When I Grow Up - Part II [994 Words]
Apr 8, 2020 7:17:06 GMT -5
Addy A, Quixote Della Torre, and 2 more like this
Post by James Nightingale on Apr 8, 2020 7:17:06 GMT -5
James Nightingale continues to look into the flames, the burning crown melts away, causing the flames to burn brighter.
30 days…
It has been 30 days Odin since I stormed the ring on Monday Night Clash and slammed that metal chair over your stupid fucking head, causing you to collapse in a heap on the ground, and contribute to you losing the number 1 contenders match. Yet you hold no grudge with me, haven’t come seeking retribution, instead focusing all your wrath and fury towards the new World Champion, Lissie Hope.
What’s wrong Odin? Am I not worth your time? I mean you only hog the limelight of the main event so I must be beneath you. But you’ll regret having that attitude towards me, because come Sunday, I will be standing over your fallen body with Corey Blacks’ title around my waist.
You represent all what is wrong with this sport, YOUR A FUCKING CANCEROUS GROWTH! Leeching off the new talent of this business. I am not naive Odin, I made the mistake of attacking someone's age when I faced Corey at Revolution, and look where it got me, nowhere. I know all about the great Odin Balfore, the legendary 21 year career, the long list of World titles and accomplishments to your name. I also know that it would be lazy to just attack your recent record, because like me you have notched up a few losses, I know those losses are tiny asterisks on a very successful career.
But that is where my praise for you ends you son of a bitch. You walk around here like you're entitled to everything! Sorry pal, you’ve still got to earn shit around here. Yes you’ve been World champ like over 20 times, but you’ve also lost those titles over 20 times. When it was announced that you had been granted yet another chance at becoming number 1 contender, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I made my way out through the crowd and grabbed that chair and swung it like I was Babe-fucking Ruth! Your Asagardian like strength was on full display, oh wait it wasn’t as you fell to the ground like a sack of shit! And now you have the nerve to somehow get booked into my rematch with Corey Black? Whose dick are you sucking to get these opportunities? You sure as hell cannot be pleasuring Camila with your tiny pecker dick, you know steroids shrink your dick yeah? Because that’s where your strength comes from, not Asgard you tool.
When you were stuck in that armoured Hummer after you flipped it, did you envision it would be I, James Nightingale who would ruin your chances of yet another World title shot? Finally someone had the balls to stand up to your bullshit Odin, now on Sunday we settle it. I am not a scared man, I knew that one day we would cross paths, The All Father and The Angel of Death, 2 higher beings in an epic battle, throw in The King and we get a massacre.
Your iron will has seen you through many battles Odin, it has served you well over your long and storied career. Yet I have a steel resolve, and we all know that steel is harder and stronger than iron. You think that you can bully me around, that I am some newbie not worthy of your time? FUCK YOU! I am The Angel of Death, no one has risen through the flames in such a short time as me, you may pretend that you do not know me, you can kid yourself that I am not worthy, but you know deep down that I’m as real as it gets and that we are heading towards Ragnarok, no not your finish dipshit, the destruction of the cosmos and everything in it.
Why would you name your own finish after a battle that foretold the death of the great Odin? Can you see into the future, can you already see that at Battlefield you will fall to The Angel of Death? Because that's where we are heading, we are heading to Ragnarok, there will be a great battle in which the death of two great figures in this industry will occur, Corey Black and yours. And after this occurs the new world will resurface, with The Angel of Death ELEVATED TO GOD LIKE STATUS!
Nightingale crouches down, looking deeper into the flames, this time a burning revolver is revealed.
When I grow up… I DO NOT WANT TO BE A GUNSLINGER!!
Gunslingers are merely mortal Odin, you see yourself as this bad ass outlaw who will go out fighting, taking on any opponent in his way to glory. But the trouble with being a gunslinger Odin, is that you will eventually RUN OUT OF BULLETS! You’ve been fighting courageously for a long time Odin, realistically you had one bullet left in the chamber when you fought for the number 1 contendership… AND YOU FUCKING MISSED! You should have instead turned the gun to your temple and blown your own brains out, because if you knew you would have to face me in a match I specialise in I’m sure you would have liked to save yourself the pain and suffering you are about to receive at Battlefield.
Your all out of ammo, you are the lonesome gunslinger Texan held up in The Alamo, whilst the Mexican Army, representing the uprising in new talent such as myself storm the walls, seeking to destroy the cancerous growth of this roster and claim the opportunities which are rightfully theirs and not your’s. No amount of blunts will improve your aim, THIS angel is the Valkyrie soaring into Battlefield, I will choose you to die Odin, but I will not deliver you to the afterlife hall of the slain, Valhalla.
No I will simply leave you to bleed out in the trash, WHERE EVERY CANCEROUS GROWTH BELONGS!!