Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2013 14:11:59 GMT -6
Once again the greatest tag team on planet Earth is right where they belong. Finally there is a set of champions that give a shit about the belts. We are not assholes who are going to walk out with paper or even plastic championship belts. We are turning these belts into the world title. Colt is going to find that out this week when he is given the God Damned Business.
People might wonder if there is a problem between Colt and myself and that answer is a resounding yes. True the time spent on our perfect plan to destroy the will to compete of Pugh, Envy, and Inkt took a lot of time and a few things were allowed to let slide as the plan will change the entire face of the NEW as we know it. But watching Colt take a giant shit on the World Title was not out of my view and damned fucking sure not out of the view of mi amigo who is the greatest world champion in the history of the NEW.
Walking out with a plastic title and sending me a damned coin made from the title my ass has been chasing for three years is a slap to my face. You do not slap the Myth Killer in the face and you damned sure do not slap the Don of Disrespect in the face. His little bitch ass is going to learn the hard way what exactly happens when you disrespect those who have made a career of disrespecting others. Your ass is going to get kicked and that is the problem we are having with Colt.
The honest truth is he has to beat the best to call himself the fucking best. Sorry Jackass but Nocturnal and Valora are so far from the best it is a joke. He seems to think it is some type of big deal to defeat Valora and Nocturnal. This week you step into the ring with a man who is hungry for that strap. You are my warm up for Terror Dome in which the other five participants are going to get bitch slapped much like you are this week. What have you done to earn your so called title? Have you defeated me? You are nothing and the entire planet knows it. You want respect? Come and take it bitch.
It is always better to have a plan rather than let things fall where they may. This has been the philosophy from the beginning. The problem Colt has had is he was not faced the best. He had one match against Johnny that he pussed his way into for the Trans Atlantic Title. That is it. All of the seventy matches with Valora and Nocturnal only prove the point that he is a chump stain.
Of course my partner in crime and one half of not only the best tag team in wrestling history but one half of the new New Edge Wresting Tag Team Champion is standing beside me. Of course Colt is not the only one with a big ass book to rely on. This big ass book is in my arms as we stand outside of the Circle K.
"Hunter, what is the deal with the book? That shit looks like my career rolling papers for stinky ass weed. I do not know about you but I need a damned blunt."
Johnny sets his newly won Tag Title belt in front of him on the ground as he pulls out a bag of a green substance. The bag is about half full and the inner part of the baggy looks cloudy as if he has had this shit for a while. In case you are wondering, of course this asshat took the World Tag Title belt to the Cricle K. As if there was any doubt in anyone's mind. He probably showered with the fucking thing on.
"You see Patnuh I believe in being very through about the so called World Champion carrying around a plastic belt. He has not even figured out it is a joke on him. Well he is going to understand that much very soon. I feel we should go through the NEW record book which has been done. We shall see if he is a legit champion or a piece of shit like three quarters of the NEW roster and fanbase take him to be anyways."
A sheet of paper is removed from the jeans that adorn my body. It was folded not so neatly into sections of four to fit into the pocket in the first place. To say there was a rush to leave the building it was obtained from is quite obvious.
"The first match this asshat had in a successful debut was against a tool that is nothing more than a small footnote in the history of New Edge Wrestling. He faced some jackoff named Dawson and won. This started the life of Colt as a New Edge wrestler. He was successful against a complete tool. This would become a recurring trend"
"Hunter, that does not surprise me but then who has he beaten really?"
"You."
"Fuck you dood! That was bullshit when he took my Trans Atlantic Title from me. We all know what the phuck happened there."
"Mi Amigo we are getting to that all in good time. Needless to say his start was not that of beating a legend or anything. That is the actual fucking point. He followed that shit up with a victory over a joke named Shane Sparx and a victory over another joke in the Young blood Champion Dixie Clement. Let's just say those two were very unimpressive. Even though Sparx was the NEW champion at the time he was a joke of a champion just like Colt is. It is ironic that he called Sparx a joke but that is exactly what he has become."
"Hunter I think we can move on from those two. Is there anything you noticed in the history books about those wins?"
"Two things actually, mi amigo. The first is that for being the face of the company and being the best which he claims to be, he sure takes a lot of time off. A World Champion needs to be the man and what the company represents. This company does not need a champion to represent it with a part time wrestler like him."
"And the second?"
"The second is he sure does need a lot of help winning matches. I mean looking back on it he needed Kevin Rouser to help him win the fucking TA title from you and soon after he got choked the fuck out by Valora of all people. This leads to his less than spectacular Trans Atlantic title reign. That shit was worse than an Al Envy World Title reign or any Shane Sparx reign. It was almost as embarrassing as the one hour title reign of Adrien Specter. Please note he never mentions the embarrassment of being choked the fuck out."
"Hunter, we are now to his bullshit win over me and the fact that he needed Rouser to even get the job done and then getting choked the fuck out by Valora. What is next?"
"He got the hell kicked out of him by Nocturnal. Let me repeat he got his ass handed to him by that second class reject. How does one become so shitty as to lose to him? He wants to be the best? Try not losing to stiffs, cocksucker."
The paper is turned over as it was all that was available to write these notes on in confined conditions. The entire life of Colt as a wrestler is defined in these sentences. To say it is was less than impressive is a massive understatement.
"He had a match with Devon Stone that he almost lost."
"He almost lost to Devin Stone? What is his name, Jesse Styles?"
"If his name was Jesse Styles then he would have lost to him outright at the biggest event of the year. Soon after this started the disturbing trend of needing help. I am pretty sure Tucker had something to do with this. That is a situation you and I will soon address once this shit is over. He needed help from his ass buddy Nocturnal to get a win over Father Nathan who is not exactly in the main event. So he needs help beating second rate pieces of trash by needing help from people just like them. Kind of ironic don't you think?"
"Okay Alanis Morrisette keep going."
"Dude nice reference. He proved his trust soon after by joining the group that I founded and created. He joined the Foundation soon after my exit from the company. Of course no one asked me about continuing it. He turned his back on them the week after that. So he gave his word and then went back on it. So he is not only worthless as a champion but not a liar and a fraud too."
The paper is folded back to reveal more of this history as the whiteness of the paper is giving way to time and turning a bright yellowish tint. The information was written less than a week ago but the paper was already of that hue. A squint is needed to decipher the writing that was hurriedly done.
"The clown actually did something right and won a five way match with Dathan, Valora, Nocturnal, and Blair Buchanan. He got the pin using his finisher and no help was needed. This match more than any other put him on the map. Too bad we cannot change that part of history knowing what a piece of trash he would turn out to be."
"Hunter, what is this all about?"
"It is really quite simple. The part of the plan of Domsetik Disturbance has been to beat worthless as fuck World Champions in non-title matches before the actual World Title shot is given. You did it with Jake Slade. Colt is my Jake Slade. You see he is going to try to refute all of these points. I am sure he will say that he threw the Trans Atalntic Title because Tucker told him to. I am sure he will deny all knowledge of the help he received to win the bullshit matches that ended up giving him the World Title shots he unworthily got. Only when faced with hard facts can he be pinned down and made to give an explanation."
"Bro, what the fuck?"
In the middle of a valid point the riveting pain coursed through my weakened body and the pain was so intense it dropped me to my knees. It started in the middle of damaged vertebrae and went clear up to the top of my damned head. That fucking hip toss from that steroid freak Inkt into the steel guard rail took its toll even though we got the job done and regained our property.
"That fucking tool Inkt and his steroided up ass. Do me a favor and beat the fuck out of him for me. There is nothing worse than a sore loser. Speaking of sore losers I wonder how Al is taking the shot to the head with those brass knucks."
"Probably the same as the other losses I have handed him. Beating Al Almost is almost as fun as beating up Specter was. He is probably convalescing with Pugh and Inkt in the sanitarium of losers. I wonder when he is going to realize he is not in the cRu anymore and in United."
"This side of never? I mean he is still using that shitty catchphrase he stole from X. That kind of reminds me of Colt stealing the World Title and turning it into a joke. But I digress from the original point. The moron went on to defeat Elizabeth Deveroux as if everyone in the fucking free world hasn't done that trick. It is as easy to beat her as it is to fuck her, which ain't hard at all. He followed that shit up with a cheap win over Tommy Kain. Once again Tommy is not exactly the greatest in the world."
"What do you mean a cheap win?"
"Tommy's foot was under the bottom rope as the referee tolled his count. In reality that pin never should have counted. Tommy very well could have gotten up and kicked his ass. But we will never know about that shit right now. He sure does get a lot of cheap wins over shitty talent. But then who would know that better than you?"
"Phuck you dood! Do I really have to listen to you talk about my loss to that shit phucking loser? I already told you that I lost that match because Rouser got in the way."
"That is kind of the point, padnuh. He can never seem to get the job done in the big match without help. Sure he can beat some loser just fine but when it comes down to it he cannot get it done in the middle against the best. That trend will continue against me. He followed that shit up with a loss in a tag match teaming with Valora and then losing the world title to Noc. Apparently the only person in the history of the NEW Noc doesn't choke against in a title match is Colt."
"IS that it?"
"Nope. He defeated Omega as if that is hard to do and KOP with help. He needed Renegade to come in and win the damned match for him. This was on the road to his title match with Noc that he won. Then he beat Valora as if that shit is hard to do."
"Didn't Valora beat you?"
“Valora beat me because Roger Wright cannot get the job done. He came in as a referee that was supposed to call the match my way but he botched it and Valora took him out. That shit would not have happened to you, brah. Anyways Valora is getting her ass handed to her in Terror Dome. She is the female version of Nocturnal in big matches. Now padnuh what have we learned?”
“Colt is a champion who sucks balls?”
“Well kinda, J. We also learned that he is a champion that is a disgraced to the title that my ass has been chasing for the last three fucking years. He has disgraced the symbol the title represents but that is not his greatest sin. He is a champion with no balls. If he had a set and honestly believed the shit he was spewing he would put the strap on the line. He wants to be the best of the jokes is more truthful. He shows up every other week and needs help against joke competition. Holy shit! I think we have Adrien Specter and Shane Sparx all over again.”
“Hunter, I agree with every single word you just said. The problem is we know he does not have the balls to put the strap on the line. So you are going to destroy him so Inkt can win the strap? How does that make sense?”
“First can I ask you a question?”
“Shoot.”
“What was your strategy at Terrordome since I have never been in one?”
“Well I found someone to focus on and went right after them. Why are you asking me that?”
“Seeing as you are zero for your damned life in Terror Dome I figured I would find out your strategy and do the exact fucking opposite. That way I am assured of a win.”
“Phuck you dood! My Terror Dome record is that same as your one-on-one record against me bitch! Now what is the Got Damned plan before I smack you again.”
“Do you remember the phone booth?”
“How the phuck could I forget that shit? We kicked the crap out of that old man and gave him junk weed to get that shit. Now what is your point?”
A phone booth appears from the ground as the lights are going off on it like crazy. There is smoke coming from the bottom of it and knowing us as we do that is not just smoke from a fire if you catch my drift. The booth is open as a few numbers are pressed on the console and we are ready to go.
“What the phuck is that shit? There was no console on that shit before. Let me hit a few of those damned buttons.”
“You are not touching it seeing as everything you touch turns to shit. The coordinates are set and this will be one of our best journeys ever. You see as I was leaving our little encounter with Colt I found him writing in a book. OF course my curiosity had to know what he was writing and it was his memoirs. I found that someone was reading the book in the future. So with a couple of trips to the future I found the little fuck mook who had found the fucking thing. This is where this book comes into play.”
“So let me see if I got this, pahds. We are going to the future and phucking this dood up and then what? He is still going to have the book in his possession. I guess we could burn it.”
“Easy pyro. Burning shit all the time is not the answer. This time is going to require a little bit of tact and finesse. Granted those two are not exactly our strong suit but what the hell right? No we are taking the damned book with us and replacing with this history written by Roger Wright. As we all know anytime Roger opens his mouth everyone goes to sleep. So the kid is out and we take this book with us.”
“Next question. How do you know where the kid is at? His location has not been disclosed. We cannot go all over time to find this little J Brone!”
“I did a few trips right after our successful World Tag Title Win. I found out that in the future Roger Wright becomes President of the United States. He is a corrupt Politian.”
‘Fucking seriously? And I thought that was only a botched gimmick.”
“Nope really. It took a little muscle and a few favors but he sent his people out and found the location of this fucking J Brone. So the coordinates are in there and all we have to do is press go.”
Johnny walks to the booth and enters as my ass follows right behind him. The green button is pressed and the lights whir as if it were a 1970’s dance floor. With a flash the phone booth drops into the ground and we are off and running. There was one slight miscalculation.
My back had tightened up after the beating Inkt gave to it in his roid rage. The stress of the time travel has taken its toll on my weary body and it hurt like a son of a bitch. It had been felt before in the prior trips but in this case my back had gotten worse. The floor of the booth was my new home as Johnny looked down at me with an amused look on his face. Mercifully the booth stopped and we stepped out.
Knowing this trip would only take ten minutes at the max the booth was set to be returning to the adjoining room in twenty minutes. The fact is we could do this shit without the kid knowing but somehow it would be more fun if he knew. So the time had been set from the second he entered the storage room filled with cans and bottle of water. As we got there the book from the table had been removed and put into a knapsack on my hip and replaced with a book entitled ‘Presidential Memoirs of Roger Wright’. Johnny got a chuckle out of that one.
“Dood you really are a dick. Having that kid locked in here for three months with only that boring ass shit to read? If that book is as dry and uinreadable as his damned voice is that will be its own personal hell”
“For the first thing without relying on the Colt ‘story’ he could have gotten out in a matter of days by constructing the makeshift stairs out of this shit hole. For the second thing that was a gift from our future president for contributing to his slush fund. DO you think Jesse will miss 100,000 from the budget? I mean he pays asshats like Colt and Inkt so he has to be rolling.”
“He would miss a penny taken from his account. We are going to have to pay that shit back.”
As we are talking the door bursts open and a scared kid runs into the door. He is looking around to make sure the place is safe. He sees the two of us dressed in our jeans and Domestik Disturbance t shirts. Johnny is of course still holding the belt on his shoulder. Perhaps he could have changed our wardrobe just a touch.
The kid is looking for the door but he knows that trouble is waiting for him out there. Of course the book sat on the lone table. He knows that this is his safe haven and if he were to run from the room it would mean the man chasing him would find him. Tentatively he looks at us and decides we are safer than the dudes following him. How wrong he is.
“Whoa little buddy. You might now want to go out there in the face of true and present danger. You might want to chill out in here for a while and let the heat get off of you. Now you are here for a reason and that reason is for me to speak to you.”
Johnny is acting as the muscle to intimidate the kid and he is doing on hell of a job. The kid looks like he is about to cry. Johnny does not break as it is his job to scare the kid and make me the voice he will listen to. We have done this shit so many fucking times it is scary. It works every time like winning a tag team title match.
“Whooooo arrreeee youuuuu?”
“We are here to help you from your little dilemma. You see you are much like the person you would like to read about. Why do you think this way you might ask and how do we know that? Well some questions are better off unanswered. You see the person who captivated you in some funky ass journal is much like you. He is a no good worthless thief who is trying to convince the world he is innocent of crimes in the past. He is a man who lost his memory and anyone that has that happens is probably a no good piece of shit or a Jason Bourne mark.”
“You do not know me.”
His reply came a little bit more confidently as he is starting to get used to his new surroundings. He had been running through the trees and bushes to escape the men who were looking for him. The evidence of this was the torn jeans and shirt that hung loosely from his fucking body. He was standing defiantly in front of us, blissfully unaware that we could snap his neck if we chose to.
“I know your type, kid. A person does not run unless he did something wrong. Do not worry we could care less about your ill-gotten gain. It is more about the man you worship. Hopefully we can show you the true mature of his weakness. You see he used a kid to get what he wanted. He played on the emotions of the weak. That is the type of loser you are. Who loses their memory? Those who are in a position to lose it. He did bad things before that much is a fact. Why else would Tucker be worried about someone recognizing him?
‘What are you talking about?”
“You read the memoirs of a man named Colt. He went Jason Bourne and lost his memory. Of course Jason Bourne was a mercenary for the government who was a total dick before he lost his memory. This is the same with Colt. He now had something in his possession that does not belong to him. This is much like you. You stole from those who bought and paid for something legitimately but you did not care much as he did not care. You enjoyed his writing because he was describing you.”
“Are you going to turn me in?”
Johnny sees that the kid is a bit on edge and tries to help him out. Johnny lights up as blunt and takes a big hit from it. He softens to the kid and passes it to him. The kid looked like Johnny was asking him to listen to an Al Envy promo. The kid recoiled at the smell of the stinky weed.
“What the hell is that?”
“It is a mother phucking joint, bitch.”
“What is a joint?”
“You know Marijuana.”
“What is Marijuana?”
“What the phuck? Don’t you people get high in the future?”
“We get high but we use HGHD. It is a computer generated substance that is taken under the tongue. Smoke is not good for you so it no longer exists.”
“Let me see if I have this straight. You replaced phucking weed with something from a computer that slides under your tongue? HUNTER! PHUCKING KILL ME!”
OF course a hearty laugh comes from me. I already knew about HDHG and knew he would flip a bitch if he ever found out. This was why he needed to be on this trip in the first place. I am still a dick even to my best friend.
“Nah we got shit to do homie!”
“There is no Got Damned Weed in the future. There is no reason to live.”
Johnny fucks with his phone for a little bit. When we got back together the phone that flipped out from the ice ages was replaced by a brand new Droid and he had problems using it. The kid looked at him and took his phone. He began trying to teach Johnny how to use it.
“I heard of these things in the museum the other day.. Okay we can set up your browser on the phone. This way you can save it to your bookmarks and every site you go to can be accessed easily.”
“What the phuck is a browser?”
“Sir, it is how you access the internet. What is your password to get to your browser.”
“envykilledthecru”
Of course the two of us get another hearty laugh at Al’s expense. God it is so fun to rip that guy apart it is almost laughable. We have both made him our bitch on more than one occasion. Johnny is really enjoying this until he gets the phone back and the kid is teaching him how to use the fucking thing.
“Okay here is the star. You see it at the top of the screen?”
‘It is a big phucking yellow star. How the phuck could I miss it? I am not retarded you know.”
Of course this shit was funny as shit to me. My laughter was to the point standing was an impossibility. Rolling on the ground in pain was making Johnny a bit irritable. More accurately, he was pissed the fuck off.
“Laugh it up asshole. Okay I click the mother phucking star now what?”
“You go to your bookmarks at the top of the page and everything saved comes up. You simply go from there and when you see the site you want you click it and your site comes up.”
“That phucking shit is amazing. I cannot wait until we have this shit in the present time I come from.”
OF course this makes me laugh even harder. My gut and back are hurting me the laughter is to such a point. He knows my ass is laughing at him and his mood is not good. He slaps me on the back of the head for making fun of him or more presicsely about to make fun of him.
“Jackass! We have that now.”
‘Could have fooled me.”
“Technology 1 Johnny Stylez zero.”
“Phuck you dood! One day I am going to be the best at working this shit ever!”
“That is like saying that Colt is going to be the best wrestler in the NEW. We both know…”
“Not another phucking word! I am serious!”
It is best for all of us in the room to move the fuck on. He is so pissed off his face is getting red. It is best to let him stand in the corner like he is right now. Handling this shit will be easier if he is silent anyways.
“Okay kid, we have had our fun. Now you are going to be in here a while and you are going to read this shit. The other book is coming with us.”
The kid reads the book title and gives off a face as if he drank spoiled milk. He does not look pleased to have to read the memoirs of Roger Cena. I would be pretty pissed if it were me as well.
“Roger Wright is the most boring piece of trash ever. Why can’t not read the other book you spoke of?”
“Because that book will do you nothing but harm. Think of it this way you can leave this room as soon as the heat is off because the memoirs on the table are paper thin and you would not take them with you. This other book is heavy to a little shit like you. It is a blessing.”
“Where the hell did you guys come from?”
“A time where idiots like you and your hero get their asses kicked as they should. We set things right and we do not steal from others. Let this be a fucking lesson to you.”
“Come on asshat, we gotta roll!”
“Good point J. Remember read that boring shit and all will be fine.”
The two of us head into the other room and step into the booth. A whir of lights sends us back to where we came from. Once again in a few minutes we find ourselves at the Circle K. Johnny lights up yet another fatty as he leans against the booth we exit from.
“Hunter, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure thing brutha!”
“Does that favorite thing really exist now?”
“Fucking unreal”
The two of us stand there shooting the shit and smoking the good stuff as the cars in the night pass us by without a care in the world. The large book in my knapsack will definitely be used in the future. It is definitely not a good day to be Colt.