Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2013 19:39:40 GMT -6
What in the hell are these idiots doing here? It has been a while since these people have been in this room with me. This is the meeting of the official fan club of Hunter Valentyne. Normally no one ever shows up because people tend to loathe me. But in this case the room is packed. It makes me wonder if it is free beer and pizza night. Before there were like two people and one of them is Vince Walters and does not count.
But in this case there is a room full of people and all of them are wearing either Hazard t shirts or King of Pain merchandise. Not a single Hunter Valentyne t shirt in the bunch. Not that my ass has ever sold merch because there is nothing that interests me about having a bunch of snot nosed little brats wearing my shit. It kind of makes me wonder why Roger Wright gives a damn if these losers like him or not.
Being here is a supreme sacrifice for me because there is nothing I would rather ditch than the meeting of my fucking fan club. This reminds me of the importance of this week. This week is all about me. This week is all about making the supreme sacrifice to get to where I want to be. This week is where someone like LA Quief proves how bad he wants it instead of pandering to the unwashed masses.
The building is as antiquated as Kief’s lame ass whale jokes. He is quite pathetic. Everyone likes to blather on about how he almost beat Nocturnal for the World Title. This was more of an indictment of Nocturnal and his lack of skill in the ring and less about Kief being good at what he does. A nine year old could be Nocturnal and probably has somewhere.
The surroundings were sterile as it felt like one of the hospitals where Pugh and Wright try to recover from their WWX injuries. The scent was almost too clean as it made me gag in my mouth a little bit. Everything was either grey or white. It was almost as if color had been sucked out of the room buy some invisible vacuum. The same vaccum that sucks the life out of the crowd when Kief performs I am sure.
The little kid is standing in the middle of the room wearing his Hazard t shirt with a smile on his face. He looks at the scowl on my face and quickly avoids eye contact with me just as his bullshit hero does. Hazard does not have an ounce of balls in him. His little appearance in my match showed me just that. He thinks hitting me with the 13th Floor was a big deal. It only showed how little balls her truly has. Be a man not a bitch, Haz.
You see if Hunter Valentyne has a problem with someone he calls them out. They step into the ring only to realize how truly outmatched they really are. Then Hunter Valentyne drops them on their head for the 1,2,3. They are never heard or seen again for quite a while. Hazard knows this shit better than anyone in the world.
“Ladies and Gentlemen it is my honor to call the first meeting of the Hunter Valentyne hate club. This is for people who hate this man more than they like anyone else. I can see people are interested in this club and that is freaking awesome.”
All of these people pay their hard earned money just to hate me. It is difficult to comprehend how these losers scraped up the money to pay the entrance fee. How can these tools even get a damned erection let alone form a club based on hatred of me. This leads me to wonder if they understand my ass could give a shit less if they hate me or not.
“This is quite nice. All of the Hazard and KOP shirts in this room and you wonder why you are losers. Have you figured out that the reason you are fans of these second rate citizens is because I have made you? Did you ever stop to think that since banging Hazard’s sister he has gained in popularity? Did you ever stop to think that since giving Nalia Andrews the business people have begun to cheer for Ray Andrews? It is not some sort of popularity these morons have it is that the fans of the NEW feel sorry for them?”
“Do you think that big goofy piece of trash really wants your praise? He knows it is because you feel sorry for him much as his last piece of ass did. Sure he choke slammed me through a fucking table and my back is still killing me but in the end it is I who is going on to beat LA Kief and move on to Terror dome while those idiots get to sit and watch me win the title.”
The people in the room are getting angry ay my truthful words. To me they are faceless names but to some they are recognizable. In reality all of the people who boo me and hate on me are all the same face. Each time someone says something negative about me the face that is visible as that of my father. He told me many times that my life would not be shit and each time. Each time the successes of my chosen career were made certain it gave me pleasure to prove that bastard wrong.
“Cunter, where are our heroes of the Styles Mafia? Where is the unstoppable monster Hazard? Where is the former X Core champion King of Pain. Where is the owner of the NEW Jesse Styles? Give us what we want?”
“This week is all about me. It has nothing to do with Jesse even though we are friends. Ray Andrews had a chance to defeat me and become a part of the second round of Terrordome qualifying. Once again he failed. Hazard thought interfering in my match would get him somewhere. The only thing it is going to get him is his ass kicked. Her tried to screw me out of Terrordome but that shit will never happen. This week is about goals and making those goals a reality. Winning Terrordome is the priority and has nothing to do with those two morons.”
The people are starting to rustle about as my words have once again struck a chord in their souls. People can love me or hate me and it is usually the latter. The one thing they cannot say is they are apathetic toward me. Generally when people hate me it means they care enough to mention me. When idiots hate on me it means my job is being done well.
“Cunter, why do you insist on burying you team mates in the Styles Mafia? Why do you do the things to Ray Andrews and Hazard that you do. Is it any wonder they hate you?”
“Get this through your heads right damned now. I do not care if those two hate me or not. The Styles Mafia is not some J Brone organization. I do not join anything to be mediocre. Let’s face facts no one is going to confuse Johnny Stylez for Ray Andrews in terms of achievements or talent. No one is going to confuse Hazard for Triple X. There is one star in the Styles mafia and you are looking at him. What was done was to bring out the best in Ray Andrews. Did you see the match? He had one of the best of his career against me in the main event. My job is being done right. Did you see the monster come to the ring and chokeslammed me through a table? He did it without thinking which was the goal. I built to monster into what he was born to be and that was a reactive killing machine. I built Ray into a main event talent when he lost to Renegade the week before. I turned Ray single handedly into someone of relevance. I am Hazard seem like less of a joke. I made the fucking Styles Mafia what is.”
The people are getting angry as pain shoot through my back. It feels like someone stabbed me in the back with a pitchfork. The taunting from my long since dead father was there. His doubts of me were resembled in the pain riveting through my body. The fear that something could end this ride in the world of pro wrestling was there as well as my father telling me I was nothing.
“Hunter, why do you mock the people of the Styles Mafia so much? Do you not realize that Kief is going to beat your ass and teabag you like only a real man can.”
“The match this week with Kief is about me. I realize the tactic taken was the wrong route. My goal was to turn these men into valid competitors worthy of being associated with me. I tried to lead them by the hand and I now realize that was the wrong plan. I was trying to motivate them out of love. Out of the desire to help them become the best they could be. Apparently they were too stupid to realize it was for their own good. Now it has become real to me. Now it is time for me to motivate out of fear. What is going to happen is the process that begins this week. It will begin with the brutal beating of LA Kief. Then my ass will go on to Kamikazee and I will win Terrordome. It is on to Justice to claim the title that I was never beaten for. Once those things happen my resume will be complete. Once the World Strap is around my waist, those morons will have no choice but to fall in line. I will be the leader of the Styles Mafia. Once that happens we will need a new name.”
“Jesse will never let you get away with that.”
“We shall see my virgin friend. But before all of that comes the beating of a lifetime for LA Kief and I will do it with pleasure for one reason and one reason only.”
“What is that?”
“Because you idiots love him because he is just like you. You worship him because he makes an ass out of himself and you morons have made him into a pop idol. You forget everything about him is lame. You forget that he references me dating whales which will never happen. He talked trash about me and forgot who is the greatest trash talker in the history of this business is.`”
“Triple X?”
“Bitch please. The dude that I beat into a bloody pulp in the middle of my ring and made run away like the fucking piece of shit he is? The same guy who handpicked his opponents and made sure no one was there for him to face during his horseshit title run?”
“Handpicked?”
“Why do you think the shitty ass cRu came to be? Triple X knew he did not have the balls or the talent to get the job done. He needed Envy to be out of the picture. He damned sure needed Johnny out of the picture. But this is not about some wash out who was never good enough to hold my damned jock. This is about me getting my World Title belt that no one can deny.”
“You see LA Kief can make all of the references to whales he wishes to. He can talk about all of the balls he wants to. He can run his mouth about every topic but the one he should focus on is the brutal ass kicking he is about to receive. The only thing to help him get over the loss will be all of the losers like you. The people who claim to support him but it makes sense actually. Who would know more about being a loser than you people? You came out here to show your hatred of me. The sad part is you morons actually though I cared.”
With that final parting shot my gait leads me to the door as the people are looking at me. They wanted to stick it to me but in the end they had egg on their faces because for all of the Cunter thoughts and all of the hatred it matters not because of my lack of caring. Some day they will learn but apparently not today.