Post by Joey Flash on Feb 19, 2015 18:02:45 GMT -5
Dinner with Hank
17/2/15
Joey Flash was lost in the beat of the music as he ambled through the halls his hotel toward the cafeteria. The WCF had pretty much commandeered the run of the entire place as is the custom as they go from town to town. He mused whether the hotel would allow them back after tonight, he somehow thought not. He was dressed in the same clothes as Sunday night, barefoot but with a pair of large headphones connected to his phone. As he passed a mirror, he held and took a step back to look at himself. He leaned in to look at his face closer; he still had a large welt under his left eye and sported a cut just below it. He winced as he lifted his T-Shirt up, revealing heavy bruising on his abdomen. Pouting at himself he dropped the T-Shirt back down and continued on his way. Arriving at the canteen, it was pretty busy, full of WCF staff and talent. He lowered the headphones to around his neck whilst walking to join the food queue. “Lamb Rogan Josh”, he spat with disdain. He collected a plate and dealt himself baked beans and fries.
Spying an empty table, Joey readjusted the headphones and made his way over. He sat down and began filling his swollen bloody mouth full of unhealthy body toxic inducing fries. Crude, but nice all the same Joey thought to himself. A large crash filled the cafeteria; Joey turned his music off and looked round. Hank Brown was wallowing on the floor, Lamb Rogan Josh spilled all down his suit. Struggling to his feet, his cameraman had to hold in the sniggers. Brown got up and tweaked his suit, and began to walk off as nothing had happened. Only to be up ended by a stray lamb piece on the floor. Eventually he found his balance, his face beet red and he approached Joey’s table, seating himself opposite.
Joey: That’s why I avoid the lamb, Hank.
Hank swelled even more with embarrassment. Joey pushed his plate towards him.
Joey: Chip?
Hank obliged and began to chow down.
Joey: How’s life?
Hank (mouth full): Not bad.
Joey: Don’t talk while you’re eating, bad habit.
Hank (looking at Flash’s injuries): Yourself?
Joey: Just dandy thanks.
Hank: Sure, your face tells a different story though.
Joey: I have fragile skin and high cheekbones; getting punched in the face is the one time in this world where it’s not a blessing.
Hank: What else isn’t a blessing is having to defend your title against nine of the WCF’s finest in a battle royal at Timebomb. You really sealed your fate here Joey, I tried to counsel you otherwise but you just wouldn’t be stopped. Ahhh.
Joey: Hank, would you just be quiet. Do I look angry to you? Do I look mad? Slighted? Perturbed? Fuck do I need a thesaurus for this shit? Nah, I ain’t any of that. There’s another word that’s been missing in my entire career here in the WCF I’m thinking of, care to guess what it is?
Hank: Class? Talent? Skill? Intelligence? Do I need a thesaurus for this shit?
Flash is still for a second, staring at his meal before raising his head his face puzzled.
Joey: What is this word…something that I haven’t used for so long? All coming back to me now…what?
Hank: Please? Thank you?
Flash pauses again and smiles
Joey: Challenge.
Joey stands up and looks around the room, everyone is staring at him. He begins to walk around the room and addresses the people.
Joey: My career has been thus far has been like watching an episode of a show on repeat twelve times in a row.
- Joey Flash matched up with worthless opponent.
- Joey Flash insults worthless opponent.
- Worthless opponent retorts limply, or not at all.
- Joey Flash steps in ring with worthless opponent.
- Joey Flash thrashes and humiliates worthless opponent, retains title.
Challenge. This federation has been void of such, so much so that I thought the word had almost disappeared from my vocabulary. After weeks of battling with disinterest and going to war with boredom and apathy here in the WCF it appears I have been offered an olive branch. Wouldn’t you agree?
A man nods his appreciation.
Joey: Right! This is a challenge that I can rally and get behind, I said from the start not a single competitor here could even breathe the air at my pinnacle and I’ve proven nothing but since, Beckman and Cairo would be choking for breath halfway to the level of talent where I reside, reign and control. I’ve been alone and starving for so long, my body rebels at stagnation, give me an athlete, a technician, an insane maniac, a brawler it doesn’t matter I chew them all up without so much a second thought, I leave with my stomach growling and my body twitching and aching for a fight. Pathetic. So finally, they get it, it can’t be done alone, you cannot stop a colossus with one man.
Seth had completely the wrong idea when he made this matchup. Nine people and Joey Flash, that gives him nine chances to finally rid my waist of championship gold. He thought that by simply upping the amount of opponents that this outcome will be different, all it means is you are finally giving my talent some sustenance. I want the tender meat but ain’t none of that in the cooler here at WCF, so Seth has got me feasting at an all you can eat buffet instead.
The wait for me to actually be able to wrestle may be over. Listen up WCF fans and heed my words well, what you will get at Timebomb is something the likes of you have never seen before, the likes of which no one else in the world of professional wrestling can provide. You will be shown the closest thing to perfection in the squared circle. Actually, words cannot do justice to what I will show you, it will be one of those once in a lifetime things fans, like Halley’s Comet, or Adam Young wrestling a good match. You will have the honour and the privilege to see Joey Flash wrestle. By wrestle I mean not what 99% of the roster classes as wrestling, but what the premier athlete, talent and prodigy this sport has ever had to offer means by ‘wrestling’.
Joey approaches another man, who is studying a paper.
Joey: Intrigued?
The man looks up at Joey
Man: ‘Loser’, four letters, ends in Y?
Joey: What the hell? All of my opponents in this battle royal of course!
Man: Ah, Joey.
Joey stares at the man for a few seconds before walking off.
Joey: What comes of my victory here? Lemme tell you, I’m not going to hide my plans or what I’m gonna do with this shit, Seth Lerch has gone from sabotaging his business by pissing me off to sabotaging his business by giving me a sliver of a chance at bringing this tournament to ruin. Here’s what’s going to happen Seth so listen fuckin good.
#1 I win this matchup, easily, title still gonna be round this svelte waist.
#2 I interfere in every fucking match in the Trilogy cup, ruining as many matches as possible, costing fuckers their chance and spitting in your face for your disrespect.
#3 I’m going to make you regret making the stipulation ‘If a wrestler gets injured the winner of the Battle Royal’ (fuck it, write ‘Joey Flash’ in permanent marker). Why after trying your hardest to do me like a sucka are you making it this easy for me? You must either think I’m a) gonna lose this match or b) somehow, someway Joey Flash will be virtuous and altruistic, so fair and kind I make Jesus look like a fascist that I won’t beat the ever loving shit out of a competitor in the tournament to take his place? Wow. Simply by allowing me this chance you are almost guaranteeing one of the wrestlers in your little tournament is going on injured leave while I win the World Title, right? Fuck, you could have just given me the shot and been done with it, no hardships or repercussions except having the greatest wrestler in the world as your figurehead, but now you’re doing things the hard way for your damn self. You think this is going to stop me getting what I want? You’re chucking these roadblocks in front of me like it’s supposed to make a difference, that I have to do things the ‘hard way’? Know this, where I’m concerned there is no such thing as the ‘hard way’…except when I’m balls deep, but we off that, every time I compete in that ring it’s the easy way. This is going to be a fuckin blowout.
The room’s silence ends almost immediately as the people eating were simply waiting for a pause in the ramblings of the barefooted weirdo before continuing ignoring him. Joey gives a cough and approaches Hank.
Joey: Continue. I'm sure you have some great insight about my match Hank.
The room’s volume swells with chatter and cutlery meeting plates as Joey sits back down.
Hank: To be honest Joey I really can’t see you coming out on top of this match with the victory…
Joey sighs
Joey: Hank…
Hank: ‘Fuck off?’
Joey: Good boy. Good bye.
Hank slumps in his seat and finishes a chip before slumping out the room. Finally, Joey got to eat…cold beans. Lovely.
Will Colling
19/2/15
Will Colling passed the crinkled Jackson over to the cashier; it was finally a day off from work tomorrow, for him that meant one thing, time to get fucked up. He collected his change and the brown paper bag that housed his dance partner for the night. The ding of the door serenaded his exit from the shop as he found himself in the chilly February evening. It had been a rollercoaster of a week for him, he had enjoyed a bankroller of a win at his bookies, and he would have kissed his horse if he had the chance. He crossed the street and climbed into his car, it was a long day and he couldn’t wait to get home.
Sometimes in life people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time, it wasn’t a testament to how someone lived their life, or the type of person they were, it wasn’t like a higher power pointed a judging finger at you and judged all the deeds good and bad you have done in your life however long or short it may have been. It was more like a blind god throwing darts at a board with your future pinned to it. This was true of Will Colling this evening.
He stepped out from his car and dragged his liquor bag from inside; with a sharp exhalation from the cold he closed the door and locked his car. It was just his luck that all the parking spots near his flat were taken, he had to circle the block before spotting a car just leaving, maybe that was his luck on the way up. He crossed the street and checked his phone, the time read 00:31, shit he didn’t think it would be that late. The streets were completely empty, Will liked it that way, and he had grown tired of the hustle and bustle. Maybe it was time to sell up and move to the country he thought. His boy would like that. The streetlights dimmed as he rounded the next corner, only the sound of his footsteps rang across the pavement. His steps were joined in a duet by someone approaching; he looked up to see a woman heading toward him.
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking ‘Wow’. The woman had a large fur coat flowing down to her knees, red heels that seemed to move in slow motion as she walked toward him. He looked up from admiring her legs and smiled at her.
Will: Nice evening for it, where ya going dressed to kill like that?
The woman met his eyes and a smile crossed her olive face.
Woman: Home.
This was a curious thing for Will, if he had simply kept walking and not met her gaze he would be sat at home, keeping warm and enjoying his whiskey in about five minutes.
Alessandra Allegri gazed at the man curiously, she wondered where he was going himself, she wondered if he was sharing his drink tonight or whether he was drinking alone. Did this man have a job, a career, a family? She saw a wedding ring on his finger, that was enough. Alessandra had convinced herself, so much so that she genuinely believed it was the case that she had been forced into her father’s criminal enterprises, that she had taken the reigns and become the assumed heir because she didn’t want Paolo to get caught up any of the ‘bad stuff’. Truth be told she couldn’t care less about the business, honour and respect, she did it for one reason, gratification of an urge. If Alessandra Allegri was simply the capo baston, the underboss of the Allegri crime syndicate she would have smiled and walked home leaving Will with a hazy memory of a beautiful woman that smiled as she passed, unfortunately for Will Colling he was face to face with a natural born predator and a bonafide psychopath who needed her fix.
Alessandra pulled the silenced pistol from the inside of her mink coat, if this were business she would aim for the head and be done with it, but tonight this was nothing but pleasure. As Will backed up with apprehension Alessandra jammed the pistol into his stomach and fired a single shot, the bottle fell to the ground with a clink and rolled from its paper bag. Will staggered away toward a parked car to try and hold himself up, the man stared up at her in terror almost unable to speak, Alessandra always enjoyed this look. ‘Your life is mine and I am removing your existence from this world’. Giving him a little smile she pointed the gun at his forehead and fired twice, his head jolting back with impact and the door of the car absorbing the bullets and the blood spray. One more shot to the head, and it was done. The last shell casing dropped to the floor rang most hollow of all as Will Colling’s lifeless eyes stared longingly at the bottle of Whiskey, he chose the wrong dance partner tonight.
Alessandra replaced the pistol and stepped over his lifeless body, plucking the bottle from the ground. Delicious, she would enjoy a fine, fine drink tonight.
Like grass in a winters breeze
19/2/15
It was starting to get cold now. Joey pulled his knees up to his chest for a moment before laying them back down and placed his hands behind his head again. He had been laid here for what seemed like hours, but who knows, who cares. He took in a deep breath of the fresh air, hearing the wind rustle the trees in the garden around him, taking a handful of grass from the lawn; he let it cascade through his fingers, leaving a single blade of grass which he then placed it between his lips. This was nice. He smiled to himself. This is what life should be, simple and free.
It had been nigh on a week since his gambit with the drugs, since then he had barely seen Vincenzo to discern any crack in his mask of ambivalence, if he was planning something, he was doing it well out of Joey’s reach. This pleased Joey, he didn’t want an enemy of his to be so impossibly stupid as the last three assassins that had been sent his way. If Joey was going to be getting whacked he wanted it at least to be in an impressive way that would be talked about for years, not that it was something Joey wanted to be particularly known for ‘Hey Joseph Malignaggi, the man who died an impressive death’. He had every intention of being ‘Joey Flash, the wrestler who lived an impressive life’.
Another Pay Per View was approaching and yet again Joey’s mind set was as far away from the ring and competing than it ever had been before. This was not good; this was not good at all. Sure Joey was undefeated; a start that no wrestler in WCF’s long history had matched over such an extended period of time, but this streak was starting to weigh heavier and heavier on his head. When he first started here people didn’t have a clue, didn’t know what he was about, that progressed to intrigue, to excitement and now it was entering the worst stage for Joey’s mind set, expectation.
His dominance had become so routine over any and all competitors, he found himself struggling and slogging much harder as every week on, it was becoming a weight on his enormous talent, a weight that would have sunken a lesser man, a lesser talent. Motivation, drive and inspiration were nothing for Joey Flash at the moment, it didn’t matter where his mind was, he was being hunted inside the ring and out but still he sat atop the mountain.
His driving force wasn’t anything like ‘self-preservation’ or ‘furthering his career’; his driving force was sheer arrogance and self-confidence. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter how little he thought of his opponents, how little they troubled his sleep, how they moved in the ring, their skills, their moves, their motivations, none of it matter. Joey was steadfast in his one truth that was driving him.
‘I am the best’
He knew no one in the world could touch him in a straight fight mano a mano, but nine men? This was a completely whole ballgame. This wasn’t so much a wrestling match but a game of fucking chance. Well Joey was certain of this much, if this is a game of chance Joey was sure as shit going rig all the games and the truth would be apparent to everyone in the match, ‘The House always wins in the end’.
Alessandra: Aren’t you cold sweetie?
Joey bolted upright to find his fiancée stood next to him, he had gotten too comfortable, if this had been Vincenzo...he felt a flush run up his cheeks to combat the freezing weather. It wasn’t Vincenzo, if it was Joey could have died without even having seen his killer coming. This was the wakeup call he needed, stop slacking, you don’t have time for daydreams, and you don’t have time for sleep. You have time to live.
Joey: I’m positively sweltering, how was your day fair lady?
She looked beautiful, she laid the lavish fur down on the grass next to him and followed it down, kicking both heels off she plopped her feet into the cooling grass.
Joey: Oh, sweltering too are you?
She laughed as she laid down next to him.
Alessandra: Positively.
They shared a kiss, and then Alessandra sat up with a start.
Alessandra: I almost forgot! I got you this.
She reached over behind her coat and produced a bottle of Jack Daniels finest Whiskey.
Joey: Your kindness exceeds your beauty, or some shit.
He peeled the top and unscrewed it, it’s a good job it was dark of Joey would have seen the extra-curricular blood specks on the packaging. Joey took a swig and handed it to Alessandra; she necked the equivalent of six shots and gave a sharp exhalation of excitement.
Alessandra: Not bad. What did you get up to? Did Christian get to sleep okay?
Joey: Huh? Yeah he’s okay, I got through two and a third readings of the Hungry Caterpillar, I love that shit more that he did...
Alessandra laughed and took another swig.
Alessandra: Wow. You finally found a book that intrigued you, huh?
Joey shrugged.
Joey: It was my favourite book as a kid is all.
Alessandra smiled, and kissed him on the cheek.
Alessandra: Take you back to simpler times, did it?
Joey: Pretty much.
Joey pulled her close, she flinched when feeling how cold his arms were but grew accustomed quickly. Joey rested his head against hers.
Alessandra: It’s not all doom and gloom Joseph. We’re a family now. And in a few months, when I’m Mrs Malignaggi it’s going to make this shit official. Does it scare you?
Joey took a deep breath.
Joey: Family huh?
He closed his eyes and a smile broke across his face.
Joey: I guess so. Yeah I guess I'm scared.
Alessandra: It’s a big deal, not just for you and me, but my family as well.
The family that wants me dead, got it.
Alessandra: The ceremony is going to be the most beautiful thing ever. Just...
Her words cut out for a moment.
Alessandra: Just promise me one thing.
Joey: What? I’ll get a haircut, don’t worry.
Alessandra: Not that.
She put her arm around him, and kissed his cheek again.
Alessandra: I want you to be okay. No weird behaviour, no erraticness, no... no drugs. I want this day to be perfect and the rest of our lives too. I know you have your problems, but I want us to be happy. Forever. So make sure you’re alright, okay?
Joey took her hand and kissed her forehead.
Joey: I promise. You know...I uhh don’t say this shit enough or show it, but it’s...nice, having you in my life.
Alessandra smiled.
Alessandra: I know. Deep down, I know, but it’s always wonderful to hear it. I love you.
Joey looked up at the stars...
Joey: I promise.
Joey’s words were as hollow as his promises, he cursed to himself, this was the last lie he ever wanted to tell her.
The Flash of Wall Street
18/2/15
The room was cold and corporate, as were the faces around the long table that stretched all of ten meters in front of where Joey Flash stood. He fiddled with his tie as he lowered his briefcase to the desk with a hollow thwack. The nine men around the table seemed bored and sick of him already, he had to change that right quick.
Joey: Hello there gentlemen, my name is Joey Flash and I’m here on behalf of WCF enterprises. I understand your time is precious so rather than just stand in front of you and give a sales pitch; I’ll let the product speak for itself.
He skirts over to the wall and lowers the lights while firing a projector up as it loads a crystal clear video on the screen. It fades into highlights, wrestling highlights, more specifically Joey Flash highlights.
Joey: Here is the product that, all being well will pay long term dividends for you over the long haul.
Man #1: That’s not a product, that’s you.
Joey: Ahhh uhh-
Man #2: What in the hell is this man doing in here?
Joey: No it’s not what you think, I’m ah-
Man #1: This is not our 12:45 meeting, I was sceptical when ‘Sarah Dixon from Microsoft’ showed up with a beard and a shoddy suit!
Man #2: Security!!!
Joey: No please!
Before Joey could even realise what was going on, he had already suplexed the first business man through the table. It was happening again, why did every good intentioned meeting Joey had end up with him beating the shit out of poor innocent people? He pondered on this as he launched a fleeing businessman into a poorly placed cactus in the corner of the room. The poor men who simply wanted to attend a meeting were now in the process of a savage beating from a highly trained athlete, Joey felt both pity and sadness for the man who was begging him not to punch him while he still had his glasses on, Joey agreed that it was wrong as his fist smashed the four eyed bastard right in the chin and sent him splayed limply to the floor. The last of the men was struggling to his feet, Joey watched. The endless struggle of the weak, he shook his head as he was reminded of his competition in the battle royal, this is the sight Joseph would have to become accustomed to it seemed. Helping the last man to his feet he envisioned taking the final of his opponents and launching them helplessly from the ring. He smiled as the glass shattered around him and the final businessman’s screams as he fell from the second floor of the high rise office building made Joey smile with happy familiarity.
Joey: As I was saying…
With the room in absolute carnage, bodies, broken furniture and a mound of smashed glass strewn across the room Joey stood back at the projector.
Joey: This is your product. Here we will critically analyse as to why Joey Flash is worth YOUR investment in both the upcoming Battle Royal, compare him to his competition and critically evaluate each product on the market at the moment.
BIOHAZARD
Strengths: Has Joey Flash’s endorsement, general stupidity leads to surprise attacks, great at making friends, catches opponents off guard by seemingly being an escaped mental patient that made his way into a ring, excellent at giving struggling wrestlers an easy win, and current tag team champion.
Weaknesses: Prone to nuclear meltdown, puts too much trust in a space werewolf from mars, little to no wrestling ability.
Joey: Legendary wrestler, I see no reason why this man is not one of the biggest challenges for this belt, I would place him and his tag team partner as joint second favourites for the belt. It would be an honour to lose to you.
TYLER WALKER
Strengths: Has Joey Flash’s endorsement, great at making friends, unlike other human competitors has an advantage of being a giant monster mutant from another planet, would be an excellent personal trainer if he had social skills, changes name more times than Prince, strong, and current tag team champion.
Weaknesses: Being a space werewolf gives him a lack of understanding of rules, too hairy, doesn’t know his own strength, puts too much trust in a fellow mutant.
Joey: I feel sad that it has to come to this; I hold more respect for this man than I do any other in the federation, save NERDSMASHER George. Has all the tools to become a great wrestler here. DWT for life mothafuckas.
KENNETH RAIDON
Strengths: Good climber (could pursue at professional level), from New York, has Eye of the Tiger as theme song, tall.
Weaknesses: Who is Kenneth Raidon?, Bland, unmarketable, chose to be a wrestler, worthless in ring and promo skills, barely talented, couldn’t lace the boots of T-PAIN, needs work.
Joey: This has to be the single most boring, no mark of a wrestler I’ve ever seen in my career. Let’s not forget that Adam Young is in this match, Kenny do you know how bad that really is? I’m calling you more boring and dull than Adam fucking Young. That’s like telling someone they are a bigger exterminator of Jews than Hitler or they are a better wrestler than Joey Flash, it just doesn’t happen. So for me to bestow such an honour on your wack ass how does that make you feel? I hope it makes you want to wrap a noose round ya neck and drop from a fuckin bridge ya waste of space. You’re the most boring person in this entire federation, if you were any more laid back you be horizontal, whether Kenny is sad, entertained, mad, happy, enraged he reacts exactly the fuckin same. What do you hope to accomplish in your career here? Fuckin wallflower, I couldn’t tell you from a member of security backstage, I couldn’t tell you from a journalist, a fan, a fuckin piece of furniture.
You’re a weak punk pussy, I feel sad I have to reside from the same city as you, when I walk down the street people stop and stare, when you walk down the street people bump into you like ‘I didn’t see you there!’. Straight gimp, your fuckin bio says you’re ‘Charismatic’, yeah sure and Jay Omega’s hung like a horse. You want down from ya fuckin mountain, how about I give you a good shove back to where you belong, anonymity. Just try me, if you wanna take issue with how I’m talkin, how I’m treating you, how I’m going to be beating you, come see me in the streets; shit will be like South Park, Kenny gonna die with his face in the hood.
You’re lucky this is the type of match it is, if I had my chance to fully concentrate on your destruction it would be picture perfect in its beauty, for now I’m gonna have to just brush you off like the fly you are, cos I’ve got bigger fish to fry, in case you’re wondering…haddock.
So Kenneth, ‘ride on’ into oblivion you worthless bastard.
REGINALD DAMPSHAW III
Strengths: Intelligent, well spoken, wise, charismatic, opulent, classy, well dressed, skilled.
Weaknesses: British.
Joey: So we go from one ‘Duke’ in Kenny to another one in Reggie, what the fuck is this? This is a wrestling company not an old boys social club you fuckin morons. You are one pompous, stuck up, ignorant fuckhead of a man Reggie. What brought you to America in the first place? Was it the classy women? Was it the good beer? Was it the healthy food? Was it the public schools? Was it the excellent gun control? Fuck me, you have a life as good as it gets in your own little bubble, so what are you doing here? Oh I get it, you want to prove yourself in the greatest wrestling federation in the world right? Just a little question I have for you, peep this…
You never even seem fucking interested in wrestling, so why are you here? You actively turn down matches, duck out challenges and generally bitch out of any fight that actually might further your career. You seem more at home preaching to the fans than actually lacing up ya boots ya fuckin princess. Are you going to even step through the ropes for this match or will you simply stand at the top of the ramp lording it up before I run down and kick ya teeth down your throat. Or ya gonna get Critchton Merriweather to do your fighting for you? He seems to do every fucking thing else. Does he give you a helping hand when ya watching porn too? You lie to the women telling them you’re the ‘tag team champions’, they’re impressed til they get back to your room and understand what ya meant by that, faggot.
Weak ass bitch, Isle of Wight, I’m surprised you ain’t from the Isle of Man ya fuckin frootloop. Sure thing you’re a lord and a rich man in a place where the population is you, Critchton and ten sheep. Local news headline ‘Man slips in the rain!’ Here in the WCF is where I’m the reigning lord; I’m lord, prince and king rolled into one beautiful package, maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you sit in my court as my fuckin footstool when I’m done with you ya whelp.
You’re a weak hit, I’m a potent strain, I’m the OG Hindu Kush, you’re a dime bag of reggie, Reggie. Yet another part timer who can’t make hack it here, you talk a good game same as anyone, shit I had a bit of hope for you when you first started but look what you’ve done since, sweet fuck all. You are one of those dime a dozen people who come through the federation claiming greatness when showing nothing more than apathy and poor aptitude for the sport. It doesn’t matter that you’re going to lose to me, you don’t even seem to be phased, wins and losses are nothing to you. Your sole interest here is to lord it over people you deem as lesser, well who is the lesser in reality? You’re the man who has given up everything in his homeland for a slice of that American pie, but you’re not liking the taste, it’s a little bitter for your delicate Dampshaw mouth ain’t it?
You’re worse than most people in this match because you seem to have at least one brain cell in ya noggin, so to see the lack of drive is sickening. This match will either be the making of you or the breaking of you, I’m almost certain it’s the latter. Sad I had to meet you in such a match first so I couldn’t give you the special lesson only a proper beat down can give, but shit, I’ll try my best. Toodle pip Reggie.
ADAM YOUNG
Strengths: None.
Weaknesses: Healthy respiratory system keeping him alive.
Joey: Why are you still alive? Why do you feel it necessary to draw breath on this earth? Mr Old School, the only thing old about you is apparently your Alzheimer’s riddled brain from too many beatings in the ring. I don’t say this lightly, I insinuated poor Kenny was the blandest wrestler but notice I didn’t ever use the word ‘worst’. Well sir, that word is reserved for a special brand of shithead, the type of shithead who has ‘Cartels’ of spastics following their every whim and constantly tries to pretend they are something they ain’t, in this case a professional wrestler. I hate to break it to you man, but you wanna know why Seth keeps you around here? I think you’ll notice a pattern here, you either seem to be fighting people on your level like Ultimate Destroyer to keep your confidence up or you’re taking on the best of the best in ridiculous matchups. You had a #1 contendership match against Steeltoe Joe, wanna know why? Because Seth wanted Joe to have chance at crushing ICE, knowing full well you didn’t have a chance in hell. You were there out of circumstance, you’re the tune up fight before a big event, it gives you a false sense of self-affirmation that oh gee you might actually be getting somewhere here! Seth takes pity on you, but you’re getting no such pity from me you ball gobbling shit, I want never to be in your presence again you worthless daft deluded cunt.
Has it not dawned on you yet your position in this company? Do you not seem to realise that you are and have been since long before I arrived the walking joke of this company? You’re so worthless, you’re such a nobody that people don’t even talk about you behind your back they say it right to your fucking face, just how I’m telling you now, you are legitimately the worst wrestler in this company.
Clearly, no debating. You’re a laughing stock, the fact I have to put up with listening to your promos week after week and seeing you take up spots in matches that could be used to showcase a better talent, like I dunno, Taz Taylor, makes me feel the bile rise in my throat. Step out of the ring and stick to your twitter game, it’s the only way people care even slightly what you do, even then, guess what it’s like the interest you have in watching a lame cat hobbling across a motorway wondering when a car is going to send it on its way for good. Well I plan on being that Mack truck that sends Mr Fluffykins straight to fuckin hell.
You are a walking, talking car crash. You fuckin hick. At least Doc Henry carries himself with some class; you’re just a racist piece of shit who gets by on controversy. Well that doesn’t sell tickets or merch, what sells is talent. You’re a liability, your views are a liability, your fucking Cartel of tinfoil wearing, Kool Aid drinking faggots are a liability, I would say your wrestling skills are a liability but I would be giving them too much praise.
Do us all a favour, kill ya fuckin self.
SIN ROSTRO JR
Strengths: Lawn mowing, cleaning, dish washing, construction, bastardising classic US cars, large brimmed hats for sunshine based bathing.
Weaknesses: Tequila, ugly women, bad botch filled matches, flatulent inducing foods, and constant disappointment to his father.
Joey: Jesus, is this guy still here? Wait, did ya catch that HAY-SUS ya fuckin spic bastard. Ah fuck well my anti-racist rant toward Adam is a goner fuck sake, think before you speak Joey, oh well ya wetback fuckhead what the fuck are you still doing here? You’re as rare as the mythical ‘good Adam Young match’, I feel like I need to get a picture with you just to verify you even exist in this world. You pop up once a month with renewed determination to prove yourself amongst the WCF’s talent pool, perform below adequately and then slink back into whatever hovel you crawled out from.
How you even have this shot is baffling to me, see I do actually have respect for my opponents if they get their shit earned with hard work. If they work their way up, fighting through the competition and finally get rewarded with a shot at greatness. When they stroll in and are just handed a shot at fighting me is when I feel the need to really put my foot down. You have done absolutely nothing to earn your place in the match, fuck even Mr Old School himself at least has enough fight to keep on going when things don’t look good, you? You just up and disappear the second you lose and then resurface when you think everyone’s forgotten what a bitch you are. When I beat you, you’re going to feel hard done by, sad and confused. If you want to prove that you have the talents you talk about and the longevity in this business, I expect to see you as my opponent again in a couple of months, fuck man at least I expect to see you fighting at least once more in the WCF ya fuckin flake, and if I don’t? Well, then it will just prove that I’m right about you all along. You’re not deserving, or good enough for this spot.
If Sin Rostro Sr could see you now, looking at you disgracing his mask and his lineage at every turn I can’t imagine what he’d think.
“Honor our family” Were the last words your dear old daddy ever spoke in his worthless life. Well look how you’ve done there Junior? He dishonoured his family at your birth by letting you fuckin live. Is it any surprise you turned out to be the disgrace you are now?
You duck every challenge, every match and can’t even have the cojones to stick around in the face of defeat…well I guess ya daddy was defeated by mortality so it’s only fair wrestling immortality takes ya fuckin head off. I wish I could punch your dead daddy dead in his face and tell him what a piece of shit his wife plopped out her cunt. What? You got a problem with what I’m saying? Oh Joey you going overboard, nah, this mothafucka’s pops already did that on his way to our fucking country.
You’re as much of a joke as your fathers misplaced faith in you was. You will be humiliated infront of the million PPV buyers south of the border, I hope each and every of them watches as I give you the beating I guess ya daddy never did. But not is all lost, you’re never going to make it as a wrestler, I guess you understand that yourself, but guess what a lucrative position working alongside me in my business has opened up. So bring ya fuckin hedge clippers and report in sharp Monday morning ya fuckin sap.
ULTIMATE DESTROYER
Strengths: Fought Joey Flash twice (that’s gotta count for something), large, similar nuclear abilities lead him to be a foe for Biohazard, will endanger self without any real concern for his wellbeing to incapacitate an opponent.
Weaknesses: Is a literal human sized piece of whale shit, the flushing mechanism of toilets, can’t wrestle, will endanger self without any real concern for his wellbeing to incapacitate an opponent.
Joey: Good fucking god. Retardo the Large is back for yet a third crack at the champ. Welcome back buddy, I’ve fucking missed you. Want a hot chocolate and a foot rub? You nuclear fuckwit, you’re like a 400lb boomerang, I throw you away with disdain and back you come once again for yet another savage beating. You’re like a fuckin popup, the second you’re closed, another one opens and back you come with a vengeance, well with a pitiful attempt at vengeance.
How sad is this getting for you now? Pavlov would have a field day with your retarded mentality, ‘If I approach this elite, handsome wrestler I get the shit beaten out of me’, this has happened too many times for it not to create a learned behaviour of simply ‘avoid elite, handsome wrestler’ but it seems the exact fuckin opposite has happened with you, and well, here you are again.
I’ve faced you so many times it feels like I’m replaying the same boring nightmare over and over again, destined to beat up your weak ass and punk you for ever and eternity. I would have hoped that perhaps the nemesis of Joey Flash would be someone worth fighting but it seems for reasons out of my control you have assumed the mantle. I don’t know what it feels like to you that this keeps happening? I can’t possibly put myself into your position Destroyer, to find yourself constantly flung like the shit you are at an impenetrable wall in hope that somehow it sticks.
Lemme save you, Seth and any other person stupid enough to clamour for this match again the time. I’m going to end the chapter in my book named ‘Joey Flash vs The Ultimate Shitstain’ once and for all, you could put this match in any situation, in any scenario in any place in the world and it would have the same outcome. This is not one of those times where Destroyer has even a punchers chance, he couldn’t even get that. He’s not a 99/1 to shot, we could fight a hundred times and the outcome would be the same every single time. The only variable being how I deem the fight should end. That is all.
Destroyer, accept your position at the bottom of the food chain and stare up in awe at the alpha male of this company, get your fucking shinebox and clean my shoes you walking talking piece of faecal matter.
DOC HENRY
Strengths: Cooks good BBQ.
Weaknesses: Small manhood, southern, racial prejudice allows him suspicion of many people, lack of civilization, comes from overweight jobless caste, lived in impoverish trailer park conditions, poor wrestler, liar (owns no PhD, cannot call self Doc).
Joey: Doc fuckin Brown, enjoyed laying a beating on this chump last week, I’d say it was my crowning achievement, but he’s shit, so it’s just another notch on my bedpost. You pathetic bastard, yet another man talked a big game, thought himself the big I am and tried to treat me as a lucky newcomer. You’ve been in this federation for years and years, you’ve seen the greats come and go, probably lost to most of them on the way, but you thought ‘I can get this kid, his scalp will be mine. He’s not what he’s hyped up to be.’ Then I took out the trash and thrashed you with the ease of dashing a newborn’s brains.
What do you think now? Do you think I’m any less dangerous than the Hall of Famers and legends you’ve fought? I bet in the back of your mind you still have a niggling feeling, that feeling that says ‘Ahh I coulda beat him ya know, I coulda been a contender!’ You were complaining about what happened with the refs in the match, hey guess what, fucking man up ya pussy. Shit happens, I won the match and you lost, but I see where you’re coming from, if I lost in a similar manner to you I guess I’d probably have a problem with it myself.
This time we meet in the ring I will leave your veteran ass with absolutely no doubt the better of us two. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can sure make em fuckin realise who the dominant member of the pack is, and I’m gonna do exactly that at Timebomb. You are utterly, completely, truly, madly, deeply not even close to my level. Would you approach Jonny Fly, Steve Orbit, fuck even Beckman with the same level of disdain and disrespect you are showing me? Nah I don’t suppose you would, I suppose you would look at the floor while walking past em because you feel the pressure of your betters.
I’m not going to make you look away when we pass in the corridor; I’m going to make you so shit scared of being in my presence you’re going to get your reps in two clear hours before I even think about hitting the gym.
I’m not even gonna touch on your lifestyle, where you come from or who you are outside the ring, we’ve done that. I’m gonna touch on the man you are inside the ring, you are an over the hill, shot, lame horse that’s about to be put out to pasture, but before it gets there I’m taking you straight to the glue factory Boxer. Your experience and your know how didn’t help you for shit the first time we met, and guess what motherfucker, a week isn’t going to make enough of a difference to make it even come close to breaching our gap. If anything the exact opposite has happened, the gap is growing rapidly as I ascend to godhood and you descend into the mediocrity that you are. With every veteran here hanging on by a string I’m going to sever your past glories with one swift, sharp swing of my sword.
You’re going to be my warning to any of the old faggots in the back who want to try making a jump back into the big time off my back, it’s not going to happen, but the hospital is giving beds out for all you fucks. Enjoy your last dance in the limelight Doc, it’s going to be swift and it’s going to be fucking brutal.
APOCALYPSE
Strengths: Big.
Weaknesses: Is every pathetic fucking cliché that a ‘monster’ wrestler is, makes Oblivion look positively sane.
Joey: Last and most definitely least it’s the herald of the four horsemen Mr Apocalypse! Welcome to your five seconds of fame ya massive twat. First thing’s first fuckhead, it’s something I’ve been wondering for a while, why do all of you psychotic, mentally retarded, roided up massive cunts have names about death, destruction and the end of the world? Apocalypse, Oblivion, Ultimate Destroyer I mean what are you people doing here? Is this a window into your creativity or simply your deluded madness? How about for once we get one of these fuckin nutjobs who kills, rapes and tortures with the name ‘Mr Huggybunny’, y’know throw us off the scent a little bit. When I’m having a business meeting with ‘Apocalypse’ I can’t help but fear for the worst, you people are the worst set of ‘evil monsters’ I’ve ever fuckin seen. If Michael Myers was called ‘THE SLITTER OF THROATS AND KILLER OF MEN’ I don’t think he would have seemed anyway near as particularly menacing, come on boys you’re missing the boat here.
Do you really think you’re scaring people with this shit? On that kindergarten tip, none of that shit will fly here, Bermuda Triangle. You’re a straight up buffoon, you talk like a child, you look like a child, you have hissy fits like a child and you want me to take you seriously? Oblivion at least presents himself correct; you present yourself like a comic book parody of what he is.
No wonder he doesn’t recognise your ass anymore ‘best friend’, it’s not that he doesn’t, it’s that he doesn’t want to be associated with someone as pitiful as you. Who fucking would? You’re a joke. You’re the antithesis of anything that is quality within this federation; you are the sewer waste of my palace here. You’re from my ‘Darkest Fears’, clearly, my darkest fears are having such a pathetic uncoordinated, uncouth, idiotic lug of a person ambling about in the federation doing a grand total of zilch.
What meds were they feeding you? Apparently now you’re high on delusion, stupidity and lack of talent, I didn’t know Adam Young pills were in circulation for the mentally retarded but I guess these fancy psych hospitals have all sorts of interesting shit huh? Wanna know what I’m going to diagnose you with after you have the misfortune of making my acquaintance on Sunday? DND (Disassociated Nose Disorder) after I smash ya fuckin shnozz straight off your face ya Uncle Fester looking motherfucker, Quasimodo with down syndrome lookin bastard.
You came back and hoped to make a big run at a title, well whoops, look who’s in ya fucking way for your second match it’s Joey Flash! I’m gonna put you into a Joey Flash induced coma so we don’t have to put up with your rambling the same spiel week after week, shit maybe I’ll even make Bonnie my bottom bitch, it’d be a considerable step up from your ranting, dribbling self.
I duffed out your best friend with ease and he was a former World Champ here, so what do you think I’m going to do to you hmm? No Joey! I will beat you!!! Yep, how about instead quit the fucking wrestling, take Oblivion, take Ultimate Destroyer and go play a game of ‘PSYCHOPATHIC ROIDED UP CUNTS – The Gathering’ so you tedious copy and paste fucks can be gone from tainting my interest, the federation and everyone else with your incessant bullshit. Fuck off back to the asylum you came from or I’ll have you going to a fuckin morgue instead, you clown.
Joey takes a deep breath in, the room is still as carnage ridden as before Joey started his presentation, a couple of the men are stirring to which a swift boot to the face quickly ends.
Joey: Now the part you were all waiting for, I’m sorry it took so long and you had to sit through such dross…you’ve been a great crowd. Now this is the commodity I hope you will consider investing in, gentleman, introducing…
JOEY FLASH
Strengths: Sincere, Honest, Understanding, Loyal, Truthful, Trustworthy, Intelligent, Open-Minded, Thoughtful, Considerate, Good-Natured, Reliable, Warm, Kind, Friendly, Unselfish, Honourable, Responsible, Cheerful, Trustful, Gentle, Well-Spoken, Educated, Tactful, Polite, Forgiving, Well-Read, Respectful, Good-Tempered, Patient, Sportsmanlike, Well-Mannered, Cooperative, Ethical, Self-Controlled.
Weaknesses: Too modest.
Evaluation: This man here is the complete article folks, if you are investing make sure to do so now, the stock is fixing to climb every single week from here on out so you are truly getting an amazing basement price, for the price of a million each you can sponsor the man known as Joey Flash for the next four, yes I repeat four shows. A great deal that involves product promotion, advertising and much much more!
Joey: So here it, the be all and end all, there in all fairness didn’t even need to be the past twenty minutes of a rambling presentation, the only thing that was needed was the fact that Joey Flash was competing in this match. In this match let’s be Frank, no one can see me like the rabbit in Donnie Darko.
I’ve waxed lyrical about every single facet of this match, but in the end it boils down to ‘Joey Flash is booked in match, Joey Flash wins match’ this isn’t a gimmick, this isn’t a mantra, this is a fucking lifestyle. Lifestyles of the rich and famous, lifestyle of the best wrestler in the world.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Preparing nine of the finest fucking bodybags in WCF for you to enjoy. Ya fuckin done.
Bodybags on deck, cocksuckers. Light work.
It’s at this stage it dawns on Joey that rather than making a sales pitch he has instead committed a grand total of around twenty or so criminal offenses in the past twenty minutes. He sighs to himself and removes the wallets of each of the businessmen from their pockets. This will have to do rather than the investment, gah. Oh well, better than nothing...twenty one criminal offenses.
This is your life
19/2/15
Vincenzo sat up in his car as he saw the familiar black BMW pull out from the Allegri mansion; he waited a few moments for it to get a length or two down the road before hitting the gas himself. He chuckled to himself; this was too good to be true. Joseph was a very erratic driver this evening it seemed, if a police car caught him here it wouldn’t be good. He suspected Joey had been drinking again, he seemed to be heading in the same direction as he did last week. At least now Vincenzo could be sure.
After around ten minutes the car stopped abruptly outside a suburban house, Joey Flash clambered from his car and staggered out. Vincenzo watched as Joey knocked on the door, the same short, dishevelled looking man as last time Vincenzo tailed him answered. Joseph’s drug supplier, how very very quaint. You really are small time Flash. He smiled, not tonight Joseph, I’ll let you have your fix, your reputation, your name and your connection to Miss Allegri will be going up in flames soon enough. Vincenzo was stunned at how easy to predict Joseph had been, he was truly a fool. Like a moth to a flame, like a fly into the spiders web. All would be prepared for within the next couple of weeks.
Joey Flash, this is your life.
END.
17/2/15
Joey Flash was lost in the beat of the music as he ambled through the halls his hotel toward the cafeteria. The WCF had pretty much commandeered the run of the entire place as is the custom as they go from town to town. He mused whether the hotel would allow them back after tonight, he somehow thought not. He was dressed in the same clothes as Sunday night, barefoot but with a pair of large headphones connected to his phone. As he passed a mirror, he held and took a step back to look at himself. He leaned in to look at his face closer; he still had a large welt under his left eye and sported a cut just below it. He winced as he lifted his T-Shirt up, revealing heavy bruising on his abdomen. Pouting at himself he dropped the T-Shirt back down and continued on his way. Arriving at the canteen, it was pretty busy, full of WCF staff and talent. He lowered the headphones to around his neck whilst walking to join the food queue. “Lamb Rogan Josh”, he spat with disdain. He collected a plate and dealt himself baked beans and fries.
Spying an empty table, Joey readjusted the headphones and made his way over. He sat down and began filling his swollen bloody mouth full of unhealthy body toxic inducing fries. Crude, but nice all the same Joey thought to himself. A large crash filled the cafeteria; Joey turned his music off and looked round. Hank Brown was wallowing on the floor, Lamb Rogan Josh spilled all down his suit. Struggling to his feet, his cameraman had to hold in the sniggers. Brown got up and tweaked his suit, and began to walk off as nothing had happened. Only to be up ended by a stray lamb piece on the floor. Eventually he found his balance, his face beet red and he approached Joey’s table, seating himself opposite.
Joey: That’s why I avoid the lamb, Hank.
Hank swelled even more with embarrassment. Joey pushed his plate towards him.
Joey: Chip?
Hank obliged and began to chow down.
Joey: How’s life?
Hank (mouth full): Not bad.
Joey: Don’t talk while you’re eating, bad habit.
Hank (looking at Flash’s injuries): Yourself?
Joey: Just dandy thanks.
Hank: Sure, your face tells a different story though.
Joey: I have fragile skin and high cheekbones; getting punched in the face is the one time in this world where it’s not a blessing.
Hank: What else isn’t a blessing is having to defend your title against nine of the WCF’s finest in a battle royal at Timebomb. You really sealed your fate here Joey, I tried to counsel you otherwise but you just wouldn’t be stopped. Ahhh.
Joey: Hank, would you just be quiet. Do I look angry to you? Do I look mad? Slighted? Perturbed? Fuck do I need a thesaurus for this shit? Nah, I ain’t any of that. There’s another word that’s been missing in my entire career here in the WCF I’m thinking of, care to guess what it is?
Hank: Class? Talent? Skill? Intelligence? Do I need a thesaurus for this shit?
Flash is still for a second, staring at his meal before raising his head his face puzzled.
Joey: What is this word…something that I haven’t used for so long? All coming back to me now…what?
Hank: Please? Thank you?
Flash pauses again and smiles
Joey: Challenge.
Joey stands up and looks around the room, everyone is staring at him. He begins to walk around the room and addresses the people.
Joey: My career has been thus far has been like watching an episode of a show on repeat twelve times in a row.
- Joey Flash matched up with worthless opponent.
- Joey Flash insults worthless opponent.
- Worthless opponent retorts limply, or not at all.
- Joey Flash steps in ring with worthless opponent.
- Joey Flash thrashes and humiliates worthless opponent, retains title.
Challenge. This federation has been void of such, so much so that I thought the word had almost disappeared from my vocabulary. After weeks of battling with disinterest and going to war with boredom and apathy here in the WCF it appears I have been offered an olive branch. Wouldn’t you agree?
A man nods his appreciation.
Joey: Right! This is a challenge that I can rally and get behind, I said from the start not a single competitor here could even breathe the air at my pinnacle and I’ve proven nothing but since, Beckman and Cairo would be choking for breath halfway to the level of talent where I reside, reign and control. I’ve been alone and starving for so long, my body rebels at stagnation, give me an athlete, a technician, an insane maniac, a brawler it doesn’t matter I chew them all up without so much a second thought, I leave with my stomach growling and my body twitching and aching for a fight. Pathetic. So finally, they get it, it can’t be done alone, you cannot stop a colossus with one man.
Seth had completely the wrong idea when he made this matchup. Nine people and Joey Flash, that gives him nine chances to finally rid my waist of championship gold. He thought that by simply upping the amount of opponents that this outcome will be different, all it means is you are finally giving my talent some sustenance. I want the tender meat but ain’t none of that in the cooler here at WCF, so Seth has got me feasting at an all you can eat buffet instead.
The wait for me to actually be able to wrestle may be over. Listen up WCF fans and heed my words well, what you will get at Timebomb is something the likes of you have never seen before, the likes of which no one else in the world of professional wrestling can provide. You will be shown the closest thing to perfection in the squared circle. Actually, words cannot do justice to what I will show you, it will be one of those once in a lifetime things fans, like Halley’s Comet, or Adam Young wrestling a good match. You will have the honour and the privilege to see Joey Flash wrestle. By wrestle I mean not what 99% of the roster classes as wrestling, but what the premier athlete, talent and prodigy this sport has ever had to offer means by ‘wrestling’.
Joey approaches another man, who is studying a paper.
Joey: Intrigued?
The man looks up at Joey
Man: ‘Loser’, four letters, ends in Y?
Joey: What the hell? All of my opponents in this battle royal of course!
Man: Ah, Joey.
Joey stares at the man for a few seconds before walking off.
Joey: What comes of my victory here? Lemme tell you, I’m not going to hide my plans or what I’m gonna do with this shit, Seth Lerch has gone from sabotaging his business by pissing me off to sabotaging his business by giving me a sliver of a chance at bringing this tournament to ruin. Here’s what’s going to happen Seth so listen fuckin good.
#1 I win this matchup, easily, title still gonna be round this svelte waist.
#2 I interfere in every fucking match in the Trilogy cup, ruining as many matches as possible, costing fuckers their chance and spitting in your face for your disrespect.
#3 I’m going to make you regret making the stipulation ‘If a wrestler gets injured the winner of the Battle Royal’ (fuck it, write ‘Joey Flash’ in permanent marker). Why after trying your hardest to do me like a sucka are you making it this easy for me? You must either think I’m a) gonna lose this match or b) somehow, someway Joey Flash will be virtuous and altruistic, so fair and kind I make Jesus look like a fascist that I won’t beat the ever loving shit out of a competitor in the tournament to take his place? Wow. Simply by allowing me this chance you are almost guaranteeing one of the wrestlers in your little tournament is going on injured leave while I win the World Title, right? Fuck, you could have just given me the shot and been done with it, no hardships or repercussions except having the greatest wrestler in the world as your figurehead, but now you’re doing things the hard way for your damn self. You think this is going to stop me getting what I want? You’re chucking these roadblocks in front of me like it’s supposed to make a difference, that I have to do things the ‘hard way’? Know this, where I’m concerned there is no such thing as the ‘hard way’…except when I’m balls deep, but we off that, every time I compete in that ring it’s the easy way. This is going to be a fuckin blowout.
The room’s silence ends almost immediately as the people eating were simply waiting for a pause in the ramblings of the barefooted weirdo before continuing ignoring him. Joey gives a cough and approaches Hank.
Joey: Continue. I'm sure you have some great insight about my match Hank.
The room’s volume swells with chatter and cutlery meeting plates as Joey sits back down.
Hank: To be honest Joey I really can’t see you coming out on top of this match with the victory…
Joey sighs
Joey: Hank…
Hank: ‘Fuck off?’
Joey: Good boy. Good bye.
Hank slumps in his seat and finishes a chip before slumping out the room. Finally, Joey got to eat…cold beans. Lovely.
Will Colling
19/2/15
Will Colling passed the crinkled Jackson over to the cashier; it was finally a day off from work tomorrow, for him that meant one thing, time to get fucked up. He collected his change and the brown paper bag that housed his dance partner for the night. The ding of the door serenaded his exit from the shop as he found himself in the chilly February evening. It had been a rollercoaster of a week for him, he had enjoyed a bankroller of a win at his bookies, and he would have kissed his horse if he had the chance. He crossed the street and climbed into his car, it was a long day and he couldn’t wait to get home.
Sometimes in life people are just in the wrong place at the wrong time, it wasn’t a testament to how someone lived their life, or the type of person they were, it wasn’t like a higher power pointed a judging finger at you and judged all the deeds good and bad you have done in your life however long or short it may have been. It was more like a blind god throwing darts at a board with your future pinned to it. This was true of Will Colling this evening.
He stepped out from his car and dragged his liquor bag from inside; with a sharp exhalation from the cold he closed the door and locked his car. It was just his luck that all the parking spots near his flat were taken, he had to circle the block before spotting a car just leaving, maybe that was his luck on the way up. He crossed the street and checked his phone, the time read 00:31, shit he didn’t think it would be that late. The streets were completely empty, Will liked it that way, and he had grown tired of the hustle and bustle. Maybe it was time to sell up and move to the country he thought. His boy would like that. The streetlights dimmed as he rounded the next corner, only the sound of his footsteps rang across the pavement. His steps were joined in a duet by someone approaching; he looked up to see a woman heading toward him.
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking ‘Wow’. The woman had a large fur coat flowing down to her knees, red heels that seemed to move in slow motion as she walked toward him. He looked up from admiring her legs and smiled at her.
Will: Nice evening for it, where ya going dressed to kill like that?
The woman met his eyes and a smile crossed her olive face.
Woman: Home.
This was a curious thing for Will, if he had simply kept walking and not met her gaze he would be sat at home, keeping warm and enjoying his whiskey in about five minutes.
Alessandra Allegri gazed at the man curiously, she wondered where he was going himself, she wondered if he was sharing his drink tonight or whether he was drinking alone. Did this man have a job, a career, a family? She saw a wedding ring on his finger, that was enough. Alessandra had convinced herself, so much so that she genuinely believed it was the case that she had been forced into her father’s criminal enterprises, that she had taken the reigns and become the assumed heir because she didn’t want Paolo to get caught up any of the ‘bad stuff’. Truth be told she couldn’t care less about the business, honour and respect, she did it for one reason, gratification of an urge. If Alessandra Allegri was simply the capo baston, the underboss of the Allegri crime syndicate she would have smiled and walked home leaving Will with a hazy memory of a beautiful woman that smiled as she passed, unfortunately for Will Colling he was face to face with a natural born predator and a bonafide psychopath who needed her fix.
Alessandra pulled the silenced pistol from the inside of her mink coat, if this were business she would aim for the head and be done with it, but tonight this was nothing but pleasure. As Will backed up with apprehension Alessandra jammed the pistol into his stomach and fired a single shot, the bottle fell to the ground with a clink and rolled from its paper bag. Will staggered away toward a parked car to try and hold himself up, the man stared up at her in terror almost unable to speak, Alessandra always enjoyed this look. ‘Your life is mine and I am removing your existence from this world’. Giving him a little smile she pointed the gun at his forehead and fired twice, his head jolting back with impact and the door of the car absorbing the bullets and the blood spray. One more shot to the head, and it was done. The last shell casing dropped to the floor rang most hollow of all as Will Colling’s lifeless eyes stared longingly at the bottle of Whiskey, he chose the wrong dance partner tonight.
Alessandra replaced the pistol and stepped over his lifeless body, plucking the bottle from the ground. Delicious, she would enjoy a fine, fine drink tonight.
Like grass in a winters breeze
19/2/15
It was starting to get cold now. Joey pulled his knees up to his chest for a moment before laying them back down and placed his hands behind his head again. He had been laid here for what seemed like hours, but who knows, who cares. He took in a deep breath of the fresh air, hearing the wind rustle the trees in the garden around him, taking a handful of grass from the lawn; he let it cascade through his fingers, leaving a single blade of grass which he then placed it between his lips. This was nice. He smiled to himself. This is what life should be, simple and free.
It had been nigh on a week since his gambit with the drugs, since then he had barely seen Vincenzo to discern any crack in his mask of ambivalence, if he was planning something, he was doing it well out of Joey’s reach. This pleased Joey, he didn’t want an enemy of his to be so impossibly stupid as the last three assassins that had been sent his way. If Joey was going to be getting whacked he wanted it at least to be in an impressive way that would be talked about for years, not that it was something Joey wanted to be particularly known for ‘Hey Joseph Malignaggi, the man who died an impressive death’. He had every intention of being ‘Joey Flash, the wrestler who lived an impressive life’.
Another Pay Per View was approaching and yet again Joey’s mind set was as far away from the ring and competing than it ever had been before. This was not good; this was not good at all. Sure Joey was undefeated; a start that no wrestler in WCF’s long history had matched over such an extended period of time, but this streak was starting to weigh heavier and heavier on his head. When he first started here people didn’t have a clue, didn’t know what he was about, that progressed to intrigue, to excitement and now it was entering the worst stage for Joey’s mind set, expectation.
His dominance had become so routine over any and all competitors, he found himself struggling and slogging much harder as every week on, it was becoming a weight on his enormous talent, a weight that would have sunken a lesser man, a lesser talent. Motivation, drive and inspiration were nothing for Joey Flash at the moment, it didn’t matter where his mind was, he was being hunted inside the ring and out but still he sat atop the mountain.
His driving force wasn’t anything like ‘self-preservation’ or ‘furthering his career’; his driving force was sheer arrogance and self-confidence. It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter how little he thought of his opponents, how little they troubled his sleep, how they moved in the ring, their skills, their moves, their motivations, none of it matter. Joey was steadfast in his one truth that was driving him.
‘I am the best’
He knew no one in the world could touch him in a straight fight mano a mano, but nine men? This was a completely whole ballgame. This wasn’t so much a wrestling match but a game of fucking chance. Well Joey was certain of this much, if this is a game of chance Joey was sure as shit going rig all the games and the truth would be apparent to everyone in the match, ‘The House always wins in the end’.
Alessandra: Aren’t you cold sweetie?
Joey bolted upright to find his fiancée stood next to him, he had gotten too comfortable, if this had been Vincenzo...he felt a flush run up his cheeks to combat the freezing weather. It wasn’t Vincenzo, if it was Joey could have died without even having seen his killer coming. This was the wakeup call he needed, stop slacking, you don’t have time for daydreams, and you don’t have time for sleep. You have time to live.
Joey: I’m positively sweltering, how was your day fair lady?
She looked beautiful, she laid the lavish fur down on the grass next to him and followed it down, kicking both heels off she plopped her feet into the cooling grass.
Joey: Oh, sweltering too are you?
She laughed as she laid down next to him.
Alessandra: Positively.
They shared a kiss, and then Alessandra sat up with a start.
Alessandra: I almost forgot! I got you this.
She reached over behind her coat and produced a bottle of Jack Daniels finest Whiskey.
Joey: Your kindness exceeds your beauty, or some shit.
He peeled the top and unscrewed it, it’s a good job it was dark of Joey would have seen the extra-curricular blood specks on the packaging. Joey took a swig and handed it to Alessandra; she necked the equivalent of six shots and gave a sharp exhalation of excitement.
Alessandra: Not bad. What did you get up to? Did Christian get to sleep okay?
Joey: Huh? Yeah he’s okay, I got through two and a third readings of the Hungry Caterpillar, I love that shit more that he did...
Alessandra laughed and took another swig.
Alessandra: Wow. You finally found a book that intrigued you, huh?
Joey shrugged.
Joey: It was my favourite book as a kid is all.
Alessandra smiled, and kissed him on the cheek.
Alessandra: Take you back to simpler times, did it?
Joey: Pretty much.
Joey pulled her close, she flinched when feeling how cold his arms were but grew accustomed quickly. Joey rested his head against hers.
Alessandra: It’s not all doom and gloom Joseph. We’re a family now. And in a few months, when I’m Mrs Malignaggi it’s going to make this shit official. Does it scare you?
Joey took a deep breath.
Joey: Family huh?
He closed his eyes and a smile broke across his face.
Joey: I guess so. Yeah I guess I'm scared.
Alessandra: It’s a big deal, not just for you and me, but my family as well.
The family that wants me dead, got it.
Alessandra: The ceremony is going to be the most beautiful thing ever. Just...
Her words cut out for a moment.
Alessandra: Just promise me one thing.
Joey: What? I’ll get a haircut, don’t worry.
Alessandra: Not that.
She put her arm around him, and kissed his cheek again.
Alessandra: I want you to be okay. No weird behaviour, no erraticness, no... no drugs. I want this day to be perfect and the rest of our lives too. I know you have your problems, but I want us to be happy. Forever. So make sure you’re alright, okay?
Joey took her hand and kissed her forehead.
Joey: I promise. You know...I uhh don’t say this shit enough or show it, but it’s...nice, having you in my life.
Alessandra smiled.
Alessandra: I know. Deep down, I know, but it’s always wonderful to hear it. I love you.
Joey looked up at the stars...
Joey: I promise.
Joey’s words were as hollow as his promises, he cursed to himself, this was the last lie he ever wanted to tell her.
The Flash of Wall Street
18/2/15
The room was cold and corporate, as were the faces around the long table that stretched all of ten meters in front of where Joey Flash stood. He fiddled with his tie as he lowered his briefcase to the desk with a hollow thwack. The nine men around the table seemed bored and sick of him already, he had to change that right quick.
Joey: Hello there gentlemen, my name is Joey Flash and I’m here on behalf of WCF enterprises. I understand your time is precious so rather than just stand in front of you and give a sales pitch; I’ll let the product speak for itself.
He skirts over to the wall and lowers the lights while firing a projector up as it loads a crystal clear video on the screen. It fades into highlights, wrestling highlights, more specifically Joey Flash highlights.
Joey: Here is the product that, all being well will pay long term dividends for you over the long haul.
Man #1: That’s not a product, that’s you.
Joey: Ahhh uhh-
Man #2: What in the hell is this man doing in here?
Joey: No it’s not what you think, I’m ah-
Man #1: This is not our 12:45 meeting, I was sceptical when ‘Sarah Dixon from Microsoft’ showed up with a beard and a shoddy suit!
Man #2: Security!!!
Joey: No please!
Before Joey could even realise what was going on, he had already suplexed the first business man through the table. It was happening again, why did every good intentioned meeting Joey had end up with him beating the shit out of poor innocent people? He pondered on this as he launched a fleeing businessman into a poorly placed cactus in the corner of the room. The poor men who simply wanted to attend a meeting were now in the process of a savage beating from a highly trained athlete, Joey felt both pity and sadness for the man who was begging him not to punch him while he still had his glasses on, Joey agreed that it was wrong as his fist smashed the four eyed bastard right in the chin and sent him splayed limply to the floor. The last of the men was struggling to his feet, Joey watched. The endless struggle of the weak, he shook his head as he was reminded of his competition in the battle royal, this is the sight Joseph would have to become accustomed to it seemed. Helping the last man to his feet he envisioned taking the final of his opponents and launching them helplessly from the ring. He smiled as the glass shattered around him and the final businessman’s screams as he fell from the second floor of the high rise office building made Joey smile with happy familiarity.
Joey: As I was saying…
With the room in absolute carnage, bodies, broken furniture and a mound of smashed glass strewn across the room Joey stood back at the projector.
Joey: This is your product. Here we will critically analyse as to why Joey Flash is worth YOUR investment in both the upcoming Battle Royal, compare him to his competition and critically evaluate each product on the market at the moment.
BIOHAZARD
Strengths: Has Joey Flash’s endorsement, general stupidity leads to surprise attacks, great at making friends, catches opponents off guard by seemingly being an escaped mental patient that made his way into a ring, excellent at giving struggling wrestlers an easy win, and current tag team champion.
Weaknesses: Prone to nuclear meltdown, puts too much trust in a space werewolf from mars, little to no wrestling ability.
Joey: Legendary wrestler, I see no reason why this man is not one of the biggest challenges for this belt, I would place him and his tag team partner as joint second favourites for the belt. It would be an honour to lose to you.
TYLER WALKER
Strengths: Has Joey Flash’s endorsement, great at making friends, unlike other human competitors has an advantage of being a giant monster mutant from another planet, would be an excellent personal trainer if he had social skills, changes name more times than Prince, strong, and current tag team champion.
Weaknesses: Being a space werewolf gives him a lack of understanding of rules, too hairy, doesn’t know his own strength, puts too much trust in a fellow mutant.
Joey: I feel sad that it has to come to this; I hold more respect for this man than I do any other in the federation, save NERDSMASHER George. Has all the tools to become a great wrestler here. DWT for life mothafuckas.
KENNETH RAIDON
Strengths: Good climber (could pursue at professional level), from New York, has Eye of the Tiger as theme song, tall.
Weaknesses: Who is Kenneth Raidon?, Bland, unmarketable, chose to be a wrestler, worthless in ring and promo skills, barely talented, couldn’t lace the boots of T-PAIN, needs work.
Joey: This has to be the single most boring, no mark of a wrestler I’ve ever seen in my career. Let’s not forget that Adam Young is in this match, Kenny do you know how bad that really is? I’m calling you more boring and dull than Adam fucking Young. That’s like telling someone they are a bigger exterminator of Jews than Hitler or they are a better wrestler than Joey Flash, it just doesn’t happen. So for me to bestow such an honour on your wack ass how does that make you feel? I hope it makes you want to wrap a noose round ya neck and drop from a fuckin bridge ya waste of space. You’re the most boring person in this entire federation, if you were any more laid back you be horizontal, whether Kenny is sad, entertained, mad, happy, enraged he reacts exactly the fuckin same. What do you hope to accomplish in your career here? Fuckin wallflower, I couldn’t tell you from a member of security backstage, I couldn’t tell you from a journalist, a fan, a fuckin piece of furniture.
You’re a weak punk pussy, I feel sad I have to reside from the same city as you, when I walk down the street people stop and stare, when you walk down the street people bump into you like ‘I didn’t see you there!’. Straight gimp, your fuckin bio says you’re ‘Charismatic’, yeah sure and Jay Omega’s hung like a horse. You want down from ya fuckin mountain, how about I give you a good shove back to where you belong, anonymity. Just try me, if you wanna take issue with how I’m talkin, how I’m treating you, how I’m going to be beating you, come see me in the streets; shit will be like South Park, Kenny gonna die with his face in the hood.
You’re lucky this is the type of match it is, if I had my chance to fully concentrate on your destruction it would be picture perfect in its beauty, for now I’m gonna have to just brush you off like the fly you are, cos I’ve got bigger fish to fry, in case you’re wondering…haddock.
So Kenneth, ‘ride on’ into oblivion you worthless bastard.
REGINALD DAMPSHAW III
Strengths: Intelligent, well spoken, wise, charismatic, opulent, classy, well dressed, skilled.
Weaknesses: British.
Joey: So we go from one ‘Duke’ in Kenny to another one in Reggie, what the fuck is this? This is a wrestling company not an old boys social club you fuckin morons. You are one pompous, stuck up, ignorant fuckhead of a man Reggie. What brought you to America in the first place? Was it the classy women? Was it the good beer? Was it the healthy food? Was it the public schools? Was it the excellent gun control? Fuck me, you have a life as good as it gets in your own little bubble, so what are you doing here? Oh I get it, you want to prove yourself in the greatest wrestling federation in the world right? Just a little question I have for you, peep this…
You never even seem fucking interested in wrestling, so why are you here? You actively turn down matches, duck out challenges and generally bitch out of any fight that actually might further your career. You seem more at home preaching to the fans than actually lacing up ya boots ya fuckin princess. Are you going to even step through the ropes for this match or will you simply stand at the top of the ramp lording it up before I run down and kick ya teeth down your throat. Or ya gonna get Critchton Merriweather to do your fighting for you? He seems to do every fucking thing else. Does he give you a helping hand when ya watching porn too? You lie to the women telling them you’re the ‘tag team champions’, they’re impressed til they get back to your room and understand what ya meant by that, faggot.
Weak ass bitch, Isle of Wight, I’m surprised you ain’t from the Isle of Man ya fuckin frootloop. Sure thing you’re a lord and a rich man in a place where the population is you, Critchton and ten sheep. Local news headline ‘Man slips in the rain!’ Here in the WCF is where I’m the reigning lord; I’m lord, prince and king rolled into one beautiful package, maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you sit in my court as my fuckin footstool when I’m done with you ya whelp.
You’re a weak hit, I’m a potent strain, I’m the OG Hindu Kush, you’re a dime bag of reggie, Reggie. Yet another part timer who can’t make hack it here, you talk a good game same as anyone, shit I had a bit of hope for you when you first started but look what you’ve done since, sweet fuck all. You are one of those dime a dozen people who come through the federation claiming greatness when showing nothing more than apathy and poor aptitude for the sport. It doesn’t matter that you’re going to lose to me, you don’t even seem to be phased, wins and losses are nothing to you. Your sole interest here is to lord it over people you deem as lesser, well who is the lesser in reality? You’re the man who has given up everything in his homeland for a slice of that American pie, but you’re not liking the taste, it’s a little bitter for your delicate Dampshaw mouth ain’t it?
You’re worse than most people in this match because you seem to have at least one brain cell in ya noggin, so to see the lack of drive is sickening. This match will either be the making of you or the breaking of you, I’m almost certain it’s the latter. Sad I had to meet you in such a match first so I couldn’t give you the special lesson only a proper beat down can give, but shit, I’ll try my best. Toodle pip Reggie.
ADAM YOUNG
Strengths: None.
Weaknesses: Healthy respiratory system keeping him alive.
Joey: Why are you still alive? Why do you feel it necessary to draw breath on this earth? Mr Old School, the only thing old about you is apparently your Alzheimer’s riddled brain from too many beatings in the ring. I don’t say this lightly, I insinuated poor Kenny was the blandest wrestler but notice I didn’t ever use the word ‘worst’. Well sir, that word is reserved for a special brand of shithead, the type of shithead who has ‘Cartels’ of spastics following their every whim and constantly tries to pretend they are something they ain’t, in this case a professional wrestler. I hate to break it to you man, but you wanna know why Seth keeps you around here? I think you’ll notice a pattern here, you either seem to be fighting people on your level like Ultimate Destroyer to keep your confidence up or you’re taking on the best of the best in ridiculous matchups. You had a #1 contendership match against Steeltoe Joe, wanna know why? Because Seth wanted Joe to have chance at crushing ICE, knowing full well you didn’t have a chance in hell. You were there out of circumstance, you’re the tune up fight before a big event, it gives you a false sense of self-affirmation that oh gee you might actually be getting somewhere here! Seth takes pity on you, but you’re getting no such pity from me you ball gobbling shit, I want never to be in your presence again you worthless daft deluded cunt.
Has it not dawned on you yet your position in this company? Do you not seem to realise that you are and have been since long before I arrived the walking joke of this company? You’re so worthless, you’re such a nobody that people don’t even talk about you behind your back they say it right to your fucking face, just how I’m telling you now, you are legitimately the worst wrestler in this company.
Clearly, no debating. You’re a laughing stock, the fact I have to put up with listening to your promos week after week and seeing you take up spots in matches that could be used to showcase a better talent, like I dunno, Taz Taylor, makes me feel the bile rise in my throat. Step out of the ring and stick to your twitter game, it’s the only way people care even slightly what you do, even then, guess what it’s like the interest you have in watching a lame cat hobbling across a motorway wondering when a car is going to send it on its way for good. Well I plan on being that Mack truck that sends Mr Fluffykins straight to fuckin hell.
You are a walking, talking car crash. You fuckin hick. At least Doc Henry carries himself with some class; you’re just a racist piece of shit who gets by on controversy. Well that doesn’t sell tickets or merch, what sells is talent. You’re a liability, your views are a liability, your fucking Cartel of tinfoil wearing, Kool Aid drinking faggots are a liability, I would say your wrestling skills are a liability but I would be giving them too much praise.
Do us all a favour, kill ya fuckin self.
SIN ROSTRO JR
Strengths: Lawn mowing, cleaning, dish washing, construction, bastardising classic US cars, large brimmed hats for sunshine based bathing.
Weaknesses: Tequila, ugly women, bad botch filled matches, flatulent inducing foods, and constant disappointment to his father.
Joey: Jesus, is this guy still here? Wait, did ya catch that HAY-SUS ya fuckin spic bastard. Ah fuck well my anti-racist rant toward Adam is a goner fuck sake, think before you speak Joey, oh well ya wetback fuckhead what the fuck are you still doing here? You’re as rare as the mythical ‘good Adam Young match’, I feel like I need to get a picture with you just to verify you even exist in this world. You pop up once a month with renewed determination to prove yourself amongst the WCF’s talent pool, perform below adequately and then slink back into whatever hovel you crawled out from.
How you even have this shot is baffling to me, see I do actually have respect for my opponents if they get their shit earned with hard work. If they work their way up, fighting through the competition and finally get rewarded with a shot at greatness. When they stroll in and are just handed a shot at fighting me is when I feel the need to really put my foot down. You have done absolutely nothing to earn your place in the match, fuck even Mr Old School himself at least has enough fight to keep on going when things don’t look good, you? You just up and disappear the second you lose and then resurface when you think everyone’s forgotten what a bitch you are. When I beat you, you’re going to feel hard done by, sad and confused. If you want to prove that you have the talents you talk about and the longevity in this business, I expect to see you as my opponent again in a couple of months, fuck man at least I expect to see you fighting at least once more in the WCF ya fuckin flake, and if I don’t? Well, then it will just prove that I’m right about you all along. You’re not deserving, or good enough for this spot.
If Sin Rostro Sr could see you now, looking at you disgracing his mask and his lineage at every turn I can’t imagine what he’d think.
“Honor our family” Were the last words your dear old daddy ever spoke in his worthless life. Well look how you’ve done there Junior? He dishonoured his family at your birth by letting you fuckin live. Is it any surprise you turned out to be the disgrace you are now?
You duck every challenge, every match and can’t even have the cojones to stick around in the face of defeat…well I guess ya daddy was defeated by mortality so it’s only fair wrestling immortality takes ya fuckin head off. I wish I could punch your dead daddy dead in his face and tell him what a piece of shit his wife plopped out her cunt. What? You got a problem with what I’m saying? Oh Joey you going overboard, nah, this mothafucka’s pops already did that on his way to our fucking country.
You’re as much of a joke as your fathers misplaced faith in you was. You will be humiliated infront of the million PPV buyers south of the border, I hope each and every of them watches as I give you the beating I guess ya daddy never did. But not is all lost, you’re never going to make it as a wrestler, I guess you understand that yourself, but guess what a lucrative position working alongside me in my business has opened up. So bring ya fuckin hedge clippers and report in sharp Monday morning ya fuckin sap.
ULTIMATE DESTROYER
Strengths: Fought Joey Flash twice (that’s gotta count for something), large, similar nuclear abilities lead him to be a foe for Biohazard, will endanger self without any real concern for his wellbeing to incapacitate an opponent.
Weaknesses: Is a literal human sized piece of whale shit, the flushing mechanism of toilets, can’t wrestle, will endanger self without any real concern for his wellbeing to incapacitate an opponent.
Joey: Good fucking god. Retardo the Large is back for yet a third crack at the champ. Welcome back buddy, I’ve fucking missed you. Want a hot chocolate and a foot rub? You nuclear fuckwit, you’re like a 400lb boomerang, I throw you away with disdain and back you come once again for yet another savage beating. You’re like a fuckin popup, the second you’re closed, another one opens and back you come with a vengeance, well with a pitiful attempt at vengeance.
How sad is this getting for you now? Pavlov would have a field day with your retarded mentality, ‘If I approach this elite, handsome wrestler I get the shit beaten out of me’, this has happened too many times for it not to create a learned behaviour of simply ‘avoid elite, handsome wrestler’ but it seems the exact fuckin opposite has happened with you, and well, here you are again.
I’ve faced you so many times it feels like I’m replaying the same boring nightmare over and over again, destined to beat up your weak ass and punk you for ever and eternity. I would have hoped that perhaps the nemesis of Joey Flash would be someone worth fighting but it seems for reasons out of my control you have assumed the mantle. I don’t know what it feels like to you that this keeps happening? I can’t possibly put myself into your position Destroyer, to find yourself constantly flung like the shit you are at an impenetrable wall in hope that somehow it sticks.
Lemme save you, Seth and any other person stupid enough to clamour for this match again the time. I’m going to end the chapter in my book named ‘Joey Flash vs The Ultimate Shitstain’ once and for all, you could put this match in any situation, in any scenario in any place in the world and it would have the same outcome. This is not one of those times where Destroyer has even a punchers chance, he couldn’t even get that. He’s not a 99/1 to shot, we could fight a hundred times and the outcome would be the same every single time. The only variable being how I deem the fight should end. That is all.
Destroyer, accept your position at the bottom of the food chain and stare up in awe at the alpha male of this company, get your fucking shinebox and clean my shoes you walking talking piece of faecal matter.
DOC HENRY
Strengths: Cooks good BBQ.
Weaknesses: Small manhood, southern, racial prejudice allows him suspicion of many people, lack of civilization, comes from overweight jobless caste, lived in impoverish trailer park conditions, poor wrestler, liar (owns no PhD, cannot call self Doc).
Joey: Doc fuckin Brown, enjoyed laying a beating on this chump last week, I’d say it was my crowning achievement, but he’s shit, so it’s just another notch on my bedpost. You pathetic bastard, yet another man talked a big game, thought himself the big I am and tried to treat me as a lucky newcomer. You’ve been in this federation for years and years, you’ve seen the greats come and go, probably lost to most of them on the way, but you thought ‘I can get this kid, his scalp will be mine. He’s not what he’s hyped up to be.’ Then I took out the trash and thrashed you with the ease of dashing a newborn’s brains.
What do you think now? Do you think I’m any less dangerous than the Hall of Famers and legends you’ve fought? I bet in the back of your mind you still have a niggling feeling, that feeling that says ‘Ahh I coulda beat him ya know, I coulda been a contender!’ You were complaining about what happened with the refs in the match, hey guess what, fucking man up ya pussy. Shit happens, I won the match and you lost, but I see where you’re coming from, if I lost in a similar manner to you I guess I’d probably have a problem with it myself.
This time we meet in the ring I will leave your veteran ass with absolutely no doubt the better of us two. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you can sure make em fuckin realise who the dominant member of the pack is, and I’m gonna do exactly that at Timebomb. You are utterly, completely, truly, madly, deeply not even close to my level. Would you approach Jonny Fly, Steve Orbit, fuck even Beckman with the same level of disdain and disrespect you are showing me? Nah I don’t suppose you would, I suppose you would look at the floor while walking past em because you feel the pressure of your betters.
I’m not going to make you look away when we pass in the corridor; I’m going to make you so shit scared of being in my presence you’re going to get your reps in two clear hours before I even think about hitting the gym.
I’m not even gonna touch on your lifestyle, where you come from or who you are outside the ring, we’ve done that. I’m gonna touch on the man you are inside the ring, you are an over the hill, shot, lame horse that’s about to be put out to pasture, but before it gets there I’m taking you straight to the glue factory Boxer. Your experience and your know how didn’t help you for shit the first time we met, and guess what motherfucker, a week isn’t going to make enough of a difference to make it even come close to breaching our gap. If anything the exact opposite has happened, the gap is growing rapidly as I ascend to godhood and you descend into the mediocrity that you are. With every veteran here hanging on by a string I’m going to sever your past glories with one swift, sharp swing of my sword.
You’re going to be my warning to any of the old faggots in the back who want to try making a jump back into the big time off my back, it’s not going to happen, but the hospital is giving beds out for all you fucks. Enjoy your last dance in the limelight Doc, it’s going to be swift and it’s going to be fucking brutal.
APOCALYPSE
Strengths: Big.
Weaknesses: Is every pathetic fucking cliché that a ‘monster’ wrestler is, makes Oblivion look positively sane.
Joey: Last and most definitely least it’s the herald of the four horsemen Mr Apocalypse! Welcome to your five seconds of fame ya massive twat. First thing’s first fuckhead, it’s something I’ve been wondering for a while, why do all of you psychotic, mentally retarded, roided up massive cunts have names about death, destruction and the end of the world? Apocalypse, Oblivion, Ultimate Destroyer I mean what are you people doing here? Is this a window into your creativity or simply your deluded madness? How about for once we get one of these fuckin nutjobs who kills, rapes and tortures with the name ‘Mr Huggybunny’, y’know throw us off the scent a little bit. When I’m having a business meeting with ‘Apocalypse’ I can’t help but fear for the worst, you people are the worst set of ‘evil monsters’ I’ve ever fuckin seen. If Michael Myers was called ‘THE SLITTER OF THROATS AND KILLER OF MEN’ I don’t think he would have seemed anyway near as particularly menacing, come on boys you’re missing the boat here.
Do you really think you’re scaring people with this shit? On that kindergarten tip, none of that shit will fly here, Bermuda Triangle. You’re a straight up buffoon, you talk like a child, you look like a child, you have hissy fits like a child and you want me to take you seriously? Oblivion at least presents himself correct; you present yourself like a comic book parody of what he is.
No wonder he doesn’t recognise your ass anymore ‘best friend’, it’s not that he doesn’t, it’s that he doesn’t want to be associated with someone as pitiful as you. Who fucking would? You’re a joke. You’re the antithesis of anything that is quality within this federation; you are the sewer waste of my palace here. You’re from my ‘Darkest Fears’, clearly, my darkest fears are having such a pathetic uncoordinated, uncouth, idiotic lug of a person ambling about in the federation doing a grand total of zilch.
What meds were they feeding you? Apparently now you’re high on delusion, stupidity and lack of talent, I didn’t know Adam Young pills were in circulation for the mentally retarded but I guess these fancy psych hospitals have all sorts of interesting shit huh? Wanna know what I’m going to diagnose you with after you have the misfortune of making my acquaintance on Sunday? DND (Disassociated Nose Disorder) after I smash ya fuckin shnozz straight off your face ya Uncle Fester looking motherfucker, Quasimodo with down syndrome lookin bastard.
You came back and hoped to make a big run at a title, well whoops, look who’s in ya fucking way for your second match it’s Joey Flash! I’m gonna put you into a Joey Flash induced coma so we don’t have to put up with your rambling the same spiel week after week, shit maybe I’ll even make Bonnie my bottom bitch, it’d be a considerable step up from your ranting, dribbling self.
I duffed out your best friend with ease and he was a former World Champ here, so what do you think I’m going to do to you hmm? No Joey! I will beat you!!! Yep, how about instead quit the fucking wrestling, take Oblivion, take Ultimate Destroyer and go play a game of ‘PSYCHOPATHIC ROIDED UP CUNTS – The Gathering’ so you tedious copy and paste fucks can be gone from tainting my interest, the federation and everyone else with your incessant bullshit. Fuck off back to the asylum you came from or I’ll have you going to a fuckin morgue instead, you clown.
Joey takes a deep breath in, the room is still as carnage ridden as before Joey started his presentation, a couple of the men are stirring to which a swift boot to the face quickly ends.
Joey: Now the part you were all waiting for, I’m sorry it took so long and you had to sit through such dross…you’ve been a great crowd. Now this is the commodity I hope you will consider investing in, gentleman, introducing…
JOEY FLASH
Strengths: Sincere, Honest, Understanding, Loyal, Truthful, Trustworthy, Intelligent, Open-Minded, Thoughtful, Considerate, Good-Natured, Reliable, Warm, Kind, Friendly, Unselfish, Honourable, Responsible, Cheerful, Trustful, Gentle, Well-Spoken, Educated, Tactful, Polite, Forgiving, Well-Read, Respectful, Good-Tempered, Patient, Sportsmanlike, Well-Mannered, Cooperative, Ethical, Self-Controlled.
Weaknesses: Too modest.
Evaluation: This man here is the complete article folks, if you are investing make sure to do so now, the stock is fixing to climb every single week from here on out so you are truly getting an amazing basement price, for the price of a million each you can sponsor the man known as Joey Flash for the next four, yes I repeat four shows. A great deal that involves product promotion, advertising and much much more!
Joey: So here it, the be all and end all, there in all fairness didn’t even need to be the past twenty minutes of a rambling presentation, the only thing that was needed was the fact that Joey Flash was competing in this match. In this match let’s be Frank, no one can see me like the rabbit in Donnie Darko.
I’ve waxed lyrical about every single facet of this match, but in the end it boils down to ‘Joey Flash is booked in match, Joey Flash wins match’ this isn’t a gimmick, this isn’t a mantra, this is a fucking lifestyle. Lifestyles of the rich and famous, lifestyle of the best wrestler in the world.
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
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Eight
Nine
Preparing nine of the finest fucking bodybags in WCF for you to enjoy. Ya fuckin done.
Bodybags on deck, cocksuckers. Light work.
It’s at this stage it dawns on Joey that rather than making a sales pitch he has instead committed a grand total of around twenty or so criminal offenses in the past twenty minutes. He sighs to himself and removes the wallets of each of the businessmen from their pockets. This will have to do rather than the investment, gah. Oh well, better than nothing...twenty one criminal offenses.
This is your life
19/2/15
Vincenzo sat up in his car as he saw the familiar black BMW pull out from the Allegri mansion; he waited a few moments for it to get a length or two down the road before hitting the gas himself. He chuckled to himself; this was too good to be true. Joseph was a very erratic driver this evening it seemed, if a police car caught him here it wouldn’t be good. He suspected Joey had been drinking again, he seemed to be heading in the same direction as he did last week. At least now Vincenzo could be sure.
After around ten minutes the car stopped abruptly outside a suburban house, Joey Flash clambered from his car and staggered out. Vincenzo watched as Joey knocked on the door, the same short, dishevelled looking man as last time Vincenzo tailed him answered. Joseph’s drug supplier, how very very quaint. You really are small time Flash. He smiled, not tonight Joseph, I’ll let you have your fix, your reputation, your name and your connection to Miss Allegri will be going up in flames soon enough. Vincenzo was stunned at how easy to predict Joseph had been, he was truly a fool. Like a moth to a flame, like a fly into the spiders web. All would be prepared for within the next couple of weeks.
Joey Flash, this is your life.
END.
