Post by Lissie Hope on Apr 14, 2019 22:39:24 GMT -5
“I don’t know what it is about this girl, Robbie,” Lissie said, speaking into her bluetooth. “Something special about her."
She had spent all morning watching old videos of Sam Kidsgrove’s interviews and matches, looking for his tendencies and weaknesses, trying to determine where he may be at his most vulnerable. But still, her mind kept going elsewhere. She found herself beaming with excitement every time her phone buzzed with a text message from Estrella Luiz.
“You’re smitten,” he replied. “It’s really cute, actually. But you’ve gotta keep your head in the game, Lissie.” His concern was apparent. “This is a huge opportunity for you, and the last thing I want is for your mind to get preoccupied. You need to focus on what’s at stake here.”
“I know, man,” she said, her frustration growing. “It’s really hard to put all this in perspective. Here I am, going for gold in only my third match--”
“And you’re more concerned with getting your dick wet.”
“I don’t have a dick, Robbie.” Now agitation. “Fuck off, dude. I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything. Thought you were my support system. My confidant.”
“Whoa, whoa. Lighten up, little sis. I’m just joking around, okay? I’m sorry,” he said, attempting to diffuse the situation. She paused and he decided he needed to keep speaking. “Listen, she seems like a great girl but I just think you’re treading dangerous waters. You’re going to get in the middle of them, and your heart could get hurt. Not to mention, you might be responsible for breaking up a true friendship.”
“Robbie, they’ve had issues far bigger and for far longer than me,” she answered. “I simply showed up when it all came to a head. It’s not my fault Kennedy’s an unreasonable twat.”
“I just hope you don’t do anything stupid to ruin this opportunity,” he warned. “Promise me that you’re prepared. And go win some gold.”
-----------------
What a fuckin’ whiner.
Sam Kidsgrove, you have the audacity to go on a long-winded Anti-American diatribe, yet you’re reaping all it’s benefits. Listen, I grew up with some of those hateful idiots you despise, but you know what I did?
I left.
I found greener pastures.
And I excelled; every time.
I don’t know you and I don’t care to, but what I’m realizing is that you have this chip on your shoulder about this business, this company, and the fans A-Dub adheres to, so don’t you pack up your fuckin’ bags and go home?
No one will miss you, you insufferable prick.
That International Championship you wear around your waist -- you can claim that you embody the spirit of the belt, that you represent all cultures and international communities, but just like your high-maintenance life, that belt is merely an accessory.
You don’t have the heart to hold that belt in high regard like I will.
I appreciate that you have the courtesy to acknowledge that I’m not a pushover, but believe me when I say that I don’t give a fuck if you underestimate me or not. The two chumps before you learned that lesson real quick, and you won’t be any different.
I’m taking that title from you at Clash of Champions, Kidsgrove.
It’s going to look a lot better around my waist.
Some people may say that my mind is preoccupied, that I’m coming into this unfocused and unprepared. I’ve dug my heels in and gotten myself right in the middle of Estrella and Kennedy’s friendship, but unluckily for you, that’s for another day. I will not let this saga get in the way of me kicking your ass and taking that title.
Can you say the same?
For Chrissakes, you spent the majority of your time talking about your failed faction and how much you’ve let them down, and how much you’re looking ahead to Dandy DiVito. Eyes up here, moron. You still gotta get through me, and though you acknowledge that it isn’t going to be easy, you still are seemingly looking past me.
Fuck you, man.
It’s going to be a huge surprise to you when I come out guns blazing ready to fuck your shit up. That pretty face of yours and that slick-backed hair, the camera crews and the makeup team, the nice cars and the nice clothes -- you care about all of that more than you care about being a champion. It’s clear as day. You’ve been making a mockery of this business for far too long.
Face the facts, asshole.
It's time for you to step aside and make room.
The new blood is here to rise.
-----------------
Note: My sincerest apologies to Sam Kidsgrove, Torture, and Gravedigger. I didn't make best use of my time this week and had no will or motivation to start writing. I ended up piecing together this vomit, and I'm so terribly sorry for not giving it my all after being granted this opportunity. Hopefully we'll meet again down the road.
She had spent all morning watching old videos of Sam Kidsgrove’s interviews and matches, looking for his tendencies and weaknesses, trying to determine where he may be at his most vulnerable. But still, her mind kept going elsewhere. She found herself beaming with excitement every time her phone buzzed with a text message from Estrella Luiz.
“You’re smitten,” he replied. “It’s really cute, actually. But you’ve gotta keep your head in the game, Lissie.” His concern was apparent. “This is a huge opportunity for you, and the last thing I want is for your mind to get preoccupied. You need to focus on what’s at stake here.”
“I know, man,” she said, her frustration growing. “It’s really hard to put all this in perspective. Here I am, going for gold in only my third match--”
“And you’re more concerned with getting your dick wet.”
“I don’t have a dick, Robbie.” Now agitation. “Fuck off, dude. I knew I shouldn’t have told you anything. Thought you were my support system. My confidant.”
“Whoa, whoa. Lighten up, little sis. I’m just joking around, okay? I’m sorry,” he said, attempting to diffuse the situation. She paused and he decided he needed to keep speaking. “Listen, she seems like a great girl but I just think you’re treading dangerous waters. You’re going to get in the middle of them, and your heart could get hurt. Not to mention, you might be responsible for breaking up a true friendship.”
“Robbie, they’ve had issues far bigger and for far longer than me,” she answered. “I simply showed up when it all came to a head. It’s not my fault Kennedy’s an unreasonable twat.”
“I just hope you don’t do anything stupid to ruin this opportunity,” he warned. “Promise me that you’re prepared. And go win some gold.”
-----------------
What a fuckin’ whiner.
Sam Kidsgrove, you have the audacity to go on a long-winded Anti-American diatribe, yet you’re reaping all it’s benefits. Listen, I grew up with some of those hateful idiots you despise, but you know what I did?
I left.
I found greener pastures.
And I excelled; every time.
I don’t know you and I don’t care to, but what I’m realizing is that you have this chip on your shoulder about this business, this company, and the fans A-Dub adheres to, so don’t you pack up your fuckin’ bags and go home?
No one will miss you, you insufferable prick.
That International Championship you wear around your waist -- you can claim that you embody the spirit of the belt, that you represent all cultures and international communities, but just like your high-maintenance life, that belt is merely an accessory.
You don’t have the heart to hold that belt in high regard like I will.
I appreciate that you have the courtesy to acknowledge that I’m not a pushover, but believe me when I say that I don’t give a fuck if you underestimate me or not. The two chumps before you learned that lesson real quick, and you won’t be any different.
I’m taking that title from you at Clash of Champions, Kidsgrove.
It’s going to look a lot better around my waist.
Some people may say that my mind is preoccupied, that I’m coming into this unfocused and unprepared. I’ve dug my heels in and gotten myself right in the middle of Estrella and Kennedy’s friendship, but unluckily for you, that’s for another day. I will not let this saga get in the way of me kicking your ass and taking that title.
Can you say the same?
For Chrissakes, you spent the majority of your time talking about your failed faction and how much you’ve let them down, and how much you’re looking ahead to Dandy DiVito. Eyes up here, moron. You still gotta get through me, and though you acknowledge that it isn’t going to be easy, you still are seemingly looking past me.
Fuck you, man.
It’s going to be a huge surprise to you when I come out guns blazing ready to fuck your shit up. That pretty face of yours and that slick-backed hair, the camera crews and the makeup team, the nice cars and the nice clothes -- you care about all of that more than you care about being a champion. It’s clear as day. You’ve been making a mockery of this business for far too long.
Face the facts, asshole.
It's time for you to step aside and make room.
The new blood is here to rise.
-----------------
Note: My sincerest apologies to Sam Kidsgrove, Torture, and Gravedigger. I didn't make best use of my time this week and had no will or motivation to start writing. I ended up piecing together this vomit, and I'm so terribly sorry for not giving it my all after being granted this opportunity. Hopefully we'll meet again down the road.