Post by Jaice Wilds on Dec 10, 2019 13:14:56 GMT -5
The following is a letter addressed to Corey Black; intercepted and published to the Action Wrestling website.
Stop sucking my dick… or something like that.
No, seriously. It's getting to be borderline pathetic, Corey. Almost six fucking months, and you still can't get off my cock.
Jesus fuck, dude. One would think you'd have put it behind yourself- y'know, like I have? Don't get me wrong, Core; I appreciate the fact that I'm still getting name recognition after half a year's gone by. But chrissake, man. At some point, you gotta learn to let the past fucking go. You're gagging on my cock harder than a 12 cent English hooker- hey, Kenz- but this is entirely different.
You think I'm joking. But look at the facts, Corey: you called me an "egotistical disease" and talked about how my "ego transcends Action Wrestling". You did what you set out to do: you put a loss on my record and saw me thrown from the proverbial kingdom. You beat me.
So why, dear Buddha WHY, do you insist on keeping your lips firmly suckled around my nutsack?? I leave the company around the ninth of June. Since then, you've mentioned my name no less than a dozen times. For fuck's sake; you dedicated a title match to my name.
I said it before: I'm not like anyone else in this business. Anyone else who amounted to anything owed some part of their career to Corey Black. Until there was one who didn't. The man on the rise who needed no connection to Creeping Death. And the fact that someone was getting so much attention without your influence bugged the hell out of you.
So you came at me. Well, not you, per se, but a bunch of goons just as irrelevant as you were at that point. And then, Corey, at the Havoc Rumble, you finally unveiled yourself. And sure; at first, I thought it was an honor. The King of All Wrestlers, stepping away from his throne to challenge me. But then, things slowly revealed the truth.
After listening to a PRIDEcast, I had an idea. Two legends of the extreme style of wrestling, lending their legacies to the prestige of the new Hardcore Title. As a company man, that's what I'm about. But not you. You didn't care about this company; all you cared about was making sure you weren't forgotten when you faded back into obscurity.
So I appealed to the management. Tried to make sure that this thing between us ended on a note befitting our statuses. And yet, whether by your necessity to retire on your own terms or ya bois feeling like they had to protect your bitch ass; we got thrown into a midcard normal match in the midst of chaos and destruction on the biggest card of the year. So yeah, I employed a trained body double to fight in my stay. Ensure that, regardless of the outcome, you'd be enticed to a rematch at Carnage. A real match; one where all my frustrations and all your bravado could be on full display, and only one of us would be walking out of our own faculties. But we all know how that story ended.
And yet, Corey, you persist. You say my name like I'm goddamn Beetlejuice or some shit, thinking maybe I'll be provoked into making a statement or putting in an impromptu appearance.
Why, Corey? Why are you so obsessed with me??
You won't admit to it. But I laid the answer before the masses during Evo 2. You need me. You needed me to be victorious over you, so you could fade back into the shadows where you belong and still have your ego stroked every time I took the stage. But that didn't happen, did it? Because I had you figured out, boy.
Now look at you. Tried to walk away anyways. Get tangled up in temporary bullshit; but the entire fucking time, you can't stay off my ass. I've put it behind me, let it die… but you simply can't.
At one point, you were this great thing. A force of nature, unequalled. A name that brought fear and respect to the ring, a face that struck terror into the hearts of his foes. And now… now, you are a shell. An empty visage, clinging to the remnants of who you once were in hopes you can remain relevant.
King of All Wrestlers.
Give me a break.
The 2019 return tour of Corey Black was brought to you by Jaice Wilds. The Man Made Gods, your reign as AW Hardcore Champion: entirely owed to the will of Jaice fucking Wilds. Everything you have done this year, Corey, has been directly influenced by your involving yourself in my career. You wanted me to carry your name for the rest of eternity; yet here I am, having flipped the script, making you chase me. Everything you are this year, everything you've done is a direct correlation of your need to come at me.
XIII isn't about settling scores, Corey: wins and losses never phased me. I'm coming to XIII because, despite the blubbering mass you've become, a part of me still has a modicum of respect for who you used to be. For the legacy you built; yet tear down with every passing moment. I am coming to your house to do you a favor.
Jaice Wilds is going to put down Corey Black for his own good. So the Fallen King can finally let go and fade away into obscurity, the way he wanted to so badly after Evolution. I'm coming to XIII to release you from your self-imposed chains.
You're fucking welcome.
I'll see you soon, Corey. Just try not to cum too hard when I do.
Stop sucking my dick… or something like that.
No, seriously. It's getting to be borderline pathetic, Corey. Almost six fucking months, and you still can't get off my cock.
Jesus fuck, dude. One would think you'd have put it behind yourself- y'know, like I have? Don't get me wrong, Core; I appreciate the fact that I'm still getting name recognition after half a year's gone by. But chrissake, man. At some point, you gotta learn to let the past fucking go. You're gagging on my cock harder than a 12 cent English hooker- hey, Kenz- but this is entirely different.
You think I'm joking. But look at the facts, Corey: you called me an "egotistical disease" and talked about how my "ego transcends Action Wrestling". You did what you set out to do: you put a loss on my record and saw me thrown from the proverbial kingdom. You beat me.
So why, dear Buddha WHY, do you insist on keeping your lips firmly suckled around my nutsack?? I leave the company around the ninth of June. Since then, you've mentioned my name no less than a dozen times. For fuck's sake; you dedicated a title match to my name.
I said it before: I'm not like anyone else in this business. Anyone else who amounted to anything owed some part of their career to Corey Black. Until there was one who didn't. The man on the rise who needed no connection to Creeping Death. And the fact that someone was getting so much attention without your influence bugged the hell out of you.
So you came at me. Well, not you, per se, but a bunch of goons just as irrelevant as you were at that point. And then, Corey, at the Havoc Rumble, you finally unveiled yourself. And sure; at first, I thought it was an honor. The King of All Wrestlers, stepping away from his throne to challenge me. But then, things slowly revealed the truth.
After listening to a PRIDEcast, I had an idea. Two legends of the extreme style of wrestling, lending their legacies to the prestige of the new Hardcore Title. As a company man, that's what I'm about. But not you. You didn't care about this company; all you cared about was making sure you weren't forgotten when you faded back into obscurity.
So I appealed to the management. Tried to make sure that this thing between us ended on a note befitting our statuses. And yet, whether by your necessity to retire on your own terms or ya bois feeling like they had to protect your bitch ass; we got thrown into a midcard normal match in the midst of chaos and destruction on the biggest card of the year. So yeah, I employed a trained body double to fight in my stay. Ensure that, regardless of the outcome, you'd be enticed to a rematch at Carnage. A real match; one where all my frustrations and all your bravado could be on full display, and only one of us would be walking out of our own faculties. But we all know how that story ended.
And yet, Corey, you persist. You say my name like I'm goddamn Beetlejuice or some shit, thinking maybe I'll be provoked into making a statement or putting in an impromptu appearance.
Why, Corey? Why are you so obsessed with me??
You won't admit to it. But I laid the answer before the masses during Evo 2. You need me. You needed me to be victorious over you, so you could fade back into the shadows where you belong and still have your ego stroked every time I took the stage. But that didn't happen, did it? Because I had you figured out, boy.
Now look at you. Tried to walk away anyways. Get tangled up in temporary bullshit; but the entire fucking time, you can't stay off my ass. I've put it behind me, let it die… but you simply can't.
At one point, you were this great thing. A force of nature, unequalled. A name that brought fear and respect to the ring, a face that struck terror into the hearts of his foes. And now… now, you are a shell. An empty visage, clinging to the remnants of who you once were in hopes you can remain relevant.
King of All Wrestlers.
Give me a break.
The 2019 return tour of Corey Black was brought to you by Jaice Wilds. The Man Made Gods, your reign as AW Hardcore Champion: entirely owed to the will of Jaice fucking Wilds. Everything you have done this year, Corey, has been directly influenced by your involving yourself in my career. You wanted me to carry your name for the rest of eternity; yet here I am, having flipped the script, making you chase me. Everything you are this year, everything you've done is a direct correlation of your need to come at me.
XIII isn't about settling scores, Corey: wins and losses never phased me. I'm coming to XIII because, despite the blubbering mass you've become, a part of me still has a modicum of respect for who you used to be. For the legacy you built; yet tear down with every passing moment. I am coming to your house to do you a favor.
Jaice Wilds is going to put down Corey Black for his own good. So the Fallen King can finally let go and fade away into obscurity, the way he wanted to so badly after Evolution. I'm coming to XIII to release you from your self-imposed chains.
You're fucking welcome.
I'll see you soon, Corey. Just try not to cum too hard when I do.