Plettet Sjel Chapter XI: Wisdom and Sorrow
Nov 8, 2020 14:33:46 GMT -5
Carter Shaw, YŪREI, and 2 more like this
Post by Odin Balfore on Nov 8, 2020 14:33:46 GMT -5
A Timeless Warrior
The early elimination from the Turmoil tournament grated on the Norse Gods mind. In fact, a lot of things did. However, these are things that can and shall be fixed. What stuck with the All Father was Spencer Adams bringing up Adam Young, who as records show was more of a draw than Spencer could ever hope to be. Because champions are not from Gold. As Odin reflected back on this year he realized he was a timeless warrior in this time of instant gratification. Moreover, there is one thing that theses Millennial grapplers did not realize is that gratification works both ways
Sorrow and wisdom are bitter pills to swallow
And Action Wrestling was overdue to take its medicine.
World breaker Balfore was not finished.
_______________________________
Wisdom and Sorrow
At the Escobar Escobar Poon-National Airport, The All-Father looked on from the tarmac as Poon-Force 1 taxied from its hanger. His bags were packed for another week on the road and a match against Matthias Mintzel. His aviator shades darkened the world around him as his chest, arms, and thick bulged out of their respective seams, it seems. The All-Father sure up’d his stance by squaring his feet and crossing his arms over his chest. He craned his neck and spit out onto the asphalt.
Mintz,
Guys like me only come around every so often and yet everyone in this industry wants to be me. Have a career like mine, have strength like mine, mic skills like mine, and a finishing move like mine. Yet every week I get the same, boring, and tired tropes thrown my way. I am willing to bet that you are going to do the same. You can go ask World Champion Corey Black, my best friend and he shall tell you the same thing. CD can tell you that in a thousand people, he is the only one to have made it.
However, we didn’t make it. We didn’t survive. Our being here isn’t a matter of luck; it’s a matter of skill. See, we both ascended to where we are. The only difference is God is a moniker for Corey and a birthright for myself. Last week Corey talked about a myth in regard to my namesake. However, I am no myth. I am a descendant of Norse Gods. My uncles are Norse Gods and my current Arch Rival is Norse God Ullr as an international group of assassins hunts me down.
Mintzel, you are crumbs on the bathroom floor in some run-down dive bar across town. Yet here I am addressing you. Pure Champion. Bah. I took a piss last night that burned me harder than anything you could ever come up with on a meth-induced bender. So skip the heroic part of your soon to be coma and let’s just take a hot dose of the truth.
Semantic satiation, when something losses meaning over time. When Mintzel losses the one grasping hope that he has to defeat me at clash. Everyone wants to be the future but none of you fuccbois want to stick around long enough for the present.
Call it Ad hominem.
A fallacy of the career. A sickness of the mind.
I’m wary of the placation. Of weary of Action Wrestling trying to pluck the future from the weeds only to find specs of sand, grit, and pyrite.
A bit of fools gold for a fool’s errand.
And then, oh and then, I get to hear the reals sucking their own dicks for a two-year career.
Mintzel, you cant be Pure when you’re cut with baby food to stretch out the product.
Call it false prophets.
I’m a level of dominance boys like you only dream about. A level of success you only hear about. And a truth that boys like you only lie about.
Embellishment.
When I tell you that I have a thousand wins.
That's the truth.
When I tell you that I’m a 27 world title holder
That's the truth.
When I tell you that no one kicks out of Ragnarok
That's the truth.
And when I tell you, Mentzel that I’m going to rip you limb from limb
Call that shit LSD
Because it’s the fucking truth.
If you were smart, you wouldn’t show up to this fight.
My bags are packed. I’m ready for the road as I have been longer than the collective psyche has been ready to face seven AM. There are boys like you in Action Wrestling and then there are Gods like me. I hope you cling to your petty and meager accomplishments because I’m about to shit all over them.
You, Lowe, Spence, CD, FPV, Walter, and whoever the fuck else wants to get in my way. Call you the MandaWHOREian, because you’re about to take this dick for free.
This is the way.
I’m not sure if you ever got the shit kicked out of you in the Capital One Center but I plan on making quick, painful, and messy work of you. I gotta co to Wyoming and see a girl about a gun, fuck that bitch, and then kill her with said gun. But Shh, she don’t know that yet.
Ya know, I heard what you said to Norris. That thing you said about not liking to lose. A guess that's what counts as character development in this competitive sport.
Tort, stop the card., Matty Mintz don’t like losing. You’ve sat around your fucking studio apartment trying to get your dog to lick your nutz because you’re a bad man to be around. Give me a fucking break, you fuckin cryin ass, lyin ass cunt. You spent an awful amount of time trying to convince yourself that you are better than you really are.
Its a shame when a boy like you cant even beat himself in solitaire, if’n you get my drift.
And that was what, a month ago; so this is your return match. A return match against World Breaker Balfore. I'm sure you think that this is a joke but I assure you this is a fight yet unfinished.
But Jokes over, right?
LOL
Yah.
Jokes fuckin over.
I know you didnt come back for this but whores don’t get refunds and fuccbois get no mercy.
They just get what they fuckin deserve.
Wsidom and Sorrow
And tonight I intend on making you very wise
So I have Spoken, so it shall come to pass.