Post by King Incredible on Feb 28, 2014 14:10:59 GMT -5
My head landed hard on the mat as the sweat flew from my soaked forehead onto the gymnasium wrestling ring that read Super Internet Wrestling 2007. I turned around onto my back kicked the “fat as a walrus” of a human being in front of me in the teeth as he stepped back holding his face. I rolled back onto my feet and bounced off the ropes and went for a spear but the big man caught me and delivered another DDT onto the mat as my head began to pound.
“Fuck off Knux!” I screamed.
Knux grinned as he stepped back and allowed me to get up. I used the ropes to leverage myself up as we had been training for nearly three hours now. I lunged towards him but he grabbed my whole body and catapulted me over his shoulders and landed me on my belly for a perfect belly-to-belly suplex. I cried out in frustration as I went from behind him and applied a sleeper hold but once again the large gorilla fucker grabbed my tights and flipped me onto my ass in front of him. He grabbed both my arms and drilled his knee into my back.
“Seriously,” I panted, “could you fuck off?”
“No!” Knux cried, “you got to smarten the fuck up!”
Knux released the hold and got back up. I go to him and kick him in the gut before trying to attempt a abdominal stretch but he again flips me over before I can apply pressure and hooks my neck.
“Every time your opponent reverses you,” he yells, “I’ll be in your fucking nightmares!”
I became increasingly angry as I elbowed him in the head and brought my foot up and kicked him in the forehead. While he staggers I climb one of the turnbuckles and go for a flying punch but Knux grabs me by the neck and choke slams me into the mat.
“Every time you botch a move,” he yells again getting right in my face, “I’ll be in your fucking nightmares!”
I spit in Knux’s face as he whips it away and I get up and cross slap his chest. He cringes in pain as I do it again over and over about ten times before hoisting him and doing a brain buster. I go for the pin… 1… he kicks out and puts me in another headlock.
“Every time your opponent kicks out of your pins,” he screams applying more pressure, “I’ll be in your fucking nightmares!”
I finally get fed up with Knux. I release the hold and hook his arm in my legs and take my knuckles and lock them around his face and start stretching his head back to an abnormal position with a crossface. Knux tries to break it but I take all the anger from him screaming and continue to apply and I grunt my frustration. He tries to take his legs and stand up but I take my body and adjust it over his and stretch his neck out even more. He cries out and taps out. I release the hold right away to which Knux grabs me by my hair and throws me into a turnbuckle. He comes by and grabs me by my throat.
“Every time you release a hold right away,” he began quietly, “if it’s because your opponent has reached the ropes or it’s because he taps out… I’ll be in your fucking nightmares.”
Knux lets go of me as I fall to my ass and breathe heavily. He goes to the opposite side and takes a swig of water before continuing his lecture.
“Bishop,” he said between sips, “I know you’re a young man in your early twenties and you’re doing a lot to improve, but quite honestly, I don’t see a whole lot more to improve. You’ve got great endurance… most men wouldn’t last even forty minutes with me. It’s been like two and half hours. That crossface too was brutal; my fucking nose hurts.”
“You think so?” I asked honestly, “ever since I got my ass handed to me a year ago and got my arm broken I haven’t had a whole lot of confidence.”
“That’s it then,” he said coming towards me and sitting next to me, “you need the confidence. You can have all the skill in the world and be a perfect wrestling prodigy but if you do not have confidence you’ll never succeed. Remember that.”
He passed me his water bottle as I nodded in thanks and squirted some water down my throat and took a big gulp.
“Thanks Knux,” I sincerely said, “you’ve been a big help.”
“No problem kid,” he laughed, “you’re pretty damn… what word can I use? Yes… you’ve been incredible… but stop being such a fucking pussy or I’ll be in your nightmares too!”
***
“Bishop, why the hell did you take me to the Lubbock Landfill?”
“Shut up Marauko, I’m looking for something! Fuck!”
It was a beautiful 75 degrees in Lubbock, Texas and the sun was shining through a small amount of clouds and it was making the awful stench of garbage from the landfill just that more intense. I had driven out here with Mario Marauko in search for something awful and disgusting. Mario was leaning up against his limo smoking a cigar as I wore rubber gloves and sifted through the disposal. His driver, Martie Nicotera, drove us here and was sitting in the front seat waving a pamphlet in front of his face trying not to die from the heat.
“With all due respect sir,” Martie shouted to me, “couldn’t we come back when it is not so hot out?”
“I’m with Martie on this one,” Mario agreed, “what the hell do you need like spare parts? I’ll just buy you brand new of whatever the hell you want man.”
“It’s not like that,” I yelled pulling dirty diapers and banana peels out of my way, “I am looking for something original, one of a kind, that I know is with all this crap.”
I moved on to another pile as Martie obviously frustrated kept wagging the pamphlet harder to create more air. Mario comes over confused.
“What are you doing?” Mario asked, “why don’t you turn the AC on?”
“Uh,” Martie said speechless, “I never thought of that for some reason, sir. Thank you.”
“No problem,” Mario smirked, “I’m coming in and joining you, it’s fucking hot as hell outside.”
Mario and Martie wait in the car and are listening to some classical music on the radio as I continue to look through pile after pile of garbage. An hour passes as I finally find what I’m looking for in an old desk as I return to the limo to find Martie and Mario have passed out in the car while “Flight of the Bumblebee” plays through the speakers. I banged on the windows, which startled them.
“Wake up Rimsky and Beethoven!” I laughed, “I finally found what I was looking for!”
Mario presses the button to roll down the window and throw in a wrestling doll full of dust and dirt onto his lap. Mario reacts in the way I knew he would act.
“This is a new suit!” Mario exclaimed, throwing the doll out and brushing the dust off, “what gives man?”
“Don’t you know who that is?” I laughed.
“No?”
“It’s Damian Payne!” I laughed harder.
“How the hell does Damian have an action figure before me?” Mario barked looking at Martie and smacking him in the back of the head, “get on the phone and figure it out! Why did we come all out this way Ian for a Damian doll? If you wanted to see the man we could’ve gone to his hotel.”
“That must be an imposter, Mario,” I explained, “the reason I came out here was to see him in his true element where he belongs.”
“It don't understand,” Mario shook his head, “have you been snorting too much coke man? You need to ease off that shit there Charlie Sheen.”
“Sheen… good one,” I smirked, “no, Damian is nothing more than white-trailer trash and I wanted to see him among the garbage that he should be. The one in the hotel must be his imposter during the week because all I see in him is nothing more a man who lit a match in his bathroom of his home and it exploded right off its wheels!”
Mario couldn’t do anything but chuckle as you could hear Martie getting mad at someone over the phone about the non-Mario action figure world we live in.
“He’s pathetic!” I yelled, throwing the doll back into the trash, “he has done nothing to prove he is a great wrestler. Sure, he can throws things around in the ring, that takes no skill I can do that. You can do it. Hell, I bet Martie could do it too. When I was at the airport and saw the big guy and heard him arguing with his wife.”
“The guy actually has a wife?” Mario laughed, “how did he do that… hold on Bishop… Martie! Bishop’s done, take us back to my place.”
“Sir,” Martie began, “I am still on the phone figuring out your si—“
“Martie,” Mario sighed, “you can make it hands free can’t you? Why do you think I pay you big bucks? To multitask! C’mon now!”
Mario gets out of the front and brushes some more dirt as he glares and gives me a nasty look and I can’t help but snicker. We get into the back and mix ourselves some drinks and light ourselves a cigar as the limo starts and the conversation between Martie and Jakks Pacific Company brewing.
“Sorry Ian,” Mario apologized, taking a sip of whiskey on the rocks, “you were saying?”
“Yes,” I said, sipping on my Appleton’s rum and coke, “I don’t know how he got a wife. I wonder what his wife is like… I can picture it now Mario, she’s probably one of the girls that asks about layaway at flea markets… her favorite wedding present was probably a pair of goggles… hah, I bet she poses in the BEFORE pictures in weight loss miracle ads.”
“Ok,” Mario sighed, “we get it, she’s trailer trash too.”
“But, oh no!” I said startled, “we can’t forget about his children! That’s right Mario, I know your face is shocked, but he did father some children from that piece of trash pussy! They probably use cheese whiz as tooth paste, the poor kids. Before you know it, with him not being home in a month and his wife will probably go off the deep end and his kids will be on the side of a milk carton or something. I bet you there uneducated too… like they think hamburger helper is one of the major four food groups.”
“The poor things,” Mario says sarcastically.
“I know right?” I chuckle, “I bet you they reach their mother from work the same way I do… calling one of those 1-900 sex numbers!”
“Fuck you’re just drilling into them,” Mario laughed, wiping tears from his right eye, “let’s skip the trailer trash for a second before I can’t breathe anymore. Did you see Smith interviewed loony bin?”
“Yeah I did,” I said, taking a few puffs from my cigar, “what about the weirdo?”
“Well,” Mario started, “I don’t think she’s done with you… more stupid experiments or some shit. Don’t worry man, you alone have never had a problem with dealing with her and with me involved… well, look at what happened Sunday? We made a plan and it worked!”
“I’ll take a drink to that!” I beam as we both down the rest of our drinks, “but I don’t care about her anymore. We both got we wanted right? She got the match of a lifetime, even though she got her ass kicked for most of it, and I got my title, which I can’t wait to make love to when we get back to your place. I am ready to move onto opponents that can actually pack a punch and give me a challenge because let’s face it; she didn’t meet that for me. I am moving on and she better too.”
“Great to hear,” Mario winked, “I think we’re finally back... I need a dip in the pool!”
The limo stops as you could hear Martie stops the engine and gets out. He came by and opened the door as Mario exited first and then I followed. Outside the mansion is a taxi driver with its car running and a small man in a business suit and a brown envelope. He was looking impatient but was relieved to see us walking up.
“Excuse me,” the man said, shaking a bit, “are you Ian Bishop?”
“You mean do I look like a piece of crap…” Mario laughed, looking back to me, “no offense.”
“Fuck off,” I laughed, smacking Mario on the back but turning my attention, “that would be me… what the hell do you want?”
The man then throws the envelope to the ground and darts for the taxi.
“You’ve been served, bitch!”
Mario and I cock our eyebrows and stare at the idiot run for the taxi as the taxi speeds off. Mario throws his glass at the taxi which hits it back bumper and shatters everywhere. He orders one of the yard workers to clean it up as I bend down and open the envelope.
“What the fuck could this be?” I said, taking the paper out and reading its contents out loud to Mario, “Dear Ian Bishop, this letter of intent shall serve as your formal notice of the writer’s intent to commence legal proceedings against you in respect to the matter of not paying for your double meat burger meal at Whataburger #294 – WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“Seriously?” Mario said, “dude... it’s like ten bucks... are you that broke?”
“I didn’t pay for it because their employees were mouthing off to me!” I screamed, ripping up the paper, “is the company that bad that they have to sue me over ten fucking bucks? I’ll be calling them in the fucking morning… I need some fucking coke.”
I go inside Mario’s and head upstairs immediately as Mario turns towards to the living area and sits down still puffing his cigar. I fly back down the stairs with a bag of coke and dump the contents on the glass table between two arm chairs.
“OK, seriously?” Mario asked, “don’t do that on this nice table, Jordan Belfort!”
Without listening to Mario I take my straw and sniff the white powder into my nostrils. My head shakes a bit as I sniff for as long as I can before whooping and smacking my hand onto my knee. I take another hit that was better than the first.
“Now that’s fucking good!” I yelled, sniffing some more at rapid speed, “yeah! Fuck Whataburger. Fuck Brianna… and fuck Damian Payne! That’s what I’ll do… everyone thinks I’m some fucking paper champion well it ain’t FUCKING TRUE! I’ll prove them all that I am the true fucking champion I know I am!”
I take my fourth hit of coke as Mario looks on at the horror that is happening with me.
“Whataburger thinks they can just sue me over a meal because I bitched about their employees talking to me while under the influence? FUCK WHATABURGER! Brianna thinks she can continue to do experiments with me and the roster? FUCK THAT BRITISH CUNT! Damian Payne thinks he can just go around and saying ‘I’ll ChokeBomb Ian… in his nightmares’? WELL FUCK DAMIAN PAYNE AND HIS TRAILER TRASH ASS! HE PROBABLY THINKS FAST FOOD IS WHEN YOU HIT A DEER DOING 65! HIS LIFELONG GOAL AFTER WRESTLING WILL PROBABLY BE TO OWN A FIREWORKS STAND! THIS WIFE OF HIS IS PROBABLY HIS THIRD WIFE… BUT HE STILL HAS THE SAME FUCKING IN-LAWS!”
“I get it Ian,” Mario cuts him off as he watches me do another sniff, “lay off the coke man.”
“PAYNE’S GOING TO WISH HE DIDN’T START MOUTHING ME OFF! HE’S FUCKING HILARIOUS WHEN HE TALKS ABOUT HIS NIGHTMARES! …Did you know I used to weigh like 270 pounds all the time? Yeah, I did. I was much bigger, and I had a trainer, manager… a friend. His name was Bryan Knux but I just called him Knux… that man was an icon. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be in his business. When he died two years ago I went off the deep end and couldn’t wrestle and I lost weight cause I stopped working out and eating high calorie meals. He always trained me to that if I fuck up… he would be in my nightmares and that man is one scary individual. Not this… Sadistic Insanity… no, more like Sadistic Irrelevance… or Gentle Irrelevance… that guy has a family, he has kids. How can he go marching around saying he’s going to beat the crap out of me and try to go home and be a father? I made my decision to focus on my career alone and look at me. I AM ONLINE CHAMPIONSHIP WRESTLING’S CENTRAL FUCKING CHAMPION MOTHERFUCKER! Where is Damian? Yeah… he may be undefeated, but that doesn’t mean SHIT when your opponents are a couple of nobodies and needed me to win the other match. The point I am getting at is Knux… at seven feet four inches and 340 pounds… that fucker scared the shit out of me… Damian? He’s a domestic cat compared to him. I’ll have no problem disposing of the man in an instant-”
Suddenly, and because I’m high as a fucking kite, “Oh Love” by Green Day plays on a radio somewhere in the distant and gets me all excited. I jump on the chesterfield standing on top of it and begin singing my head off making the coke straw into a makeshift mircophone.
“OH LOVE… OH LOVE… WON’T YOU RAIN ON ME TONIGHT… OH LIFE… OH LIFE… PLEASE DON’T PASS ME BY… DON’T STOP… DON’T STOP… DON’T STOP WHEN THE RED LIGHTS FLASH… OH RIDE… FREE RIDE… WON’T YOU—“
I suddenly hold my chest as I fall down onto the floor and blackout. Mario gets up from his seat a tad startled as one of his butlers comes rushing in.
“Sir,” the butler started shocked, “is Mr. Bishop ok?”
“Probably not,” Mario sighed, “he probably just snorted a cups worth of coke. Fuck… did you ever watch Pulp Fiction?”
“Yes,” the butler said puzzled, “why is that relevant?”
“I need you to find the kit they used in it,” Mario explained, “where John Travolta brings Uma Thurman back to life… NOW!”
The butler scurries off to find something similar to that as Mario sighs and tries to slap me back to life.
***
Paramedics began strapping me in place inside the ambulance as throwing a blanket over me as the cold night of Kansas began to make me shiver. Mario Maurako looks on still in his wrestling attire from earlier in the show where he beat Bobbinette Carey. Behind him President Dean approaches with two white envelopes which he hands to Mario, who looks unimpressed.
“Here’s yours and Ian’s pay,” Dean said, hesitating for a second but Mario rips them out of his hands, “you going to tell him what happened?”
Mario turns his head over his shoulder and gives Dean a disgusting look but turns back to watch the ambulance take me to a local hospital to check on my injuries from the House of Mirrors.
“No,” Mario started, “that doesn’t matter though. What matters is that we started something tonight Dean that won’t be stopped. By name, you may be the, ‘president’, but you don’t have the money to back this place up and soon, the Family will be calling the shots… not you.”
“Is that a threat, sucka?” Dean barked calmly as he comes in closer to Mario.
“Take it as you will,” Mario smirks as his limo pulls up and he gets inside but rolls the window down, “I would look at it as… you may be out of a job soon.”
Mario rolls the window up as the limo speeds in the darkness of the night and Dean stands there pissed as he curses and heads back into the school.
