Post by Joey Flash on Jan 23, 2015 21:10:47 GMT -5
Requiem for a Dream
Joseph Malignaggi was nervous, more so than he had been in a very long time as he walked through the corridor of Robert Facchetti’s mansion. The place was something he had aspirations for, aged, oaken and full of history, his kind of place. He sat down on the steps of the hall, and peered up at the long staircase gazing up at his boss’ bedroom door in anticipation. This was his first sit-down, his first real sit-down anyway and this one was high. The mooks and slingers of New York were one thing, but this…power, real power was another. It had been years since he had made his way up, ‘Too immature’, ‘He’s just a fuckin’ kid’, ‘Your mouth will get you killed’. Joey was eighteen now, people he had outlasted and outlived, who’s the kid now? Joey rubbed his hands together as he was bouncing his knees in anxiousness. A multitude of things were going through his head, was he ready for this? What was it going to be like? How should he act, should he smile, laugh? Should he bow his head? Yes sir no sir, three bags full sir. Just shut up and don’t be yourself, for the love of all that is holy don’t be yourself.
The door opened, and Joey’s boss Robert Facchetti was stood with his perfected smile. The man who was like a second father to him, the only man who would give a kid a second glance, Joey’s parents were long dead by the time the thirteen year old vagabond stole from the wrong man on the streets. Robert Facchetti collared him and with one smile absolved him of any wrongdoing…as well as making him a thrall to Robert’s whim forever more. As Joey grew, so did Robert, neighborhood boss to king of almost the entire state in only a few years. Joey admired him, even emulated him as a kid, some of it stuck. The smile most of all, it even scared Joey a little bit, so much hidden behind it.
Joey stood up and gave Robert a hug, stepping back and giving his own smile. Robert was only young for what he was; in his forty’s with neat black hair and a tall, somewhat skinny physique.
Robert: Good evening.
Joey: H-hey.
He was too nervous, he had to stop it before…
Robert: Cut the shit Joseph, you have to be aware tonight, you have to be vigilant, ok?
Joey: Yes.
Robert: You are shaking.
Joey looked down and Robert put his hand on Joey’s shoulder.
Robert: I need you tonight, be confident. If you show weakness you will be punished, surely you know this.
Joey: Yeah, don’t worry about me.
Robert sighed and motioned to go through the door.
Robert: I don’t know why he is here, but we need to cater to him as much as possible, got it? Don’t talk out of turn or say anything stupid, please.
Joey: I won’t.
Robert: This could mean very big things for me, for us but…
Joey: Don’t worry. I’ve got you.
Robert smiled at him as they approached a large set of doors to Robert’s dining room where Joey had enjoyed many a feast. It was gonna be much more important than any dinner tonight though. Robert opened the door to the large room.
Joey counted, one, two, three, four…and probably a fifth observing. A lot of muscle for a friendly talk. There he was, the boss man. He was stood at the far end of the room gazing out of the window, with a man next to him talking in their native tongue. All Joey had heard were stories, this man was ruthless, he didn’t look it but Joey had learned long ago that in this business appearance rarely reveals the nature of a man. This guy was one of THE men in the home country. Be respectful.
All the while Joey’s eyes never left one person in the room, stood next to the boss, an air of elegance, beauty and serenity pouring from her very being was a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty, her suit hugging her curves and her jet black hair styled to fall on her shoulders. She tossed a look Joey’s way and the smile she flashed him turned his stomach into mush, followed by an immediate change in expression that turned his stomach hollow with fear.
Robert approached the man with a smile and took the man’s hand.
Robert: A pleasure Don Allegri.
Stakes on a Plane
Joey’s eyelids flickered back into the focus and light of the waking world; he squinted as he was greeted by the sunlight from the window of the airplane. Joey had been having dreams like this a lot recently, dreams that seemed so real he could still smell the scent of the old oaken room still clung to his nostril hairs. Was this a dream....or a memory? He looked to the his right, the woman of his dreams was sat next to him reading. Her visage in real life was even more beautiful than his mind could conjure.
Joey: How’s ya book?
Alessandra held a finger up for him to wait, finished her page then turned to him.
Alessandra: Terrible.
Joey: You’re half way through, just come to that fuckin conclusion?
She playfully slapped his arm.
Alessandra: Mouth. Christian is right here.
Joey checked on his son, who was happy with a book in his hands, himself oblivious to the world.
Alessandra: Sometimes you become so engrossed in mediocrity and it makes you think ‘I could do better than this’.
Joey: No shi- Sorry, yeah I know the feeling. My ninety year old wrestling coach would probably watch an Ultimate Destroyer match and think the same thing.
Alessandra chuckled.
Alessandra: I love you, you know.
Joey studied her face, a face that gave less away with each passing day. Okay, let’s say I believe.
Joey: I love you too you know.
They locked eyes and smiled, the smile was broken by an anxious and frankly scared Joey.
Joey: Why now?
Alessandra: Christian is three years old; my parents deserve to see him dummy.
Joey: No shit, but isn’t it a bit strange?
Alessandra cocked her head; of course Joey couldn’t tell her ‘It’s a bit strange because I think either you or a member of your family wants me dead!’
Alessandra: Are you stupid?
Joey: I guess.
Alessandra: I’m not expecting you to like them or even to get on, well I think you’ll like my mother, you’d probably fuck her too if you were single, maybe if she were ten years younger.
Joey: I’m expecting great things; if she created you she can’t be all bad.
Alessandra: You’ll see.
He’ll see alright, he’ll probably see the end of a smoking barrel. No, no, Joey wasn’t going to let this happen. Be strong.
Joey: Alessandra…
Alessandra: Uhuh?
Joey: Do you love me?
She laughed and leant toward him with a whisper
Alessandra: I dealt with a drug addled, murderous idiot with no prospects because I didn’t love him?
Joey paused.
Joey: I’m not-
Alessandra: I know. Joseph, I know. I love you.
Joey: I love you too.
The pair looked toward their child who had since fallen asleep. Joey tried to get a reading from his fiancée, he was beginning to doubt every word she said, but all he wanted was to believe. He stood up and kissed her forehead.
Joey: I really do.
She looked at him and returned his smile.
Joey: I’m going to the bathroom…
Alessandra: By yourself.
Joey squeezed past her and made his way down the aisle.
Joey: Bitch.
No cool titles, Joey Flash takes a massive shit in a plane toilet.
The camera flicks on followed by lots of static and the image flickers into focus to find Joey Flash sat in a small room that we quickly deduce is an airplane toilet. For the next five or so minutes we are treated to the most uncomfortable but oddly riveting pieces of televised art that we could ever hope would be brought to air, a cacophony of pained moans, agonized grunts and smothered screams escape Joey’s mouth, his face a picture of agony and suffering, one would be forgiven to think Joseph was recreating a scene from The Exorcist, then in one sudden moment Joey’s face relaxes and his body sinks in a near post orgasmic slump as if all the weight is lifted from him with a relieving ‘Ahhh’ Joey smiles once more.
Joey: Just dropped an Ultimate Destroyer all up in this bitch.
He grabs some toilet paper and wipes, taking a look at the paper before depositing it into the toilet.
Joey: Nope, too much talent in that one to be a Destroyer.
Joey smiles.
Joey: Good fucking god. So this is what it gets me huh, my mouth and my skills have talked and earned me this shot. Just what I wanted, it’s been far too long in the making. I’m ready, the fans are ready. It’s making my lips quiver at the very thought of talking about this match, it’s what I’ve been working toward. I asked Santa for this for Christmas and you know what I went and delivered. Is it a PS4 or an XBOX ONE? Nope it’s a rematch with fucking Retardo the Large, thanks for the lump of coal Seth you cocksucker.
It’s Pay Per View time, by the very name it kinda gives this shit away, as a fan you pay your hard earned money to watch the event, not me though, I’d pirate the fuck out of this fuckin event, who’d pay for this? You’re straight up sabotaging your own shit, but aight cool. I can dig this. It’s how you build every major star right? Feed them ‘showcase’ fights. The public know what the matchup is, they are only here to see another vicious one sided beat down from the man who will be king. I know what this matchup is, and I accept it. Ultimate Destroyer knows what this matchup is, and he accepts it. I guess I was wrong, there’s a reason you’re the promoter you are, best for business eh? I signed my future and my money making abilities in this business into your hands, gotta trust my gut huh? We’re Don King and Tyson in the 80’s minus the rape.
The only quibble I have with this little tactic though, and don’t get me wrong…I’m sorry for calling you a cocksucker earlier, I really regret that, my deepest apologies but Seth, you fucking cocksucker why oh why does it have to be someone I have already beaten the ever loving shit out of? What ran through your addled mind to make you think this fight? ‘Let’s take the hottest property in the company and chuck him against someone with less wins than Occulo has had sexual partners?’ Do you just throw darts at a board with this? Is every segment on the board labeled ‘Ultimate Destroyer’? Fine, just fine and dandy, you set em up and I knock em down. People will pay to see this, so I understand, placing the lowest of the low against the most transcendent wrestler in your company would generate money by itself, but put us half way through the show and by god damn you got yourself a winner. I’m over it, on to the next one, but I swear to god, if I have to fight fucking Occy again next week I’m going to punch you square in the face.
Joey wipes again.
Joey: Oh shit, that reminds me, what’s crackin Destroyer?
He chuckles.
Joey: How in holy hell have you managed to get back here? Like, seriously? This is a storyline for the ages, untalented bum gets whupped by stellar athlete, embarrassed, punked and made to like he didn’t even belong in the same sport as said athlete. This lights a fire under said bum, said bum goes on a winning streak…well in your case at least it wasn’t a losing streak, so you’re improving big man. Bum finds himself finally getting a shot at redemption, takes on said stellar athlete once more in a bid to reclaim both his masculinity and his pride. How does this story go in your head Destro? Does the bum defeat the stellar athlete and ride off into the sunset finally able to taste something other than abject failure? The credits will roll and you will feel so happy, your chest swelling with joy, written by ‘Ultimate Destroyer’, directed by ‘Ultimate Destroyer’, starring ‘Ultimate Destroyer’ and ‘Italian Jobber #1’…but what’s this? Oh fuck produced by Marvel Comics…post credits scene, ah fuck, sorry man it was all a dream and you unfortunately died from the ungodly savage beating you took in the match.
Roasting session, Destroyer you fat motherfucker. You sweat just standing there. So many chins Shawn Michaels fuckin leg would get tired, waiting the return of the neck beard…better luck next year. What am I doing wasting my breath and time on you? I know, you gonna fuck me up, you gonna get revenge, you gonna reign as TV champ, but really what have you shown? Have you given me any reason since we fought to take you more seriously? I’m going to go as light as light gets and still annihilate the best you have. I’ve done nothing but take constant steps up to better competition, each man has been thrown to the dogs like a leftover dinner, you’ve taken a substantial step down since our last bout and barely recorded wins over people who wouldn’t even be fit to pluck my ballsack clean with their teeth. I’ve clowned, I’ve belittled, time to cut deep.
You’re nothing in this business; Joey Flash is the greatest wrestler in this company. You wouldn’t be the hardening crusty stain in my cum rag. This match is a microcosm of your career, Mr Reliable, Mr Tough Guy, Mr Fight Anyone. You had a chance at a #1 contender shot last Slam, and you fucking blew it, you blew it harder than Kaz does an Uzbeki phallus. You’re a fucking joke, you step out that curtain last week and every person in the back is laughing at you. Send in the clowns, nope, send in Ultimate Destroyer. The reason you got that match is the same reason you got this one, time and place. You’re card filler and nothing more, let it sink in for a moment. Where’s your progression, where’s your improvement? Oh, whoops, none of that shit to be found. You’re fodder, and I’m hungry as fuck, this is going to get ugly.
I’m not angry at you, I’ve got no issue with you, you’re here and you’re having to deal with this because the rest of the company are nothing but cowards, the predator is here, the predator is rap tap tapping on your doors and each and every one of you is cowering away in your basement ‘No you can’t come in, not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin’. Fine, I’ll destroy all your foundations, I will MAKE you listen, and I will MAKE you fight me. When we’re standing amongst the rubble and ashes of what you thought was your safety net, I fucking beg any one of you to step through the flames into my arms…but alas, cowards, thus, not a one person, not ONE of them had the balls to do it, I called out names, I issued an open challenge, I bashed people’s faces in with a steel chair and wanna guess what happened?
Ring ding ding, correct answer. Nothing. I’m no longer circling the waters, I’m here and I’m smelling naught but fear. What will it take? Will it take me to drop this title? Will it take me to drop to my knees and beg? Fuck that, and fuck you all. I am the one true champion in this federation, it’s sickening. Hey motherfuckers, I’m calling names here, Scarecrow, Dan Van cunting Slade, Maelstrom. Doesn’t it gall you I’m stood here with this title and you fuckers have absolutely nothing? Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Twat. This is your title, this is the one you should be going for, yet I see you fighting these other ridiculous matchups.
People have been calling us and Occy the new wave of talent, the next generation here in the WCF, madness, the fact that four talents like you guys come into a federation at the same time as each other, Occulo, Scarecrow, DVS and Maelstrom. That would have kept the WCF nourished for years, you’d each have picked up titles and reigned over the atrophy this place is full of for as long as you wanted…but unfortunately a fifth person came along, a person that belongs with…belongs far beyond each and every one of you.
Joey wipes, and then claps.
Yeah motherfuckers, I’m calling you ALL out. Anywhere, anytime, I’ll do you all in back to back, I’ll smash you all together in one match next PPV. You only have one cock amongst all of you. One of you had the balls to step up and one of you got annihilated and look what happened to him, he’s nothing, fighting my leftovers. How’s it going guys? People’s title, Hardcore title? It’s sickening. Not a single word crossing me has left any of your lips since I arrived, well look what’s happening here, the veterans are ducking me, and the people of my generation are ducking me. Don’t worry Bobby, we’re getting to you.
Johnny Reb and Roy Speede, Scarecrow, really what the fuck are you doing? This is a walk in the park for you isn’t it? Your nutsack has swollen a hell of a lot the past few weeks, you’ve gone from mild mannered weirdo to having the guts to square up to Odin Balfore, fucker know your place, you have the gall to ask for a spot in the main event at Payback wow oh wow. I’ll tell you what Odin, you don’t even have to touch this guy anymore, Scarecrow, you’re a badass, you’re a tough guy, you’re main event material, well guess what, I’m getting all up in your fucking face, nope, you ain’t any of that. Main event material is Joseph fucking Flash, stay in your lane, you and Occy belong together, fuck he’d probably beat the shit out of you as well.
It’s coming, ugh you cum bucket Cairo. Oh fuck, I’ve been rambling. Ultimate Destroyer, you pathetic gargantuan waste of space. Are you dead yet? No? Oh fuck.
Another plop in the toilet.
Joey: Ahhh destroy that shit! Dan Van Slade, Maelstrom, I’m being surgical and predictive here, ‘HEY JOEY’S GOING TO TALK ONE BY ONE ABOUT THE PEOPLE OF HIS GENERATION!!!’ Nah shit ain’t like that. The pair of you no marks belong together, like retarded peas in a shit stained pod. You were here just after me, you’re talented, by all rights you should have had a TV title shot by now…but what’s this…oh it’s Seth’s business acumen coming to play. The same acumen that has me facing Ultimate Destroyer, the same acumen that doesn’t want to see two of the WCF’s rising stars be decimated by the WCF’s true elite, thus you’ve plodded along and you’ve somehow managed to stay out of being in the same ring as me, cool. Orbit will suit you just fine, that cocksucker will choke and lose against anyone competent. His only credible win since I’ve been here is against that sham of a wrestler, athlete and talent that is Jonny Fly. Mediocrity, Fly and Orbit, brothers in arms, brothers in being a pair of worthless wrestling minds, bodies and techniques. You cunts were made with and for each other, destined to be a footnote to those who stare down at you like the ants you are. Fly, you’re a joke, Joey Flash arrives, Joey Flash betters your immaculate start in this federation, you sense a change in the winds and you pack your bags. Bye bye, I’m retired! Good luck in your next life as a worthless piece of shit government dog, enjoy your sleep knowing that your better in the sport that you dedicated your life to is spitting on your achievements and crushing every record you have day by day. You won’t even hear this, dog, but if I ever catch the scent of a rat near any venue I’m waiting for you motherfucker, I feel sick every time I’m compared to you. I’m never turning tail, I’m never running for the hills and I’m never letting my integrity and pride slip. You let your pride go before I even laced up my wrestling boots. If you ever have that itch to wrestle again, remember I’m here now. You are irrelevant.
Joey pauses…wipes.
Joey: What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Maelstrom, DVS, one of you will beat that faggot Orbit, when you do, I’m here, let’s go, Title vs Title. None of these other chumps seem at all interested, Jayson Price dropped his title and decided to face a fellow has been and a woman instead…go you. Beckman is fighting someone on his level…the level of terrible overrated turgid shit, Steeltoe Joe. What am I to do? C’mon ‘Rookies’ throw me a bone here? I’ll fuck up the winner of your match; I’ll fuck up both losers. I’ll do it on the same card if I have to.
The people here still don’t seem to understand what’s happening. Oh shit…wait for it…wait for it…Bob…Bobby….Bobby Cairo, hello. Coward number fifty, come on down. Mr ‘I’ve got a hard on for your title’ Mr ‘I’m going to show you that you messed with the wrong person’ Mr ‘I’m going to talk a big game and ultimately do nothing about it’. I challenged anyone in the federation to a match, I smashed you straight in the skull with a steel chair while staring defiantly into your eyes, I waited and and I waited. The words ‘I want to fight you for the Television title’ never escaped your lips, you ended up fighting one of my cast offs instead. Go you. Who would want to have their elite status shattered in their face before another big opportunity? You chased Beckman, you wanted to fight Beckman. Me? It’s a whole different ball game. I’m no comic artist, I’m no joker. I would make you look like a child at my feet crying to go home.
What do I think Robert Cairo should do about it? Is it A) Ignore my attack and my challenges or B) Decide to stop being the pussy motherfucker hiding on past glories and now using the Tag Titles as a shield for any decent competition? Nope it’s C) Be a man. I’ve challenged your pride as a man and as a wrestler, do something about it. Your mongrel Kaz won’t even dare raise his voice against me, he’d rather type ‘You a dickhead!!’ on twitter than say it to my face, not that he has the balls to do that either. So be a man, if you still have it in you Cairo. CASTRATION OUTTA NOWHERE.
Joey wipes…again.
Joey: This is one big motherfucker. Fucking yes. Ultimate Destroyer shit I forgot I’m fighting you, see this is what happens when you’re a worthless example of a competitor like you. What more needs to be said? Should I riff on your constant poor performances or your appearance? Nope. It’s been done, it’s been said. You are not on my level, you are so far below Occulo is waving a ‘Hello Welcome to ‘GETTINGCRUSHEDBYJOEYVILLE’ sign. Fuck off Destroyer, never come back. I’m going to ensure you are disposed of well and truly for good.
Bodybags on deck, this time it’s for good.
Joey wipes one more time, holds the tissue up to his nose and sniffs, recoiling at the smell. He flushes and exits the toilet. Waiting for him outside is a young child of about ten, an eager grin spreading across his face.
Kid: Oh my god it’s Joey Flash!
Joey: Heya kid, how’s it going?
Kid: Oh my gooood! Can I have your autograph?
Joey scans his pockets with his left hand to find no pen, the shit stained tissue still in his right hand.
Joey: No, but I can give you some official Ultimate Destroyer merchandise.
Kid: WOW! Please!!
Joey smiles and thrusts the shit stained tissue into the kids face, sticking it onto his forehead. The child screams and begins crying as he runs off.
Joey: I’ll pitch that merch idea to the office.
End.
Joseph Malignaggi was nervous, more so than he had been in a very long time as he walked through the corridor of Robert Facchetti’s mansion. The place was something he had aspirations for, aged, oaken and full of history, his kind of place. He sat down on the steps of the hall, and peered up at the long staircase gazing up at his boss’ bedroom door in anticipation. This was his first sit-down, his first real sit-down anyway and this one was high. The mooks and slingers of New York were one thing, but this…power, real power was another. It had been years since he had made his way up, ‘Too immature’, ‘He’s just a fuckin’ kid’, ‘Your mouth will get you killed’. Joey was eighteen now, people he had outlasted and outlived, who’s the kid now? Joey rubbed his hands together as he was bouncing his knees in anxiousness. A multitude of things were going through his head, was he ready for this? What was it going to be like? How should he act, should he smile, laugh? Should he bow his head? Yes sir no sir, three bags full sir. Just shut up and don’t be yourself, for the love of all that is holy don’t be yourself.
The door opened, and Joey’s boss Robert Facchetti was stood with his perfected smile. The man who was like a second father to him, the only man who would give a kid a second glance, Joey’s parents were long dead by the time the thirteen year old vagabond stole from the wrong man on the streets. Robert Facchetti collared him and with one smile absolved him of any wrongdoing…as well as making him a thrall to Robert’s whim forever more. As Joey grew, so did Robert, neighborhood boss to king of almost the entire state in only a few years. Joey admired him, even emulated him as a kid, some of it stuck. The smile most of all, it even scared Joey a little bit, so much hidden behind it.
Joey stood up and gave Robert a hug, stepping back and giving his own smile. Robert was only young for what he was; in his forty’s with neat black hair and a tall, somewhat skinny physique.
Robert: Good evening.
Joey: H-hey.
He was too nervous, he had to stop it before…
Robert: Cut the shit Joseph, you have to be aware tonight, you have to be vigilant, ok?
Joey: Yes.
Robert: You are shaking.
Joey looked down and Robert put his hand on Joey’s shoulder.
Robert: I need you tonight, be confident. If you show weakness you will be punished, surely you know this.
Joey: Yeah, don’t worry about me.
Robert sighed and motioned to go through the door.
Robert: I don’t know why he is here, but we need to cater to him as much as possible, got it? Don’t talk out of turn or say anything stupid, please.
Joey: I won’t.
Robert: This could mean very big things for me, for us but…
Joey: Don’t worry. I’ve got you.
Robert smiled at him as they approached a large set of doors to Robert’s dining room where Joey had enjoyed many a feast. It was gonna be much more important than any dinner tonight though. Robert opened the door to the large room.
Joey counted, one, two, three, four…and probably a fifth observing. A lot of muscle for a friendly talk. There he was, the boss man. He was stood at the far end of the room gazing out of the window, with a man next to him talking in their native tongue. All Joey had heard were stories, this man was ruthless, he didn’t look it but Joey had learned long ago that in this business appearance rarely reveals the nature of a man. This guy was one of THE men in the home country. Be respectful.
All the while Joey’s eyes never left one person in the room, stood next to the boss, an air of elegance, beauty and serenity pouring from her very being was a girl who couldn’t be more than twenty, her suit hugging her curves and her jet black hair styled to fall on her shoulders. She tossed a look Joey’s way and the smile she flashed him turned his stomach into mush, followed by an immediate change in expression that turned his stomach hollow with fear.
Robert approached the man with a smile and took the man’s hand.
Robert: A pleasure Don Allegri.
Stakes on a Plane
Joey’s eyelids flickered back into the focus and light of the waking world; he squinted as he was greeted by the sunlight from the window of the airplane. Joey had been having dreams like this a lot recently, dreams that seemed so real he could still smell the scent of the old oaken room still clung to his nostril hairs. Was this a dream....or a memory? He looked to the his right, the woman of his dreams was sat next to him reading. Her visage in real life was even more beautiful than his mind could conjure.
Joey: How’s ya book?
Alessandra held a finger up for him to wait, finished her page then turned to him.
Alessandra: Terrible.
Joey: You’re half way through, just come to that fuckin conclusion?
She playfully slapped his arm.
Alessandra: Mouth. Christian is right here.
Joey checked on his son, who was happy with a book in his hands, himself oblivious to the world.
Alessandra: Sometimes you become so engrossed in mediocrity and it makes you think ‘I could do better than this’.
Joey: No shi- Sorry, yeah I know the feeling. My ninety year old wrestling coach would probably watch an Ultimate Destroyer match and think the same thing.
Alessandra chuckled.
Alessandra: I love you, you know.
Joey studied her face, a face that gave less away with each passing day. Okay, let’s say I believe.
Joey: I love you too you know.
They locked eyes and smiled, the smile was broken by an anxious and frankly scared Joey.
Joey: Why now?
Alessandra: Christian is three years old; my parents deserve to see him dummy.
Joey: No shit, but isn’t it a bit strange?
Alessandra cocked her head; of course Joey couldn’t tell her ‘It’s a bit strange because I think either you or a member of your family wants me dead!’
Alessandra: Are you stupid?
Joey: I guess.
Alessandra: I’m not expecting you to like them or even to get on, well I think you’ll like my mother, you’d probably fuck her too if you were single, maybe if she were ten years younger.
Joey: I’m expecting great things; if she created you she can’t be all bad.
Alessandra: You’ll see.
He’ll see alright, he’ll probably see the end of a smoking barrel. No, no, Joey wasn’t going to let this happen. Be strong.
Joey: Alessandra…
Alessandra: Uhuh?
Joey: Do you love me?
She laughed and leant toward him with a whisper
Alessandra: I dealt with a drug addled, murderous idiot with no prospects because I didn’t love him?
Joey paused.
Joey: I’m not-
Alessandra: I know. Joseph, I know. I love you.
Joey: I love you too.
The pair looked toward their child who had since fallen asleep. Joey tried to get a reading from his fiancée, he was beginning to doubt every word she said, but all he wanted was to believe. He stood up and kissed her forehead.
Joey: I really do.
She looked at him and returned his smile.
Joey: I’m going to the bathroom…
Alessandra: By yourself.
Joey squeezed past her and made his way down the aisle.
Joey: Bitch.
No cool titles, Joey Flash takes a massive shit in a plane toilet.
The camera flicks on followed by lots of static and the image flickers into focus to find Joey Flash sat in a small room that we quickly deduce is an airplane toilet. For the next five or so minutes we are treated to the most uncomfortable but oddly riveting pieces of televised art that we could ever hope would be brought to air, a cacophony of pained moans, agonized grunts and smothered screams escape Joey’s mouth, his face a picture of agony and suffering, one would be forgiven to think Joseph was recreating a scene from The Exorcist, then in one sudden moment Joey’s face relaxes and his body sinks in a near post orgasmic slump as if all the weight is lifted from him with a relieving ‘Ahhh’ Joey smiles once more.
Joey: Just dropped an Ultimate Destroyer all up in this bitch.
He grabs some toilet paper and wipes, taking a look at the paper before depositing it into the toilet.
Joey: Nope, too much talent in that one to be a Destroyer.
Joey smiles.
Joey: Good fucking god. So this is what it gets me huh, my mouth and my skills have talked and earned me this shot. Just what I wanted, it’s been far too long in the making. I’m ready, the fans are ready. It’s making my lips quiver at the very thought of talking about this match, it’s what I’ve been working toward. I asked Santa for this for Christmas and you know what I went and delivered. Is it a PS4 or an XBOX ONE? Nope it’s a rematch with fucking Retardo the Large, thanks for the lump of coal Seth you cocksucker.
It’s Pay Per View time, by the very name it kinda gives this shit away, as a fan you pay your hard earned money to watch the event, not me though, I’d pirate the fuck out of this fuckin event, who’d pay for this? You’re straight up sabotaging your own shit, but aight cool. I can dig this. It’s how you build every major star right? Feed them ‘showcase’ fights. The public know what the matchup is, they are only here to see another vicious one sided beat down from the man who will be king. I know what this matchup is, and I accept it. Ultimate Destroyer knows what this matchup is, and he accepts it. I guess I was wrong, there’s a reason you’re the promoter you are, best for business eh? I signed my future and my money making abilities in this business into your hands, gotta trust my gut huh? We’re Don King and Tyson in the 80’s minus the rape.
The only quibble I have with this little tactic though, and don’t get me wrong…I’m sorry for calling you a cocksucker earlier, I really regret that, my deepest apologies but Seth, you fucking cocksucker why oh why does it have to be someone I have already beaten the ever loving shit out of? What ran through your addled mind to make you think this fight? ‘Let’s take the hottest property in the company and chuck him against someone with less wins than Occulo has had sexual partners?’ Do you just throw darts at a board with this? Is every segment on the board labeled ‘Ultimate Destroyer’? Fine, just fine and dandy, you set em up and I knock em down. People will pay to see this, so I understand, placing the lowest of the low against the most transcendent wrestler in your company would generate money by itself, but put us half way through the show and by god damn you got yourself a winner. I’m over it, on to the next one, but I swear to god, if I have to fight fucking Occy again next week I’m going to punch you square in the face.
Joey wipes again.
Joey: Oh shit, that reminds me, what’s crackin Destroyer?
He chuckles.
Joey: How in holy hell have you managed to get back here? Like, seriously? This is a storyline for the ages, untalented bum gets whupped by stellar athlete, embarrassed, punked and made to like he didn’t even belong in the same sport as said athlete. This lights a fire under said bum, said bum goes on a winning streak…well in your case at least it wasn’t a losing streak, so you’re improving big man. Bum finds himself finally getting a shot at redemption, takes on said stellar athlete once more in a bid to reclaim both his masculinity and his pride. How does this story go in your head Destro? Does the bum defeat the stellar athlete and ride off into the sunset finally able to taste something other than abject failure? The credits will roll and you will feel so happy, your chest swelling with joy, written by ‘Ultimate Destroyer’, directed by ‘Ultimate Destroyer’, starring ‘Ultimate Destroyer’ and ‘Italian Jobber #1’…but what’s this? Oh fuck produced by Marvel Comics…post credits scene, ah fuck, sorry man it was all a dream and you unfortunately died from the ungodly savage beating you took in the match.
Roasting session, Destroyer you fat motherfucker. You sweat just standing there. So many chins Shawn Michaels fuckin leg would get tired, waiting the return of the neck beard…better luck next year. What am I doing wasting my breath and time on you? I know, you gonna fuck me up, you gonna get revenge, you gonna reign as TV champ, but really what have you shown? Have you given me any reason since we fought to take you more seriously? I’m going to go as light as light gets and still annihilate the best you have. I’ve done nothing but take constant steps up to better competition, each man has been thrown to the dogs like a leftover dinner, you’ve taken a substantial step down since our last bout and barely recorded wins over people who wouldn’t even be fit to pluck my ballsack clean with their teeth. I’ve clowned, I’ve belittled, time to cut deep.
You’re nothing in this business; Joey Flash is the greatest wrestler in this company. You wouldn’t be the hardening crusty stain in my cum rag. This match is a microcosm of your career, Mr Reliable, Mr Tough Guy, Mr Fight Anyone. You had a chance at a #1 contender shot last Slam, and you fucking blew it, you blew it harder than Kaz does an Uzbeki phallus. You’re a fucking joke, you step out that curtain last week and every person in the back is laughing at you. Send in the clowns, nope, send in Ultimate Destroyer. The reason you got that match is the same reason you got this one, time and place. You’re card filler and nothing more, let it sink in for a moment. Where’s your progression, where’s your improvement? Oh, whoops, none of that shit to be found. You’re fodder, and I’m hungry as fuck, this is going to get ugly.
I’m not angry at you, I’ve got no issue with you, you’re here and you’re having to deal with this because the rest of the company are nothing but cowards, the predator is here, the predator is rap tap tapping on your doors and each and every one of you is cowering away in your basement ‘No you can’t come in, not by the hairs on my chinny chin chin’. Fine, I’ll destroy all your foundations, I will MAKE you listen, and I will MAKE you fight me. When we’re standing amongst the rubble and ashes of what you thought was your safety net, I fucking beg any one of you to step through the flames into my arms…but alas, cowards, thus, not a one person, not ONE of them had the balls to do it, I called out names, I issued an open challenge, I bashed people’s faces in with a steel chair and wanna guess what happened?
Ring ding ding, correct answer. Nothing. I’m no longer circling the waters, I’m here and I’m smelling naught but fear. What will it take? Will it take me to drop this title? Will it take me to drop to my knees and beg? Fuck that, and fuck you all. I am the one true champion in this federation, it’s sickening. Hey motherfuckers, I’m calling names here, Scarecrow, Dan Van cunting Slade, Maelstrom. Doesn’t it gall you I’m stood here with this title and you fuckers have absolutely nothing? Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Twat. This is your title, this is the one you should be going for, yet I see you fighting these other ridiculous matchups.
People have been calling us and Occy the new wave of talent, the next generation here in the WCF, madness, the fact that four talents like you guys come into a federation at the same time as each other, Occulo, Scarecrow, DVS and Maelstrom. That would have kept the WCF nourished for years, you’d each have picked up titles and reigned over the atrophy this place is full of for as long as you wanted…but unfortunately a fifth person came along, a person that belongs with…belongs far beyond each and every one of you.
Joey wipes, and then claps.
Yeah motherfuckers, I’m calling you ALL out. Anywhere, anytime, I’ll do you all in back to back, I’ll smash you all together in one match next PPV. You only have one cock amongst all of you. One of you had the balls to step up and one of you got annihilated and look what happened to him, he’s nothing, fighting my leftovers. How’s it going guys? People’s title, Hardcore title? It’s sickening. Not a single word crossing me has left any of your lips since I arrived, well look what’s happening here, the veterans are ducking me, and the people of my generation are ducking me. Don’t worry Bobby, we’re getting to you.
Johnny Reb and Roy Speede, Scarecrow, really what the fuck are you doing? This is a walk in the park for you isn’t it? Your nutsack has swollen a hell of a lot the past few weeks, you’ve gone from mild mannered weirdo to having the guts to square up to Odin Balfore, fucker know your place, you have the gall to ask for a spot in the main event at Payback wow oh wow. I’ll tell you what Odin, you don’t even have to touch this guy anymore, Scarecrow, you’re a badass, you’re a tough guy, you’re main event material, well guess what, I’m getting all up in your fucking face, nope, you ain’t any of that. Main event material is Joseph fucking Flash, stay in your lane, you and Occy belong together, fuck he’d probably beat the shit out of you as well.
It’s coming, ugh you cum bucket Cairo. Oh fuck, I’ve been rambling. Ultimate Destroyer, you pathetic gargantuan waste of space. Are you dead yet? No? Oh fuck.
Another plop in the toilet.
Joey: Ahhh destroy that shit! Dan Van Slade, Maelstrom, I’m being surgical and predictive here, ‘HEY JOEY’S GOING TO TALK ONE BY ONE ABOUT THE PEOPLE OF HIS GENERATION!!!’ Nah shit ain’t like that. The pair of you no marks belong together, like retarded peas in a shit stained pod. You were here just after me, you’re talented, by all rights you should have had a TV title shot by now…but what’s this…oh it’s Seth’s business acumen coming to play. The same acumen that has me facing Ultimate Destroyer, the same acumen that doesn’t want to see two of the WCF’s rising stars be decimated by the WCF’s true elite, thus you’ve plodded along and you’ve somehow managed to stay out of being in the same ring as me, cool. Orbit will suit you just fine, that cocksucker will choke and lose against anyone competent. His only credible win since I’ve been here is against that sham of a wrestler, athlete and talent that is Jonny Fly. Mediocrity, Fly and Orbit, brothers in arms, brothers in being a pair of worthless wrestling minds, bodies and techniques. You cunts were made with and for each other, destined to be a footnote to those who stare down at you like the ants you are. Fly, you’re a joke, Joey Flash arrives, Joey Flash betters your immaculate start in this federation, you sense a change in the winds and you pack your bags. Bye bye, I’m retired! Good luck in your next life as a worthless piece of shit government dog, enjoy your sleep knowing that your better in the sport that you dedicated your life to is spitting on your achievements and crushing every record you have day by day. You won’t even hear this, dog, but if I ever catch the scent of a rat near any venue I’m waiting for you motherfucker, I feel sick every time I’m compared to you. I’m never turning tail, I’m never running for the hills and I’m never letting my integrity and pride slip. You let your pride go before I even laced up my wrestling boots. If you ever have that itch to wrestle again, remember I’m here now. You are irrelevant.
Joey pauses…wipes.
Joey: What was I talking about? Oh yeah, Maelstrom, DVS, one of you will beat that faggot Orbit, when you do, I’m here, let’s go, Title vs Title. None of these other chumps seem at all interested, Jayson Price dropped his title and decided to face a fellow has been and a woman instead…go you. Beckman is fighting someone on his level…the level of terrible overrated turgid shit, Steeltoe Joe. What am I to do? C’mon ‘Rookies’ throw me a bone here? I’ll fuck up the winner of your match; I’ll fuck up both losers. I’ll do it on the same card if I have to.
The people here still don’t seem to understand what’s happening. Oh shit…wait for it…wait for it…Bob…Bobby….Bobby Cairo, hello. Coward number fifty, come on down. Mr ‘I’ve got a hard on for your title’ Mr ‘I’m going to show you that you messed with the wrong person’ Mr ‘I’m going to talk a big game and ultimately do nothing about it’. I challenged anyone in the federation to a match, I smashed you straight in the skull with a steel chair while staring defiantly into your eyes, I waited and and I waited. The words ‘I want to fight you for the Television title’ never escaped your lips, you ended up fighting one of my cast offs instead. Go you. Who would want to have their elite status shattered in their face before another big opportunity? You chased Beckman, you wanted to fight Beckman. Me? It’s a whole different ball game. I’m no comic artist, I’m no joker. I would make you look like a child at my feet crying to go home.
What do I think Robert Cairo should do about it? Is it A) Ignore my attack and my challenges or B) Decide to stop being the pussy motherfucker hiding on past glories and now using the Tag Titles as a shield for any decent competition? Nope it’s C) Be a man. I’ve challenged your pride as a man and as a wrestler, do something about it. Your mongrel Kaz won’t even dare raise his voice against me, he’d rather type ‘You a dickhead!!’ on twitter than say it to my face, not that he has the balls to do that either. So be a man, if you still have it in you Cairo. CASTRATION OUTTA NOWHERE.
Joey wipes…again.
Joey: This is one big motherfucker. Fucking yes. Ultimate Destroyer shit I forgot I’m fighting you, see this is what happens when you’re a worthless example of a competitor like you. What more needs to be said? Should I riff on your constant poor performances or your appearance? Nope. It’s been done, it’s been said. You are not on my level, you are so far below Occulo is waving a ‘Hello Welcome to ‘GETTINGCRUSHEDBYJOEYVILLE’ sign. Fuck off Destroyer, never come back. I’m going to ensure you are disposed of well and truly for good.
Bodybags on deck, this time it’s for good.
Joey wipes one more time, holds the tissue up to his nose and sniffs, recoiling at the smell. He flushes and exits the toilet. Waiting for him outside is a young child of about ten, an eager grin spreading across his face.
Kid: Oh my god it’s Joey Flash!
Joey: Heya kid, how’s it going?
Kid: Oh my gooood! Can I have your autograph?
Joey scans his pockets with his left hand to find no pen, the shit stained tissue still in his right hand.
Joey: No, but I can give you some official Ultimate Destroyer merchandise.
Kid: WOW! Please!!
Joey smiles and thrusts the shit stained tissue into the kids face, sticking it onto his forehead. The child screams and begins crying as he runs off.
Joey: I’ll pitch that merch idea to the office.
End.
