Post by Zombie DankMorris on May 26, 2016 20:01:41 GMT -5
RP1
WCF – Slam
David Sanchez
vs.
Zombie McMorris
__________________________
Chapter 1: David Wahh-Chez LOL
When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: David Sanchez and a ride home. It was a bright cold day in may, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
#Jimmydean #Jimmydean
In that five and dime way.
“ Ishy baby” Cooed my gal Friday. My bitches, they call me Ishmael. Because as it stands I am an invisible man; born with a gift and the sense that the world was mad. It must be because even the damn Jungle Book in 3-D couldn’t wipe away the the half hearted snarky bullshit that is David Sanchez.
Pft.
David “ Mr. 2 week run –and done” Sanchez. LOL, now that’s a fuckin name. Tryin to hit me up on twitter and shit like he’s about to pop off for the sake of poppin off but ain’t no matter but for him to be limpin off just the same. Just the same, just the same. Maybe he is here to right the wrongs of the past, to show the world that he ain’t skin flake off the scalp of greater men who’ve sweat and bled and given themselves to a cause worth givin it for. But Sanchez.. up and fucked off three times in a year and I’m suppose to be put on notice for a man who left the building because his free soup even had a chance to get cold? LOL Nah, Ol’ Z ain’t going down like that.
Me and Friday hitched our way down the road back behind some forgotten industrial mills that used to make cotton and cloth and I think one of them used to make brake pads. Callahan’s- or sum shit. I mean like, this was a run down and forgotten part of town the same way that David Sanchez is a run down, forgotten piece of shit. The last time he did anything, it was WAR of last year. And like these mills, there are some folks that would like to see them turned into condos for living and like. Too bad, to live, you gotta die – Am I right?
Maybe that’s what Sanchez has been doing for the past eight damn months? Probably practicing his twitter banter in front of the Mirror as that bitch manager Lady Knives sucked the locker rooms dicks in rapid succession.
I walked in the cloak of my leather jacket as Friday skipped and waddled her way along for self amusement in a torn black skirt and one of those shirts with the thin straps on the shoulders; it was lime green. Friday wasn’t my bitch before the movie but at 9 AM on a Thursday morning, there ain’t no one watching the Jungle Book except me and her.. and her mouth on my cawk.
Oh and David Sanchez twitter lips. He had to fight for space. Guessin’ he don’t like that too much, now do he?
Now do HE, David?
LOL
I strike up my crack pipe and wax a little more on that goon known as David Sanchez. David Sanchez, eight months and he wants to come back like he never left. Nig, you never even stepped foot through the door. Now you wana throw rocks at windows like some ten year old faggot with his pants down to his azz and his cap all backwards like some krizz krozz mother fucker. Maybe he wants to come back into this world kicking and screaming covered in someone elses blood. Because he’s a mad man like that.
No. No you arnt David. You’re not Mad. And you’re not a man.
Your just a rabid little fuck boi who cant wait for the fuckin’ to start. You’re even primed and ready, that’s why you tried to k-k-k-umm up at me on twitter.
Kicking. Screaming. And covered in blood.
I’ve left the world like that. Being dragged away from the battle field before a solider stabs me through the heart. Get the breath sucked out cha face.
That’s your return.
How about you wanting to come back in a blaze of glory.
I left this world in fire before. Three times.
The first was the worst. You know that fire, it don’t play around. And you don’t die either. You get to watch your gimmick smolder from your feet to your chest. THEN maybe you die.
The second time I had a capsule of poison between my teeth, so that ended quickly.
The third, well.. I was already the Coked Up Mad Man you see before you and I toked my own ashes.
So that’s how David wants to go. In fire. In glory! Well lets go, David.
Lets step into that fire. You, an unproven green horn that has more ink on his pink slip than he does on his actual contract. I have more shower time than you have match time. I mean, have you even won a title? I’ve won eight. Let me throw that in your face. A fact that you will never achieve. I have done things in WCF; things of real substance that you will never achieve. But you’re going to kum up in here with your NERD gimmick and try and throw me through the machine.
good. Fucking. Luck.
Your best days are behind you. As in they’ve happened -> as in they weren’t in the Dub. - > You haven’t even had days up in the Dub. You can be like:
“ Shit who are all these new ppl”
Nig LOL who the fuck are you?
You’re David Sanchez, the dude whose going to get busted up and broken into LIVE ON SAM! ER.. SLAM!
Call that a slip of the tongue just as much as you re-signing was a slip of the pen.
intentionally un-intentional.
But we can go there. We can go there in the height of the height at that noon shit. We can go there as Friday walks behind me in with her bruised legs and feet and chucks that hold up for days.
Just like you and the rest of the fucking roster.
Get behind greatness because as much as you pretend. I am. As much as you envision, I am that vision. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I am the straight up bodyin’ embodiment of this company.
That scares all of you. It scares you that I’m brilliant. It scares you that I’m lazy. I’m a fucking time bomb ready to go off at any time.
Too bad I ain’t got time for you, David.
Sunday Night I’m going to screw you overlike a Game of Thrones plot point.
You can be Sanza.
And this our black Wedding
LOL
Faggot.
WCF – Slam
David Sanchez
vs.
Zombie McMorris
__________________________
Chapter 1: David Wahh-Chez LOL
When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: David Sanchez and a ride home. It was a bright cold day in may, and the clocks were striking thirteen.
#Jimmydean #Jimmydean
In that five and dime way.
“ Ishy baby” Cooed my gal Friday. My bitches, they call me Ishmael. Because as it stands I am an invisible man; born with a gift and the sense that the world was mad. It must be because even the damn Jungle Book in 3-D couldn’t wipe away the the half hearted snarky bullshit that is David Sanchez.
Pft.
David “ Mr. 2 week run –and done” Sanchez. LOL, now that’s a fuckin name. Tryin to hit me up on twitter and shit like he’s about to pop off for the sake of poppin off but ain’t no matter but for him to be limpin off just the same. Just the same, just the same. Maybe he is here to right the wrongs of the past, to show the world that he ain’t skin flake off the scalp of greater men who’ve sweat and bled and given themselves to a cause worth givin it for. But Sanchez.. up and fucked off three times in a year and I’m suppose to be put on notice for a man who left the building because his free soup even had a chance to get cold? LOL Nah, Ol’ Z ain’t going down like that.
Me and Friday hitched our way down the road back behind some forgotten industrial mills that used to make cotton and cloth and I think one of them used to make brake pads. Callahan’s- or sum shit. I mean like, this was a run down and forgotten part of town the same way that David Sanchez is a run down, forgotten piece of shit. The last time he did anything, it was WAR of last year. And like these mills, there are some folks that would like to see them turned into condos for living and like. Too bad, to live, you gotta die – Am I right?
Maybe that’s what Sanchez has been doing for the past eight damn months? Probably practicing his twitter banter in front of the Mirror as that bitch manager Lady Knives sucked the locker rooms dicks in rapid succession.
I walked in the cloak of my leather jacket as Friday skipped and waddled her way along for self amusement in a torn black skirt and one of those shirts with the thin straps on the shoulders; it was lime green. Friday wasn’t my bitch before the movie but at 9 AM on a Thursday morning, there ain’t no one watching the Jungle Book except me and her.. and her mouth on my cawk.
Oh and David Sanchez twitter lips. He had to fight for space. Guessin’ he don’t like that too much, now do he?
Now do HE, David?
LOL
I strike up my crack pipe and wax a little more on that goon known as David Sanchez. David Sanchez, eight months and he wants to come back like he never left. Nig, you never even stepped foot through the door. Now you wana throw rocks at windows like some ten year old faggot with his pants down to his azz and his cap all backwards like some krizz krozz mother fucker. Maybe he wants to come back into this world kicking and screaming covered in someone elses blood. Because he’s a mad man like that.
No. No you arnt David. You’re not Mad. And you’re not a man.
Your just a rabid little fuck boi who cant wait for the fuckin’ to start. You’re even primed and ready, that’s why you tried to k-k-k-umm up at me on twitter.
Kicking. Screaming. And covered in blood.
I’ve left the world like that. Being dragged away from the battle field before a solider stabs me through the heart. Get the breath sucked out cha face.
That’s your return.
How about you wanting to come back in a blaze of glory.
I left this world in fire before. Three times.
The first was the worst. You know that fire, it don’t play around. And you don’t die either. You get to watch your gimmick smolder from your feet to your chest. THEN maybe you die.
The second time I had a capsule of poison between my teeth, so that ended quickly.
The third, well.. I was already the Coked Up Mad Man you see before you and I toked my own ashes.
So that’s how David wants to go. In fire. In glory! Well lets go, David.
Lets step into that fire. You, an unproven green horn that has more ink on his pink slip than he does on his actual contract. I have more shower time than you have match time. I mean, have you even won a title? I’ve won eight. Let me throw that in your face. A fact that you will never achieve. I have done things in WCF; things of real substance that you will never achieve. But you’re going to kum up in here with your NERD gimmick and try and throw me through the machine.
good. Fucking. Luck.
Your best days are behind you. As in they’ve happened -> as in they weren’t in the Dub. - > You haven’t even had days up in the Dub. You can be like:
“ Shit who are all these new ppl”
Nig LOL who the fuck are you?
You’re David Sanchez, the dude whose going to get busted up and broken into LIVE ON SAM! ER.. SLAM!
Call that a slip of the tongue just as much as you re-signing was a slip of the pen.
intentionally un-intentional.
But we can go there. We can go there in the height of the height at that noon shit. We can go there as Friday walks behind me in with her bruised legs and feet and chucks that hold up for days.
Just like you and the rest of the fucking roster.
Get behind greatness because as much as you pretend. I am. As much as you envision, I am that vision. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I am the straight up bodyin’ embodiment of this company.
That scares all of you. It scares you that I’m brilliant. It scares you that I’m lazy. I’m a fucking time bomb ready to go off at any time.
Too bad I ain’t got time for you, David.
Sunday Night I’m going to screw you overlike a Game of Thrones plot point.
You can be Sanza.
And this our black Wedding
LOL
Faggot.