Post by Robby Bigg Dick on Jan 27, 2022 2:27:48 GMT -5
RBD comes out of a moldy water-stained garage door. He closes it behind him and comes towards the camera but not before picking up a bucket of trash and pouring it into the trash can next to him. He closes the trashcan lid and steps towards the camera.
Let me reintroduce myself, you stupid fucks, my name is Robby Bigg Dick and it ain't some fucking gimmick and it ain't some fucking character. I'm all fucking real and I'm the King of Backyard Deathmatches. I run this shit. I've been harming mother fuckers since I was allowed to walk out the house and that shit won't ever fucking change ya got me? I walk into companies, backyards, underground fight clubs and I fuck people up. Sometimes I do it for money. Sometimes I do it for the love of the sound my knuckles make when they crack against the skull of a dead eye mother fucker looking at me wrong. Sometimes I do it cause I like the way the people standing around me mark out like fucking geeks when I drop their favorite wrestlers head on the ground with my fucking DDT ya got me? Nobody takes a chance on me because look at me, I do things how I like to do them, my fucking way or the highway. I aint no bitch and bow down to some corporate ass bullshit either. Thats not me. Thats not the RBD way ya got me?
So that brings me to this bitch mother fucker who can't even show up to accept my fucking challenge. This cocksucking pussy ass bitch, you mother fucker, you think you're so fucking cool, huh? You're an arrogant pussy bitch. You're scared, thats why. You're so fucking scared of me and I can see it. I can smell it. You're a boat on the water, no gas, no food, and you've been sitting for 30 days and I'm a hungry fucking shark circling your bitch ass just waiting for you to dip your feet in the water. Waiting for you to try something, cause you fuck, I'm about to devour you. I'm going to rip you apart, I'm going to drink your fucking blood and drown your bitch ass and they'll never find your body.
I'm the King of Backyard Deathmatches, you know this. You were at King of the Backyard Deathmatch in 2015 when I won it for the record 11th time. Remember, you shook my hand afterwards, told me all about how I can make it big time, how I can be somebody bigger than I was, how I had "potential" thats the fucking word you said. You said potential at me like I was needing your fucking approval. Thats the thing, man, I thought you were cool as fuck for showing up. I was fucking excited. Not going to lie.. I was a fucking mark bro. A fucking mark. But then you said that shit to me afterwards and ya know the word you forgot? The one fucking word that proved to me you were an arrogant cocksucking fake ass bitch? Congratulations. You didn't say it once. You didn't even get fucking close to saying it, cause you can't move your ego to the fucking side for one night to recognize someone might be better than you in this fucking business.
Deathmatches? Violence? Lights out fights? Bare knuckle brawls? Bro, thats me. I'm the KING. I'm the FUCKING BEST. You're fucking NOTHING, bro and you fucking know it. Know what you are?
A fucking brand. Corey Black is a fucking direct deposit. You're a fucking fake king, bro, you don't have a fucking crown, you have a fucking piece of metal crafted by some fucking company men from Action Wrestling branding you as a fucking star for commercials and cars and fast food and shit but bro, thats fucking fake as fuck. Thats laughable that you walk around here like some sort of fucking badass, bro.
It was bad enough that Graham Baker tried telling everyone he was the fucking king of the deathmatches but that bitch is about king of the dorks thats about it cause he's a fucking giant waste of fucking shit. I'd break Baker, I'd break you, I'm going to break you, and on Sunday at Revolution, I'm going to MURDER you, Corey Black and then what? You're going to be carted out of the ring, up the fucking ramp under all the fucking bright lights, get your big fat paycheck, you're going to get a nice fancy fucking ride in the ambulance to a fucking nice doctor in a sweet fucking hospital and you're stupid little nasty slutty bitch is going to run to your side and your fans are going to weep when they see what I've done to you. You're going to get all of that thanks to your Corey Black BRAND system and I'm going back to the backyards and crushing mother fuckers the next night. I don't stop, Corey, I will never stop, I'll fucking DIE for this shit. I'll die for this, Corey, you won't have a choice to die.. not with me in that barbed wire ring with you.
Grow some balls, find your fucking passion and your fucking heart, but it won't mean you'll beat me. I just want the real Corey Black on Sunday. I want the real one, the fucking dude who would go through glass tables, barbedwire ladders, and jump off balconies and hold nothing back.. the one I looked up to when I was a fucking teenager punching old dudes in the fucking skull for five bucks.. I want THAT Corey Black at Revolution.
I don't want this fucking sad, broken, midcard dork fucking mark brand that you've somehow magically made appear like a fucking shit comedy joke. I'll be looking forward to breaking your body and your spirit on Sunday at Revolution, Corey, and at the end of it, I'll want only one thing.
A congratulations.
But not from you.
RBD turns the camera off.
Let me reintroduce myself, you stupid fucks, my name is Robby Bigg Dick and it ain't some fucking gimmick and it ain't some fucking character. I'm all fucking real and I'm the King of Backyard Deathmatches. I run this shit. I've been harming mother fuckers since I was allowed to walk out the house and that shit won't ever fucking change ya got me? I walk into companies, backyards, underground fight clubs and I fuck people up. Sometimes I do it for money. Sometimes I do it for the love of the sound my knuckles make when they crack against the skull of a dead eye mother fucker looking at me wrong. Sometimes I do it cause I like the way the people standing around me mark out like fucking geeks when I drop their favorite wrestlers head on the ground with my fucking DDT ya got me? Nobody takes a chance on me because look at me, I do things how I like to do them, my fucking way or the highway. I aint no bitch and bow down to some corporate ass bullshit either. Thats not me. Thats not the RBD way ya got me?
So that brings me to this bitch mother fucker who can't even show up to accept my fucking challenge. This cocksucking pussy ass bitch, you mother fucker, you think you're so fucking cool, huh? You're an arrogant pussy bitch. You're scared, thats why. You're so fucking scared of me and I can see it. I can smell it. You're a boat on the water, no gas, no food, and you've been sitting for 30 days and I'm a hungry fucking shark circling your bitch ass just waiting for you to dip your feet in the water. Waiting for you to try something, cause you fuck, I'm about to devour you. I'm going to rip you apart, I'm going to drink your fucking blood and drown your bitch ass and they'll never find your body.
I'm the King of Backyard Deathmatches, you know this. You were at King of the Backyard Deathmatch in 2015 when I won it for the record 11th time. Remember, you shook my hand afterwards, told me all about how I can make it big time, how I can be somebody bigger than I was, how I had "potential" thats the fucking word you said. You said potential at me like I was needing your fucking approval. Thats the thing, man, I thought you were cool as fuck for showing up. I was fucking excited. Not going to lie.. I was a fucking mark bro. A fucking mark. But then you said that shit to me afterwards and ya know the word you forgot? The one fucking word that proved to me you were an arrogant cocksucking fake ass bitch? Congratulations. You didn't say it once. You didn't even get fucking close to saying it, cause you can't move your ego to the fucking side for one night to recognize someone might be better than you in this fucking business.
Deathmatches? Violence? Lights out fights? Bare knuckle brawls? Bro, thats me. I'm the KING. I'm the FUCKING BEST. You're fucking NOTHING, bro and you fucking know it. Know what you are?
A fucking brand. Corey Black is a fucking direct deposit. You're a fucking fake king, bro, you don't have a fucking crown, you have a fucking piece of metal crafted by some fucking company men from Action Wrestling branding you as a fucking star for commercials and cars and fast food and shit but bro, thats fucking fake as fuck. Thats laughable that you walk around here like some sort of fucking badass, bro.
It was bad enough that Graham Baker tried telling everyone he was the fucking king of the deathmatches but that bitch is about king of the dorks thats about it cause he's a fucking giant waste of fucking shit. I'd break Baker, I'd break you, I'm going to break you, and on Sunday at Revolution, I'm going to MURDER you, Corey Black and then what? You're going to be carted out of the ring, up the fucking ramp under all the fucking bright lights, get your big fat paycheck, you're going to get a nice fancy fucking ride in the ambulance to a fucking nice doctor in a sweet fucking hospital and you're stupid little nasty slutty bitch is going to run to your side and your fans are going to weep when they see what I've done to you. You're going to get all of that thanks to your Corey Black BRAND system and I'm going back to the backyards and crushing mother fuckers the next night. I don't stop, Corey, I will never stop, I'll fucking DIE for this shit. I'll die for this, Corey, you won't have a choice to die.. not with me in that barbed wire ring with you.
Grow some balls, find your fucking passion and your fucking heart, but it won't mean you'll beat me. I just want the real Corey Black on Sunday. I want the real one, the fucking dude who would go through glass tables, barbedwire ladders, and jump off balconies and hold nothing back.. the one I looked up to when I was a fucking teenager punching old dudes in the fucking skull for five bucks.. I want THAT Corey Black at Revolution.
I don't want this fucking sad, broken, midcard dork fucking mark brand that you've somehow magically made appear like a fucking shit comedy joke. I'll be looking forward to breaking your body and your spirit on Sunday at Revolution, Corey, and at the end of it, I'll want only one thing.
A congratulations.
But not from you.
From the Deathmatch community that no longer supports you.
Fuck you. Pussy bitch.
Suck my fucking dick.
Fuck you. Pussy bitch.
Suck my fucking dick.
RBD turns the camera off.
