Post by Bobby Cairo on Jan 1, 2016 17:17:36 GMT -5
"Rottenness and Evil (The Devil in Disguise)"
"And I suppose that it came as a surprise once it dawned upon the Dub Sea Eff Loyal that the Fadduh of Gawd was, in fact, the Devil in Disguise. Robert Hercules Cairo was a murderer- or so it would seem. But perhaps their bemusement was belied by their outright and abject ignorance? And if ignorance were supposedly bliss, well there was hardly any of that to be found in Los Angeles. The Loyal, my children, they saw the viciousness in me when I booted ZMAC off-a that choppuh, when I parachuted down to the roof of the arena, and when I pinned his lifeless corpse to capture this-THIS crowning jewel that until ONE had been conspicuously absent from my trophy case."
Cairo's gluttonous Semitic veneer beamed brighter than a thousand suns as he reclined in his Blood Red Throne of Skulls. The HorrorGORE Murdercrown was strapped around his buoyant thick, of which was being suckled by a horde of Blackarican whores. This was your Hardcore Champion. That was what Jew wanted- yes, his children? Now you must learn to live with the consequences of your choices.
"I showed absolutely no reGAHD for human life when I did what I did to ZMAC. I murked the unmurkable. I killed the Immortal. I bodied Evil Incarnate. And, oh, the irony was that they didn't think that I had it in me. Ignorance, my children, my Loyal... ignorance. 'Well, Cairo's a great technician, a true ring general,' you all have said. 'And he can throw down with the best of them. But ZMAC? That coked up muddafukk's on another level. Nobody can touch that crazy mofo in a hardcore environment. He's the man who pinned Torture to end his Hardcore Champ-YUM-Ship reign, Bah Gawdfadduh!'"
Cairo flashed that fuck-you-smile. He gleefully bared the rottenness and evil from within his Jew soul. Bobby's tongue peaked out from that gullet of his and slithered about his lips. Oh yes, The Gawdbobbuh's tongue game was on point, as all of those virgin Blackarican whores would tell you- but what was the price that they would pay for such opulent fare? Perhaps they should look toward Cairo's vanquished foes for the answers.
"And so I did what none believed possible-- I beat the great anti-hero Zombie McMorris at his own game. And now he's a fractured shell of a once brave warrior, a skeleton with brittle bones, too weak to stand and fight the good fight. A father, like his son, murdered at the hands of Robert Cairo... if in spirit not in body. Oh but that was the Godfather's part two- or didn't you hear? You saw me murk ZMAC for all intents and purposes. But what you didn't see, what you never wanted to believe?"
Cairo closed his eyes and bowed his head in a moment of silent prayer to his Lord and Savior Jam Willy Jesus. The words lifted from his lips to Jesus' ears and it seemed as though The Godfather was caught in a kind of transcendental moshpit- before he nutted so hard that he crushed that poor Blackarican girl's skull with the force of his goo. The other dozen or so V-whores scattered in a frenzied bout of terror, leaving their fallen comrade behind to toil at the foot of The Godfather's unholy throne.
When Cairo finally opened his eyes, his Semitic sapphires burned a hole through your soul. You were suddenly jealous of that murked virginal hoebag. At least her suffering was over and done with; yours was merely beginning.
"Oh yes, I was the man who pushed Scarecrow off-a the rafters on that fateful August night in Madison Square Garden. I was the man who murdered one of WCF's truly best and brightest young stars. A Murder of Crows? Indeed, my children. Indeed, it twas. Why? Well, sometimes, you just have to do what you think is right, even when everyone else considers it wrong. Now that's true morality, my children. Plain and simple morality. I could see Scarecrow for precisely what he was, for precisely what everyone else turned a blind eye towards. The man was a scourge. The man was a festering parasite. The man was a boil on WCF's arse. Meddling in Poon Guinean affairs? HOW DARE HE!"
The Godfather rose from his ominous, glowering throne in a furor. His cloven hoof decimated what was left of the deceased whore's pooncranium, grinding it into a fine powder.
"HOW DARE YOU, MY CHILDREN! You praised him! You worshiped him as a demigod, nearly on the level of yours truly! You accepted him as if he were one of our own- but the seed of Zombie McMorris shall never be accepted as one of my progeny!"
The Godfather scowled. He summoned the hatefires from deep within the pit of his stomach and he hocked a flamin', stankin' loogie right onto the dead whore's demolished facade. Cairo shook his head with disgust. A look of near-pity lamered across his crestfallen mug, as if he were contemplating the depth of his public's betrayal and framing the appropriate response for such heresy.
"For shame, my children. For shame, indeed. You worshiped this fool who was lower than the dirt beneath my cloven hooves, and you expect forgiveness from a Gawd-Fadduh? You expect me to just turn back the clock and pretend this whole shameful affair never transpired? Who the hell do you think you are? I am not like the previous deities that you may have encountered from the point of your conception. I do not require your constant praise to remain vital, to remain omnipresent.
"I mock such inadequacies. This is why I am not God. I am the Father of God. I am the Father of All that you Worship and Praise and Love... and hold dear. And yes, I can be as loving and graceful and merciful as I please, but when I encounter belligerence the extent of which you- ALL OF YOU have displayed? Oh, I become a very VERY vengeful Godfather. You have only begun to witness the consequences of your choices, MY CHIL-DRUN, my embarrassments.
"I murked The Murder Machine, and no amount of mind games from the peanut gallery can change that fact. Scarecrow is dead and buried- six feet under and rotting in Hell, never to return to this plentiful land of poon and bounty. In fact, I have word that Scarecrow is polishing Satan's codpiece as I speak. Now ain't dat a muddafukka? Now maybe some of you will appreciate my actions, the more enlightened members of The Godfather's congregation. I am sure that my beached whale of a SON Wade Moor has no objections to the fact that I did what he was not man enough to do.
"And hey, if you were one of the three people who bought a Factory Black t-shirt back in the day, I'm sure that the value of them shits got bumped up to a whole dollah-fitty on the night that The Godfather snipped The Scarecrow's wings and sent him plummeting to certain death."
UR_WELLCUM.exe
"Indeed, you're welcome. You're welcome, my children. You're welcome, Wade Moor. But lest you think that The Godfather's work is done? Allow me to reiterate: I have only begun to wage WAR upon the Dub-Sea-Eff rostuh! I am your HorrorGORE Champ-YUM! I will crush all who stand in my path, week after week after week... weak after weak after weak. This week I am facing a dear, dear friend of the late Zombie McMorris', the lesser half of the original Vapor Queenz, Diablo 'D-LO C-LO' Calzone. A coward who once LITERALLY stabbed a God-Fodduh in the back. A coward who wears the Turtle Shell and the Footsie Pajamas, not as a man, but as a scared little boy just quivering in anticipation of his FADDUH's retribution.
"And it will CUM, D-LO. Oh it will CUM. You chose to stand with McMorris at ONE, in a failed scheme to thwart The Godfather's unyielding brand of Divine Justice. I broke your nose then, but the consequences on Sunday Night Slam will be far greater. You and Zangles, that fish dick loving pervert, will not be LARPing it up with the rest of your TMNT obsessed furry fag friends in Providence. Not once I've taken you to Hardcore Hell, the same way that I did to ZMAC. You won't be Dunkin your Donuts in any supple young Ninja Turtle ass-poon at the Dunkin Donuts Center, that is for Godfatherdamned sure!
"This won't be a championship title defense so much as it will be a double mercy killing: The Godfather ending two pointless, worthless lives-slash-careers in one shot, and doing it in Providence, the anus of New England; an appropriate burial ground for two losers whose best efforts amounted to shit. Speaking of which, it's time for you to bend over, my child. YES... YOU!!"
Those Semitic sapphires burned a hole in your soul once more. You knew then... you knew that The Godfather's 'unyielding brand of Divine Justice' was about to touch you in a far more intimate manner than you had ever conceived of.
