Post by "Dreamcatcher" Ariel Shadows on Jan 12, 2020 19:37:41 GMT -5
Oh shit. I still have a job. For a second, I really thought I was back to having nothing to do.
"Jacqui Fucking Monroe? They put Jac in a fuckin' throwaway team? Against US?"
"Yeah. That's what the booking sheet said."
"Shit. Never mind. I'm excited about this match again."
Eddy Grant's 'Electric Avenue' blares over a jukebox. Ariel and Wesley are huddled over the ends of an air hockey table, deadlocked in a volley of near-perfect reflexes.
"Why you say that?"
"I know the bitch. She's already salty at me to begin with."
"Why?"
"She was fucking Madman before he died. The first time."
"Got you."
"No you don't..."
The puck bounces like a bullet from side to side, striker to striker, with neither of the AW Tag Team Champions moving their eyes from it.
"Fuck right off with that nonsense, babe. I'm about to fuck that ass up."
"Keep talking shit. It'll look that much worse when I beat you in front of our new team members."
"They ain't even here yet!"
"I know. This is just the warm-up. But anyways, yeah...Jacqui gets caught up in her emotions too easy. She's gonna be pissed at me, so she won't even know you and DV are even there."
"And Razzles is gonna be looking at Estrella outside the ring."
"Kennedy Matthews...I like her new haircut."
"It is pretty sweet..."
CLUNK!
"THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU? HUH?"
"Yes, Wesley, you got lucky. Good job."
"You wanna go again?"
"Honey, I ALWAYS wanna go again."
You know...I actually do have a lot to say. This is the first time I've written in this blog for over a month. I mean, I COULD just write in it even if I'm not booked to wrestle. But the thing is...I use this to talk to you. This thing is written for you to read. That is the sole purpose of writing: to be read.
I have a lot I would love to say to you. And I'm sure that you have a lot you'd like to ask me too. You're probably wondering what the fuck happened last week. Well, I'll tell you. Not in this blog post, but at Clash itself.
At Clash, I will personally let everyone know what's going through my mind. The rest of iGnarly will be there, too. And all of us will get our chance to answer your questions, as well as ask a few of our own.
But I don't want you to have to walk away empty handed. No, since you bothered to come read my blog, I want you to have gotten SOMETHING out of it.
So here's your something.
I ain't giving you SHIT.
I ain't giving Kennedy Matthews a single clue what I'm gonna do tomorrow night. I ain't gonna tell Razzles Mars anything about my gameplan. I ain't gonna let Jacqui Monroe know how I feel about her.
I want y'all to keep guessing, and have to watch the fuckin' show to find out for yourself.
You want to make a guess, then go look at my track record. Don't just look at the names I've beaten. Look at HOW I beat them. Look at how I backed up my words time and time again. Look at my successes. It's worth the effort to do your research on me. Especially if you're one of the people booked to face me in 24 hours. Y'all should have already done your homework on me. Y'all should have my matches bookmarked, favorited, whatever.
I know everything I need to know about the three of you. I know that Kennedy Matthews chokes worse than Mama Cass in big matches. I know that Jacqui Monroe could never succeed in this business because she couldn't get a hold of her temper. I know that Razzles Mars just wants the TV belt and probably doesn't give a damn about any of us.
And that's all I need to know to beat your fuckin' asses.
But if you want to know HOW I'm gonna beat your fuckin' asses...just gotta wait until I do it tomorrow night. Oh...I got something for ALL of ya tomorrow night. Tomorrow, live when it counts. When everyone's going to be watching...and when you can't ignore what I've got to say.
Because if there's anything you fuckin' fans are good for, it's ignoring what people have to say. You don't listen. You're the same people who smoke cigarettes while putting gas in their fucking car. God can't give anyone a miracle now, because he spent them all keeping you dumbfucks from blowing up half the hick town y'all live in. And you know how meth labs set off chain reactions. That could easily turn into half the county.
Don't blow up half the county because you couldn't wait to get back in the car to smoke. Don't be an idiot and ignore what you're being told.
Be smart for once.
Tune in tomorrow night to Action Wrestling's Monday Night Clash.
And for God's sake, I'm begging y'all...allow us to enlighten you.
"Jacqui Fucking Monroe? They put Jac in a fuckin' throwaway team? Against US?"
"Yeah. That's what the booking sheet said."
"Shit. Never mind. I'm excited about this match again."
Eddy Grant's 'Electric Avenue' blares over a jukebox. Ariel and Wesley are huddled over the ends of an air hockey table, deadlocked in a volley of near-perfect reflexes.
"Why you say that?"
"I know the bitch. She's already salty at me to begin with."
"Why?"
"She was fucking Madman before he died. The first time."
"Got you."
"No you don't..."
The puck bounces like a bullet from side to side, striker to striker, with neither of the AW Tag Team Champions moving their eyes from it.
"Fuck right off with that nonsense, babe. I'm about to fuck that ass up."
"Keep talking shit. It'll look that much worse when I beat you in front of our new team members."
"They ain't even here yet!"
"I know. This is just the warm-up. But anyways, yeah...Jacqui gets caught up in her emotions too easy. She's gonna be pissed at me, so she won't even know you and DV are even there."
"And Razzles is gonna be looking at Estrella outside the ring."
"Kennedy Matthews...I like her new haircut."
"It is pretty sweet..."
CLUNK!
"THE FUCK DID I TELL YOU? HUH?"
"Yes, Wesley, you got lucky. Good job."
"You wanna go again?"
"Honey, I ALWAYS wanna go again."
You know...I actually do have a lot to say. This is the first time I've written in this blog for over a month. I mean, I COULD just write in it even if I'm not booked to wrestle. But the thing is...I use this to talk to you. This thing is written for you to read. That is the sole purpose of writing: to be read.
I have a lot I would love to say to you. And I'm sure that you have a lot you'd like to ask me too. You're probably wondering what the fuck happened last week. Well, I'll tell you. Not in this blog post, but at Clash itself.
At Clash, I will personally let everyone know what's going through my mind. The rest of iGnarly will be there, too. And all of us will get our chance to answer your questions, as well as ask a few of our own.
But I don't want you to have to walk away empty handed. No, since you bothered to come read my blog, I want you to have gotten SOMETHING out of it.
So here's your something.
I ain't giving you SHIT.
I ain't giving Kennedy Matthews a single clue what I'm gonna do tomorrow night. I ain't gonna tell Razzles Mars anything about my gameplan. I ain't gonna let Jacqui Monroe know how I feel about her.
I want y'all to keep guessing, and have to watch the fuckin' show to find out for yourself.
You want to make a guess, then go look at my track record. Don't just look at the names I've beaten. Look at HOW I beat them. Look at how I backed up my words time and time again. Look at my successes. It's worth the effort to do your research on me. Especially if you're one of the people booked to face me in 24 hours. Y'all should have already done your homework on me. Y'all should have my matches bookmarked, favorited, whatever.
I know everything I need to know about the three of you. I know that Kennedy Matthews chokes worse than Mama Cass in big matches. I know that Jacqui Monroe could never succeed in this business because she couldn't get a hold of her temper. I know that Razzles Mars just wants the TV belt and probably doesn't give a damn about any of us.
And that's all I need to know to beat your fuckin' asses.
But if you want to know HOW I'm gonna beat your fuckin' asses...just gotta wait until I do it tomorrow night. Oh...I got something for ALL of ya tomorrow night. Tomorrow, live when it counts. When everyone's going to be watching...and when you can't ignore what I've got to say.
Because if there's anything you fuckin' fans are good for, it's ignoring what people have to say. You don't listen. You're the same people who smoke cigarettes while putting gas in their fucking car. God can't give anyone a miracle now, because he spent them all keeping you dumbfucks from blowing up half the hick town y'all live in. And you know how meth labs set off chain reactions. That could easily turn into half the county.
Don't blow up half the county because you couldn't wait to get back in the car to smoke. Don't be an idiot and ignore what you're being told.
Be smart for once.
Tune in tomorrow night to Action Wrestling's Monday Night Clash.
And for God's sake, I'm begging y'all...allow us to enlighten you.