Post by Sam Kidsgrove on Oct 22, 2022 18:44:05 GMT -5
Present Day
“You win some you lose some.” Comments Affleck while summoning another round. Kidsgrove sits at the opposite end of the table, trying his best to muster up the enthusiasm to even raise his glass of non-alcoholic peroni.
“Yeah don’t let it beat you down man, you’ll get him next time.” Chirps in Damon, in an equally futile attempt to cheer up Kidsgrove. Who doesn’t even look at them, staring into the nothingness as he contemplates whatever.
“I don’t think he’s listening” says Affleck. This is followed by Kidsgrove standing up, without a word and simply walking out.
“How long’s he been like this?”
“Zooey says a good few days. He came home, she said, couldn’t look her in the eyes, then just disappeared for a couple of days in the middle of the night.” Then he was fine for a day or two and now this.”
“That loss messed him up, huh?”
Earlier that week.
Kidsgrove couldn’t sleep. The same 3 seconds were replaying in his mind over and over and over. He was absolutely livid with himself. He felt that he had let everyone down, let Zooey down, let himself down and worse, let the world down. Worse still, he remembered the smug, self satisfied smirk of the absolute worst fucking piece of trash in both of his industries. His one chance to get rid of that absolute garbage human gone in a flash. The fact he didn’t get the job done ate him up inside. This was the third night of not sleeping.
Softly, Kidsgrove kissed the sleeping Zooey and crept out of the house.
Present Day
Kidsgrove pulls up outside the psychiatrist office, takes a breath and looks up at the window. He musters his courage and holds his head high, putting on a brave face while he marches into the office.
“Excuse me Mr Kidsgrove” says the receptionist as he breezes past her. “The Doctor is in there with someone.”
He ignores the receptionist as he opens the door - much to the alarm of the Doctor and her patient. Kidsgrove looks at the patient, a rather nerdy looking middle manager type who must have been there to complain about some sort of shit sex life. He glares at him.
“You, out. Now.” He barks, pointing to the door. The man looks at him in fear, looks at the Doctor who simply nods, and then runs out of there as quickly as possible. The Doctor rounds on Kidsgrove as soon as the man leaves the room, slamming the door shut as she does.
“What is the meaning of this?” She demands.
“Your psychiatry, it’s full of shit. I lost that match.” He spits, angrily.
“And what’s that got to do with me?” She says, with force. “I just give you..”
“You give me shit! I didn’t beat him, I came to you in the hope you could get me over the line, give me that extra 1% but you failed me!”
“I failed you? Or did you fail yourself? If you want to sit down we can discuss this!”
"What’s there to discuss? My career is over! That was my one and only chance and you didn’t help me!”
“Well I’m sorry you feel that way” she replies, more calmly as she senses he needs help rather than hostility. “But all is not lost, I saw you were almost there and you have another chance soon right?”
Kidsgrove sits, trying hard not to break down.
“I couldn’t sleep, I haven’t slept for days. You know what I did when it got too much? The middle of the night I left my house, went for a drive. Tried to clear my head.”
“Yeah that’s good, it’s.” Kidsgrove held his hand up to stop her.
“Then I paid a homeless guy to fight me.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah I couldn’t go through with it, so I let him kick the shit out of me with no defence instead. I could have helped him, instead I just gave him money to clear his rage for 10 minutes. After that I went to a bridge.”
“You weren’t suicidal were you?”
“No, but I figured someone might have been and I could, y’know stop them or something.”
“And was there?”
“No, unfortunately. So then I went to one of those places that do the whole “you can pay to smash up a room with a hammer” you know?”
“OK?”
“So yeah I spent pretty much a whole day in there bashing the shit out of a kitchen with a sledgehammer. Destroyed the whole fucking place. Was told that was, and I quote “One of the angriest demonstrations of destruction they’ve seen.” Or whatever.”
“How’d that make you feel?”
“Pretty great until another chipped in with an “apart from you getting your ass beat by Angelo in AW and Hollywood.” Then I knocked the little fucker out.”
The Doctor holds her head down to process all of this.
“Please tell me that’s where it ended?”
“Yeah after that I was pretty happy, y’know so I went home. Then a couple days later I got the call from AW.
I’m not getting a rematch, here’s fucking Turmoil instead. Oh and you got a warmup match against Regan Voorhees.
I mean fuck that. If my name was Dandy Divito or Corey Black I’d get a rematch within a fuckin’ week against that prick. With some stipulation of my choosing at a show in my honour or some shit. I’m fed up of this bullshit.
So now I have to fight through the contenders again, now I have to go and win fuckin’ turmoil just to get the shot at redemption to beat the living piss out of that walking fraud who calls himself a world champion. The whole thing is a joke.
And I got a prove yourself match, against Regan. Of all the people they think I should prove myself against it’s a fuckin drama queen vegan butcher who watches too many halloween movies and is only really relevant when October comes around and they need a poster child for desparate blonde axe murderers or some shit.”
"I’m, sure that’s not the case, Ms Vorhees is probably very relevant.”
“She’s not been relevant since her days in Cruiserclash Doc. Ever since she got called up to Clash she’s been drifting in the wind. The brightest spark she ever had is signing up to the Affluenza tag team where she shares in Jill Park’s spotlight.
And no, I’m not going to go on a rant about how she’s in the shadow of Jill and all that shit, she’s her own grown ass woman, she can stand by whoever she wants. If she enjoys being in a tag team with someone who’s whole thing is collecting singles belts until she’s one big fucking belt herself, then that’s fine. So many people tell her she should ditch the team or be aware because Jill will turn on her and all that shit.
That’s got nothing to do with me or you though and if she’s happy, she’s happy. I actually respect that somewhat, I actually know what she’s going through, time after time after time I get people coming up to me, telling me I should change how I do things, or I should show more of my bad side, hell I once got told to ditch Zooey so I could be more marketable as a badass - literally someone random off the street told me this shit by the way.
So yeah, I’m not gonna sit here and say she should do whatever the hell I want because it doesn’t fit my world view or whatever.
I am going to sit here though and ask just why the fuck this match has been made. What do I need to prove exactly? Especially against someone who hasn’t really done anything on Clash? I’m just supposed to face her in a one off match because we’re both in Turmoil? I’m supposed to debase myself by beating up a woman who’s so far not in my league it’s almost offensive?
I should be sitting right here right now with a shit eating grin on my face as the World Champion, not facing a horror movie trope in legally blonde form for scraps off the table in a mid card match.
But I guess you have to play the cards how they lie, I failed once - I’m never going to fail again. Next time I face that shit eating little fuck I’m ending his career once and for all.
Until then, I guess I’m going to concentrate on winning the Turmoil tournament. It seems that’s the only way I’ll get another shot again so this is how it’s going down this way.
Anyone who stands in my way from now until I get my hands on that horrid little fucker is going to get absolutely annihilated. Whether it’s Vorhees, whether it’s Jill Park, put whoever you want in my way and I’m going to treat them all with no respect and I will have absolutely no regrets in taking them out.
Vorhees likes her horror slasher movies, she likes being sadistic, she prides herself on going to the extremes and letting the blood of her victims splatter across the mat like a plastic sheeting in a slasher film. She loves that shit more than she loves life itself. But she’s used to dishing that out, she’s used to being the guy with the chainsaw, she’s used to being the woman behind the mask and being the stalker. She gets herself off on it and looks at everyone like they are her prey and she’s going to be the one to rip them apart limb from limb.
Problem is this only works when the prey is only slightly more intelligent than the average lamb for slaughter. She’s gonna face me, I’m not exactly going to be one of the idiots who dies first in the movie, I’m the goddamn star who eventually kills the villain. I’m the one who survives till the end and feeds the bad guy into whatever convoluted non death scenario is dreamt up by the writers.
I am the face of the franchise.
I’m the one they bring back to take out any copycat murderers in the sequels. I’m the one they bring back 30 years later to do a rehash or random reboot of the franchise. I’m the survivor. You can throw anything at me and I’ll bounce back. Why? Because I have to.
Regan? She’s the bad guy when it’s on the 5th incarnation and the movie keeps bringing the same villain back but as a copycat. She’s basically the new killer in the new scream flick. Sure the mask looks the same, sure she looks the part but in reality she’s just a rip off of a rip off of a copycat. She’s a quintessential bad guy for the modern day audience.
That is shallow, vacuous and moronic. Pitched for the PG audience so parents can drag their kids off to see a slasher flick for some unknown reason.
But that’s what she is. She’s someone who’s there for an unknown reason. Someone who wants to be one of the big boys, wants to be someone who fights toe to toe with some of the biggest names in the business. Be considered one of the best, without equal, without peer.
Yet she’s not even on a level with her own name from Cruiserclash. She’s 6 sequels down the line and her big boss villain is now a nerdy pasty white boy called Bob who’s link to the Original is tenuous at best.
Scratch that, she’s not even the same genre any more, she’s a parody. She’s basically one of those films starring the Wayan brothers who just mock the horror genre. You take her about as seriously as you take the stoned mask guy shouting wassup down the phone in Scary Movie.
But me? Even though I’m at my lowest right now I’m still Sam Kidsgrove.. Yes I’m at Rock bottom and it hurts. Yes I’ve never felt so low and never felt so much like I betrayed everyone after failing to beat that clown, but I’m an all time classic. I’m the Godfather, I’m Lord of the Rings, I’m a franchise that can never fail. I’m timeless. I will bounce back, I always do.
Vorhees needs to remember when I am hurting, I’m dangerous. Like a wild animal. I feel cornered right now and I want to hurt someone or something. I would much rather that be Angelo but I’ll take whoever they put in front of me. So in happenstance, that happens to be Vorhees.
So I’m sorry doc. I’m going to hurt someone this weekend. If you get interviewed by the police please tell them it wasn’t personal. It was necessary, I have to put out a statement for Turmoil. I have to put Angelo on notice and, well it’s what she would have wanted anyway.
And then, I’m going to go on a tear through every single fucker it takes before I bitch slap that smirk off that fuckstick’s face and take the World title.”
Kidsgrove stands up and glares at the doc with a steely gaze of intent.
“Thanks Doc, this has been a useful session. I trust you’ll be taking your usual fee out of my account?”
He strides, purposefully out of the room without even waiting for an answer, past a rather annoyed looking receptionist and gets back into his car.
He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before picking up his phone. He dials Zooey, who picks up almost immediately.
“Just got your messages, I’m sorry.
I guess we have a lot to talk about.Tell Matt and Ben I’m fine. I’ll be home soon, I just gotta take care of a bit of business.”
He disconnects and drives away.
Some time later.
James, a war veteran from the Gulf war, sleeps in his cardboard bed, rain pouring down on his makeshift shelter. He’s woken up by a gentle shaking, after a few moments of blurriness he sees Sam Kidsgrove kneeling in front of him. Immediately he shuttles backwards.
“You again? I didn't want any trouble and I spent the money. I…”
Kidsgrove shakes his head, smiling warmly. He holds out his hand.
“My friend, I am sorry for the other day. Please, come with me - let’s get you into some dry clothes and get you some hot food. Then you can tell me all about yourself and see if we can’t get you a roof over your head.”
“That’s…Kind of you sir, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Kidsgrove, Sam Kidsgrove.” Sam replies. “And you are?”
“Sergeant James Moran, sir.”
“Well Sergeant James Moran, pleased to meet you. My car isn’t far from here. Do you like British food?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had any.”
“Well, today’s a day of firsts.”
“You win some you lose some.” Comments Affleck while summoning another round. Kidsgrove sits at the opposite end of the table, trying his best to muster up the enthusiasm to even raise his glass of non-alcoholic peroni.
“Yeah don’t let it beat you down man, you’ll get him next time.” Chirps in Damon, in an equally futile attempt to cheer up Kidsgrove. Who doesn’t even look at them, staring into the nothingness as he contemplates whatever.
“I don’t think he’s listening” says Affleck. This is followed by Kidsgrove standing up, without a word and simply walking out.
“How long’s he been like this?”
“Zooey says a good few days. He came home, she said, couldn’t look her in the eyes, then just disappeared for a couple of days in the middle of the night.” Then he was fine for a day or two and now this.”
“That loss messed him up, huh?”
Earlier that week.
Kidsgrove couldn’t sleep. The same 3 seconds were replaying in his mind over and over and over. He was absolutely livid with himself. He felt that he had let everyone down, let Zooey down, let himself down and worse, let the world down. Worse still, he remembered the smug, self satisfied smirk of the absolute worst fucking piece of trash in both of his industries. His one chance to get rid of that absolute garbage human gone in a flash. The fact he didn’t get the job done ate him up inside. This was the third night of not sleeping.
Softly, Kidsgrove kissed the sleeping Zooey and crept out of the house.
Present Day
Kidsgrove pulls up outside the psychiatrist office, takes a breath and looks up at the window. He musters his courage and holds his head high, putting on a brave face while he marches into the office.
“Excuse me Mr Kidsgrove” says the receptionist as he breezes past her. “The Doctor is in there with someone.”
He ignores the receptionist as he opens the door - much to the alarm of the Doctor and her patient. Kidsgrove looks at the patient, a rather nerdy looking middle manager type who must have been there to complain about some sort of shit sex life. He glares at him.
“You, out. Now.” He barks, pointing to the door. The man looks at him in fear, looks at the Doctor who simply nods, and then runs out of there as quickly as possible. The Doctor rounds on Kidsgrove as soon as the man leaves the room, slamming the door shut as she does.
“What is the meaning of this?” She demands.
“Your psychiatry, it’s full of shit. I lost that match.” He spits, angrily.
“And what’s that got to do with me?” She says, with force. “I just give you..”
“You give me shit! I didn’t beat him, I came to you in the hope you could get me over the line, give me that extra 1% but you failed me!”
“I failed you? Or did you fail yourself? If you want to sit down we can discuss this!”
"What’s there to discuss? My career is over! That was my one and only chance and you didn’t help me!”
“Well I’m sorry you feel that way” she replies, more calmly as she senses he needs help rather than hostility. “But all is not lost, I saw you were almost there and you have another chance soon right?”
Kidsgrove sits, trying hard not to break down.
“I couldn’t sleep, I haven’t slept for days. You know what I did when it got too much? The middle of the night I left my house, went for a drive. Tried to clear my head.”
“Yeah that’s good, it’s.” Kidsgrove held his hand up to stop her.
“Then I paid a homeless guy to fight me.”
“Oh, that’s terrible.”
“Yeah I couldn’t go through with it, so I let him kick the shit out of me with no defence instead. I could have helped him, instead I just gave him money to clear his rage for 10 minutes. After that I went to a bridge.”
“You weren’t suicidal were you?”
“No, but I figured someone might have been and I could, y’know stop them or something.”
“And was there?”
“No, unfortunately. So then I went to one of those places that do the whole “you can pay to smash up a room with a hammer” you know?”
“OK?”
“So yeah I spent pretty much a whole day in there bashing the shit out of a kitchen with a sledgehammer. Destroyed the whole fucking place. Was told that was, and I quote “One of the angriest demonstrations of destruction they’ve seen.” Or whatever.”
“How’d that make you feel?”
“Pretty great until another chipped in with an “apart from you getting your ass beat by Angelo in AW and Hollywood.” Then I knocked the little fucker out.”
The Doctor holds her head down to process all of this.
“Please tell me that’s where it ended?”
“Yeah after that I was pretty happy, y’know so I went home. Then a couple days later I got the call from AW.
I’m not getting a rematch, here’s fucking Turmoil instead. Oh and you got a warmup match against Regan Voorhees.
I mean fuck that. If my name was Dandy Divito or Corey Black I’d get a rematch within a fuckin’ week against that prick. With some stipulation of my choosing at a show in my honour or some shit. I’m fed up of this bullshit.
So now I have to fight through the contenders again, now I have to go and win fuckin’ turmoil just to get the shot at redemption to beat the living piss out of that walking fraud who calls himself a world champion. The whole thing is a joke.
And I got a prove yourself match, against Regan. Of all the people they think I should prove myself against it’s a fuckin drama queen vegan butcher who watches too many halloween movies and is only really relevant when October comes around and they need a poster child for desparate blonde axe murderers or some shit.”
"I’m, sure that’s not the case, Ms Vorhees is probably very relevant.”
“She’s not been relevant since her days in Cruiserclash Doc. Ever since she got called up to Clash she’s been drifting in the wind. The brightest spark she ever had is signing up to the Affluenza tag team where she shares in Jill Park’s spotlight.
And no, I’m not going to go on a rant about how she’s in the shadow of Jill and all that shit, she’s her own grown ass woman, she can stand by whoever she wants. If she enjoys being in a tag team with someone who’s whole thing is collecting singles belts until she’s one big fucking belt herself, then that’s fine. So many people tell her she should ditch the team or be aware because Jill will turn on her and all that shit.
That’s got nothing to do with me or you though and if she’s happy, she’s happy. I actually respect that somewhat, I actually know what she’s going through, time after time after time I get people coming up to me, telling me I should change how I do things, or I should show more of my bad side, hell I once got told to ditch Zooey so I could be more marketable as a badass - literally someone random off the street told me this shit by the way.
So yeah, I’m not gonna sit here and say she should do whatever the hell I want because it doesn’t fit my world view or whatever.
I am going to sit here though and ask just why the fuck this match has been made. What do I need to prove exactly? Especially against someone who hasn’t really done anything on Clash? I’m just supposed to face her in a one off match because we’re both in Turmoil? I’m supposed to debase myself by beating up a woman who’s so far not in my league it’s almost offensive?
I should be sitting right here right now with a shit eating grin on my face as the World Champion, not facing a horror movie trope in legally blonde form for scraps off the table in a mid card match.
But I guess you have to play the cards how they lie, I failed once - I’m never going to fail again. Next time I face that shit eating little fuck I’m ending his career once and for all.
Until then, I guess I’m going to concentrate on winning the Turmoil tournament. It seems that’s the only way I’ll get another shot again so this is how it’s going down this way.
Anyone who stands in my way from now until I get my hands on that horrid little fucker is going to get absolutely annihilated. Whether it’s Vorhees, whether it’s Jill Park, put whoever you want in my way and I’m going to treat them all with no respect and I will have absolutely no regrets in taking them out.
Vorhees likes her horror slasher movies, she likes being sadistic, she prides herself on going to the extremes and letting the blood of her victims splatter across the mat like a plastic sheeting in a slasher film. She loves that shit more than she loves life itself. But she’s used to dishing that out, she’s used to being the guy with the chainsaw, she’s used to being the woman behind the mask and being the stalker. She gets herself off on it and looks at everyone like they are her prey and she’s going to be the one to rip them apart limb from limb.
Problem is this only works when the prey is only slightly more intelligent than the average lamb for slaughter. She’s gonna face me, I’m not exactly going to be one of the idiots who dies first in the movie, I’m the goddamn star who eventually kills the villain. I’m the one who survives till the end and feeds the bad guy into whatever convoluted non death scenario is dreamt up by the writers.
I am the face of the franchise.
I’m the one they bring back to take out any copycat murderers in the sequels. I’m the one they bring back 30 years later to do a rehash or random reboot of the franchise. I’m the survivor. You can throw anything at me and I’ll bounce back. Why? Because I have to.
Regan? She’s the bad guy when it’s on the 5th incarnation and the movie keeps bringing the same villain back but as a copycat. She’s basically the new killer in the new scream flick. Sure the mask looks the same, sure she looks the part but in reality she’s just a rip off of a rip off of a copycat. She’s a quintessential bad guy for the modern day audience.
That is shallow, vacuous and moronic. Pitched for the PG audience so parents can drag their kids off to see a slasher flick for some unknown reason.
But that’s what she is. She’s someone who’s there for an unknown reason. Someone who wants to be one of the big boys, wants to be someone who fights toe to toe with some of the biggest names in the business. Be considered one of the best, without equal, without peer.
Yet she’s not even on a level with her own name from Cruiserclash. She’s 6 sequels down the line and her big boss villain is now a nerdy pasty white boy called Bob who’s link to the Original is tenuous at best.
Scratch that, she’s not even the same genre any more, she’s a parody. She’s basically one of those films starring the Wayan brothers who just mock the horror genre. You take her about as seriously as you take the stoned mask guy shouting wassup down the phone in Scary Movie.
But me? Even though I’m at my lowest right now I’m still Sam Kidsgrove.. Yes I’m at Rock bottom and it hurts. Yes I’ve never felt so low and never felt so much like I betrayed everyone after failing to beat that clown, but I’m an all time classic. I’m the Godfather, I’m Lord of the Rings, I’m a franchise that can never fail. I’m timeless. I will bounce back, I always do.
Vorhees needs to remember when I am hurting, I’m dangerous. Like a wild animal. I feel cornered right now and I want to hurt someone or something. I would much rather that be Angelo but I’ll take whoever they put in front of me. So in happenstance, that happens to be Vorhees.
So I’m sorry doc. I’m going to hurt someone this weekend. If you get interviewed by the police please tell them it wasn’t personal. It was necessary, I have to put out a statement for Turmoil. I have to put Angelo on notice and, well it’s what she would have wanted anyway.
And then, I’m going to go on a tear through every single fucker it takes before I bitch slap that smirk off that fuckstick’s face and take the World title.”
Kidsgrove stands up and glares at the doc with a steely gaze of intent.
“Thanks Doc, this has been a useful session. I trust you’ll be taking your usual fee out of my account?”
He strides, purposefully out of the room without even waiting for an answer, past a rather annoyed looking receptionist and gets back into his car.
He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before picking up his phone. He dials Zooey, who picks up almost immediately.
“Just got your messages, I’m sorry.
I guess we have a lot to talk about.Tell Matt and Ben I’m fine. I’ll be home soon, I just gotta take care of a bit of business.”
He disconnects and drives away.
Some time later.
James, a war veteran from the Gulf war, sleeps in his cardboard bed, rain pouring down on his makeshift shelter. He’s woken up by a gentle shaking, after a few moments of blurriness he sees Sam Kidsgrove kneeling in front of him. Immediately he shuttles backwards.
“You again? I didn't want any trouble and I spent the money. I…”
Kidsgrove shakes his head, smiling warmly. He holds out his hand.
“My friend, I am sorry for the other day. Please, come with me - let’s get you into some dry clothes and get you some hot food. Then you can tell me all about yourself and see if we can’t get you a roof over your head.”
“That’s…Kind of you sir, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Kidsgrove, Sam Kidsgrove.” Sam replies. “And you are?”
“Sergeant James Moran, sir.”
“Well Sergeant James Moran, pleased to meet you. My car isn’t far from here. Do you like British food?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever had any.”
“Well, today’s a day of firsts.”
