Post by Addy A on Aug 25, 2022 19:13:14 GMT -5
I love three things in my life. One of them is dead, and if I ever hear anyone utter his name in impure tones - I will rip their fucking tongue from their fucking mouth. One is my daughter, who I’m destined to disappoint forever while I breathe. I ain't a good mother by any conventional sense, but I do what I know to do. The third is this: The fight. The blood. The broken bones. All of it. I fucking love it. So, the question I pose is why? Why do you do this, Alexandria? Why are you here, Marcus? I don’t need to be here. I don’t need the paycheck - I make Bella Thorne money off my OnlyFans account. So why am I here, why do I do this? I told you. I want this. I love this shit. I was getting my screaming arse pulled out of a cut in my mother’s gut the year you were making your debut, Alex. At the same age you made your debut, I was pushing a living, breathing watermelon out of my cunt. You’ve been doing this as long as I have been alive. I wasn’t born into this - I don't have a legacy. I don’t have the heritage. But I was made for this. I was made to be a champion in this industry. I’m one half of the greatest tag team in the industry. But, I don’t see this title as a stepping stone. Alexandra, you’ve already cast aspersions that you’re going to move on to bigger and better things - like you’re better than me. Like you’re bigger than a championship in Action Wrestling. That’s just fucking disrespectful. You are NOT better than me. You are NOT bigger than the Television Title. You are NOT more than Action Wrestling. If I was to surmise why you’re here, Alex. I’d propose that you only do this because you’re too weak-minded and too fucking gutless to explore the limits of your capabilities. It’s a failure mentality. If I had the same fucking mentality as you, I would be sitting on a broken couch in a country on the otherside of the equator collecting welfare money. But I’m not like you, Alex. I’m better than you. I don’t rest on my laurels I don’t rely on what God gives me. I don’t shrug when things don’t go my way. I’m not weak like that. I’m not weak like you. I went to Hell and fought a dead man to get back on top. Alexandria, I never quit. I never see myself above. Simply. I take what’s mine. And Marcus, you have what's mine. You came through your little match with the Hellion last week as a surprise new champion thanks to the little distraction from Alexandra’s little stalker - well played - taking advantage of the situation in front of you. It’s the same shit I would pull, but it’s an out of the frying pan into the fire situation for you - you’ve become the Television Champion, but now you’re facing me for the title. Your bluster was enough against Niobe, and your insane braying was enough to squeak by Calaway. You’ll need more than piss and vinegar to keep that belt around your waist, especially when I’m gunning for it. I don’t care for the fairy tales you tend to weave, the mediocre stories you tell in an effort to paint yourself as a tier above your opponent. It’s nothing more than your subconscious telling you that you matter more than you really do. It’s the ego. How can you simply just be. It’s because you are, while our mutual opponent was plucked from her dead zone and indoctrinated into her legacy. You were - you are different. You came here to put a roof over your head, you came here to escape your consequences. You’re ego told you mattered more than the backyards and carnivals you were toiling in. Your ego told you that you mattered more than what you were doing. But the ego is fragile, Marcus. Your ego will be broken. Like an egg shattering on the pavement, all the King’s horses and all the King’s men will not put you back together again. Can you handle that? On the surface I would advocate that you can’t, that you won’t. My gut would say that you’ll crumble like a sand castle washed away by the incoming tide. I could be wrong - but that would just give me another opportunity to bury you underfoot. You’re a tough guy - your words more than your actions - say so. From my experience ‘tough guys’ aren’t so tough when put under pressure. At Uprising, I will put you under more pressure than you’ve experienced before - that includes when you were scrounging in back alley dumpsters for your next meal and scrapping with bums the remnants of the last fucking cigarette. Then we’ll see if you’ve really the heart to be here. At the risk of one too many cliches, it’s the size of the fight, not the size of the dog. And I know I’ve got more fight than you and your knock-off GI Joe body, parading as a ten cent man in a hundred dollar suit. Nothing. Through happenstance and luck, you’ve come to be wearing exactly what I want. Through violence and desire, I will be taking it from you - no matter who else tries to get in the way. At Uprising you’ll have no ascension, just as Alex will bring forth no apocalypse. Only one can walk out with the Television Title. It will be me. This title is more than a name on a page. It represents the ultimate survivalist, the iron(wo)man of Action Wrestling. Wrapping this strap around my waist is about more than holding my pants up. That is the fact you both can’t grasp. This represents the war. Week in, week out. I love this shit. |
