Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2013 11:15:36 GMT -6
Hello again my name is The Virus and these are my stories, sometimes I am known as Joshua Slathe, we are the same person but very different as well. I hope you enjoy some of the shit that is ricocheting around in my head before I actually continue the legend of myself…
We as humans have come a long way from the beginning, once we use to burrow in caves, then stick huts where built, followed by a more sturdy structure mud walls, and so on. Until now we have iron, steel, and glass towers, the same towers that can come crashing down in flaming steel bombs of death. Much faster and easier than they were built, a little saddening to the normal human. A lot like almost everything in life, you put in all the work to have something swift and unpredictable swoop in and destroy every little hardship, blood, sweat, and tears you poured in to the very thing you spent what seemed forever to create. Most fall and drift away into darkness and try to forget that they ever had dreams of such magnitude.
Those men and women are what I consider weak and I am sure most of you would agree. There is the low percentage of people who would rise from the ruble and carry on, waiting to regain strength and strike back, those who are strong and don’t fear failure. Being in NEW for about a month I have witnessed both types and I can’t really say I am impressed. Last ignite I had a few choice words for those that have shown some of the traits that could make a worthy opponent. Kind of ironic how I am talking about building and falling of greatness, yeah I lost my match against Cera. Good thing I am neither of those types of people I mentioned…
Why build when you can just take, just like I had taken my shot at the world title at World War X, just like I will take the NEW World title from the lifeless hands of whomever the champ maybe , when I feel it ideal to strike. Weather it remain Colt or exchanges hands to the likes of Inkt, Valora Salinas, Noct… Well no, not Nocturnal because he has shown he is not the kind of man I thought he was, he lost his title, and now wants to retire, lost all drive, worked so hard for fifteen years, probably built an amazing tower. One that awed people with how invincible it seemed from the outside, but once you got in, nothing a little dynamite and fuses couldn’t demolish in minutes.
Why such a personal interest in the retirement of Nocturnal, you are wondering, well because he was a great and I don’t like to think the likes of a boy named Colt ending the career of a great. His legacy should have shattered under my fists or my good friend “Nomed” one of my oldest and closest friends (The Virus’s black wooden bat with an unsymmetrical chunk of cement on the end that he sometimes talks to and hasn’t been mentioned yet). No it had to be erased by some peon, not even worthy of washing the boots of a champion, how pathetic? Soon there will be a NEW era and it won’t be ran by pussy farts and frat boys, but true champions, real gladiators and I will be the tip of that spear!
Well enough of this talk, I like to be more a man of action than words, well for the most part. So now on to something that has been on my mind as well, my opponent for Ignite 148, Inkt, who the hell is this guy? I don’t know and I don’t really care, fuck it just another member to dismantle before I take the World Championship belt and show everyone the real meaning of a Champion. Hell Inkt wasn’t booked since World War X he must not be that amazing or else the money hungry chump ass of a boss we have would want him for ratings. Why the hell would I get placed in a match with a talentless jerk off is the big fucking question! I swear every week it seems Jesse Style is causing my anger to increase and that is good for no one! Well I guess it is time for the tales of the depraved…
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Joshua Slathe
3/11/2013
It is the afternoon after Cera gave me a beating, with anger filled eyes and a duffel bag slung over my shoulder; I stare up my gravel drive way to a rundown double wide trailer as the taxi speeds off down the road. Slowly my blank facial expression begins to arch upside down into a smile, most would still be mad, but I loved my beach home, even if it was a rundown piece of shit trailer, it was my piece of shit.
Slowly my legs begin to move, step after step leaving an imprint in the gravel, I make my way up to the end where a car would be sitting if I owned one, instead, just some junk and useless crap. My smile continues to grow as I stop and stare at my junk for a while; it had been years since anything really belonged to me. This was a good feeling; I could sense it and I haven’t really had the time to let my freedom sink in, with NEW and all the traveling I had been doing. It was about time I got back to the roots of my evil and have a good relaxation period.
As I walk from the end of the drive way to my porch, I drop my bag at the top of the small staircase and walk over to a very comfortable outdoor bean bag chair. Plopping down on the bag I sprawl completely out as my body begins to sink within the soft quicksand of comfort. Slowly my eyelids begin to fall to rest as my breathing slows and my mind erases everything.
True Tranquility has been reached as I slowly inhale a deep and controlled breath, holding it as long as possible before I slowly exhale in complete control. The true blanket of peace and happiness wears off slowly as an irritating noise begins to beep through my head; it grows louder, faster, and more destructive as time passes. My world is opened back up and reality sinks back in, I was sore, bruised and a loss of morale from my match last night, the noise that ruined my euphoria, is my cell phone. It continues to ring as I angrily reach in to my pocket and remove an older flip phone, reading the display screen, my head begins to shake and the smile fades.
I flip the phone open and answer with irritation flooding from my suck hole, “Hey Khanrad this better be fucking good, I just got in and was almost in a whole new world!” Balling my fist at the smallest thought of where I could have been if my longtime friend wasn’t calling at one of the worst possible moments in history.
“Oh good you answered, I figured you’d still be on the plane or in the taxi, it must be great to be back home, I know you’ve been traveling a lot with Germany and then Chicago and where ever else you’ve been going. Exciting eh? You can thank me later.” By the tone of Khanrad’s voice he was very serious and very unaware of how I could take his head and slam it in the door of the car I don’t own, repeatedly.
“I wouldn’t know how it feels yet because like I said I just got in and you quickly ruined any kind of remotely positive that could be going on right now, tranquilizing sleep!” The tone of my voice would calm and keep the attention of a male lion.
“Oh sorry about that bro, but I have some good and some bad news, tomorrow, I need you to schedule a flight out here to Los Angeles. You have to be seen by the doctor, and then basically the day after you need to be at a press conference in Cincinnati, it will be publicity for your next match against Inkt! Hope you didn’t schedule any spa or massage dates…” Khanrad was always a sarcastic and smart-alecky type, which isn’t what I need right now…
“Are you fucking kidding me? I really need to still see the doctors, I thought that was handled when you got me out?” This couldn’t be true, needing to be told a second time I wait for him to answer with I was just fucking with you Josh.
“Yeah Josh about that, judge says if I don’t get an initial follow up since your release over two months ago, I am going to lose my license to law and you will be locked up right away. I am working on getting the judge to sign off on you being able to see a doctor of your choice but for now you have to come out here for the monthly sessions.” Wow, he was dead serious, this couldn’t be happening, feeling like I have a belly full of candy canes and gum drops, I fucking hate candy canes and gum drops!
“You have to be shitting me man? I thought you were the best lawyer on the west coast? Oh and why the fuck is NEW contacting you about my work?” So many questions need to be answered and I could barely walk straight. Waiting for answers I make my way toward my front door.
“Damn straight I am, hell he wanted weekly, but I brought up your job or should I say career, eh? Plus you will love it out here; we have a celebration for your Golden Contract victory. NEW is contacting me because legally I am your guardian and am in charge of your financials if you remember right!” Khanrad sure could get me riled up.
Inside my trailer I walk over to the fridge opening it up, to see nothing but condiments and a half gallon of spoiled milk. “Fuck! Speaking of financials, I need some cash wired to my account, I have an empty fridge and I will be all over everything you need me to do tomorrow, tonight, I rest and recuperate.” Raising the spoiled milk to eye level, shrugging, I begin to shake the carton, so the curdle mixes with the liquid.
“Okay sounds good, I will transfer five hundred to your account it is plenty until you make it out here, I will call you in the morning! Bye.” Khanrad had to obviously make it sound as if it wasn’t my money in the first place, he loved tormenting me, especially when he was in complete control, and he loved having that kind of power over anyone in his life.
Closing my phone I toss it on the bar counter and twist the milk carton cap off and take a chug, wiping some of the chunks from my medium length beard, I set the open carton on the counter as well. Making it over to the couch, I smile as I begin unbuttoning my pants, down goes the zipper, bam, in a matter of seconds I am standing in my boxer briefs. I stretch my arms and let out an exhausting yawn as I drop crashing in to the cigarette burnt, spaghetti stained, and bacteria covered couch. In a minute or so my eyes roll in to the back of my head and I am lost in complete and euphoric darkness…
Joshua Slathe
3/13/2013
The warm bright California sun shines down on the Venice Beach strip, my stride is small and pace slow, passing up shop after shop. Beach bum after beach bum, my Ray Ban sunglasses blocking the UV rays from my eyes. The sand and salt build up on the inside of my custom screaming skull Death is Spreading… board shorts is starting to irritate my cock from rubbing which is causing chaffing of my scrotum and pole. As well my, ”Pug Life” Riot Society bro tank is chaffing my nipples causing a burning sensation and of course there is an appointment I need to be at with in ten minutes.
The doctor’s office about a two minute walk, looking over to the left side I notice a group of very sexy and young females, who would very easily be manipulated in to pleasing myself with their mouths. Two minute walk to frustration or thirty second walk to paradise with an enormous chance of ejaculation? Obviously if that was just the question I would have chosen option two, but every action does have a reaction and if I would have chosen option two, I would be hauled back to the loony bin.
As I am opening the door to the doctor’s office, noticing an elderly couple waiting in the lobby. Making my way to the receptionist I notice the office is set up like a California office, beach pictures, seashells, and all the other typical beach goer décor. Why? They literally have the beach right out front of their office; why not decorate with something more forestry or hell even unicorns and rainbows, anything but beach… Maybe not unicorns and rainbows, if that was the case, I would have chosen the loony bin!
“Hello Ms. I am here for an initial appointment, name is Joshua Slathe.” My fingers begin tapping on the counter as the receptionists begin typing away in to her computer. She has a huge southern like smile and probably has a Texas size accent as well.
“Okay Mr. Slathe it says here your appointment is for eleven thirty, good you are about eight minutes early, have a seat and Dr. Shebelle will be right out in a minute.” She hands me a clipboard with some paper work, I smile, and she does have a Texas sixe accent just as I had predicted. “Oh yes and while you’re waiting please fill these forms out.” Her chubby cheeks stretch with a big fake southern smile.
“Actually I technically am not in charge of myself, so I will have to take these with me and have my guardian fill them all out and he or his people will return them to you, is that alright?” Smiling since I had been given something to get Khanrad back with rubbing in that I was found unfit to take care of myself.
“Oh of course that would just be splendid!” She takes the clipboard back from my hand. “Just grab them on your way out, thank you.” My head nods in agreement even though I wanted to reach through the sliding window and choke the Southern sow out with my bare hands. Female receptionists always have a way of finding my aggression, not my fault you couldn’t handle college and had to settle for a decent paying but highly stressful career.
About four minutes pass while my fingers and left foot have almost tapped myself to sleep, the doctor enters from a door that leads back to all the private offices and examination rooms. The doctor stops about two feet in front of the door and calls out, “Mr. Slathe, Joshua Slathe.” Typical looking shrink the doctor is older with thinning white hair and thick spectacles.
“Right here Dr. Shebelle.” I call out and rise up from my seat and slowly start to move toward him and the door, he opens the door and allows me to enter before swiftly passing me up.
“Right this way sir.” He escorts me in to a comfortable looking examination room and hand gestures for me to take a seat like a respectable man. Doctor Shebelle takes a seat in his leather high back swivel chair and smiles as he crosses his legs and ejects the point of his pen from the ink casing. “Okay so I assume you know why you are here?” Great he is going to want to make small talk and introductions, why couldn’t I have got a busy doc, who just rushes through, to get to the next patient.
“Yes I know why I am here, your fellow colleagues from Michigan believe that I am unsuitable to handle my mind and believe I have the mentality of a rabid wolverine at times.” Oh how today is going to be filled with quick and witty comebacks.
“Not exactly I have not read anything on your prior diagnosis besides the conditions you were placed under. It says slight schizophrenia and a severe bipolar disorder, sounds interesting, and slightly false.” Damn was this guy way off, I just did a little too many drugs one night.
“Yeah that is what the experts say. I just want to throw out there for the records; I believe I just had some bad luck with some really potent cocaine and acid.” Lowering my head slightly I crack a small smile.
“Ah I see so that would be a part of the incident that had you committed in the first place?” Holy shit this man really didn’t read every inch of my portfolio.
“Yes I used to have somewhat of a rock star lifestyle, loads of dirty broads, drugs, money, and all the filthy sex a man could handle, no matter his breed. Some bad acid, too much nose candy and a thieving hooker, equal loony bin for two years and unfit to handle his financial and wellbeing situations.” Feeling my fists quench at the thought of it and Virus trying to force his voice out our mouth, I quickly retake control. I notice doc jot something down on his paper, probably had noticed my almost rage fit.
“Hmm intriguing, so that makes you angry and frustrated that those responsibilities have been delegated to someone else? Does it make you want to commit any acts of violence?” Almost instantly I could tell this guy is good and would require superb acting and lying techniques.
“Irritated? Yes, I am a war veteran and now I am told I can’t have control of my life even though I came close to death and lost brothers for those freedoms. I am down right distraught and yes I want to commit violent acts on those who placed me in this predicament! I want to make them pay and suffer, but I am a man of self-control and know that it would be wrong of me. I think about it, but what kind of honest man who had seen war, death, destruction, and pure chaos wouldn’t? Like in combat though, I understood and knew going rogue, cowboy, or whatever you would like to call it wasn’t the best strategy, keep your cool, stay calm and collect all resources, evidence, and strike with precision.” Yeah that would totally give this man the feeling like I am just another average man who had a slight case of bad luck.
“Those seem understandable and thank you for your service; I served in Vietnam, Army Ranger. I understand how you feel about being told what is good for you in life and I can’t change that but I am here to help. So if you make your appointments a few more times with this attitude and actually give me a chance to do my job, then we can discuss getting a valuation for you to have mental stability and control of your life. How’s that sound?” Good thing this man is a vet as well, kind of gave me the edge.
“Sounds good to me, I mean I know I am not one hundred percent alright in the head, but who is? I have issues to work out, but I don’t believe I am a schizophrenic or bipolar…” I say sitting upright trying to keep my posture stern, as well as my tone as persuasive and convincing as possible.
“Okay, well I can’t really give you any details on where my mind is at right now with your case this being our first meet, as well as court orders it confidential, only to the judge. I guess I we will continue next month, just keep in mind what I said about the attitude and everything else.” Doctor Shebelle hands me his card with a smile as he opens the door for me. “Here is my card and you know your way out I assume, you seem to be bright and young, yes?” Very polite and proper the old doc was, probably a complete bad ass as well.
“Yes sir, thank you.” Keeping a respectable military manner, I exit the examination room and head for the lobby to retrieve the paper work Khanrad will have a fit about having to fill out…
The Virus
3/15/2013
The brisk cold Cincinnati wind is blowing the bottom of my gray trench coat, creating a flapping sound as my right hand holds a matching colored fedora upon my masked head. Many people stare at me as if I am some kind of freak show who is a little early on Halloween, as my black combat boots stomp right through the slushy sidewalks. I continue trudging through the slush on the downtown streets, looking for a convention center that should be located on the very street that I stand.
Looking around like a child that was just lost on the family vacation I am suddenly drawn down to the voice of a mouse. “Excuse me mister, aren’t you The Virus from New Edge wrestling?” A small boy in rags and a dirt smudged face is looking up at me with a smile bigger than the sun.
Fulfilling my character as a complete maniacal, psychotic side show, I kneel down and grab the kid by his dirty and worn jacket that is four sizes too big for the pip squeak. “Sorry to shit on your luck bub, but I am not. If I was though, I’d probably cut your face off with a rusty jagged spoon and make a new mask out of it…” Hissing in the kids ear like an evil cobra.
The kid attempts to jerk away, but I keep a tight grasp on the shoulder of his jacket. “Please mister I am sorry, I just don’t really have amazing opportunities like this, and I thought you were my hero!” Just as the boy finishes his sentence my hand releases its grip as if some kind of sick love magic took control of my body.
The kid turns to run and before I can even get a proper sentenced formed in my head he had gained a ten feet between us. “Hey kid wait, I am The Virus, come back here. I want to talk to you.” My voice echoes through the crowded street.
The boy stops in his tracks and turns around with a grin like a twelve year old boy in mischief would have right before pulling the grandest of pranks. Almost makes me smile under my mask. “I knew it was you, oh my god, this is so cool, and none of the other homeless kids are going to believe this!” The kid begins walking back toward me and stops just out of arms reach, intelligent little fucker.
“Okay so I need to be at this press conference and I am not familiar with Cincinnati very well, can you get me to the convention center? I will get you backstage of Ignite 148 so you can watch me dismantle Inkt and all those other garbage matches that will be taking place.” I kneel down on one knee to give the kid some comfort and eye to eye respect.
“Holy shit really, you will get me back stage, I could meet other NEW superstars like you? Damn I want to meet Cera; she has the nicest tits in the world.” Just as I feel a rage fit coming over my mind, the kid strikes back and calms me down. “That is probably why she beat you, you just had her tits on your mind the whole time, would have happened to the best wrestler in the world, she is fine as hell!” The kid was fucking damn right and funny.
Holding back my laughter I shake my head. “You always use foul language like that or are you just trying to be cool because I am around?” I stand up and look down at the kid who is filthy, lives in an alley, and smells worse than the dumpsters behind any Chinese restaurant.
“Yeah my dad before he died after killing my mother told me not to pretend to be someone I am not, I am a homeless, delinquent, and trashy vindictive son of a bitch! So I might as well use profanity like one.” The kid says as he begins walking me towards the convention center.
“What is your name anyways kid?” We continue walking through alley ways and holes in fences, this kid sure did know the darker parts of town.
“Name is Trashcan Tim; you Mr. Virus can call me Trashcan!” We come out of an alley way that smelt like urine, strippers, and dead rodents; Trashcan takes a couple steps on the sidewalk and then points at a large building, the convention center.
Not knowing what to say to the fact the kid just told me I could call him Trashcan, “Thanks for the help little buddy, I don’t think it would be that great of an idea if I brought you inside, you hang out around here, I shouldn’t be long, I would like to slowly cut every ligament off of everyone who works in media…”
“Yeah me too, those fuckers don’t even cover any of the hardcore truth out there, they just like to get what can make them money, which is pointless shit you don’t have to use your mind to watch…” Damn did I have a son I didn’t know about, whom I left in dumpster somewhere and somehow his DNA grew him into a young me..?
The Virus
3/15/2013
Blinding lights keep flashing in my face from all the media scum sitting around my five by two wooden table, picture snapped after picture, lucky for me I am wearing a mask which blocks out some of the light. The first prick fires a daring question. “So how are you feeling after that loss to Cera?” The audacity of that little twat, guy would sound butter with a railroad spike through his skull.
My feet prop up on the table, I interlace my fingers on my lap and lean back in my chair as if nothing is bothering me, but on the inside I felt like cutting the man’s balls off and playing catch with a Rottweiler. “That is very interesting that you would ask that question, you know I was talking to a new friend of mine and he had me thinking. See I have already beat her when it mattered, for a shot at the world title on my terms. That isn’t what my friend had me thinking about though, he made me realize I just had her naked body on my mind, her soft tight skin pressed against mine and then when we would be done making love, and I would take a scythe and cut her from her womb to her chin!”
Suddenly some of the media members begin to choke on cringe in disgust as I chuckle out loud; the next vermin asks the next question. “Okay so you believe you were just distracted by her good looks, what will your excuse be this week when you lose to Inkt?”
I slowly lower my feet and stand up from my chair as pressing my palms flat on the table; I stare at the man, short blonde hair fluffed at the bangs, long sleeve dress shirt, fancier leather jacket, and a pair of slacks. “When I lose huh?”
“Yes when you lose, you are a no body and the world realized that after your match with Cera, we all know you’re a fake, you got lucky your first two matches. You may scare little children and morons with that mask and your eerie tone, but underneath all that, you’re just a talentless man, who will soon be terminated from a great wrestling promotion.” Oh you poor soul, you don’t even know the beginning of the fear I am going to instill in your body and mind, death will be spreading…
“You really want to make those bold statements, after one loss of mine, did you even watch the double ring ladder match, where I poured sweat and blood in to the match. I did the same against Cera as well, it was close, and she beat me, which I am okay. I am not dying here, I am here and ready for Inkt. I am going to dedicate the destruction of him to you my friend, what is your name?” Slowly I sit back down and crack my neck.
“The name is John, John Haney.” He exclaims before taking a seat in his chair, ever so calmly, but if he knew what was going to come for him in the near future he wouldn’t.
“So do you have any worries about the Kliq getting involved in the match at all?”
Smiling under my mask, almost completely engulfed in planning the kidnapping of John Haney, I almost forget the question I was just asked. “What was the question aga… Oh yes the Kliq, let them try to stick their nose in my affairs with Inkt, it will just be more bloodshed!”
The next interviewer stands from his seat, “Excuse me Mr. Virus, I would like to ask you about your Golden Contract and if you have any place or plan on using it?” The man then holds out his tape recorder.
“You would like to know that wouldn’t you? That is just too bad, it is a secret and will be until the very moment, I am standing over the former Champion with my hand raised in the air and crowned in victory.” I stand up and place my fedora on my head as I scan the room and lock eyes with John Haney. “Well I must say I hate you all and I wish I could say it was a pleasure but it wasn’t, now I have more business to attend to, if you will excuse me, it wasn’t worth anything meeting any of you...”
Slowly I creep from behind the table, all the veteran reporters quickly scurry there camera crews and head out, some of the new guys stay and yell questions at me that I just ignore. John Haney is one of the veterans but he isn’t with a crew and he is heading through back doors out to the back of the parking garage. Following behind him like a stealth ninja, he exits the convention center into the parking garage.
Perfect. Once outside the convention center, I reach in to the inside pocket of my trench coat and remove a syringe of flunitrazepam, a strong sedative for my new friend Mr. Haney. I stalk through a row of cars as I watch him unlock a plain white van and set his camera equipment in the back. Quickly I scan the garage for any other living form, nothing, I dart out from behind a new looking BMW and once I get right up behind Mr. John Haney, I inject him in the side of the neck with the syringe. Quickly throwing his limp body in the back of the van with his equipment I search his pockets for the keys.
With the keys in my hand I close the doors and climb in the driver seat, I start up the vehicle and drive away. Heading out of the garage and toward the alley way I told Trashcan to wait in. Backing up in the alley way I hop out and begin looking for Trashcan, who suddenly hops up out of a dumpster.
“Hiya Mr. Virus how was the conference?” He asks, I shake my head at his enthuisasm.
“It was alright, but I am going to need your help. Are you willing to do some things you might find morally corrupt, disturbing, and downright evil?”
Trashcan nods his head as a sinister look of complete darkness spreads over his face as I smile and pat his head, “That’s a good boy…”
TBC…