Post by tommykain on Sept 13, 2012 22:46:31 GMT -5
In a remote location, probably just about forty one or forty two thousand leagues under the sea two evil masterminds sat at a marble table. Each of them were currently enjoying an iced Coffee from Starbucks.
Because as everybody knows, Starbucks has and will always be one of the world's biggest sponsors of everything evil.
But that is besides the point.
In an under Sea lair GOAT and Pierre sat and sipped their chilled, caffeinated treats. But something seemed amiss. There was a tension in the room. Either individual refused to make eye contact for longer than a few seconds at a time. For what seemed like an eternity it was just...
Sip, slurp, silence
Sip, slurp, silence
Finally the warlord with one eye from the Land of Dubai broke the silence.
Old friend, Sire, we cannot wait any longer. It is time to use the catalyst in the way we have always intended. He will never be more ready than he is right now. I fear if we wait much longer we will lose our hold on him. Did you not see the way he threw himself in harm's way in his last contest. He all but sacrificed himself body and soul to save that, that, that wreteched wench of his.
BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I apologize my friend, Ophelia is not just a common wench...
Wait, forgive me, I can keep up this facade no longer dearest compatriot.
These, these, Misfits you have forced us to cohabitate with are pathetic. They are lazy, obscene, foul, and most of all completely asinine. But yet we force ourselves to treat them as equals. To show them some sort of courtesy like they were even fit to clean our boots with their foul and infernal tongues.
Now I agreed to help you infiltrate them in order to help us manipulate the catalyst. But Tommy Kain is ready to be harvested, he has been for quite some time, but yet you hesitate. You travel to get "mani's and pedi's" with that harlot Miss Pain.
You partake in the smoking of narcotics with that blue haired peasant.
You go on "Burger Runs" with that beareded Oaf, Pugh.
And worst of all you view illicitly pornographic material featuring women with male genitalia with that rotund miscrean, Kief.
And I ask you, as I sit before you...Why?
Why have you seemingly forsaken a destiny that has been decades in the making?
BAHHHHHH.....Wait, you've asked a fair question and you deserve an answer in the language of an old friend.
Yep, pick your damn jaw up off the floor. What, did you really think that an Evil GOAT, capable of plotting Global domination couldn't actually speak English? Really good English. English that sounds like a cross between Sean Connery and a vague idea of what God might sound like. It's a soft tone, but it makes you take notice, and you can actually hear the gamut of emotions that run through every syllable.
I will first respond to your query with an inquiry of my own dear Pierre.
Why does a man want to rule everything?
WE rule because we deserve to rule. We are their betters, we are the top of the food chain. Its simple evolution. We are the strongest so we shall survive.
And what of the rest of the world dear friend? What of those who you feel don't deserve to rule beside us. What would you have them do.
Submit of course. Bow to us. Worship us as living God's or perish in the flames of their own blasphemy.
And what if one day a new conqueror would come to pass. One who surpassed us in each and every way? Then what should become of us?
The look on Pierre's face told the whole story. He didn't like where this conversation was heading and worse than that, he hated when GOAT began using logic. Pierre knew GOAT had sat down and shared knowledge with some of the great philosophers of our age.
The Dali Lama
Bertrand Russel
Jean-Paul Sartre
even Cee-Lo Green.
But Pierre also knew that he had opened the flood gates and once GOAT started he wasn't going to stop until he proved his point.
Your question doesn't explain why we shouldn't have our time. We've worked so hard, we've come so far. I remember a time when you wanted to stand atop the world just as much as I.
Pierre, do you remember when your desire to rule the world began?
Because I do.
I remember many, many years ago, I was walking through a field, snacking on some new mown hay. I was in the middle of contemplating leaving a present full of newly made defecation on a rather abusive farmer's front stoop as my attention was aroused by a group of young boys playing in a clearing.
As I moved in further I saw that four children were being awfully cruel to a smaller boy. Pierre the Pissy Pirate they were chanting over and over again. As I looked even closer I was able to see that the small boy wearing a black patch over his right eye, had appeared to urinate in his trousers. Much to the small child's credit he had tried to fight, he had tried to stand up for himself. A great feat considering the numbers he was facing and his small stature.
But it was to no avail, the boys beat him bloody. They cursed him and the mother who bore him. A lovely woman who I later learned had died in childbirth.
After the boys had finished their assault and were tired of kicking around the lifeless body. I made my way to the boy and I remember vividly the first thing he said.
One day I will rule them all, and I will bathe in the blood of all who would speak my name with anything but reverance.
A small tear could be seen building up in the left eye of the little man. Perhaps the scars were still too fresh. Perhaps the mention of his mother too much to bear. Either way, GOAT continued.
Such hate, such angst for such a small child. Not to mention an outstanding vocabulary. But I saw much more than that. I saw an accomplice. I saw someone who would be willing to do anything if I could promise him the power he craved.
So I must confess that the state you find yourself in right now is mostly if not entirely all my doing. And for that I must deeply and sincerely apologize. I harvested your hate dear Pierre. I used it to attempt to attain the things I believed I wanted in life. To not just be a mere talking GOAT. To not just be some side show attraction, working for wrinkled up money, and scraps of garbage that even the poorest of peasants would wretch upon.
But some time ago Pierre I realized something.
Our goals were the dreams of fools. For man and beast were never meant to be ruled over. We were meant to do the most good with the powers bestowed upon us. And these cretins, these miscreants as you call them. Greater beings we have never known.
These Misfits don't spend their days ridiculing the differences of others. Instead they embrace them. They are not afraid to walk their own paths. They realize that freedom is a path seldom traveled by the multitudes. They stand for a set of ideals that could have saved souls like ours from years of hatred and angst.
I don't wish to rule them Pierre.
I don't wish to rule anyone.
I have become one of them and they welcomed us with open arms. I've never been more at peace.
So this is what you wish? To live the life of commoners? To discard all of our plans? To pretend that years of trial and tribulation mean nothing?
Yes. Indeed I do. And I wish you would too.
NEVER! I REFUSE TO LOWER MYSELF TO ACTUALLY JOINING THESE...THESE...,MISFITS! I AM A KING, I WILL BE HAILED AS A KING! YOU WILL ALL BOW TO ME! IF YOU WILL NOT JOIN ME GOAT THEN YOU SHALL KNEEL AS WELL!
You know that the paths we choose may lead us to an inevitable conclusion.
I am not afraid of my destiny, even if you have abandoned yours.
Well then I see I cannot convince you otherwise, So I will bid you a fond farewell. And once again dear boy, I am so sorry.
Your apologies ring hollow in my ears GOAT, now leave my sight. You are no longer welcome here you MISFIT!
And with that GOAT entered a large, glass elevator. The pair locked eyes one more time as the door closed. Each eyes shedding their own tears.
Now with all that said you're probably wondering, "Where in the holy hell is Tommy Kain in all this. That sumbitch has got a match for the Televison title this week and he ain't said a damn thing. Well hold tight and don't get your thong in a twist. Because Good ol' TK is here in front of a WCF backdrop. He is sitting on the floor with his back up against the wall just giving the camera a long, slow look before finally uttering some words.
GEW, Shoot To Thrill, New Orleans Louisiana. It's got a helluva ring to it don't it? Now granted it doesn't have quite as sweet of a ring as...
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR NEW TELEVISION CHAMPION, TOMMMMMMMYYYYYY KAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNNN!
But still it ain't too shabby.
You see ol' Kid P and his people have thrown together quite the shindig. It should really be a wonderful party, he's invited the finest of people. But that ain't what I wanna talk to you people about right now.
I don't wanna talk to you about Super Heroes.
I don't wanna talk to you about hijinks and shenanigans.
Instead, I wanna talk about the people of Lousiana and the fans of the GEW.
Because you see I respect the hell out of those people. People who have had their asses handed to them time and time and time and time again. But they don't bitch, they don't moan, they get up off their asses and they make a go of it. They struggle, they scrape, they scratch, and they claw just to get by. But they do it with a GOT DAMNED smile on their faces. And I respect the hell out of that. To be real, I draw inspiration from things like that. Its the way I have tried to live my life.
Now sure, sure its cliche' but I the people of GEW prove time and time again that it ain't if you get knocked down, its if you got the clackers to get the hell back up.
Now I would never stand here and tell you people that I've been through a fraction of what the good people of New Orleans have been through. But the past few months good ol' TK has taken his lumps. And I'll be honest, there have been many a night, sitting in that locker room with nothing but my thoughts and maybe an ice cold brew, I thought about just packing it in. Just walking away from this damn sport.
But I couldn't do it.
I couldn't do it for the same reason the GEW couldn't pack it in, the same reason their fans keep coming back.
Its all we know.
We don't know any other way.
And that is the EXACT reason I don't think Kale Windsor or Eric Price have a chance in hell of walking out of the Big Easy with that Televison title.
Because what you have in those two men, besides enough Douche to clean out A Grand Canyon Va Jay Jay is two dudes that have never fought or struggled for anything in their entire lives.
Now I ain't gonna come out here and sing the same song that everybody sings when they face these two Trust Fund Tickle Fighters. I'm not just gonna call them 9021 hoes or Richie Rich's or any of that crap. Because honestly they don't deserve any of my silver tongued humor.
Instead I'm just gonna explain a real simple truth.
Easy Come, Easy Go.
Simply put, when you don't work for things. When they are just handed to you, its not that hard to let them go. Even if you think you don't want to.
So lemme ask you point blank Eric. How much does that TV title mean to you? What are you willing to do to keep that belt? More importantly, how much are you willing to take. Because in the back of your mind you realize that even if you lose, you'll still have those big houses, those fancy cars, and that fat bank account. So if you ask me, I think in your case, when the going gets too tough, you're gonna fold. When you look out into the crowd and see that you are surrounded by people who you've spent your life looking down on. People who hate everything you stand for. You're gonna quit. Because I don't think you have it in you.
I don't think you have an ounce of fight.
I'm playing your bitch card right here Price. I think you are a coward and a punk and I don't think you have enough stones to prove me wrong. That's why you ain't walking out with that TV title this week.
But lest I forget the third wheel in this match. Eric Price Junior, better known as Kale Windsor.
You see Kale, pretty much everything I just said about Eric Price goes absolutely, positively double for you. If Price is a bitch, you are a whole barrel full of bitches. And If I'm throwing out Eric Price's bitch card, I'm throwing a whole deck at you.
Because I gotta tell you, I've never, ever, ever in my life seen a dude more overhyped, overrated, and undertalented in my whole damn life.
I mean every week I hear from some talking head how Kale Windsor is this great talent. How he is creeping on some kind of grand come up. So sure I tune in. I sit back in the locker room, I watch the monitor and I see the same damn thing each and every time.
Either its Kale Windsor beating a dude who couldn't get a win against blind dude in a coloring contest.
or
Kale Windsor is losing again and again and again to dudes who are leaps and bounds out of his league.
Because Kale has the same problem Eric does.
He doesn't know how to fight. Everything in his world has been handed to him by Mommy and Daddy Warbucks. So when he faces real struggle, real strife, he wilts and blows away like a leaf in the Winter.
So why o why would we expect him to do anything else this week? Especially when he already lost to Eric Price handily just a few days ago. Especially in front of rabid, blood thirsty, die hards like the GEW faithful. You see I've fought in front of these people and they are a certified, GOT DAMNED, stark raving mad, MOB!
Just the way I like them.
The last time I was there me and Phantasm damn near killed each other and they loved every minute of it. But when it was done and over. When the last drop of blood had dried up they reached out to me and I reached out to them and we thanked each other.
They thanked me for giving my blood, my sweat, and my soul to entertain them, to give them their money's worth.
And I thanked them because on that night they reminded me why I walked into that gym all those years ago and handed that old, grizzled trainer wearing the stained singlet a check for three hundred bucks and said...
I wanna be a professional wrestler.
Because as everybody knows, Starbucks has and will always be one of the world's biggest sponsors of everything evil.
But that is besides the point.
In an under Sea lair GOAT and Pierre sat and sipped their chilled, caffeinated treats. But something seemed amiss. There was a tension in the room. Either individual refused to make eye contact for longer than a few seconds at a time. For what seemed like an eternity it was just...
Sip, slurp, silence
Sip, slurp, silence
Finally the warlord with one eye from the Land of Dubai broke the silence.
Old friend, Sire, we cannot wait any longer. It is time to use the catalyst in the way we have always intended. He will never be more ready than he is right now. I fear if we wait much longer we will lose our hold on him. Did you not see the way he threw himself in harm's way in his last contest. He all but sacrificed himself body and soul to save that, that, that wreteched wench of his.
BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
I apologize my friend, Ophelia is not just a common wench...
Wait, forgive me, I can keep up this facade no longer dearest compatriot.
These, these, Misfits you have forced us to cohabitate with are pathetic. They are lazy, obscene, foul, and most of all completely asinine. But yet we force ourselves to treat them as equals. To show them some sort of courtesy like they were even fit to clean our boots with their foul and infernal tongues.
Now I agreed to help you infiltrate them in order to help us manipulate the catalyst. But Tommy Kain is ready to be harvested, he has been for quite some time, but yet you hesitate. You travel to get "mani's and pedi's" with that harlot Miss Pain.
You partake in the smoking of narcotics with that blue haired peasant.
You go on "Burger Runs" with that beareded Oaf, Pugh.
And worst of all you view illicitly pornographic material featuring women with male genitalia with that rotund miscrean, Kief.
And I ask you, as I sit before you...Why?
Why have you seemingly forsaken a destiny that has been decades in the making?
BAHHHHHH.....Wait, you've asked a fair question and you deserve an answer in the language of an old friend.
Yep, pick your damn jaw up off the floor. What, did you really think that an Evil GOAT, capable of plotting Global domination couldn't actually speak English? Really good English. English that sounds like a cross between Sean Connery and a vague idea of what God might sound like. It's a soft tone, but it makes you take notice, and you can actually hear the gamut of emotions that run through every syllable.
I will first respond to your query with an inquiry of my own dear Pierre.
Why does a man want to rule everything?
WE rule because we deserve to rule. We are their betters, we are the top of the food chain. Its simple evolution. We are the strongest so we shall survive.
And what of the rest of the world dear friend? What of those who you feel don't deserve to rule beside us. What would you have them do.
Submit of course. Bow to us. Worship us as living God's or perish in the flames of their own blasphemy.
And what if one day a new conqueror would come to pass. One who surpassed us in each and every way? Then what should become of us?
The look on Pierre's face told the whole story. He didn't like where this conversation was heading and worse than that, he hated when GOAT began using logic. Pierre knew GOAT had sat down and shared knowledge with some of the great philosophers of our age.
The Dali Lama
Bertrand Russel
Jean-Paul Sartre
even Cee-Lo Green.
But Pierre also knew that he had opened the flood gates and once GOAT started he wasn't going to stop until he proved his point.
Your question doesn't explain why we shouldn't have our time. We've worked so hard, we've come so far. I remember a time when you wanted to stand atop the world just as much as I.
Pierre, do you remember when your desire to rule the world began?
Because I do.
I remember many, many years ago, I was walking through a field, snacking on some new mown hay. I was in the middle of contemplating leaving a present full of newly made defecation on a rather abusive farmer's front stoop as my attention was aroused by a group of young boys playing in a clearing.
As I moved in further I saw that four children were being awfully cruel to a smaller boy. Pierre the Pissy Pirate they were chanting over and over again. As I looked even closer I was able to see that the small boy wearing a black patch over his right eye, had appeared to urinate in his trousers. Much to the small child's credit he had tried to fight, he had tried to stand up for himself. A great feat considering the numbers he was facing and his small stature.
But it was to no avail, the boys beat him bloody. They cursed him and the mother who bore him. A lovely woman who I later learned had died in childbirth.
After the boys had finished their assault and were tired of kicking around the lifeless body. I made my way to the boy and I remember vividly the first thing he said.
One day I will rule them all, and I will bathe in the blood of all who would speak my name with anything but reverance.
A small tear could be seen building up in the left eye of the little man. Perhaps the scars were still too fresh. Perhaps the mention of his mother too much to bear. Either way, GOAT continued.
Such hate, such angst for such a small child. Not to mention an outstanding vocabulary. But I saw much more than that. I saw an accomplice. I saw someone who would be willing to do anything if I could promise him the power he craved.
So I must confess that the state you find yourself in right now is mostly if not entirely all my doing. And for that I must deeply and sincerely apologize. I harvested your hate dear Pierre. I used it to attempt to attain the things I believed I wanted in life. To not just be a mere talking GOAT. To not just be some side show attraction, working for wrinkled up money, and scraps of garbage that even the poorest of peasants would wretch upon.
But some time ago Pierre I realized something.
Our goals were the dreams of fools. For man and beast were never meant to be ruled over. We were meant to do the most good with the powers bestowed upon us. And these cretins, these miscreants as you call them. Greater beings we have never known.
These Misfits don't spend their days ridiculing the differences of others. Instead they embrace them. They are not afraid to walk their own paths. They realize that freedom is a path seldom traveled by the multitudes. They stand for a set of ideals that could have saved souls like ours from years of hatred and angst.
I don't wish to rule them Pierre.
I don't wish to rule anyone.
I have become one of them and they welcomed us with open arms. I've never been more at peace.
So this is what you wish? To live the life of commoners? To discard all of our plans? To pretend that years of trial and tribulation mean nothing?
Yes. Indeed I do. And I wish you would too.
NEVER! I REFUSE TO LOWER MYSELF TO ACTUALLY JOINING THESE...THESE...,MISFITS! I AM A KING, I WILL BE HAILED AS A KING! YOU WILL ALL BOW TO ME! IF YOU WILL NOT JOIN ME GOAT THEN YOU SHALL KNEEL AS WELL!
You know that the paths we choose may lead us to an inevitable conclusion.
I am not afraid of my destiny, even if you have abandoned yours.
Well then I see I cannot convince you otherwise, So I will bid you a fond farewell. And once again dear boy, I am so sorry.
Your apologies ring hollow in my ears GOAT, now leave my sight. You are no longer welcome here you MISFIT!
And with that GOAT entered a large, glass elevator. The pair locked eyes one more time as the door closed. Each eyes shedding their own tears.
Now with all that said you're probably wondering, "Where in the holy hell is Tommy Kain in all this. That sumbitch has got a match for the Televison title this week and he ain't said a damn thing. Well hold tight and don't get your thong in a twist. Because Good ol' TK is here in front of a WCF backdrop. He is sitting on the floor with his back up against the wall just giving the camera a long, slow look before finally uttering some words.
GEW, Shoot To Thrill, New Orleans Louisiana. It's got a helluva ring to it don't it? Now granted it doesn't have quite as sweet of a ring as...
LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, YOUR NEW TELEVISION CHAMPION, TOMMMMMMMYYYYYY KAAAAAIIIIINNNNNNNN!
But still it ain't too shabby.
You see ol' Kid P and his people have thrown together quite the shindig. It should really be a wonderful party, he's invited the finest of people. But that ain't what I wanna talk to you people about right now.
I don't wanna talk to you about Super Heroes.
I don't wanna talk to you about hijinks and shenanigans.
Instead, I wanna talk about the people of Lousiana and the fans of the GEW.
Because you see I respect the hell out of those people. People who have had their asses handed to them time and time and time and time again. But they don't bitch, they don't moan, they get up off their asses and they make a go of it. They struggle, they scrape, they scratch, and they claw just to get by. But they do it with a GOT DAMNED smile on their faces. And I respect the hell out of that. To be real, I draw inspiration from things like that. Its the way I have tried to live my life.
Now sure, sure its cliche' but I the people of GEW prove time and time again that it ain't if you get knocked down, its if you got the clackers to get the hell back up.
Now I would never stand here and tell you people that I've been through a fraction of what the good people of New Orleans have been through. But the past few months good ol' TK has taken his lumps. And I'll be honest, there have been many a night, sitting in that locker room with nothing but my thoughts and maybe an ice cold brew, I thought about just packing it in. Just walking away from this damn sport.
But I couldn't do it.
I couldn't do it for the same reason the GEW couldn't pack it in, the same reason their fans keep coming back.
Its all we know.
We don't know any other way.
And that is the EXACT reason I don't think Kale Windsor or Eric Price have a chance in hell of walking out of the Big Easy with that Televison title.
Because what you have in those two men, besides enough Douche to clean out A Grand Canyon Va Jay Jay is two dudes that have never fought or struggled for anything in their entire lives.
Now I ain't gonna come out here and sing the same song that everybody sings when they face these two Trust Fund Tickle Fighters. I'm not just gonna call them 9021 hoes or Richie Rich's or any of that crap. Because honestly they don't deserve any of my silver tongued humor.
Instead I'm just gonna explain a real simple truth.
Easy Come, Easy Go.
Simply put, when you don't work for things. When they are just handed to you, its not that hard to let them go. Even if you think you don't want to.
So lemme ask you point blank Eric. How much does that TV title mean to you? What are you willing to do to keep that belt? More importantly, how much are you willing to take. Because in the back of your mind you realize that even if you lose, you'll still have those big houses, those fancy cars, and that fat bank account. So if you ask me, I think in your case, when the going gets too tough, you're gonna fold. When you look out into the crowd and see that you are surrounded by people who you've spent your life looking down on. People who hate everything you stand for. You're gonna quit. Because I don't think you have it in you.
I don't think you have an ounce of fight.
I'm playing your bitch card right here Price. I think you are a coward and a punk and I don't think you have enough stones to prove me wrong. That's why you ain't walking out with that TV title this week.
But lest I forget the third wheel in this match. Eric Price Junior, better known as Kale Windsor.
You see Kale, pretty much everything I just said about Eric Price goes absolutely, positively double for you. If Price is a bitch, you are a whole barrel full of bitches. And If I'm throwing out Eric Price's bitch card, I'm throwing a whole deck at you.
Because I gotta tell you, I've never, ever, ever in my life seen a dude more overhyped, overrated, and undertalented in my whole damn life.
I mean every week I hear from some talking head how Kale Windsor is this great talent. How he is creeping on some kind of grand come up. So sure I tune in. I sit back in the locker room, I watch the monitor and I see the same damn thing each and every time.
Either its Kale Windsor beating a dude who couldn't get a win against blind dude in a coloring contest.
or
Kale Windsor is losing again and again and again to dudes who are leaps and bounds out of his league.
Because Kale has the same problem Eric does.
He doesn't know how to fight. Everything in his world has been handed to him by Mommy and Daddy Warbucks. So when he faces real struggle, real strife, he wilts and blows away like a leaf in the Winter.
So why o why would we expect him to do anything else this week? Especially when he already lost to Eric Price handily just a few days ago. Especially in front of rabid, blood thirsty, die hards like the GEW faithful. You see I've fought in front of these people and they are a certified, GOT DAMNED, stark raving mad, MOB!
Just the way I like them.
The last time I was there me and Phantasm damn near killed each other and they loved every minute of it. But when it was done and over. When the last drop of blood had dried up they reached out to me and I reached out to them and we thanked each other.
They thanked me for giving my blood, my sweat, and my soul to entertain them, to give them their money's worth.
And I thanked them because on that night they reminded me why I walked into that gym all those years ago and handed that old, grizzled trainer wearing the stained singlet a check for three hundred bucks and said...
I wanna be a professional wrestler.
