ZMAC-> Re/Animated vol. II
Oct 22, 2016 13:24:30 GMT -5
Gemini Battle, David Sanchez, and 3 more like this
Post by Zombie DankMorris on Oct 22, 2016 13:24:30 GMT -5
RP 1
ZMAC
vs
Danny Anderson
vs
Teddy Blaze
vs
Jason Cash
_________________________________
Chapter I: So Close to Heaven
If words could haunt me, I would have poltergeists in every pore of my being. They would scratch and claw at me until I was mere tattered flesh, hanging off a bone-wire framework, a mass of tormented bone trauma dreaming I was real.
“You never know what Zombie McMorris that you’ll get.”
It doesn't have to be an unpleasant surprise. I can display a different gear if I wish. Each week I choose how I want to play this little game. I choose what level of coked up madness to put on display for the world to see. My choice, always. But lately, quite frankly? I've become tired of choosing. Zombie McMorris, from now on, is going to go from hilt to tilt in ways only Pantheon can rival. Danny Anderson, I knew you’d come, but I also know that you’ll be leaving just as soon. What's about to happen to you this week Danny is nothing personal. Nothing that I ever do is personal. It's just who I am. It's just how I function. Eat. Sleep. Rek. Repeat. Teddy Blaze; you're another man who I go along ways back with. We've had my up's and your down's (as I kill you with a world tour and dump you out of the building) Still, I have no ill will towards you either. And Teddy? You've become a sensitive soul, but even with testing positive for failed heel turn I still don't feel any pangs of hate towards you. No, all of you need to understand that this week, it isn't me just dumping hawt fyre your way about how I feel towards Thomas Bates, Zero Entertainment ( LOL Jason Cash you about to get your ass fuccin' whooped and you don’t even know it yet) or The Brotherhood. No, what I do this week is simply because I'm more creative, more inventive, more dangerous, and far, far more venomous than any of you. It's just who I am. These are not debatable facts, not in the least -
This is just Zombie McMorris -> #Re/Animated
Impassioned moans of lustful ->hateful -> unbridle and feverish instinct collide together in a singularity of expression. Bonnie Blue rode that wave by her hips and lips, coiled tightly around the monolith of human barbarism. When yes-> is more -> and more means don’t stop -> the edge of existence comes to an end with Bonnies breasts bouncing and heaving -> she collapses next to me with heavy breath and shivering moans. Her body is writhing and reeling; my heavenly angel come to earth. I was no longer knocking on Heavens door but yet like Thomas Bates, a stranger in its many rooms. I already roll on for all eternity and now doing so with my muse made it even more enjoyable. As far as I am concerned its just US-> and Them -> on constant repeat, a carousal of methodic melodies that I knew I would eventually wake from- > but If I’m dreamin on this cloud of crytal nose candy -> then Bonnie -> baby -> don’t chu wake.
This is where I connect to you -> directly to you -> all of you. All of you within earshot -> striking distance -> the most intimate of embraces -> and everything in-between. This is where I connect to you -> all day -> everyday -> like last time /blackslash ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Havent you boys heard that all that this is -> is a battle of words between three ordinary men -> so says the man with the gun and his finger on the pulse of time. This is a battle that none of you can win; despite all of your heroic “Team WCF efforts.” Yah -> remind me to throw that delightful finger paint picture of burlesque putridity up on the company fridge.
Fuckin’ Fiuccboi Faggots that aint even got a damn sense or clue in the world -> even if they went and explored the Milky Wat Galexy for the rest of their meaningless existence. You dudes better set your controls to Stun because Zombie McMorris isn’t even phased by all this ( LOL A fuckin Star Trek pun? Shee-it, I’m ILL’R than I thought.) Speakin of dat, Teddy-> We gone get to you in a fuckin bit. It gone be a while so why don’t you fire up Gimp and wax off a could of red ovals over a pre-rendered dot.Gif for me -> I need something to laugh at while I eat my morning breakfast of cocaine and Adderall -> Fuckin scrub.
Sorry -> what? -> Jason says I’m gobblin up all the nuts on him because he’s the weakest of Zero Entertainment. Aight son -> LOL you up next. Fuckin Danny Boy got them body Bags on deck like:
“Massah ZMAC, I done did fletch them body bags like you did wanted. Yess’ah I deed.”
I’ll get you last, Danny.
LOL -> I knew you would. So be a good fuckin pleb and drag me up a body bag for Mr. Cash because he’s so un-fucking creative he has to spell it the regular way like that’s going to make us take him extra super serious or sum shit-> LOL -> don’t worry -> we fucking don’t.
In fact, Mr. Cash, while I got your attention ( Because you aint got the choice) -> I want to tell you that it is a well and painfully obvious fact that you are the weakest member of that little three man group.
“ Gah, ZMAC, theres four of us.”
LOL Yup, but you aint one of them boy. Here, look I’ll list it out for you. Rank N file of Zero Tolerance.
Numbah one -> the WCF Hardcore title
Numbah Two-> Adrian Archer’s “Magnificent Bastard” Nickname, but not the man himself because the gimmicks too big for his fucking mind to wrap around correctly
Numbah Three-> The Fucking Salt.
I fuckin swear, the Salt is fucking real with chu FGTs dat you should rename the finish of you dudes and just call it “ The Salt” where you all crowd around Gemini Battles twitter account and call people faggots.
Fuckin uninspired fuccbois are UN->IN->FUCKING->SPIRED. I mean like, who are you but a country boy who loves him a fight. * Yawn ..Sorry, ya tired ass gimmick is putting ol’ Z to sleep and we aint even step in that ring but of course you think you got the ol’ one up on ZMAC but by now your mind is in damage control:
“ I’m not a jaggalo. I’m not a faggot. I never even been to Cali. Why is ZMAC killing me?”
Because I can.
And I want you to get used to that phrase. Me and Pantheon will be saying it a lot. We can -> I can -> I will -> DOMINATE YOU FROM BELL -> TO FUCKING -> BELL.
I told jew, son. That Salt is fucking real this week and ya boi Crazy J is sittin in the back crapping himself with Salem Shep like a human centipede (centi-pod?). He grateful, he’ll suck ya dick clean rock style in appreciation that he doesn’t have to be put through the hell that I’m putting you through this week.
I don’t know what you think you can do in that ring; especially against me because let me tell you ( LOL fuck you, you aint got a choice.) You aint doin much except nervously looking back at the ramp in hopes that the human grease paint centipod crawls out of a fissure in your asshole that I done stomped into you with my worn out Doc Martins -> worn out because I’ve done this a lot -> Killin FGTs is my job -> and you -> Just made-> Dah liZ-T.
Tell you straight up while my muse has a lustful heart attack off my Tommy Lee Bitch Beater. Tell you straight up that waxing eighteen dudes from the Dub aint no accident or an easy fucking task ( LOL yes it was). Theres been dudes like you longer than you’ve been a dude like you -> and you play it the fucking worst.
You’re the worst Doc Henry
You’re the worst Jason Kash
You’re the #Fail_Confederate
Do you even believe the hype that you and your buddies bring to the WCF -> That’s cool. A bunch of rag tag Detroit trailer park elitist banding together because alone they are vulnerable and together they are just annoying enough for people to leave their shit alone -> BUT -> LOL -> You in the Dub -> and in the Dub, you cats are toast.
I’mma be straight up and honest with chu doe. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to systematically drive you from this company because I don’t like you and I don’t want you here -> there is no place for another ‘hellbilly’ here or another grease paint grown man with parental issues on par with that of a hormonal ridden pre-teen. Get the fuck outta here -> You aint got no credibility dream of, let alone speak off.
That’s a nice set of trios titles. Be a shame if a coked up mad man stole it #spoilers. What do you got though? A fucking legacy? A legacy of:
“ I’m not with them. I’m not with them but I’m with them.”
Is that the philosophy of Zero Tolerance; be annoying fuccbois till you get called out on it then run and hide like scolded dogs? Sorry nig ( LOL not sorry) Am I in the Meta ( LOL fuck you, ZMAC is dat Meta).
ZMAC is the Meta, the Ultimate, while Jason Cash is on bottom bunk while the rest of ZT make mayonase fuckin sandwiches.
LOL You guys remember that joke; classic -> like that k-k-klassik A-1 ass whoopin I’mma bring to you on Sunday night. And if you be thinkin that a fatal four way will save you ( LOL you fuckin scrub) it won’t.
Truth be told -> and you know that ZMAC always be on that truth serum trip like Andre Holmes on dat Purple Drank -> You are the weakest nigguh up on Zero Tolerance.
You got the weakest story
You got the weakest shoot
You got the weakest gimmick
And you got the weakest stable.
Serious -> I’mma give it to you straight like a straw ( put a little flex on it ) -> You are hawt gah-bage on a tin roof in a Texas boarder town. It be like a hunnit fifty up there and you bois just be stinkin’ –> N’ Smellin’ -> N’ stankin’ it up some more.
So I want you to run along after this Sunday -> Run back to “I’m not a juga-LOLZ, so stop calling me that,” Crazy J and tell him what you did heard. Tell him what you did done.
Tell homeboy that you tried. Tell him that you gave it the ol’ Southern effort mixed in a little more of that southern com’fit. Tell him that yah, ZMAC should die and you hope that he burns in hell.
Come at me, Fuccboi. Make the grandest of attempts this Sunday night when you square off against Zombie McMorris, a serial career killah -> watch me eat cocoa-puffs out cha asshole because I chew up jobbers like you on the regular. Then you boys can get down on ya knees and suck my THICK like everybody else whose K-Rossed my path and got fucking bodied for their trouble. But don’t worry Crazy J, you aint gotta give me dome rock -> but cha friend Jay Sea -> He going poon to snout on this Coked Up Mad Man.
Crazy J, greased painted bafoon that you are; I am going to sexually assault your friend while you watch in horror. I’m going to do it LIVE in front of thousands of people. It’ll great too because they’ll all think that this is an act -> a game -> some kind of Twizt’d Dark Carnival -> if you will ( LOL and you will). I’m going to go ultra-violent on Jay Sea, dat used up cunt -> dat good for nothing poon that I couldn’t even get stiff too -> But I’mma use him anyway. Use him up -> because -> ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.
Because You, Crazy J, started this-> and like every other mistake in your life -> someone close to you -> is going to pay for it.
So Jason Cash, or Cash with the “$” symbol -> even though you aint eveah drew a fuckin dime in your life -> while your down there on Sunday -> bobbin your pretty little face off my immortal nut sack -> I want you to look up at me.
I want to see your eyes -> I want to SEA your tears -> I want to peer into your soul and see Crazy Jerimiah; this is for him after all. Then Jason, I’m going to dump your curb stomped, Axe Wounded husk of a faygo slut body into a field somewhere up eight mile -> You can sing a song about it.
[ I’m sorry ma’ma /
I didn’t mean to hurt you/
I neveah meant to make you cry.. ]
# Sing_Dat_Chorus
I’m sure four grown men never meant to disappoint their parents how I’d gamble at least two of you came from broken homes -> So this isn’t exactly new to you -> but its going to feel like the first time -> all the time. It is not coincidence that this is what, our first time in the ring? IDK, I cant remember. If its not then I fuckin no showed it and, whelp -> this is fucking new for you.
But see, this isn’t new for me. Steam rolling through faygo covered fools and cliched cowboys ain’t exactly a tough challenge. In fact, there aint no challenge in this. After Sunday night, the house that Zero Tolerance built -> attempted to build with the Horror Kore strap and those Trios belts is going to be foreclosed on.
Sorry but the stable with the five fucking world champions has a few ups on ya.
But you go believe Bates that Coraly Black and Stingrayson Price are the invaders -> when they are two of the guys that built this fucking company whose teet you’re trying to suckle from.
But see, ya’ll are not used to teats. You -> like Bates -> are used to dicks -> you’re used to egos being stroked and everyone telling you how fucking good you are ( LOL if anyone told you that, I’ll choke them out myself) -> You’re used to being the Beta among the Charles. You dudes are the B-group that gets called in when the rosters low because you’re just decent hands that can work but once the Alphas come home to do coke, fuck bitches and eat chicken wings -> ya’ll don’t know what the fuck to do.
Whelp. I’mma tell you what to do, Jason Cash. Leave. Trust me when I tell you that WCF will be fine without the collective think tank that is “ Zero Entertainment.”
We were fine without SPAC, Genesis, Cryogenics, The Pack, The Perfect Alliance, Rebbelution, Dark Side of Terchery, Bravado, Church of the Dark Saints, Danger Tainment, The Family, The Adam Young Experience, And MS-13.
And there is a shit ton more that I’m missing -> why am I missing them -> because they fucking suck and no one remembers -> Just like in six months when end your so called ‘careers’ -> no one is going to remember you.
But I will.
I’ll remember you because career are like scalps. And I want my scalps -> Because I’m not a magnificent bastard -> I’m an inglorious one and a sick guy.
So while you wana play confederate drunk at your local Applebees getting cawked off two dollar Coors specials -> ZMAC is here, in the eather waxing your punk ass for the crimes that cha boi Crazy Jay done committed -> after all, we can send him a fruit basket for this.
B-T-Dubs, Jason Cash, I like purple lipstick rings on my cock-> It goes well with my yellow eyes and black fucking heart; deal with it ( LOL cuz you aint got a choice). I mean, its not like you’re about to bust out the promo of your fucking life. Then again, you probably are. You probably will go try hard Rain Man Majestic and to you, them crayons got color but to a Coked Up Mad Man -> I don’t even fucking notice.
NEWS FLASH! -> Right? Right? RIIGHTT… Za Wardo is on fire because of the dank promos that Jason Cash is dropping from the hollowed billionaire homes of Zero Tolerance. So! How is that news station going? Where is that ZT LIVE News Cast since Pantheon walked onto the scene?
You cant say much about it.
“ Yah, we won Trios. Yay!” Pat cha selves on the dick for a week and then that stops because Pantheon -> my crew -> been stompin’ out fools and fuccbois alike. Put that on your news cast.
“Tonight on ZT world news: Jason Cash gets his shit pushed in by ZMAC and Crazy J has PTSD flashbacks from a concert ten years ago… More at eleven.”
Now, you see, Zombie McMorris is so much more than what you think. I am vile. I am putrid. I am a million layers of festering verbal hell just waiting to sink my fangs into the skin of my next supple white boy victim. I am a furious and quickening poison the likes of which you have never seen and will never see again. Your little talent agency can travel all over this country, all over this world to try and find a replica of he that is one of a kind. It is this one of a kind, destroyer of the human psyche and emotional reservoir that you, Jason Cash are going to meet with on Sunday night.
It is you, Jason Cash, whose supple white neck I am going to sink my fangs into and rip out -> tear to pieces-> consume -> digest -> shit out -> and mail back to your little insignificant gaggle of compatriots. Hmp, you can show it on your news cast; maybe then someone will watch it. But Sunday night, Jason Cash -> The world is watching you. Zombie McMorris will be watching you and boy, I am not going to take my eyes off you until your tonsil deep in Crazy J’s living nightmare.
Then its onto him.
Salem Shepard…Run. Run Fast and never look back.
Because this is not a fight that any of you can win.
.. .. … As always it is my muse that crashes me back to reality with her soft voice, deep eyes and cute smile. Bonnie snuggled up close to me, burying her face into my chest. Her neck, back and legs all contort into various positions as she stretches out; the final decent of her climactic freefall. She coo’s and giggles softly as she rolls over on her left side; wiggling her perfect little ass as she finds that sweet spot in the mattress to drift off with. With the champagne on ice and the hardcore soft porn on late night Cinemax; there was not much I could except stare up at the fancy ceiling fan in my penthouse suite. All of Pantheon has a penthouse room in Pantheon tower but I have it all to my own this weekend. While I would enjoy nothing more than laying next to my muse all night, I got this Poon-Guinea Blue Kona Karush stompin through my veins like a Kaiju through a quiet little mountain town. Part of me wanted to scoop up my muse and scale Pantheon Tower proper and howl at the moon like the Mad Man that I am in The Shining, moon.; I’d be eating silver bullets like candy corn. But Nah, that wasn’t going to happen. I don’t need to sleep. Fuck, I don’t even need to eat or drink. Immortality can be great, except it means that sleeping and dreaming next to my muse is almost impossible. I’ll let her sleep a bit, I know she needs it.
Springing myself out of bed, I throw my pants on and grab a soft pack of camel filters from the night stand; Jared would be missing these and that will make them all the more sweeter to my lips. Taking the smokes in my hand I walk over to the balcony and perch myself on the railing with one leg dangling, flirting with a sixty-six story drop. Truth be told, I don’t even like Camel filters; I don’t even care for cigarettes at all. However, these were Jared’s and I’mma spark each and every one of these nasty little bitches up. Fuck you six G, you ain’t gettin’ em’ back. I’ll start by sparking up this one right here, third one in, top row from the left. That one was your favorite, I know that it was, It’s my favorite too.
Pressing the filter in my lips I spark it up with my solid gold Zippo. It is funny how this little four inch stick of dried leaves and rat poison kills mother fuckers and they buy it by the carton. They talk about how it releases stress- they don’t know what stress is. Stress is knowing that the woman in the next room is the woman of your dreams except that you cant actually dream of her. Deep down wanting to spend the rest of your life with her but in reality its just the rest of her life. Literally every encounter I have is just one terminal bout with empathy. It is like bedside manner while Grampa Bruce buys the farm in that shaky twenty o’ seven economy, terrible results. Guess I’ll just smoke these till the sun comes up in a few hours. Maybe I’ll get cancer and die.. Maybe then I’ll final dream of the one that I love.
________________________________
Chapter II: Love and Dying
Later that night, after the sun came up to the sounds of my muse grinding on my cod piece, the sun jerked it a few times and went to bed especially early. I tried to offer it a bump of coke but he was like: ‘ Nah, I got work the morning,’ fuckin’ light weight. However, an all day fuck session makes a grown woman hungry so we went out to an oyster bar by the shore; only a few minute walk from Pantheon Tower. We were sitting across from each other at a table that was up against the railing of the restaurant patio, at the end of the sandy beach. The moon was out and light up the water off the beach, giving us a more romantic feel. There was a flicking glass candle between us as we ate oysters and wild caught swordfish. That accented the mood.
“So, there was something that I’ve been wondering?” Asks Bonnie as she sucks down an oyster. “Why did you join Pantheon?”
“Flash ask me.” I replied, taking a sip of my scorpion bowl. “He knew that I’m an important asset to the group. With all of this ‘outsider’ talk, I am a proven champion. I’m here in WCF before and after Mexico, I’m also one of the best strikers and verbal shooters in the history of the company.”
“It just seems so left field for you.” Says Bonnie, saking her head and taking a sip from her Fog Cutter.
“ Why? I am one of the most loyal and capable tag wrestlers in WCF; my ring psychology alone is second to none.”
Bonnie flashes a smile. “That’s true. I’m really happy for you that you’re getting this opportunity. You deserve to be at the top of the card with them. I don’t care what anyone says, Southpaw.”
“So what about us, Bonnie?” I mutter before wiping my mouth with a sweaty palm.
“It-it’s fun,” She starts, trying to plot her course carefully. “I really enjoy my time with you but with my job you know I cant get too attached. Besides, how many women have you been with in all your life times?” Bonnie tried to Segway out of the question with another question as I try to bring it back around.
“Been with, or loved?”
“Loved,” she smirked. “I don’t think I want to know the number of women you’ve slept with.” The Amount of women that I have loved, truly loved made me pause, look down and think for a moment – a long moment. “ Zombie, Southpaw.. Hello?” Bonnie waves her hand in front of my face, trying to pull me out of my trance.
"One. Only one.” I stumbled my way through three words. “It- it – I-…”
“It’s ok, Z; it’s just us. You can tell me.”
I took a deep breath, skidding my palms on my jeans and look away. “It took four life times until I found her.”
“That’s a long time. What was the first time like, you know.. how did you die?
“I died in my mid twenties; I drowned.” Taking myself back to that point in my original life was like being swept away in a rip tide; the same rip tide that swept me away and dragged me to my first death.
“Is that why your body is as young as it is?”
“Yah, that’s right.” It was hard to think back to that time and recall what happens and how my immortality effects my body. Then she asked me a question that put an arrow through my heart. It pained me but it was just a natural question.
“Who was she?” Bonnie asked as my words got caught in my lungs.
‘she’s not you,’ My mind screamed, ‘she’s not you.’ I couldn’t bring myself to tell Bonnie her name. I could end human lives in battle without a thought but love was different. I – I heard that all was fair in love and war but love just isn’t fair at all. So I decided to tell the story anyway because Bonnie as taken my hand and assured me again that everything was alright.
“ I went back to the middle ages and met a women… but… she was taken by the plague. I died in battle some time later, which I learned is hard to do. Then I was sent back to the present.” I words failed me as I trailed off in torrent of emotion. “I missed her. I missed her so bad I tried to go back. I – I – didn’t even know if it was going to work but I had to try.”
“What did you do, Southpaw?”
“I slit my wrists and drowned in a hotel bath tub. To this day, drowning is one of the few ways I know I can die and be sent backwards.”
“Did you meet her again?” Asks Bonnie, becoming more engrossed in my story.
“I found myself back in the same time period with the same woman but this time I caught the plague, only, I didn’t die.”
“An immortal coked up madman in ..”
“England.”
“So an immortal coked up madman in England isn’t going to go over well.”
“No, its not and no, it didn’t go over well. Not wanting to see her get sick again, I left and lived in the woods until my body healed itself; That’s how I know Illness cant kill me. I came back when I was better and found that she was still there. The only problem is that people thought she cured me and called her a witch. They burned her at the stake and I lost my head; that was the last time that I saw her.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been tough for you.” Says Bonnie as her eyes well up with tears.
“ It was. I spent hundreds of life times figuring out what can and cannot cause my death. I know what makes me die.. but I’m starting to think love is the only thing that can actually kill me.” With that Bonnie gets up from her seat and comes over to hug me with sadness in her heart; an embrace that I will never forget.
__________________
Chapter III: #reZpkt
Kilauea volcano, carter top. Hawaii
I sat atop the great and mighty Hawaiian mountain that boiled and bubbled with the liquid foundation of this floating rocky orb that we -> they -> You peons call earth. I bang the poon that knows the celestial truths and she rides the dong that knows the extent of all human capabilities.
#2025 #Dat_Dr_He_Be_In #Scarfs_Out_Dis_Fall
This right here is the mountain top; this is your pinnacle. Thomas Bates and Gemini Battle; it’s that steep cliff. Its that NFL ‘over fourty’ cliff. Ya’ll gone drop off and fall into the rumbling organic stew that is nothingness. But hey, it’s ok. Thomas Bates owned a large room filled with heavy objects, padded mats and maybe even a juice bar.
#Squad_Goals #Lawl-complishments
And Gemni Battle, this mother fucker is an alien. Like holy shit, and I thought I jumped the shark with a shitty haircut but you had to had an alien walk down from the heaven and deliver himself up your asshole to make you a talent .. and you know… have the company shut down and do away with some of its top paid talent.
#200bucks #Seth_Hates_Deadepool
But don’t get too excited. That’s just political and social commentary. I know who my ‘opponents’ are. Teddy Blaze and Danny Anderson. Now Danny, I told you I’d get to you last and I will because quite frankly you might not even be in this match by the time Sunday rolls around.
So Teddy Blaze, barring the glasses, barring the gifs, who are you; because this time around I’ve heard that you’ve been a busy little son of the sun. I heard that you were desperate, that you, the son of the sun where at the land of the rising sun so that you may rise from ashes of your lack of knowkage on that belt that you’re holding -> my belt. But that’s cool son, I mean, other people got to have the chance and clearly you’re better than Gem but this week rolling into Helloween -> I’m starting to question. I question your integrity and your will to be in this company and yet you stand on the side of “Team WCF” when clearly you’re apart of them crazy invaders who were here six months ago but because we don’t suck dick and tell all them new cats that they get a gold star and need to work at shit, we’re the fucking bad guys.
#Run_On_Sentences #Runnin_On #25/8
Honestly, Teo that’s what this is. Adrian Archer, Damien Kaine -> two nobodies -> Two team captains that are going to get murked worse than Jason Cash is about to get murked this week. So lets talk about you and you’re plans this week, Teddy Blaze. Let us talk about how you were talked to and talked into Team WCF first, above all else. More importantly, lets talk about the people who hard skipped team WCF when asked. People like Sarah Twilight, Oblivion, Doc Henry, Steven Singh, Kidd Krazzy.. Honestly, I could name half the fed and half the fed was like:
“Fuck you FGTS, I’m not getting shit canned by Pantheon.”
So, Teddy Blaze don’t act all high and mighty about you being the first man to join the team because you were the first choice. Trust me. You’re the filler to this Boston Crème pie from a collection of dudes that hail from the Midwest to the mid Atlantic. They don’t know about New England sweet cakes. They know about Cleveland Steamers. They know about taking a big ol’ Taco Bell dump on your chest and rubbing that steaming pile into your very soul.
You won’t be clean after this, Teddy. You could throw yourself at the mercy of this volcano and you won’t get clean; not one bit. The only thing that can save your soul is pantheon. However, the issue with that is that we don’t want to.
LOL
We want you to live with that choice. You’re poor misinformed choice. I mean, honestly, theres three world champions on Team Pantheon for this match. I’d be a world champion except Seth hates Deadpool. That’s kool, doe. Like that aint not reason hate but it is a real to kill a mofo in the heat of bloody fiery passion. So if you couldn’t tell, O’ son of the Sun; I am a very *EXTREMLY passionate guy.
This week is a lot of pressure for you. This is your chance to show the world and your captains that you are a worthy choice. Its Jason Cash’s chance to show himself that he aint the weakest fuccboi of his bunch but that’s going to go over like Adam Young.
This week Teddy, Teo, we’re cool enough for informalities. Teo, I’m going to jack you up and make you regret holding that Internet Title. That Dank Pale Rider is still lurkin’ and that Huffy of Doom is still riding hard and its going to ride up on you. Sunday night I’m going to stare you in the face and paint bush those stupid glasses right off of your fucking face.
I am the man to beat in this match. I am the man to beat in WCF. I have become the standard bearer and key to the main event. I would be the main event, the top guy and world champion but I do me. I do me in the ways that no one else is doing themselves. All these tough guys, crazys, supposed disregard of human life is fucking laughable when you join together and call yourselves retarded names like Zero Tolerance or The Brotherhood.
Fucking dumpster fires, and I should know; I live in a fucking dumpster. However, where I hang my head compared to the lives that that and the rest of Team WCF lead for starkly contrasted. Yet, wait, no.. Zero tolerance are supposed to be fucking billionaires. Billionaires that clearly cant be paid that much by Seth Lerch and quite frankly couldn’t have made that through wrestling because wrestling is a shitbox media platform. But what do I know, right? RIGHT? RRIIGHHTT.
My word to you, Tedddy would be to back out of Hellimination. Back out of the match that’s going to stain the career that you’ve built as the premier Peoples Champion of our time. Back of the match that will undoubtedly undo your hardwork and dedication to this company, pre-Mexico.
And most of all, back out of our match this week because I respect you, and with that respect, I’m going to have to fucking end you. You deserve no less than Zombie McMorris going full throttle Dirty South on your ass until it squirts buttermilk. Maybe then, Team WCF and this Post-Mexico New Era can suck your teat rather than hop on that Norse God train and ride that to gravy town when Teddy Blaze is cheaper. You brought all this upon yourself, Teddy. And Za Wardo, brought me -> to you -> to kill a fuccboi for betraying himself and the boys that he ran with for so long.
So that leaves you, Danny. Mr. Anderson, you’ve been in WCF HQ so many times I bet they gave you your own door; a fucking revolving door that leads you to a roped off little maze of velvet ropes that comes to a head with a turn-style. As you approach there’s a contract and a pen. All you got to do is sign it and walk through the gate. Then you follow another maze of red ropes that lead you to the same turn-style that has another contracting facing you and all you got to do is sign it and free yourself from your own abject lack of creativity.
You treat WCF like a low grade furniture store that offers people a free cup of coffee and just return everyday. Or maybe this is like a Planet Fitness. No lunks allowed, no real people who actually want to get in shape and change their lives. No, Danny, you sign up for zero down and show up for a week or two, all the while the gym ( that’s WCF in this case) takes your money and then you only show up for free pizza day. Then we don’t see you again until you remember, that the Dub has your money so you better make use of it. Maybe you forgot a shitty watch or pair of glasses in one of the lockers so you came back to claim it but stayed to watch some fifty-something soccer mom with struggle to use a stair machine. It’s a sad fucking state of affairs, your life. I certainly don’t envy you. In fact, I don’t even think that you envy you. You want out so fucking bad and it is painfully obvious. That’s alright, Danny. You should Join Team WCF; I heard they are recruiting for a suicide mission. It is a suicide mission like hanging off the edge of this volcano. The only difference is that I’m the only mother fucker that one die from it; same with our match. Everyone stands to lose something except for me. Truthfully speaking because I’m the only mother fucker that’s going to win this match. Honestly though, it is a shame that I’m going to end up pinning you. I’m going to curb stomp you, Falcon kick Teddy and hit the FGT KLR on Cash. Then again, someone’s got to get pinned and you’re used to things like that. All this match shows is that the loose cannon of Pantheon is still more dangerous than all those little hot pistols that think themselves to be wrestlers or the face of this company. But with a face like yours, who need Fox to fuck up the source material.
LOL
DEUCES BITCH!
ZMAC
vs
Danny Anderson
vs
Teddy Blaze
vs
Jason Cash
_________________________________
Chapter I: So Close to Heaven
If words could haunt me, I would have poltergeists in every pore of my being. They would scratch and claw at me until I was mere tattered flesh, hanging off a bone-wire framework, a mass of tormented bone trauma dreaming I was real.
“You never know what Zombie McMorris that you’ll get.”
It doesn't have to be an unpleasant surprise. I can display a different gear if I wish. Each week I choose how I want to play this little game. I choose what level of coked up madness to put on display for the world to see. My choice, always. But lately, quite frankly? I've become tired of choosing. Zombie McMorris, from now on, is going to go from hilt to tilt in ways only Pantheon can rival. Danny Anderson, I knew you’d come, but I also know that you’ll be leaving just as soon. What's about to happen to you this week Danny is nothing personal. Nothing that I ever do is personal. It's just who I am. It's just how I function. Eat. Sleep. Rek. Repeat. Teddy Blaze; you're another man who I go along ways back with. We've had my up's and your down's (as I kill you with a world tour and dump you out of the building) Still, I have no ill will towards you either. And Teddy? You've become a sensitive soul, but even with testing positive for failed heel turn I still don't feel any pangs of hate towards you. No, all of you need to understand that this week, it isn't me just dumping hawt fyre your way about how I feel towards Thomas Bates, Zero Entertainment ( LOL Jason Cash you about to get your ass fuccin' whooped and you don’t even know it yet) or The Brotherhood. No, what I do this week is simply because I'm more creative, more inventive, more dangerous, and far, far more venomous than any of you. It's just who I am. These are not debatable facts, not in the least -
This is just Zombie McMorris -> #Re/Animated
Impassioned moans of lustful ->hateful -> unbridle and feverish instinct collide together in a singularity of expression. Bonnie Blue rode that wave by her hips and lips, coiled tightly around the monolith of human barbarism. When yes-> is more -> and more means don’t stop -> the edge of existence comes to an end with Bonnies breasts bouncing and heaving -> she collapses next to me with heavy breath and shivering moans. Her body is writhing and reeling; my heavenly angel come to earth. I was no longer knocking on Heavens door but yet like Thomas Bates, a stranger in its many rooms. I already roll on for all eternity and now doing so with my muse made it even more enjoyable. As far as I am concerned its just US-> and Them -> on constant repeat, a carousal of methodic melodies that I knew I would eventually wake from- > but If I’m dreamin on this cloud of crytal nose candy -> then Bonnie -> baby -> don’t chu wake.
This is where I connect to you -> directly to you -> all of you. All of you within earshot -> striking distance -> the most intimate of embraces -> and everything in-between. This is where I connect to you -> all day -> everyday -> like last time /blackslash ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Havent you boys heard that all that this is -> is a battle of words between three ordinary men -> so says the man with the gun and his finger on the pulse of time. This is a battle that none of you can win; despite all of your heroic “Team WCF efforts.” Yah -> remind me to throw that delightful finger paint picture of burlesque putridity up on the company fridge.
Fuckin’ Fiuccboi Faggots that aint even got a damn sense or clue in the world -> even if they went and explored the Milky Wat Galexy for the rest of their meaningless existence. You dudes better set your controls to Stun because Zombie McMorris isn’t even phased by all this ( LOL A fuckin Star Trek pun? Shee-it, I’m ILL’R than I thought.) Speakin of dat, Teddy-> We gone get to you in a fuckin bit. It gone be a while so why don’t you fire up Gimp and wax off a could of red ovals over a pre-rendered dot.Gif for me -> I need something to laugh at while I eat my morning breakfast of cocaine and Adderall -> Fuckin scrub.
Sorry -> what? -> Jason says I’m gobblin up all the nuts on him because he’s the weakest of Zero Entertainment. Aight son -> LOL you up next. Fuckin Danny Boy got them body Bags on deck like:
“Massah ZMAC, I done did fletch them body bags like you did wanted. Yess’ah I deed.”
I’ll get you last, Danny.
LOL -> I knew you would. So be a good fuckin pleb and drag me up a body bag for Mr. Cash because he’s so un-fucking creative he has to spell it the regular way like that’s going to make us take him extra super serious or sum shit-> LOL -> don’t worry -> we fucking don’t.
In fact, Mr. Cash, while I got your attention ( Because you aint got the choice) -> I want to tell you that it is a well and painfully obvious fact that you are the weakest member of that little three man group.
“ Gah, ZMAC, theres four of us.”
LOL Yup, but you aint one of them boy. Here, look I’ll list it out for you. Rank N file of Zero Tolerance.
Numbah one -> the WCF Hardcore title
Numbah Two-> Adrian Archer’s “Magnificent Bastard” Nickname, but not the man himself because the gimmicks too big for his fucking mind to wrap around correctly
Numbah Three-> The Fucking Salt.
I fuckin swear, the Salt is fucking real with chu FGTs dat you should rename the finish of you dudes and just call it “ The Salt” where you all crowd around Gemini Battles twitter account and call people faggots.
Fuckin uninspired fuccbois are UN->IN->FUCKING->SPIRED. I mean like, who are you but a country boy who loves him a fight. * Yawn ..Sorry, ya tired ass gimmick is putting ol’ Z to sleep and we aint even step in that ring but of course you think you got the ol’ one up on ZMAC but by now your mind is in damage control:
“ I’m not a jaggalo. I’m not a faggot. I never even been to Cali. Why is ZMAC killing me?”
Because I can.
And I want you to get used to that phrase. Me and Pantheon will be saying it a lot. We can -> I can -> I will -> DOMINATE YOU FROM BELL -> TO FUCKING -> BELL.
I told jew, son. That Salt is fucking real this week and ya boi Crazy J is sittin in the back crapping himself with Salem Shep like a human centipede (centi-pod?). He grateful, he’ll suck ya dick clean rock style in appreciation that he doesn’t have to be put through the hell that I’m putting you through this week.
I don’t know what you think you can do in that ring; especially against me because let me tell you ( LOL fuck you, you aint got a choice.) You aint doin much except nervously looking back at the ramp in hopes that the human grease paint centipod crawls out of a fissure in your asshole that I done stomped into you with my worn out Doc Martins -> worn out because I’ve done this a lot -> Killin FGTs is my job -> and you -> Just made-> Dah liZ-T.
Tell you straight up while my muse has a lustful heart attack off my Tommy Lee Bitch Beater. Tell you straight up that waxing eighteen dudes from the Dub aint no accident or an easy fucking task ( LOL yes it was). Theres been dudes like you longer than you’ve been a dude like you -> and you play it the fucking worst.
You’re the worst Doc Henry
You’re the worst Jason Kash
You’re the #Fail_Confederate
Do you even believe the hype that you and your buddies bring to the WCF -> That’s cool. A bunch of rag tag Detroit trailer park elitist banding together because alone they are vulnerable and together they are just annoying enough for people to leave their shit alone -> BUT -> LOL -> You in the Dub -> and in the Dub, you cats are toast.
I’mma be straight up and honest with chu doe. I’m going to kill you. I’m going to systematically drive you from this company because I don’t like you and I don’t want you here -> there is no place for another ‘hellbilly’ here or another grease paint grown man with parental issues on par with that of a hormonal ridden pre-teen. Get the fuck outta here -> You aint got no credibility dream of, let alone speak off.
That’s a nice set of trios titles. Be a shame if a coked up mad man stole it #spoilers. What do you got though? A fucking legacy? A legacy of:
“ I’m not with them. I’m not with them but I’m with them.”
Is that the philosophy of Zero Tolerance; be annoying fuccbois till you get called out on it then run and hide like scolded dogs? Sorry nig ( LOL not sorry) Am I in the Meta ( LOL fuck you, ZMAC is dat Meta).
ZMAC is the Meta, the Ultimate, while Jason Cash is on bottom bunk while the rest of ZT make mayonase fuckin sandwiches.
LOL You guys remember that joke; classic -> like that k-k-klassik A-1 ass whoopin I’mma bring to you on Sunday night. And if you be thinkin that a fatal four way will save you ( LOL you fuckin scrub) it won’t.
Truth be told -> and you know that ZMAC always be on that truth serum trip like Andre Holmes on dat Purple Drank -> You are the weakest nigguh up on Zero Tolerance.
You got the weakest story
You got the weakest shoot
You got the weakest gimmick
And you got the weakest stable.
Serious -> I’mma give it to you straight like a straw ( put a little flex on it ) -> You are hawt gah-bage on a tin roof in a Texas boarder town. It be like a hunnit fifty up there and you bois just be stinkin’ –> N’ Smellin’ -> N’ stankin’ it up some more.
So I want you to run along after this Sunday -> Run back to “I’m not a juga-LOLZ, so stop calling me that,” Crazy J and tell him what you did heard. Tell him what you did done.
Tell homeboy that you tried. Tell him that you gave it the ol’ Southern effort mixed in a little more of that southern com’fit. Tell him that yah, ZMAC should die and you hope that he burns in hell.
Come at me, Fuccboi. Make the grandest of attempts this Sunday night when you square off against Zombie McMorris, a serial career killah -> watch me eat cocoa-puffs out cha asshole because I chew up jobbers like you on the regular. Then you boys can get down on ya knees and suck my THICK like everybody else whose K-Rossed my path and got fucking bodied for their trouble. But don’t worry Crazy J, you aint gotta give me dome rock -> but cha friend Jay Sea -> He going poon to snout on this Coked Up Mad Man.
Crazy J, greased painted bafoon that you are; I am going to sexually assault your friend while you watch in horror. I’m going to do it LIVE in front of thousands of people. It’ll great too because they’ll all think that this is an act -> a game -> some kind of Twizt’d Dark Carnival -> if you will ( LOL and you will). I’m going to go ultra-violent on Jay Sea, dat used up cunt -> dat good for nothing poon that I couldn’t even get stiff too -> But I’mma use him anyway. Use him up -> because -> ITS ALL YOUR FAULT.
Because You, Crazy J, started this-> and like every other mistake in your life -> someone close to you -> is going to pay for it.
So Jason Cash, or Cash with the “$” symbol -> even though you aint eveah drew a fuckin dime in your life -> while your down there on Sunday -> bobbin your pretty little face off my immortal nut sack -> I want you to look up at me.
I want to see your eyes -> I want to SEA your tears -> I want to peer into your soul and see Crazy Jerimiah; this is for him after all. Then Jason, I’m going to dump your curb stomped, Axe Wounded husk of a faygo slut body into a field somewhere up eight mile -> You can sing a song about it.
[ I’m sorry ma’ma /
I didn’t mean to hurt you/
I neveah meant to make you cry.. ]
# Sing_Dat_Chorus
I’m sure four grown men never meant to disappoint their parents how I’d gamble at least two of you came from broken homes -> So this isn’t exactly new to you -> but its going to feel like the first time -> all the time. It is not coincidence that this is what, our first time in the ring? IDK, I cant remember. If its not then I fuckin no showed it and, whelp -> this is fucking new for you.
But see, this isn’t new for me. Steam rolling through faygo covered fools and cliched cowboys ain’t exactly a tough challenge. In fact, there aint no challenge in this. After Sunday night, the house that Zero Tolerance built -> attempted to build with the Horror Kore strap and those Trios belts is going to be foreclosed on.
Sorry but the stable with the five fucking world champions has a few ups on ya.
But you go believe Bates that Coraly Black and Stingrayson Price are the invaders -> when they are two of the guys that built this fucking company whose teet you’re trying to suckle from.
But see, ya’ll are not used to teats. You -> like Bates -> are used to dicks -> you’re used to egos being stroked and everyone telling you how fucking good you are ( LOL if anyone told you that, I’ll choke them out myself) -> You’re used to being the Beta among the Charles. You dudes are the B-group that gets called in when the rosters low because you’re just decent hands that can work but once the Alphas come home to do coke, fuck bitches and eat chicken wings -> ya’ll don’t know what the fuck to do.
Whelp. I’mma tell you what to do, Jason Cash. Leave. Trust me when I tell you that WCF will be fine without the collective think tank that is “ Zero Entertainment.”
We were fine without SPAC, Genesis, Cryogenics, The Pack, The Perfect Alliance, Rebbelution, Dark Side of Terchery, Bravado, Church of the Dark Saints, Danger Tainment, The Family, The Adam Young Experience, And MS-13.
And there is a shit ton more that I’m missing -> why am I missing them -> because they fucking suck and no one remembers -> Just like in six months when end your so called ‘careers’ -> no one is going to remember you.
But I will.
I’ll remember you because career are like scalps. And I want my scalps -> Because I’m not a magnificent bastard -> I’m an inglorious one and a sick guy.
So while you wana play confederate drunk at your local Applebees getting cawked off two dollar Coors specials -> ZMAC is here, in the eather waxing your punk ass for the crimes that cha boi Crazy Jay done committed -> after all, we can send him a fruit basket for this.
B-T-Dubs, Jason Cash, I like purple lipstick rings on my cock-> It goes well with my yellow eyes and black fucking heart; deal with it ( LOL cuz you aint got a choice). I mean, its not like you’re about to bust out the promo of your fucking life. Then again, you probably are. You probably will go try hard Rain Man Majestic and to you, them crayons got color but to a Coked Up Mad Man -> I don’t even fucking notice.
NEWS FLASH! -> Right? Right? RIIGHTT… Za Wardo is on fire because of the dank promos that Jason Cash is dropping from the hollowed billionaire homes of Zero Tolerance. So! How is that news station going? Where is that ZT LIVE News Cast since Pantheon walked onto the scene?
You cant say much about it.
“ Yah, we won Trios. Yay!” Pat cha selves on the dick for a week and then that stops because Pantheon -> my crew -> been stompin’ out fools and fuccbois alike. Put that on your news cast.
“Tonight on ZT world news: Jason Cash gets his shit pushed in by ZMAC and Crazy J has PTSD flashbacks from a concert ten years ago… More at eleven.”
Now, you see, Zombie McMorris is so much more than what you think. I am vile. I am putrid. I am a million layers of festering verbal hell just waiting to sink my fangs into the skin of my next supple white boy victim. I am a furious and quickening poison the likes of which you have never seen and will never see again. Your little talent agency can travel all over this country, all over this world to try and find a replica of he that is one of a kind. It is this one of a kind, destroyer of the human psyche and emotional reservoir that you, Jason Cash are going to meet with on Sunday night.
It is you, Jason Cash, whose supple white neck I am going to sink my fangs into and rip out -> tear to pieces-> consume -> digest -> shit out -> and mail back to your little insignificant gaggle of compatriots. Hmp, you can show it on your news cast; maybe then someone will watch it. But Sunday night, Jason Cash -> The world is watching you. Zombie McMorris will be watching you and boy, I am not going to take my eyes off you until your tonsil deep in Crazy J’s living nightmare.
Then its onto him.
Salem Shepard…Run. Run Fast and never look back.
Because this is not a fight that any of you can win.
.. .. … As always it is my muse that crashes me back to reality with her soft voice, deep eyes and cute smile. Bonnie snuggled up close to me, burying her face into my chest. Her neck, back and legs all contort into various positions as she stretches out; the final decent of her climactic freefall. She coo’s and giggles softly as she rolls over on her left side; wiggling her perfect little ass as she finds that sweet spot in the mattress to drift off with. With the champagne on ice and the hardcore soft porn on late night Cinemax; there was not much I could except stare up at the fancy ceiling fan in my penthouse suite. All of Pantheon has a penthouse room in Pantheon tower but I have it all to my own this weekend. While I would enjoy nothing more than laying next to my muse all night, I got this Poon-Guinea Blue Kona Karush stompin through my veins like a Kaiju through a quiet little mountain town. Part of me wanted to scoop up my muse and scale Pantheon Tower proper and howl at the moon like the Mad Man that I am in The Shining, moon.; I’d be eating silver bullets like candy corn. But Nah, that wasn’t going to happen. I don’t need to sleep. Fuck, I don’t even need to eat or drink. Immortality can be great, except it means that sleeping and dreaming next to my muse is almost impossible. I’ll let her sleep a bit, I know she needs it.
Springing myself out of bed, I throw my pants on and grab a soft pack of camel filters from the night stand; Jared would be missing these and that will make them all the more sweeter to my lips. Taking the smokes in my hand I walk over to the balcony and perch myself on the railing with one leg dangling, flirting with a sixty-six story drop. Truth be told, I don’t even like Camel filters; I don’t even care for cigarettes at all. However, these were Jared’s and I’mma spark each and every one of these nasty little bitches up. Fuck you six G, you ain’t gettin’ em’ back. I’ll start by sparking up this one right here, third one in, top row from the left. That one was your favorite, I know that it was, It’s my favorite too.
Pressing the filter in my lips I spark it up with my solid gold Zippo. It is funny how this little four inch stick of dried leaves and rat poison kills mother fuckers and they buy it by the carton. They talk about how it releases stress- they don’t know what stress is. Stress is knowing that the woman in the next room is the woman of your dreams except that you cant actually dream of her. Deep down wanting to spend the rest of your life with her but in reality its just the rest of her life. Literally every encounter I have is just one terminal bout with empathy. It is like bedside manner while Grampa Bruce buys the farm in that shaky twenty o’ seven economy, terrible results. Guess I’ll just smoke these till the sun comes up in a few hours. Maybe I’ll get cancer and die.. Maybe then I’ll final dream of the one that I love.
________________________________
Chapter II: Love and Dying
Later that night, after the sun came up to the sounds of my muse grinding on my cod piece, the sun jerked it a few times and went to bed especially early. I tried to offer it a bump of coke but he was like: ‘ Nah, I got work the morning,’ fuckin’ light weight. However, an all day fuck session makes a grown woman hungry so we went out to an oyster bar by the shore; only a few minute walk from Pantheon Tower. We were sitting across from each other at a table that was up against the railing of the restaurant patio, at the end of the sandy beach. The moon was out and light up the water off the beach, giving us a more romantic feel. There was a flicking glass candle between us as we ate oysters and wild caught swordfish. That accented the mood.
“So, there was something that I’ve been wondering?” Asks Bonnie as she sucks down an oyster. “Why did you join Pantheon?”
“Flash ask me.” I replied, taking a sip of my scorpion bowl. “He knew that I’m an important asset to the group. With all of this ‘outsider’ talk, I am a proven champion. I’m here in WCF before and after Mexico, I’m also one of the best strikers and verbal shooters in the history of the company.”
“It just seems so left field for you.” Says Bonnie, saking her head and taking a sip from her Fog Cutter.
“ Why? I am one of the most loyal and capable tag wrestlers in WCF; my ring psychology alone is second to none.”
Bonnie flashes a smile. “That’s true. I’m really happy for you that you’re getting this opportunity. You deserve to be at the top of the card with them. I don’t care what anyone says, Southpaw.”
“So what about us, Bonnie?” I mutter before wiping my mouth with a sweaty palm.
“It-it’s fun,” She starts, trying to plot her course carefully. “I really enjoy my time with you but with my job you know I cant get too attached. Besides, how many women have you been with in all your life times?” Bonnie tried to Segway out of the question with another question as I try to bring it back around.
“Been with, or loved?”
“Loved,” she smirked. “I don’t think I want to know the number of women you’ve slept with.” The Amount of women that I have loved, truly loved made me pause, look down and think for a moment – a long moment. “ Zombie, Southpaw.. Hello?” Bonnie waves her hand in front of my face, trying to pull me out of my trance.
"One. Only one.” I stumbled my way through three words. “It- it – I-…”
“It’s ok, Z; it’s just us. You can tell me.”
I took a deep breath, skidding my palms on my jeans and look away. “It took four life times until I found her.”
“That’s a long time. What was the first time like, you know.. how did you die?
“I died in my mid twenties; I drowned.” Taking myself back to that point in my original life was like being swept away in a rip tide; the same rip tide that swept me away and dragged me to my first death.
“Is that why your body is as young as it is?”
“Yah, that’s right.” It was hard to think back to that time and recall what happens and how my immortality effects my body. Then she asked me a question that put an arrow through my heart. It pained me but it was just a natural question.
“Who was she?” Bonnie asked as my words got caught in my lungs.
‘she’s not you,’ My mind screamed, ‘she’s not you.’ I couldn’t bring myself to tell Bonnie her name. I could end human lives in battle without a thought but love was different. I – I heard that all was fair in love and war but love just isn’t fair at all. So I decided to tell the story anyway because Bonnie as taken my hand and assured me again that everything was alright.
“ I went back to the middle ages and met a women… but… she was taken by the plague. I died in battle some time later, which I learned is hard to do. Then I was sent back to the present.” I words failed me as I trailed off in torrent of emotion. “I missed her. I missed her so bad I tried to go back. I – I – didn’t even know if it was going to work but I had to try.”
“What did you do, Southpaw?”
“I slit my wrists and drowned in a hotel bath tub. To this day, drowning is one of the few ways I know I can die and be sent backwards.”
“Did you meet her again?” Asks Bonnie, becoming more engrossed in my story.
“I found myself back in the same time period with the same woman but this time I caught the plague, only, I didn’t die.”
“An immortal coked up madman in ..”
“England.”
“So an immortal coked up madman in England isn’t going to go over well.”
“No, its not and no, it didn’t go over well. Not wanting to see her get sick again, I left and lived in the woods until my body healed itself; That’s how I know Illness cant kill me. I came back when I was better and found that she was still there. The only problem is that people thought she cured me and called her a witch. They burned her at the stake and I lost my head; that was the last time that I saw her.”
“I’m so sorry. That must have been tough for you.” Says Bonnie as her eyes well up with tears.
“ It was. I spent hundreds of life times figuring out what can and cannot cause my death. I know what makes me die.. but I’m starting to think love is the only thing that can actually kill me.” With that Bonnie gets up from her seat and comes over to hug me with sadness in her heart; an embrace that I will never forget.
__________________
Chapter III: #reZpkt
Kilauea volcano, carter top. Hawaii
I sat atop the great and mighty Hawaiian mountain that boiled and bubbled with the liquid foundation of this floating rocky orb that we -> they -> You peons call earth. I bang the poon that knows the celestial truths and she rides the dong that knows the extent of all human capabilities.
#2025 #Dat_Dr_He_Be_In #Scarfs_Out_Dis_Fall
This right here is the mountain top; this is your pinnacle. Thomas Bates and Gemini Battle; it’s that steep cliff. Its that NFL ‘over fourty’ cliff. Ya’ll gone drop off and fall into the rumbling organic stew that is nothingness. But hey, it’s ok. Thomas Bates owned a large room filled with heavy objects, padded mats and maybe even a juice bar.
#Squad_Goals #Lawl-complishments
And Gemni Battle, this mother fucker is an alien. Like holy shit, and I thought I jumped the shark with a shitty haircut but you had to had an alien walk down from the heaven and deliver himself up your asshole to make you a talent .. and you know… have the company shut down and do away with some of its top paid talent.
#200bucks #Seth_Hates_Deadepool
But don’t get too excited. That’s just political and social commentary. I know who my ‘opponents’ are. Teddy Blaze and Danny Anderson. Now Danny, I told you I’d get to you last and I will because quite frankly you might not even be in this match by the time Sunday rolls around.
So Teddy Blaze, barring the glasses, barring the gifs, who are you; because this time around I’ve heard that you’ve been a busy little son of the sun. I heard that you were desperate, that you, the son of the sun where at the land of the rising sun so that you may rise from ashes of your lack of knowkage on that belt that you’re holding -> my belt. But that’s cool son, I mean, other people got to have the chance and clearly you’re better than Gem but this week rolling into Helloween -> I’m starting to question. I question your integrity and your will to be in this company and yet you stand on the side of “Team WCF” when clearly you’re apart of them crazy invaders who were here six months ago but because we don’t suck dick and tell all them new cats that they get a gold star and need to work at shit, we’re the fucking bad guys.
#Run_On_Sentences #Runnin_On #25/8
Honestly, Teo that’s what this is. Adrian Archer, Damien Kaine -> two nobodies -> Two team captains that are going to get murked worse than Jason Cash is about to get murked this week. So lets talk about you and you’re plans this week, Teddy Blaze. Let us talk about how you were talked to and talked into Team WCF first, above all else. More importantly, lets talk about the people who hard skipped team WCF when asked. People like Sarah Twilight, Oblivion, Doc Henry, Steven Singh, Kidd Krazzy.. Honestly, I could name half the fed and half the fed was like:
“Fuck you FGTS, I’m not getting shit canned by Pantheon.”
So, Teddy Blaze don’t act all high and mighty about you being the first man to join the team because you were the first choice. Trust me. You’re the filler to this Boston Crème pie from a collection of dudes that hail from the Midwest to the mid Atlantic. They don’t know about New England sweet cakes. They know about Cleveland Steamers. They know about taking a big ol’ Taco Bell dump on your chest and rubbing that steaming pile into your very soul.
You won’t be clean after this, Teddy. You could throw yourself at the mercy of this volcano and you won’t get clean; not one bit. The only thing that can save your soul is pantheon. However, the issue with that is that we don’t want to.
LOL
We want you to live with that choice. You’re poor misinformed choice. I mean, honestly, theres three world champions on Team Pantheon for this match. I’d be a world champion except Seth hates Deadpool. That’s kool, doe. Like that aint not reason hate but it is a real to kill a mofo in the heat of bloody fiery passion. So if you couldn’t tell, O’ son of the Sun; I am a very *EXTREMLY passionate guy.
This week is a lot of pressure for you. This is your chance to show the world and your captains that you are a worthy choice. Its Jason Cash’s chance to show himself that he aint the weakest fuccboi of his bunch but that’s going to go over like Adam Young.
This week Teddy, Teo, we’re cool enough for informalities. Teo, I’m going to jack you up and make you regret holding that Internet Title. That Dank Pale Rider is still lurkin’ and that Huffy of Doom is still riding hard and its going to ride up on you. Sunday night I’m going to stare you in the face and paint bush those stupid glasses right off of your fucking face.
I am the man to beat in this match. I am the man to beat in WCF. I have become the standard bearer and key to the main event. I would be the main event, the top guy and world champion but I do me. I do me in the ways that no one else is doing themselves. All these tough guys, crazys, supposed disregard of human life is fucking laughable when you join together and call yourselves retarded names like Zero Tolerance or The Brotherhood.
Fucking dumpster fires, and I should know; I live in a fucking dumpster. However, where I hang my head compared to the lives that that and the rest of Team WCF lead for starkly contrasted. Yet, wait, no.. Zero tolerance are supposed to be fucking billionaires. Billionaires that clearly cant be paid that much by Seth Lerch and quite frankly couldn’t have made that through wrestling because wrestling is a shitbox media platform. But what do I know, right? RIGHT? RRIIGHHTT.
My word to you, Tedddy would be to back out of Hellimination. Back out of the match that’s going to stain the career that you’ve built as the premier Peoples Champion of our time. Back of the match that will undoubtedly undo your hardwork and dedication to this company, pre-Mexico.
And most of all, back out of our match this week because I respect you, and with that respect, I’m going to have to fucking end you. You deserve no less than Zombie McMorris going full throttle Dirty South on your ass until it squirts buttermilk. Maybe then, Team WCF and this Post-Mexico New Era can suck your teat rather than hop on that Norse God train and ride that to gravy town when Teddy Blaze is cheaper. You brought all this upon yourself, Teddy. And Za Wardo, brought me -> to you -> to kill a fuccboi for betraying himself and the boys that he ran with for so long.
So that leaves you, Danny. Mr. Anderson, you’ve been in WCF HQ so many times I bet they gave you your own door; a fucking revolving door that leads you to a roped off little maze of velvet ropes that comes to a head with a turn-style. As you approach there’s a contract and a pen. All you got to do is sign it and walk through the gate. Then you follow another maze of red ropes that lead you to the same turn-style that has another contracting facing you and all you got to do is sign it and free yourself from your own abject lack of creativity.
You treat WCF like a low grade furniture store that offers people a free cup of coffee and just return everyday. Or maybe this is like a Planet Fitness. No lunks allowed, no real people who actually want to get in shape and change their lives. No, Danny, you sign up for zero down and show up for a week or two, all the while the gym ( that’s WCF in this case) takes your money and then you only show up for free pizza day. Then we don’t see you again until you remember, that the Dub has your money so you better make use of it. Maybe you forgot a shitty watch or pair of glasses in one of the lockers so you came back to claim it but stayed to watch some fifty-something soccer mom with struggle to use a stair machine. It’s a sad fucking state of affairs, your life. I certainly don’t envy you. In fact, I don’t even think that you envy you. You want out so fucking bad and it is painfully obvious. That’s alright, Danny. You should Join Team WCF; I heard they are recruiting for a suicide mission. It is a suicide mission like hanging off the edge of this volcano. The only difference is that I’m the only mother fucker that one die from it; same with our match. Everyone stands to lose something except for me. Truthfully speaking because I’m the only mother fucker that’s going to win this match. Honestly though, it is a shame that I’m going to end up pinning you. I’m going to curb stomp you, Falcon kick Teddy and hit the FGT KLR on Cash. Then again, someone’s got to get pinned and you’re used to things like that. All this match shows is that the loose cannon of Pantheon is still more dangerous than all those little hot pistols that think themselves to be wrestlers or the face of this company. But with a face like yours, who need Fox to fuck up the source material.
LOL
DEUCES BITCH!
