Post by Raging Frank Lowe on Nov 24, 2020 1:01:41 GMT -5
“And you, Bull… What can I say except this: Jesus Christ, man. How many times can one man fail up?! I guess we’ll know the fuckin’ record when you FINALLY get the fucking hint and hang up your boots, Corey. Just look at yourself, man. You get off on creeping folks the fuck out and attempting to prey upon those who have won what you just wish you could win. When Lissie Hope held that All In case, you hunted that broad! When Carter snagged his All In case, you did the same thing to him! Corey, you’ve spent your whole fucking career in Action Wrestling just holding out your little bowl and saying ‘Please, sir, can I have just a crumb of a title? Just a wee morsel of championship glory?’ And the weirdest shit of it all is that I’d be willing to bet that no one in the history of this fucking company has had more title matches than you have, Bull. What do you have to show for it? JACK and SHIT, Bull. That’s fucking it. NOBODY gets in the ring more often than you with a championship on the line, and you’ve got fuck all to show for it. That’s gotta sting, right? I know you’ve started taking it out on people who are better than you with this ‘No More Nice Things’ horseshit, but how the fuck are you going to go on and on about that when you’ve never had a nice thing in this fucking company in the first place? Jesus, you big fuck, please try growing some fucking self-awareness. You can’t say NO MORE when you never had any in the first fucking place.”
Frank shakes his head dismissively.
“I get it though, Bull. You’ve deluded yourself into this self-aggrandizing perspective that says you’re some big bad ass who nobody would dare fuck with. But, Bull, that just ain’t you, big guy. I don’t care how many times you growl it into the ether. I don’t care how hard you wish yourself to be the biggest, baddest guy around. You’re just nothing special. Sure, you’re a big son-of-a-bitch. But that’s the end of where you stand out from the crowd, Bull. This ain’t APW or UCI or any other alphabet soup company where you’ve gathered accolades as if anyone in this company should even pretend that your resume matters. The Bull we all know and the Bull you wish we were always seeing are two completely different people. You see yourself as a tower of terror, Bull. We see you as the pitbull puppy that can’t do anything more than break some skin. Bull, you have yourself figured to be a epic, all-time great madman. You’re just desperate to be the bad guy. You want nothing more than to be Jason or Freddy Kreuger, but in reality, Bull, you’re more of a Sidney Prescot than a Ghostface.”
Frank smirks.
“You’re a survivor, Bull, sure. I’ll give you that. Not too many people in the world who can get tossed off a bridge, sink like the fucking titanic, and show up wet but no worse for wear not but a few days later. No one who takes the beatings you take and the career defining losses you take but ALWAYS comes back for more of the same can really be defined as anything more intimidating than a punching bag or a tackling dummy, Bull. But a survivor? That shit fits you like a glove. And honestly, when it comes to what’s going to happen at Turmoil, survivor is a hell of an important descriptor. You see, a guy like Raging Dead…needed to be a survivor, and he just wasn’t. A guy like Derrick Vayden...he may have physically survived, but he just pissed his psychological existence down the drain. Bull, you’ve got a leg up on those other deadbeats that tried to take me out of this game, but the problem that you’re not identifying when you refuse to accept that you are nothing beyond the physical manifestation of ego at the expense of everything that would otherwise mark rationality and reason… that problem is simple and clear: hubris is a bitch, Bull. And it’s going to bite you in the ass.”
“You’ve associated yourself with some fucking psycho woman who serves no greater purpose than to fluff you and tell you how great you are. You’ve got to see that she’s one of those things that holds you back, Bull. She’s killing you with flattery and kindness. Loa is ripping your heart out and throwing it on the ground, and you’re too stupid to realize it. She tells you everything you want to hear. Bull, I’m telling you what you need to hear. You need to hear your mediocre career is in the wind down. You need to hear that while you might always come back for more, at some point, it’s ok to just fucking stop doing that. You need to hear that you whatever you’re hoping for is a pipe dream, Bull. If you put all your fulfilled hopes in one hand and you shit directly into the other, one of your hands is gonna fill up a hell of a lot sooner.”
“Honestly, I feel like you have grown to let her do all your talking, because MAYBE there’s just a little bit more self-awareness than you’re letting on. Maybe Loa is your mouth piece, because you’ve lost the ability to put up with the bullshit that escapes over your lips and falls out of your mouth. Bull, it’s time to put up or shut up. After Turmoil, you’ll either be the man you’ve always been in Action Wrestling - the utter failure who gets far more opportunity than you’ve ever earned - or someone we’ve never seen before. My money’s on that same ol’ Bull, and I’ll be honest, I’m a damn good gambler, Corey. Let your girl’s lips flap, and I’ll just punch you straight in yours.”
Frank shakes his head dismissively.
“I get it though, Bull. You’ve deluded yourself into this self-aggrandizing perspective that says you’re some big bad ass who nobody would dare fuck with. But, Bull, that just ain’t you, big guy. I don’t care how many times you growl it into the ether. I don’t care how hard you wish yourself to be the biggest, baddest guy around. You’re just nothing special. Sure, you’re a big son-of-a-bitch. But that’s the end of where you stand out from the crowd, Bull. This ain’t APW or UCI or any other alphabet soup company where you’ve gathered accolades as if anyone in this company should even pretend that your resume matters. The Bull we all know and the Bull you wish we were always seeing are two completely different people. You see yourself as a tower of terror, Bull. We see you as the pitbull puppy that can’t do anything more than break some skin. Bull, you have yourself figured to be a epic, all-time great madman. You’re just desperate to be the bad guy. You want nothing more than to be Jason or Freddy Kreuger, but in reality, Bull, you’re more of a Sidney Prescot than a Ghostface.”
Frank smirks.
“You’re a survivor, Bull, sure. I’ll give you that. Not too many people in the world who can get tossed off a bridge, sink like the fucking titanic, and show up wet but no worse for wear not but a few days later. No one who takes the beatings you take and the career defining losses you take but ALWAYS comes back for more of the same can really be defined as anything more intimidating than a punching bag or a tackling dummy, Bull. But a survivor? That shit fits you like a glove. And honestly, when it comes to what’s going to happen at Turmoil, survivor is a hell of an important descriptor. You see, a guy like Raging Dead…needed to be a survivor, and he just wasn’t. A guy like Derrick Vayden...he may have physically survived, but he just pissed his psychological existence down the drain. Bull, you’ve got a leg up on those other deadbeats that tried to take me out of this game, but the problem that you’re not identifying when you refuse to accept that you are nothing beyond the physical manifestation of ego at the expense of everything that would otherwise mark rationality and reason… that problem is simple and clear: hubris is a bitch, Bull. And it’s going to bite you in the ass.”
“You’ve associated yourself with some fucking psycho woman who serves no greater purpose than to fluff you and tell you how great you are. You’ve got to see that she’s one of those things that holds you back, Bull. She’s killing you with flattery and kindness. Loa is ripping your heart out and throwing it on the ground, and you’re too stupid to realize it. She tells you everything you want to hear. Bull, I’m telling you what you need to hear. You need to hear your mediocre career is in the wind down. You need to hear that while you might always come back for more, at some point, it’s ok to just fucking stop doing that. You need to hear that you whatever you’re hoping for is a pipe dream, Bull. If you put all your fulfilled hopes in one hand and you shit directly into the other, one of your hands is gonna fill up a hell of a lot sooner.”
“Honestly, I feel like you have grown to let her do all your talking, because MAYBE there’s just a little bit more self-awareness than you’re letting on. Maybe Loa is your mouth piece, because you’ve lost the ability to put up with the bullshit that escapes over your lips and falls out of your mouth. Bull, it’s time to put up or shut up. After Turmoil, you’ll either be the man you’ve always been in Action Wrestling - the utter failure who gets far more opportunity than you’ve ever earned - or someone we’ve never seen before. My money’s on that same ol’ Bull, and I’ll be honest, I’m a damn good gambler, Corey. Let your girl’s lips flap, and I’ll just punch you straight in yours.”