Post by Tim on Sept 29, 2012 9:06:49 GMT -5
Ugh. Vanilla? To think, that's the only flavored cake I have in the fridge. Why can't I get good flavors like chocolate, or maybe strawberry. I don't know. Pistachio would be nice. But seriously, vanilla?! Way to start my morning. Well, no time for that. I've gotta catch my train to Philadelphia today. I open my closet to take my clothes and briefcase out. It's gonna be a long trip. I start to fold my clothes neatly and carefully place them to fit the briefcase. It's not long before I put them in. I mean, I'm staying there for three nights, for crying out loud.
I feel like I'm Deadpool in real life. The guy with the mask on and shit? Yeah, that's me. However, unlike him, this mask is a part of me. The mask stays on until the time is right to take it off. There are premonitions that come my way. I don't intend on it to happen forever. I mean, I had a disastrous dream, no, a vision, that one of those motherfuckers from War, is gonna crush me. The good thing is that in reality, they ain't a tall as Godzilla. Well, better be going. I can't afford to be late.
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10 AM. I'm in the cabin, looking outside the window as the train keeps going on. I keep wondering, do I really have what it takes to win this thing? Is winning War going to satisfy me? Will it really help me to accomplish my goal in becoming one of the greats of WCF? Probably. The more I look at my opponents' faces, the bigger the bloodlust grows inside my eyes. Those devil eyes aren't gonna go by itself, if the carnage doesn't seem to start.
The windows may be closed, but as this train enters the tunnel, the black wind starts to howl in my mind. I can hear it, this beautiful symphony starts to enter me. It's like beauty in the eyes of the beholder. Too bad there's no alcohol allowed on trains. As I see the light again, the wind was gone. All I hear is the normal sound of the train moving. It's like reality has come back once again. Come to think about it, that's why everything really sucks.
Suddenly, I hear a knock on the door. Could it possibly be the ticket man?
"Enter."
The door had opened. It was some dude. He has brown hair and eyes, beige cargo pants, grey shirt, glasses and a stubble.
"Joel Hall?"
Maybe he's a fan. I'm not interested in autographs, because I need some rest before the match. But I need to know what his intentions are. If he's a stalker, I won't be pressed charges for being self-defensive.
"What of it?"
"I'm Donald Hale, and I'm a freelance journalist."
Crap. Media people. Just when I was gonna get some peace!
"Look, whatever you're up to, I'm not interested."
"I just need an interview with you--"
"I'm really tired. I need some rest."
But he's standing there, putting out what's supposed to be a puppy face. I think he's failed big time, as that is the most ugliest face I've ever seen. But I can't keep brushing him off. He'll just be coming back. Ugh. Time for the initiative.
"Ask away."
He looks pretty eager when he walked towards me and sat opposite me. He takes out a notepad and starts to write away.
"Are you prepared for War?"
"You wanna fight me?"
He doesn't seem to know that I'm joking when he gave a nervous look. Fuckin' wuss.
"I'm just fuckin' with you. Yes, I'm prepared to put my life on the line at the big battle royal. It's a huge challenge that I have to step up to, dealing with all 32 superstars."
Heh, I lied. They're all easy prey.
"Who do you think would be the first to be eliminated from the match?"
"I'd go with Logan. He's probably the most ridiculous to be eliminated."
A drag queen to win? Hah! My puppy could probably emerge victorious!
"But isn't he "Sarah Twilight"?"
"Don't you refer that shithead with that beautiful angel's name, got that?!"
He quickly nodded like a bobblehead. Eventhough I haven't met the real Sarah Twilight before, she's almost like the girl of my dreams. Just exclude all the witchcraft stuff and I'd be all over her. Then, I would tap that.
"Er...so who do you think would survive until the end?"
"Other than me? Well, I'd say either Jay Price or Corey Black. They seem like worthy competitors that can dominate really well. But I would say Jay Price. He's back from the hard line of injuries."
Well, I would actually pick Corey Black. So that I can humiliate him when he's the last to fall by my hand. That'll teach him not to book me at XII. Jay Price? Too many injuries and he'll end up dead on the cold floor. I can assure him that.
"Well, doesn't really matter that much. Either both of them would wind up in an open casket."
"Interesting. Who do you think would be the easiest to be eliminated?"
"Simple answer. Adam Young."
"That's it?"
"There's nothing else to it. He'll be the target of everyone's massacre. With all the bragging he's done and not one of his cronies in the match..."
I pretended to fire a gun with my hand.
"KA-POW! Headshot on that bitch, baby."
"Well, who do you think will endure the longest?"
"Definitely not Adam Young."
I snickered at that one a bit. Who says that an entity can't laugh?
"But in all seriousness, I'd say either The Polar Phantasm or FPV. They both are great combatants. But there can only be one. And guess who's that?"
"...W-who?"
"ME!"
That shock almost gave him a heart attack. But it was worth it.
"They both may be potential world champions, but I'll come out on top in the end. It'll be the most unexpected thing to WCF history."
Well, I can't let all the top superstars get all the glory, now can't I?
"Well, that's interesting. Who do you think will be the 3 surprise participants in this match?"
"Ugh, that's a tough one..."
No it wasn't. I was too tired to think. Hey, I said four words that start with 'T', in a row!
"I guess I'd pick Gravedigger, Greenfever and..."
Outcast? Nah. He got thrown out like a bum. Skyler Striker? Impossible. He's probably happy somewhere in his new career as a car wash salesman. Bobby Cairo? As much as I think he's awesome, no word of him around the WCF universe.
"...I guess I have to pick Torture."
"Torture? What makes you say that? He hasn't been in competition for a long time. And it looks like he had cut ties with WCF."
"Torture has been a thorn on Jay Price's side. And with a guy like Seth Lerch around, well, he's back to get what he came for."
I don't really give a damn, but I need to use WCF knowledge to sound professional.
"Well, that could be him. It's all over WCF."
"If rumors are false, then I'd predict Steve Carr or Slickie T. Those guys are cool."
I'm not even joking.
"Who would mostly be your primary target for War?"
"That would have to be either Synn or Tek."
"Synn or Tek?"
"Synn, because I wanted to owe him the favor by giving him a hell of a beating. If you remembered on the GEW show, we both got sidelined because of medical problems. I never made contact with him, other than Blast when I crushed him down like a worthless insect. You'd think a guy like him would go far off. Think again. If I've beat him before, I can beat him again. It'll be nostalgia all over again."
The urge to kill him is rising. But I need to control it.
"And Tek? He's been in the way many times, with his shitty entourage all over the place. That dancer mask he wears? It's just a myth like Splatterhouse. Those assholes need to be put in their place. And I'm the guy to do it. That means their Prophecy now is to get their asses kicked by The Iowan Massacre himself."
"One more question. Are you certain that you're going to win this War?"
"Yes."
Stupid question. It's pretty obvious that I'll be the champ of this year's contest. I look outside and see that we have arrived at the train station.
"I hope this goes well on your article, 'cause this'll be the last time you see me in person."
"Thank you very much."
I grabbed my luggage and got out from the cabin. That interview went pretty well. Just that the faggot needs a cooler name and a better attitude.
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I've finally arrived at the arena. Philadelphia doesn't look like a bad place to stay. I've always wondered what it was like to be here. Why couldn't WCF's headquarters be here? Reading is such a shithole, by comparing this city. Anyway, the luggage is back at the hotel, which are the least of my worries. I walk into the arena and look to see the ring. This is where the biggest massacre will take place. Get ready, WCF. Because Joel Hall isn't gonna give mercy when all hell breaks loose.
What am I talking about? Joel Hall isn't here! He's already in hell! It's me, The Iowan Massacre, that's sent him to hell! This will be a start of a new revolution in this very promotion. First is the jobbers. Then, the undercards. Next, the main eventers. After that, the champions. Later on, the hall of famers. And finally, the big boss. Yeah. Seth Lerch. He'll be so mindfucked that he doesn't know that I'll become the top dollar of this company.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh, crap. Just when War is around the corner, casualties would be lost. It's not the others I'm worried about. They can go to hell for that. It's me. My sister would look down on me. So will Edith...To be honest, I can't believe I've made it this far in my career. With all the feuds and major involvements in almost everything, I managed to stay in one piece. Or in this case, two. Well, I can't do anything now. The only option is to see the others burn in hell as my delusional body will cause the roof to crash into abyss. It's like a real-life Deadpool all over again.
I feel like I'm Deadpool in real life. The guy with the mask on and shit? Yeah, that's me. However, unlike him, this mask is a part of me. The mask stays on until the time is right to take it off. There are premonitions that come my way. I don't intend on it to happen forever. I mean, I had a disastrous dream, no, a vision, that one of those motherfuckers from War, is gonna crush me. The good thing is that in reality, they ain't a tall as Godzilla. Well, better be going. I can't afford to be late.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
10 AM. I'm in the cabin, looking outside the window as the train keeps going on. I keep wondering, do I really have what it takes to win this thing? Is winning War going to satisfy me? Will it really help me to accomplish my goal in becoming one of the greats of WCF? Probably. The more I look at my opponents' faces, the bigger the bloodlust grows inside my eyes. Those devil eyes aren't gonna go by itself, if the carnage doesn't seem to start.
The windows may be closed, but as this train enters the tunnel, the black wind starts to howl in my mind. I can hear it, this beautiful symphony starts to enter me. It's like beauty in the eyes of the beholder. Too bad there's no alcohol allowed on trains. As I see the light again, the wind was gone. All I hear is the normal sound of the train moving. It's like reality has come back once again. Come to think about it, that's why everything really sucks.
Suddenly, I hear a knock on the door. Could it possibly be the ticket man?
"Enter."
The door had opened. It was some dude. He has brown hair and eyes, beige cargo pants, grey shirt, glasses and a stubble.
"Joel Hall?"
Maybe he's a fan. I'm not interested in autographs, because I need some rest before the match. But I need to know what his intentions are. If he's a stalker, I won't be pressed charges for being self-defensive.
"What of it?"
"I'm Donald Hale, and I'm a freelance journalist."
Crap. Media people. Just when I was gonna get some peace!
"Look, whatever you're up to, I'm not interested."
"I just need an interview with you--"
"I'm really tired. I need some rest."
But he's standing there, putting out what's supposed to be a puppy face. I think he's failed big time, as that is the most ugliest face I've ever seen. But I can't keep brushing him off. He'll just be coming back. Ugh. Time for the initiative.
"Ask away."
He looks pretty eager when he walked towards me and sat opposite me. He takes out a notepad and starts to write away.
"Are you prepared for War?"
"You wanna fight me?"
He doesn't seem to know that I'm joking when he gave a nervous look. Fuckin' wuss.
"I'm just fuckin' with you. Yes, I'm prepared to put my life on the line at the big battle royal. It's a huge challenge that I have to step up to, dealing with all 32 superstars."
Heh, I lied. They're all easy prey.
"Who do you think would be the first to be eliminated from the match?"
"I'd go with Logan. He's probably the most ridiculous to be eliminated."
A drag queen to win? Hah! My puppy could probably emerge victorious!
"But isn't he "Sarah Twilight"?"
"Don't you refer that shithead with that beautiful angel's name, got that?!"
He quickly nodded like a bobblehead. Eventhough I haven't met the real Sarah Twilight before, she's almost like the girl of my dreams. Just exclude all the witchcraft stuff and I'd be all over her. Then, I would tap that.
"Er...so who do you think would survive until the end?"
"Other than me? Well, I'd say either Jay Price or Corey Black. They seem like worthy competitors that can dominate really well. But I would say Jay Price. He's back from the hard line of injuries."
Well, I would actually pick Corey Black. So that I can humiliate him when he's the last to fall by my hand. That'll teach him not to book me at XII. Jay Price? Too many injuries and he'll end up dead on the cold floor. I can assure him that.
"Well, doesn't really matter that much. Either both of them would wind up in an open casket."
"Interesting. Who do you think would be the easiest to be eliminated?"
"Simple answer. Adam Young."
"That's it?"
"There's nothing else to it. He'll be the target of everyone's massacre. With all the bragging he's done and not one of his cronies in the match..."
I pretended to fire a gun with my hand.
"KA-POW! Headshot on that bitch, baby."
"Well, who do you think will endure the longest?"
"Definitely not Adam Young."
I snickered at that one a bit. Who says that an entity can't laugh?
"But in all seriousness, I'd say either The Polar Phantasm or FPV. They both are great combatants. But there can only be one. And guess who's that?"
"...W-who?"
"ME!"
That shock almost gave him a heart attack. But it was worth it.
"They both may be potential world champions, but I'll come out on top in the end. It'll be the most unexpected thing to WCF history."
Well, I can't let all the top superstars get all the glory, now can't I?
"Well, that's interesting. Who do you think will be the 3 surprise participants in this match?"
"Ugh, that's a tough one..."
No it wasn't. I was too tired to think. Hey, I said four words that start with 'T', in a row!
"I guess I'd pick Gravedigger, Greenfever and..."
Outcast? Nah. He got thrown out like a bum. Skyler Striker? Impossible. He's probably happy somewhere in his new career as a car wash salesman. Bobby Cairo? As much as I think he's awesome, no word of him around the WCF universe.
"...I guess I have to pick Torture."
"Torture? What makes you say that? He hasn't been in competition for a long time. And it looks like he had cut ties with WCF."
"Torture has been a thorn on Jay Price's side. And with a guy like Seth Lerch around, well, he's back to get what he came for."
I don't really give a damn, but I need to use WCF knowledge to sound professional.
"Well, that could be him. It's all over WCF."
"If rumors are false, then I'd predict Steve Carr or Slickie T. Those guys are cool."
I'm not even joking.
"Who would mostly be your primary target for War?"
"That would have to be either Synn or Tek."
"Synn or Tek?"
"Synn, because I wanted to owe him the favor by giving him a hell of a beating. If you remembered on the GEW show, we both got sidelined because of medical problems. I never made contact with him, other than Blast when I crushed him down like a worthless insect. You'd think a guy like him would go far off. Think again. If I've beat him before, I can beat him again. It'll be nostalgia all over again."
The urge to kill him is rising. But I need to control it.
"And Tek? He's been in the way many times, with his shitty entourage all over the place. That dancer mask he wears? It's just a myth like Splatterhouse. Those assholes need to be put in their place. And I'm the guy to do it. That means their Prophecy now is to get their asses kicked by The Iowan Massacre himself."
"One more question. Are you certain that you're going to win this War?"
"Yes."
Stupid question. It's pretty obvious that I'll be the champ of this year's contest. I look outside and see that we have arrived at the train station.
"I hope this goes well on your article, 'cause this'll be the last time you see me in person."
"Thank you very much."
I grabbed my luggage and got out from the cabin. That interview went pretty well. Just that the faggot needs a cooler name and a better attitude.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've finally arrived at the arena. Philadelphia doesn't look like a bad place to stay. I've always wondered what it was like to be here. Why couldn't WCF's headquarters be here? Reading is such a shithole, by comparing this city. Anyway, the luggage is back at the hotel, which are the least of my worries. I walk into the arena and look to see the ring. This is where the biggest massacre will take place. Get ready, WCF. Because Joel Hall isn't gonna give mercy when all hell breaks loose.
What am I talking about? Joel Hall isn't here! He's already in hell! It's me, The Iowan Massacre, that's sent him to hell! This will be a start of a new revolution in this very promotion. First is the jobbers. Then, the undercards. Next, the main eventers. After that, the champions. Later on, the hall of famers. And finally, the big boss. Yeah. Seth Lerch. He'll be so mindfucked that he doesn't know that I'll become the top dollar of this company.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh, crap. Just when War is around the corner, casualties would be lost. It's not the others I'm worried about. They can go to hell for that. It's me. My sister would look down on me. So will Edith...To be honest, I can't believe I've made it this far in my career. With all the feuds and major involvements in almost everything, I managed to stay in one piece. Or in this case, two. Well, I can't do anything now. The only option is to see the others burn in hell as my delusional body will cause the roof to crash into abyss. It's like a real-life Deadpool all over again.
