"In Memoriam (Honorarium for the Thick)"
Jun 19, 2015 17:07:36 GMT -5
Night Rider, Kaz, and 6 more like this
Post by Joey Flash on Jun 19, 2015 17:07:36 GMT -5
Unfortunate Son
Alessandra loved Joey being a wrestler. The first time she had met him they had both been fresh faced teenagers, she was nineteen and sat ringside at an Allegri foundation fundraiser bored out of her skull as her father schmoozed with investors and stakeholders, her brother Paolo has been thoroughly entranced with every bit of action that night jumping up and down at each move and each punch thrown, he was still a child after all. She was all ready to slink off to the bathroom for a drink of vodka from a flask in her purse to perhaps liven the drabness of this drudgery up when she saw him.
She hadn’t even noticed him enter the ring, nor paid any notice during the introductions but at the sound of a resounding crack of bone slamming into bone with such shattering authority made her look toward the ring for the first time in the entire evening. None of the other ‘matches’ had produced a sound like this, there he stood.
The man had long jet black hair flopping down his back and was the exact opposite of the man he had just flattened in the ring. Whereas the downed man, who was bravely struggling to his feet, was large, veins bursting from his skin and his muscles seemed to have muscles of their own this other man with the long hair was built more like an Olympic swimmer or a professional boxer with long lean muscles as if the only reason he ever hit the gym was to hone his craft. She sat up in her chair to watch the rest of this match, what happened over the next three minutes made both her and her younger brother stare on into the ring in stony silence.
The long haired man who she had first thought to be just an ‘athlete’ turned out to be something else entirely, the piercing blue eyes fixed on his opponent and the mesmerizing smile on his face as he toyed with his opponent was like nothing she had seen before. He could have finished the brute at any point but his smile grew wider and wider as he simply…hurt the man. By the time the referee stepped in, the large man had a face full of blood, fluid leaking from his eardrums and a swollen (and likely shattered) orbital bone. Alessandra had jumped up and screamed a shrill ‘NO’ as the referee waved the fight off. Her brother concurred, angry that his favourite wrestler had not been given a chance to continue. It made her laugh, she wasn’t worried about the big bruiser who was being carried off by paramedics, she simply wanted to see more.
In the end this night had been more than worth it, she watched as the man in the ring seemed so nonplussed at his victory. He was sad, she sensed, he was so close to the kill. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she watched the referee approached the long haired man and raised his hand in the air; she had to know his name…
‘Your winner by way of Technical Knockout…Joooooooeeeeeeey Flaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaash!’
As she sat down all of eight years later to watch the man she loved go to work again a smile crossed her face. She had seen him compete hundreds of times, through the highest highs and the lowest lows she had seen him fight in many disciples, in many countries, but this was where he was most at home.
Her fiancée had always been a prize-fighter. She watched with glee as she watched him take Oblivion apart, their son sat beside her as her brother had all those years ago, the same expressive and concentrated look across the boy’s face as he was taking in the atmosphere and watching his father go about his work. To Alessandra this was the equivalent of porn, seeing one person cradle another’s life, health and wellbeing in their very hands and to dangle it in front of their opponent like a cat with some yarn. Each bodyshot, each kick to the head, each submission and each time Oblivion writhed around in agony Alessandra had to bite her lip to stop her moaning in ecstasy. By the time the fight had ended and Joey had predictably been declared the winner of the contest.
Alessandra turned to Christian, feeling a hot flush run up her neck.
Alessandra: That was good wasn’t it? Daddy won.
Christian simply stared at the screen, nonplussed.
Alessandra: What, what’s wrong? He won!
Christian didn’t even make eye contact with Alessandra, the three year old son of Joey Flash and Alessandra Allegri just stared straight ahead.
Christian: Why did it stop?
Alessandra: What honey? Why did what stop?
Christian: Match. I wanted to see him hurt that man more.
Alessandra smiled and kissed her son on the head as she filled with pride.
Alessandra: Me too…me too.
She held the boy tight and couldn’t help letting out a little giggle to herself, he truly was her son.
Split Screen Tango
We open in the same studio that Hank Brown had just interviewed Howard Black in; we see Howard and Joey Flash sat next to each other. We focus on Joey Flash who has his head down and seems deep in thought.
Hank: As promised here we are with the ‘great’ Joey Flash. Now Joey, I know it took a lot of restraint, but thanks for holding your tongue for once.
Joey doesn’t respond.
Hank: Joey?
Still.
Hank: Joooooooooeeeeeey. Hey, Imperium suck, your mother is uglier than Betty Adams. Boooooo.
Still.
Howard makes a gesture of pulling imaginary headphones out of his ears as he looks unamused at his tag team partner for this week before punching him on the arm. Joey immediately looks up and plucks headphones from his ears in a motion identical to the one Howard mimicked seconds earlier.
Joey: What?
Howard: Interview, numb nuts.
Joey looked toward Hank shocked.
Joey: Me already? I was enjoying listening to Howard talk.
Joey smiles and slouches back in his chair.
Joey: Go for it man, let’s actually give these people something entertaining, maybe a sound bite or two to use for the website or some shit. Fuckin Howie over here sounding like an adult from Peanuts, marble mouthed faggot.
Howard: Do you WANT to get your teeth kicked out your mouth?
Joey holds a hand toward Howard.
Joey: In time man in time, for now please hush.
He turns to Hank
Joey: See, how disrespectful these people are nowadays can’t even shut up when someone else is talking.
Hank: Well this is tru-
Joey: How disrespectful. Let’s get this interview poppin.
Hank: Very well! Ahem. With the abrupt retirement of Bobby Cairo, many are questioning the status of Imperium, especially with the rise of the DRG. With the hurdles its faces, can Imperium survive?
Joey: In the space of one month we have lost the two people who headlined One, the two people who held the World Heavyweight Title jointly for the last year in the WCF, two of the greatest wrestlers the federation has ever seen. Any other wrestling faction in the world would be crippled and on its knees right now but Imperium? We’re as strong as ever. When Joey Flash is still around it automatically keeps you as the dominant force in the company, we still have Kaz, ZMAC and Odin? Shit there’s nothing even to think about. Though this Slam is going to be the perfect Epitaph to the Bobfather’s career, we’re going to crush shit.
As far as some of the talk goes about whether we’re looking to add replacements, please, how do you replace Bobby Cairo and Natural ICE Beckman? You don’t. Imperium does not ‘recruit’. The only additions that will ever be made will be if either man steps back into the ring again.
Imperium still stands two members down, and I’m righting the ship right here. We are going absolutely fucking nowhere except full speed straight ahead through anyone who dares step in our way. ZMAC is reborn, Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the company, Odin is…Odin. Nothing more needs to be said.
However the most terrifying thing for you people is going to be something that came as a by-product from the sad retirement of Robert Cairo, you people are going to see something that is going to blow ya fuckin minds. The Monstuh is finally going to be unleashed, enjoy the sins you have wrought ya fuckin punks.
Hank: Last week, Oblivion broke into your home in a controversial segment. While your fiance was reportedly unharmed and able to drive the monster off, do you have any words for other members of the WCF with families or loved ones who may face Oblivion in the future?
Joey laughs
Joey: Jesus I feel for Oblivion, poor guy got his head beat in by Alessandra and then by me back to back. What next Obi, you want to get a fuckin beating from my three year old child as well? Good god. I’ll say this much though, the guy is a straight up fuckin madman. If Al wasn’t Al and was just another woman it could have been something a lot lot worse than it was.
I think people need to be careful, as dangerous as the guy was before he seems to have truly been pushed over the edge from the savage one sided domination I doled out to him last week, if you’re facing him shit, you better make sure you put him down, you better make sure he can’t walk after the match or your family, your friends, ya pet fuckin Chihuahua is in grave danger.
Or shit, at least make sure you’re strapped at home. Thank god for America.
Hank: Your tag partner this week, Howard Black, is facing Thomas Bates at Blast next Sunday. There seems to be no loss of love between yourself or either of these men; what are your thoughts on their upcoming match and the perceived importance of their matches this week?
Joey: Want the politically correct answer or the truth?
Hank: Politically correct.
Joey: They are both great competitors and I’m certain it’ll be a good match of top talent.
Hank: And the truth?
Joey: They both fuckin suck. Thomas Bates is a scrub of the highest order and Howard Black isn’t much better, to be having to drag his wack ass to a win this week is very annoying for me. Shit, Bates is probably gonna fuck things up and lose to Babaddon or whatever the fuck and this whole thing won’t even be worth talking about. But hey, for such bottom feeding talent like these guys I’m sure this match means a great deal to them, it’s their big moment to shine against a person of equal mediocrity. If I had to pick a winner I’ll go with Coward, he’ll be able to absorb a smidge of wrestling blessing from yours truly on Sunday and the simple fact he was on the same side as me for however long I decide to allow the match to go will probably be the boon he needs to carry him over the shitty little finish line and add another terrible belt holder in this federation.
Hank: You seem to see yourself as a main-eventer, calling out members of the WCF such as Dune and Scarecrow. Yet many do not see you as having earned this status in the federation. What are your responses to those people?
Joey: Who are these ‘many’? Fuckin you?
Hank: I’m just asking questions.
Joey: Well, you tell me Hank, am I a main eventer?
Hank: Do you want the politically correct answer or the truth?
Joey: Politically correct.
Hank: Talent wise, Joey Flash is up there with the best the federation has ever seen.
Joey: And the truth?
Hank: Hell to the no! You have main evented like one match your entire career, by sheer definition Joey I’m sorry but you are far from this. Dune is guaranteed main event status almost every time out and Scarecrow is one of the best in the business who is main eventing THIS week.
Joey: …
Hank: What?
Joey: Why does everything you say have to be so pathetically ridiculous? You’ve seen my entire journey Hank, you’ve seen what Joey Flash has been from day one, he was exactly what he said he was from the moment he joined the WCF. Some call me arrogant and conceited, the same type of people that think me lacking of the quality needed to compete at main event level here. What’s important to you people? Accolades? Do you need to have a hunk of metal around your waist as a way to prove your skill in the ring? As far as Joey Flash is concerned, there is only one hunk of metal that matters in this federation and it’s the one I’m going to tear from the cold hands of your ‘main eventer’ Dune.
For someone who has been held down and saboutaged and generally conspired against by the venerable Seth Lerch for his entire career I’m still holding shit down in a way no one else in this federation can touch. So call me what you want, main eventer or not it’s a fuckin position that you’re put in by that scumbag Lerch and has absolutely dick to do with talent, or what you’ve earned. Point in question, I’ve spent the last two weeks asking, begging, nigh on pleading to get the chance to beat Scarecrow’s brains in and yet week after week my demands are ignored in favour of what? Gemini fucking Battle again.
Fuck this shit.
Howie, you better hold up your end of the bargain here or I’m takin your fuckin head after the match is over.
Howard: Worry about yourself.
Both men stand up from their chairs and The Imperious One and The False Prophet stare each other down as the interview fades to black…
Your Journey...
The colour of the world faded in front of his very eyes. Joey felt groggy as he staggered down the corridor; he felt the harsh touch of the rotting wooden walls as he tried to steady himself with a hand. His legs gave way and he careened into the wall, a sense of dread enveloped every fibre of Joey Flash as he heard the laughter again, it had been following him for as long as he could remember. The sound echoed through the dense wood and resonated along the corridor, it was enough to make a snake’s veins pump with icicles. It was as close to a death knell of a deer being mauled to death by a bear as he could ever imagine laughter being.
Joey hyperventilated as the sound got closer. He struggled back to his feet but by now it felt as if his feet were in sludge; each step was a monumental struggle as he could feel the muscle fibres tearing with exertion as his wrenched one leg in front of the other. He had to get away, he had to. The laughter was closer still; it was closing in on him. Joey was walking and walking, it seemed an eternity and he seemed to be going absolutely nowhere. The door at the end of the corridor seemed no closer than it was five minutes ago. He looked to his feet and found them now stuck and he was unable to move, even worse that he felt himself losing equilibrium, he was sinking. Sand.
The sound was on top of him now, Joey looked toward the doorway that was slowly fading from view and found himself covering his ears, anything to make this sound stop, anything, anything. He looked back behind him to see a shrouded figure looking at him as he sank to eternal darkness. This was the source of the laughter, of the fear, of the terror welling up in his stomach right now. The laughter was illuminated by a smiling mouth as the figure knelt down, the cracked white makeup across its face and sickening disfigured smile. The laughing clown laughed one more sickening guttural chuckle.
Figure: You fear me…
Joey Flash sat up in bed with a start. He quickly scanned the room and checked to see if Alessandra was in bed, he nudged her awake. She sleepily opened one eye to see Joey hyperventilating and covered in sweat.
Alessandra: What is it? Another clown dream?
Joey: Yeah, but fuck…
Alessandra: You’ve been having these dreams for months, what is wrong with you; did you watch IT as a child?
She turned onto her haunches and sat up next to him.
Joey: No, I just feel like I’m being fuckin haunted by something.
Alessandra: Haunted?
Joey: Like, something just won’t leave me alone, it doesn’t matter what I do it’s always there in the back of my mind gnawing away and away. Do you understand what I mean?
Alessandra: But…it’s a clown.
Joey: I don’t fuckin know what the fuck, but can you just hug me and stroke my hair.
Alessandra: No.
Joey: What, why?
Alessandra: Remember what Doctor Edwards said? You should write any of these types of dreams down and keep a note of them. It seems a pretty ridiculous idea and I think you’re perfectly fine and normal; everyone gets panic attacks, severe anxiety and chronic depression from time to time.
Joey: Really?
Alessandra: Really sweetie. You’re perfect as you are, but if it helps, write in your silly book.
Joey reached over to the dresser beside the bed and clicked the light on; he fumbled blindly as his eyes adjusted to the light for his little book. He had been keeping track of any particularly vivid dreams over the past couple of months in this small black book entitled ‘Your Journey Into Dreams’ a ‘Joseph Malignaggi tale’ was scribbled shoddily below the official title. He skipped through the book, pausing to look at a few choice dreams.
Dream: In dream I was in prison and repeatedly sexual assaulted and sodomized by a gang of skinheads with massive under bites, they each had sunglasses and a beanie hat on. The leader of the gang seemed to be the most painful of them all though; time and time again he took me. Any which way, it didn’t matter, I was his. He called me his property, his ‘Prince’, confiscated my television from my room, and raped me once more. Please let no one ever read this.
UPDATE – Recurring dream.
UPDATE II – Recurring dream.
What you think it means: I lost to Grime.
Dream: A woman with canker sores covering her face, one leg and a large phallus swinging between its legs claims to be my wife hunts me from town to town. Genuinely scary, feared for life, woke up scared. Think had child by this woman at one point, but it got raped by Oblivion later in same dream. I was pleased in dream.
What you think it means: Read Katherine Phoenix on twitter today.
Dream: Created human centipede, in dream I was doctor. People were successful businessmen I managed to convince to join me for a ‘meal’, they didn’t know what they signed up for and ended up part of twisted sick experiment, I took pleasure in dream, enjoyed as shit was passed from one end to another. I think I killed the two most successful people before the dream ended.
What you think it means: Formed Imperium.
He picked a pen off the side and began to jot his dream down.
Dream: Was chased down corridor by laughter, made me feel faint and scared. Then was trapped in sand as laughter got closer, laughter louder as I sunk in sand then clown appeared and told me I fear it, it wasn’t wrong. Scared in dream.
What you think it means: Fucking kill Gemini Battle.
Joey unleashed barrage after barrage of punches on his weathered heavy bag, as much as Joey tossed and turned, as much as he had his hair stroked he simply couldn’t find himself falling away to sleep. Not for fear, not for anything close, he could feel the adrenalin pumping through him already; with a final almost orgasmic grunt he fired one last kick at the bag.
Joey: Really? Fucking really?
He battles me in the ring, he battles me on the net, he battles me backstage but now the fucker had invaded my dreams. You’re that one thing I can never seem to escape from. You’re like that annoying kid in school who would always try to tag along with you because you were the only person who made the mistake of saying ‘hello’ to them once. You’re the bitch who spam rings ya phone because you got your dick sucked outside a club and stupidly gave her ya digits. You are a bonafide cock-a-roach to my time here in the WCF; you must have nine lives, cos no matter how many times I kill you in that ring motherfucker you just will not die.
Can you not just like…go away or something, I’m more than willing to forget you ever existed, forget all of our matches, if you just kindly fuck the fuck off. You are one of the most annoying motherfuckers in the federation, this is a federation with Katherine Phoenix….aight I’m trippin no fucker is that annoying. But you’re damn close. Shit I think I’m on to it here, my two most often fought opponents in the WCF are…Gemini and fuckin Kathy. SETH! Suck a fat one ya fuckin faggot, if I fight Katherine Phoenix next week I’m legitimately killing you. If I fight Gemini Battle I’m legitimately killing Torture in front of you with Jayson Price’s limp brain dead corpse. That one will really fuckin hurt.
I’ve bodied you so many times I can barely keep count, you can keep count how many times you’ve beaten me just feel ya fuckin ballsack and count, uno. Fuckboy you are the biggest waste of time in the entire federation. Every time Gemini Battle has to hear Joey Flash talk about him it tears a little bit of his soul away from him, I dissect you in a way no one else does Gemini, no one else sees past the paint and the scares to the coward and weakling at the centre. You won Trios, congratulations. How does it feel to be the most talented member of your team and be getting absolutely jack shit for it? A retarded little trinket that means absolutely nothing other than the fact you got lucky a few times in a row, a fuckin blind man could win three blackjack hands in a row. That’s what the DRG did in the Trios Cup, now Gonzo is on his way to being embarrassed by Dune, Bates is gonna get fuckin whitewashed by my faggot of a partner at Blast and you Gemini? Where do you go from here? What’s your next move, while all your other men are getting big shots and massive matches where do you go from here?
Joey sighs
Joey: You’ve been had man, you’ve bent over and presented your rear to Bates and Gonzo, to the DRG as a whole and now they’re running a train on that shit. You’ve been well and truly used and abused. You were someone who was a threat to Thomas Bates, I remember, I remember how close we were to seeing you two clash in one hell of a feud and look what happens you get taken for a shmuck and made to be his little lapdog. He’s more than happy to let yourself be called ‘President’, shit he’ll even fix you a nice little badge saying as much, that’ll keep you happy. You’re so blind and stupid that you don’t even realise that the clown really is the one being laughed at this entire time, you’re a joke.
You’ve been the best wrestler in the DRG for the past month, clearly, no debating. What do you have to show from it? Come on man I’m waiting? They your friends? Your brothers? Your family? Fuck that, they don’t give a shit, same way I don’t give shit. Wanna know how I know this Gemini? Because I’d have done the exact same thing to you.
You’re like…the perfect pawn. You’re so trusting and innocent…well almost the perfect pawn, you’re almost a Natural.
He smiles again.
Joey: A perfect pawn you may be but you’re a fuckin terrible wrestler. Don’t get it twisted; me calling you the best guy in ya squad ain’t a fuckin compliment if anything it’s a good old fashioned sneak diss. You are the slightly less smelly piece of shit in the shower of excrement that is the DRG. Your time has come and your time has gone, you’ll fall to pieces after Blast, Gonzo will blow it, Bates will blow it, Kaz will fuckin decapitate Mikey and then what’s left? That little bit of luck you had in May.
DRG is a fad, a fad based solely around one man’s mountainous hubris and his drive to surround himself with anyone who could challenge him. Mid-Card Madness, when the mountain crumbles it’s coming down on all ya’ll heads, then when Joey Flash is standing amongst the rubble of DRG’s collapse you’ll be able to know as I unzip and piss all over ya ashes that you really never were shit to begin with.
I hope to high hell this is the final time we ever have to meet in a WCF ring Gemini, I wouldn’t wish facing the same fuckin retard on my worst enemy…who just so happens to probably be fuckin you right now and you have to face the fact you’re an ugly pathetic talentless pawn who is being guided by the collar by a bunch of leather wearing faggots.
You Mr Battle are the nightmare I always have to face, that one face I can never banish from my dreams given how many times I’ve had to beat it bloody. I’m going to prove definitely this time the difference in our talent level, you are rock fucking bottom and I’m all the way past the clouds. So high even a Bates Boot couldn’t send ya wack ass there.
I’ve already put you in a bodybag so many times I can’t even count anymore. So let’s just do it like this, Gemini Battle I’m going to end any hopes and aspirations you ever have of being more than mid card clusterfuck fodder in one fell swoop. You’re a mid-tier talent in a mid-tier stable facing a fucking God-tier talent. One wave of my hand, one Lightning Bolt and ya fuckin done.
Be gone from my sight forever ya purple faggot.
Bodybags on deck.
Soul of God(father)
Joseph Flash stood in all his regal glory as he consumed the hot pawridge that gave swell to his energy for the upCUMming day. He spooned the hot messy sludge into his gaping maw with the fervour of a suckling newborn on life’s first teat. It always provided Joey with the sustenance one needed to be such a fuckin boss. “What is best in life?” you ask Conan and that barbarian would scream “Crush your enemies. See them driven before you. Hear the lamentations of their women.” you ask Flash and he tells you “Child, to fuck, fight and bah gawd to fuckin eat good food”.
The bowl of the sludge of life had been ingested as quickly as it had been brought to life by the life giving box and carton that resided in tandem, lovers in duty forever more on Joseph’s kitchen counter. He swept a hand through that famouslinguine sheen of black beauty residing across his skull as he let a chilling cough rattle through his muscular chest.
“Spencer Adams…you call yourself…’The Antidote” Joseph FLASHES a grin of those pure white pearls and runs a serpentine tongue across his soft silken lips. “It has been the first time I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you in the ring, I expect great things, I hear you are an up and CUMmer, well me too Spencer so we can get along just fiiiine. However see I enjoy my prospects fresh, I like them unsullied and unspoiled, I don’t like their…prospects to be tainted before I can get a taste of what they really have in here…” Joseph points to his head, then thumps his chest “and in here. My little Auntie-Dote, little cherub, little beautiful prospect oh how I am preparing for thee, you have me eating my OATS Spence, you have my drinkin that mudafukkin miyalk, it’s good for ya bones see Antidote. Wanna know what ain’t good for ya bones? Being a fuckin retarded lil bastard who SOULed himself out to the very first faggit that came a KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKIN”
This saddened Joseph Flash to tears, if Joseph were want to cry, a river would have been produced from those most manly of tear ducts. “So little Spencer made his debut which he summarily Lost (previously onLost Spencer Adams career: he fuckin sucked) a very inauspicious beginning for the young man, but we still hold out hope when he wins his second contest but oh no look what has happened…it was like watching a car crash in slow motion, I could see Bates lurking in the background like Michael Jackson at a children’s pageant screaming at my Televsion ‘NO SON, DON’T DO IT!’ and what happened next, he approaches and extends that big paw toward you and says ‘You’ve got something, kid!’ or whatever the fuck his gibbering Southern drawl said. But SPENCUH, what did you do, I curse you to this day, this little bastard said the one word that his mother should have said when daddy was begging her to have an abortion, the little guy said ‘Yes’”
“So Spencer, oh you poor boy, you done signed away your life to forever be a worthless faggot with just one single Beta move of being unable to whisper to that hulking beast in front of you ‘No’ you damn near killed your own career right there. Now rather than becoming your own man and forging your own destiny you are doomed to play the part of bit part player in a play of forever lasting faggotry. Why would you in your second week of competition join such a group, I question many things from this Spencer but one thing I don’t question is your heart, that is without question. It is without question the softest piece of blood pumpin flesh I’ve ever witnessed. I’ve seen some pussies in my time but you SPENCUH take the fuckin cake, you take the whole dayum confectionary shop”
“What have you done since Antidote? You’re the antidote for a ‘good career’ and you’ve administered ya damn self. Let’s keep score for just a quick second shall we my man, Spencer Adams currently resides on the lofty perch of two wins and four losses, Joey Flash also resides on the lofty perch of two wins and four losses, OH SNAP this is an even mayutch I cannot believe it…oops” Joey wipes a splodge of that gawddayum pawridge from the notes he was so carefully studying. “Oh shit sorry, got my hopes up for a damn second I’m actually TWENTY TWO and four, oh my Spencer what is this mountain you’ve got to climb? No I don’t mean fuck Bates, but damn for you to be on my level you need to win for like five months without taking a single muddafuckin loss, this shits is crazy you must be losin ya shit right now just thinkin about that Spencer, how truly out ya damn depth ya are, out of ya depth, length and girth, you out of the THICK in all fuckin aspects.”
Joseph booms a commandingly strong chortle from within and continues laying the ever loving smack down on the poor unsuspecting Spencer Adams, which is now by all rights the rotting corpse of Spencer Adams given how brutally he has been bodybagged, the damn toe tag he was sporting that said ‘DEATH BY FLASH SHOOT’ has almost faded he’s been dead so long. “I find it amusing SPENCUH how in the space of a month ya damn mother has gotten more rub and more shine than your wack ass, when selling tickets for ‘Spencer Adams’ pressers and autograph signings you get lots and lots of tickets sold, damn you look so happy. Then when all the revellers turn up, it ain’t for you at all dum dum, you’re like Stiffler from American Pie, people only pretend to come see you when really all they interested in is ya fuckin (fuckin ya) MOMS. Get ya shit straight, bitch has already won more in her career than you have. Shit gotta hurt ya damn soul right now, gotdamn this guy tried to come back as a fuckin zombie and got damn well slayed again straight away.
RIP ZOMBIE MCANTINDOTE.
“You Spencer are a walking bodybag ya silly lil fuck and I’m gonna give you just that shit that you need. You need that GOOD ass whuppin, not that pansy shit ya pops likely did to raise such a little shitstain, not the pansy shit the DRG do for initiation (likely suckin BATES fuckin choad), but that GOOD ass whuppin that turns a boy into a man, turns a bitch into a bitch with a bit of fire inside them, or given your bird chest and ya frail frame likely just cave ya damn body in. You’re a scrub, Antidote, you’re straight up terrible. You killed ya own career the second week into your stint here, so fuck it, maybe I’ll just straight up kill you in the middle of the ring just to make you feel better about life…by like…being dead. Fuck ya later Antidote, bodybagz of course are lined right up across the deck of USS Flash and damn it’s man overboard, cya fucknugget.”
BODYBAGS.EXE
WE’REWELCUM.EXE
BOBBYCAIROEPHITAPH.EXE
Alessandra loved Joey being a wrestler. The first time she had met him they had both been fresh faced teenagers, she was nineteen and sat ringside at an Allegri foundation fundraiser bored out of her skull as her father schmoozed with investors and stakeholders, her brother Paolo has been thoroughly entranced with every bit of action that night jumping up and down at each move and each punch thrown, he was still a child after all. She was all ready to slink off to the bathroom for a drink of vodka from a flask in her purse to perhaps liven the drabness of this drudgery up when she saw him.
She hadn’t even noticed him enter the ring, nor paid any notice during the introductions but at the sound of a resounding crack of bone slamming into bone with such shattering authority made her look toward the ring for the first time in the entire evening. None of the other ‘matches’ had produced a sound like this, there he stood.
The man had long jet black hair flopping down his back and was the exact opposite of the man he had just flattened in the ring. Whereas the downed man, who was bravely struggling to his feet, was large, veins bursting from his skin and his muscles seemed to have muscles of their own this other man with the long hair was built more like an Olympic swimmer or a professional boxer with long lean muscles as if the only reason he ever hit the gym was to hone his craft. She sat up in her chair to watch the rest of this match, what happened over the next three minutes made both her and her younger brother stare on into the ring in stony silence.
The long haired man who she had first thought to be just an ‘athlete’ turned out to be something else entirely, the piercing blue eyes fixed on his opponent and the mesmerizing smile on his face as he toyed with his opponent was like nothing she had seen before. He could have finished the brute at any point but his smile grew wider and wider as he simply…hurt the man. By the time the referee stepped in, the large man had a face full of blood, fluid leaking from his eardrums and a swollen (and likely shattered) orbital bone. Alessandra had jumped up and screamed a shrill ‘NO’ as the referee waved the fight off. Her brother concurred, angry that his favourite wrestler had not been given a chance to continue. It made her laugh, she wasn’t worried about the big bruiser who was being carried off by paramedics, she simply wanted to see more.
In the end this night had been more than worth it, she watched as the man in the ring seemed so nonplussed at his victory. He was sad, she sensed, he was so close to the kill. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she watched the referee approached the long haired man and raised his hand in the air; she had to know his name…
‘Your winner by way of Technical Knockout…Joooooooeeeeeeey Flaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaash!’
As she sat down all of eight years later to watch the man she loved go to work again a smile crossed her face. She had seen him compete hundreds of times, through the highest highs and the lowest lows she had seen him fight in many disciples, in many countries, but this was where he was most at home.
Her fiancée had always been a prize-fighter. She watched with glee as she watched him take Oblivion apart, their son sat beside her as her brother had all those years ago, the same expressive and concentrated look across the boy’s face as he was taking in the atmosphere and watching his father go about his work. To Alessandra this was the equivalent of porn, seeing one person cradle another’s life, health and wellbeing in their very hands and to dangle it in front of their opponent like a cat with some yarn. Each bodyshot, each kick to the head, each submission and each time Oblivion writhed around in agony Alessandra had to bite her lip to stop her moaning in ecstasy. By the time the fight had ended and Joey had predictably been declared the winner of the contest.
Alessandra turned to Christian, feeling a hot flush run up her neck.
Alessandra: That was good wasn’t it? Daddy won.
Christian simply stared at the screen, nonplussed.
Alessandra: What, what’s wrong? He won!
Christian didn’t even make eye contact with Alessandra, the three year old son of Joey Flash and Alessandra Allegri just stared straight ahead.
Christian: Why did it stop?
Alessandra: What honey? Why did what stop?
Christian: Match. I wanted to see him hurt that man more.
Alessandra smiled and kissed her son on the head as she filled with pride.
Alessandra: Me too…me too.
She held the boy tight and couldn’t help letting out a little giggle to herself, he truly was her son.
Split Screen Tango
We open in the same studio that Hank Brown had just interviewed Howard Black in; we see Howard and Joey Flash sat next to each other. We focus on Joey Flash who has his head down and seems deep in thought.
Hank: As promised here we are with the ‘great’ Joey Flash. Now Joey, I know it took a lot of restraint, but thanks for holding your tongue for once.
Joey doesn’t respond.
Hank: Joey?
Still.
Hank: Joooooooooeeeeeey. Hey, Imperium suck, your mother is uglier than Betty Adams. Boooooo.
Still.
Howard makes a gesture of pulling imaginary headphones out of his ears as he looks unamused at his tag team partner for this week before punching him on the arm. Joey immediately looks up and plucks headphones from his ears in a motion identical to the one Howard mimicked seconds earlier.
Joey: What?
Howard: Interview, numb nuts.
Joey looked toward Hank shocked.
Joey: Me already? I was enjoying listening to Howard talk.
Joey smiles and slouches back in his chair.
Joey: Go for it man, let’s actually give these people something entertaining, maybe a sound bite or two to use for the website or some shit. Fuckin Howie over here sounding like an adult from Peanuts, marble mouthed faggot.
Howard: Do you WANT to get your teeth kicked out your mouth?
Joey holds a hand toward Howard.
Joey: In time man in time, for now please hush.
He turns to Hank
Joey: See, how disrespectful these people are nowadays can’t even shut up when someone else is talking.
Hank: Well this is tru-
Joey: How disrespectful. Let’s get this interview poppin.
Hank: Very well! Ahem. With the abrupt retirement of Bobby Cairo, many are questioning the status of Imperium, especially with the rise of the DRG. With the hurdles its faces, can Imperium survive?
Joey: In the space of one month we have lost the two people who headlined One, the two people who held the World Heavyweight Title jointly for the last year in the WCF, two of the greatest wrestlers the federation has ever seen. Any other wrestling faction in the world would be crippled and on its knees right now but Imperium? We’re as strong as ever. When Joey Flash is still around it automatically keeps you as the dominant force in the company, we still have Kaz, ZMAC and Odin? Shit there’s nothing even to think about. Though this Slam is going to be the perfect Epitaph to the Bobfather’s career, we’re going to crush shit.
As far as some of the talk goes about whether we’re looking to add replacements, please, how do you replace Bobby Cairo and Natural ICE Beckman? You don’t. Imperium does not ‘recruit’. The only additions that will ever be made will be if either man steps back into the ring again.
Imperium still stands two members down, and I’m righting the ship right here. We are going absolutely fucking nowhere except full speed straight ahead through anyone who dares step in our way. ZMAC is reborn, Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the company, Odin is…Odin. Nothing more needs to be said.
However the most terrifying thing for you people is going to be something that came as a by-product from the sad retirement of Robert Cairo, you people are going to see something that is going to blow ya fuckin minds. The Monstuh is finally going to be unleashed, enjoy the sins you have wrought ya fuckin punks.
Hank: Last week, Oblivion broke into your home in a controversial segment. While your fiance was reportedly unharmed and able to drive the monster off, do you have any words for other members of the WCF with families or loved ones who may face Oblivion in the future?
Joey laughs
Joey: Jesus I feel for Oblivion, poor guy got his head beat in by Alessandra and then by me back to back. What next Obi, you want to get a fuckin beating from my three year old child as well? Good god. I’ll say this much though, the guy is a straight up fuckin madman. If Al wasn’t Al and was just another woman it could have been something a lot lot worse than it was.
I think people need to be careful, as dangerous as the guy was before he seems to have truly been pushed over the edge from the savage one sided domination I doled out to him last week, if you’re facing him shit, you better make sure you put him down, you better make sure he can’t walk after the match or your family, your friends, ya pet fuckin Chihuahua is in grave danger.
Or shit, at least make sure you’re strapped at home. Thank god for America.
Hank: Your tag partner this week, Howard Black, is facing Thomas Bates at Blast next Sunday. There seems to be no loss of love between yourself or either of these men; what are your thoughts on their upcoming match and the perceived importance of their matches this week?
Joey: Want the politically correct answer or the truth?
Hank: Politically correct.
Joey: They are both great competitors and I’m certain it’ll be a good match of top talent.
Hank: And the truth?
Joey: They both fuckin suck. Thomas Bates is a scrub of the highest order and Howard Black isn’t much better, to be having to drag his wack ass to a win this week is very annoying for me. Shit, Bates is probably gonna fuck things up and lose to Babaddon or whatever the fuck and this whole thing won’t even be worth talking about. But hey, for such bottom feeding talent like these guys I’m sure this match means a great deal to them, it’s their big moment to shine against a person of equal mediocrity. If I had to pick a winner I’ll go with Coward, he’ll be able to absorb a smidge of wrestling blessing from yours truly on Sunday and the simple fact he was on the same side as me for however long I decide to allow the match to go will probably be the boon he needs to carry him over the shitty little finish line and add another terrible belt holder in this federation.
Hank: You seem to see yourself as a main-eventer, calling out members of the WCF such as Dune and Scarecrow. Yet many do not see you as having earned this status in the federation. What are your responses to those people?
Joey: Who are these ‘many’? Fuckin you?
Hank: I’m just asking questions.
Joey: Well, you tell me Hank, am I a main eventer?
Hank: Do you want the politically correct answer or the truth?
Joey: Politically correct.
Hank: Talent wise, Joey Flash is up there with the best the federation has ever seen.
Joey: And the truth?
Hank: Hell to the no! You have main evented like one match your entire career, by sheer definition Joey I’m sorry but you are far from this. Dune is guaranteed main event status almost every time out and Scarecrow is one of the best in the business who is main eventing THIS week.
Joey: …
Hank: What?
Joey: Why does everything you say have to be so pathetically ridiculous? You’ve seen my entire journey Hank, you’ve seen what Joey Flash has been from day one, he was exactly what he said he was from the moment he joined the WCF. Some call me arrogant and conceited, the same type of people that think me lacking of the quality needed to compete at main event level here. What’s important to you people? Accolades? Do you need to have a hunk of metal around your waist as a way to prove your skill in the ring? As far as Joey Flash is concerned, there is only one hunk of metal that matters in this federation and it’s the one I’m going to tear from the cold hands of your ‘main eventer’ Dune.
For someone who has been held down and saboutaged and generally conspired against by the venerable Seth Lerch for his entire career I’m still holding shit down in a way no one else in this federation can touch. So call me what you want, main eventer or not it’s a fuckin position that you’re put in by that scumbag Lerch and has absolutely dick to do with talent, or what you’ve earned. Point in question, I’ve spent the last two weeks asking, begging, nigh on pleading to get the chance to beat Scarecrow’s brains in and yet week after week my demands are ignored in favour of what? Gemini fucking Battle again.
Fuck this shit.
Howie, you better hold up your end of the bargain here or I’m takin your fuckin head after the match is over.
Howard: Worry about yourself.
Both men stand up from their chairs and The Imperious One and The False Prophet stare each other down as the interview fades to black…
Your Journey...
The colour of the world faded in front of his very eyes. Joey felt groggy as he staggered down the corridor; he felt the harsh touch of the rotting wooden walls as he tried to steady himself with a hand. His legs gave way and he careened into the wall, a sense of dread enveloped every fibre of Joey Flash as he heard the laughter again, it had been following him for as long as he could remember. The sound echoed through the dense wood and resonated along the corridor, it was enough to make a snake’s veins pump with icicles. It was as close to a death knell of a deer being mauled to death by a bear as he could ever imagine laughter being.
Joey hyperventilated as the sound got closer. He struggled back to his feet but by now it felt as if his feet were in sludge; each step was a monumental struggle as he could feel the muscle fibres tearing with exertion as his wrenched one leg in front of the other. He had to get away, he had to. The laughter was closer still; it was closing in on him. Joey was walking and walking, it seemed an eternity and he seemed to be going absolutely nowhere. The door at the end of the corridor seemed no closer than it was five minutes ago. He looked to his feet and found them now stuck and he was unable to move, even worse that he felt himself losing equilibrium, he was sinking. Sand.
The sound was on top of him now, Joey looked toward the doorway that was slowly fading from view and found himself covering his ears, anything to make this sound stop, anything, anything. He looked back behind him to see a shrouded figure looking at him as he sank to eternal darkness. This was the source of the laughter, of the fear, of the terror welling up in his stomach right now. The laughter was illuminated by a smiling mouth as the figure knelt down, the cracked white makeup across its face and sickening disfigured smile. The laughing clown laughed one more sickening guttural chuckle.
Figure: You fear me…
Joey Flash sat up in bed with a start. He quickly scanned the room and checked to see if Alessandra was in bed, he nudged her awake. She sleepily opened one eye to see Joey hyperventilating and covered in sweat.
Alessandra: What is it? Another clown dream?
Joey: Yeah, but fuck…
Alessandra: You’ve been having these dreams for months, what is wrong with you; did you watch IT as a child?
She turned onto her haunches and sat up next to him.
Joey: No, I just feel like I’m being fuckin haunted by something.
Alessandra: Haunted?
Joey: Like, something just won’t leave me alone, it doesn’t matter what I do it’s always there in the back of my mind gnawing away and away. Do you understand what I mean?
Alessandra: But…it’s a clown.
Joey: I don’t fuckin know what the fuck, but can you just hug me and stroke my hair.
Alessandra: No.
Joey: What, why?
Alessandra: Remember what Doctor Edwards said? You should write any of these types of dreams down and keep a note of them. It seems a pretty ridiculous idea and I think you’re perfectly fine and normal; everyone gets panic attacks, severe anxiety and chronic depression from time to time.
Joey: Really?
Alessandra: Really sweetie. You’re perfect as you are, but if it helps, write in your silly book.
Joey reached over to the dresser beside the bed and clicked the light on; he fumbled blindly as his eyes adjusted to the light for his little book. He had been keeping track of any particularly vivid dreams over the past couple of months in this small black book entitled ‘Your Journey Into Dreams’ a ‘Joseph Malignaggi tale’ was scribbled shoddily below the official title. He skipped through the book, pausing to look at a few choice dreams.
Dream: In dream I was in prison and repeatedly sexual assaulted and sodomized by a gang of skinheads with massive under bites, they each had sunglasses and a beanie hat on. The leader of the gang seemed to be the most painful of them all though; time and time again he took me. Any which way, it didn’t matter, I was his. He called me his property, his ‘Prince’, confiscated my television from my room, and raped me once more. Please let no one ever read this.
UPDATE – Recurring dream.
UPDATE II – Recurring dream.
What you think it means: I lost to Grime.
Dream: A woman with canker sores covering her face, one leg and a large phallus swinging between its legs claims to be my wife hunts me from town to town. Genuinely scary, feared for life, woke up scared. Think had child by this woman at one point, but it got raped by Oblivion later in same dream. I was pleased in dream.
What you think it means: Read Katherine Phoenix on twitter today.
Dream: Created human centipede, in dream I was doctor. People were successful businessmen I managed to convince to join me for a ‘meal’, they didn’t know what they signed up for and ended up part of twisted sick experiment, I took pleasure in dream, enjoyed as shit was passed from one end to another. I think I killed the two most successful people before the dream ended.
What you think it means: Formed Imperium.
He picked a pen off the side and began to jot his dream down.
Dream: Was chased down corridor by laughter, made me feel faint and scared. Then was trapped in sand as laughter got closer, laughter louder as I sunk in sand then clown appeared and told me I fear it, it wasn’t wrong. Scared in dream.
What you think it means: Fucking kill Gemini Battle.
Joey unleashed barrage after barrage of punches on his weathered heavy bag, as much as Joey tossed and turned, as much as he had his hair stroked he simply couldn’t find himself falling away to sleep. Not for fear, not for anything close, he could feel the adrenalin pumping through him already; with a final almost orgasmic grunt he fired one last kick at the bag.
Joey: Really? Fucking really?
He battles me in the ring, he battles me on the net, he battles me backstage but now the fucker had invaded my dreams. You’re that one thing I can never seem to escape from. You’re like that annoying kid in school who would always try to tag along with you because you were the only person who made the mistake of saying ‘hello’ to them once. You’re the bitch who spam rings ya phone because you got your dick sucked outside a club and stupidly gave her ya digits. You are a bonafide cock-a-roach to my time here in the WCF; you must have nine lives, cos no matter how many times I kill you in that ring motherfucker you just will not die.
Can you not just like…go away or something, I’m more than willing to forget you ever existed, forget all of our matches, if you just kindly fuck the fuck off. You are one of the most annoying motherfuckers in the federation, this is a federation with Katherine Phoenix….aight I’m trippin no fucker is that annoying. But you’re damn close. Shit I think I’m on to it here, my two most often fought opponents in the WCF are…Gemini and fuckin Kathy. SETH! Suck a fat one ya fuckin faggot, if I fight Katherine Phoenix next week I’m legitimately killing you. If I fight Gemini Battle I’m legitimately killing Torture in front of you with Jayson Price’s limp brain dead corpse. That one will really fuckin hurt.
I’ve bodied you so many times I can barely keep count, you can keep count how many times you’ve beaten me just feel ya fuckin ballsack and count, uno. Fuckboy you are the biggest waste of time in the entire federation. Every time Gemini Battle has to hear Joey Flash talk about him it tears a little bit of his soul away from him, I dissect you in a way no one else does Gemini, no one else sees past the paint and the scares to the coward and weakling at the centre. You won Trios, congratulations. How does it feel to be the most talented member of your team and be getting absolutely jack shit for it? A retarded little trinket that means absolutely nothing other than the fact you got lucky a few times in a row, a fuckin blind man could win three blackjack hands in a row. That’s what the DRG did in the Trios Cup, now Gonzo is on his way to being embarrassed by Dune, Bates is gonna get fuckin whitewashed by my faggot of a partner at Blast and you Gemini? Where do you go from here? What’s your next move, while all your other men are getting big shots and massive matches where do you go from here?
Joey sighs
Joey: You’ve been had man, you’ve bent over and presented your rear to Bates and Gonzo, to the DRG as a whole and now they’re running a train on that shit. You’ve been well and truly used and abused. You were someone who was a threat to Thomas Bates, I remember, I remember how close we were to seeing you two clash in one hell of a feud and look what happens you get taken for a shmuck and made to be his little lapdog. He’s more than happy to let yourself be called ‘President’, shit he’ll even fix you a nice little badge saying as much, that’ll keep you happy. You’re so blind and stupid that you don’t even realise that the clown really is the one being laughed at this entire time, you’re a joke.
You’ve been the best wrestler in the DRG for the past month, clearly, no debating. What do you have to show from it? Come on man I’m waiting? They your friends? Your brothers? Your family? Fuck that, they don’t give a shit, same way I don’t give shit. Wanna know how I know this Gemini? Because I’d have done the exact same thing to you.
You’re like…the perfect pawn. You’re so trusting and innocent…well almost the perfect pawn, you’re almost a Natural.
He smiles again.
Joey: A perfect pawn you may be but you’re a fuckin terrible wrestler. Don’t get it twisted; me calling you the best guy in ya squad ain’t a fuckin compliment if anything it’s a good old fashioned sneak diss. You are the slightly less smelly piece of shit in the shower of excrement that is the DRG. Your time has come and your time has gone, you’ll fall to pieces after Blast, Gonzo will blow it, Bates will blow it, Kaz will fuckin decapitate Mikey and then what’s left? That little bit of luck you had in May.
DRG is a fad, a fad based solely around one man’s mountainous hubris and his drive to surround himself with anyone who could challenge him. Mid-Card Madness, when the mountain crumbles it’s coming down on all ya’ll heads, then when Joey Flash is standing amongst the rubble of DRG’s collapse you’ll be able to know as I unzip and piss all over ya ashes that you really never were shit to begin with.
I hope to high hell this is the final time we ever have to meet in a WCF ring Gemini, I wouldn’t wish facing the same fuckin retard on my worst enemy…who just so happens to probably be fuckin you right now and you have to face the fact you’re an ugly pathetic talentless pawn who is being guided by the collar by a bunch of leather wearing faggots.
You Mr Battle are the nightmare I always have to face, that one face I can never banish from my dreams given how many times I’ve had to beat it bloody. I’m going to prove definitely this time the difference in our talent level, you are rock fucking bottom and I’m all the way past the clouds. So high even a Bates Boot couldn’t send ya wack ass there.
I’ve already put you in a bodybag so many times I can’t even count anymore. So let’s just do it like this, Gemini Battle I’m going to end any hopes and aspirations you ever have of being more than mid card clusterfuck fodder in one fell swoop. You’re a mid-tier talent in a mid-tier stable facing a fucking God-tier talent. One wave of my hand, one Lightning Bolt and ya fuckin done.
Be gone from my sight forever ya purple faggot.
Bodybags on deck.
Soul of God(father)
Joseph Flash stood in all his regal glory as he consumed the hot pawridge that gave swell to his energy for the upCUMming day. He spooned the hot messy sludge into his gaping maw with the fervour of a suckling newborn on life’s first teat. It always provided Joey with the sustenance one needed to be such a fuckin boss. “What is best in life?” you ask Conan and that barbarian would scream “Crush your enemies. See them driven before you. Hear the lamentations of their women.” you ask Flash and he tells you “Child, to fuck, fight and bah gawd to fuckin eat good food”.
The bowl of the sludge of life had been ingested as quickly as it had been brought to life by the life giving box and carton that resided in tandem, lovers in duty forever more on Joseph’s kitchen counter. He swept a hand through that famous
“Spencer Adams…you call yourself…’The Antidote” Joseph FLASHES a grin of those pure white pearls and runs a serpentine tongue across his soft silken lips. “It has been the first time I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you in the ring, I expect great things, I hear you are an up and CUMmer, well me too Spencer so we can get along just fiiiine. However see I enjoy my prospects fresh, I like them unsullied and unspoiled, I don’t like their…prospects to be tainted before I can get a taste of what they really have in here…” Joseph points to his head, then thumps his chest “and in here. My little Auntie-Dote, little cherub, little beautiful prospect oh how I am preparing for thee, you have me eating my OATS Spence, you have my drinkin that mudafukkin miyalk, it’s good for ya bones see Antidote. Wanna know what ain’t good for ya bones? Being a fuckin retarded lil bastard who SOULed himself out to the very first faggit that came a KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCKIN”
This saddened Joseph Flash to tears, if Joseph were want to cry, a river would have been produced from those most manly of tear ducts. “So little Spencer made his debut which he summarily Lost (previously on
“So Spencer, oh you poor boy, you done signed away your life to forever be a worthless faggot with just one single Beta move of being unable to whisper to that hulking beast in front of you ‘No’ you damn near killed your own career right there. Now rather than becoming your own man and forging your own destiny you are doomed to play the part of bit part player in a play of forever lasting faggotry. Why would you in your second week of competition join such a group, I question many things from this Spencer but one thing I don’t question is your heart, that is without question. It is without question the softest piece of blood pumpin flesh I’ve ever witnessed. I’ve seen some pussies in my time but you SPENCUH take the fuckin cake, you take the whole dayum confectionary shop”
“What have you done since Antidote? You’re the antidote for a ‘good career’ and you’ve administered ya damn self. Let’s keep score for just a quick second shall we my man, Spencer Adams currently resides on the lofty perch of two wins and four losses, Joey Flash also resides on the lofty perch of two wins and four losses, OH SNAP this is an even mayutch I cannot believe it…oops” Joey wipes a splodge of that gawddayum pawridge from the notes he was so carefully studying. “Oh shit sorry, got my hopes up for a damn second I’m actually TWENTY TWO and four, oh my Spencer what is this mountain you’ve got to climb? No I don’t mean fuck Bates, but damn for you to be on my level you need to win for like five months without taking a single muddafuckin loss, this shits is crazy you must be losin ya shit right now just thinkin about that Spencer, how truly out ya damn depth ya are, out of ya depth, length and girth, you out of the THICK in all fuckin aspects.”
Joseph booms a commandingly strong chortle from within and continues laying the ever loving smack down on the poor unsuspecting Spencer Adams, which is now by all rights the rotting corpse of Spencer Adams given how brutally he has been bodybagged, the damn toe tag he was sporting that said ‘DEATH BY FLASH SHOOT’ has almost faded he’s been dead so long. “I find it amusing SPENCUH how in the space of a month ya damn mother has gotten more rub and more shine than your wack ass, when selling tickets for ‘Spencer Adams’ pressers and autograph signings you get lots and lots of tickets sold, damn you look so happy. Then when all the revellers turn up, it ain’t for you at all dum dum, you’re like Stiffler from American Pie, people only pretend to come see you when really all they interested in is ya fuckin (fuckin ya) MOMS. Get ya shit straight, bitch has already won more in her career than you have. Shit gotta hurt ya damn soul right now, gotdamn this guy tried to come back as a fuckin zombie and got damn well slayed again straight away.
RIP ZOMBIE MCANTINDOTE.
“You Spencer are a walking bodybag ya silly lil fuck and I’m gonna give you just that shit that you need. You need that GOOD ass whuppin, not that pansy shit ya pops likely did to raise such a little shitstain, not the pansy shit the DRG do for initiation (likely suckin BATES fuckin choad), but that GOOD ass whuppin that turns a boy into a man, turns a bitch into a bitch with a bit of fire inside them, or given your bird chest and ya frail frame likely just cave ya damn body in. You’re a scrub, Antidote, you’re straight up terrible. You killed ya own career the second week into your stint here, so fuck it, maybe I’ll just straight up kill you in the middle of the ring just to make you feel better about life…by like…being dead. Fuck ya later Antidote, bodybagz of course are lined right up across the deck of USS Flash and damn it’s man overboard, cya fucknugget.”
BODYBAGS.EXE
WE’REWELCUM.EXE
BOBBYCAIROEPHITAPH.EXE
