Santa Vayden's Comin' to Town!
Dec 7, 2019 13:02:06 GMT -5
Quixote Della Torre, Olivia R. Adler, and 2 more like this
Post by Derrick Vayden on Dec 7, 2019 13:02:06 GMT -5
Derrick Vayden is standing in the middle of a fake Christmas wonderland. He’s wearing a traditional red Santa suit with a fake white beard, his normal beard somewhat poking through the mass of white.
“Santa Vayden’s comin’ to town! And he’s bringing gifts!
“Let’s see… What do we got here?”
Vayden reaches into his big red bag and rummages around for nothing in particular.
“Oh yeah, here we go!”
Vayden pulls a large shovel out of the bag.
“For you, Mr. Dead… Well, actually this is more for me. See, I’m going to use this handy shovel to bury your ass six feet under the ground like the pile of dead meat that you are. You may have gotten the best of me in our last encounter. And, to be fair, that’s entirely my fault. I underestimated your abilities. I assumed since you primarily fought people with names like ‘Mr. Giggles’ that you weren’t a threat, a non-issue. Oh, how wrong I was!
"Unfortunately for you, I learn from my mistakes. I don’t know if you are a zombie or not and I don’t care. What I do know is that my cat’s love bites hurt more than yours and I’ve seen better mind games from that hack Criss Angel. Be careful, cause I’m gonna freak your mind!
“But you know who should be really freaked? Your wife. Does she really think it's a good idea for you to share a ring with the two best cruiserweights this company has ever seen? Sorry to tell you, man, but I think she has some ulterior motives. She has to see that you’re a mere antelope in the middle of two lions about to fight over who gets your carcass first. Tell me. Did she just take a life insurance policy out on you?
“In all seriousness. The thing I dislike most about you, though, is that you’re such a clinger. You need to latch onto a group of dumbasses to make yourself feel accepted and strong. Not the route I’d go, but I can understand it. The thing I hate about it is that you decided to latch onto the MadCunts of all people.
“OH! Quixote, how could I forget about you?? Don’t you worry, Trailmix. I got plenty of goodies in my sack for you.”
Another round of rummaging. This time he comes up with a small device. A GPS.
“For you, my dear friend is something to help you follow this trail of yours. You need this because, frankly... you need it. You think the trail you’re on will lead you to the cruiserweight title at XIII and that’s simply not the case. I think you got all turned around after shagging Tawney and or Jenna. They’re messing with your head, man!
“On top of that, you’re super lost if you think you’re the greatest cruiserweight of all time. I mean, look at the facts, brochef. I got a longer reign than you. A longer cumulative reign than you. The only thing you got me beat in is number of reigns. But, to be honest, that’s fine. All that says is you’ve lost it more than me. It took me one less reign to more than double what it took you three to do.
“With that said, you must be careful, dear Quixote. You ran away from the Cruiserweight division to escape me. Next, you ran from the main roster to escape Leviathan. Where will you run if and when you need to escape me again? I heard Outlaw Pro is desperate for members.
“One side note… A sincere congratulations on your upcoming child. I mean that. She will be the perfect consolation after I ruin your Cruiserweight homecoming.
“And finally, this last gift will be one that you, Quixote and Raging, will have to share. Your final gift from ol’ Santa Vayden is…
“A nice, good old fashioned ass whooping! You’re going to catch these hooves courtesy of Dancer, Dasher, Prancer, Vixen, Donner, Cupid, Comet and Blitzen. Then Rudolph is gonna shove his nose-so-bright right up your ass!
“The cruiserweight title will be home for the holidays. In my arms, where it belongs.”