Post by Addy A on Dec 9, 2022 16:33:35 GMT -5
“Here we go again.”
“It’s the nature of the beast that we’ve been destined to tangle in this best of seven series, Bruce. Can’t say I fucking like have to lock up with you and defeat you time and time and time and time again. That’s the way the cards were laid out in front of me so that’s what I’m going to fucking do.”
“Round one was my first victory last week on Clash, and round two will be my victory on Clash this week - I am completely fucking certain of that, Bruce. I took a good long gander at what you could throw down when it comes to a fight. I was not impressed, not in the slightest. Of everyone that has attempted to lay claim to my Television title since the day that I won it - unfortunately, with your positioning as my number one contender, the quality of the challenger has dropped to the sewer.”
“That’s the easy way to go, isn’t it - break down the insults to the cheapest and nastiest ways - allow the refuse of society, those lowest common denominators to really come to understand the joke. Give them a laugh, right, Bruce? It’s the way you’ve gone and the way that you’ll undoubtedly go from now until the end of time, you’ll pick the low hanging fruit - you’ll find a way to accomplish things all while putting as minimal effort as possible. It’s commendable - they do say if you want to find the quickest way to complete a task, give it to the laziest person. Well, son, you churn out insults quicker than Danish milkmaids churn butter - they’re not particularly well thought nor do they contain depth - but fuck they fly!”
“Thinner skinned people than me, might actually get upset with the plethora of puss that drips from your lips, but me, I’ll let it roll. I’ve heard worse and I’ve said worse again. So I’ll frolic in the grass like a foal while you work your spit into a rabid lather in frustration trying to find a way to break me down mentally before we step foot into the ring with each other for the second time. I’ll let you think you’ve engaged in games of mental warfare and I’ll let you think you’ve got a chance to violently beat me. And then, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Again.”
“It’s the nature of the beast that we’ve been destined to tangle in this best of seven series, Bruce. Can’t say I fucking like have to lock up with you and defeat you time and time and time and time again. That’s the way the cards were laid out in front of me so that’s what I’m going to fucking do.”
“Round one was my first victory last week on Clash, and round two will be my victory on Clash this week - I am completely fucking certain of that, Bruce. I took a good long gander at what you could throw down when it comes to a fight. I was not impressed, not in the slightest. Of everyone that has attempted to lay claim to my Television title since the day that I won it - unfortunately, with your positioning as my number one contender, the quality of the challenger has dropped to the sewer.”
“That’s the easy way to go, isn’t it - break down the insults to the cheapest and nastiest ways - allow the refuse of society, those lowest common denominators to really come to understand the joke. Give them a laugh, right, Bruce? It’s the way you’ve gone and the way that you’ll undoubtedly go from now until the end of time, you’ll pick the low hanging fruit - you’ll find a way to accomplish things all while putting as minimal effort as possible. It’s commendable - they do say if you want to find the quickest way to complete a task, give it to the laziest person. Well, son, you churn out insults quicker than Danish milkmaids churn butter - they’re not particularly well thought nor do they contain depth - but fuck they fly!”
“Thinner skinned people than me, might actually get upset with the plethora of puss that drips from your lips, but me, I’ll let it roll. I’ve heard worse and I’ve said worse again. So I’ll frolic in the grass like a foal while you work your spit into a rabid lather in frustration trying to find a way to break me down mentally before we step foot into the ring with each other for the second time. I’ll let you think you’ve engaged in games of mental warfare and I’ll let you think you’ve got a chance to violently beat me. And then, I’ll kick your ass.”
“Again.”
“Some mother you are.” Gloria spat acid at Adelaide.
The Ainsworth clan were discussing the kidnap attempt of Neveah, just like week. Adelaide was mostly concerned with her daughter’s wellbeing, yet Gloria was taking the opportunity to ridicule her daughter’s raising of her daughter.
“Nothing happened, Nanna.” Neveah rose to the defence of her mother, with a strength of voice that hid her real age.
“That’s because Nanna taught you well.”
Adelaide struggles to contain her scoffing guffaw, resulting in an extraordinary raspberry sound blowing out between her lips. The noise causes her daughter to start giggling and her mother to stare daggers through her soul.
“When the powers that be see how comfortably I handle you this time around are they going to be disappointed with the outcome? I’d suggest not, because when we compare pages in our books - the reality is I’m the one making bank. You’ve just been lucky enough to hitch your wagon to my horse for a money making exercise. But, when we come down the fourth match in this series - all the scuttlebutt on the street is going to talk about the sweep. And pushing you out the door with the bristles of the broom is a fitting way to rid you from the canvas.”
“And there I go embracing the Cheeks insult etiquette. You know what? Sometimes you just got to get dirty to take the trash that’s piling up in front of you.”
“I get you’re not going to go away anytime - unfortunately, but like the previous leeches of Tatianna and Niobe. I found a way to cast them aside and I will do the same to you, Bruce. You’ve been given your chance after chance in the form of this best of seven. At the end of match four, you will not be not coming back for more. This series is a mismatch of oh-seven NBA finals proportions.”
“That’s the thing isn’t it? You’re not really concerned about getting swept - mentally you’ve already resigned yourself to being treated like Frank Alexander while I dance merrily all while Singin’ in the Rain.”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
“And there I go embracing the Cheeks insult etiquette. You know what? Sometimes you just got to get dirty to take the trash that’s piling up in front of you.”
“I get you’re not going to go away anytime - unfortunately, but like the previous leeches of Tatianna and Niobe. I found a way to cast them aside and I will do the same to you, Bruce. You’ve been given your chance after chance in the form of this best of seven. At the end of match four, you will not be not coming back for more. This series is a mismatch of oh-seven NBA finals proportions.”
“That’s the thing isn’t it? You’re not really concerned about getting swept - mentally you’ve already resigned yourself to being treated like Frank Alexander while I dance merrily all while Singin’ in the Rain.”
“It’s what I’m good at.”
The Stranger sits on the sand of Venice Beach. His last plan to change Adelaide Ainsworth’s mind hadn’t gone exactly as he’d envisioned. There was something about the Ainsworth family that dictated the regular in the box thinking was never going to work with them. Tonight was his time to gather his thoughts and lick his wounds. So he just sat on the sand under neon polluted midnight sky and watched the parades of people walk past him step by step.
He was going to get her to do his bidding.
He just didn’t know how yet.
“Round and round.”
“We’ll keep spinning our wheels, talking shit and getting hit. It’s inevitable right now. But when the wheels finally do fall off your little gravy train of consecutive losses to this Television Champion - no one is going to remember you and no one is going to give a single fuck if you’ve in the muddy banks of the cesspit that is the Clark Fork river. You worthless insipid fucking cunt.”
“Sometimes we’ve just got to the crux of it, don’t we? We can pussy foot with metaphors and analogies as much as I want. But sometimes we just got to call a fucking spade a fucking spade and simply you’re a pitiful waste of fucking humanity. The sooner you die, the better. I’ll fashion an ashtray from your skull after I kick your ass.”
“Again.”
“Like clockwork.”
“We’ll keep spinning our wheels, talking shit and getting hit. It’s inevitable right now. But when the wheels finally do fall off your little gravy train of consecutive losses to this Television Champion - no one is going to remember you and no one is going to give a single fuck if you’ve in the muddy banks of the cesspit that is the Clark Fork river. You worthless insipid fucking cunt.”
“Sometimes we’ve just got to the crux of it, don’t we? We can pussy foot with metaphors and analogies as much as I want. But sometimes we just got to call a fucking spade a fucking spade and simply you’re a pitiful waste of fucking humanity. The sooner you die, the better. I’ll fashion an ashtray from your skull after I kick your ass.”
“Again.”
“Like clockwork.”
