Post by Dandy DiVito on Oct 17, 2021 13:55:55 GMT -5
I ain’t gotta build me up. I ain’t gotta stare into this fuckin’ camera an’ proclaim that I’m a fuckin’ threat to yo’ run on top, Shaw. I ain’t gotta scream into the fuckin’ ether that I’m the biggest challenge yo’ ass eva seen. Nope. Ain’t gotta. ‘Cause e’rybody already know that shit’s true. E’rybody already seen what I can do. An’ they damn sure know that yo’ record ‘gainst me ain’t reflective of what we done in the ring or the kinda fuck-fuck you been playin’ wit’ my fuckin’ life.
Here’s the fuckin’ thing, Shaw. You say it’s death, taxes, Shaw beats Dandy, but you ain’t never beat me. Sure you got some fuckin’ wins, but winnin’ ain’t beatin’, Shaw. You ain’t never beat me, ‘cause they ain’t nobody ever fuckin’ beat me. I’m THE AW original fo’ a fuckin’ reason, Shaw. I been ‘roun’ the block wit’ e’rybody of note in this fuckin’ place: Kidsgrove, Richards, Hope, Speede, Kemp, Odin, Adams, Lockhart. I won way mo’ often than I fuckin’ lost, but the most essential bit a fuckin’ knowledge is this: no matter the fuckin’ outcomes, ain’t NOBODY on that list or any other EVER fuckin’ beat Dandy DiVito.
Dandy heard a knock on his door in Jacksonville as he milled about the house. His head turned toward the door, and his face contorted in confusion.
“Who the fuck…?”
As Dandy approached the door again, he heard another knock.
“Perisistant li’l fucka.”
Dandy looked through the peephole and saw a mailman. Even more confused than before, he opened the door to figure out what was happening.
“Yo, man. Why ain’t you jus’ usin’ the mailbox?”
“Certified letter, sir. I can’t drop it off if you don’t sign.”
“Certified letter? What the fuck? Who that shit from?”
“If you sign right here, it’s all yours to figure that out for yourself.”
Dandy reaches out to take the mailman’s pen, signs the form, and collects the letter. The mailman nods at Dandy.
“Have a good day, sir. Thank you for using the USPS!”
Dandy retreated back into the house.
“Uh, yeah, uh, sure.”
Dandy carried the envelope into his kitchen and grabbed a knife that was entirely too big for the letter opening job at hand. He awkwardly maneuvered his knife into the gap on the flap of the thoroughly taped manilla envelope as the blade made quick work of the task. Dandy grabbed the letter and unfolded it so everything was on full display before him.
As Dandy read, he shook his head in disbelief.
Dear Dandy,
I just thought you would want to know that with the assistance of my outstanding team of lawyers, I will be filing a suit that will argue that I am the father of the bastard child growing inside of Yaz.
See you at Execution, Stepdad-To-Be.
Carter Shaw
I just thought you would want to know that with the assistance of my outstanding team of lawyers, I will be filing a suit that will argue that I am the father of the bastard child growing inside of Yaz.
See you at Execution, Stepdad-To-Be.
Carter Shaw
Look, Shaw, you been spendin’ yo’ whole fuckin’ time since you won All In paintin’ yo’self into a corner that is only escapable when some mo’fucka that don’t care ‘bout yo’ paint job stomps in an’ rips you outta that bitch. Well, I’m here, an’ not only do I not give a single fuck about what you done to this point, I’m ‘bout to spill that red all over yo’ fuckin’ work.
Shaw, whether you wanna admit it or not, I’m yo’ worst fuckin’ nightmare. E’rybody else you went over so far in yo’ time here has mo’ or less faded into the background an’ left yo ass to do yo thing. Bull? Ain’t laid a finger on you or spoke yo name in a long fuckin’ while. Ash? The ol’ girl let her fuckin’ self get sent on a rocket to the fuckin’ low midcard in a match with that lippy fuck Bacchus for a title that’s lower on the totem poll than anything she’s had yet. Spencer? Corey Black? Odin? All of ‘em bailed instead of keepin’ aim on yo’ fuckin’ dome. Don’t you just sit an’ wonder sometimes, Shaw, why the fuck these fuckers give up so easy?
I’m sure you’ve thought about it. I’m also equally sure you came to the wrong fuckin’ answer and used the question as an opportunity to bury your head in yo’ lap suckin’ yo own fuckin’ dick. ‘Surely, it’s because they’re all afraid of me!’ Nah, dumbass. It’s cause they ain’t got the fuckin’ stubbornness I fuckin’ do. Shaw, once you stepped in my orbit, once you pissed on my family, once you took aim at my shit, I KNEW it was ALWAYS gon’ be me an’ you in the middle of that fuckin’ ring beatin’ one another to the fuckin’ point of no return. You should jus’ be happy yo’ li’l ol’ mama ain’t gotta be watchin’ what I do to ‘er boy at Execution. She got off easy, Shaw. A hell of a lot easier than you will. You see, what she had, there was a treatment fo’ that shit. She could get chemo, she could get radiation, she could smoke some meddy weed. Granted, that shit ain’t a fuckin’ magic bullet - her tombstone is evidence enough of that shit, ain’t it? - but she had options. Whatchu got for options when you step in the fuckin’ ring with me, Shaw? You ain’t got shit. You gotta do the fuckin’ undoable if you wanna get ridda me. There ain’t no fuckin’ remission on Dandy DiVito. There ain’t no fuckin’ oncologist to do the job. There ain’t shit you can do but hope I get fuckin’ bored wit’ yo ass and move on.
I got here as the fuckin’ Pitbull Terrier of Action Wrestlin’, Shaw, and that shit still stands. That’s my fuckin’ spirit in a fuckin’ nutshell. That’s my heart in one fuckin’ metaphor. I sink my fuckin’ teeth in, and you either gotta fuckin’ hope fo’ an easy end fo’ yo’self OR that I get sick of the fuckin’ taste.
But I ain’t sick of fuckin’ yo’ shit up yet, Carter, and honestly, given the pure fuckin’ hell you put me through, I can’t imagine ever gettin’ sick of returnin’ the fuckin’ favor.
So whether you fuckin’ like it or not, I’ma stick around. I’ma always be the thorn in yo’ fuckin’ side. I’m always gon’ be the man who’s there to make you remember the fuck ups of yo’ past. When this Philidor inevitably falls apart and implodes on you, I’ll be there like Nelson fuckin’ Muntz pointin’ an’ laughin’ at yo shit:
I know you see yo’self as the fuckin’ hero of this story. That you just the faithful employee that’s doin’ his job an’ providing underwhelming felacio to Jay Howie Dumbwit as requested, but this whole FIRST BLOOD shit got me thinkin’ of another fuckin’ role that fits you a li’l mo’ like a fuckin’ glove:
An’ don’t let yo’self be delusional enough to think that I’m sayin’ yo’ ass is fuckin’ Rambo here, Shaw. Hell no. You the fuckin’ Sheriff here. You the mo’fucka who spends his whole ass day tryin’ to keep in they place the fuckin’ people you delusional enough to convince yo’self is just ‘round to challenge yo’ fuckin’ place, to stir shit, and distrupt yo prefered order of things. Me an’ Rambo? We got some fuckin’ vibes in common, Shaw. If you never woulda stuck yo’ fuckin’ nose in The Followin’s shit, you an’ me woulda just existed, and I woulda come for your gold, no mo’ an’ no less.
But then you had to do your fuckin’ best to drive my ass outta town in hopes that I would go be somebody else’s fuckin’ problem. Ain’t that a bitch, Shaw? Not only did I not just waltz on down the fuckin’ road, but now I’m standin’ here ready to not only fuckin’ BEAT you but DESTROY you and e’rything you hard up to preserve. What you wanna protect, I’ll fuckin’ die to annihilate.
Back in Dandy’s house, he called Yaz to sort out the mess Carter was about to wreak on their collective life.After a few rings, she answered.
“Yaz, I’m confident this is just Shaw tryin’ to fuck wit’ me, but I gotta ask you somethin’.”
Yaz was confused. She had no idea what was about to come from Dandy, and she hated the moments like that. Usually, she knew Dandy so well that she could anticipate nearly every move he was about to make and things he was about to say, but right now, she was entirely lost.
“Ok…”
“Is there any possible way the baby is Shaw’s?”
Yaz scoffed and hung up the phone. Dandy winced when he heard the line go silent.
“Shit.”
He tried to call again.
No answer.
He set the phone down for a moment to give Yaz some time to breathe and gather herself. Dandy sat there wondering what Yaz hanging up on him meant. It had to be one of two things: either she was pissed he’d even ask her that or she knew the jig was up. After the years they’d known each other, Dandy was pretty sure it was option one, but until he heard her say it, he knew that little voice in the back of his head would always be screaming doubts Dandy would struggle to ignore.
Dandy’s phone vibrated. Yaz was calling, and he swiftly answered. She tore into him before he could say hello.
“How the fuck could you even ask me that?”
For a brief moment, Dandy felt perversely proud that he knew what pissed Yaz off.
“Yaz, the mo’fucka sent me a letter claimin’ he’s the daddy. He said he was gonna sue to prove paternity.”
“HE’S GONNA WHAT?!”
“Yeah. Exac’ly.”
“So this piece of shit is desperate, huh?”
“I think he’s just tryin’ again to go to the same fuckin’ mindgames well that’s treated his ass so good in the past. He drove a fuckin’ wedge in The Followin’ by doin’ shit like this for 6 fuckin’ months. I think he’s seein’ a path to fuckin’ up our lives and our li’l family, and like the fuckin’ snake he is, he’s takin’ it.”
“Goddamn. I’d almost be impressed if he wasn’t fucking with us!”
“Trust me, gurl, I get it. I’ve got enough fuckin’ experience with this sumbitch now that I can’t help but be a li’l impressed with the depths of his shit. The mechaniations. The fuckin’ resolve. He’s remindin’ me a li’l bit of the unhinged and desperate mo’fucka I turned into when I was carryin’ the strap like he is now.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, shit, he won it in a big spot, he took the strap off the champ that had been walkin’ through e’rybody up to that point, and he’s been surrounding heself wit’ these shithead goons that would walk through fire to ensure his ass stays champ. Granted I only had A-Dick as far as a goon squad goes, but that sumbitch was mo’ than capable of runnin’ wit’ the best of ‘em. Jus’ ask Lissie. She’s still pissin’ an’ moanin’ ‘bout that shit years after the fuckin’ fact.”
“So what are you going to do about the shit he’s trying to pull right now?”
“There’s only one thing to do, Yaz. I gotta beat this mo’fucka so bad he tucks he fuckin’ tail right up inside he asshole and disappears into the fuckin’ shadows for a good while. They ain’t nothin’ somebody like Shaw understands like a punch in the fuckin’ mouth.”
But Sheriff Shaw, if you thought fuckin’ wit’ my family once brought out the fuckin’ hell within me, jus’ you wait until you see what this next fuckin’ shot over the bow will bring. You wanna tell me my fuckin’ kid is yours? And you think you jus’ gon’ walk off into the sunset even if you bloody my ass firs’ like you did on Clash?
OH, BOY, DO YOU HAVE ANOTHER MOTHERFUCKIN’ THING COMIN’, SHERIFF.
From where I’m standin’, I’m seein’ the desperation of a mo’fucka who thinks he might be at the end of his rope. You doin’ the same kinda shit a man on the gallows be doin’ right befo’ they drop the floor. You beggin’ fo’ an out. You tryin’ like hell to blackmail the hangman or bribe the fuckin’ judge or convince the crowd an injustice is bein’ done when at the end of it all, you just gonna be danglin’ from the rope, corpse bloatin’ in the noon-day fuckin’ sun. So between that li’l sneak attack on Clash, this horseshit wit’ my fuckin’ kid, an’ e’ry damn slight against The Followin’ that you was responsible fo’, I’m lookin’ forward to pullin’ the lever on them gallows, Shaw. You ‘bout to get what you paid for, son.
You spent MONTHS writin’ checks yo’ ass couldn’t cash while dodgin’ direct confrontation wit’ me at every fuckin’ turn. You was runnin’ a proxy war that makes you even mo’ straight up fuckin’ evil than Rambo’s Sheriff. You tryin’ ta climb down that ladder to hell an’ find out where the Devil’s got Robert McNamara livin’ these days, like you ain’t learned no lessons from that dumb mo’fucka’s history alterin’ fuck ups in Vietnam. Well when this is all done, Shaw, yo’ ass gonna haveta call me fuckin’ Charlie, ‘cause you either gon’ have to admit the fuckin’ gig is up or you gonna have me rippin’ yo’ fuckin’ heart out over an’ over fo’ fuckin’ years.
That’s what happens when you step into the ring wit’ Dandy DiVito and make it personal. When you come for what’s mine. When you convince yo’self that I’m some trifflin’ motherfucker you can just wave off like a bitch. I might not get what’s mine in the immediate, but Shaw, ask any body who been at war wit’ me how that shit goes in the longview… E’ry damn one a’ them mo’fuckas would tell you the same thing: NEVER - ABSOLUTELY NEVER - go to war wit’ Dandy DiVito.
You a sneaky mo’fucka though, Shaw, I’ll spot you that. Anybody else woulda caved under the mountain of bullshit you heaped on my ass this year. Anybody else woulda just rolled ova an’ died if they lost e’rythin’ that mattered to ‘em ‘cause you couldn’t stay the fuck outta their business. Anybody else woulda… fuck it, you get the idea, Shaw. But I don’t think you really understand what kinda different beast you fuckin’ wit’ here.
I know, I know. You think you got my fuckin’ number. You think this shit is game, set, match when it comes to Carter Shaw an’ Dandy DiVito ‘cause you got a couple of fuckin’ W’s, but you ain’t got shit but those W’s right now. I spent damn near a year on top of the fuckin’ tag division despite you doin’ yo’ best work to interfere in that shit. Where’d that get you relative to me? I got the longest tag title run of all time. You sure scored some points there, huh? Despite the fact that you Philidor fucks were supposed to be preordained as the Trios champs, what happened there? My team punked you bitches out before y’all even got to the fuckin’ finals. Huh… It’s almost like that whole SHAW BEATS DANDY narrative has been bullshit the whole time… But surely that can’t be right, can it? I mean, really, Carter Shaw lying through his teeth?! That...that’s just unimaginable.
Carter, you spin a nice story. You tell a pretty friendly tale for your legacy an’ yo’ run on top, but anyone wit’ eyes an’ the ability to understan’ facts knows you so fulla shit that it’s pouring outta every fuckin’ hole you got.
Dandy rode the elevator up to the penthouse shared by Kidsgrove and Zooey, and when he arrived at the door, Zooey excitedly ushered him in.
“Come in! Come in! How’s life? How’s Yazmine? How’s the baby?!”
Dandy smiled as he worked his way through her barrage of questions.
“As good as it’s been in a while, ready for the pregnancy to be over, and right on track for her due date.”
Zooey gasped.
“HER?! YOU’RE HAVING A LITTLE GIRL?!”
Dandy laughed..
“I meant Yaz’s due date. Sorry to get your hopes up, Z. Yaz decided not to find out, so I’m gonna know when she does.”
Zooey feigned like she was pouting.
“Darn. And here I thought I was getting some exclusive news!”
Dandy and Zooey shared a laugh as she invited Dandy to take a seat in the lounge.
“Iced tea, right?”
“If it ain’t too much trouble.”
“Don’t be silly.”
Zooey disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, and Dandy laid his head back on the chair for a moment of close-eyed rest. In the lead up to Execution, he had been running himself ragged, and this was his first moment to just breathe.
“Here you g…”
Zooey entered the room and immediately stopped talking when she saw Dandy resting, but Dandy snapped to attention anyway.
“Oh man, sorry, Z. Must’ve dozed there.”
Zooey approached and handed Dandy his tea.
“Nothing to be sorry about! I know how prepping for something huge like your match with Carter goes. I’ve seen Sam in this position, well, about a thousand times and never more than when you two were at eachothers’ throats so long ago.”
Dandy smirked.
“Those were the days, huh?”
Zooey sighed as she smiled politely and shook her head.
“Something like that…”
Dandy sipped at his tea and Zooey at a coffee. The pair shared a beat of still silence.
“So... how’s the whole self-improvement thing going?”
“Well, to be honest, some days are better than others.”
“Explain?”
“Uh, yeah, sure. So the past few days have provided a great example actually. Shaw sent me a letter, sent the fucker certified so that he’d know when I got it. He tol’ me he was gonna file a paternity suit fo’ the baby.”
“WHAT?!”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“I just…I… that sounds like… No, no. I can’t say that.”
“Say it, Z. No need fo’ pullin’ punches.”
Zooey bit her lip and furrowed her brow for a beat before speaking.
“I was just thinking it sounds like something you would have done to Sam. You know, back when.”
Dandy paused for a moment before conceding her point with a nod.
“Yeah. That’s fair. I mean, that’s what’s fucked about it all, I guess?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, Shaw and me? We been loosely attached to one another for the better part of a fuckin’ year, an’ e’rytime we tangle, there’s just this fuckin’ energy that oozes outta all this shit. It feels like there’s a world out there where Shaw an’ Dandy coulda lit the whole fuckin’ world on fire, but we’re here in this one where we’re more obsessed with burnin’ each other to the fuckin’ ground.”
“I think that’s probably because you’re not the same person who would have aligned with Carter, don’t you?”
“Honestly, Z, I don’t fuckin’ know. I mean, the son of a bitch has what I want and he’s been riding a wave of bullshit to keep his fuckin’ mits on it. I think that’s a bigger barrier to him and me seein’ eye to eye than the kinda guy I am now. Better or not, I think I’d shake hands wit’ the fuckin’ devil heself if that’s what I needed to do to secure a future fo’ my li’l family. I don’t think that’s bad guy shit, right?”
“Isn’t that exactly what Carter’s done that you’re so upset about?”
Dandy paused in thought.
“Fuck.”
Zooey giggled.
“That kinda perspective is exactly the kind of reason I need to have these talks, Z. You...you just fuckin’ get shit in a way I don’t. That sweetheart shit, man.”
Zooey smiled wide.
“What do you think you might do with that information, Dandy?”
“Well, I’ll certainly stop throwin’ live rounds ‘bout the man’s dead mom for one.”
“DANDY!”
“What?! Sometimes I can’t fuckin’ help myself, and we both know his mama ain’t gon’ do nothin’ ‘bout it no more…”
“DANDY!!! NOOOOO!!!”
Dandy laughed at Zooey’s outburst.
But look, Shaw, I ain’t delusional like you, so I’m smart enough to know that you despite all the bullshit you rely on to keep that strap, at the end of the day, it’s pretty simple: Carter Shaw is… well, as fuckin’ pissed off as I am to say this shit, you’re the fuckin’ champ, and knowin’ that I can feel the fuckin’ bile crawlin’ up the back of my fuckin’ throat don’t make the fact that ain’t nobody been able to pin yo ass and take that strap away any less of a fact.
Whether it was all on you or not, you clearly built yo’self quite the fuckin’ reign as champ, an’ you clearly made them moves that empowered yo ass to stay on top. That shit? I can find respec’ fo’ it. Really. I can. But it’s the rest of who you is, ya li’l fuckin’ prick, that falls on deaf fuckin’ ears fo’ me.
I see shades of old Dandy in the bullshit you pull and the games you play, Shaw, but just like I would beat the ever loving piss outta old Dandy if given the chance, I’ma beat the shit outta you at Execution. Holdin’ a title or not, Shaw, you still the scared li’l kid that don’t know how to live without a support system that holds ‘em up. You replaced mommy with Philidor and the paragon of stability that is Lissie Hope. You latched yo’self to the titty of de Witt to ensure you could stay on top. You ain’t the mo’fucka who won All In as a man no mo’. You a shell of who you was when you earned yo’ shot. Someday, I hope that instead of just bein’ a fuckin’ snake, you’ll be the snake that shed the particular skin that makes you who you is right now. That you might remember who you was before you lowered yourself to playin’ second fiddle to Derrick Vayden an’ Norris fuckin’ Cranley. I hope that eventually, you gonna remember how to be a real boy again so you can cut them ugly fuckin’ strings that the Philidor machine’s got you strung up by. But befo’ any of that can happen, you gotta give enough of a fuck about yo’self to realize that holdin’ that strap ain’t the fuckin’ end all, be all of yo’ fuckin’ existence.
When I had her the first fuckin’ time, I thought that I wouldn’t be nothin’ without her, but I’ll tell you straight up, anything Lissie fuckin’ Hope can take away from somebody either wasn’t that important or they should follow in her pill poppin’ footsteps and then some. Losin’ that belt to that walkin’ Valtrex billboard showed me that the belt don’t make the champ, but the champ makes the belt. An’ I gotta be real wit’ you, Shaw, you makin’ MY BELT look like shit right now.
So all in all, they’s at least three reasons I’m takin’ that bitch back from yo’ ass: 1) I gotta put the fuckin’ shine back on the strap for the good of the goddamn company and end the streak of these fuckin’ inadequate placeholder champions, 2) I gotta take away the thing that you got so hard about that you let it change who the fuck you are, and 3) I gotta make you fucking pay for the crimes you’ve committed against my family be that the DiVito clan itself or The Following.
Death. Taxes. Dandy holds the gold.
There’s a new Sheriff in town, Shaw. Get used to the new fuckin’ way things run in this place, motherfucker.