Post by Sidney J. Warwick on Dec 16, 2018 22:44:08 GMT -5
(It is December 3, 2018. Approximately 4,000 people, among them some of the most important and celebrated figures in United States politics have gathered at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C. for the second stage of the state funeral of former President George Herbert Walker Bush. The assembled mourners are largely a sea of black suits and white hair, though standing out among the waves of homogeneity are the individuals seated in the very front row of the Cathedral, namely those former U.S. presidents who are still living and their spouses, one of them being the always-controversial Hillary Rodham Clinton.
The services have not yet started, and the attendees are milling about and making small talk before they have to take their seats. Our camera pans from that prestigious front row of past heads of state to the last row of the highest balcony in the Cathedral, where a familiar face stands.
It is the Action Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion Sidney J. Warwick. Uncharacteristically, he has dressed appropriately for this event, wearing a neatly custom-tailored black suit with thin white pinstripes making his 6'5" frame seem even more imposingly tall and his barrel chest all the more rounded. The only thing about his outfit which looks out of place compared to the another attendees of the event is the small American flag pin on his lapel, which would appear normal enough but for the fact that it is turned upside down, a statement meant to signal extreme distress.
While at the back of the balcony, he faces towards a camera of its own, addressing it directly.)
Sidney: I know what everybody who is watching this video now is thinking. They're thinking, "Sidster, what you are at the funeral of George H.W. Bush? How did you even manage to get in here? I mean, sure, being the Action Wrestling Champion makes you an a-list celebrity with your face plastered all over the CBS Sports Network week in and week out, but this is different. Nobody gets into this event without being a member of the Bush family or being a major player on the geopolitical scene."
The answer is simple. I haven't talked about this much since joining the A Dub roster, but those of you who have followed my backstory since my WCF debut will know that my father, Thaddeus Warwick, was a five star general for the United States Army - a five star general who has essentially disowned me because he can't stand my lifestyle and he sure as hell can't stand my gender identity. However, as a result of my upbringing, I did make some connections to a few individuals who are a little bit more sympathetic to what I'm attempting to accomplish, and I managed to pull a few strings in order to get past security and even obtain a special permit to film so that I could bring everybody watching on the Action Wrestling Network this message.
(A ninety-five year old Henry Kissinger stumbles past SJW, obscuring the camera shot for a few moments. The World Champion sneers at him but decides to let him pass.)
Sidney: War criminal.
Anyway, those of you who are not questioning how I managed to get into this event are probably questioning WHY I wanted to get into this event. "Why would you want to get into an event that is celebrating the life and public service of George Bush the First?" you might be asking," Isn't he an individual whose worldview and politics were antithetical to everything that Sidney J. Warwick stands for?"
I'll answer the second question first, and that answer is a loud, clear, and unequivocal "Yes." Though he's being held up as a great statesperson in popular discourse when his time in the White House gets compared to our current dumpster fire of a presidential administration, the fact of the matter is that Bush-41 was nothing short of disgusting. He was of course another shill for the bourgeoisie, doing everything that he could to keep capitalism strong and thriving at the expense of the working person - though he wasn't even particularly good at it, given that he oversaw a terrible financial recession that the Clintons had to bail the country out of. To distract from his ineptness at managing foreign affairs, he found a paper-thin excuse - though granted better than his son's excuse - to invade the sovereign nation of Iraq, because nothing captivates the attention of the American Republican voter like going on the hunt to brutally murder scores of brown people, with bonus points if they're non-Christian brown people.
Of course, the absolute worst thing that Papa Georgie did was his non-response to the AIDS epidemic that began under his predecessor Ronald Reagan and continued to under his watch. To date, over 650,000 people have died of this abhorrent disease, and the blood of each and every single one of them is indelibly stained on the hands of the Bush family, as H.W. and his cabinet failed to do a single thing to contain the disease in its early days. But, come to think of it, why would they do anything to stop it? The primary demographic that that was being affected by HIV in the 1980s and early 1990s was the LGBTQIAPK community, and since when has anybody with an "R" in parenthesis after their name given one hoot about anybody who is not the slightest bit heterosexual?
And, no, I don't count Dick Cheney's so-called "love" for his lesbian daughter. Fuck Dick Cheney.
Let's face it; Republicans like Bush LOVED the fact that AIDS was killing people who were, in their mind, sexual deviants. If they thought it was socially acceptable, they would have been out there actively cheering the disease on. However, they didn't have to. Their cowardice and inaction were the functional and moral equivalent.
Yet, here I am at this celebration of life of a man who, quite frankly, I could barely stand to look at when he was still among the living.
Why?
I'm here because I think it helps me make a point about my upcoming championship defense at the commercial-free edition of Monday Night Clash that will serve as the closer for Action Wrestling in 2019. It helps me highlight a problem that we currently have in the United States of America.
The problem is that we, as a nation, have started to revere and give opportunity after opportunity to people who are proven failures, and, unfortunately, that mentality has begun to pervade Action Wrestling as well.
Let's look at the Bush family. I already alluded to the fact that, despite being a miserable failure as the leader of the free world, people started to exalt George H.W. Bush in the later days of his life and are now gathered here to pay respects to him in a manner that would only befitting of true heroes of this country like Gloria Steinem, Jello Biafra, or Patricia Hill Collins.
(A few attendees of the funeral who have been sitting close by enough to overhear Warwick's remarks begin looking at him crossways at this point, but he pays them no heed.)
Sidney: We didn't just start extolling the nonexistent virtues of George H.W. Bush, though. Oh no, that wasn't enough for bigoted mouth breathers of the world. We decided that this man, who was an abject failure of a president by any measure, was going to be the patriarch of a political dynasty. We decided that, less than a decade after his supremely harmful presidency came to an end, we were going to hand the job off to his somehow even less-competent son, who tanked the economy even worse than his father and lead us into a seventeen-year military quagmire in the Middle East that we still haven't been able to disentangle ourselves from. Oh, we and decided to reward his son's failures by giving him a second term as president, and we decided to reward the failures during that second term by deciding that the family still had enough clout and "respect" in our system to run another one of its coastal-elite-in-Texan's clothing members as a legitimate contender to the presidency any time that they want to.
(Sidney hangs his head for a few moments and shakes it from side-to-side in disappointment.)
And here we sit in December 2018 with Action Wrestling doing the exact same thing.
I'm set to defend the World Heavyweight Championship, what is meant to be the single-most prestigious prize in this entire sport, against a trio of perpetual losers who make the Bush family look like a rousing success.
First off, you've got Karlie Nash. Before we get too far into why Karlie doesn't deserve to be in the same ring with me, let's make one thing abundantly clear. Many people are probably going to want me to get in some cheap shots about Ms. Nash's highly publicized battle with adult illiteracy, but I am not going to do that. It takes a big person to realize that they need to better themselves, and it takes an even bigger person to bring attention to the fact that, in contemporary society, we unjustifiably place professional sports over education to the point that an individual with enough athletic ability is capable of becoming a high-level celebrity without possessing elementary school-level life skills. Don't get me wrong, I have no disdain for professional athletes. After all, I am one myself. However, we should be striving to make sure that members of our society are well-rounded and capable of functioning both physically and intellectually to the fullest extent of the natural talents that they have been given by their creator . . . and, by their creator, I obviously mean the Darwinian theory of natural selection, not some mythical, bearded bon vivant in the sky.
I respect Karlie for everything that she has done outside of the ring recently . . . well, except for the part where she undercuts the dimension that she is trying to give herself by still going back to her clichéd, played out "time to scissor with a MILF" schtick at every opportunity, even while learning to read . . . but I cannot respect her for her recent performance in the ring.
October 21, Carnage, the very same night that I won this World Championship: Karlie Nash loses a tag team match to Spencer Adams and Kyle Kemp.
October 29, Monday Night Clash, Karlie technically picks up a victory, but it's over a glorified manager in Andre Aquarius, so it barely counts.
November 5, Monday Night Clash, Kyle Kemp pins Karlie Nash in singles competition.
November 12, Monday Night Clash, Karlie can't even win a match to become the number one contender for a secondary title, as ZMAC pins her to earn a shot at the UCI Championship, yet Camila Gonzalez exhibits supreme booking ineptitude by naming her number one contender to my World Heavyweight Title.
November 19, Turmoil, I pin Karlie Nash clean as a sheet in the middle of the ring to retain my championship.
What about that looks like the record of somebody who deserves yet another title shot? This woman has been beaten like a drum for a month by the entire roster of this company, and she deserves to be in the main event of the biggest Monday Night Clash of the year? Seriously?
What really bothers me about the fact that I have to defend my title against Karlie again isn't just the fact that I have already beaten her within the last several weeks. It's HOW I beat her. If you roll back the tape from Turmoil, what you'll see is that L Verez hit her finisher, the Celestial Descent, on Nash, and was ready to swoop in to get a three count. However, I managed to cut off Ms. Verez - which we'll talk more about in a second - and I then jaunted over to Nash and covered her without hitting any subsequent offensive maneuvers en route to logging the one count, the two count, and the three count.
Do you know what that means, Karlie? I pinned you for a three count, but, if you account for the fact that I had to dispatch L Verez before I pinned you, you were out cold for the equivalent of a ten count, possibly a twenty count, all because you took one paltry snapmare driver from some sort of odd fairy/alien hybrid. The fact that you couldn't even begin to get your shoulder up for so long after taking such a weak maneuver from a physically inferior opponent means that you're not designed to compete at a World Championship level, Karlie.
You had the right idea when you recruited Nikki Vaughn and attempted to make a go of it in the tag team division. You need somebody like Vaugh who is physically and mentally tougher for you to hide behind. I suggest you re-employ that strategy ASAP instead of continuing to darken the doorstep of the World Title scene, Ms. Nash.
(Between his ranting about the Bush family and his upcoming match, Sidney has gotten himself quite worked up, and he takes a few seconds to dab away beads of sweat that have formed on his forehead.)
Sidney: And let's talk about the mistress of that Celestial Descent. Let's talk about L Verez. L is another person, much like Karlie Nash, who had no business being named a co-number one contender.
Yes, she had a little bit of a hot streak earlier this year, but whatever star this intergalactic fiend has crawled out from under has significantly dimmed and cooled, like a great gas giant collapsing into a dense white dwarf. You crumbled in the ring against Spencer Adams in the Wrestler of the Year tournament, L, and you choke and choked hard in the ring against me. I understand that baseball is the pastime of this nation and the longstanding metaphor appropriate from that boring-as-paint-drying sport is that you get three strikes and then you're out, but this isn't baseball. It's professional wrestling, and I think that, in professional wrestling, we should adopt a two strikes and you're out rule.
Strike one was losing to Spencer Adams. Strike two was losing to me. You shouldn't be in World Title contention at this point, Ms. Verez, and you should count yourself as lucky that you are, because the only thing keeping you there is the fact that we currently have a commissioner of this promotion in Camila Gonzalez who has an axe to grind against me and as a result wants to stack the deck against me by throwing as many bodies as possible into the ring at one time in order to take my title belt. Of course, it also helps that Camila, despite being a talented wrestler in her time, has no idea what she's doing promoting wrestling and doesn't realize that main events are for winners, not for wrestlers who are on significant and embarrassing losing streaks such as L Verez.
It is true that Ms. Verez netted herself an allegedly significant accomplishment since our last match by being voted AW's 2018 Female Wrestler of the Year, but, really, does that mean anything?
I submit that it does not. First off, this is an award determined by the votes of the ADub fans, and those are the same individuals who show their ignorance of what a truly great professional wrestler is when, every single week, they shower me, the greatest performer in the game, with boos and hurled garbage. Furthermore, the Wrestler of the Year distinction is a cumulative distinction based on what was been accomplished throughout the year, and, as I acknowledged earlier, Ms. Verez did have some impressive victories this year. However, a shot at a World Championship should not be determined on a cumulative basis. At the risk of sounding fickle, it should be based not on what you've accomplished in a broad sense but what you've accomplished lately . . . and you, L Verez, have accomplished nothing lately.
Of course, L Verez has her supporters in the wrestling community, and I can hear those supporters clamoring to come to her aid right now. They're going to say two things in defense of her, two things that they think will justify her presence in the ring against me.
First, they're going to say that, as of the last edition of Monday Night Clash, L Verez is now more dangerous than ever because she has the returning Claire Hawkins her corner as her number one Guardian flunkie. With that development, it actually looks like Ms. Verez has taken a page out of Karlie Nash's playbook and recruited a stronger and more talented tag team partner because she's decided that she just can't hack it on her own in the singles division. Ms. Verez is going to hide behind Ms. Hawkins just like Ms. Nash hides behind Ms. Vaughn. It's doubly said, really, because it's not just cowardice - it's cowardice that has been plagiarized from somebody else.
However, this new alliance doesn't frighten me, and if you have any question as to why it doesn't frighten me, you just have to take a look at how the debut of the new Hawkins/Verez duo went.
We were in the midst of our fourteen-person tag team match on the most recent episode of Clash. L was moments away from getting quadruple-teamed by the Hashtag Beach Crew when Ms. Hawkins hit the ring. They beat up poor Pasternak two-on-one while members of Hashtag Fight Smart took out the remainder of the Hashtag Beach Crew. Then, after approximately fifteen seconds of Ms. Verez and Ms. Hawkins demonstrating that they can take advantage of a defenseless man, John Frost appeared in the ring and took them both out of commission simultaneously, after which neither one of them was a factor for the rest of the match.
In other words, the Guardians got to shine for about a fifth of the life cycle of a fruit fly, after which one person took them both out single-handedly. That is hardly an imposing duo.
"But wait!" L Verez's staunchest fans are yelling as they wipe Cheeto dust off of their sausage-shaped fingers and on to their hand-me-down Battlestar Galactica t-shirts. "L Verez deserves this second title shot because she almost won the World Title by pinning Karlie Nash at Turmoil! Sidney Warwick is only the champion now because he stole L's pin!"
There's a word to describe an argument like that: Hogwash.
As I've explained in the past, professional wrestling is a sport that is just as much about brains as it is brawn. Though some people might describe the manner in which I won my last championship defense as "cheap," it was nothing of the sort. Yes, L Verez hit an offensive maneuver and I took advantage of L Verez hitting that offensive maneuver. That is part of the game, though. I out-thought L Verez, and my out-thinking out-performed her attempts to out-muscle Karlie Nash. My strategizing and thinking on my feet is just as valid a part of this sport as any Celestial Descent, and I'm tired of hearing it downplayed.
I outsmarted you on Turmoil, Ms. Verez, and I will outsmart both you and your new friend Ms. Hawkins on our commercial-free Monday Night Clash.
(Before changing subjects, Sidney straightens his tie and his face takes on a more dower look.)
Then we have a newcomer to the World Title scene, somebody who I didn't defeat at Turmoil. However, just because I didn't defeat this gentleman at Turmoil doesn't mean that he has any more business in this match than Karlie Nash or L Verez.
I speak of course about Thaddeus Franklin King, otherwise known as TFK. Astute wrestling fans may note that Mr. King has the same given name as my father, who I mentioned a few moments ago. Some people might call this "ironic," but those people would be idiots who have only learned the definition of irony advanced by Alanis Morisette and not the definition advanced by the Oxford English Dictionary. Though it's not ironic, it is a funny coincidence. If anybody out there in TV land is expecting me to have some sort of daddy issue-related breakdown as a result of this coincidence, though, you need to readjust your expectations. This isn't Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice in which two characters having a commonality of names will lead to a ludicrous dues ex machina. It's just a coincidence; nothing more.
TFK is another individual who is being honored and promoted by Action Wrestling despite having no credible accomplishments in the recent past.
October 21, Mr. King loses his coveted United States Championship to Dandy DeVito, a virtual rookie in our promotion. November 5, he drops another fall, this one to Spencer Adams in the Wrestler of the Year tournament. November 12, he loses the same number one contender match for a UCI Title shot that I referenced earlier in regards to Karlie Nash. November 19, Turmoil, TFK loses in a match against Beau Blaze and Samuel Kidsgrove that was meant to crown the first ever Action Wrestling International Champion.
Yes, Mr. King had an impressively long United States Championship reign during 2018, but he has lost four, count them FOUR consecutive singles matches over the course of the past two months. What in the blue hell makes Thaddeus King, Camila Gonzalez, or anybody else think that such a miserable record makes an individual a viable contender for a World Heavyweight Championship?
This promotion would have been better served if it would have just gone with my original plan of having me defend against Ricky Flippy and Beverly Adams. Seriously.
So, what is it that makes people think that TFK deserves to get within sniffing distance of my World Championship? The only thing that he's managed to do during his dismal slide into obscurity is convince his former rival John Frost to stand in his corner. Frost and King apparently don't know how this sort of thing is supposed to work, though, because they decided that Frost wasn't going to make his debut as TFK's muscle until AFTER Sam Kidsgrove and Beau Blaze had finished beating Mr. King to a bloody pulp. To paraphrase the charming octogenarian from the recent Geico insurance ad, that's not how this works, TFK. That's not how any of this works.
Adding John Frost to his act doesn't make Mr. King a more imposing wrestler. It's a gimmick. It's a schtick. It's meant to make him look more interesting to fans, distracting him from the fact that he's a washed up professional wrestler that can't seem to beat anybody anymore.
Are there any Simpsons fans out there watching this? There have to be, right? This whole thing reminds me of the classic episode "Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy," in which little girls turn away from a longstanding fashion doll, so the executives marketing Malibu Stacy decide that they can revitalize her sales by giving her a new hat. That's all this is. TFK is Malibu Stacy. John Frost is the new hat. Those cartoon eight year old girls might have been fooled and might have ripped those new Malibu Stacys off the shelves, but the gimmick is not working on me, Mr. King. I see through it. I see that you are still very beatable, just as your recent record has proven.
On Monday Night at Clash, it's time for me to put an end of this trend of Action Wrestling allowing these mediocre individuals to "fail up" into World Title matches. It's time for me to prove that the World Title isn't for losers like L Verez, Karlie Nash, TFK, or the Bushes.
It's for winners.
It's for winners like me.
(With this, the camera fades to black, just as the state funeral is to formally begin.)
The services have not yet started, and the attendees are milling about and making small talk before they have to take their seats. Our camera pans from that prestigious front row of past heads of state to the last row of the highest balcony in the Cathedral, where a familiar face stands.
It is the Action Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion Sidney J. Warwick. Uncharacteristically, he has dressed appropriately for this event, wearing a neatly custom-tailored black suit with thin white pinstripes making his 6'5" frame seem even more imposingly tall and his barrel chest all the more rounded. The only thing about his outfit which looks out of place compared to the another attendees of the event is the small American flag pin on his lapel, which would appear normal enough but for the fact that it is turned upside down, a statement meant to signal extreme distress.
While at the back of the balcony, he faces towards a camera of its own, addressing it directly.)
Sidney: I know what everybody who is watching this video now is thinking. They're thinking, "Sidster, what you are at the funeral of George H.W. Bush? How did you even manage to get in here? I mean, sure, being the Action Wrestling Champion makes you an a-list celebrity with your face plastered all over the CBS Sports Network week in and week out, but this is different. Nobody gets into this event without being a member of the Bush family or being a major player on the geopolitical scene."
The answer is simple. I haven't talked about this much since joining the A Dub roster, but those of you who have followed my backstory since my WCF debut will know that my father, Thaddeus Warwick, was a five star general for the United States Army - a five star general who has essentially disowned me because he can't stand my lifestyle and he sure as hell can't stand my gender identity. However, as a result of my upbringing, I did make some connections to a few individuals who are a little bit more sympathetic to what I'm attempting to accomplish, and I managed to pull a few strings in order to get past security and even obtain a special permit to film so that I could bring everybody watching on the Action Wrestling Network this message.
(A ninety-five year old Henry Kissinger stumbles past SJW, obscuring the camera shot for a few moments. The World Champion sneers at him but decides to let him pass.)
Sidney: War criminal.
Anyway, those of you who are not questioning how I managed to get into this event are probably questioning WHY I wanted to get into this event. "Why would you want to get into an event that is celebrating the life and public service of George Bush the First?" you might be asking," Isn't he an individual whose worldview and politics were antithetical to everything that Sidney J. Warwick stands for?"
I'll answer the second question first, and that answer is a loud, clear, and unequivocal "Yes." Though he's being held up as a great statesperson in popular discourse when his time in the White House gets compared to our current dumpster fire of a presidential administration, the fact of the matter is that Bush-41 was nothing short of disgusting. He was of course another shill for the bourgeoisie, doing everything that he could to keep capitalism strong and thriving at the expense of the working person - though he wasn't even particularly good at it, given that he oversaw a terrible financial recession that the Clintons had to bail the country out of. To distract from his ineptness at managing foreign affairs, he found a paper-thin excuse - though granted better than his son's excuse - to invade the sovereign nation of Iraq, because nothing captivates the attention of the American Republican voter like going on the hunt to brutally murder scores of brown people, with bonus points if they're non-Christian brown people.
Of course, the absolute worst thing that Papa Georgie did was his non-response to the AIDS epidemic that began under his predecessor Ronald Reagan and continued to under his watch. To date, over 650,000 people have died of this abhorrent disease, and the blood of each and every single one of them is indelibly stained on the hands of the Bush family, as H.W. and his cabinet failed to do a single thing to contain the disease in its early days. But, come to think of it, why would they do anything to stop it? The primary demographic that that was being affected by HIV in the 1980s and early 1990s was the LGBTQIAPK community, and since when has anybody with an "R" in parenthesis after their name given one hoot about anybody who is not the slightest bit heterosexual?
And, no, I don't count Dick Cheney's so-called "love" for his lesbian daughter. Fuck Dick Cheney.
Let's face it; Republicans like Bush LOVED the fact that AIDS was killing people who were, in their mind, sexual deviants. If they thought it was socially acceptable, they would have been out there actively cheering the disease on. However, they didn't have to. Their cowardice and inaction were the functional and moral equivalent.
Yet, here I am at this celebration of life of a man who, quite frankly, I could barely stand to look at when he was still among the living.
Why?
I'm here because I think it helps me make a point about my upcoming championship defense at the commercial-free edition of Monday Night Clash that will serve as the closer for Action Wrestling in 2019. It helps me highlight a problem that we currently have in the United States of America.
The problem is that we, as a nation, have started to revere and give opportunity after opportunity to people who are proven failures, and, unfortunately, that mentality has begun to pervade Action Wrestling as well.
Let's look at the Bush family. I already alluded to the fact that, despite being a miserable failure as the leader of the free world, people started to exalt George H.W. Bush in the later days of his life and are now gathered here to pay respects to him in a manner that would only befitting of true heroes of this country like Gloria Steinem, Jello Biafra, or Patricia Hill Collins.
(A few attendees of the funeral who have been sitting close by enough to overhear Warwick's remarks begin looking at him crossways at this point, but he pays them no heed.)
Sidney: We didn't just start extolling the nonexistent virtues of George H.W. Bush, though. Oh no, that wasn't enough for bigoted mouth breathers of the world. We decided that this man, who was an abject failure of a president by any measure, was going to be the patriarch of a political dynasty. We decided that, less than a decade after his supremely harmful presidency came to an end, we were going to hand the job off to his somehow even less-competent son, who tanked the economy even worse than his father and lead us into a seventeen-year military quagmire in the Middle East that we still haven't been able to disentangle ourselves from. Oh, we and decided to reward his son's failures by giving him a second term as president, and we decided to reward the failures during that second term by deciding that the family still had enough clout and "respect" in our system to run another one of its coastal-elite-in-Texan's clothing members as a legitimate contender to the presidency any time that they want to.
(Sidney hangs his head for a few moments and shakes it from side-to-side in disappointment.)
And here we sit in December 2018 with Action Wrestling doing the exact same thing.
I'm set to defend the World Heavyweight Championship, what is meant to be the single-most prestigious prize in this entire sport, against a trio of perpetual losers who make the Bush family look like a rousing success.
First off, you've got Karlie Nash. Before we get too far into why Karlie doesn't deserve to be in the same ring with me, let's make one thing abundantly clear. Many people are probably going to want me to get in some cheap shots about Ms. Nash's highly publicized battle with adult illiteracy, but I am not going to do that. It takes a big person to realize that they need to better themselves, and it takes an even bigger person to bring attention to the fact that, in contemporary society, we unjustifiably place professional sports over education to the point that an individual with enough athletic ability is capable of becoming a high-level celebrity without possessing elementary school-level life skills. Don't get me wrong, I have no disdain for professional athletes. After all, I am one myself. However, we should be striving to make sure that members of our society are well-rounded and capable of functioning both physically and intellectually to the fullest extent of the natural talents that they have been given by their creator . . . and, by their creator, I obviously mean the Darwinian theory of natural selection, not some mythical, bearded bon vivant in the sky.
I respect Karlie for everything that she has done outside of the ring recently . . . well, except for the part where she undercuts the dimension that she is trying to give herself by still going back to her clichéd, played out "time to scissor with a MILF" schtick at every opportunity, even while learning to read . . . but I cannot respect her for her recent performance in the ring.
October 21, Carnage, the very same night that I won this World Championship: Karlie Nash loses a tag team match to Spencer Adams and Kyle Kemp.
October 29, Monday Night Clash, Karlie technically picks up a victory, but it's over a glorified manager in Andre Aquarius, so it barely counts.
November 5, Monday Night Clash, Kyle Kemp pins Karlie Nash in singles competition.
November 12, Monday Night Clash, Karlie can't even win a match to become the number one contender for a secondary title, as ZMAC pins her to earn a shot at the UCI Championship, yet Camila Gonzalez exhibits supreme booking ineptitude by naming her number one contender to my World Heavyweight Title.
November 19, Turmoil, I pin Karlie Nash clean as a sheet in the middle of the ring to retain my championship.
What about that looks like the record of somebody who deserves yet another title shot? This woman has been beaten like a drum for a month by the entire roster of this company, and she deserves to be in the main event of the biggest Monday Night Clash of the year? Seriously?
What really bothers me about the fact that I have to defend my title against Karlie again isn't just the fact that I have already beaten her within the last several weeks. It's HOW I beat her. If you roll back the tape from Turmoil, what you'll see is that L Verez hit her finisher, the Celestial Descent, on Nash, and was ready to swoop in to get a three count. However, I managed to cut off Ms. Verez - which we'll talk more about in a second - and I then jaunted over to Nash and covered her without hitting any subsequent offensive maneuvers en route to logging the one count, the two count, and the three count.
Do you know what that means, Karlie? I pinned you for a three count, but, if you account for the fact that I had to dispatch L Verez before I pinned you, you were out cold for the equivalent of a ten count, possibly a twenty count, all because you took one paltry snapmare driver from some sort of odd fairy/alien hybrid. The fact that you couldn't even begin to get your shoulder up for so long after taking such a weak maneuver from a physically inferior opponent means that you're not designed to compete at a World Championship level, Karlie.
You had the right idea when you recruited Nikki Vaughn and attempted to make a go of it in the tag team division. You need somebody like Vaugh who is physically and mentally tougher for you to hide behind. I suggest you re-employ that strategy ASAP instead of continuing to darken the doorstep of the World Title scene, Ms. Nash.
(Between his ranting about the Bush family and his upcoming match, Sidney has gotten himself quite worked up, and he takes a few seconds to dab away beads of sweat that have formed on his forehead.)
Sidney: And let's talk about the mistress of that Celestial Descent. Let's talk about L Verez. L is another person, much like Karlie Nash, who had no business being named a co-number one contender.
Yes, she had a little bit of a hot streak earlier this year, but whatever star this intergalactic fiend has crawled out from under has significantly dimmed and cooled, like a great gas giant collapsing into a dense white dwarf. You crumbled in the ring against Spencer Adams in the Wrestler of the Year tournament, L, and you choke and choked hard in the ring against me. I understand that baseball is the pastime of this nation and the longstanding metaphor appropriate from that boring-as-paint-drying sport is that you get three strikes and then you're out, but this isn't baseball. It's professional wrestling, and I think that, in professional wrestling, we should adopt a two strikes and you're out rule.
Strike one was losing to Spencer Adams. Strike two was losing to me. You shouldn't be in World Title contention at this point, Ms. Verez, and you should count yourself as lucky that you are, because the only thing keeping you there is the fact that we currently have a commissioner of this promotion in Camila Gonzalez who has an axe to grind against me and as a result wants to stack the deck against me by throwing as many bodies as possible into the ring at one time in order to take my title belt. Of course, it also helps that Camila, despite being a talented wrestler in her time, has no idea what she's doing promoting wrestling and doesn't realize that main events are for winners, not for wrestlers who are on significant and embarrassing losing streaks such as L Verez.
It is true that Ms. Verez netted herself an allegedly significant accomplishment since our last match by being voted AW's 2018 Female Wrestler of the Year, but, really, does that mean anything?
I submit that it does not. First off, this is an award determined by the votes of the ADub fans, and those are the same individuals who show their ignorance of what a truly great professional wrestler is when, every single week, they shower me, the greatest performer in the game, with boos and hurled garbage. Furthermore, the Wrestler of the Year distinction is a cumulative distinction based on what was been accomplished throughout the year, and, as I acknowledged earlier, Ms. Verez did have some impressive victories this year. However, a shot at a World Championship should not be determined on a cumulative basis. At the risk of sounding fickle, it should be based not on what you've accomplished in a broad sense but what you've accomplished lately . . . and you, L Verez, have accomplished nothing lately.
Of course, L Verez has her supporters in the wrestling community, and I can hear those supporters clamoring to come to her aid right now. They're going to say two things in defense of her, two things that they think will justify her presence in the ring against me.
First, they're going to say that, as of the last edition of Monday Night Clash, L Verez is now more dangerous than ever because she has the returning Claire Hawkins her corner as her number one Guardian flunkie. With that development, it actually looks like Ms. Verez has taken a page out of Karlie Nash's playbook and recruited a stronger and more talented tag team partner because she's decided that she just can't hack it on her own in the singles division. Ms. Verez is going to hide behind Ms. Hawkins just like Ms. Nash hides behind Ms. Vaughn. It's doubly said, really, because it's not just cowardice - it's cowardice that has been plagiarized from somebody else.
However, this new alliance doesn't frighten me, and if you have any question as to why it doesn't frighten me, you just have to take a look at how the debut of the new Hawkins/Verez duo went.
We were in the midst of our fourteen-person tag team match on the most recent episode of Clash. L was moments away from getting quadruple-teamed by the Hashtag Beach Crew when Ms. Hawkins hit the ring. They beat up poor Pasternak two-on-one while members of Hashtag Fight Smart took out the remainder of the Hashtag Beach Crew. Then, after approximately fifteen seconds of Ms. Verez and Ms. Hawkins demonstrating that they can take advantage of a defenseless man, John Frost appeared in the ring and took them both out of commission simultaneously, after which neither one of them was a factor for the rest of the match.
In other words, the Guardians got to shine for about a fifth of the life cycle of a fruit fly, after which one person took them both out single-handedly. That is hardly an imposing duo.
"But wait!" L Verez's staunchest fans are yelling as they wipe Cheeto dust off of their sausage-shaped fingers and on to their hand-me-down Battlestar Galactica t-shirts. "L Verez deserves this second title shot because she almost won the World Title by pinning Karlie Nash at Turmoil! Sidney Warwick is only the champion now because he stole L's pin!"
There's a word to describe an argument like that: Hogwash.
As I've explained in the past, professional wrestling is a sport that is just as much about brains as it is brawn. Though some people might describe the manner in which I won my last championship defense as "cheap," it was nothing of the sort. Yes, L Verez hit an offensive maneuver and I took advantage of L Verez hitting that offensive maneuver. That is part of the game, though. I out-thought L Verez, and my out-thinking out-performed her attempts to out-muscle Karlie Nash. My strategizing and thinking on my feet is just as valid a part of this sport as any Celestial Descent, and I'm tired of hearing it downplayed.
I outsmarted you on Turmoil, Ms. Verez, and I will outsmart both you and your new friend Ms. Hawkins on our commercial-free Monday Night Clash.
(Before changing subjects, Sidney straightens his tie and his face takes on a more dower look.)
Then we have a newcomer to the World Title scene, somebody who I didn't defeat at Turmoil. However, just because I didn't defeat this gentleman at Turmoil doesn't mean that he has any more business in this match than Karlie Nash or L Verez.
I speak of course about Thaddeus Franklin King, otherwise known as TFK. Astute wrestling fans may note that Mr. King has the same given name as my father, who I mentioned a few moments ago. Some people might call this "ironic," but those people would be idiots who have only learned the definition of irony advanced by Alanis Morisette and not the definition advanced by the Oxford English Dictionary. Though it's not ironic, it is a funny coincidence. If anybody out there in TV land is expecting me to have some sort of daddy issue-related breakdown as a result of this coincidence, though, you need to readjust your expectations. This isn't Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of Justice in which two characters having a commonality of names will lead to a ludicrous dues ex machina. It's just a coincidence; nothing more.
TFK is another individual who is being honored and promoted by Action Wrestling despite having no credible accomplishments in the recent past.
October 21, Mr. King loses his coveted United States Championship to Dandy DeVito, a virtual rookie in our promotion. November 5, he drops another fall, this one to Spencer Adams in the Wrestler of the Year tournament. November 12, he loses the same number one contender match for a UCI Title shot that I referenced earlier in regards to Karlie Nash. November 19, Turmoil, TFK loses in a match against Beau Blaze and Samuel Kidsgrove that was meant to crown the first ever Action Wrestling International Champion.
Yes, Mr. King had an impressively long United States Championship reign during 2018, but he has lost four, count them FOUR consecutive singles matches over the course of the past two months. What in the blue hell makes Thaddeus King, Camila Gonzalez, or anybody else think that such a miserable record makes an individual a viable contender for a World Heavyweight Championship?
This promotion would have been better served if it would have just gone with my original plan of having me defend against Ricky Flippy and Beverly Adams. Seriously.
So, what is it that makes people think that TFK deserves to get within sniffing distance of my World Championship? The only thing that he's managed to do during his dismal slide into obscurity is convince his former rival John Frost to stand in his corner. Frost and King apparently don't know how this sort of thing is supposed to work, though, because they decided that Frost wasn't going to make his debut as TFK's muscle until AFTER Sam Kidsgrove and Beau Blaze had finished beating Mr. King to a bloody pulp. To paraphrase the charming octogenarian from the recent Geico insurance ad, that's not how this works, TFK. That's not how any of this works.
Adding John Frost to his act doesn't make Mr. King a more imposing wrestler. It's a gimmick. It's a schtick. It's meant to make him look more interesting to fans, distracting him from the fact that he's a washed up professional wrestler that can't seem to beat anybody anymore.
Are there any Simpsons fans out there watching this? There have to be, right? This whole thing reminds me of the classic episode "Lisa vs. Malibu Stacy," in which little girls turn away from a longstanding fashion doll, so the executives marketing Malibu Stacy decide that they can revitalize her sales by giving her a new hat. That's all this is. TFK is Malibu Stacy. John Frost is the new hat. Those cartoon eight year old girls might have been fooled and might have ripped those new Malibu Stacys off the shelves, but the gimmick is not working on me, Mr. King. I see through it. I see that you are still very beatable, just as your recent record has proven.
On Monday Night at Clash, it's time for me to put an end of this trend of Action Wrestling allowing these mediocre individuals to "fail up" into World Title matches. It's time for me to prove that the World Title isn't for losers like L Verez, Karlie Nash, TFK, or the Bushes.
It's for winners.
It's for winners like me.
(With this, the camera fades to black, just as the state funeral is to formally begin.)