To Norma Bates and Norma Masturbates
Dec 30, 2021 16:05:59 GMT -5
Lissie Hope ♥ and The Frumious Benderstretch like this
Post by Stephen Singh on Dec 30, 2021 16:05:59 GMT -5
I’m afraid I may have given you all the wrong impression.
Romeo Finet, in black track pants and that same luchador mask, sits on the apron of an empty ring in an empty arena.
But I’ve got an opportunity to correct that.
He hops to his feet.
You step in that ring and I’m tenderizing that worn out windsock of a uterus with knees until you wish for the pain of childbirth.
Saddy A, I hear the rumblings of this match’s “BIG implications” but I was chomping at the bit to be stomping on the bitch as soon I saw your godawful name across from mine. I've got the Animus: I’m not happy with the reception I’ve gotten, I’m not happy with the way CruiserHavoc went, but you represent an opportunity to create a little more noise.
Look at your most noteworthy moments here, Addelion. Or maybe don’t since your highlight reel is more depressing than your profanity-punctuated pathetic promos–I’ll just give you the long and short. The sad-sack successes you’ve had here are just a series of not-quite-good-e-fucking-enoughs: LOST the World Title match, NOT in the top five at Havoc, LOST at Evolution 3. Good god, woman, what do you list as the best sex you’ve ever had, that time Robbie Hope ALMOST made you cum?
A smirk spreads across Finet’s face under that mask; he remembers this feeling. It feels good.
You think you’re more than that. You think you’re MORE than what we see right? More than an oversexed, overpushed, overstimulated, too-smug, never-happy, never-quite-successful half-forgotten cumrag that’s just as likely to be tossed in the trash as the laundry?
I see you, Addy, all of you. And not because you’ll show ‘all of you’ to anybody with five bucks and a pulse but because I’ve BEEN you. I’ve drunk, drugged, fuck, fought and cheated my way to the top of the mountain in our industry and it doesn’t fix what’s broken with people like us. I don’t know what does, but I know it isn’t that. And I know it isn’t lying to ourselves and the world about how much “more” we are.
Maybe it’s more mother-daughter time that could rfix the hole in your being that you’re trying to repair by filling the hole in your crotch. You remember your daughter, right? The one you didn’t mention a WORD of when you ranted about how much MORE you are? The one you basically named after how often you fucking see her: NEVER.
He tries to shake an especially buoyant memory of the father he was supposed to be.
Finet turns around and faces the ring, waiting for the promo to end. This lasts a long time–too long. Finally, he spins around quickly.
Oh shit, I almost forgot about Jane Doe. How could I forget someone with such an original moniker/persona/debut promo as Jamie Do. I’m not going to waste much precious pontification on Jill Day. I’ll stay brief, like your career here is going to be:
You’re a wrestler.
Remember that, this time and dispense with the pseudo-intellectual, high-minded bullshittery. Truth, justice and submission might all be constructs out here but inside that ring behind me, MY spot of sacred geometry, they’re realer than whatever voices in your head made you the way you are. Don’t worry, if you can’t get that through your head on your own, I’ll happily put my knees through your head on Monday.
That smirk returns.
AW, I will do whatever is necessary in that ring to win; I will snap joints, I will bash faces, I will eat every ounce of violence you throw at me and keep moving forward. I will do whatever it takes–so long as it’s within the rules. Because I’ve realized that ring is the only sacred place left in this whole damn world. And I’m going to make it mine again.
Monday it starts with Norma Bates and Norma Masturbates. I’ve got the Animus to put one of you two down in the middle of that ring for three and to do it without so much as a handful of tights. I’ve got just what the premiere of CruiserClash needs: a little Finesse.
