Post by Gerard Angelo on Mar 3, 2024 6:12:19 GMT -5
It had been a month since the incident. Angelo had engaged in a mortal struggle with his clone. He didn’t know if it was the one known as G who had been living with him for the past few months. All he remembered was fighting one and being attacked from behind by another with a baseball bat. He awoke to find his comatose father missing. He was sure that Windthrope was behind this. Gerry had thought about going back to the facility but alone that was a suicide mission. Plus, he didn’t have the money to hire the Ronin again. Jimmy would probably charge him double this time.
Gerard sat in his kitchen, the mess of a month ago long since taken care of by his housekeeper. She’d cleaned up worse in this house. Angelo poured himself another double, his eyes locked on the dent in his fridge from where he slammed his doppelganger’s head into it. He raised the glass, taking a long draught. He didn’t know if it was healthy to keep dividing his attention between the situation in his personal life and his life as an Action Wrestling star. It was getting harder and harder to find a balance between keeping his career at the world-class standard he was used to and defeating the growing threat to his family. The other shoe finally dropped. His World Championship snatched from him unceremoniously by Teo Blaze of all people. The man he spent months saying wasn't good enough to lace his boots. He had to regain focus. He worked too hard to get back to the top to be lost in the shuffle.
On the other hand, what happens if Windthrope decides keeping his father alive is too much trouble? What if he decided to send a message by murdering Sean? Or Katia and the baby? Even G who he’d grown fond of. He shuddered at the thought. He needed to figure out a solution to this problem. He thought coming up with a plan for everything was his skill, which set him apart from everyone else. Gerry sighed. Maybe it was only in wrestling he could play mental chess like that. He was dealing with a literal mad scientist here who could get close to anyone Gerry held dear. He drained the rest of his scotch before pouring himself another. Angelo lifted the glass, swirling the amber liquid around as he stared, like he was hoping the alcohol would provide him an answer. That’s when his phone started to ring. Gerard reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPhone, the caller ID reading RESTRICTED. He hit the green icon.
“Hello?”
“If you want to see your father again, come to the coordinates being sent, alone,” said the robotic voice on the other end.
“Who is this?” Gerard asked but they hung up. He grew frustrated when the chime of a text sounded. He opened the message to see a longitude and latitude. Gerry stood up and downed his glass of scotch.
I’m sure you all want me to address the elephant in the room, huh? Address a certain someone.
Go fuck yourself.
This week isn’t about that fake luchador dipshit. This week is about the start of the Match Madness tournament. Like March Madness? Because CBS has the rights to the tournament and we’re on CBS? It's a whole cross-promotion thing. All you need to know is the winner of the tournament gets a shot at my World Championship. Now I’m sure you dorks are asking why I care when I already have the All-In briefcase.
It’s because I’m going to prove a point. I’m going to prove that there is not a person on this roster who can lace my boots. Gerry didn't fall off.
This week I’m facing Chelsea Winston. See, Chels, I could be dismissive and just post the gif of Snoop going “Who?!?!” about you. But, as the face of the company, I made an effort to look into you and I really wish I didn’t.
We get it, you’re from Australia, so cool bro. People who make their birth country their entire personality are lame as hell. Addy’s also from Australia but you don’t see her fondling a kangaroo. You’re like Steve Irwin if he smoked meth and was banned from the zoo. Using vague Aquaman-ish powers one day then having a bunch of random followers the next until you don’t. I thought about giving myself a drill bit lobotomy watching all of this.
So I decided to work smarter and I went to the one place that will teach me more than listening to you ramble on about nonsense. I went to Outback Steakhouse. I got a Big Bloke of Bloomin’ Blonde Ale. I got a Bloomin’ Onion. I ordered a Melbourne Porterhouse and ate until I was sweaty and red like Odin trying to fit his tights over his gut.
As I sat there in what could only be a sodium overdose I looked around at the decor and thought, ‘Wow, this is so Chelsea Winston’. It finally clicked! You’re if Outback Steakhouse was a person. You’re what an American thinks an Aussie is. Let me tell you, pal, you’re nailing it. You’re as subtle as a car wreck. If your goal was to make everyone cringe, you’re the Tom Brady of it.
It’s gonna take a lot more than showing random animals and yelling catchphrases to beat me. I’m like nobody you’ve ever faced before. I’m the best wrestler you’ll ever face. I’m the goddamn GOAT. I have fewer losses in ADub than I have fingers. There are levels to this shit and you’re gonna strain your neck looking up at mine.
I hope you enjoy the spotlight you get being in the ring with the face of ADub. I hope you give your best Steve Irwin impression. Because I’m gonna imitate a stingray and stab you through the heart.
The only way this ends is a Hollywood Ending.
Gerard sat in his kitchen, the mess of a month ago long since taken care of by his housekeeper. She’d cleaned up worse in this house. Angelo poured himself another double, his eyes locked on the dent in his fridge from where he slammed his doppelganger’s head into it. He raised the glass, taking a long draught. He didn’t know if it was healthy to keep dividing his attention between the situation in his personal life and his life as an Action Wrestling star. It was getting harder and harder to find a balance between keeping his career at the world-class standard he was used to and defeating the growing threat to his family. The other shoe finally dropped. His World Championship snatched from him unceremoniously by Teo Blaze of all people. The man he spent months saying wasn't good enough to lace his boots. He had to regain focus. He worked too hard to get back to the top to be lost in the shuffle.
On the other hand, what happens if Windthrope decides keeping his father alive is too much trouble? What if he decided to send a message by murdering Sean? Or Katia and the baby? Even G who he’d grown fond of. He shuddered at the thought. He needed to figure out a solution to this problem. He thought coming up with a plan for everything was his skill, which set him apart from everyone else. Gerry sighed. Maybe it was only in wrestling he could play mental chess like that. He was dealing with a literal mad scientist here who could get close to anyone Gerry held dear. He drained the rest of his scotch before pouring himself another. Angelo lifted the glass, swirling the amber liquid around as he stared, like he was hoping the alcohol would provide him an answer. That’s when his phone started to ring. Gerard reached into his pocket and pulled out his iPhone, the caller ID reading RESTRICTED. He hit the green icon.
“Hello?”
“If you want to see your father again, come to the coordinates being sent, alone,” said the robotic voice on the other end.
“Who is this?” Gerard asked but they hung up. He grew frustrated when the chime of a text sounded. He opened the message to see a longitude and latitude. Gerry stood up and downed his glass of scotch.
I’m sure you all want me to address the elephant in the room, huh? Address a certain someone.
Go fuck yourself.
This week isn’t about that fake luchador dipshit. This week is about the start of the Match Madness tournament. Like March Madness? Because CBS has the rights to the tournament and we’re on CBS? It's a whole cross-promotion thing. All you need to know is the winner of the tournament gets a shot at my World Championship. Now I’m sure you dorks are asking why I care when I already have the All-In briefcase.
It’s because I’m going to prove a point. I’m going to prove that there is not a person on this roster who can lace my boots. Gerry didn't fall off.
This week I’m facing Chelsea Winston. See, Chels, I could be dismissive and just post the gif of Snoop going “Who?!?!” about you. But, as the face of the company, I made an effort to look into you and I really wish I didn’t.
We get it, you’re from Australia, so cool bro. People who make their birth country their entire personality are lame as hell. Addy’s also from Australia but you don’t see her fondling a kangaroo. You’re like Steve Irwin if he smoked meth and was banned from the zoo. Using vague Aquaman-ish powers one day then having a bunch of random followers the next until you don’t. I thought about giving myself a drill bit lobotomy watching all of this.
So I decided to work smarter and I went to the one place that will teach me more than listening to you ramble on about nonsense. I went to Outback Steakhouse. I got a Big Bloke of Bloomin’ Blonde Ale. I got a Bloomin’ Onion. I ordered a Melbourne Porterhouse and ate until I was sweaty and red like Odin trying to fit his tights over his gut.
As I sat there in what could only be a sodium overdose I looked around at the decor and thought, ‘Wow, this is so Chelsea Winston’. It finally clicked! You’re if Outback Steakhouse was a person. You’re what an American thinks an Aussie is. Let me tell you, pal, you’re nailing it. You’re as subtle as a car wreck. If your goal was to make everyone cringe, you’re the Tom Brady of it.
It’s gonna take a lot more than showing random animals and yelling catchphrases to beat me. I’m like nobody you’ve ever faced before. I’m the best wrestler you’ll ever face. I’m the goddamn GOAT. I have fewer losses in ADub than I have fingers. There are levels to this shit and you’re gonna strain your neck looking up at mine.
I hope you enjoy the spotlight you get being in the ring with the face of ADub. I hope you give your best Steve Irwin impression. Because I’m gonna imitate a stingray and stab you through the heart.
The only way this ends is a Hollywood Ending.