Post by Holden Ross on Oct 16, 2022 10:56:48 GMT -5
Holden is shown sitting on a stool in the center of a wrestling ring in a pair of baggy boardshorts, a tank-top made from a Born Scum brand “Coffin Skull” t-shirt (available at BornScum.com while supplies last!) and a pair of all black Chuck’s. A banner hangs in the background reading “Champions Advantage Performance Center” in gold lettering over a field of red. One could assume correctly that he is in said performance center where he is a trainer/coach.
His head hangs down when the shot opens and it slowly rises up so her can look at the camera. A smirk curls his lips. He looks like his Father, then, and he stretches, making joints pop up and down his body. He head first cranks to the right, then the left, issuing another handful of “pops” before he lets out a satisfied sigh. A long pull from an electric weed pen completes the scene as he is now comfortable and ready to address the fucktards he is facing.
”Last week I was blessed to be in the same ring with Dionysis and fighting for the Television Championship….. Or the company would have you believe, anyway. Fighting for a belt I neither want nor asked for. But I get it, this is a business and, when I’m in the ring, eyeballs are on screens hoping to see someone get fucked up. I was once dubbed the ’Human Wrecking Ball’ and it is a fitting name; I fuck up and wreck anyone or thing in front of me, without a care in the World. Friend? Foe? You’re all eligible for what I dish out. And look who I’m dishing it to this week…”
He scoffs. ”A failed basketball star and a fighter who’s career was just as glorious as the aforementioned basketball ’Star.’ Spend good money on a washed-up never was hoping he would pop the ratings in whatever shithole city he flopped in. It’s fuckin sad, really. And this week, you’re trotting his beanpole ass out there to get fuckin merked…. Which is probably why you shoe horned Mister Savage into this match; hoping he would take some of that glaring stench away from Thon. When I’m finished with Basketball Jones, he is going to take his fuckin ball and go on home, never to be seen from again.
While I’m on the subject of Mister Savage…. I wanted to face you, so badly, off of what little hype you had. You’re supposed to be a big, bad fighter much like I claim to be… And then I watched you in the ring. You’re wrestlings equivalent to a Three Card Montey dealer, bait-and-switch; there’s some talent there but nothing real. Maybe once upon a time, perhaps, but now you’re that old dog that barely gets off the porch to bark at the mailman when, once upon a time, you tore him a new ass.”
He takes a few more puffs from his pen before continuing. ”Some assholes around here seem to think that, if you’re not competing for a belt you’re going nowhere and will remain fodder for the other sharks lurking on the roster. Thing is, and I have said this since I first arrived here, I don’t give two shits about winning belts. If I do, I do, but I fight for blood.
This week I will leave with the blood of both of these two men on my hands. Once more, I will walk away from that ring knowing my opponent is going to need stitches, and MRI, or maybe a transfusion. That’s all I need to make me happy. Well, that and Serenity. Every Beast has his Beauty….”
As the scene fades out Holden leans back in the chair, folding his hand behind his head and stretching his legs out before crossing his feet at the ankles. A satisfied grin on his lips is the last we see of him before all is black.
