Post by Joey Flash on Feb 28, 2016 17:34:34 GMT -5
Comfortably Numb
The rhythmic chugging of the Mercedes Benz played a serene concerto for two of its passengers, for the other two it was a dirge with the most excruciating finality. What had started off as a simple ‘meeting’ between the four most important members of the Cosa Nostra in the North East had turned into a coup, and an execution. This was the longest drive of Joseph Malignaggi’s life, in the trunk of the car he carried the most important, expensive and dangerous cargo he had witnessed: Alessio Montolivo and Vincent Colletti.
The pair had been beaten, bound and gagged by their own ‘trusted associates’ in the Four Seasons meeting room as the mastermind of the evening’s events looked on through a crimson mask of satisfactory glee. He glanced away from the road for a moment to the orchestrator of tonight’s events.
Alessandra smiled back at him as she dabbed a tissue at the thick gash across her brow, brushing her hair back behind her ears. How could she be so calm? She had in one night thrown the door open to a nationwide scramble for the territories and drawn a target on the Allegri family so large not even the power and influence of her father would be enough to quell the rising tide. This was the woman nine months ago who he saw squealing over puppies, covering her eyes whenever a violent scene came on the television, squeezing his hand extra tight when something scary was happening. It had all been a lie, this is his wife, this is the woman he agreed to marry, she was a sociopathic, manipulative, power hungry person who seemed to get a sexual rush from murder and suffering. He had seen a lot in this world, he thought he had found a grasp on what ‘evil’ was, he had spent the best part of his life whispering prayers of forgiveness for his sins before sleep thinking that the things he had done were the very definition of the word. Tonight it was then he finally understood. The woman with the beautiful kind eyes, with the loving tender kisses, who would stroke his hair as he slept, was the very embodiment of the word…and he loved her.
Alessandra: I’m sorry Joseph.
Joey: What for exactly?
Alessandra: Using you. It was wrong.
He had felt a sense of sickness as he watched the goons beat the two bosses into submission before they tied them up, that this whole evening had been nothing more than a setup with him, yet again, as the pawn. She had just admitted as much, it hurt.
Joey: Oh really? You don’t think just maybe I’d have been able to be a little bit more prepared for this shit if you I dunno, told me?
Alessandra: Like you told me that you had killed John Colletti?
He had no comeback.
Alessandra: That’s what I thought. You tell me THAT, and things happen a lot differently. I had to adjust on the fly thanks to you.
Joey: Sorry.
Why was it him apologising? Every time this happened.
Joey: What exactly are you planning? Why have you-
Alessandra: I ask you again Joseph, do you trust me?
Joey: …yes.
She smiled at him and rested a hand on his arm.
Alessandra: Take us to La Societa.
Joey looked back at the trunk of the car.
Joey: Don’t you think-
Alessandra: All preparations are made. Why do you think father left so quickly?
She smiled.
Alessandra: Why do you think we suggested going there?
The noise of movement from the trunk was getting louder now; the two men were coming back into consciousness. Alessandra giggled to herself and planted a soft kiss on Joey’s cheek before fiddling with the music system for a moment before finding a song she liked.
Alessandra turned the volume dial up to drown out the muffled screams; she rested her hand on his knee, tracing her hand up his leg and rested it on his crotch before leaning in to his ear and whispering in a husky ravenous growl.
Alessandra: Let’s make it a night to remember.
This is the part where I win.
We open back in the studio from where the interview left off last time. Joey’s man bun was let loose and his hair fell across his shoulders once more, tie off, shirt unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up. He opens his arms wide and gives a warm smile.
Joey: So, you chose the red pill. Welcome to the real world. Welcome to the true reality of the wrestling business, this is not a reality where Jayson Price is a main event wrestler, this is not a reality where Jayson Price even belongs being mentioned in the same sentence as the true elites. This is the reality: Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the world, Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the history of this company, Joey Flash is going to be the next WCF World Champion, Joey Flash is going to use the carcass of Jayson Price as an example of what this title reign is going be like. It is this simple; I will hold the belt for as long as I want to. There is not a wrestler out there that can take it off me, the ball is in my court, the game is on my racquet and I’m going to show the world just what the horror of Joey Flash in a World Title match looks like. It’s like the Invisible Man taking a dump…
‘WHAT’S THAT?!’
…this is some shit you’ve never seen before. Let’s get it popping. I’ve spent a whole promo talking about and around Jayson Price. Now it’s time to talk TO you Jay. You’re about to get this good work. This is the kind of ether that’ll leave everyone watching with that Listerine taste in their mouth, this is going to end your career with such potency this promo is the last line through Belushi’s nose for you. Let’s go.
First thing’s first fuckhead, the most relevance you’ve had since I’ve been here is being the subject of a fucking song.
That is up there with the most embarrassing shit I could imagine, what on god’s green earth has happened to you? You have the stats, the record of a guy who should be right up there tearing it up any week you wanted, so many people try to tell me not to take this match lightly not to go in too confident against you. But why the fuck should I take you seriously? You can’t even take yourself seriously. It seems you stopped taking your own career seriously about two years ago. What changed? It’s one simple reason. You didn’t stop caring, you didn’t give up on it, it gave up on you. Times changed, new faces entered through the doors and look what happened? The talent level just rose beyond a level you can hang at.
Since I’ve joined this company I have seen absolutely no examples of you being able to clutch to a spot even at the top of the mid card, let alone survive in the rarefied air I breathe. Your highlights and accomplishments since I arrived here are as follows:
- Jayson Price wins fake title from woman.
- Jayson Price is beaten into a coma
- Jayson Price is in a coma
- Jayson Price is still in a coma
- What’s going on with Jayson Pr- oh, no…what’s Gravedigger doing?! Ahh, well uh…yep, still in a coma.
- Jayson Price returns after killing Scarecro- nope, can’t even come back to life right. God this guy fucking sucks.
- Jayson Price returns from coma in nonsensically teaming up with Torture.
- Causes defeat of Howard Black in RP of the Year by being subject of song.
- Is bodied by song.
These wonderful steps and accomplishments managed to get Jayson Price a shot at the World Title…wut? That’s like if Adam Young was given a World Title shot for fuck…oh-wut.
What do you expect Price? How can you expect anyone to respect you or your abilities when THAT is your resume this year. Even Burger King wouldn’t hire you with that sack of shit, and this is the company that just hired Jay Omega (#CANONMAKER) I mean Jesus Christ.
Joey takes a pause and begins counting on his fingers.
Not believing in God.
Not believing in ghosts.
Not believing in aliens.
Not believing in conspiracy theories.
Not believing Jayson Price is a good wrestler.
What’s the connection Jayson? What I’m trying to tell you is, seeing is believing and to me, it’s Kevin Bacon you’re looking like a fucking Hollow Man. You can run your mouth so much about past glories and all the ways you’ve influenced the game, the only thing you’ve influenced in your title reign this time is have everyone in the WCF Universe baying for the Joey Flash era to begin for real this time. The past few months since I became champion and had to bounce have been the darkest days in WCF history for the main strap, to have in succession, Jay Omega, Wade Moor, Jayson Price. That shit sounds more like a line at the welfare office than the last three world champions. Fucking sickening, well let me let everyone rest easy the transitional period is over. The belt has been mine all this time and you clowns have just been holding onto it until I could be bothered to take it back, rejoice the dark days of mediocrity blown away by the lightning crack of excellence.
Let's break things down in an easy way Price. I do absolutely everything better than you. There is not a single aspect in this world that you excel at a level higher than I do. I'm smarter than you, I'm more stupid than you, I'm way fuckin more talented but also more retarded than you. Even your fucking failures I do better than you.
You, beat and retired Yung Adam da Villain.
I, got dominated and bodied by Yung Adam da Villain.
You lost the Television Title to some random bitch called Anastasia Petrova, now I have no idea who the fuck that is, and have absolutely no intention of finding out. Sure, you got killed by a woman of Soviet origins, which by all accounts is pretty embarrassing and pitiful.
But I?! Lost the Television Title to fucking GRIME. I got beaten so badly by Grime even a high powered water jet couldn’t have helped me.
You had one of the most pitiful title reigns of all time losing the World Title in sixteen days.
Me?! Motherfucker I lost the World Title in sixteen fucking minutes! I’m unstoppable with my shitness.
I’ve got you beaten all ends up. On Sunday I’m ending your career, not as a main eventer, not as a wrestler, but as a self-respecting MAN. I’m going to strip the balls off you so badly your next career step is to audition for a role as an extra as an Unsullied in Game of Thrones. Is it starting to sink in Price just the level of what you’re up against yet? Knees weak palms are sweaty, something something spaghetti. Suck a dick.
Jayson Price, kill yourself. Here I’ll make it easy for you, just climb up to the top of your ego and leap to your wrestling ability. You’ll be dead in about ten years.
Joey smiles
Joey: This is that old school Joey Flash shit; this is that Television Title Flash shit. (Fourth wall? We break that. Bookending with Mafia story segments? We do that? Killing worthless jobber faggot with a brutal shoot? We do that) My style is the template for the modern WCF, even my wannabe clones would kill you at this point. My bottom bitch Gemwire would light you up. This is an absolute fucking no contest.
What’s going to happen, going to blame your loss on the drink Jayson? Gonna ramble on in a post everyone will skip online about how you’ll be back and have a rematch clause or some shit? Will Jay sorry buddy, I made last minute changes to the contract before you signed it. Ain’t no rematch clause…and your wrestling name is now legally ‘Jayson Cooper’.
You are up there with the most fucking idiotic gimmicks in this entire federation; this is a federation with aliens, vampires, witches and time travelling billionaires. You are ‘a drunk’ *clap clap clap*. How does it feel to be so malnourished and dehydrated, so unhealthy and fucking frail that every time you have sex and pull the condom off the shit inside looks like yellow phlegm?
Respected as wrestler, legendary as drunk. Legendary as a drunk?
More like depressing as a drunk, pathetic as a drunk, smelling like a drunk, dressing like a drunk; body swelling like a drunk, sweating like a drunk, bumming for change like a drunk, losing contact with your friends and family as a drunk, costing yourself any chance at defending this title as a drunk, destroyed relationships with all the friends you have in this business as a drunk, made them kick you into a coma as a drunk, wrecked your life – so end your life as a drunk.
You’re pathetic, people getting fucked up from circumstance because of where they got born and how they got raised. You’re fucked up from a path you chose, that’s why #BlackLivesMatter and #BlackLiversDont.
Thank you for holding my belt with such care. Those beautiful decals you had done, I’m going to have fun taking your hard work off my new property with a rusty fuckin chisel you herb. You are a sacrificial lamb to my success. It was never going to go any other way here. There is the door Jayson, now would you kindly fuck off from active competition and never cross my path again, go back to running an irrelevant show no one cares about on Wednesdays and stay the fuck out of MY ring. You’re not welcome anymore.
On Sunday, you will be beaten in every facet, stood up, on the mat, in the air. There is no place you have an advantage, so when I’m done with thrashing you and you fall to the greatest in the world it won’t be all bad. Stand before me shaking, then shake the hand of your replacement.
Time to make the World Championship great again, bodybags on deck, you’re finished.
Bow Down
The Malignaggi’s pulled up outside La Societa where they found two of the thugs from earlier tending the door. Alessandra swept her shawl across her shoulders and stepped out, each step of her boots echoing with a lonely resonance across the concrete. Joey watched as she approached them, the screaming and banging from the trunk was as loud as ever now; Joey steadied himself and exited the car.
The two thugs were joined by another two as Alessandra instructed them to bring the two Don’s inside. She turned to Joey.
Alessandra: Would you like a drink?
Joey: Uhh I don’t think it’s the-
She took his hand and led him inside, what Joey had left last week as a run-down derelict relic had been completely overhauled. From the lighting and sound systems to the paint and flooring it was in one word: stunning. It mirrored the old ‘Societa’ so much in style but every single area had seen an upgrade. It must have taken millions, and that’s before they even reached the bar. She span round and had a girlish level of giddiness he hadn’t seen since Christian about her.
Alessandra: Surprise!
The bar had been completely restocked, everything had been stripped and replaced; it was like someone had reached into his brain and plucked out exactly what he envisioned when he first took control of the once booming night spot.
Alessandra: Ready for that drink yet?
Her tongue crept across her lips as she gave him a grin before she darted behind the bar, tracing her fingers along the wines, settling on a deep full bodied red.
Alessandra: Share a Shiraz?
Joey: Share a fucking Shiraz?
Joey was dumbfounded.
Joey: Al I don’t know what to say, I-
Alessandra: Nothing. Your smile is thanks enough.
She placed two wine glasses down and set the wine in between them as the two locked eyes once more. Joey truly was speechless, this woman, she-
-the moment was broken by panicked screams. Joey turned to see Don Vincent Colletti and Don Alessio Montolivo were being manhandled inside. Their hands had been bound and bags placed over their heads, they were kicking and screaming for something, someone, anything to help. He felt a warm soft hand on his cheek and his face was turned back to face his wife.
Alessandra: Ignore them.
She shouted toward the thugs.
Alessandra: Take them to the roof…
She smiled as Joey.
Alessandra: …and shatter their ankles.
Joey was frozen in place; it was like watching a maestro conducting the London Philharmonic to their finest concert. As the two men were dragged kicking and screaming into the elevator Alessandra simply went to pouring the wine.
Alessandra: We haven’t had much time to talk lately.
Joey: …yeah.
Alessandra: You’ve been distant, and yes, so have I. I just want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart.
Joey: For?
Alessandra bit her bottom lip and started tracing a finger along the rim of her wine glass.
Alessandra: For doing what I couldn’t. I tried Joseph, I sent so many people, I-
Joey: For what?!
Alessandra: For avenging our son.
It was the first time she had even truly spoken about that day, the first time she had ever shown anything resembling emotion to him about it. It wasn’t tears; it wasn’t a woman on her knees broken and crying. But for Alessandra, he knew how much this meant. He pulled his wife close and kissed her on the forehead.
Alessandra: I’m sorry I was so shit. I couldn’t even help you, I couldn’t even protect you, I would have sacrificed the whole population of this city just to get the one person I love to just…
She hugged him tight.
Alessandra: …stop crying.
She wasn’t going about things the right way. Joey wiped his jacket sleeve across his eyes, this was unexpected.
Joey: It’s like you’re actually trying to be nice.
Her demeanour changed immediately, she punched him in the gut doubling him over.
Alessandra: Drink your wine.
Then her seriousness shattered with a laugh.
Alessandra: Seriously though, we have guests. It’s rude to keep them waiting.
The two clinked glasses and took a sip.
Alessandra: So on Sunday I’m going to be Mrs World Champion huh?
Joey: That’s the plan.
Alessandra: Oh suddenly humble?
She hit him in the arm. He would end up more bruised from this than the match with Price at this rate.
Joey: Please, who do you think I am? Of course you are.
Alessandra: Do you think I should buy a new dress for the occasion?
Joey: I-
Alessandra: Maybe some new Bahniks?
Joey: I think you asking me is irrelevant.
Alessandra: Yeah you’re right. I bought them already, just wanted to seem less like a bitch.
Joey laughed for the first time tonight and the pair downed the remainder of their glasses. She took him by the hand and pulled him toward the elevator.
Alessandra: Time for the main course.
They ascended in silence before the doors opened with a *ping*. The first hints of the springtime bloom were beginning in the garden, the rows of flowers to each side were beginning to bud upward. The pair walked toward the small courtyard where the four thugs were awaiting. Their two captives had been tied to a pair of chairs, and from the blood pooled around their feet their ankles had indeed been shattered. Alessandra addressed the goons.
Alessandra: Leave us.
Goon: But Mrs Ma-
Alessandra: Leave.
The goons did her bidding without further quarrel, leaving just her, Joey, Alessio and Vincent on the rooftop. She grabbed the bags from both men’s heads and yanked them free. Their faces were swollen and battered, almost unrecognisable. She turned toward the office at the far end of the roof and slowly walked away leaving the three men. They tried to talk and plead through muffled speech, Joey addressed them.
Joey: See ain’t it funny. This was your dream scenario here. This is what you two had thought up all along, we three would be on this rooftop, but instead it would be me battered, bruised and begging. How does it feel?
The two men tried to respond.
Joey: It’s sickening. You try to move onto my turf like I’m nothing, what am I to you people? A joke? Ha ha. Come on guys it’s funny right? I’m funny, right? Laugh. You.
He pointed at Alessio before cracking him with a right hand.
Joey: Laugh.
Alessio began to pitifully attempt a laugh before Joey slapped him once more, shouting in his ear.
Joey: Who is the funny motherfucker now?! You people come to MY city trying to creep on MY business and then think there won’t be consequences. Your people won’t understand that, and that’s great, because unlike you weak soft bellied fucks I LIVE for war.
His speech was greeted by claps from behind the two men. Stood behind them were Alessandra and Bernardo Allegri.
Bernardo: See Vince, Alessio, I didn’t make a mistake with this one did I? Joseph. Here is my belated wedding gift for you.
He nodded to his daughter who produced the silenced pistol once more, resting it on the back of Alessio’s head.
Bernardo: Connecticut.
Alessandra fired, slumping Alessio Montolivo’s head forward as his brain matter scattered on the floor at his feet. Vincent screamed as Alessandra placed the gun on the back of his head.
Bernardo: New Jersey.
Another shot, another splashed painting of gore across the floor. The only sound left was the slow dripping of lifeblood to the concrete and the street noise from street level below.
Joey: I-
Bernardo: Earned it.
Joey: Wh-
Bernardo: You protected as many people as you could during the wedding massacre, you destroyed the thing that killed my grandchild, you showed more than your share then and-
Joey wasn’t waiting around. Show dominance, show power.
Joey: What about New York?
Bernardo stared at a moment before breaking into a smile and striding toward him.
Bernardo: The meeting tonight did have the most powerful person in New York there, Alessandra was just there as a plant. You said it yourself.
He put his arm around his son in law and the pair looked out toward the dazzling skyline.
Bernardo: It’s YOUR city.
Joey smiled inwardly.
Joey: Oh I know.
He smiled outwardly.
Joey: Just wanted to make sure you knew it too.
Alessandra broke into a laugh as she was beginning the clean-up of the two former bosses.
Joey: Al.
Alessandra looked up at him as he began to walk toward the elevator. He didn’t even so much as look back.
Joey: I’ll be back with the world.
The rhythmic chugging of the Mercedes Benz played a serene concerto for two of its passengers, for the other two it was a dirge with the most excruciating finality. What had started off as a simple ‘meeting’ between the four most important members of the Cosa Nostra in the North East had turned into a coup, and an execution. This was the longest drive of Joseph Malignaggi’s life, in the trunk of the car he carried the most important, expensive and dangerous cargo he had witnessed: Alessio Montolivo and Vincent Colletti.
The pair had been beaten, bound and gagged by their own ‘trusted associates’ in the Four Seasons meeting room as the mastermind of the evening’s events looked on through a crimson mask of satisfactory glee. He glanced away from the road for a moment to the orchestrator of tonight’s events.
Alessandra smiled back at him as she dabbed a tissue at the thick gash across her brow, brushing her hair back behind her ears. How could she be so calm? She had in one night thrown the door open to a nationwide scramble for the territories and drawn a target on the Allegri family so large not even the power and influence of her father would be enough to quell the rising tide. This was the woman nine months ago who he saw squealing over puppies, covering her eyes whenever a violent scene came on the television, squeezing his hand extra tight when something scary was happening. It had all been a lie, this is his wife, this is the woman he agreed to marry, she was a sociopathic, manipulative, power hungry person who seemed to get a sexual rush from murder and suffering. He had seen a lot in this world, he thought he had found a grasp on what ‘evil’ was, he had spent the best part of his life whispering prayers of forgiveness for his sins before sleep thinking that the things he had done were the very definition of the word. Tonight it was then he finally understood. The woman with the beautiful kind eyes, with the loving tender kisses, who would stroke his hair as he slept, was the very embodiment of the word…and he loved her.
Alessandra: I’m sorry Joseph.
Joey: What for exactly?
Alessandra: Using you. It was wrong.
He had felt a sense of sickness as he watched the goons beat the two bosses into submission before they tied them up, that this whole evening had been nothing more than a setup with him, yet again, as the pawn. She had just admitted as much, it hurt.
Joey: Oh really? You don’t think just maybe I’d have been able to be a little bit more prepared for this shit if you I dunno, told me?
Alessandra: Like you told me that you had killed John Colletti?
He had no comeback.
Alessandra: That’s what I thought. You tell me THAT, and things happen a lot differently. I had to adjust on the fly thanks to you.
Joey: Sorry.
Why was it him apologising? Every time this happened.
Joey: What exactly are you planning? Why have you-
Alessandra: I ask you again Joseph, do you trust me?
Joey: …yes.
She smiled at him and rested a hand on his arm.
Alessandra: Take us to La Societa.
Joey looked back at the trunk of the car.
Joey: Don’t you think-
Alessandra: All preparations are made. Why do you think father left so quickly?
She smiled.
Alessandra: Why do you think we suggested going there?
The noise of movement from the trunk was getting louder now; the two men were coming back into consciousness. Alessandra giggled to herself and planted a soft kiss on Joey’s cheek before fiddling with the music system for a moment before finding a song she liked.
Alessandra turned the volume dial up to drown out the muffled screams; she rested her hand on his knee, tracing her hand up his leg and rested it on his crotch before leaning in to his ear and whispering in a husky ravenous growl.
Alessandra: Let’s make it a night to remember.
This is the part where I win.
We open back in the studio from where the interview left off last time. Joey’s man bun was let loose and his hair fell across his shoulders once more, tie off, shirt unbuttoned, and sleeves rolled up. He opens his arms wide and gives a warm smile.
Joey: So, you chose the red pill. Welcome to the real world. Welcome to the true reality of the wrestling business, this is not a reality where Jayson Price is a main event wrestler, this is not a reality where Jayson Price even belongs being mentioned in the same sentence as the true elites. This is the reality: Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the world, Joey Flash is the best wrestler in the history of this company, Joey Flash is going to be the next WCF World Champion, Joey Flash is going to use the carcass of Jayson Price as an example of what this title reign is going be like. It is this simple; I will hold the belt for as long as I want to. There is not a wrestler out there that can take it off me, the ball is in my court, the game is on my racquet and I’m going to show the world just what the horror of Joey Flash in a World Title match looks like. It’s like the Invisible Man taking a dump…
‘WHAT’S THAT?!’
…this is some shit you’ve never seen before. Let’s get it popping. I’ve spent a whole promo talking about and around Jayson Price. Now it’s time to talk TO you Jay. You’re about to get this good work. This is the kind of ether that’ll leave everyone watching with that Listerine taste in their mouth, this is going to end your career with such potency this promo is the last line through Belushi’s nose for you. Let’s go.
First thing’s first fuckhead, the most relevance you’ve had since I’ve been here is being the subject of a fucking song.
Hello it’s me, being a competent wrestler and worthy world champion who is a worthy figurehead and standard bearer for the company, can you hear me?
*BBZZZZT Sorry can’t hear you Price.*
*BBZZZZT Sorry can’t hear you Price.*
Hello it's me, I'm a fucking faggot, can you hear me?
*Yep got you loud and clear now Jayson!*
That is up there with the most embarrassing shit I could imagine, what on god’s green earth has happened to you? You have the stats, the record of a guy who should be right up there tearing it up any week you wanted, so many people try to tell me not to take this match lightly not to go in too confident against you. But why the fuck should I take you seriously? You can’t even take yourself seriously. It seems you stopped taking your own career seriously about two years ago. What changed? It’s one simple reason. You didn’t stop caring, you didn’t give up on it, it gave up on you. Times changed, new faces entered through the doors and look what happened? The talent level just rose beyond a level you can hang at.
Since I’ve joined this company I have seen absolutely no examples of you being able to clutch to a spot even at the top of the mid card, let alone survive in the rarefied air I breathe. Your highlights and accomplishments since I arrived here are as follows:
- Jayson Price wins fake title from woman.
- Jayson Price is beaten into a coma
- Jayson Price is in a coma
- Jayson Price is still in a coma
- What’s going on with Jayson Pr- oh, no…what’s Gravedigger doing?! Ahh, well uh…yep, still in a coma.
- Jayson Price returns after killing Scarecro- nope, can’t even come back to life right. God this guy fucking sucks.
- Jayson Price returns from coma in nonsensically teaming up with Torture.
- Causes defeat of Howard Black in RP of the Year by being subject of song.
- Is bodied by song.
These wonderful steps and accomplishments managed to get Jayson Price a shot at the World Title…wut? That’s like if Adam Young was given a World Title shot for fuck…oh-wut.
What do you expect Price? How can you expect anyone to respect you or your abilities when THAT is your resume this year. Even Burger King wouldn’t hire you with that sack of shit, and this is the company that just hired Jay Omega (#CANONMAKER) I mean Jesus Christ.
Joey takes a pause and begins counting on his fingers.
Not believing in God.
Not believing in ghosts.
Not believing in aliens.
Not believing in conspiracy theories.
Not believing Jayson Price is a good wrestler.
What’s the connection Jayson? What I’m trying to tell you is, seeing is believing and to me, it’s Kevin Bacon you’re looking like a fucking Hollow Man. You can run your mouth so much about past glories and all the ways you’ve influenced the game, the only thing you’ve influenced in your title reign this time is have everyone in the WCF Universe baying for the Joey Flash era to begin for real this time. The past few months since I became champion and had to bounce have been the darkest days in WCF history for the main strap, to have in succession, Jay Omega, Wade Moor, Jayson Price. That shit sounds more like a line at the welfare office than the last three world champions. Fucking sickening, well let me let everyone rest easy the transitional period is over. The belt has been mine all this time and you clowns have just been holding onto it until I could be bothered to take it back, rejoice the dark days of mediocrity blown away by the lightning crack of excellence.
Let's break things down in an easy way Price. I do absolutely everything better than you. There is not a single aspect in this world that you excel at a level higher than I do. I'm smarter than you, I'm more stupid than you, I'm way fuckin more talented but also more retarded than you. Even your fucking failures I do better than you.
You, beat and retired Yung Adam da Villain.
I, got dominated and bodied by Yung Adam da Villain.
You lost the Television Title to some random bitch called Anastasia Petrova, now I have no idea who the fuck that is, and have absolutely no intention of finding out. Sure, you got killed by a woman of Soviet origins, which by all accounts is pretty embarrassing and pitiful.
But I?! Lost the Television Title to fucking GRIME. I got beaten so badly by Grime even a high powered water jet couldn’t have helped me.
You had one of the most pitiful title reigns of all time losing the World Title in sixteen days.
Me?! Motherfucker I lost the World Title in sixteen fucking minutes! I’m unstoppable with my shitness.
I’ve got you beaten all ends up. On Sunday I’m ending your career, not as a main eventer, not as a wrestler, but as a self-respecting MAN. I’m going to strip the balls off you so badly your next career step is to audition for a role as an extra as an Unsullied in Game of Thrones. Is it starting to sink in Price just the level of what you’re up against yet? Knees weak palms are sweaty, something something spaghetti. Suck a dick.
Jayson Price, kill yourself. Here I’ll make it easy for you, just climb up to the top of your ego and leap to your wrestling ability. You’ll be dead in about ten years.
Joey smiles
Joey: This is that old school Joey Flash shit; this is that Television Title Flash shit. (Fourth wall? We break that. Bookending with Mafia story segments? We do that? Killing worthless jobber faggot with a brutal shoot? We do that) My style is the template for the modern WCF, even my wannabe clones would kill you at this point. My bottom bitch Gemwire would light you up. This is an absolute fucking no contest.
What’s going to happen, going to blame your loss on the drink Jayson? Gonna ramble on in a post everyone will skip online about how you’ll be back and have a rematch clause or some shit? Will Jay sorry buddy, I made last minute changes to the contract before you signed it. Ain’t no rematch clause…and your wrestling name is now legally ‘Jayson Cooper’.
You are up there with the most fucking idiotic gimmicks in this entire federation; this is a federation with aliens, vampires, witches and time travelling billionaires. You are ‘a drunk’ *clap clap clap*. How does it feel to be so malnourished and dehydrated, so unhealthy and fucking frail that every time you have sex and pull the condom off the shit inside looks like yellow phlegm?
Respected as wrestler, legendary as drunk. Legendary as a drunk?
More like depressing as a drunk, pathetic as a drunk, smelling like a drunk, dressing like a drunk; body swelling like a drunk, sweating like a drunk, bumming for change like a drunk, losing contact with your friends and family as a drunk, costing yourself any chance at defending this title as a drunk, destroyed relationships with all the friends you have in this business as a drunk, made them kick you into a coma as a drunk, wrecked your life – so end your life as a drunk.
You’re pathetic, people getting fucked up from circumstance because of where they got born and how they got raised. You’re fucked up from a path you chose, that’s why #BlackLivesMatter and #BlackLiversDont.
Thank you for holding my belt with such care. Those beautiful decals you had done, I’m going to have fun taking your hard work off my new property with a rusty fuckin chisel you herb. You are a sacrificial lamb to my success. It was never going to go any other way here. There is the door Jayson, now would you kindly fuck off from active competition and never cross my path again, go back to running an irrelevant show no one cares about on Wednesdays and stay the fuck out of MY ring. You’re not welcome anymore.
On Sunday, you will be beaten in every facet, stood up, on the mat, in the air. There is no place you have an advantage, so when I’m done with thrashing you and you fall to the greatest in the world it won’t be all bad. Stand before me shaking, then shake the hand of your replacement.
Time to make the World Championship great again, bodybags on deck, you’re finished.
Bow Down
The Malignaggi’s pulled up outside La Societa where they found two of the thugs from earlier tending the door. Alessandra swept her shawl across her shoulders and stepped out, each step of her boots echoing with a lonely resonance across the concrete. Joey watched as she approached them, the screaming and banging from the trunk was as loud as ever now; Joey steadied himself and exited the car.
The two thugs were joined by another two as Alessandra instructed them to bring the two Don’s inside. She turned to Joey.
Alessandra: Would you like a drink?
Joey: Uhh I don’t think it’s the-
She took his hand and led him inside, what Joey had left last week as a run-down derelict relic had been completely overhauled. From the lighting and sound systems to the paint and flooring it was in one word: stunning. It mirrored the old ‘Societa’ so much in style but every single area had seen an upgrade. It must have taken millions, and that’s before they even reached the bar. She span round and had a girlish level of giddiness he hadn’t seen since Christian about her.
Alessandra: Surprise!
The bar had been completely restocked, everything had been stripped and replaced; it was like someone had reached into his brain and plucked out exactly what he envisioned when he first took control of the once booming night spot.
Alessandra: Ready for that drink yet?
Her tongue crept across her lips as she gave him a grin before she darted behind the bar, tracing her fingers along the wines, settling on a deep full bodied red.
Alessandra: Share a Shiraz?
Joey: Share a fucking Shiraz?
Joey was dumbfounded.
Joey: Al I don’t know what to say, I-
Alessandra: Nothing. Your smile is thanks enough.
She placed two wine glasses down and set the wine in between them as the two locked eyes once more. Joey truly was speechless, this woman, she-
-the moment was broken by panicked screams. Joey turned to see Don Vincent Colletti and Don Alessio Montolivo were being manhandled inside. Their hands had been bound and bags placed over their heads, they were kicking and screaming for something, someone, anything to help. He felt a warm soft hand on his cheek and his face was turned back to face his wife.
Alessandra: Ignore them.
She shouted toward the thugs.
Alessandra: Take them to the roof…
She smiled as Joey.
Alessandra: …and shatter their ankles.
Joey was frozen in place; it was like watching a maestro conducting the London Philharmonic to their finest concert. As the two men were dragged kicking and screaming into the elevator Alessandra simply went to pouring the wine.
Alessandra: We haven’t had much time to talk lately.
Joey: …yeah.
Alessandra: You’ve been distant, and yes, so have I. I just want to say thank you. From the bottom of my heart.
Joey: For?
Alessandra bit her bottom lip and started tracing a finger along the rim of her wine glass.
Alessandra: For doing what I couldn’t. I tried Joseph, I sent so many people, I-
Joey: For what?!
Alessandra: For avenging our son.
It was the first time she had even truly spoken about that day, the first time she had ever shown anything resembling emotion to him about it. It wasn’t tears; it wasn’t a woman on her knees broken and crying. But for Alessandra, he knew how much this meant. He pulled his wife close and kissed her on the forehead.
Alessandra: I’m sorry I was so shit. I couldn’t even help you, I couldn’t even protect you, I would have sacrificed the whole population of this city just to get the one person I love to just…
She hugged him tight.
Alessandra: …stop crying.
She wasn’t going about things the right way. Joey wiped his jacket sleeve across his eyes, this was unexpected.
Joey: It’s like you’re actually trying to be nice.
Her demeanour changed immediately, she punched him in the gut doubling him over.
Alessandra: Drink your wine.
Then her seriousness shattered with a laugh.
Alessandra: Seriously though, we have guests. It’s rude to keep them waiting.
The two clinked glasses and took a sip.
Alessandra: So on Sunday I’m going to be Mrs World Champion huh?
Joey: That’s the plan.
Alessandra: Oh suddenly humble?
She hit him in the arm. He would end up more bruised from this than the match with Price at this rate.
Joey: Please, who do you think I am? Of course you are.
Alessandra: Do you think I should buy a new dress for the occasion?
Joey: I-
Alessandra: Maybe some new Bahniks?
Joey: I think you asking me is irrelevant.
Alessandra: Yeah you’re right. I bought them already, just wanted to seem less like a bitch.
Joey laughed for the first time tonight and the pair downed the remainder of their glasses. She took him by the hand and pulled him toward the elevator.
Alessandra: Time for the main course.
They ascended in silence before the doors opened with a *ping*. The first hints of the springtime bloom were beginning in the garden, the rows of flowers to each side were beginning to bud upward. The pair walked toward the small courtyard where the four thugs were awaiting. Their two captives had been tied to a pair of chairs, and from the blood pooled around their feet their ankles had indeed been shattered. Alessandra addressed the goons.
Alessandra: Leave us.
Goon: But Mrs Ma-
Alessandra: Leave.
The goons did her bidding without further quarrel, leaving just her, Joey, Alessio and Vincent on the rooftop. She grabbed the bags from both men’s heads and yanked them free. Their faces were swollen and battered, almost unrecognisable. She turned toward the office at the far end of the roof and slowly walked away leaving the three men. They tried to talk and plead through muffled speech, Joey addressed them.
Joey: See ain’t it funny. This was your dream scenario here. This is what you two had thought up all along, we three would be on this rooftop, but instead it would be me battered, bruised and begging. How does it feel?
The two men tried to respond.
Joey: It’s sickening. You try to move onto my turf like I’m nothing, what am I to you people? A joke? Ha ha. Come on guys it’s funny right? I’m funny, right? Laugh. You.
He pointed at Alessio before cracking him with a right hand.
Joey: Laugh.
Alessio began to pitifully attempt a laugh before Joey slapped him once more, shouting in his ear.
Joey: Who is the funny motherfucker now?! You people come to MY city trying to creep on MY business and then think there won’t be consequences. Your people won’t understand that, and that’s great, because unlike you weak soft bellied fucks I LIVE for war.
His speech was greeted by claps from behind the two men. Stood behind them were Alessandra and Bernardo Allegri.
Bernardo: See Vince, Alessio, I didn’t make a mistake with this one did I? Joseph. Here is my belated wedding gift for you.
He nodded to his daughter who produced the silenced pistol once more, resting it on the back of Alessio’s head.
Bernardo: Connecticut.
Alessandra fired, slumping Alessio Montolivo’s head forward as his brain matter scattered on the floor at his feet. Vincent screamed as Alessandra placed the gun on the back of his head.
Bernardo: New Jersey.
Another shot, another splashed painting of gore across the floor. The only sound left was the slow dripping of lifeblood to the concrete and the street noise from street level below.
Joey: I-
Bernardo: Earned it.
Joey: Wh-
Bernardo: You protected as many people as you could during the wedding massacre, you destroyed the thing that killed my grandchild, you showed more than your share then and-
Joey wasn’t waiting around. Show dominance, show power.
Joey: What about New York?
Bernardo stared at a moment before breaking into a smile and striding toward him.
Bernardo: The meeting tonight did have the most powerful person in New York there, Alessandra was just there as a plant. You said it yourself.
He put his arm around his son in law and the pair looked out toward the dazzling skyline.
Bernardo: It’s YOUR city.
Joey smiled inwardly.
Joey: Oh I know.
He smiled outwardly.
Joey: Just wanted to make sure you knew it too.
Alessandra broke into a laugh as she was beginning the clean-up of the two former bosses.
Joey: Al.
Alessandra looked up at him as he began to walk toward the elevator. He didn’t even so much as look back.
Joey: I’ll be back with the world.
