Uri Gellar's Bent Spoon Soliloquy
Mar 31, 2019 20:12:47 GMT -5
Wade Moor, Dandy DiVito, and 1 more like this
Post by Guillotine (QDT) on Mar 31, 2019 20:12:47 GMT -5
I've laid a table with a purple mat with a gold coin in the centre and an upside down wine glass to the side. Scattered around are a top hat with playing cards draped along the rim, a toy bunny, a wand and a few crystals. My gorgeous redhead assistant wiggles on my lap and periodically "ooh"s and "ah"s at my feats of chicanery. For my next trick, I curtain the wine glass with a stripy cloth. I slide it over the coin, remove the cloth... and the coin disappears.
Quixote: I don't believe in magic.
I turn the wine glass over to reveal a circular segment of the purple table mat glued to the top that had concealed the coin underneath.
Magic, goblins, fairies, Casey Holliday's "wrestling skills"... all worthless illusions. The public lap this shit up like cats slurping cum. Anything that gives their pathetic lives meaning and distracts them from their futile existence. They cling to puerile concepts like love which we all know is simply evolution's way of bonding weak sheeple together for when wolves like me strike. I have no interest in archaic brain chemistry fluctuations and commercialised sentimentality. Gods, angels, demons? There's no such thing as a Higher Power. There's only a Lower Power and you're having a religious experience on it, ain't ya sugar?
Redhead giggles and bounces against my colossal bulge.
Magic Maddox. Even children know that magic is merely ILLUSION, yet you seem so utterly DELUDED. You genuinely believe you have supernatural abilities; this isn't simply a game for you. Who's facilitating your insanity? Who follows behind you in the shadows with smoke and mirrors? Speaking of deluded, Action Wrestling have deemed it appropriate to not only overlook your heinous theft of my 201 & Fun Title but to reward you with a title shot in your second match. And you earned that... how?! A barely competent win over Doctor Cynicism?
My assistant whispers sweet nothings in my ear... only they are more insightful than sweet.
Great point Yolanda. AW aren't rewarding you, Maddox, you're being punished! This may look like your big opportunity but it's really your disappearing act like hoards of 201 jobbers before you. The best form of illusion is misdirection. You're shuffling your cards to conjure up my Title but ultimately you're playing with an invisible deck. Sleight of hand and twist of fate, on a bed of nails I'll seal your fate. You may try to outwrestle me but you give yourself away every time.
She whispers again.
Eh? Who the fuck are U2?! Anyway, Maddox, I don't doubt your sincerity. Unlike other jobbers, you seem wholeheartedly committed to your act. You're certainly an Ace in the Hole. But if you think you can shout Abra-ca-fuckin-dabra, wave your inadequate wand and somehow become the Champ, life doesn't work that way, bitchass joker. I am the greatest 201 & Fun Champion in history, by frequency and in quality; there's no Hocus Pocus, no secrets or explanations needed; I'm too damn good. No matter your black arts, the final act will be the same - The Guillotine will fall on you - 1, 2, 3, Hey Presto and Voila! AND STILL 201 & Fun Champion, Quixote Della Torre!
POOF! In front of your very eyes, my glamorous assistant disappears.
Just a camera trick. I'll be making magic with her in my bed in mere minutes. Maddox, the heckling has begun; it's nearly time for me to throw you off the stage. The illusion of your delusion is about to be exposed. You do not have powers. You are not Magnificent. I reveal the YOU you conceal. It's about time your psychiatric disorder no longer be indulged and that you be consigned to a career more suitable for you like a pantomime extra or kids birthday party entertainer. The Squared Circle isn't The Magic Circle. Oh and I'll take my fuckin' belt back, freak. That's my oath.
POOF! Suddenly, I've vanished.
I don't believe in magic.
POOF! Glamorous assistant is back, now nude, spread sexily on the table with a hat covering her cave of wonders and her nipples concealed by playing cards.
But Magic Maddox will believe in ME.
Quixote: I don't believe in magic.
I turn the wine glass over to reveal a circular segment of the purple table mat glued to the top that had concealed the coin underneath.
Magic, goblins, fairies, Casey Holliday's "wrestling skills"... all worthless illusions. The public lap this shit up like cats slurping cum. Anything that gives their pathetic lives meaning and distracts them from their futile existence. They cling to puerile concepts like love which we all know is simply evolution's way of bonding weak sheeple together for when wolves like me strike. I have no interest in archaic brain chemistry fluctuations and commercialised sentimentality. Gods, angels, demons? There's no such thing as a Higher Power. There's only a Lower Power and you're having a religious experience on it, ain't ya sugar?
Redhead giggles and bounces against my colossal bulge.
Magic Maddox. Even children know that magic is merely ILLUSION, yet you seem so utterly DELUDED. You genuinely believe you have supernatural abilities; this isn't simply a game for you. Who's facilitating your insanity? Who follows behind you in the shadows with smoke and mirrors? Speaking of deluded, Action Wrestling have deemed it appropriate to not only overlook your heinous theft of my 201 & Fun Title but to reward you with a title shot in your second match. And you earned that... how?! A barely competent win over Doctor Cynicism?
My assistant whispers sweet nothings in my ear... only they are more insightful than sweet.
Great point Yolanda. AW aren't rewarding you, Maddox, you're being punished! This may look like your big opportunity but it's really your disappearing act like hoards of 201 jobbers before you. The best form of illusion is misdirection. You're shuffling your cards to conjure up my Title but ultimately you're playing with an invisible deck. Sleight of hand and twist of fate, on a bed of nails I'll seal your fate. You may try to outwrestle me but you give yourself away every time.
She whispers again.
Eh? Who the fuck are U2?! Anyway, Maddox, I don't doubt your sincerity. Unlike other jobbers, you seem wholeheartedly committed to your act. You're certainly an Ace in the Hole. But if you think you can shout Abra-ca-fuckin-dabra, wave your inadequate wand and somehow become the Champ, life doesn't work that way, bitchass joker. I am the greatest 201 & Fun Champion in history, by frequency and in quality; there's no Hocus Pocus, no secrets or explanations needed; I'm too damn good. No matter your black arts, the final act will be the same - The Guillotine will fall on you - 1, 2, 3, Hey Presto and Voila! AND STILL 201 & Fun Champion, Quixote Della Torre!
POOF! In front of your very eyes, my glamorous assistant disappears.
Just a camera trick. I'll be making magic with her in my bed in mere minutes. Maddox, the heckling has begun; it's nearly time for me to throw you off the stage. The illusion of your delusion is about to be exposed. You do not have powers. You are not Magnificent. I reveal the YOU you conceal. It's about time your psychiatric disorder no longer be indulged and that you be consigned to a career more suitable for you like a pantomime extra or kids birthday party entertainer. The Squared Circle isn't The Magic Circle. Oh and I'll take my fuckin' belt back, freak. That's my oath.
POOF! Suddenly, I've vanished.
I don't believe in magic.
POOF! Glamorous assistant is back, now nude, spread sexily on the table with a hat covering her cave of wonders and her nipples concealed by playing cards.
But Magic Maddox will believe in ME.