JoeJoe's Bizarre Adventure Part IV: Diamond is Unbreakable
Oct 16, 2016 16:27:36 GMT -5
FPV, Lilith, and 4 more like this
Post by Joey Flash on Oct 16, 2016 16:27:36 GMT -5
♥Inside Joey's World♦
August 1st, 2016
His second birthday - he got a go kart. He had wanted a go kart.
The Christmas where he snuck down at half four in the morning to see if Santa had been, only to see daddy in the kitchen still wrapping presents.
His first day of school.
His first kiss
His first job
His first blowjob
The first time he got laid
Joining the Allegri Foundation
Meeting Alessandra Malignaggi.
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi.
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi
The homeless disgusting man in the chair.
Ben Fletcher had let this punch go with no worries, he saw the man trespassing and defiling his lovers home and he was going to clean up the mess. As the right hand whistled through the air it was at that moment he finally realised the situation he was in. The bum turned his gaze on Benjamin Fletcher and in one single solitary millisecond all his life, his experiences and his emotions were reduced to categorical terror. He was no longer in control of his body as he saw thebum man god slowly and achingly raise a hand toward him and speak in a soft labouring broken whisper.
Joey: You’re in my world now.
Joseph r-
♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣
*INTERMISSION ANNOUNCEMENT*
Joey Flash is for no reason sat in the middle of a fucking rainforest, a tree frog sat on his noggin and a mosquito orbiting it.
Joey: Whoa whoa whoa hold up slick. We ain’t giving away this A+ material for free motherfuckers. What, you thought I was going to waste this shit on you faggots? Nah. This is what you are worth:
So for the rest of this promo, I’m just going to beat the shit out of some clowns. Ciao.
♥Beep Beep Richie♦
Present Day
Joseph Malignaggi had a doctorate in beating the shit out of clowns. He had destroyed Gemini Battle enough times to be the world’s pre-eminent clown batterer. It was a cross he had to bear. (The cross Thomas Bates had to bear was already on fire on Steve Orbit’s lawn, but that’s a tale for another day!) Though that said, it was never a talent that he had expected would be of use to anyone else in the world. That all changed on the Saturday 15th of October 2016 when he received a hand delivered telegram that was thrust into his palm by a sweaty weird little floppy haired shit facial haired chap with a name badge that read “Hey! Your Telegram Deliverer today was MICHAEL. Call xxx-xxx-xxx if I did a good job!”
Joseph phoned immediately.
Joey: That little geek did a fucking terrible job. You should fire him immediately, he offers nothing to your company and has a small dick.
Phone operative: Wait, how do you know he has a small dick?
Joey: I sucked it. How else do you think?
This conversation didn’t happen. In fact Joseph gave a glowing review of the dapper young man.
Joey: It was delivered.
There is a reason Joey was such an amazing contributor to the Amazon.com review section. He had the gold star and everything, in fact he was gaining prominence as ‘YUNG EBERT’ in the online reviewing community. But that’s not the point in hand, you remember that telegram that was delivered. Well it read, and I quote (literally):
Help clowns stop South Carolina? Joey mused on this for a moment, what did South Carolina do to clowns that was such an egregious crime that a group of uprising resistance clowns were going to lead the fight against the lolocaust attempting Fourth Reich of GOVERNOR HALEY? He didn’t know right now, but dammit he was going to find out.
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Joseph had got it wrong. He had damn near snuffed that bitch Nikki Haley before she had informed him through shocked tears that she wanted him to beat the shit out of some stupidniggers clowns.
Joey had to set a trap to lure the clowns, it was his greatest machination yet. He signed up to Amazon Prime and ordered several hundred balloons. After 16 hours of YouTube tutorials Joey had crafted an alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. A gust of wind however swept up the balloon sculpture and it landed with a squidgy thud on the roof of a nearby store.
Joey ordered several hundred balloons and after 16 hours of YouTube tutorials he had crafted an even more alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. It was that lifelike in fact, that a moth, who was celebrating its birthday that day, landed on the shoulder of the sculpture and decided to have some birthday indulgence. It sank its little fangs into the shoulder and was reduced to dust as the balloon exploded. The entire structural integrity of the sculpture gave in and balloons whizzed and whistled about in all directions.
Joey ordered several hundred balloons and after 16 hours of YouTube tutorials he had crafted an even more alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. No wind or celebratory moths this time. Joey turned around with great drama as he heard a “toot toot”. He looked around in all directions but was unable to see the source of the whimsical sound. But then he looked to the ground and saw a small, red and yellow wind up car come to a stop about twenty feet away.
The little door opened and out stepped the first large oversized red shoe, then another, then another, it was a veritable cascade of floppy haired, red nosed, colourfully and ornately dressed wacky clowns. By now twenty of the fuckers had emerged from the car, Joey watched in awe.
Joey: How…
The final clown stepped free of its delightful car and proceeded to wrench the bonnet upward and in a series of moves that were even too fast for Joey’s hawk like vision he had managed to change the automobile into a briefcase. The battle lines were drawn, on one side of the street stood the multi time World Champion; on the other side stood twenty one of the most wacky lovable comic creatures in existence. Known in the modern lexicon as ‘scary killer child raper molester sex pest clown’ or as Joey called them ‘Logans’.
The clowns that had been terrorising the world for the past month have been a true menace to society. Forget the strife and turmoil in Syria and the constant Boko Haram massacres, it’s all about the clowns and the presidential election. Clowns and the presidential election are not mutually exclusive. However now was the time for the clown menace to be put to an end forever. Joey took a step forward and addressed the group.
Joey: LISTEN HERE-
Before Joey could even finish his sentence, the first challenger emerged. A large rather jovial clown, this mischief making menace had a scary ‘fanged clown’ mask on, however Joey could only notice as the man waddled toward him that there seemed to be truly something sinister about his gait. The clown was close to Flash now and in one movement that proved to be too fast for even Joey to counter produced a pistol from his oversized baggy pants. The clown raised the pistol toward Joey and didn’t even hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
*BANG*
The flag dropped from the end of the gun as the clown chortled at the wincing Joey Flash.
Clown: Got heem!!!!!
Joey had already palmed his Glock 18 and whipped it free from his belt and pressed it against the clown’s horrified chin.
*BANG*
The clown’s brains dropped from the remnants of his skull as Joey stared at the twitching, dead clown.
Joey: Got heem!!!!!!!!!!!
As the twenty remaining clowns watched in horror at their fallen brethren they found their resolve and in one resounding chorus a chilling cacophony of jovial ‘BEEP BEEP’ rang through the chill air. The clowns were beginning their charge. Twenty waddling feet ambled slowly toward Joseph, one wielding a comic inflatable hammer, another with a foam finger that reads ‘#clownlivesmatter’. The two converged on Joey, the foam hand whipped across his face as the hammer simultaneously crashed down on his skull. Joseph stared at the two attackers in bemusement before smashing MC Hammer in the face with a right hand and then brutally felling Foamy McHanderson with a left hook.
Joey: Come, send in the clowns!
One after the other they charged, one after the other they were felled. The clown corpses lay silent, until one of them started chuckling, cackling maniacally, and then another, and then another until all of them were laughing in a horrific unison that sounded like a skipping record. They then all got to their feet, rising as if strings were attached to their joints from a puppeteer in the sky.
Joey: Oh fucking hell
Joey then glared up at the sky. The legion of clowns all looked up to and started laughing hysterically.
Random Clown: The King of Clowns is here!! Lol!
From the clouds dropped a clown with a rainbow coloured parachute with a big yellow smile on it. He landed on the ground and Joey uttered a single, mono-syllabic word which identified this para-clown
Joey: Grime
ClownGrime: ROFL
Grime, adorned with a painted Donald Trump mask puffed his chest out and began laughing.
ClownGrime: BWAWAWAWAWA
ZEHAHAHAHAHA
DEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
Why so glum Joe?
You must be fuckin dumb Joe!
I might be Grime but you’re fuckin scum Joe!
This is your last chance, better run Joe!
Joey: Fuck off, Grime.
With a single punch Grime is sent flying fifty seven and a half feet into the air before plummeting face first onto the concrete. His landing was akin to a human sized piece of whale shit plopping onto the floor, but instead of human offal spraying all over the street, exploding out of his corpse were several thousand skittles. Joey picks a handful up and shovels it into his gob.
Joey: Taste the rainbow bitch. Ugh. Tastes like faggot.
Random Clown: HA HA you know what faggot tastes like!!!!!
Joey walked up to the clown and grabbed his big red nose, in one swift movement he ripped it off as if it was a plaster. He grabbed the clown by the forehead and throat and aimed the jet of, for some reason, green slime from where his nose was at the other clowns. The slime started to melt the clowns down. For some reason they found this hilarious until they were all reduced to a rainbow coloured pool of goo on the ground. It was over, the clowns resembled Ivan Ooze.
Joey: Finally!
Or not. The goo then started to accumulate and gather in the centre of the pool. It started to rise up and slowly take a humanoid form, first a head, then the arms and lastly the legs. The rainbow colour faded and we then see that the clowns have fused to form:
(Imagine this shit was a Legend of Zelda game, with the little text that appears when a fuck off boss reveals itself)
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: LIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Joey: Uhh…
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: WE ARE NOT FUCKING JUGGALOS...WE JUST LIKE TO WEAR EVERY CULTURAL ACCESSORY AND ALL PARAPHERNALIA REGARDING THIS SUBCULTURE TO THE POINT OF NAMING OURSELVES AFTER VARIOUS ARTISTS AND SONGS EURGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Joey: Calm the fuck down bro.
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: I WILL DESTROY YOU, YOU FUCKING WETBACK!!!!
Joey: At least get it right. WOP, DAGO, SPAGHETTI MUNCHER, fucking anything but tha-
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: LISTEN YOU FRESH OFF THE BOAT IMMIGRANT PREPARE TO DIE!
Joey: I thought you were supposed to be clowns.
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!
Joey: Fuck off you weird bastard.
The clowns shattered and flew in a multitude of directions crashing through windows and slamming into walls. Joseph stood amongst a veritable circus wasteland as he studied the remnants of the killer clown craze.
Joey: Well, War didn’t go quite like you thought it would did it?
Joseph smiles and basks in the post orgasmic clown destroying glow.
Joey: I told you that I was going to only end one way. It ended as it started: completely under my control. I told you then, non-believers, I am the best wrestler in the world. I win every match I am ever a participant in. War was fifty vs Joey Flash and the odds were still completely in my favour. My dominance, my superiority, my godhood in that squared circle is never shaken. There is not a man alive who can stand in that ring with me as an equal and the closest people to that in the wrestling business now stand under-
He corrects himself quickly.
Alongside me atop the federation. This is not a threat this is a promise - we will have swept this federation clean by the time One is finished; the cleansing began its first marches at War and we continue our siege of the Ostfront this week and into the depths of October. Now this Hellimination business is starting and we have The Brotherhood and Zero Tolerance - two completely warring factions being forced to set aside their animosity to fend off the all sweeping colossus that is Pantheon. Whatever you bring, it won’t be enough, it won’t nearly be enough. Every man in Pantheon is better than your best, considerably so, this may be the first Hellimination match in WCF history to be a complete clean sweep. So this week we begin the assault against one of the ‘leaders’ of this alliance in Adrian Archer.
Archer. ‘You have my attention’.
I guess even I make mistakes sometimes, I mean holy shit - you joined ZT and in one fell swoop ruined any individuality, personality and intrigue that you had. Attention well and truly revoked. You went from someone I was going to personally keep an eye on, someone whose career I was going to track to just another faggot. It makes me sad, you could have been anyone man. You could have been Dan Van fucking Slade bro…
EL TAIMADO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I lie, you’re far too shit. What’s up Archer, you talked such a big game heading into War; you were the one taking the fight to me more than anyone else and yet what happened? You constantly mocked and pushed Balfore and all you did was piss off one of the best in history to the level where he broke the War elimination record. You might not be a good wrestler but my god you’re a brilliant motivational speaker. Just having you around as an enemy elevates anyone you’re facing into like a super human version of themselves. Sadly this doesn’t work with deities or I’d be begging for that Archer boost. You turned yourself into the butt of a fucking joke, you are Scarecrow throwing away everything he was to join the last abortion of Omegatheon, taking something that had all the potential in the world and turning into a dried up husk of uniqueness that used to exist.
You are a fucking plebeian. I mean I would try to coach you, you magnificent bastard, but you’re too stupid; you really have no idea what it takes to exist above mid card level. It showed at War, it showed with your decision making in joining Zero Tolerance and it will show again on Slam after you try to step to Joey Flash again, and get put down - again. I can’t help but feel even that won’t humble you. It doesn’t matter how many times I destroy you, you’re the type of hapless fool who will never learn from his mistakes. Well let me make it completely clear in the ring the difference between us, the difference between Pantheon and Zero Tolerance and have you cursing the day you threw away your chance at being something different and exciting just to be ‘accepted’ you self loathing, unloved and emotionally malnourished cunt.
I don’t even understand what Zero Tolerance is. You fuckers will have to educate me on this, I don’t care enough to find out myself so like, you’re all part of like a conglomerate run by some dude who was probably shit at wrestling if he was even a wrestler and he has one big team called ‘Zero Tolerance’ that he sends to various federations? Am I right? Do I even care? That’s the version I’m going with anyway. So like what’s the deal with this? Are there more of you guys out there? Are there like a billion juggalos in random federations across the world repping ZITI BITCHES!!!! Before getting absolutely served and sent packing like a set of bitches, you’re like fuckin Team Rocket at this point. Why do you even exist? So you won the Trios titles? Great fucking job.
Those belts were my possession. Those belts were held by Dune, Howard Black and I before we had to relinquish that shit. If you had to go through us to get that gold? You’d be six feet deep already and shit, I’m feeling like I should start digging the plot for you already. Crazy J. You are an absolute fucking imbecile. Like an absolute Grade A idiot. I watch you wrestle and I have no idea what the fuck I am watching, you’re so disjointed and all over the place. Are you sixteen or sixty? Are you naive or have the early onset of alzheimers, I can’t read you at all. Granted, I got to page one that said ‘Crazy J is a faggot’ and I stopped that shit right there.
Crazy J - let’s talk. Who the fuck are you? Like what’s your schtick? Every week you whine bitch and complain ‘BU-BU-STOP CALLING US JUGGALOS AND CLOWNS’ motherfucker…
Joey looks around at all the fallen clowns.
Joey: That’s ALL you are. You have absolutely nothing else to your personality. You are a one dimensional joke of a wrestler. I don’t know where you and Salem stop and begin, you’re essentially two completely interchangeable random dudes who wear face paint and try to be edgy. I don’t understand what the fuck you’re even doing with your career, I don’t think you know. Grow a personality fuckwad. It makes me sad to watch you as Hardcore Champion, this belt used to be such a hot commodity here, it used to be the belt only the most dedicated elites could win and defend. Wrestlers who would be able to go toe to toe for as long as is humanly possible in the most fiendish of environments but now? It’s like a play date in a ball pit with tickling rather than punching. You’ve fucking ruined this title...no I lie, this title has been dead for well over a year. You think you’re elevating this shit? You think you’re somewhat credible? God it will be a delight to show you how totally wrong and out of your depth you are at One once we win Hellimination.
Tips for Crazy J to succeed further in WCF:
- Know yourself
- Actually have a personality and something for fans to gravitate towards rather than trying to be every nineties kid’s bedroom poster for five months of a shitty phase that they will actively avoid trying to ever tell anyone about.
(I wonder if Michael the telegram boy had this problem?)
Scratch that, just kill yourself
Tagging along with FrEeKEekeShOW is Jason Cash. This is another motherfucker who I just don’t understand. Why on earth do you hang around with this group of people? I mean you couldn’t be any different; at least the people I associate with I know are selfish self serving cunts so we are like kindred spirits, but you? You’re a drunken redneck hanging out with Juggalos. You are the outcast of your group, it’s almost like they hired Archer just so you wouldn’t feel alone in not being a total faggot. Which you’re not Cash, don’t worry, you’re not a total faggot, just a standard run of the mill faggot. I think that might be even worse. Feel bad about yourself. You should.
I have to ask a quick question though, what does three billion dollars look like? I wish I knew. I’ve never seen such an abundance of currency, it’s enough to make me feel a little bad about myself - I mean you guys aren’t just rich, you’re wealthy. What does three billion look like in Zero Tolerance world? Apparently not enough to buy for a bath a shave and a comb you fucking hobo. You’re a good ol’ countreh boi who luvs him sum wrasslin - yet you’re also a fucking super billionaire. How the fuck does this even work? I can suspend my disbelief for a second for Omega and Battle but you? I mean, I have a good imagination but Shakespeare on DMT couldn’t even conjure that shit up. Fuck being rich, you look like you have the kind of mouth that’s made his horse real happy over the years.
Which is the more likely scenario?
- Jason Cash and ZT are multi-billionaires
- Jason Cash's brain that has been warped and damaged by the syphilitic onset of hallucination and schizophrenia, you know, the one where ZT aren’t Juggalos who cut themselves to take the pain away while jerking into their crusty sock listening to My Chemical Romance while taking double hits of Acid laced hash from a bong made from a tampon that was plucked from a rotting prostitute's cunt.
It’s a joke; you Cash, are a joke. Every single thing that slides from your slack jawed lips is an assault to my sensibilities as a professional wrestler. This isn’t a game of name calling and childish antics, this is a blood sport. It’s a sport you aren’t conditioned for and a sport in which I rule above all and everything in this world. I’m going to win this week, and I’m going to win at Helloween. It’s not a case of whether ‘you did alright’; you can do incredibly and straight up think you’re going trash Pantheon. Who knows, maybe your team will surprise us and the incredible coallition will end up surviving and defeating a couple of members of Pantheon. Shock and awe. Then you will look into the opposition corner and see Joey Flash stepping through the ropes.
At that point right there, you, I, everyone watching will know that the match is over. I am insurmountable here, in this realm I am supreme over anything and everything. Keep thinking that I got lucky, I won by fluke or that I won because ‘I HAD MORE (OH BATMAN) PREP TIME’ from not competing leading into War. After Slam this week you will know the true horror of what you have gotten yourselves into. There are some doors you shouldn’t open, and that mistake is going to cost you absolutely everything.
First stage of the assault: commence.
Three bodybags on deck, you’re finished.
♠Shadow of the Colossus♣
October 2nd 2016
Joey Flash had won war. As Joseph Malignaggi walked through the masses of humanity; each fans outreaching hand yearning for a touch of the messiah, he realised what a big moment this was. He had won War, this was no longer a plan, this was no longer a dream - this was reality. Joey had finally thrown his hat into one of the big WCF showcases.
‘Only the best win War!’
‘You’re a Hall of Famer if you win War and a World Title!’
‘Main event One!’
He had never doubted the outcome. Smiling to each adoring fan as he reached the top of the entrance ramp two duelling chants broke out across the Madison Square Garden crowd.
JOEY / PANTH / FLASH / EON / JOEY / PANTH / FLASH / EON
In one night he had turned the wrestling business upside down, Imperium was one thing but this? This? This was the greatest collection of talent the business had ever seen. No, not just that. The shadow that had been hanging over him since he first stepped through the curtain here was well and truly upon him now. This was Pantheon.
It’s like this was how it was meant to be huh? Joey Flash and Pantheon had been a match that was almost destined to happen, the signs had been there from the start, the history had been too great and too strong. Pantheon was the greatest stable in the history of the WCF, it was at its prime when it had a ~*say his name*~ strong leader. When it had a man leading from the front and dominating all ~*leader of Pantheon huh*~ in front of them.
Flash had been cast in the shadow of one Pantheonic ghost since his debut ~*you really are the next *REDACTED**~ and it was becoming painfully apparent that this victory, here in their home town had only solidified the fact further. He was to rule atop the wrestling, he was to sit the throne, he had the greatest record in the history of the business, he was a lock for the WCF Hall of Fame yet, why did everything feel so...hollow?
Waiting for him as he stepped back through the curtain was a face he hadn’t seen for some time - Hank Brown.
Hank: HI JOE JOE! CONGRATULATIONS!
Joey: Thanks, Hank. But I-
Hank: -am contractually obligated to partake in this post match interview that’s correct!
Joey: Fuck.
Hank: We are live across the world and there are many children watching so-
Joey: Santa isn’t real.
Hank: …
Joey: Let’s get on with this, you’re going to ask me shit like: ‘How does it feel to be back in the ring after so long and to perform at such a high level in such an intense environment’? Right?
Hank: Actually…
He glances at his cue cards.
Hank: It was ‘How do you feel about winning?’ But yours was better.
Joey: I feel ~*unsatisfied/angry/frustrated*~ great Hank, to come back like this after such a long layoff and to be just as sharp as when I left is a blessing to my camp, my management and to the team I have behind me. I did this for them.
Hank: And-
Joey: No. That’s a lie.
Don’t talk about it.Don’t cry
Joey: I dedicate this victory to my son, Christian.
His throat tightened and his eyes welled, it was too late. Some poker player you are Joe.
Joey: Everything I did last year, and again...and again tonight it’s for you little buddy. I’m gonna bring you one hell of a Christmas present ya hear? I’m coming home with everything. For good this time. I-I…
He motions toward Hank to take over as Joey collects himself.
Hank: You okay to continue?
Joey: Yeah, give me a second...okay, yo, how much longer?
Hank: Two.
Joey: Aight, go.
Hank: Tonight you performed a huge coup by securing the most preeminent wrestlers in the world to join you in the reformation of WCF’s most storied franchise, Pantheon. How did you do it?
Joey: Have you ever promised someone the world? Well what happens when the world is not enough? I’m not here as a leader ~*he wasn’t the ‘leader’ either*~, I am here to fight on the front lines as a figurehead and as a role model. I am the role model for excellence and for consistency in this business. No one brings it week after week after week like I do, no one hits the heights in the ring that I do. There is a reason my name is synonymous with success, and that right there is the reason why these people have gravitated toward me. I’ve been in life or death wars with almost all of them and every single one has fought in a way that astounded me, that pushed me to my very limits. I’ve forever been a loner, I never needed help, I never needed friends. Every alliance I ever formed has been for my own benefit entirely but this? This is to serve one mistress only: the business of professional wrestling.
Hank: So; you’ve had the dominant rookie year, you had the even more dominant sophomoric year and now you’re the head of Pantheon leading them into the next generation after being a War winner, I think the prophecy has been truly fulfilled Joe-
~*Don’t…
The next
...his fucking name.~*
Jonny Fly.
August 1st, 2016
His second birthday - he got a go kart. He had wanted a go kart.
The Christmas where he snuck down at half four in the morning to see if Santa had been, only to see daddy in the kitchen still wrapping presents.
His first day of school.
His first kiss
His first job
His first blowjob
The first time he got laid
Joining the Allegri Foundation
Meeting Alessandra Malignaggi.
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi.
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi
Fucking Alessandra Malignaggi
The homeless disgusting man in the chair.
Ben Fletcher had let this punch go with no worries, he saw the man trespassing and defiling his lovers home and he was going to clean up the mess. As the right hand whistled through the air it was at that moment he finally realised the situation he was in. The bum turned his gaze on Benjamin Fletcher and in one single solitary millisecond all his life, his experiences and his emotions were reduced to categorical terror. He was no longer in control of his body as he saw the
Joey: You’re in my world now.
Joseph r-
♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣♦♠♥♣
*INTERMISSION ANNOUNCEMENT*
Joey Flash is for no reason sat in the middle of a fucking rainforest, a tree frog sat on his noggin and a mosquito orbiting it.
Joey: Whoa whoa whoa hold up slick. We ain’t giving away this A+ material for free motherfuckers. What, you thought I was going to waste this shit on you faggots? Nah. This is what you are worth:
I HAVE A FAGGOT
I HAVE A FAGGOT
UGH
Zero Tolerance.
I HAVE A FAGGOT
UGH
Zero Tolerance.
So for the rest of this promo, I’m just going to beat the shit out of some clowns. Ciao.
♥Beep Beep Richie♦
Present Day
Joseph Malignaggi had a doctorate in beating the shit out of clowns. He had destroyed Gemini Battle enough times to be the world’s pre-eminent clown batterer. It was a cross he had to bear. (The cross Thomas Bates had to bear was already on fire on Steve Orbit’s lawn, but that’s a tale for another day!) Though that said, it was never a talent that he had expected would be of use to anyone else in the world. That all changed on the Saturday 15th of October 2016 when he received a hand delivered telegram that was thrust into his palm by a sweaty weird little floppy haired shit facial haired chap with a name badge that read “Hey! Your Telegram Deliverer today was MICHAEL. Call xxx-xxx-xxx if I did a good job!”
Joseph phoned immediately.
Joey: That little geek did a fucking terrible job. You should fire him immediately, he offers nothing to your company and has a small dick.
Phone operative: Wait, how do you know he has a small dick?
Joey: I sucked it. How else do you think?
This conversation didn’t happen. In fact Joseph gave a glowing review of the dapper young man.
Joey: It was delivered.
There is a reason Joey was such an amazing contributor to the Amazon.com review section. He had the gold star and everything, in fact he was gaining prominence as ‘YUNG EBERT’ in the online reviewing community. But that’s not the point in hand, you remember that telegram that was delivered. Well it read, and I quote (literally):
“HELP stop CLOWNS stop SOUTH CAROLINA stop GOVERNOR HALEY stop”
Help clowns stop South Carolina? Joey mused on this for a moment, what did South Carolina do to clowns that was such an egregious crime that a group of uprising resistance clowns were going to lead the fight against the lolocaust attempting Fourth Reich of GOVERNOR HALEY? He didn’t know right now, but dammit he was going to find out.
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Joseph had got it wrong. He had damn near snuffed that bitch Nikki Haley before she had informed him through shocked tears that she wanted him to beat the shit out of some stupid
Joey had to set a trap to lure the clowns, it was his greatest machination yet. He signed up to Amazon Prime and ordered several hundred balloons. After 16 hours of YouTube tutorials Joey had crafted an alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. A gust of wind however swept up the balloon sculpture and it landed with a squidgy thud on the roof of a nearby store.
Joey ordered several hundred balloons and after 16 hours of YouTube tutorials he had crafted an even more alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. It was that lifelike in fact, that a moth, who was celebrating its birthday that day, landed on the shoulder of the sculpture and decided to have some birthday indulgence. It sank its little fangs into the shoulder and was reduced to dust as the balloon exploded. The entire structural integrity of the sculpture gave in and balloons whizzed and whistled about in all directions.
Joey ordered several hundred balloons and after 16 hours of YouTube tutorials he had crafted an even more alarmingly lifelike balloon sculpture of Governor Haley. He carried the masterpiece into the street and set it down on the ground. No wind or celebratory moths this time. Joey turned around with great drama as he heard a “toot toot”. He looked around in all directions but was unable to see the source of the whimsical sound. But then he looked to the ground and saw a small, red and yellow wind up car come to a stop about twenty feet away.
The little door opened and out stepped the first large oversized red shoe, then another, then another, it was a veritable cascade of floppy haired, red nosed, colourfully and ornately dressed wacky clowns. By now twenty of the fuckers had emerged from the car, Joey watched in awe.
Joey: How…
The final clown stepped free of its delightful car and proceeded to wrench the bonnet upward and in a series of moves that were even too fast for Joey’s hawk like vision he had managed to change the automobile into a briefcase. The battle lines were drawn, on one side of the street stood the multi time World Champion; on the other side stood twenty one of the most wacky lovable comic creatures in existence. Known in the modern lexicon as ‘scary killer child raper molester sex pest clown’ or as Joey called them ‘Logans’.
The clowns that had been terrorising the world for the past month have been a true menace to society. Forget the strife and turmoil in Syria and the constant Boko Haram massacres, it’s all about the clowns and the presidential election. Clowns and the presidential election are not mutually exclusive. However now was the time for the clown menace to be put to an end forever. Joey took a step forward and addressed the group.
Joey: LISTEN HERE-
Before Joey could even finish his sentence, the first challenger emerged. A large rather jovial clown, this mischief making menace had a scary ‘fanged clown’ mask on, however Joey could only notice as the man waddled toward him that there seemed to be truly something sinister about his gait. The clown was close to Flash now and in one movement that proved to be too fast for even Joey to counter produced a pistol from his oversized baggy pants. The clown raised the pistol toward Joey and didn’t even hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
*BANG*
The flag dropped from the end of the gun as the clown chortled at the wincing Joey Flash.
Clown: Got heem!!!!!
Joey had already palmed his Glock 18 and whipped it free from his belt and pressed it against the clown’s horrified chin.
*BANG*
The clown’s brains dropped from the remnants of his skull as Joey stared at the twitching, dead clown.
Joey: Got heem!!!!!!!!!!!
As the twenty remaining clowns watched in horror at their fallen brethren they found their resolve and in one resounding chorus a chilling cacophony of jovial ‘BEEP BEEP’ rang through the chill air. The clowns were beginning their charge. Twenty waddling feet ambled slowly toward Joseph, one wielding a comic inflatable hammer, another with a foam finger that reads ‘#clownlivesmatter’. The two converged on Joey, the foam hand whipped across his face as the hammer simultaneously crashed down on his skull. Joseph stared at the two attackers in bemusement before smashing MC Hammer in the face with a right hand and then brutally felling Foamy McHanderson with a left hook.
Joey: Come, send in the clowns!
One after the other they charged, one after the other they were felled. The clown corpses lay silent, until one of them started chuckling, cackling maniacally, and then another, and then another until all of them were laughing in a horrific unison that sounded like a skipping record. They then all got to their feet, rising as if strings were attached to their joints from a puppeteer in the sky.
Joey: Oh fucking hell
Joey then glared up at the sky. The legion of clowns all looked up to and started laughing hysterically.
Random Clown: The King of Clowns is here!! Lol!
From the clouds dropped a clown with a rainbow coloured parachute with a big yellow smile on it. He landed on the ground and Joey uttered a single, mono-syllabic word which identified this para-clown
Joey: Grime
ClownGrime: ROFL
Grime, adorned with a painted Donald Trump mask puffed his chest out and began laughing.
ClownGrime: BWAWAWAWAWA
ZEHAHAHAHAHA
DEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE
Why so glum Joe?
You must be fuckin dumb Joe!
I might be Grime but you’re fuckin scum Joe!
This is your last chance, better run Joe!
Joey: Fuck off, Grime.
With a single punch Grime is sent flying fifty seven and a half feet into the air before plummeting face first onto the concrete. His landing was akin to a human sized piece of whale shit plopping onto the floor, but instead of human offal spraying all over the street, exploding out of his corpse were several thousand skittles. Joey picks a handful up and shovels it into his gob.
Joey: Taste the rainbow bitch. Ugh. Tastes like faggot.
Random Clown: HA HA you know what faggot tastes like!!!!!
Joey walked up to the clown and grabbed his big red nose, in one swift movement he ripped it off as if it was a plaster. He grabbed the clown by the forehead and throat and aimed the jet of, for some reason, green slime from where his nose was at the other clowns. The slime started to melt the clowns down. For some reason they found this hilarious until they were all reduced to a rainbow coloured pool of goo on the ground. It was over, the clowns resembled Ivan Ooze.
Joey: Finally!
Or not. The goo then started to accumulate and gather in the centre of the pool. It started to rise up and slowly take a humanoid form, first a head, then the arms and lastly the legs. The rainbow colour faded and we then see that the clowns have fused to form:
(Imagine this shit was a Legend of Zelda game, with the little text that appears when a fuck off boss reveals itself)
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: Clown Lord of the Faggots
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: LIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Joey: Uhh…
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: WE ARE NOT FUCKING JUGGALOS...WE JUST LIKE TO WEAR EVERY CULTURAL ACCESSORY AND ALL PARAPHERNALIA REGARDING THIS SUBCULTURE TO THE POINT OF NAMING OURSELVES AFTER VARIOUS ARTISTS AND SONGS EURGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Joey: Calm the fuck down bro.
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: I WILL DESTROY YOU, YOU FUCKING WETBACK!!!!
Joey: At least get it right. WOP, DAGO, SPAGHETTI MUNCHER, fucking anything but tha-
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: LISTEN YOU FRESH OFF THE BOAT IMMIGRANT PREPARE TO DIE!
Joey: I thought you were supposed to be clowns.
Z3R0T0L3R4NC3: RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHH!!!!
Joey: Fuck off you weird bastard.
The clowns shattered and flew in a multitude of directions crashing through windows and slamming into walls. Joseph stood amongst a veritable circus wasteland as he studied the remnants of the killer clown craze.
Joey: Well, War didn’t go quite like you thought it would did it?
Joseph smiles and basks in the post orgasmic clown destroying glow.
Joey: I told you that I was going to only end one way. It ended as it started: completely under my control. I told you then, non-believers, I am the best wrestler in the world. I win every match I am ever a participant in. War was fifty vs Joey Flash and the odds were still completely in my favour. My dominance, my superiority, my godhood in that squared circle is never shaken. There is not a man alive who can stand in that ring with me as an equal and the closest people to that in the wrestling business now stand under-
He corrects himself quickly.
Alongside me atop the federation. This is not a threat this is a promise - we will have swept this federation clean by the time One is finished; the cleansing began its first marches at War and we continue our siege of the Ostfront this week and into the depths of October. Now this Hellimination business is starting and we have The Brotherhood and Zero Tolerance - two completely warring factions being forced to set aside their animosity to fend off the all sweeping colossus that is Pantheon. Whatever you bring, it won’t be enough, it won’t nearly be enough. Every man in Pantheon is better than your best, considerably so, this may be the first Hellimination match in WCF history to be a complete clean sweep. So this week we begin the assault against one of the ‘leaders’ of this alliance in Adrian Archer.
Archer. ‘You have my attention’.
I guess even I make mistakes sometimes, I mean holy shit - you joined ZT and in one fell swoop ruined any individuality, personality and intrigue that you had. Attention well and truly revoked. You went from someone I was going to personally keep an eye on, someone whose career I was going to track to just another faggot. It makes me sad, you could have been anyone man. You could have been Dan Van fucking Slade bro…
EL TAIMADO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I lie, you’re far too shit. What’s up Archer, you talked such a big game heading into War; you were the one taking the fight to me more than anyone else and yet what happened? You constantly mocked and pushed Balfore and all you did was piss off one of the best in history to the level where he broke the War elimination record. You might not be a good wrestler but my god you’re a brilliant motivational speaker. Just having you around as an enemy elevates anyone you’re facing into like a super human version of themselves. Sadly this doesn’t work with deities or I’d be begging for that Archer boost. You turned yourself into the butt of a fucking joke, you are Scarecrow throwing away everything he was to join the last abortion of Omegatheon, taking something that had all the potential in the world and turning into a dried up husk of uniqueness that used to exist.
You are a fucking plebeian. I mean I would try to coach you, you magnificent bastard, but you’re too stupid; you really have no idea what it takes to exist above mid card level. It showed at War, it showed with your decision making in joining Zero Tolerance and it will show again on Slam after you try to step to Joey Flash again, and get put down - again. I can’t help but feel even that won’t humble you. It doesn’t matter how many times I destroy you, you’re the type of hapless fool who will never learn from his mistakes. Well let me make it completely clear in the ring the difference between us, the difference between Pantheon and Zero Tolerance and have you cursing the day you threw away your chance at being something different and exciting just to be ‘accepted’ you self loathing, unloved and emotionally malnourished cunt.
I don’t even understand what Zero Tolerance is. You fuckers will have to educate me on this, I don’t care enough to find out myself so like, you’re all part of like a conglomerate run by some dude who was probably shit at wrestling if he was even a wrestler and he has one big team called ‘Zero Tolerance’ that he sends to various federations? Am I right? Do I even care? That’s the version I’m going with anyway. So like what’s the deal with this? Are there more of you guys out there? Are there like a billion juggalos in random federations across the world repping ZITI BITCHES!!!! Before getting absolutely served and sent packing like a set of bitches, you’re like fuckin Team Rocket at this point. Why do you even exist? So you won the Trios titles? Great fucking job.
Those belts were my possession. Those belts were held by Dune, Howard Black and I before we had to relinquish that shit. If you had to go through us to get that gold? You’d be six feet deep already and shit, I’m feeling like I should start digging the plot for you already. Crazy J. You are an absolute fucking imbecile. Like an absolute Grade A idiot. I watch you wrestle and I have no idea what the fuck I am watching, you’re so disjointed and all over the place. Are you sixteen or sixty? Are you naive or have the early onset of alzheimers, I can’t read you at all. Granted, I got to page one that said ‘Crazy J is a faggot’ and I stopped that shit right there.
Crazy J - let’s talk. Who the fuck are you? Like what’s your schtick? Every week you whine bitch and complain ‘BU-BU-STOP CALLING US JUGGALOS AND CLOWNS’ motherfucker…
Joey looks around at all the fallen clowns.
Joey: That’s ALL you are. You have absolutely nothing else to your personality. You are a one dimensional joke of a wrestler. I don’t know where you and Salem stop and begin, you’re essentially two completely interchangeable random dudes who wear face paint and try to be edgy. I don’t understand what the fuck you’re even doing with your career, I don’t think you know. Grow a personality fuckwad. It makes me sad to watch you as Hardcore Champion, this belt used to be such a hot commodity here, it used to be the belt only the most dedicated elites could win and defend. Wrestlers who would be able to go toe to toe for as long as is humanly possible in the most fiendish of environments but now? It’s like a play date in a ball pit with tickling rather than punching. You’ve fucking ruined this title...no I lie, this title has been dead for well over a year. You think you’re elevating this shit? You think you’re somewhat credible? God it will be a delight to show you how totally wrong and out of your depth you are at One once we win Hellimination.
Tips for Crazy J to succeed further in WCF:
- Know yourself
- Actually have a personality and something for fans to gravitate towards rather than trying to be every nineties kid’s bedroom poster for five months of a shitty phase that they will actively avoid trying to ever tell anyone about.
(I wonder if Michael the telegram boy had this problem?)
Scratch that, just kill yourself
Tagging along with FrEeKEekeShOW is Jason Cash. This is another motherfucker who I just don’t understand. Why on earth do you hang around with this group of people? I mean you couldn’t be any different; at least the people I associate with I know are selfish self serving cunts so we are like kindred spirits, but you? You’re a drunken redneck hanging out with Juggalos. You are the outcast of your group, it’s almost like they hired Archer just so you wouldn’t feel alone in not being a total faggot. Which you’re not Cash, don’t worry, you’re not a total faggot, just a standard run of the mill faggot. I think that might be even worse. Feel bad about yourself. You should.
I have to ask a quick question though, what does three billion dollars look like? I wish I knew. I’ve never seen such an abundance of currency, it’s enough to make me feel a little bad about myself - I mean you guys aren’t just rich, you’re wealthy. What does three billion look like in Zero Tolerance world? Apparently not enough to buy for a bath a shave and a comb you fucking hobo. You’re a good ol’ countreh boi who luvs him sum wrasslin - yet you’re also a fucking super billionaire. How the fuck does this even work? I can suspend my disbelief for a second for Omega and Battle but you? I mean, I have a good imagination but Shakespeare on DMT couldn’t even conjure that shit up. Fuck being rich, you look like you have the kind of mouth that’s made his horse real happy over the years.
Which is the more likely scenario?
- Jason Cash and ZT are multi-billionaires
- Jason Cash's brain that has been warped and damaged by the syphilitic onset of hallucination and schizophrenia, you know, the one where ZT aren’t Juggalos who cut themselves to take the pain away while jerking into their crusty sock listening to My Chemical Romance while taking double hits of Acid laced hash from a bong made from a tampon that was plucked from a rotting prostitute's cunt.
It’s a joke; you Cash, are a joke. Every single thing that slides from your slack jawed lips is an assault to my sensibilities as a professional wrestler. This isn’t a game of name calling and childish antics, this is a blood sport. It’s a sport you aren’t conditioned for and a sport in which I rule above all and everything in this world. I’m going to win this week, and I’m going to win at Helloween. It’s not a case of whether ‘you did alright’; you can do incredibly and straight up think you’re going trash Pantheon. Who knows, maybe your team will surprise us and the incredible coallition will end up surviving and defeating a couple of members of Pantheon. Shock and awe. Then you will look into the opposition corner and see Joey Flash stepping through the ropes.
At that point right there, you, I, everyone watching will know that the match is over. I am insurmountable here, in this realm I am supreme over anything and everything. Keep thinking that I got lucky, I won by fluke or that I won because ‘I HAD MORE (OH BATMAN) PREP TIME’ from not competing leading into War. After Slam this week you will know the true horror of what you have gotten yourselves into. There are some doors you shouldn’t open, and that mistake is going to cost you absolutely everything.
First stage of the assault: commence.
Three bodybags on deck, you’re finished.
♠Shadow of the Colossus♣
October 2nd 2016
Joey Flash had won war. As Joseph Malignaggi walked through the masses of humanity; each fans outreaching hand yearning for a touch of the messiah, he realised what a big moment this was. He had won War, this was no longer a plan, this was no longer a dream - this was reality. Joey had finally thrown his hat into one of the big WCF showcases.
‘Only the best win War!’
‘You’re a Hall of Famer if you win War and a World Title!’
‘Main event One!’
He had never doubted the outcome. Smiling to each adoring fan as he reached the top of the entrance ramp two duelling chants broke out across the Madison Square Garden crowd.
JOEY / PANTH / FLASH / EON / JOEY / PANTH / FLASH / EON
In one night he had turned the wrestling business upside down, Imperium was one thing but this? This? This was the greatest collection of talent the business had ever seen. No, not just that. The shadow that had been hanging over him since he first stepped through the curtain here was well and truly upon him now. This was Pantheon.
It’s like this was how it was meant to be huh? Joey Flash and Pantheon had been a match that was almost destined to happen, the signs had been there from the start, the history had been too great and too strong. Pantheon was the greatest stable in the history of the WCF, it was at its prime when it had a ~*say his name*~ strong leader. When it had a man leading from the front and dominating all ~*leader of Pantheon huh*~ in front of them.
Flash had been cast in the shadow of one Pantheonic ghost since his debut ~*you really are the next *REDACTED**~ and it was becoming painfully apparent that this victory, here in their home town had only solidified the fact further. He was to rule atop the wrestling, he was to sit the throne, he had the greatest record in the history of the business, he was a lock for the WCF Hall of Fame yet, why did everything feel so...hollow?
Waiting for him as he stepped back through the curtain was a face he hadn’t seen for some time - Hank Brown.
Hank: HI JOE JOE! CONGRATULATIONS!
Joey: Thanks, Hank. But I-
Hank: -am contractually obligated to partake in this post match interview that’s correct!
Joey: Fuck.
Hank: We are live across the world and there are many children watching so-
Joey: Santa isn’t real.
Hank: …
Joey: Let’s get on with this, you’re going to ask me shit like: ‘How does it feel to be back in the ring after so long and to perform at such a high level in such an intense environment’? Right?
Hank: Actually…
He glances at his cue cards.
Hank: It was ‘How do you feel about winning?’ But yours was better.
Joey: I feel ~*
Hank: And-
Joey: No. That’s a lie.
Don’t talk about it.
Joey: I dedicate this victory to my son, Christian.
His throat tightened and his eyes welled, it was too late. Some poker player you are Joe.
Joey: Everything I did last year, and again...and again tonight it’s for you little buddy. I’m gonna bring you one hell of a Christmas present ya hear? I’m coming home with everything. For good this time. I-I…
He motions toward Hank to take over as Joey collects himself.
Hank: You okay to continue?
Joey: Yeah, give me a second...okay, yo, how much longer?
Hank: Two.
Joey: Aight, go.
Hank: Tonight you performed a huge coup by securing the most preeminent wrestlers in the world to join you in the reformation of WCF’s most storied franchise, Pantheon. How did you do it?
Joey: Have you ever promised someone the world? Well what happens when the world is not enough? I’m not here as a leader ~*he wasn’t the ‘leader’ either*~, I am here to fight on the front lines as a figurehead and as a role model. I am the role model for excellence and for consistency in this business. No one brings it week after week after week like I do, no one hits the heights in the ring that I do. There is a reason my name is synonymous with success, and that right there is the reason why these people have gravitated toward me. I’ve been in life or death wars with almost all of them and every single one has fought in a way that astounded me, that pushed me to my very limits. I’ve forever been a loner, I never needed help, I never needed friends. Every alliance I ever formed has been for my own benefit entirely but this? This is to serve one mistress only: the business of professional wrestling.
Hank: So; you’ve had the dominant rookie year, you had the even more dominant sophomoric year and now you’re the head of Pantheon leading them into the next generation after being a War winner, I think the prophecy has been truly fulfilled Joe-
~*Don’t…
-you really are
….say....
The next
...his fucking name.~*
Jonny Fly.
