The following column was posted on whirlybirdz.com The opinions expressed therein are solely that of the offer, and do not reflect the opinions of either Terrence Thompson nor Wendy Briese.
Hey kids!
Well, I’m fairly sure everyone has become familiar with the events of Criminal Intent by now. Long Story Short, me, Anders, Cara, and Belle faced Gambini’s goons for the right to control SVW, and we lost. Not just lost, we kind of got punked. I mean, yeah. There was some serious cheating going on, but considering our opponents, we should have expected that. We blew it. All four of us. Plain and simple. No excuses.
Now, I’m not going to stand here and get all mopey or emo about this shit. I apologized to Spence, and to my teammates, and that’s all I owe anyone. What happened happened, can’t change it, move the fuck on.
Just one thing. I’m suddenly finding my place of employment a much less desirable place to work than I did a couple of weeks ago. I can’t figure on it. Maybe it’s that I’m being in bullshit matches. Maybe it’s because my boss is a mafioso cunt. Maybe it’s because I just dont give a fuck.
So here’s the deal. Fuck you, Anthony Gambini. And fuck you, Catherine McCallister.
Now I’m not quitting. Oh no, I’ve got a contract to uphold, and there’s nothing to be had in walking away. Not when there’s two lives to be made a living hell in the near future.
Because the way I see it, control of SVW should come with a price. Normally, I’d say the price would have been the blood and sweat of the people who won that competition, but let’s be honest, pulling feet off the ropes, bullshit DQs, and Alvin Shepherd are hardly winning with effort.
So I’m going to have to impose a different kind of fee. A fee that is going to cost my bosses every ounce of willpower and dignity they have left. Not that those shameless whores had much of either to begin with, but I can only really take what’s available.
This war ain’t over, Gambini. You may have occupied the territory, but the residents are still restless, and they’re more than happy to put up a hefty insurgence against you. And I’ll be in front throwing as many rocks as I can at the picket line.
And what are you going to do about it? Because the way I see it, if you fire me, that only proves that you couldn’t handle me. That you couldn’t put up with one rogue fat boy in your organization. Surely you and all your thugs can handle little ole me, right?
So you’re gonna do what you think will hurt me, then. Throw me in this three on one handicapped match against Johnny Moxie and Revolution X, and teach me a lesson about opposing you. Just like you’re turning Stark and Stone against each other, and I’m sure doing God knows what to Belle the moment you get the chance.
Good fucking luck with that, linguine breath.
Cara and Anders are the best you have in this company now, and they’re going to show that by tearing the house down. Me? I’m going to tear the house down too, but not in a way you’re going to like. In the coming weeks, I”m going to bring every member of Revolution X, including your precious champion, crashing to their knees. It’ll be an insurgency of such high regard that Yassir Arafat will be watching from hell, and he’ll facepalm and go “why the hell didn’t I think of that?”
And what are you going to do in return? Beat me up? Bitch, please. Wendy practically does that every other day. I’ve gotten used to it.
You’re not going to get used to this though. No sir. In fact, by the time Extreme Prejudice rolls around, there’s only going to be one thought running through yours, and Cat’s brains as you looked around at the Kingdom that the Northwestern Nightmare brought down.
“Oh. The Humanity.”
Polla Out.
Motherfucker.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
EPISODE 157: Where She Belongs
Tuesday February 7, 2012
The Nest- Kitchen
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:17 PM Local Time
It’s certainly not often that we get to see a part of The Nest on television outside of the living room, but today, that is the case, as we open our scene in the Nest’s kitchen instead. It’s a fairly nice kitchen, especially by cookie-cutter suburban homes standards. The food preparation area is u-shaped, with the oven at the enclosed end of the U, a microwve mounted above it, and the sink and dishwasher on the right hand side facing in from the open end. The left hand side features the refridgerator, and plenty of counter space. The equipment is definitely all in the newer, mid-upper end quality.
Considering this IS her promo, it’s also not surprising that Wendy is also in the kitchen. What would be shocking is Wendy’s attire- the redhead has gone completely over the top today. Wendy’s already well known for her modest attire, but at least her clothing carries somewhat of a modern style. Today... well, the only word that could even begin to describe her clothing is “frock,” making her look like a washerwoman from the 19th century instead of a 21st century female pro-wrestler.
Despite the stifling attire, Wendy is smiling, although she definitely looks a little warm. Still, with the clash of her old-fashioned look and the modern kitchen, combined with a certain glint of her eye, there is definitely a sardonic quality about this.
“You know, Johnny. I understand how difficult it must be for you. I know that you must be confused and overwhelmed. It must have been quite a traumatic experience when you stumbled through that temporal warp, and emerged into this strange new world where women are allowed to vote and drive cars and even compete in a combat sport against their male superiors!”
The sarcasm level here would be about equivalent to the promo she cut in Dallas just before Violent Night.
“So to make this all a little less confusing for you, I’m here in one of the two rooms in the house that you think a woman actually belongs in. My apologies, but the thought of a man like you so much as glimpsing my bedroom over a television screen gives me the creeps, so here we are. So what would you like, Johnny?”
Wendy reaches over, and with a bit of effort, lifts up a rather sizeable bag of potatoes, cradling it in her arms as she turns back to the camera.
“After all, you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re aware of my Irish ancestry. And like any good Irishwoman... I can cook potatoes in any way you can imagine. So what will it be, Moxie? Would you like them whipped, or scalloped, or baked, or twice baked, or mashed, or fried, or... how about Potatoes O’Brien?”
Wendy pauses, as if she’s actually expecting Moxie to scream his answer into the television. With a shrug, she turns and sets the potatoes back down, moving to a nearby bowl.
“Or would you just prefer some breakfast? I have the quintessential Irish cereal here, Lucky Charms. Oh, and of course, since we drink whiskey like it’s milk, I poured that on them instead. Or maybe, you’re the kind of person who subscribes into the theory ‘you are what you eat’. In that case...
Wendy sets the bowl of Lucky Charms down, and turns to a plate that has been covered by a cloth. She hesitates just for a second, then pulls the cloth off, stepping away quickly. Underneath is a roast of ham that looks like it has been sitting in a swamp for the better part of a month. The ham is completely green, with little patches of white fuzzy mold growing on it. Wendy moves away from the ham, a nauseous look on her face, but the camera stays on the rotting meat.
“Because you are the slimiest, most disgusting, rotten, foul, decrepit pig I have EVER had the misfortune of knowing.”
Now the camera turns to Wendy, who’s now leaning against the sink, still looking a little queasy, but better now that she’s put some distance between her and the ham.
“I could go on and on about the past here, I suppose. Recite all the horrible things you’ve done over the years, whether in SVW, or FFW, or elsewhere. But what’s the point? We’d be here all day, and I’m sure everyone well remembers what you’ve done. So let’s discuss the future for a second, Moxie. What’s going to be happening over the next week or so. A week that, if all goes well, is going to become the worst of your professional career.”
“You feel it too, don’t you? Everything is about to fall apart for you, and it will culminate on Sunday. Because not only are you going to lose your title back to someone who actually deserves it, whether Nathan or Rex, but your beneficiary, Anthony Gambini, is going to be shown the door as well, leaving you with NO ONE to enable you.”
“But when the dust settles, and you look back at the week everything came crashing down, you’re going to remember that Thursday night, FFW Velocity from Miami, Florida, was when it all began.”
Wendy tugs at the collar of her dress for a second, then brushes a loose strand of red hair from her face.
“I didn’t ask for this match. Honestly, considering what an unprofessional disgrace you were the last two times you appeared here in FFW, I’m shocked that Mr. Kincaid would allow you within a hundred feet of our ring again. But he chose you for the talent exchange, and he chose me for your opponent. And while I did not ask for it, I couldn’t be more honored that the woman he feels is the best candidate to put you in your place is myself.”
“I’m not going to be blindfolded here. You won’t have Gambini around to make it so you have no chance of losing. There won’t be any excuses for you this time, Moxie. The only way out of this match with your pride intact is beating me fair and square. Do you have what it takes to do that? You might... but I don’t think even you believe you do. You wouldn’t resort to the garbage you do if you did.”
Wendy pauses, and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.
“Unfortunately... there still is a wildcard here in this match. A variable I was hoping wouldn’t be there, but... it is what it is. Of course, I’m speaking of the guest referee for this match... Starla McCloud.”
Another deep breath, and Wendy grimaces.
“Starla... I know you don’t like me. I know you think it should be you holding the No Surrender Championship, and I know that you’re counting down the days until March 31 when you have another chance at it. We have a less than amiable history, and I know that I’m to blame for at least some of it.”
“But that’s not what tonight is about. This isn’t about the A-List and the Mafia, this isn’t about the No Surrender title. This is about me facing a man who is a disgrace to our sport, and an insult to our company. He doesn’t respect you any more than he respects me, or anyone else in FFW. Moxie’s slithered away from justice one too many times, and I want this to be the week all that finally catches up with him. And I know that the only way I can control that happening is to do it myself.”
Wendy looks into the camera, and behind the determination in her eyes, there’s a measure of pleading... even desperation.
“So I’m asking... no I’m BEGGING you, Dr. McCloud. Call this down the middle, with no assistance to either side. I don’t want Moxie walking out of this with any excuses. And more importantly, I don’t want anything ruining this for me. I don’t care if you think I’m the worst wrestler in the history of mankind... let me sink or swim on my own here. If I can’t beat Moxie in my own company’s ring, then I’ll gladly face the music of my own failure. But please, Starla. Just... let me do this.”
Wendy nods to the camera, then turns to walk back across the kitchen, wrinkling her nose as she does, as she approaches the moldy ham.
“As far as you go, Moxie. I hope you’re ready, because you’ve sown a lot of seeds over the years, and it’s about time for the harvest. Nathan and Rex have their scythe’s ready, and they’ll reap the best of the crop, but I’m going to be in that field first, and I guarantee you, I will cut enough of a swath through you so that you remember where this all started. And after it’s all over, your ego, your pride, your chauvanism, your cheating ways, your awful attitude, your reputation, all that you’ve flaunted everywhere you walked is going to end up EXACTLY where it belongs...”
Wendy quickly grabs the plate, and with a quick motion, shoves it off the counter, where it falls neatly into the open garbage can sitting nearby. Wendy slams the lid closed, and then looks back at the camera, smiling grimly, while we fade to black.
The Nest- Kitchen
Indianapolis, Indiana
3:17 PM Local Time
It’s certainly not often that we get to see a part of The Nest on television outside of the living room, but today, that is the case, as we open our scene in the Nest’s kitchen instead. It’s a fairly nice kitchen, especially by cookie-cutter suburban homes standards. The food preparation area is u-shaped, with the oven at the enclosed end of the U, a microwve mounted above it, and the sink and dishwasher on the right hand side facing in from the open end. The left hand side features the refridgerator, and plenty of counter space. The equipment is definitely all in the newer, mid-upper end quality.
Considering this IS her promo, it’s also not surprising that Wendy is also in the kitchen. What would be shocking is Wendy’s attire- the redhead has gone completely over the top today. Wendy’s already well known for her modest attire, but at least her clothing carries somewhat of a modern style. Today... well, the only word that could even begin to describe her clothing is “frock,” making her look like a washerwoman from the 19th century instead of a 21st century female pro-wrestler.
Despite the stifling attire, Wendy is smiling, although she definitely looks a little warm. Still, with the clash of her old-fashioned look and the modern kitchen, combined with a certain glint of her eye, there is definitely a sardonic quality about this.
“You know, Johnny. I understand how difficult it must be for you. I know that you must be confused and overwhelmed. It must have been quite a traumatic experience when you stumbled through that temporal warp, and emerged into this strange new world where women are allowed to vote and drive cars and even compete in a combat sport against their male superiors!”
The sarcasm level here would be about equivalent to the promo she cut in Dallas just before Violent Night.
“So to make this all a little less confusing for you, I’m here in one of the two rooms in the house that you think a woman actually belongs in. My apologies, but the thought of a man like you so much as glimpsing my bedroom over a television screen gives me the creeps, so here we are. So what would you like, Johnny?”
Wendy reaches over, and with a bit of effort, lifts up a rather sizeable bag of potatoes, cradling it in her arms as she turns back to the camera.
“After all, you’ve made it pretty clear that you’re aware of my Irish ancestry. And like any good Irishwoman... I can cook potatoes in any way you can imagine. So what will it be, Moxie? Would you like them whipped, or scalloped, or baked, or twice baked, or mashed, or fried, or... how about Potatoes O’Brien?”
Wendy pauses, as if she’s actually expecting Moxie to scream his answer into the television. With a shrug, she turns and sets the potatoes back down, moving to a nearby bowl.
“Or would you just prefer some breakfast? I have the quintessential Irish cereal here, Lucky Charms. Oh, and of course, since we drink whiskey like it’s milk, I poured that on them instead. Or maybe, you’re the kind of person who subscribes into the theory ‘you are what you eat’. In that case...
Wendy sets the bowl of Lucky Charms down, and turns to a plate that has been covered by a cloth. She hesitates just for a second, then pulls the cloth off, stepping away quickly. Underneath is a roast of ham that looks like it has been sitting in a swamp for the better part of a month. The ham is completely green, with little patches of white fuzzy mold growing on it. Wendy moves away from the ham, a nauseous look on her face, but the camera stays on the rotting meat.
“Because you are the slimiest, most disgusting, rotten, foul, decrepit pig I have EVER had the misfortune of knowing.”
Now the camera turns to Wendy, who’s now leaning against the sink, still looking a little queasy, but better now that she’s put some distance between her and the ham.
“I could go on and on about the past here, I suppose. Recite all the horrible things you’ve done over the years, whether in SVW, or FFW, or elsewhere. But what’s the point? We’d be here all day, and I’m sure everyone well remembers what you’ve done. So let’s discuss the future for a second, Moxie. What’s going to be happening over the next week or so. A week that, if all goes well, is going to become the worst of your professional career.”
“You feel it too, don’t you? Everything is about to fall apart for you, and it will culminate on Sunday. Because not only are you going to lose your title back to someone who actually deserves it, whether Nathan or Rex, but your beneficiary, Anthony Gambini, is going to be shown the door as well, leaving you with NO ONE to enable you.”
“But when the dust settles, and you look back at the week everything came crashing down, you’re going to remember that Thursday night, FFW Velocity from Miami, Florida, was when it all began.”
Wendy tugs at the collar of her dress for a second, then brushes a loose strand of red hair from her face.
“I didn’t ask for this match. Honestly, considering what an unprofessional disgrace you were the last two times you appeared here in FFW, I’m shocked that Mr. Kincaid would allow you within a hundred feet of our ring again. But he chose you for the talent exchange, and he chose me for your opponent. And while I did not ask for it, I couldn’t be more honored that the woman he feels is the best candidate to put you in your place is myself.”
“I’m not going to be blindfolded here. You won’t have Gambini around to make it so you have no chance of losing. There won’t be any excuses for you this time, Moxie. The only way out of this match with your pride intact is beating me fair and square. Do you have what it takes to do that? You might... but I don’t think even you believe you do. You wouldn’t resort to the garbage you do if you did.”
Wendy pauses, and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes.
“Unfortunately... there still is a wildcard here in this match. A variable I was hoping wouldn’t be there, but... it is what it is. Of course, I’m speaking of the guest referee for this match... Starla McCloud.”
Another deep breath, and Wendy grimaces.
“Starla... I know you don’t like me. I know you think it should be you holding the No Surrender Championship, and I know that you’re counting down the days until March 31 when you have another chance at it. We have a less than amiable history, and I know that I’m to blame for at least some of it.”
“But that’s not what tonight is about. This isn’t about the A-List and the Mafia, this isn’t about the No Surrender title. This is about me facing a man who is a disgrace to our sport, and an insult to our company. He doesn’t respect you any more than he respects me, or anyone else in FFW. Moxie’s slithered away from justice one too many times, and I want this to be the week all that finally catches up with him. And I know that the only way I can control that happening is to do it myself.”
Wendy looks into the camera, and behind the determination in her eyes, there’s a measure of pleading... even desperation.
“So I’m asking... no I’m BEGGING you, Dr. McCloud. Call this down the middle, with no assistance to either side. I don’t want Moxie walking out of this with any excuses. And more importantly, I don’t want anything ruining this for me. I don’t care if you think I’m the worst wrestler in the history of mankind... let me sink or swim on my own here. If I can’t beat Moxie in my own company’s ring, then I’ll gladly face the music of my own failure. But please, Starla. Just... let me do this.”
Wendy nods to the camera, then turns to walk back across the kitchen, wrinkling her nose as she does, as she approaches the moldy ham.
“As far as you go, Moxie. I hope you’re ready, because you’ve sown a lot of seeds over the years, and it’s about time for the harvest. Nathan and Rex have their scythe’s ready, and they’ll reap the best of the crop, but I’m going to be in that field first, and I guarantee you, I will cut enough of a swath through you so that you remember where this all started. And after it’s all over, your ego, your pride, your chauvanism, your cheating ways, your awful attitude, your reputation, all that you’ve flaunted everywhere you walked is going to end up EXACTLY where it belongs...”
Wendy quickly grabs the plate, and with a quick motion, shoves it off the counter, where it falls neatly into the open garbage can sitting nearby. Wendy slams the lid closed, and then looks back at the camera, smiling grimly, while we fade to black.
EPISODE 156: Uprising
We open up and we find ourselves in the daylight of a recreational park in Minneapolis,MN. Despite the cold, several children can be seen in the distance, bundled up in their coats as they swing on monkey bars and fly down slides.
Directly in front of us, we see Wolf Ramsey, dressed in a long trenchcoat and leather gloves, presumably hiding another expensive suit, beside him stands Daniel Pollaski, who is bundled up as well. Both men are staring directly at the camera as Wolf begins speaking.
Wolf: Hello, SVW Nation. Dan and I are here at the park today. Why? Because well, things in SVW have been sort of doom and gloom ever since one Anthony Gambini was sold his shares of the company, and we have come here to enjoy the day, since soon enough, Team Uprising is going to lead SVW back into the daylight at Criminal Intent. Now, perhaps it won’t be as nice as children playing on the playground with all laughter and smiles, but once Mr. Gambini is finally banished from our fine promotion, things will certainly be brighter. Wouldn’t you agree, Dan?
Wolf turns to his fellow manager, who picks up the threads.
Pollaski: Absolutely, dude. I mean, the day he took over SVW is the day SVW began a decline. An easily reversible decline, but a decline nonetheless. And when Me, Belle, Cara, and Anders...
Pollaski gestures behind him, only to stop, realizing he’s doing nothing but pointing at air. He blinks.
Pollaski: Uh... Wolf?
Wolf: Yes, Dan? You were talking about Gambini’s failures...
Pollaski: Yeah, but it seems we have a failure of our own on our hands. A failure to appear by a couple teammates...
Wolf turned around, shaking his head.
Wolf: What are you...Oh...Oh dear. That’s not good.
Wolf looks around, realizing that Anders and Cara are absent. He squints his eyes in suspicion and looks at Pollaski hard.
Wolf: ...What did you do with Cara and Anders? This has your shenanigans written all over it.
Pollaski gives the “Moi?!” pose, looking defensive.
Pollaski: Oh, cause Anders and Cara have never done ANYTHING completely out of line before! If I had anything to do with this, I’d be with THEM, and not here freeing my arse off with YOU.
Wolf: Cara and Anders have been much better recently. You must’ve been a bad influence. Actually, you know what? Nevermind. Forget it. Let’s just go find them.
Pollaski: Fine. But... where do we look? I mean... it’s not like the Twin Cities are BIG or anything...
Wolf: They were here five minutes ago. They could not possibly have gone that far. We’re not even near the street so they had to have walked somewhere nearby.
Wolf turned and pointed to the camera.
Wolf: You...come with us. We’ll get this sorted, and we’ll edit later if we have to.
Wolf turned around and started walking past the playground, the camera following behind him. Pollaski seemed to realize they were actually leaving a couple seconds late and had to hustle a bit to catch up, yelling at Wolf as he did so.
Pollaski: DUDE! Do the words “Let’s go” mean anything to you?
Wolf ignored Pollaski as they continued down the path. The managers both scouring the nearby areas for any sign of Anders and Cara, but we can see nothing except a few kids running around under their parents’ supervision. Wolf stops suddenly, looking somewhat frustrated and makes a sharp left turn. As he does so, the camera actually reveals a “bouncy” or “moonwalk” blow-up castle in the distance, apparently with a lot of activity going on inside it. Wolf keeps walking towards it and as we edge towards it..we hear a familiar voice in the distance.
Woman’s Voice: BIZZATCH, PLEASE! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THIS!
Man’s Voice: IT’S ON!
Wolf stops suddenly, right before he passes the castle. He seems to recognize the voices. He turns to Dan slowly.
Wolf: You don’t think...
Pollaski: I hope not. I kinda was hoping they’d gone into a restaurant or something.
Wolf: What restaurant? This is a park.
Pollaski: There’s a Sbarro across the street over there. Speaking of which, since my partners are busy...
Wolf grabs Pollaski by the shirt as the big man tries to walk away, surprisingly strong enough to actually halt the big man in his tracks.
Wolf: No. You will stay here until we finish this.
Suddenly, another shout rings out from the direction of the bouncy castle.
Woman: HEY CARE-BEARS! WASN”T THAT CLOTHESLINE AWESOMESAUCE?!
An eruption of cheers from high-pitched five to eight year old voices shouts up in response and Wolf looks over to realize a crowd of children has started to gather round the entrance of the castle and are cheering wildly as well.
Wolf: You have to be kidding me...
Pollaski: No kidding. Cara’s clothelines have like zero power in them. Her dropkicks though... yeech.
Wolf ignored Dan again and made a bee-line to the castle. As he makes it to the entrance, we can see inside and well... yeah. ANders has Cara in a headlock and the kids are all cheering like crazy at this point.
Kids: LET’S GO CARA!
Other Kids: LET’S GO ANDY!
Anders: Don’t call me Andy! God, what the hell Have you all talked to Rex or something!?
Anders keeps he headlock on his tag partner but then suddenly picks his right hand up and ...delivers a noogie to Cara?!
Cara: AHHHHH!!! IT HURTS!!! MAKE IT STOP!
Wolf opens his mouth to speak...but he has nothing to say...he simply facepalms.
Pollaski: One-side, Wolfman. If it’s a match they want, it’s a match they’ll get.
Pollaski slides into the castle, walking up to Cara, and dramatically screaming at her.
Pollaski: DO YOU GIVE UP, CARA? DO YOU GIVE UP? COME ON CARA? DO YOU SUBMIT?
Cara: NEVERR!!!!!!!
Cara suddenly elbows Anders in the gut and the hold gets released. Cara then grabs Anders by the head and delivers a stone cold stunner, but the elevation from the inflated arena has Anders boucne about five feet in the air before coming back down. Cara watches him carefully and just as he lands...she double bounces herself WAY in the air before landing on top of him in a splash!
Cara: HA! TAKE THAT, BIZZATCH!
Anders: Ow....
Pollaski dives down, and starts counting..
Pollaski: ONE! TWO! THR..
Anders kicks out with authority! and Cara flies back. Anders gets back to his feet bouncing slightly as he tries to circle around his tag team partner.
Anders: NOT YET!
Cara squints her eyes at her tag partner and charges at him, screaming so loud that Wolf, Dan, the kids, all people in a ten mile radius cover their ears.
Cara: AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cara goes for a flying kick, and while Anders SHOULD be able to dodge it, he is unable, due the distraction by the deafening screech. And therefore Cara promptly kicks him in the chest, sending him flying back against the wall of the castle. Cara herself falls down on her back but bounces back up and manages to land on her feet, smiling wide.
Wolf finally gets fed up enough to yell.
Wolf: DAMN IT DAN! WE HAVE A PROMO TO SHOOT! Will you stop this?!
Pollaski glares at Wolf, then rolls his eyes.
Pollaski: Fine...
Pollaski shoves Cara from behind, and she goes staggering with a squawk into Anders, the two colliding, and tumbling over and over, before landing in the middle of the castle, Cara on top of Anders. Pollaski quickly, and deftly sits down on Cara’s back.
Pollaski: Onetwothreecarawins.
Pollaski slides off his partners, and gets to his feet, leaving Stark & Stone lying in the castle, as he slides back out.
Pollaski: Gambini said they were gonna face each other after Criminal Intent. After what I just saw... I’m not so sure...
Wolf: They’ll be fine.
Wolf suddenly began to take off his shoes and shockingly slid into the castle himself. He walked up, grabbed Cara and Anders each by the ear as they were getting back to their feet, and dragged them both out of the castle.
Cara/Anders: OW! AH! Ooo! AH! OOWWW! STOP THAT!
Wolf finally lets go of them once the tag team is finally back on solid ground.
Wolf: What were you thinking?
Cara: Wolf...it’s a bouncy castle. What did you expect? For us NOT to have an impromptu wrestling match inside it? Are you insane?
Anders: You have seriously unfair expectations man, and now my ear hurts too.
Pollaski: Shoulda gone to the Sbarro, dudes. He wouldn’t have dragged you out of there...
Wolf: Don’t make assumptions.
Wolf shakes his head and sighs ans Anders and Cara get their shoes back on nearby.
Wolf: I am disappointed in you two. The most important match in your careers. Hell, in the history of SVW happens, and when promo time comes not only to you wander off like a couple of pre-adolescent children, but you do so in order that you can play in a damn inflatable castle and make complete fools of yourselves.
Cara rolls her eyes.
Cara: We’re sorry, Wolf.
Anders cuts her off.
Anders: No we’re not.
Cara: We aren’t?
Anders: No, we aren’t.
Wolf: Oh, really? Would you care to explain, Mr. Stark? Because I would like to hear this. Wouldn’t you, Dan?
Pollaski: Well, I’d say that with all the tension riding on this match, staying loose is a very very important thing. Bouncy castle training sessions are a great way to not only prepare for the big match, but to have fun doing it!
Wolf:...Are you seriously defending them? Seriously? C’mon, Dan.
Pollaski’s eyes narrow, and he looks at Wolf.
Pollaski: ..I’m starting to see why Colleen clocked you...
Cara:...OOOhhhh... FIGHT!
Anders: What? No! No. Damn it, pay attention. Let me explain this. Don’t you realize how you’re acting right now, Wolf?
Wolf turns away from Dan, the scowl that had been forming disappearing suddenly.
Wolf: What do you mean?
Anders: You’re flipping out because Cara and I aren’t fitting what YOU expect us to do right now. You think because we’re having a little fun and don’t want to cut some boring promo saying things that everyone already knows about Douchebag, Angel, and Revolution X, that you need to yell at us, get us back in line, control us...and on a much smaller scale, that makes you EXACTLY like Gambini.
Wolf: What did you just say?
Cara: Oh. Shit. Son.
Cara and Pollaski exchange worried glances.
Pollaski: Dude...
Anders: What do you think started all this? Gambini harassed and made Nathan’s life a living HELL just because he wasn’t quite the type of wrestler that Gambini wanted him to be. He was different. And even though that had no bearing on his actual ability, Gambini was so desperate to get the belt off him that he actually gift-wrapped the belt to Johnny freaking Moxie of all people. Again, all because it didn’t fit Gambini’s vision of what he wanted SVW to be.
Wolf squints hard at Anders, letting the tension hand for a few moments.
Wolf: And what would that be?
Anders: A place full of boring, egomanaical assholes, who never shut up, always screw up wrestling matches, complain when they don’t get their way, screw over good honest people at every turn and kiss Gambini’s ridiculous ass. That’s what he wants. And now, you want us to cut some boring theme promo on a bunch of jerks who EVERYBODY ALREADY KNOWS we’re better than, even though it has no actual bearing on our in-ring ability.
Cara: ...YEAH! I mean, what difference does it make if we just say the same stuff about them people already know! It’s not going to change anything. We can still beat them.
Wolf turns to Stark and Stone’s partner for the PPV match.
Wolf: ...What do you think, Dan?
Pollaski shrugged.
Pollaski: I think you agreed to represent Stark & Stone as they are, not what you want them to be. And it’s not like I tell Wendy what to say and what to do. She’d probably lock me in the closet if I did...
Cara: YOU’RE IN THE CLOSET, DAN?
Anders: Wasn’t expecting that. Bold to come out like that on camera though.
Pollaski: Wait... what? NO! Jesus... I meant the actual goddamned physical closet used to hang coats in!
Cara: Oh...I thought that was gonna explain the Nikkii thing. Oh well.
Pollaski: THERE IS NO NIKKI THING!
Anders: Ok, you know what? FOCUS. Look, Wolf. Do you believe we can beat Team Aggression?
Wolf looks taken aback, even perhaps a little hurt.
Wolf: ...Of course, I believe you can.
Cara cuts in now, seeing where her best friend is going with this.
Cara: So, why does it matter if we go on camera one more time and bitch out the talentless hacks who have to get in bed with owners so they can win matches? We’re going to fight them. We’re going to beat them. And that’s all there is to it.
Pollaski nods.
Pollaski: Spence coulda picked anyone out there... he picked us. If our fuggin boss is gonna show that much faith in us, I think our friends and managers might be wise to do the same thing here. After all, Spencer Mackenzie’s not a dipshit. He knows who he picked, and he knows what we do.
Wolf looked around...and smiled.
Wolf: I...see. Apologies, all of you. Perhaps I was being a bit too controlling.
Cara: It’s okay, Wolfman, just be out there when we do our thing and end all this ridiculousness, and we promise to you, to all the SVW wrestlers...to all the fans...we’re going to make things right, damn it.
Anders: It’s going to be ass whoopin time on Sunday. Seriously.
Pollaski grins, and stretches, cricking his neck.
Pollaski: You damn right. The moment Gambini chose his team, he sealed his fate. Revolution X not only carries one of the most generic, overused names ever in wrestling, but they haven’t been able to win shit on their own. And considering the shit the Abusement Park pulled on Anders and especially Cara here.. you think that’s gonna stand? H-to-the-ell no!
Cara: Damn straight! Woo!
Wolf turns around, grinning at the camera.
Wolf: It seems that I have may some errors in judgment, but I think it’s clear now Team Uprising is more than ready for what they’re up against at the Pay-Per-View. The three wrestlers beside me, along with the talented Belle Wolf, will be more than happy to send Gambini packing at Criminal Intent. So say what you always say. Do what you always do. Lie. Make excuses and false accusations. That is what you are best at. But none of you are going to be able to claim victory once all of this is over. Know that and know it well.
We fade to black on the scene of Wolf, Stark and Stone and Pollaski all standing side by side, a unified force ready to go into battle.
Directly in front of us, we see Wolf Ramsey, dressed in a long trenchcoat and leather gloves, presumably hiding another expensive suit, beside him stands Daniel Pollaski, who is bundled up as well. Both men are staring directly at the camera as Wolf begins speaking.
Wolf: Hello, SVW Nation. Dan and I are here at the park today. Why? Because well, things in SVW have been sort of doom and gloom ever since one Anthony Gambini was sold his shares of the company, and we have come here to enjoy the day, since soon enough, Team Uprising is going to lead SVW back into the daylight at Criminal Intent. Now, perhaps it won’t be as nice as children playing on the playground with all laughter and smiles, but once Mr. Gambini is finally banished from our fine promotion, things will certainly be brighter. Wouldn’t you agree, Dan?
Wolf turns to his fellow manager, who picks up the threads.
Pollaski: Absolutely, dude. I mean, the day he took over SVW is the day SVW began a decline. An easily reversible decline, but a decline nonetheless. And when Me, Belle, Cara, and Anders...
Pollaski gestures behind him, only to stop, realizing he’s doing nothing but pointing at air. He blinks.
Pollaski: Uh... Wolf?
Wolf: Yes, Dan? You were talking about Gambini’s failures...
Pollaski: Yeah, but it seems we have a failure of our own on our hands. A failure to appear by a couple teammates...
Wolf turned around, shaking his head.
Wolf: What are you...Oh...Oh dear. That’s not good.
Wolf looks around, realizing that Anders and Cara are absent. He squints his eyes in suspicion and looks at Pollaski hard.
Wolf: ...What did you do with Cara and Anders? This has your shenanigans written all over it.
Pollaski gives the “Moi?!” pose, looking defensive.
Pollaski: Oh, cause Anders and Cara have never done ANYTHING completely out of line before! If I had anything to do with this, I’d be with THEM, and not here freeing my arse off with YOU.
Wolf: Cara and Anders have been much better recently. You must’ve been a bad influence. Actually, you know what? Nevermind. Forget it. Let’s just go find them.
Pollaski: Fine. But... where do we look? I mean... it’s not like the Twin Cities are BIG or anything...
Wolf: They were here five minutes ago. They could not possibly have gone that far. We’re not even near the street so they had to have walked somewhere nearby.
Wolf turned and pointed to the camera.
Wolf: You...come with us. We’ll get this sorted, and we’ll edit later if we have to.
Wolf turned around and started walking past the playground, the camera following behind him. Pollaski seemed to realize they were actually leaving a couple seconds late and had to hustle a bit to catch up, yelling at Wolf as he did so.
Pollaski: DUDE! Do the words “Let’s go” mean anything to you?
Wolf ignored Pollaski as they continued down the path. The managers both scouring the nearby areas for any sign of Anders and Cara, but we can see nothing except a few kids running around under their parents’ supervision. Wolf stops suddenly, looking somewhat frustrated and makes a sharp left turn. As he does so, the camera actually reveals a “bouncy” or “moonwalk” blow-up castle in the distance, apparently with a lot of activity going on inside it. Wolf keeps walking towards it and as we edge towards it..we hear a familiar voice in the distance.
Woman’s Voice: BIZZATCH, PLEASE! YOU CAN’T HANDLE THIS!
Man’s Voice: IT’S ON!
Wolf stops suddenly, right before he passes the castle. He seems to recognize the voices. He turns to Dan slowly.
Wolf: You don’t think...
Pollaski: I hope not. I kinda was hoping they’d gone into a restaurant or something.
Wolf: What restaurant? This is a park.
Pollaski: There’s a Sbarro across the street over there. Speaking of which, since my partners are busy...
Wolf grabs Pollaski by the shirt as the big man tries to walk away, surprisingly strong enough to actually halt the big man in his tracks.
Wolf: No. You will stay here until we finish this.
Suddenly, another shout rings out from the direction of the bouncy castle.
Woman: HEY CARE-BEARS! WASN”T THAT CLOTHESLINE AWESOMESAUCE?!
An eruption of cheers from high-pitched five to eight year old voices shouts up in response and Wolf looks over to realize a crowd of children has started to gather round the entrance of the castle and are cheering wildly as well.
Wolf: You have to be kidding me...
Pollaski: No kidding. Cara’s clothelines have like zero power in them. Her dropkicks though... yeech.
Wolf ignored Dan again and made a bee-line to the castle. As he makes it to the entrance, we can see inside and well... yeah. ANders has Cara in a headlock and the kids are all cheering like crazy at this point.
Kids: LET’S GO CARA!
Other Kids: LET’S GO ANDY!
Anders: Don’t call me Andy! God, what the hell Have you all talked to Rex or something!?
Anders keeps he headlock on his tag partner but then suddenly picks his right hand up and ...delivers a noogie to Cara?!
Cara: AHHHHH!!! IT HURTS!!! MAKE IT STOP!
Wolf opens his mouth to speak...but he has nothing to say...he simply facepalms.
Pollaski: One-side, Wolfman. If it’s a match they want, it’s a match they’ll get.
Pollaski slides into the castle, walking up to Cara, and dramatically screaming at her.
Pollaski: DO YOU GIVE UP, CARA? DO YOU GIVE UP? COME ON CARA? DO YOU SUBMIT?
Cara: NEVERR!!!!!!!
Cara suddenly elbows Anders in the gut and the hold gets released. Cara then grabs Anders by the head and delivers a stone cold stunner, but the elevation from the inflated arena has Anders boucne about five feet in the air before coming back down. Cara watches him carefully and just as he lands...she double bounces herself WAY in the air before landing on top of him in a splash!
Cara: HA! TAKE THAT, BIZZATCH!
Anders: Ow....
Pollaski dives down, and starts counting..
Pollaski: ONE! TWO! THR..
Anders kicks out with authority! and Cara flies back. Anders gets back to his feet bouncing slightly as he tries to circle around his tag team partner.
Anders: NOT YET!
Cara squints her eyes at her tag partner and charges at him, screaming so loud that Wolf, Dan, the kids, all people in a ten mile radius cover their ears.
Cara: AAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cara goes for a flying kick, and while Anders SHOULD be able to dodge it, he is unable, due the distraction by the deafening screech. And therefore Cara promptly kicks him in the chest, sending him flying back against the wall of the castle. Cara herself falls down on her back but bounces back up and manages to land on her feet, smiling wide.
Wolf finally gets fed up enough to yell.
Wolf: DAMN IT DAN! WE HAVE A PROMO TO SHOOT! Will you stop this?!
Pollaski glares at Wolf, then rolls his eyes.
Pollaski: Fine...
Pollaski shoves Cara from behind, and she goes staggering with a squawk into Anders, the two colliding, and tumbling over and over, before landing in the middle of the castle, Cara on top of Anders. Pollaski quickly, and deftly sits down on Cara’s back.
Pollaski: Onetwothreecarawins.
Pollaski slides off his partners, and gets to his feet, leaving Stark & Stone lying in the castle, as he slides back out.
Pollaski: Gambini said they were gonna face each other after Criminal Intent. After what I just saw... I’m not so sure...
Wolf: They’ll be fine.
Wolf suddenly began to take off his shoes and shockingly slid into the castle himself. He walked up, grabbed Cara and Anders each by the ear as they were getting back to their feet, and dragged them both out of the castle.
Cara/Anders: OW! AH! Ooo! AH! OOWWW! STOP THAT!
Wolf finally lets go of them once the tag team is finally back on solid ground.
Wolf: What were you thinking?
Cara: Wolf...it’s a bouncy castle. What did you expect? For us NOT to have an impromptu wrestling match inside it? Are you insane?
Anders: You have seriously unfair expectations man, and now my ear hurts too.
Pollaski: Shoulda gone to the Sbarro, dudes. He wouldn’t have dragged you out of there...
Wolf: Don’t make assumptions.
Wolf shakes his head and sighs ans Anders and Cara get their shoes back on nearby.
Wolf: I am disappointed in you two. The most important match in your careers. Hell, in the history of SVW happens, and when promo time comes not only to you wander off like a couple of pre-adolescent children, but you do so in order that you can play in a damn inflatable castle and make complete fools of yourselves.
Cara rolls her eyes.
Cara: We’re sorry, Wolf.
Anders cuts her off.
Anders: No we’re not.
Cara: We aren’t?
Anders: No, we aren’t.
Wolf: Oh, really? Would you care to explain, Mr. Stark? Because I would like to hear this. Wouldn’t you, Dan?
Pollaski: Well, I’d say that with all the tension riding on this match, staying loose is a very very important thing. Bouncy castle training sessions are a great way to not only prepare for the big match, but to have fun doing it!
Wolf:...Are you seriously defending them? Seriously? C’mon, Dan.
Pollaski’s eyes narrow, and he looks at Wolf.
Pollaski: ..I’m starting to see why Colleen clocked you...
Cara:...OOOhhhh... FIGHT!
Anders: What? No! No. Damn it, pay attention. Let me explain this. Don’t you realize how you’re acting right now, Wolf?
Wolf turns away from Dan, the scowl that had been forming disappearing suddenly.
Wolf: What do you mean?
Anders: You’re flipping out because Cara and I aren’t fitting what YOU expect us to do right now. You think because we’re having a little fun and don’t want to cut some boring promo saying things that everyone already knows about Douchebag, Angel, and Revolution X, that you need to yell at us, get us back in line, control us...and on a much smaller scale, that makes you EXACTLY like Gambini.
Wolf: What did you just say?
Cara: Oh. Shit. Son.
Cara and Pollaski exchange worried glances.
Pollaski: Dude...
Anders: What do you think started all this? Gambini harassed and made Nathan’s life a living HELL just because he wasn’t quite the type of wrestler that Gambini wanted him to be. He was different. And even though that had no bearing on his actual ability, Gambini was so desperate to get the belt off him that he actually gift-wrapped the belt to Johnny freaking Moxie of all people. Again, all because it didn’t fit Gambini’s vision of what he wanted SVW to be.
Wolf squints hard at Anders, letting the tension hand for a few moments.
Wolf: And what would that be?
Anders: A place full of boring, egomanaical assholes, who never shut up, always screw up wrestling matches, complain when they don’t get their way, screw over good honest people at every turn and kiss Gambini’s ridiculous ass. That’s what he wants. And now, you want us to cut some boring theme promo on a bunch of jerks who EVERYBODY ALREADY KNOWS we’re better than, even though it has no actual bearing on our in-ring ability.
Cara: ...YEAH! I mean, what difference does it make if we just say the same stuff about them people already know! It’s not going to change anything. We can still beat them.
Wolf turns to Stark and Stone’s partner for the PPV match.
Wolf: ...What do you think, Dan?
Pollaski shrugged.
Pollaski: I think you agreed to represent Stark & Stone as they are, not what you want them to be. And it’s not like I tell Wendy what to say and what to do. She’d probably lock me in the closet if I did...
Cara: YOU’RE IN THE CLOSET, DAN?
Anders: Wasn’t expecting that. Bold to come out like that on camera though.
Pollaski: Wait... what? NO! Jesus... I meant the actual goddamned physical closet used to hang coats in!
Cara: Oh...I thought that was gonna explain the Nikkii thing. Oh well.
Pollaski: THERE IS NO NIKKI THING!
Anders: Ok, you know what? FOCUS. Look, Wolf. Do you believe we can beat Team Aggression?
Wolf looks taken aback, even perhaps a little hurt.
Wolf: ...Of course, I believe you can.
Cara cuts in now, seeing where her best friend is going with this.
Cara: So, why does it matter if we go on camera one more time and bitch out the talentless hacks who have to get in bed with owners so they can win matches? We’re going to fight them. We’re going to beat them. And that’s all there is to it.
Pollaski nods.
Pollaski: Spence coulda picked anyone out there... he picked us. If our fuggin boss is gonna show that much faith in us, I think our friends and managers might be wise to do the same thing here. After all, Spencer Mackenzie’s not a dipshit. He knows who he picked, and he knows what we do.
Wolf looked around...and smiled.
Wolf: I...see. Apologies, all of you. Perhaps I was being a bit too controlling.
Cara: It’s okay, Wolfman, just be out there when we do our thing and end all this ridiculousness, and we promise to you, to all the SVW wrestlers...to all the fans...we’re going to make things right, damn it.
Anders: It’s going to be ass whoopin time on Sunday. Seriously.
Pollaski grins, and stretches, cricking his neck.
Pollaski: You damn right. The moment Gambini chose his team, he sealed his fate. Revolution X not only carries one of the most generic, overused names ever in wrestling, but they haven’t been able to win shit on their own. And considering the shit the Abusement Park pulled on Anders and especially Cara here.. you think that’s gonna stand? H-to-the-ell no!
Cara: Damn straight! Woo!
Wolf turns around, grinning at the camera.
Wolf: It seems that I have may some errors in judgment, but I think it’s clear now Team Uprising is more than ready for what they’re up against at the Pay-Per-View. The three wrestlers beside me, along with the talented Belle Wolf, will be more than happy to send Gambini packing at Criminal Intent. So say what you always say. Do what you always do. Lie. Make excuses and false accusations. That is what you are best at. But none of you are going to be able to claim victory once all of this is over. Know that and know it well.
We fade to black on the scene of Wolf, Stark and Stone and Pollaski all standing side by side, a unified force ready to go into battle.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
EPISODE 155: Eat Shit(ley) and Die
The following was posted on WhirlyBirdz.com on Friday January 27 2012. The contents are solely the opinon of the author, and do not reflect the opinions of Terrence Thompson or Wendy Briese.
Hey kids!
Goddamn, it’s been a while since I’ve written one of these. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve even had a match in SVW. Holy shit.
Anyways, the last you saw of me, I was pinning Nick Sanders in some triple threat match, and the next thing I know, I’m in some triple threat match AGAINST THE SAME DAMN PEOPLE at Criminal Intent, only this time, it actually was for a Defiance title shot. Long story short, something about that (and I can’t even remember what the fuck it was) rubbed me the wrong way, I made a couple of posts on Twitter that I probably shouldn’t have, Anthony Goomba got butthurt about it and removed me from the match.
And now I’m in the main event of the EXACT SAME PAY-PER-VIEW, representing a show that I’ve yet to compete on (well, until Sunday, anyways), with a chance to drive Gambini and his parade of cocksucking acolytes out of SVW once and for all.
Yeah, I’m not exactly sure how the fuck that all worked out either.
Not that I’m complaining of course. I mean, I’M GONNA TEAM WITH MOTHERFUCKING STARK AND STONE! Which, try as I might, I can’t bring myself to hate them, even if they did beat my Bro from another Mo Terrence and my Gravy Train Wendy (I’m not ashamed to say it. I make WAY more off her royalties than what the chaeapasses here in SVW are paying me.). I can’t even hate Cara for jumping me and beating me up at her bowling party. Considering what I’m about to do to someone else who jumped me recently, that should just say how awesome Cara is.
And of course, I get to be the good guy again. It’s one of those conundrum’s that I have. I love being a jackass and destroying people who annoy me. But I kinda also like being the hero and saving the day. If there was a universe where every supervillian hailed from Deadhorse, Alaska, I’d be the fucking KING of that place.
Luckily, instead of the evil Helmsley-Tron 3000, I get someone who’s just as idiotic, and not nearly as talented inside the ring. By that, I mean WHITLEY MERCER. Now, I’m sure most of you know what happened here, but for those of you that didn’t, at New Years Retribution, I faced Camilla Pazzini in a match. And I actually lasted longer than three minutes, which means a big payday for those of you who took the over in Vegas. But towards the end of the match, just as things were starting to turn in my favor, who but Little Miss Mercer comes jumping into the ring, planting me flat on my face, and celebrating while Chunks gets the win.
Now, being jumped from behind in the middle of a wrestling match is shitty enough, but come on. WHITLEY MERCER? The little dyejob from Pwn3d!? THe idiot whos highlight of her WHOLE FUCKING CAREER is that she stood underneath Jo McFarlane and watched her pull down the briefcase at Unstoppable 2? The genius who came out so flat against Wendy in her VERY OWN CARPE DIEM MATCH my client was practically pulling her hair out in frustration? The very same Whitley Mercer who disappeared from FFW for months, and NO ONE MISSED HER?
Would YOU want THAT screwing you over in a PPV match against one of the best wrestlers on the fucking planet?
Didn’t think so.
So yeah, Whitley already was on my bad side after that. So I demanded a match, and got it (thanks whichever Mackenzie is running the place! I get you all so goddamn confused). And Whitley’s coming over to SVW to face me. Whoo hoo! I’ll show her.
Then Whitley Mercer did the unthinkable. She attacked Dani Mason. Now I know that Dani and Whitley were friends, but if there’s ever anyone who both (1) didn’t deserve to be punched and (2) would probably be killed by a punch, its Dani. She’s one of the sweetest girls on the planet, and from all accounts, she’s damn good in her job as Cody Kincaid’s personal assistant. In short, beating her up is like 100x worse than jumping me in a match.
Which meant a simple asswhupping in the ring just wasn’t gonna cut it anymore.
You see, I’m like Eric Cartman from South Park. I’m fat. I’m funny. I’m easy to make fun of. And if you EVER try to screw me over I WILL KILL YOUR FUCKING PARENTS, GRIND THEM INTO CHILI MEAT, FEED THEM TO YOU, AND LICK THE FUCKING TEARS OFF YOUR FACE WHILE RADIOHEAD MOCKS YOU!
Or maybe I’ll just ruin your career. For Whitley, mission the fuck accomplished, not that she had much of a career to begin with. You think anyone’s going to take her seriously after that? You think there’s going to be a promo by any of her opponents in the next SIX MONTHS that doesn’t mention what I did to her, or call her Shitley? No, that’s who she’s going to be from now on. The girl who pissed off Daniel Pollaski and got shit dumped on her.
But it ain’t over. Oh no. She’s still got that match. And I hope she brings the idiot she calls a boyfriend out too. I mean seriously, it’s bad enough to talk like it, but the MAN TWEETS LIKE HE’S FUCKING BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD! And this is somehow an IMPROVEMENT?
I want the old Whitley back. The Whitley who just royally sucked, and wasn’t an annoying twat.
Well, she’s dead, apparently. And the new one is going to be too. Because remember how much Michelle Taylor annoyed me?
That. Times a bajillion.
Polla Out.
Bitch.
Hey kids!
Goddamn, it’s been a while since I’ve written one of these. Hell, it’s been a while since I’ve even had a match in SVW. Holy shit.
Anyways, the last you saw of me, I was pinning Nick Sanders in some triple threat match, and the next thing I know, I’m in some triple threat match AGAINST THE SAME DAMN PEOPLE at Criminal Intent, only this time, it actually was for a Defiance title shot. Long story short, something about that (and I can’t even remember what the fuck it was) rubbed me the wrong way, I made a couple of posts on Twitter that I probably shouldn’t have, Anthony Goomba got butthurt about it and removed me from the match.
And now I’m in the main event of the EXACT SAME PAY-PER-VIEW, representing a show that I’ve yet to compete on (well, until Sunday, anyways), with a chance to drive Gambini and his parade of cocksucking acolytes out of SVW once and for all.
Yeah, I’m not exactly sure how the fuck that all worked out either.
Not that I’m complaining of course. I mean, I’M GONNA TEAM WITH MOTHERFUCKING STARK AND STONE! Which, try as I might, I can’t bring myself to hate them, even if they did beat my Bro from another Mo Terrence and my Gravy Train Wendy (I’m not ashamed to say it. I make WAY more off her royalties than what the chaeapasses here in SVW are paying me.). I can’t even hate Cara for jumping me and beating me up at her bowling party. Considering what I’m about to do to someone else who jumped me recently, that should just say how awesome Cara is.
And of course, I get to be the good guy again. It’s one of those conundrum’s that I have. I love being a jackass and destroying people who annoy me. But I kinda also like being the hero and saving the day. If there was a universe where every supervillian hailed from Deadhorse, Alaska, I’d be the fucking KING of that place.
Luckily, instead of the evil Helmsley-Tron 3000, I get someone who’s just as idiotic, and not nearly as talented inside the ring. By that, I mean WHITLEY MERCER. Now, I’m sure most of you know what happened here, but for those of you that didn’t, at New Years Retribution, I faced Camilla Pazzini in a match. And I actually lasted longer than three minutes, which means a big payday for those of you who took the over in Vegas. But towards the end of the match, just as things were starting to turn in my favor, who but Little Miss Mercer comes jumping into the ring, planting me flat on my face, and celebrating while Chunks gets the win.
Now, being jumped from behind in the middle of a wrestling match is shitty enough, but come on. WHITLEY MERCER? The little dyejob from Pwn3d!? THe idiot whos highlight of her WHOLE FUCKING CAREER is that she stood underneath Jo McFarlane and watched her pull down the briefcase at Unstoppable 2? The genius who came out so flat against Wendy in her VERY OWN CARPE DIEM MATCH my client was practically pulling her hair out in frustration? The very same Whitley Mercer who disappeared from FFW for months, and NO ONE MISSED HER?
Would YOU want THAT screwing you over in a PPV match against one of the best wrestlers on the fucking planet?
Didn’t think so.
So yeah, Whitley already was on my bad side after that. So I demanded a match, and got it (thanks whichever Mackenzie is running the place! I get you all so goddamn confused). And Whitley’s coming over to SVW to face me. Whoo hoo! I’ll show her.
Then Whitley Mercer did the unthinkable. She attacked Dani Mason. Now I know that Dani and Whitley were friends, but if there’s ever anyone who both (1) didn’t deserve to be punched and (2) would probably be killed by a punch, its Dani. She’s one of the sweetest girls on the planet, and from all accounts, she’s damn good in her job as Cody Kincaid’s personal assistant. In short, beating her up is like 100x worse than jumping me in a match.
Which meant a simple asswhupping in the ring just wasn’t gonna cut it anymore.
You see, I’m like Eric Cartman from South Park. I’m fat. I’m funny. I’m easy to make fun of. And if you EVER try to screw me over I WILL KILL YOUR FUCKING PARENTS, GRIND THEM INTO CHILI MEAT, FEED THEM TO YOU, AND LICK THE FUCKING TEARS OFF YOUR FACE WHILE RADIOHEAD MOCKS YOU!
Or maybe I’ll just ruin your career. For Whitley, mission the fuck accomplished, not that she had much of a career to begin with. You think anyone’s going to take her seriously after that? You think there’s going to be a promo by any of her opponents in the next SIX MONTHS that doesn’t mention what I did to her, or call her Shitley? No, that’s who she’s going to be from now on. The girl who pissed off Daniel Pollaski and got shit dumped on her.
But it ain’t over. Oh no. She’s still got that match. And I hope she brings the idiot she calls a boyfriend out too. I mean seriously, it’s bad enough to talk like it, but the MAN TWEETS LIKE HE’S FUCKING BEAVIS AND BUTTHEAD! And this is somehow an IMPROVEMENT?
I want the old Whitley back. The Whitley who just royally sucked, and wasn’t an annoying twat.
Well, she’s dead, apparently. And the new one is going to be too. Because remember how much Michelle Taylor annoyed me?
That. Times a bajillion.
Polla Out.
Bitch.
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