Paying Tribute To A Former Arch-Rival & A Good Friend
Jul 17, 2020 18:37:57 GMT -5
Karlie Nash, Corey Bull, and 3 more like this
Post by Shadowlove on Jul 17, 2020 18:37:57 GMT -5
North East Okayama Prefecture On The Border Of Hyogo Prefecture, Japan, Present Day, around the midnight hour...
Veiled in an inland marine layer of foggy mist, contributing greatly to the wet environment just outside the very quaint little village of Miyamoto in Mimasaka, stood an Old Abandoned Church Of Final Judgment. The old grey stones of this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary were only visible where the cherry blossoms had not yet bloomed and seemed to have come alive in an attempt to sweep over this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
An immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard echoing in the distance throughout the very quaint little village of Miyamoto in Mimasaka and, by the sound, seems to be coming closer and closer towards this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
The once stained glass windows gave way to the branches of the cherry blossoms trees and have entered and intertwined their way through this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary long ago. Sections of the ceiling had collapsed, giving way to a shade of sparkling emerald green moonlight magically illuminating an altar within this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
There was a small pile of partially burned bibles and charred wood just below the altar showing that not all people had forgotten about this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
The immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard echoing louder and louder and shaking the very foundation of this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
This very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary that often seemed so far away to the outside world, so frigid and set apart from the natural beauty of the surrounding cherry blossom trees came alive with the combined smell of smoke, ash, incense, and with the sweet flowery scent of fragrances, has given way to an old world feeling of an awe inspiring sense of sharp and penetrating fascination of spiritual mystery.
Snap, Hiss.
A handheld percussive tube sparks up and glides through the air with the greatest of ease like some kind of out of control bizarre pyrotechnic firework gone seriously array before landing just below the altar and restarting the bonfire of partially burned bibles and charred wood. And illuminating...
Your favorite and most polarizing modern day charismatic and charming, egotistical, felicitating, narcissistic, politically incorrect, self-righteous, vainglorious, second-generation megalomaniac and most effective and efficient apex predator, “The Handsome Half-breed” Shadowlove, sitting back relaxing on a pew with his fingers interlocked through his classic masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair behind his head.
He was stripped to the waist showing off the upper body of a Greek God, with washboard abs, in a newly fresh and crisp custom-made Calvin Klein stark liquid white leather trench-coat with fringe along with his custom-made Calvin Klein crocodile skinned pants and custom-made Calvin Klein alligator skinned boots perched up on the pew in front of him and crossed at the ankles.
He was fully entrenched inside the Kokutan, the so-called black breath that removes all sense of superfluous thoughts and actions within his mind, body, heart, and soul.
Quietly, to himself, he appeared to be lip syncing a song, “WHEREVER I MAY ROAM” by Metallica & The San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, that he was listening to on his (product placement) custom-made special edition Beats Studio gloss stark white wireless headphones:
His low dusky voice rings out fully, with all the charm and charisma that one can muster, mister, as he gets down to business and starts painting his masterpiece:
“ What can I say about my good friend and former arch-rival, The Creeping Death, Kevin Bishop? He was the one person in the professional wrestling sports entertainment business that brought his very own plague of stupidity into my life and into the life of my sweet and lovely Miyamoto that drove all of us, including him, almost completely batshit crazy...”
He pauses for a moment of silence and starts laughing to himself picturing the look on Big Kev’s face with tears forming in his eyes as his butt cheeks begin crazily puckering up in anticipation, my friend.
“ Enjoy your retirement, my good friend, it’s very much well deserved. We started out with our paths crossing thanks to the vision that mad-scientist Spencer Adams had for us in the UCI. Do you remember how Spencer was chomping at the bit looking like Mr. McMahon in his UCI office imaging just how we would look as part of his dream Super-Stable to rival The Guardians and what that #beachkrew/Pantheon hybrid was doing in that now defunct second-rate organization with third-rate talent?...”
He shakes his head, unbelievable, at the thought of Spencer Adams hocked up on FunYuns and RedBull while bouncing off the walls like Woody Woodpecker. Spencer’s contemptuous ″Heh-heh-heh-HEHHHH-heh″continuously laughing all the way. Geezus… Geezus.
“ But you and I looked at him and then you and I looked at each other, knowing that Spencer Adams sure was one dumb son-of-a-bitch fanatical genius when he booked Kevin Bishop vs. Shadowlove. And we gave him his White Buffalo, if you will...”
He waves his index finger up in a no, no, no, style gesture knowing all you idiot savants out there would probably try to lynch, too soon, my bad, Spencer like he was Dan Snyder and the Washington Redskins for his cultural misappropriation.
“ Calm down, calm down. We gave Spencer Adams what the UCI needed most of all at the time… We gave the UCI it’s WWE version of Hulk Hogan vs. Rowdy Roddy Piper…”
He pauses to let that statement sink into the minds of the AW’s Hierarchy, every velveteen wrestler behind the curtain in the back, and AW’s Fandom.
“ The Kevin Bishop vs. Shadowlove feud rivaled that of Sam Kidsgrove vs. Dandy DiVito, Wade Moor vs. QDT, and Sam Kidsgrove vs James Nightingale in the modern era of AW. Those are the kind of feuds that every professional wrestling sports entertainment wrestler only dreams of having once throughout their professional wrestling sports entertainment, much less, two…”
Damn, Sammy, that’s why the names Sam Kidsgrove, Shadowlove, and T.F.K. are synonymous with The Hollywood Elite. Good luck in your match with Geri Vayden this week.
“ But, I digress. I poured, I mean we poured, meaning Big Kev and myself, everything we had in order to give the professional wrestling sports entertainment business a feel good moment in this decade of decadence. We drove each other to the very threshold of death inside and outside of sports arenas and sports stadiums throughout the world. We gave the common fan their money's worth each and every night…”
He reaches inside his newly fresh and crisp custom-made Calvin Klein stark liquid white leather trench-coat with fringe and removes a money clip and starts making it rain with different money denominations from throughout the world.
“ And when these two friendly arch-rivals finally teamed together it was a thing of beauty. It wasn’t for UCI. It wasn’t for NBW. And it wasn’t even for AW. We joined forces and formed one of the most dominant stables ever in the professional wrestling sports entertainment business with the true meaning of FreeBird Odds…”
Tada. The Harbingers were born and wherever The Harbingers may have roamed, the body count went up. Just ask Bonnie Blue, L Verez, my former partner in crime, Sam Kidsgrove, and Jenson.
“ Don’t worry Corey Bull. I wasn’t going to leave your name out of this tale of the body thieves. Bull was our version of Terry “Bam-Bam” Gordy. And it’s good to see Corey Bull finally living up to his true potential, and stepping out of The Harbingers creeping death shadow, by becoming a true harbinger of death and destruction and mayhem…”
His thoughts turn to Lissie Hope, for some very odd reason, as he hears The immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine coming closer.
“ Now Lissie, before you take credit in ending the professional wrestling sports entertainment wrestling career of Kevin Bishop, Big Kev, was long dead before he came your way. You see, every professional wrestling sports entertainment wrestler has a problem with not knowing when to burn out and fade away. Even I could see Big Kev’s blackheart just wasn’t fully invested in his professional wrestling sports entertainment business career. Takes Time. And Money. You only faced the former shell of the man that was Kevin Bishop. You never faced the true Kevin Bishop in the prime of his professional wrestling sports entertainment business career. And Lissie, you can thank yours truly for that. We spent over one and a half years of our lives embroiled in this money-making feud that started in UCI and ended in AW with a tar and feather scaffold match. And Big Kev was never the same after we climbed that scaffolding one last time and I ended him when I delivered The Dark Gift off the scaffolding through a series of stacked tables and tarred and feathered his professional wrestling sports entertainment business career, forever and evermore…”
He runs his fingers through his classically masculine and modern mussed, razor-textured, choppy finished dark brown hair, down his neck, over his muscular chest and washboard abs, flicking fake beads of sweat off his fingers towards the camera.
“ Big Kev. It saddens me by the way that you’re decided to just walk off into the sunset of your professional wrestling sports entertainment business career. We both know a guy that wouldn’t let that happen? You know that guy that has almost just as big of a celebrity following as me? You just might say that he was The Hollywood Elite, too. But when your times up, your times up, my friend. It was one helluva run, you deserve to be sitting on the porch of the house surrounded by a white picket fence with Karma as your storybook ending, my friend. So I’m going to send you a proper send off...”
He holds up three fingers in a scouts honor gesture of Stuart Slane and wonders if Kevin Bishop is smart enough to read between the lines and see that he just gave him the one-finger salute. You know, the big bird, Big Kev?
“ Buh, bye…”
He holds up three fingers in a scouts honor gesture of Stuart Slane and wonders if Kevin Bishop is smart enough to read between the lines and see that he just gave him the one-finger salute. You know, the big bird, Big Kev?
“ Buh, bye…”
The sophisticatedly carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes, enters this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary and cruises to a stop down the aisle way in front of the burning bonfire.
A gracefully sensuous petite, yet dignified, silhouette spoke of a female wearing a Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with her attractively well-proportioned, slim, trim, toned body built for sin was encased in a form-fitting Dainese Mike lady Vantablack leather jacket, a form-fitting Dainese Alien Vantablack leather pants, and Vantablack SIDI Adventure Gore-Tex boots, swings and pirouettes her leg, with Bushidō catlike precision, over the 4.5 gallon gas tank and Rizoma handlebars of the Ducati Diavel.
The silhouette figure slowly removes the Vantablack carbon AGV Pista GP Helmet with Vantablack fingerless gloves revealing the angelic looking face of his sweet and lovely femme fatale temptress, “The Fashionista Sensei” Miss Miyamoto.
Her raven black hair was pulled back in a French braid showing off her angelic face with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes hidden behind her iconic Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses that were strategically placed on her perfectly flawless nose.
Her sweet as honey, harmoniously hypnotizing, smooth as silk, smoky voice radiating through her very luscious and very alluring lips:
“ Are you through walking down memory lane and reminiscing about that plague of stupidity?...”
She knew there was some unfinished business to be taken care of on Monday Night Clash. Hell, he’s only been back a few weeks and he’s already in a #1 Contenders Match for the AW Pure Championship? Does AW’s Hierarchy, every velveteen wrestler behind the curtain in the back, and AW’s Fandom believe in miracles? Just watch the fire in the sky.
“ Fuck, me…”
She lowers her iconic Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses that were strategically placed on her perfectly flawless nose showing off her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes and looks him up and down like the magnificent specimen that he his inside and outside of the squared-circle.
“ Maybe, later…”
She mysteriously begins conjuring up a mystical spell over him just by her mere presence while taking her proper place against his muscular body and moving very little, never turning her head, or revealing any kind of expression that gives the viewing audience at home a clue as to her innermost thoughts with the exception of a very sharp and penetrating affection and devilishly delicious, malevolent and pleasurable, mischievously smile coming from her very luscious and very alluring lips while caressing his muscular chest with her fingers.
They became the very acceptance of the truth and the very existence of Eros, the mischievous god of love, a minion and constant companion of the goddess Aphrodite, that triumphed over Thanatos, a melancholy, brooding, individual, consumed with the curse of non-violent death while exuding a great amount of self-confident supermodel energy as they strike an arrogant and conceited supermodel pose that was bar none, second to none, within this cutthroat world of Action Wrestling.
He climbs aboard the sophisticated carbon fibre and premium Ducati Diavel 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin high performance motorcycle, with Marchesini wheels and and slick Zircotec-coated dual exhaust pipes and straddles the Vantablack dual leather.
Moments later, the immense and incredibly powerful distinct sound from a Ducati 1198cc Testastretta 11° Dual Spark V-twin world-beating engine can be heard coming to life and echoes throughout this very unknown and forbidden private sanctuary.
She swings and pirouettes her leg, with catlike precision, over the Ducati Diavel 240/45 ZR17 Pirelli Diablo Rosso II with Marchesini forged and machined, 8.00 x 17, 10-spokes tire and straddles the Vantablack dual leather seat behind him and wrapping her arms and legs around him like a Black Widow Spider.
He slowly looks into the camera at the viewing audience watching at home and double raises his eyebrows with an ice cold psychopathic stare radiating from his sparkling blue eyes as his patented malevolent, tight wolfish, whiplash smile, slowly appears on his lips showing off perfectly white even teeth on his chiseled fighter's face in a flamboyant, stylistic supermodel deus ex machina, shit-eating grin.
She pauses. Then...
She looks at the viewing audience at home with her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes and showing no emotion on her angelic looking face then slices her own throat from her left carotid artery to her right carotid artery with her right index finger and makes an imaginary blood explosion style gesture with her left hand.
Then...
She raises her iconic Ray-Ban Wayfarer sunglasses up her perfectly flawless nose on her angelic looking face while hiding her intoxicatingly, incandescent almond shaped green eyes with her middle finger.