Dingir

[Joey Flash]

Browsing - 22:04 - 1/28/16

Joey Flash had been sat on his laptop for nigh on four hours at this point and was growing exhausted with his search. The dreams had been getting worse. Each night followed the same predictable path; Joey would finally manage to force himself to sleep before waking up in the morning with nausea in the pit of his stomach and such clear, vivid memories of his dreams. The previous night’s dreamscape had him sat in a completely white room conversing in gibberish with a tall thin faceless man. The last thing he could remember were those same spindly, spiderlike digits reaching for him…

What was more troubling for Joey was that along with the nausea, the headaches and the night’s sleep he had started suffering with blackouts. Not the type of blackout where you suddenly faint and wake up five minutes later in the same place; he had experienced this same thing multiple times over the past week where he would be in one place completely and utterly lucid and then almost with a blink of an eye would find himself in a completely different place up to several hours later. He immediately told Alessandra who had after a couple of hours of nagging managed to convince him to visit a doctor. The doctor told him in no uncertain terms that he had to go to visit his neurologist again because it might be a flare up of his concussion issues and that his very career might be in jeopardy.

Joey had visited Dr Morrell once more. He had wished with all his might that it WAS the concussions, that it was something tangible, something real. That he wasn’t simply going crazy. The brain scans came back all completely green and Joey was left to his own devices once more. Was he going crazy? Where was his time going? Where was his mind going?

He closed his ‘Joey Flash and Grayson Pierce’ starter kit masterpieces:




…and began to continue his search.

Google Search History:

are gemini battle and grayson pierce the same person
who is grayson pierce
grayson pierce killed his own son for sympathy theories
youtube scarecrow death video
youtube owen hart death video
was owen harts death ever recorded
milf xhamster hd
do concussions make you black out
bad nightmares
nightmares feel real
night terrors
sleep paralysis
sleep paralysis pain
pain when waking up
“pain after sleep”
what it is like to be abducted
abduction stories
what do aliens look like
gray alien
do aliens exist
what is blue velvet
blue velvet for sale nyc

His search led him to a forum with the bizarre title ‘Jalaxaritkatusian 0\/3|2|_0|2|)’ and a thread titled ‘Your ticket to infinity’. The opening post read:

QueenofBlades – Posts 66 – Currently Offline
Posted 04:33 – 1/13/16
“Hello loves </3. I’m offering a limited amount the chance to taste ~divinity~.

I am not selling; this is a completely free experience. You may have heard of Blue Velvet or Blue Crystal Fire, you may have even tried a timid fake (\o/) hallucinogenic trying to pass off as official. This will B L O W Y O U R M I N D.
Come meet me. Come get your ticket to heaven. Mention my name ‘Queen of Blades’ to the staff at ‘The Dragon Pantry’ newly opened on Lenox Ave.

Sea you soon </3”

The thread continued with no more involvement from the OP, simply a line up disgruntled posts.

METHMAN83 – Posts 14,214 – Currently Online
“FUCKING BITCH DIDN’T SHOW UP ITS JUST A FUCKING NERD SHOP. NEGGED. AVOID.”

PimpyTheMagicElf – Posts 1303 – This user is Banned.
“I’m going to hunt you down and kill you, stupid cunt. Wasted my time.”

Cenation – Posts 4013 – Moderator
“Take some time off Pimpy, I hope you have kept your visits to the methadone clinic up. We do not accept threats of violence here. I think this thread has run its course. Locked.

Intergalactic Christ – Posts 0 – This user no longer exists.
“Unlocked. You people who turned up are cheap, worthless people, fucking worthless cogs.

The opening message remains. I will allow no more posts following my own. Come:

T A S T E H E A V E N”

This whole thing was getting more bizarre by the minute. It felt like every step Joey took toward finding any information about what was going on with him was taking him further and further down a hole he had absolutely no desire to explore.

‘The Dragon Pantry’ maybe this thing was worth a shot, after all he had nothing el-



The Dragon Pantry 00:24 - 1/29/16

-sign looked like a four year old blind calligrapher penned the text; it hung above a small corner shop whose window was filled to the brim with all sorts of strange, bizarre products. A time jump, this was not good. He quickly checked his watch, good. He had only lost an hour and a half. For once it had proved somewhat beneficial at least, he had arrived. ‘The Dragon Pantry’ was here. Joey had never seen anything like this before it was as if he had stepped off a spaceship into a complete alien world. He had been waiting for around ten minutes, seeing people neither enter nor leave This was very much an out of the way location for such an operation to be run, he would have felt illicit and dirty…but he loved illicit and dirty. This was like a warm soft blanket and a mother’s teat to him.

Pushing open the door to the threshold he was met by a myriad of new sights and sounds, the smell of pristine paper, cardboard and plastic was overwhelming. This was a comic book shop. It made the occult tarot reader’s shop from a couple of weeks ago look like a McDonalds. He meandered through the small haven of strange products, picking one of them up it read:

‘The Art of Deception: How to avoid detection online’ – J. Fernandez

The cover depicting a man in various states of disguise, biker, evil demon, young girl, strange pilot dude, Joey was impressed. Might as well have a browse while he was here, right? His attention was taken by some raised voices toward the back of the store. He heard one man shouting.

Man: I DON’T CARE, this is the fifth fucking time we’ve let you back and all you end up doing is peddling your stupid fucking book. We haven’t had one idiot buy it yet; do you really think this disguise is working?

Stood behind the counter are two gentlemen, both burly and sullen in the face of this uncouth troublemaker. The first was wearing a ‘Celeste + Michael forever’ T-Shirt, he had obviously had shoddily, custom made that places his face next to WCF’s resident jobber bitch with a love heart surrounding it. The second was a man with possibly the most impressive facial hair Joey had ever seen, it matched Mikey eXtreme for coarse potency, this guy had a full sleeve tattoo displaying his fandom of rock band Disturbed and was wearing a Mastadon T-Shirt.

Mastadon Fan: Listen buddy, do we have to physically remove you? Don’t make me have to-

It was then Joey saw who they were talking, some oddly robed Hispanic gentleman with a fake beard and wizard hat stood in protest, he turned to Joey; eyes lighting up as he spots the book in Joey’s hand.

Bearded Gurning Guy: LOOK! HE HAS A COPY, LOOK LOOK!!!!

Mastadon Fan: Bro, you clearly planted this dude here.

Bearded Gurning Guy: NO I SWEAR IT!!! IT’S DIFFERENT THIS TIME!

Celeste Lover: Andy, what you think?

Behind the two burly men stands another tall and thin gentleman, he seems overly engrossed in his phone.

Andy: NIGHT COURT?! HAHAHA

Celeste Lover: Are you STILL on this shit? Have you not slept.

Andy seems to barely even notice the goings on around him at this point, his sleep deprived appearance a testament to the dedication he has toward his mobile device.

Andy: HAVE ANOTHER SHIACLAP YOU TRAIN LOVING FUCKER!!!

After a few moments of awkward silence Joey speaks.

Joey: Uhhh, I’m not with this guy. Why?

The two burly men exchange a look and sigh.

Mastadon Fan: Do you see this wall?

He points to a small area on the wall behind him that reads ‘PERMABANNED’. On it are two faces, one is a strange androgynous he/she who wouldn’t look out of place in any red light district anywhere in the world, though would likely be more sought after in Thailand and next to he/she/it is a the familiar face of a gurning man in shades. Joey glances to his book, to the wall then to the terribly disguised man with a beard.

Joey: Ohhhhhhhh.

Celeste Lover: So-

Mastadon Fan: Give me Mjolnir.

The Celeste Lover tossed a foam replica of Thor’s legendary hammer into the waiting hands of The Mastadon Fan, approaching The Bearded Gurning Guy with menace he raised the weapon and slammed it into the side of the guys face sending him smashing unceremoniously through all the memorabilia in the window and through the glass as he began to writhe on the pavement in pain.

Mastadon Fan: YOU LIKE THAT MOTHERFUCKER? BAN HAMMER BITC-

Joey silenced the shop with a single name, rendering all the tension and animosity to naught.

Joey: Queen of Blades.

The Mastadon Fan dropped the hammer at the very mention of the name. Celeste Lover spoke up.

Celeste Lover: Are you sure? This is not something you can return fr-



Ghost in the Night - 1/29/16 - 04:58

-figure sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around him, he felt her fingers run through his hair as she lowered her face toward his. He had lost time again, where was he? This woman…this wasn’t Alessandra. Her golden locks sat on her shoulders as a perfect offset to the dark contrast of her eyes. She gave him a small coy smile before biting her bottom lip and crossing her legs to get closer to him. This was The Queen of Blades. He opened his mouth to speak but found himself rendered mute by a small index finger across his lips. She took her other hand and with one deft move placed a thin tab on the tip of her tongue.

Queen of Blades: No words.

She drew his mouth to hers and gently pressed her lips against his, their tongues danced for what seemed like an eternity until she broke the embrace, she cupped his face in her hands.

Queen of Blades: I can see why he likes you now.

She began to sing.

“I can hear your foot-fall now
Soft disturbance in the dead-fall how
It proceeds you like a black smoke pall
Still the wanting comes in waves
And you delivered me from danger then
Pulled my cradle from the reedy glen
Swore to save me from the world of men
Then the wanting comes in waves”

Joey tried to raise a hand toward her face in return but where her porcelain cheek should have been Joey found himself caressing only thin air. He could feel her weight on her lap; he could see her, clearly, so clearly. Why could he not touch?

Queen of Blades: You’ve started to fall…

She leaned in once more and moved her mouth to next to his ear; he could feel the heat of her breath against his skin and felt his body shudder as she whispered.

Queen of Blades: No, not you. You’re going to fly. Have you ever been told just how special you are Joseph? Do you know what Ja-

He tried to speak, but as much as he tried, there would be no discourse tonight.

Queen of Blades: Wow! You’re still ‘here’.

She giggled in delight. She shifted in his lap and moved her hands toward his eyes, pulling down his eyelids and examining him.

Queen of Blades: Magnificent. You’re truly magnificent. They won’t be able to hold you, oh my God.

She gave another giggle.

Queen of Blades: They don’t even know. They don’t even know! Oh Joseph. You are fucking…beautiful. I think I HATE ENVY LOVE DESIRE- NO NO!

A wicked clap of skin on skip filled the air as The Queen of Blades slapped herself across the face. She didn’t wince, but teardrops began falling from the deep panda eyes.

Queen of Blades: Bad, bad. I can’t speak like that.

She bit her lip again and regarded Joey. He found himself feeling more hazy and hazy. His consciousness was fading. He couldn’t even feel the weight of the woman anymore. The last thing he saw was The Queen of Blades lean her face toward his and rest her forehead on his. She seemed to hesitate before speaking.

Queen of Blades:. Sweet dreams Joseph, good night sweet prince. There is only one way you will ever find out what is happening to you, make them act. You must…

The final two she whispered echoed the loudest before Joseph met darkness.

… Kill yourse-



Utopia - 1/29/16 - 10:00

-camera opens to the crackling of a log fire before we pan across to see a large oaken chair occupied by Joey Flash. His hair is clipped back and he is wearing rather snazzy black tuxedo with matching loafers, in his hand is a rather large and hefty tome. He smiles for the camera and crosses his legs before picking a glass of finest bourbon from the table next to him. He raises the drink to the camera with a ‘cheers’ and takes a sip before clinking the glass back to the table.

Joey: Welcome to this special night I have prepared for you all tonight. Today we celebrate the life and times of WCF Superstar Grayson ‘Livewire’ Pierce. To begin, we have an official reading of Grayson Pierce’s life story prepared to whet your palate. Please make yourself comfortable, keep a nice beverage in reach and enjoy…

Joey clears his throat preparing for the epic tale to come and opens the book to the opening page.

Joey: Grayson is a faggot. The end.

He slams the book closed and launches that shit straight into the fire, completely disregarding the rigorous health and safety contract he had to sign in order to use this space for filming today.

Joey: Welcome ladies and gentlemen, welcome WCF fans, and welcome most especially the honoured guest of the evening, Grayson Pierce’s dignity, self-worth and confidence. They will be sorely missed after tonight is done with. I had a tough time coming up with the angles I was going to take against you in truth, I was racking my brain and racking my brain with new and creative ways I could dismember you here…and I made a decision.

Grayson, I’m going to prove to you how truly out of your depth you are in this match. I’m going to show you the gulf in class you really have to deal with in this match. I’m not going to talk about your consistent failure at the top level; I’m not going to talk about the way you have ridden coat tail after coat tail to get where you are today, how you milk every successful gimmick and idea anyone else ever has and use it for your own future enhancement, how your life and your story is as schizophrenic as you are, I am not going to talk about the tragedy that befell your son, and I’m not going to talk about how you have spat in the face of everything that made you original and unique in the game and how all you’ve become is a bad amalgamation of everything everyone likes about others, magnified and bastardized…

Joey pauses and thinks for a moment.

Joey: Ahh who the fuck am I kidding? That’s ALL I’m gonna talk about. Let’s go you fucking clown. This is going to be a clinic. This is a clinic for everyone in the federation, take some notes. This is a clinic for YOU Grayson. Let me teach you the difference between top-tier and God-Tier, the irrevocable unassailable difference between Grayson Pierce and Joey Flash. This match is going to show you just where the glass ceiling is for you in the WCF. Answer: Far, far below me; far below the WCF World Championship.

This match is going to destroy you Pierce; you’ve spent the last three, four months toward this end? ‘The World Championship’ You’ve spent the last four months pouring everything you have into this, it’s taken you and it has consumed everything you were and spat out this broken down, worn out sack of shit at the end of it. Let me outline simply before we go further in this contest the difference at a base level between you and I.

When I joined the Wrestling Championship Federation I made two simple proclamations.

1) I will be World Champion within the year.
2) I will be Wrestler of the Year.

I accomplished them both. It was not a struggle for me. It was simply the natural outcome of the talent I possess. This year my proclamation is thus:

1) I will have established my legacy enough after two years to be a Hall of Fame lock.

What are your goals? Where does your confidence lie? What are you willing to stake your name on? Let me guess.

1) I’ll put up a good fight.
2) I’ll be in and around the main event scene.
3) I’ll challenge for more belts than Bonnie Blue.
4) I’ll be given more chances and title opportunities than anyone in the federation…
5) …and I’ll blow them all.

It makes me sick watching you labour through your career, match to match struggling at every fucking step. The crowd don’t care, you barely get the results you need to in the ring. It’s like Seth looks at you like Vince sees Roman ‘Maybe if we shove him down their throats often enough he’ll finally succeed, he’ll finally start making me money!’. That’s not the way of the world you two bit bum, in THIS business, it’s earned not given and success is a privilege not a right. The way you act nowadays, you’ve fully stripped yourself of the loveable underdog persona and gone balls deep into over pushed dickhead with an overblown ego and self-entitlement complex. You’ve stepped into the unfillable boots of Thomas Bates fucking beautifully. You’ve taken all the lessons that Bates showed leads to failure in this federation and you’ve fuckin ran with it. It’s pathetic. You still continue to subconsciously fly the DRG flag of failure long after their time has gone. It’s been almost beautiful in its synchronisation.

Thomas Bates gets World Title shot – loses in embarrassing fashion.
Gonzo Murdock gets World Title shot – loses in embarrassing fashion.
Now, stepping up to bat, from the Defilers of Logic, it’s Grayson Pierce…

Grayson Pierce gets World Title shot – do I have to be a professional gambling handicapper to show you where this is going? Well guess what happened folks; Grayson Pierce loses in embarrassing fashion. The DRG milked their fucking minor success for all that it was worth, one Trios Title win and from that it propelled each and every one of you into the main event…only for you to be summarily dropped from the main event after your perfunctory, placating ‘shot’ is given. This is your last chance, your very last chance. Funny, that your last chance is the one where you have absolutely no chance of success.

It’s ridiculous to me how you’ve managed to thrive how you’ve done. Bates and Gonzo at least earned their shots after winning Trios, but what of you Grayson? What did you do? What high profile matches did you win? What gauntlet of elites did you go through? What number one contender match did you win? Oh. Right. Well you deserve your shot after all anyway right? Even cheerleaders get Superbowl rings.

Joey takes another looooong, slooooow sip of bourbon and continues ending the career of Grayson Pierce.

Joey: You got the chance to headline One. Two people a year get that opportunity. The World Champion and the man who wins War; what would have been Joey Flash routinely beating Jay Omega was turned upside down and became…this. This ugly, awful main event. What was to be the showcase of the two best wrestlers in the company became a sideshow to everything on the card before it. The One main event was a fucking joke. It wasn’t the fault of Wade Moor. As terrible as that cellulite ridden neckbeard bitch is, it was you. You were the easy option. Seth was scrambling for a name, any name. Couldn’t have me, couldn’t have Dune, couldn’t have Jared, couldn’t have Howie…so who is left? Ahh shucks I guess Grayson Pierce will do, he’ll at least put up a fight, right?

Wrong. Gemini Battle was booked for that match. Gemini Battle had a chance in that match. Grayson Pierce? Not even fucking close. Want me to give you one simple reason you failed Gemi- sorry, Grayson is because in your chase for the top of the mountain you have spat in the face of everything that made you a success in the first place.

Gemini Battle was a wrestler who fought his way from the bottom, he overcame challenge after challenge (unless the challenge was Joey Flash, then he lost) on his rise up the ranks in the WCF. He was a schizophrenic, unpredictable, exciting performer…unfortunately it turns out his history and life is about as schizophrenic as he is. It’s like he is just making this shit up as he goes along? Please, ladies and gentlemen, I ask you one thing; if I turn out to be Dune’s brother, an alien, or the son of Jonny Fly someone just shoot me in the fucking face.

Gemini Battle had a chance, a CHANCE against Wade Moor. But Grayson, let’s set shit straight. You stripped yourself of credibility, fun, interest and apparently after seeing the hot garbage you’re showing in the ring nowadays, talent the moment you became Grayson Pierce. People liked Gemini; they rallied behind him, for good or bad. It didn’t matter if you liked him or hated him…you would be there to watch him.

‘Time for a Grayson Pierce?’ is now what people ask their friends if they want to go for a bathroom break as your stupid ass appears on screen.

‘WE HATE GEMINI, WE HATE GEMINI, WE HATE GEMINI’

Now you’re lucky if you get fucking pity claps when that old sad former clown slopes down to the ring for another lacklustre insignificant performance. Let me make something perfectly clear to you. You are no tragic figure Grayson. No matter how you try to paint yourself, it doesn’t matter anymore. No one with an attention span longer than a week believes your bullshit anymore, nor do they care. All they want is for you to scar your face again, put on that stupid fucking purple suit before riding off a cliff on a motorcycle to try to preserve the last tatters of the intrigue and joy people once got out of Gemini Battle.

There is no stopping this anymore; bottle is fully out of the cork. This isn’t the beating you want, but it’s the beating you fucking deserve. No half measures Grayson, you’re about to get this good work.

Joey pauses for a deep breath and another drink, before going ham once more.

Joey: You remain a constant in my life here Grayson. Every three months this match seems to occur. We step in the ring with each other and I walk out victorious. Do you ever wonder why this shit keeps happening? Do you ever wonder why just when I need an easy win the most you get thrown my way? Do you ever get the feeling during the build to these matches, during the match itself as you’re getting lit up every which way while the crowd chant ‘Easy, easy, easy!’ and laugh and cheer that you are the ONLY one on the outside of an inside joke?

Know this: you are not special. This is not some great matchup of destiny where you finally defeat the one man who has always disposed of you with ease. You are the sacrificial lamb handed to me every time I need the boost of a ‘big name’ win. You are the smallest name of any of the big names, so it’s fine you’re the one to be sacrificed to me, because let me reiterate.

People…don’t…care. In truth, any of the fame you even claim to have doesn’t come from your six eliminations at War, it doesn’t come from your One main event, it doesn’t come from winning the Trios Tournament. It comes from the amount of times you have faced, and lost, to Joey Flash. This is the match where everything ends. This is the match where the pseudo-feud between the pair of us concludes. It makes me laugh every time people call this shit a rivalry, were the Harlem Globetrotters and Washington Generals rivals? You have to actually muster a win once every thousand losses for that shit to be even considered considerable. This match is yet another ho hum routine win for the Globetrotters. Flash beats Pierce, oh what a fucking shocker, people will celebrate in the streets and punch holes through their ceilings in celebration!

So let’s recap for those who are just joining us. You’ve done it at a great time. As of now Grayson, you’ve stripped yourself of your pride, your uniqueness, your intrigue, your sense of creativity and your fan base at this point. Let’s see where the story of Grayson Pierce goes from here. Let’s take bets?

Does it A) Go upward as he finally realises the error of his ways? Or B) Does this stupid bastard continue to bury himself in the most ridiculous way possible?

Let’s find out.

I didn’t need to be a betting handicapper for this one either. It’s B and-



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Joey felt a searing pain run through his head, it felt like someone had just taken a knife to the top of his spinal cord and ripped upward. He staggered forward and grabbed on to the table. After a few deep breaths he tried to gather himself. What was this? He felt déjà vu for a moment, then the resonance of the whispered echo. ‘Kill yourself’.

Joey: As I was…as I was saying. The court of Joey Flash is about to rule.

You are accused of Plagiarism and mimicry in order to influence your own successes in the WCF.

How do you plead?

‘Not guilty’

Good. Let the prosecution plead its case. It’s become painfully apparent to me what has been happening to you over the past couple of months. I can see exactly why Gemini Battle disappeared and Grayson Pierce arrived. I can see the meaning behind every move you made. You slowly dissipated every aspect of outlandishness and ridiculousness in place of emotion and passion. The clown removed his makeup and we saw what was under the hood all along, a scared little bitch. It’s become a growing trend with you Grayson. Let me break this shit down so you can understand, no, you understand already. This could hurt. Let me break this shit down for everyone else.

You stripped yourself down to your humanity for one reason: because you saw what was currently being successful in the federation. No one cared for the sad clown billionaire. The sad clown billionaire who allied himself with right wing militants at that. What did they care for?

A lonesome monster living in a desert.
A drug addled Mafioso.
A ‘mad scientist’ troubled with patricide.

Right? Why can’t a mad billionaire clown survive in this world? I can tell you why. Because the mad billionaire clown simply didn’t have the talent. The mad billionaire clown thought he was holding a crutch, but that shit was completely imaginary. So once that imaginary crutch was gone and all you were left with was failure, where else was there to go? What did Grayson Pierce do? He couldn’t win matches the same way anymore? So he decided to do something completely original, rip off everything original anyone else has ever done.

We watched Grayson, we watched you in the build up to one. You were slowly becoming more devoid of personality as every week passed. Let’s expose this guy for the shit he does. This is reprehensible. In your match against Wade in the build up for it you saw the fame, the fortune Torture was making. He dropped something so popular it made Howard Black cry while looking up into Sarah’s eyes and scream ‘WHY? WHY DO I LOSE TO A SONG? HE’S NOT EVEN IN TUNE!’

Torture deserved everything he earned from that shit. Hello? It’s me, originality. Can you hear me? Nope, apparently you can’t Grayson. In the most important match of your life you legitimately thought that something that would give you the best chance of winning, the best chance of fan support, the best chance at upsetting Wade would be to…attempt a fucking song of your own. That shit was the most embarrassing and cringe worthy awful two minutes ever. It was like you losing your virginity, except a minute and a half longer.

I thought that this was the worst it could possibly get for you Grayson. I was waiting for the comics to start appearing, y’know, all sorts of fun stuff. But what came next? You fucking disgust-

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Joey screamed this time, his head felt on the verge of exploding. He fell to his knees and raked his fingernails along the floor as he tried to deal with the pain, he fired punch after punch into the thin carpet; his fists were numb to the pain. The pain disappeared with a single beat of his hear and he felt his pulse normalising with each breath. He paused for a moment before resuming.

Joey: What…what you did next. I don’t even have words for. What happened to me…I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. My son, my heir, my lifeblood. My one fucking area of salvation in this world…I watched my own actions take roost and saw my future take his final breath in front of my very eyes. It was soul-rending; it was absolutely destroying for me. Personally, professionally, whatever term you want to use for this shit. You think there goes a night I don’t think about it? No, think about HIM. He was my everything, he still is. Nothing will ever take that away from me. What you did Grayson? Unforgivable.

What was it? You saw how the people rallied behind me after such a tragedy in my life? Maybe you thought it gave me the strength to somehow topple the World Champion? What was it? What was your trigger? What was the point where you snapped? What was the point that you asked yourself the question:

“WHY AM I NOT GETTING OVER? WHY AM I NOT GETTING THE SUPPORT I NEED? WHY AM I NOT GETTING THE SYMPATHY I NEED? I HAVE TO GO OVER-“

*Grayson sees young Teddy asleep in his crib*

“Hmmmmmmmmm.”

Not only are you copying songs. Now you somewhere in that warped, strange, bizarre mind of yours thing it’s alright to copy infanticide? ‘Dune lost to the guy whose kid died last time, better make sure I have that extra stroke of luck, sorry Teddy, you’re expendable. *grabs pillow*’

You are fucking disgusting person. Fuck schizophrenia, fuck multiple personality disorder, fuck all of that. You are a narcissist fucking psychopath with no regard for even those closest to him under his care. How long was your grieving period? Did you cry? Did you even have a funeral? Of course not. Not you. That’s too much expensive, too much hassle. You just bought a size six pair of Nikes and shoved him in the box to enjoy eternity in your back yard.

What does your woman think? Shall I tell her what really happened? Shall we get an autopsy done? Shall we see a coroner’s report?
This is the moment, right there. I lost every inch of personal, professional respect for you. It became the moment I no longer view this as even having the potential of a rivalry. It became the moment I decided in my mind you are the one person in this federation I have to fucking get rid of. You turned my grief into a joke. You turned my life into a fucking parody. This I cannot abide. This I cannot abide one single bit.

Joey steadies himself and stares into the camera.

Joey: You came into this match thinking I didn’t care about, thinking I didn’t give a fuck about this match. You came into this match thinking that you need this more than I do. Here’s the part where your ego starts to slip. I’m coming into this match looking for the kill. I am not coming into this match to dead you simply because we’re booked against each other, I am not coming to kill you simply because you have been a little gnat biting at my heels for the past year. I am coming to kill you because you are the antithesis of everything that is good, positive, talented and creative in the world of wrestling today. I am coming to kill you because you have offended my moral sensibilities, my pride as a wrestler and my love as a parent. You have made a mockery of this shit for the last time.

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ＢＥ ＲＥＡＬ ＩＴ ＤＯＥＳＮ＇Ｔ ＭＡＴＴＥＲ ＡＮＹＷＡＹ ＹＯＵ ＫＮＯＷ ＩＴ＇Ｓ ＪＵＳＴ ＴＯＯ ＬＩＴＴＬＥ ＴＯＯ ＬＡＴＥ
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This is the worst one by far. Joey collapses back into the chair he began in, deep breath after deep breath. He screams out for a moment in pain as his head collapses between his knees. After about ten seconds his head raises again, drool dropping from the side of his mouth. He gives it a wipe before continuing.

Joey: I am going to kill you because…I have decided I want to reclaim what is rightfully mine. You think I was just going to stand aside and not care about this? Au contraire Mr Pierce. This match is the first step toward me taking back what is rightfully mine. You couldn’t do it. You wouldn’t do it with a second chance. This is my belt. This is my accolade. I am already the true champion; I guess I just want to have my fucking trinket back. The usurper will get everything that is coming to him. Gemini Battle, Grayson Pierce, Livewire. I T D O E S N ' T M A T T E R A N Y W A Y-

His head throbbed again.

- what you call yourself. This match has been too long in the making. This outcome has been a long time in coming. The final chapter of Joey Flash vs Grayson Pierce is about to be written. You are about to be returned to where you belong and shown where your place in the federation truly is. Wade couldn't do it, so it's time to let the true elite of the federation show you. You're fucking finished.

Bodybags on deck it's-

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
ＢＥ ＲＥＡＬ ＩＴ ＤＯＥＳＮ＇Ｔ ＭＡＴＴＥＲ ＡＮＹＷＡＹ ＹＯＵ ＫＮＯＷ ＩＴ＇Ｓ ＪＵＳＴ ＴＯＯ ＬＩＴＴＬＥ ＴＯＯ ＬＡＴＥ
~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With that, the pain was unbearable. Joey Flash collapsed, and enjoyed darkness once more.



The Divine Suicide of J - 05:04 - 1/30/16

‘Kill yourself’.

Fine, he didn’t know anymore. Since October he was in hell. Physical, mental, psychological hell. Every step he took seemed to drag him down in an ocean of self-destruction. Why not just press the ‘self-destruct’ button yourself rather than bothering with the slow arduous process of life? ‘Make them act’ she had told him. He laughed to himself, he was trusting the words of a woman who he had never met before, who had drugged him…this was insanity. This was…desperation. He read the note yet again.

“Hello J.

I had such a lovely time with you last night. You blew my fucking mind. Let me repay the favor. Take this, then do what you have to do.
<3

-Your Queen”

With a flick of his lighter the paper caught fire and fell into ashes on the bed next to him. Whatever had happened that night? If Alessandra found that note, he wouldn’t be long for this world anyway. He had awoken in his own bed with only that note and a small packet.

Joey opened the packet and placed the tab of the substance known as Blue Velvet on the tip of his tongue before swallowing the end of his life. His legs sagged under him as he managed to grimace through the pain and stagger over to his bed.

Staring at the empty packet of Blue Velvet, the sticker on the front that of a grinning shark. Joey managed a laugh, not out of nervousness, more like an accepting laugh of soldier carrying only a bayonet on the battlefield before storming over the trenches into the welcoming arms of a machine gun. He regarded the knife next to the Blue Velvet pack and grasped it with a shaking hand. Placing the knife next to his wrist he took a deep breath. One way or another, he was going to get an answer.

He made the cut. Looking down at his arm as the blood pumped out in a steady pulse keeping rhythm with his heartbeat. He would be dead soon. The cut was long and deep, from fist all the way down his forearm down to the elbow joint.

The pain was intense, far more than he had expected, but it had to be. He staggered round the room and collapsed onto the bed as he felt his legs begin to cramp and his eyes flutter drawing him into sleep, eternal sleep.

A world of white engulfed him, he was scared. So this was death. No heaven, no hell. He was awake or so it seemed, but ever so lightheaded. He couldn’t move his head, forcing his gaze into the eternal light. There was nothing discernable in this void, no visible markers or points of reference, just white nothingness.

He tried raising his arm to wave a hand in front of his face, but his body didn’t respond.

I’d heard it was all blackness, I guess there is only so much you can know about dying without…you know, dying.

It took Joey a while, or at least what seemed like a while, to realize that he couldn’t even feel his own breathing. He had no sensation of the rise and fall of neither his chest nor the cool breath entering his mouth, hell he couldn’t even feel his mouth. It was as if he’d just stepped out of the dentists, only if the dentist had jammed his friendly needle in Joey’s entire body.

Is this the time you’re given for judgment maybe? What was he supposed to do, just stand and contemplate things? Ahh the mysteries of life…one little thing though, where in the fuck am I? Though to be fair, what the hell else could he do? Not as if he could run around and frolic in the void. Not as if he could even blink. There was probably plenty of time for that soon enough. I’ll probably be frolicking on the end of a pitchfork soon enough. Was this really all there was? What did he really expect? A big bearded chap telling him what a disgraceful, deceitful and truly irredeemable soul he was? That what he just did was the work of a coward? That Joey Flash was the biggest scumbag piece of shit known to man? Ten thousand millennia of suffering for you Mr Flash come back when you’re cured. I guess that’s what he’d hoped for, no that’s a lie, what he had hoped for was finality, what he’d hoped for was to simply no longer exist, not because he was deserving but because simply put, he was a coward.

I was sure it would work, so sure. The tears wouldn’t come; he deserved no tears, and would be getting none. He thought of the little boy’s final breath, of his own final breath.

The silence was broken. A shrill noise began to pierce though him like a pneumatic drill amplified by about ten thousand speakers. The endless whiteness began to fluctuate as patches of black began to seep into colour intermittently like an old television trying to tune itself to the next signal. Was this fear? Joey was pretty sure it was, not that he could tell, he had no stomach tightening and no adrenalin to help him find out. The sound was no longer a constant but more of a sharp pulse raking across his brain.

It hit notes higher and lower than he could even imagine, and probably some beyond that. Then just like that, the noise stopped. Once more this void of white was bathed in silence. Joey wanted his ears to be ringing right now, to give him some indication that this noise, that this fucking place was real. He didn’t have to wait long, he got his answer soon enough.

The footsteps rang through his mind even worse than the noise from before, each footfall sounding like the breaking of a thousand china figurines on a marble floor. With each loudening step Joey tried to scream out and call to whoever it was, after all he did…he still wanted to live. He wanted to survive. He wanted to be saved. Why then was it that the only words he wanted to scream were “Stay away!”?

Then he knew.

The footsteps had stopped and he finally saw it. Saw him.

“♪You are here, how queer ♪” the man’s voice was as serene and soothing as a waterfall and a light summers breeze. His voice carried his tuneful dulcet tones with such suave beauty. “♪How very queer, why are you here? ♪”

Joey tried to speak, but once more there was nothing but silence.

“♪A tad tongue tied Mr Malignaggi, man of the year? Oh I am so terribly sorry, but do you know why you are here? ♪” the man said with more force this time.

As much as he wanted to reply Joey could simply not say the words. Not only could he not say a word but as far as he could tell the man in front of him had no face. He didn’t know how to even describe it to himself but every single thought in his mind, his troubles, his joys, his family, his life, his death was wiped out and turned to naught in face of this person. He continued to stare, he had not even an inkling of an idea what this place was or what was happening, but whatever sense he had left keeping him alive blared red with danger. Is this…God?

“♪I am not God, how very odd ♪” He read Joey’s mind. The man’s blank face finally began to come together; a blank canvas became a portrait of such incredible detail as a thin nose, deep grey eyes, a shock of golden white hair and finally a long thin smile appeared on the mannequin face of the man in front of him. “♪Pardon one for being terse…

The man reached a hand toward Joey’s face, the spindly, spiderlike fingers twisting as they came for him.

“♪To you, I am something much, much worse♪"