Post by SEAMAC on Nov 26, 2017 1:08:44 GMT -6
UCI
CIVIL WAR
ZOMBIE MCMORRIS
VS.
JACK SCHLONGSON
___________________________
CHAPTER 1: NUTTIN CIVIL ABOUT DIS’
UCI,
UCI I didn’t wana hav’tah do this to anybody but certain selfish fuck ups done did force the hands of this immortal coked up madman. They wanted this. They pushed me to this. All of this. They wanted to end me -> throw me out because they fear me. They know that they can handle guys like Bull and Jack and Diderot. They knew that Corey Black will laugh, get bored and slink on back to where he’s been livin’ breathin’ and dying tryin tah save. Those things all fit nicely into a contingency plan. You see, they got counter measures for counter measures as long as there is a semblance of predictability but there aint nothing predictable about Ol’ Z because as the saying goes -> you never know which ZMAC iz gonna show up. And you see-> they’ve been watchin’ ya boi. They been seein -> thinkin’ that ol’ Z been slipping. That he’s been on the down slide to nowhere and fast. They figured they’d strike while the irons hot. If we take out ol’ Z then there is no number one contender to Preecha. There is no one to stop Preecha or the rest of the Guardians. N’ so they conspireced against ya boi -> like the FGTs they really are cuz they cant come at cha boy face to face. They gotta do that shit all in secret N shit. But they knew. They wanted to test the waters N shit so they done sent out Damian Kaine. If’n he could do it great. If ol’ Z done cracked his skull open -> o well. They had an altah’nate. So we know that Damian Kaine was successful in tossin’ your boi into an a dark abyss from which he would never return -> like some sort of turtle in a trench coat being thrown into a dimensional portal of space and time.
But ya boi returned in a week. Like Ozzy at the Alamo -> was banned -> came back and then rocked the place. Damian Kaine -> now that’s a sad song if’n that boy could whistle LOL. Fuck him. I told them. The fuckin’ Guardians with the #HEEL_TURN. About to get fucked up from the flow up. About to reel and deal from the realest G in the fuckin room.
You all put yourselves in this position N’ now its just ZMAC that’s gone fuck you up. Its not about the belts. Its not about the top spot. Fuck, its not even about you tryin tah kill me. Hell, I’d try to kill me too if’n I knew I was after the world title. Truthfully I’m a man of principles. It’s the principle of the matter. You tried to do me dirty and in turn -> I’m going to steam roll the company.
Them the brakes.
Jack, nuttin personal but the personals. You just happen to be the guy. This ain’t a throw away match. You get the chance to beat ol’ Z and I -> well -> Ol’ Z gets to break ya neck. Fair trade really. You win twice -> really. Ol’ Z makes you look like a million bucks and you don’t even got to do nuttin but show up-> get cha neck Twisted and roll the fuck out of the ring. This isn’t about you son and I suggest you fuckin’ keep it that way. You know who Ol’ Z is and you know I’ll fight the fuckin fed head on all day every day and come out on top in one way or the other so don’t make this harder on yourself that it already has to fuckin’ be.
The Guardians kicked off this Civil War and that’s not a side you want to be on -> If’n you in the game of pickin’ sides. As far as I’m concerned, aint nobody safe from me. Now, I don’t know if Spencer Adams is going to hand ya boi any title shots ( LOL but he fuckin’ should ) but Ol’ Z is back on the market to collect them belts like burger king toys. I’m already first ballot hall of fame. I’m already the first Grand Slam champion and the world and the Guardians especially know that they should not anger this demi gawd but like so many Jews before them -> they just gotta push and see how far they can get. Well they fuckin’ saw that it aint too damn far and now they gotta pay for that shit with the blood of their assholes.
Monday night, Guardians the blood of Jack Schlongson is on your hands. I swear to all of you that I am going to down down every single talent on the roster until I’m once again a grand slam champion. I could say that we can do this the easy way or the hard way but ya’ll already did done seal UCIs fate with your unthick actions. UCI is going to see the real world champ in the ring but not when Preecha fights Black but when Jack falls to the hands of the Coked Up Mad Man.
Victims arnt you all.
_______________________________
CHAPTER 2: A FAMILIAR SEA BUT LONELY HORIZON
HELHIEM. Nov. 18
When ZMAC got to his destination he realized what the ferryman meant when he said ‘ you people.’ ZMAC saw hundreds of thousands of other Zombie McMorriss’ ( Morrisai? Cornucopia of coked up madmen? ) They all stood there clamoring and doing ZMAC things. Some looked slightly different, had different features, hair clothes -> real multi-verse type shit. A ways in the distance on top of a plateu there five other ZMACS. Our boi glared as he pulled out his golden crack berry to check the time.
It flashed at 47: 19. Just under two days left until he could return. Another ZMAC looked over at him and commented.
“ Yo, It’s ya boi ZMAC ‘@dirt_Mastah’ and let me tell you something, you aint going home like that. None of us are. You cant get sent back like that from down here.”
“So what are you fgts doin down here?” Asks our one true Z.
“Us, shee-it. We all got done dirty one way or the other; as all ZMACs do. Most of us got thrown into a Volcano by that rat bastid Bawby Kai-Jew. That guy over there, way down away from everyone, that’s ZMAC 3349; some jobbah named Daniman Kaine threw him into a pit. Fuckin piece of trash that guy. Claims it was story lined. Claims that it was gonna lead to a blood fued with a group called the guardians. But us ZMACs, we don’t go down like that. And yah, theres a few of us that died from that Kevin Nash Robot –“
“ You mean the Odinator?”
“Who the fucks that? Nah, Kevin Nash. The Basketball Player from Michigan. But I’m sorry bawse, I didn’t catch your name. What ZMAC are you?”
“I – I didn’t know there were multiples of me. But I can tell you all this right fuckin now –“
“Yah, yah.. you’re the realest G in the room. Aint we all. Now, you’re gonna wanna go in that line over there and get processed. They’ll record your twitter handle – that’s how we keep track of shit and then they’ll chip your hand.”
“You FGTs aint chipping nuttin.”
“Right, that’s what we all said. You wana get out of here this century then you need to get chipped. That’s what those guys up there are doing; trying to process everything out. They decide who goes back based on accomplishments, twitter handle and a bunch of other shit. They’re the order in the chaos. I heard that one time, ZMAC @hang_em_all, the guy up there – that he once had a one on one world title match. and won. “
“ He lost cuz he a limp dick faggot who aint THICK wid it. All this shit is a bunch of fucked up un-thick faggotry. I wouldn’t do any of this shit. If what you said is true and we gotta get out one at a time then we better be throwin the fuck down.”
“ I’m sorry dude, did you say Un-THICK? What- what is that?”
Our hero scowls. This certainly is hell but ya boi aint going out like that. That would mean Damian Kaine really did win and fuck that noise. If ZMAC has to live in a world where Damian Kaine gets the last laugh then that world better be made of fire and ash.. ZMAC looks around… And these faggot can keep that shit. ZMAC decides to skip all this unthick bullshit of chippin and giving twitter names. He aint about that life. ZMAC pushes forward past all the other shitty versions of him. The ones with overalls and hipster facial hair. The one with the queer hashtags. The ones on pinterest. The ones still using myspace. Hell, even the cool one using Fubar. Until a few get angry and protest.
“Hey! Whats your twitter handle, I’ll fuck you up. I’m Alpha_dawg187.” One yells.
“Fuck ya motha!” Yells our hero.
“Hey! That’s my twitter handle!”
“ Fuck your twitter handle and fuck you, Danny!” says ZMAC spitting in the direction of the commenter.
The entire crowd goes silent before talking among themselves. ZMAC @hang_em_all yells across the field from his high position.
“Who said? Who said the… ‘D’ Word.” Inquires @hang_em_all.
The group singles out our hero but Honey Badger aint givin a fuck and owns right up to it. “I did. Hell, we all did. Aint we all Danny? Daniel? Fuck, I know Loretta wanted to name us Doug so theres gotta be a doug in here.”
one lone voice speaks up. “ My names Doug.”
@hang_em_all isn’t impressed and scolds our hero. “ We do not use the ‘D’ word. That word is from before we ascended.”
“Ascended? Is that what you call this unthick faggotry? We ascended to fucking bureaucracy? Yo, which one of us didn’t die and made you leader? Cuz I sure as fuck didn’t.”
@hang_em_all sighs and motions to the crowd. “Take his Side Kick or his TxT and get his Twitter handle.”
“I’ll tell all you bitches right now. There aint enough of you to take my phone.”
Another Z tries to reach for it but ZMAC takes the phone and bombs like his name was White Steven -> fucking Randy Moss in the endzone… touch down.. right into a lava pit.
FLASH-> FORWARD.EXE. ZMAC and Doug are sitting at the bottom of a dirt pit looking up at the reddish brown sky.
“Man, I cant believe you destroyed your phone.” Says Doug.
“Shut up Doug.”
“ I mean, the phone is like scared. Like, its up there with our tobacco pipe and cloves.”
“You smoke tobacco and cloves?” Asks our hero.
“Well yah. We all do. What, you don’t?”
“ Sparklin’ Wiggle I aint smoked a clove since I shot out Lorettas cooch snatch.”
“Wait, you aint Straight Edge are you?” asks Doug.
“ I’m straight edge.” Says the other ZMAC in the group.
“Shut your fucking face, @clobbering_time. You aint even a Danny or a Doug. You’re a piece of shit named Phil and no one cares what you think.” He turns his attention back to our hero. “ So what do you do?”
“Anything.” Replies our hero. “I smoke, drink and huff anything. Gas, paint, glue, drain cleaner, asbestos. Crack.”
“ Sucks. Though. We aint going to be getting out. I’m starting to miss Ruby.”
“You got a Ruby? Shit, I got a Ruby too.”
“Yah, she’s something special. Mines blonde. big tits. Yours?”
“ Dyed dark red. Small tits.”
“She sounds nice.”
“Yah. She is.”
“ I cant wait to see her and go dancing again.”
“I cant wait to smash her again.” Remarks Ol’ Z.
“O, me and my Ruby don’t have sex. Shes too special for that..” Says D-MAC with pride.
“ Yah. She is special.”
“if I won the world title at Killing Floor in a place called UCI I was going to ask her to marry me but I doubt I’ll make it back in time.”
“ D-MAC, You never marry the poon.” Corrects ZMAC.
“She’s not poon. Shes Ruby and I love her. So fuck you @i_Got_no_twitter_Cuz_Ima_shithead.edu” DMAC is annoyed at the disrespect Ol’ Z is shownin him. He scoots over a few feet and takes out his IPhone XXX. He pops in his wireless ear buds and puts on some music.
“Whats your song.” Asks ZMAC.
DMAC cold shoulders him.
“Sorry Doug. I should know better than to cross the Ruby line. If’n I were you, Id have slit my throat for such things. Now whats your song.”
DMAC throws ZMAC one of his ear buds.
ZMACs eye tear up. DMAC had a strong a healthy relationship with his Ruby. It made Z miss her even more but that’s when he realized he had the chrono-dial in his pocket. He pulls it out and shows it to DMAC.
“Do you know what this is?”
“No? Is that a thermostat?”
“What If I told you I could get out of here and get to Ruby.”
“I’d say fuckin go for it. At least one of us would be able to.”
“You mean to say no one else has this?”
“No. No one walks around with a wall thermostat in their pocket.”
ZMAC jams the chrono-dial into his hand.
“That looks like it hurt.” Says DMAC.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to get Ruby.”
ZMAC pushes the chrono-dial and dissipates into cloud of vapor.
_____________________________
CHAPTER 3: RUBYS RESLOVE
Pantheon Tower- West. Nov. 17th
Ruby is soaking in the tub of ZMACS room. Lavender is heavy in the air. Pillar candles dot the room with relaxing and foreboding adornment. She’s drowning her sorrows in pot and champagne. A razor blade hangs off to the side of the tub. The final course. Ruby has one of their songs playing as she cries to herself, unsure how to reach ZMAC or if she’ll ever see him again.
The song and the sounds of her internal pain are interrupted as ZMAC arrives in the time stream. He cannot be seen as he is just passing through but can be felt. He changes the song on Rubys Spotify app.
Ruby tries to act tough and play it off.
“Alright, Southpaw. This is some queer shit, even for me.”
However, as the song goes along, Ruby breaks down. Somewhere, Bonnie Blue sheds an unexplained tear.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you’ll be back. Its been more than two days. I don’t know how to reach you and its killing me.” Ruby eyes the razor in the corner of her eye.
The tear running down her cheek is met with an invisible kiss.
“Alright asshole, here.” Ruby takes some shaving cream, squirts it into her hand and smears it on the wall. In real time words appears in the foam.
‘P.G.’
Pink Floyd returns to her playlist, signifying that ZMAC has left the time stream.
“I love you.” She whimpers. The kiss is enough to give Ruby some much needed resolve. Somewhere Bonnie whispers the same sentiment to herself.
______________________________________
CHAPTER 4: THE RESOLVE OF A MADMAN
The Chesapeake Energy Center. Present Day.
Dani Applegate, UCI interview sits with Ruby Red for a candid interview. Dani is wearing a nice navy blue colored dress with thin shoulder straps. Ruby is dressed in ripped jeans, black tank top and ZMACs leather jacket. They sit across from one another with the camera just over Dani’s left shoulder.
“ First off Ruby I just want to thank you for doing this interview with me. I know that it has been a rough couple of weeks. Also, aside from last weeks return match, no one in UCI has seen the Honey Badger. Do you have any insight for the fans at home?” Asks Dani.
“I – I don’t know. I don’t know where he is but I’m sure he’ll be back for his match at Civil War. He will only miss a match if he chooses too. Nothing on Earth or heaven above can keep him from doing what he wants. That’s what I love about him.” Replies Ruby.
“If I can, take me back to a few weeks ago when ZMAC was thrown into that hole in the Earth.”
“Nothing to talk about. Everything has already been said and truthfully that’s in the past. ZMAC is always looking to the future. To that next horizon. That’s what he lives and dies for. The next great challenge. Last week was last week and the Guardians know that they didn’t finish job. They know what hell that is going to bring not just them but everybody.”
“Then lets talk about this week. There are some in the back saying that ZMAC is scared of Jack Schlongson because he is unique like ZMAC in that they’re both charismatic people on the fringe of society.”
“First off, no one is like ZMAC. Not even Z’s own son Crow is like the Coked Up Madman; so lets get that straight. Second, what does the Honey Badger even have to fear? Jack isn’t charismatic, he’s bland. He’s flamboyant but he certainly isn’t charismatic. Not in the way that Ol’ Z is. If you want to compare them for being on the fringe, then its apples to oranges. ZMAC is counter culture. Jack is back ally Hollywood trash. It’s not even up for comparison or debate. You can learn everything about Jack just from watching movies like ‘ Santa Clause is Kumming in my Anus” and “Pushing Rope.” They were two terrible films with poor acting, effects and terrible money shots. I’ve seen better gay sex at Keith Urban concerts.”
“Did you just admit to watching men on men gay porn?”
“Dani, we’re woman. Who hasn’t nubbed the bean to that shit? Besides, Jack is a porn star right? Is, was, were? Who knows. Might as well get that shit right out in the open. Just like I’m telling the world that ol’ Z aint duckin’ or cuckin’ when it comes to his match at Civil War.”
“Then where has he been? Look, Ruby, someone has to call out ZMAC on this. He is a former world champion. He has to be held to a standard. I know that a new thing for you and him.”
“If you ever disrespect my man, I’ll rip your beating heart out of your chest and eat it. ZMAC has always prided himself not on your standards, or Spencers standards or the worlds- but his own. I know the concept of individuality is a foreign concept for you MILKs but having personal freedom is the most liberating thing a person can have. Certainly Jack knows nothing about that. There is a million Jacks in the gay porn world – do you think they miss him there? They don’t. You just dress another mid western twink up in some tranny make up and throw on a speedo and a feather boa and there you go – Jack Schlongson.
You see, the world gets guys like him from exactly the mindset of people like you. Jack is a some mid west, bible belt, closeted little ball of fury and hate – signifying nothing – because he is nothing. Just like thousands of other teen boys, he was confused and heart broken inside at a young age because the thought of finger banging Mary Jane Rotten Crotch through her pretty pink panties wasn’t a fantasy that he could relate to. Instead he thought about Johnny Jones railing his butthole outside of a Sip and Go gas station. Like, I get it. That’s cool but not in Ohio. That’s not cool in Montana or Indiana or wherever because he certainly isn’t from My wildest Dreams, California.
I mean, if you want to call shit out for being fakes and frauds and being scared. Lets do that. But lets start with Jack. Lets start with the man who may or may not have been introduced to butt stuff at a young age by an uncle. Who may or may not have had an overly aggressive father. Whose mother coddled him too much or disowned him because the good lord don’t make the queers. Or whatever. You know how that goes. So what happens; this sexually confused boy who probably did well in school and was on a sports team felt rejected and was rejected – who are kidding – then left home as soon as he could afford a bus ticket out of ‘ Die Ten Miles from where you were Born’ Indiana. Then boom, he’s got this new life in this ultra progressive state, in this hip town and he needs work. Now he’s young, he’s cute, he’s got a good ass -> gets lured into gay porn for some quick cash and ends up liking it. Nothing wrong with that. However, what is wrong is that – that’s the same story for ninety-six precent of those guys in that industry. Just like Z says about guys in this industry. They’re all orphans or they love pain or they’re psycho or they’re billionaire Bruce Waynes by twenty two but like to wrestle because they think Christian Gray is a sympathetic character that will get them loose pussy – it won’t.
And again, if we’re being honest, lets continue to be honest. When I tell you that of that ninety-eight percent of the wrestling world that’s like that; ninety-six percent amount to nothing. Now you want to cross over that same sob story that Jack can give you about his life but mix in a little glitz from Hollywood because Joe-Bob Ray Mills is a shit name for wrestling. He’s going to walk into UCI with a tenth grade education from James Earl Ray High and three weeks on the football practice squad. Maybe he sent three Kay getting trained in one ring in some warehouse at the end of an industrial park. That’s bland. That’s boring. But to come over as this mega awesome porn star -> now that might give you an edge but truthfully it doesn’t change who Jack is deep down or where he came from -> where he really -> truly -> came from. Just another hick town. Another good ol’ boy. Except this good ol’ boy like to suck dick. I suck a mean dick -> do I deserve a medal? Fuck yah I do but you don’t see me crying about it. You don’t see me running off to Hollywood to eat bush just to get some hollow recognition from some suite because my daddy wouldn’t give it to me. What about you, Dani? Do you suck a mean dick? Do you deserve a medal in the cock sucking Olympics? “
“Well I –“
“The answers is no. No you don’t. Shit girl, I heard the stories. You’re one of those mouth on the head, hand on the shaft type bitches. Suckin’ it like its gonna grow fangs and bite chu. You don’t deserve one just like Jack don’t deserve one. He may have put in quality work here at UCI once upon a time ago but not no more. Theres no style. No substance. He’s just trying to hold on to that feather boa gimmick he got going on. He’s trying to hold onto what he got. I mean, I get it. With ZMAC roaming around, I’d be afraid of that top spot too. That’s why Jack ain’t doing much around here but you wana talk like Ol’ Z is scared N’ shit. Its Jack whose afraid. Its Jack who don’t none of my man. Jack is what, fourteen and two and aint done nuttin with it but the nuttin on his own damn face. I’m glad in the world of Jack Schlongson, fourteen and two can get you a TV title and redacted tag team championship.
That’s the kind of greatness that Jack has. I know people are intimidated by him much in the way the people don’t know how to handle ol Z but you see, Jack cant and won’t capitalize on his success. He knows that once he’s out of that TV title range of talent -> that lower card talent that he will be exposed- > just as I exposed him now. Then everything that he has worked hard for means nothing and then he’s got to go back to making gay porn and getting fissures repaired in his small intestine.
So I got a little something for Jack. That fear that you harbor in your heart about being a failure and being exposed -> you’ll get a taste of that at Civil War when my man rips you a new AXE WOUND. When my man rips a hole in your spleen from your backdoor cock sock. You might think you got something to gain from being ZMAC on Monday night but the world knows that you really rather not too. That just mean you move up the hard and you don’t want to be exposed by Sam Kidsgrove or L. Varez or heaven forbid, Shadowlove. You just sit pretty with your terrible eye shadow job like Helen Keller is your stylist and you wait for the next rook to walk through the door so you can tickle their asshole with your Logan-esque wana be persona. Pft, and like Logan, we’ve all seen your cock and like Logan we aint impressed. Not by your dick, not by your personality and certainly not by your ring work. My man is going to wrestle circles around you. Then he’s going to fight you. And then..
ZMACS.
Gonna.
Kill.
You.
And when you ship off to cocksville USA, you can send my sister Bonnie a thank you card because all of this -> has her name and shitty ass planning all over it. Because there is a big difference between my man and you. A big -> worlds apart kinda difference between Zombie McMorris and Jack Schlongson. You see, when you face adversity-> you run away. You hop on a bus, a train, a plane, an automobile -> hell you’ll sell shower rings to old ladies to just get that ticket outta dodge. My man, the real world champion of UCI -> ZMAC. Well, ZMACs a fighter. If someone wants to keep ZMAC down -> well fuck you -> you better kill him. When my man faces adversity and obstacles, he’s head on, head strong with feet and fists first. He’s going to make whoever -> or whatever -> regret the choices that they made to put ZMAC into that position.
But you? Jack you just skip town -> suck dick and pretend like life aint life.
ZMACS a fighter. You’re a FGT. ZMAC is strong, fearless, confident and damn proud. No one can say the same about you, Jack. Quite frankly, you’re weak, scared, cowardly and self-loathing. Nothing proud about running away from your problems. But hey, that’s just another day in the like of super mega star, Jack Schlongson. You deserve an award. Monday night you’ll get your prize. However, you may not like it. I know it isn’t want you wanted but its one you deserve. You deserve to know -> to face the truth that you are not in the league of Zombie McMorris that he will forever be above you and above everyone in this company -> no matter how much the scared peons want to hold him down. The more they try to hold him down the harder he fights and the harder he fights everyone.
When he gets back to this side of the world and its him in this jacket instead of me and its him tearing into guys on the mic instead of me-> all of UCI will know whats up. They’ll know that they done goofed and that Zombie McMorris will be a two time grandslam champion sooner rather than later. Its funny how Spencer Adams, the straight Savage calls this pay per view ‘Civil War’ and how litteral The guardians are trying to take it. Guess how literal ZMAC takes the term genocide and scorched Earth. If any one is will to venture a guess or thinks that my man is playing -> please -> feel free to step into the ring with him. Get your wrektum Z-Wrekt and become just another victim. Or after Monday night -> get straight Jack’d and Schlongon’d because this is going to be an absolute massacre of epic proportions.
And you Jack. You mean less than nothing to ol’ Z. You are just in his way. But then again, so isn’t everybody. However, they just choose to be there. If I were you Jackie, I’d move. I’d take a page out of Damian Kaines book and not show up. Why make it worse on yourself. Why make it harder on yourself when it doesn’t have to be. I know it must be strange to hear someone completely dismantle you and this persona that you have built up over the years. I’m sure you half expected ZMAC to come out and call you a homo FGT and be done with it. You could side step all that easy but Ruby -> his bottom bitch -> his manager-> coming out and striping you down for the world to see -> something you never saw k-k-k-kumming. But like all girls, you never truly see us cumming. All you see is the face we put on. The moans we feed you to feel better and the lies we tell you. Oh, we know, Jack. We you know ‘it ‘ never happened before. We know that you swear you’re never like this. Do you need me to sing you America the Beautiful so you don’t dump your load too quic? I know my pussys tight. I know that its wet-> thank you very much.
We know, Jack. We know all about you and the not so dirty secrets that you keep. We know that you hate who you are, where you came from and where you’re going. Truthfully speaking you hate that you were a nobody, still are a nobody and are going nowhere expect for the three buck a pump barrel at the smut shop. Don’t you try and tell you me that you’re special, Jackie. You ain’t special. ‘Special’ is what parents call their children when their disappointed. Truthfully if I had a son and he turned out like you, I’d be disappointed too. But ol’ Z, theres nothing to be disappointed about. You know exactly which Z you’re getting. The kind on a mission. The kind with resolve. The kind with grit, daring and determination. The kind of ferocity that’s a complete fucking nightmare for people like you. You’re not determined, you’re just foolish.
Monday night when you step in that ring with The Coked Up Mad Man and you stare into those cold yellow eyes, like a dolls eyes… you’ll know that every word that I have told you today is one hundred percent true. You’ll know it immediately. All those weekly awards you get. The promos, the matches… ZMAC would best you and beat anytime he damn well wants. Soon the world will once again forget about Jackie Schlongson and that is such a miserable place for you. However, the world does not forget about ol’ Z. The world does not forget because the world does not forget greatness.
It just forgets faggots. N’ when Zombie McMorris is choking you out in the middle of that ring and you’re wearing that crimson mask and you can taste it on your teeth and he’s just there, laughing and enjoying it -> humiliating you -> poking and prodding you -> stomping your sad little guts in -> and your teeth are in your stomach and theres blood sticking to your ribs. And the fading consciousness waxes from your collective soul as he hits you with that Dove Killah and you're just bearly alive enough to know you aint breathing and that ref counts the three and your career is over in an instant for somebody elses war.... you’ll know that you made the wrong choice to get back in this industry.
HIS INDUSTRY.
And the company whose entire existence hinges on his family name.
You, Jackie, will be no more.
SURVIVE. IF HE LETS YOU.
CIVIL WAR
ZOMBIE MCMORRIS
VS.
JACK SCHLONGSON
___________________________
CHAPTER 1: NUTTIN CIVIL ABOUT DIS’
UCI,
UCI I didn’t wana hav’tah do this to anybody but certain selfish fuck ups done did force the hands of this immortal coked up madman. They wanted this. They pushed me to this. All of this. They wanted to end me -> throw me out because they fear me. They know that they can handle guys like Bull and Jack and Diderot. They knew that Corey Black will laugh, get bored and slink on back to where he’s been livin’ breathin’ and dying tryin tah save. Those things all fit nicely into a contingency plan. You see, they got counter measures for counter measures as long as there is a semblance of predictability but there aint nothing predictable about Ol’ Z because as the saying goes -> you never know which ZMAC iz gonna show up. And you see-> they’ve been watchin’ ya boi. They been seein -> thinkin’ that ol’ Z been slipping. That he’s been on the down slide to nowhere and fast. They figured they’d strike while the irons hot. If we take out ol’ Z then there is no number one contender to Preecha. There is no one to stop Preecha or the rest of the Guardians. N’ so they conspireced against ya boi -> like the FGTs they really are cuz they cant come at cha boy face to face. They gotta do that shit all in secret N shit. But they knew. They wanted to test the waters N shit so they done sent out Damian Kaine. If’n he could do it great. If ol’ Z done cracked his skull open -> o well. They had an altah’nate. So we know that Damian Kaine was successful in tossin’ your boi into an a dark abyss from which he would never return -> like some sort of turtle in a trench coat being thrown into a dimensional portal of space and time.
But ya boi returned in a week. Like Ozzy at the Alamo -> was banned -> came back and then rocked the place. Damian Kaine -> now that’s a sad song if’n that boy could whistle LOL. Fuck him. I told them. The fuckin’ Guardians with the #HEEL_TURN. About to get fucked up from the flow up. About to reel and deal from the realest G in the fuckin room.
You all put yourselves in this position N’ now its just ZMAC that’s gone fuck you up. Its not about the belts. Its not about the top spot. Fuck, its not even about you tryin tah kill me. Hell, I’d try to kill me too if’n I knew I was after the world title. Truthfully I’m a man of principles. It’s the principle of the matter. You tried to do me dirty and in turn -> I’m going to steam roll the company.
Them the brakes.
Jack, nuttin personal but the personals. You just happen to be the guy. This ain’t a throw away match. You get the chance to beat ol’ Z and I -> well -> Ol’ Z gets to break ya neck. Fair trade really. You win twice -> really. Ol’ Z makes you look like a million bucks and you don’t even got to do nuttin but show up-> get cha neck Twisted and roll the fuck out of the ring. This isn’t about you son and I suggest you fuckin’ keep it that way. You know who Ol’ Z is and you know I’ll fight the fuckin fed head on all day every day and come out on top in one way or the other so don’t make this harder on yourself that it already has to fuckin’ be.
The Guardians kicked off this Civil War and that’s not a side you want to be on -> If’n you in the game of pickin’ sides. As far as I’m concerned, aint nobody safe from me. Now, I don’t know if Spencer Adams is going to hand ya boi any title shots ( LOL but he fuckin’ should ) but Ol’ Z is back on the market to collect them belts like burger king toys. I’m already first ballot hall of fame. I’m already the first Grand Slam champion and the world and the Guardians especially know that they should not anger this demi gawd but like so many Jews before them -> they just gotta push and see how far they can get. Well they fuckin’ saw that it aint too damn far and now they gotta pay for that shit with the blood of their assholes.
Monday night, Guardians the blood of Jack Schlongson is on your hands. I swear to all of you that I am going to down down every single talent on the roster until I’m once again a grand slam champion. I could say that we can do this the easy way or the hard way but ya’ll already did done seal UCIs fate with your unthick actions. UCI is going to see the real world champ in the ring but not when Preecha fights Black but when Jack falls to the hands of the Coked Up Mad Man.
Victims arnt you all.
_______________________________
CHAPTER 2: A FAMILIAR SEA BUT LONELY HORIZON
HELHIEM. Nov. 18
When ZMAC got to his destination he realized what the ferryman meant when he said ‘ you people.’ ZMAC saw hundreds of thousands of other Zombie McMorriss’ ( Morrisai? Cornucopia of coked up madmen? ) They all stood there clamoring and doing ZMAC things. Some looked slightly different, had different features, hair clothes -> real multi-verse type shit. A ways in the distance on top of a plateu there five other ZMACS. Our boi glared as he pulled out his golden crack berry to check the time.
It flashed at 47: 19. Just under two days left until he could return. Another ZMAC looked over at him and commented.
“ Yo, It’s ya boi ZMAC ‘@dirt_Mastah’ and let me tell you something, you aint going home like that. None of us are. You cant get sent back like that from down here.”
“So what are you fgts doin down here?” Asks our one true Z.
“Us, shee-it. We all got done dirty one way or the other; as all ZMACs do. Most of us got thrown into a Volcano by that rat bastid Bawby Kai-Jew. That guy over there, way down away from everyone, that’s ZMAC 3349; some jobbah named Daniman Kaine threw him into a pit. Fuckin piece of trash that guy. Claims it was story lined. Claims that it was gonna lead to a blood fued with a group called the guardians. But us ZMACs, we don’t go down like that. And yah, theres a few of us that died from that Kevin Nash Robot –“
“ You mean the Odinator?”
“Who the fucks that? Nah, Kevin Nash. The Basketball Player from Michigan. But I’m sorry bawse, I didn’t catch your name. What ZMAC are you?”
“I – I didn’t know there were multiples of me. But I can tell you all this right fuckin now –“
“Yah, yah.. you’re the realest G in the room. Aint we all. Now, you’re gonna wanna go in that line over there and get processed. They’ll record your twitter handle – that’s how we keep track of shit and then they’ll chip your hand.”
“You FGTs aint chipping nuttin.”
“Right, that’s what we all said. You wana get out of here this century then you need to get chipped. That’s what those guys up there are doing; trying to process everything out. They decide who goes back based on accomplishments, twitter handle and a bunch of other shit. They’re the order in the chaos. I heard that one time, ZMAC @hang_em_all, the guy up there – that he once had a one on one world title match. and won. “
“ He lost cuz he a limp dick faggot who aint THICK wid it. All this shit is a bunch of fucked up un-thick faggotry. I wouldn’t do any of this shit. If what you said is true and we gotta get out one at a time then we better be throwin the fuck down.”
“ I’m sorry dude, did you say Un-THICK? What- what is that?”
Our hero scowls. This certainly is hell but ya boi aint going out like that. That would mean Damian Kaine really did win and fuck that noise. If ZMAC has to live in a world where Damian Kaine gets the last laugh then that world better be made of fire and ash.. ZMAC looks around… And these faggot can keep that shit. ZMAC decides to skip all this unthick bullshit of chippin and giving twitter names. He aint about that life. ZMAC pushes forward past all the other shitty versions of him. The ones with overalls and hipster facial hair. The one with the queer hashtags. The ones on pinterest. The ones still using myspace. Hell, even the cool one using Fubar. Until a few get angry and protest.
“Hey! Whats your twitter handle, I’ll fuck you up. I’m Alpha_dawg187.” One yells.
“Fuck ya motha!” Yells our hero.
“Hey! That’s my twitter handle!”
“ Fuck your twitter handle and fuck you, Danny!” says ZMAC spitting in the direction of the commenter.
The entire crowd goes silent before talking among themselves. ZMAC @hang_em_all yells across the field from his high position.
“Who said? Who said the… ‘D’ Word.” Inquires @hang_em_all.
The group singles out our hero but Honey Badger aint givin a fuck and owns right up to it. “I did. Hell, we all did. Aint we all Danny? Daniel? Fuck, I know Loretta wanted to name us Doug so theres gotta be a doug in here.”
one lone voice speaks up. “ My names Doug.”
@hang_em_all isn’t impressed and scolds our hero. “ We do not use the ‘D’ word. That word is from before we ascended.”
“Ascended? Is that what you call this unthick faggotry? We ascended to fucking bureaucracy? Yo, which one of us didn’t die and made you leader? Cuz I sure as fuck didn’t.”
@hang_em_all sighs and motions to the crowd. “Take his Side Kick or his TxT and get his Twitter handle.”
“I’ll tell all you bitches right now. There aint enough of you to take my phone.”
Another Z tries to reach for it but ZMAC takes the phone and bombs like his name was White Steven -> fucking Randy Moss in the endzone… touch down.. right into a lava pit.
FLASH-> FORWARD.EXE. ZMAC and Doug are sitting at the bottom of a dirt pit looking up at the reddish brown sky.
“Man, I cant believe you destroyed your phone.” Says Doug.
“Shut up Doug.”
“ I mean, the phone is like scared. Like, its up there with our tobacco pipe and cloves.”
“You smoke tobacco and cloves?” Asks our hero.
“Well yah. We all do. What, you don’t?”
“ Sparklin’ Wiggle I aint smoked a clove since I shot out Lorettas cooch snatch.”
“Wait, you aint Straight Edge are you?” asks Doug.
“ I’m straight edge.” Says the other ZMAC in the group.
“Shut your fucking face, @clobbering_time. You aint even a Danny or a Doug. You’re a piece of shit named Phil and no one cares what you think.” He turns his attention back to our hero. “ So what do you do?”
“Anything.” Replies our hero. “I smoke, drink and huff anything. Gas, paint, glue, drain cleaner, asbestos. Crack.”
“ Sucks. Though. We aint going to be getting out. I’m starting to miss Ruby.”
“You got a Ruby? Shit, I got a Ruby too.”
“Yah, she’s something special. Mines blonde. big tits. Yours?”
“ Dyed dark red. Small tits.”
“She sounds nice.”
“Yah. She is.”
“ I cant wait to see her and go dancing again.”
“I cant wait to smash her again.” Remarks Ol’ Z.
“O, me and my Ruby don’t have sex. Shes too special for that..” Says D-MAC with pride.
“ Yah. She is special.”
“if I won the world title at Killing Floor in a place called UCI I was going to ask her to marry me but I doubt I’ll make it back in time.”
“ D-MAC, You never marry the poon.” Corrects ZMAC.
“She’s not poon. Shes Ruby and I love her. So fuck you @i_Got_no_twitter_Cuz_Ima_shithead.edu” DMAC is annoyed at the disrespect Ol’ Z is shownin him. He scoots over a few feet and takes out his IPhone XXX. He pops in his wireless ear buds and puts on some music.
“Whats your song.” Asks ZMAC.
DMAC cold shoulders him.
“Sorry Doug. I should know better than to cross the Ruby line. If’n I were you, Id have slit my throat for such things. Now whats your song.”
DMAC throws ZMAC one of his ear buds.
ZMACs eye tear up. DMAC had a strong a healthy relationship with his Ruby. It made Z miss her even more but that’s when he realized he had the chrono-dial in his pocket. He pulls it out and shows it to DMAC.
“Do you know what this is?”
“No? Is that a thermostat?”
“What If I told you I could get out of here and get to Ruby.”
“I’d say fuckin go for it. At least one of us would be able to.”
“You mean to say no one else has this?”
“No. No one walks around with a wall thermostat in their pocket.”
ZMAC jams the chrono-dial into his hand.
“That looks like it hurt.” Says DMAC.
“I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to get Ruby.”
ZMAC pushes the chrono-dial and dissipates into cloud of vapor.
_____________________________
CHAPTER 3: RUBYS RESLOVE
Pantheon Tower- West. Nov. 17th
Ruby is soaking in the tub of ZMACS room. Lavender is heavy in the air. Pillar candles dot the room with relaxing and foreboding adornment. She’s drowning her sorrows in pot and champagne. A razor blade hangs off to the side of the tub. The final course. Ruby has one of their songs playing as she cries to herself, unsure how to reach ZMAC or if she’ll ever see him again.
The song and the sounds of her internal pain are interrupted as ZMAC arrives in the time stream. He cannot be seen as he is just passing through but can be felt. He changes the song on Rubys Spotify app.
Ruby tries to act tough and play it off.
“Alright, Southpaw. This is some queer shit, even for me.”
However, as the song goes along, Ruby breaks down. Somewhere, Bonnie Blue sheds an unexplained tear.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you’ll be back. Its been more than two days. I don’t know how to reach you and its killing me.” Ruby eyes the razor in the corner of her eye.
The tear running down her cheek is met with an invisible kiss.
“Alright asshole, here.” Ruby takes some shaving cream, squirts it into her hand and smears it on the wall. In real time words appears in the foam.
‘P.G.’
Pink Floyd returns to her playlist, signifying that ZMAC has left the time stream.
“I love you.” She whimpers. The kiss is enough to give Ruby some much needed resolve. Somewhere Bonnie whispers the same sentiment to herself.
______________________________________
CHAPTER 4: THE RESOLVE OF A MADMAN
The Chesapeake Energy Center. Present Day.
Dani Applegate, UCI interview sits with Ruby Red for a candid interview. Dani is wearing a nice navy blue colored dress with thin shoulder straps. Ruby is dressed in ripped jeans, black tank top and ZMACs leather jacket. They sit across from one another with the camera just over Dani’s left shoulder.
“ First off Ruby I just want to thank you for doing this interview with me. I know that it has been a rough couple of weeks. Also, aside from last weeks return match, no one in UCI has seen the Honey Badger. Do you have any insight for the fans at home?” Asks Dani.
“I – I don’t know. I don’t know where he is but I’m sure he’ll be back for his match at Civil War. He will only miss a match if he chooses too. Nothing on Earth or heaven above can keep him from doing what he wants. That’s what I love about him.” Replies Ruby.
“If I can, take me back to a few weeks ago when ZMAC was thrown into that hole in the Earth.”
“Nothing to talk about. Everything has already been said and truthfully that’s in the past. ZMAC is always looking to the future. To that next horizon. That’s what he lives and dies for. The next great challenge. Last week was last week and the Guardians know that they didn’t finish job. They know what hell that is going to bring not just them but everybody.”
“Then lets talk about this week. There are some in the back saying that ZMAC is scared of Jack Schlongson because he is unique like ZMAC in that they’re both charismatic people on the fringe of society.”
“First off, no one is like ZMAC. Not even Z’s own son Crow is like the Coked Up Madman; so lets get that straight. Second, what does the Honey Badger even have to fear? Jack isn’t charismatic, he’s bland. He’s flamboyant but he certainly isn’t charismatic. Not in the way that Ol’ Z is. If you want to compare them for being on the fringe, then its apples to oranges. ZMAC is counter culture. Jack is back ally Hollywood trash. It’s not even up for comparison or debate. You can learn everything about Jack just from watching movies like ‘ Santa Clause is Kumming in my Anus” and “Pushing Rope.” They were two terrible films with poor acting, effects and terrible money shots. I’ve seen better gay sex at Keith Urban concerts.”
“Did you just admit to watching men on men gay porn?”
“Dani, we’re woman. Who hasn’t nubbed the bean to that shit? Besides, Jack is a porn star right? Is, was, were? Who knows. Might as well get that shit right out in the open. Just like I’m telling the world that ol’ Z aint duckin’ or cuckin’ when it comes to his match at Civil War.”
“Then where has he been? Look, Ruby, someone has to call out ZMAC on this. He is a former world champion. He has to be held to a standard. I know that a new thing for you and him.”
“If you ever disrespect my man, I’ll rip your beating heart out of your chest and eat it. ZMAC has always prided himself not on your standards, or Spencers standards or the worlds- but his own. I know the concept of individuality is a foreign concept for you MILKs but having personal freedom is the most liberating thing a person can have. Certainly Jack knows nothing about that. There is a million Jacks in the gay porn world – do you think they miss him there? They don’t. You just dress another mid western twink up in some tranny make up and throw on a speedo and a feather boa and there you go – Jack Schlongson.
You see, the world gets guys like him from exactly the mindset of people like you. Jack is a some mid west, bible belt, closeted little ball of fury and hate – signifying nothing – because he is nothing. Just like thousands of other teen boys, he was confused and heart broken inside at a young age because the thought of finger banging Mary Jane Rotten Crotch through her pretty pink panties wasn’t a fantasy that he could relate to. Instead he thought about Johnny Jones railing his butthole outside of a Sip and Go gas station. Like, I get it. That’s cool but not in Ohio. That’s not cool in Montana or Indiana or wherever because he certainly isn’t from My wildest Dreams, California.
I mean, if you want to call shit out for being fakes and frauds and being scared. Lets do that. But lets start with Jack. Lets start with the man who may or may not have been introduced to butt stuff at a young age by an uncle. Who may or may not have had an overly aggressive father. Whose mother coddled him too much or disowned him because the good lord don’t make the queers. Or whatever. You know how that goes. So what happens; this sexually confused boy who probably did well in school and was on a sports team felt rejected and was rejected – who are kidding – then left home as soon as he could afford a bus ticket out of ‘ Die Ten Miles from where you were Born’ Indiana. Then boom, he’s got this new life in this ultra progressive state, in this hip town and he needs work. Now he’s young, he’s cute, he’s got a good ass -> gets lured into gay porn for some quick cash and ends up liking it. Nothing wrong with that. However, what is wrong is that – that’s the same story for ninety-six precent of those guys in that industry. Just like Z says about guys in this industry. They’re all orphans or they love pain or they’re psycho or they’re billionaire Bruce Waynes by twenty two but like to wrestle because they think Christian Gray is a sympathetic character that will get them loose pussy – it won’t.
And again, if we’re being honest, lets continue to be honest. When I tell you that of that ninety-eight percent of the wrestling world that’s like that; ninety-six percent amount to nothing. Now you want to cross over that same sob story that Jack can give you about his life but mix in a little glitz from Hollywood because Joe-Bob Ray Mills is a shit name for wrestling. He’s going to walk into UCI with a tenth grade education from James Earl Ray High and three weeks on the football practice squad. Maybe he sent three Kay getting trained in one ring in some warehouse at the end of an industrial park. That’s bland. That’s boring. But to come over as this mega awesome porn star -> now that might give you an edge but truthfully it doesn’t change who Jack is deep down or where he came from -> where he really -> truly -> came from. Just another hick town. Another good ol’ boy. Except this good ol’ boy like to suck dick. I suck a mean dick -> do I deserve a medal? Fuck yah I do but you don’t see me crying about it. You don’t see me running off to Hollywood to eat bush just to get some hollow recognition from some suite because my daddy wouldn’t give it to me. What about you, Dani? Do you suck a mean dick? Do you deserve a medal in the cock sucking Olympics? “
“Well I –“
“The answers is no. No you don’t. Shit girl, I heard the stories. You’re one of those mouth on the head, hand on the shaft type bitches. Suckin’ it like its gonna grow fangs and bite chu. You don’t deserve one just like Jack don’t deserve one. He may have put in quality work here at UCI once upon a time ago but not no more. Theres no style. No substance. He’s just trying to hold on to that feather boa gimmick he got going on. He’s trying to hold onto what he got. I mean, I get it. With ZMAC roaming around, I’d be afraid of that top spot too. That’s why Jack ain’t doing much around here but you wana talk like Ol’ Z is scared N’ shit. Its Jack whose afraid. Its Jack who don’t none of my man. Jack is what, fourteen and two and aint done nuttin with it but the nuttin on his own damn face. I’m glad in the world of Jack Schlongson, fourteen and two can get you a TV title and redacted tag team championship.
That’s the kind of greatness that Jack has. I know people are intimidated by him much in the way the people don’t know how to handle ol Z but you see, Jack cant and won’t capitalize on his success. He knows that once he’s out of that TV title range of talent -> that lower card talent that he will be exposed- > just as I exposed him now. Then everything that he has worked hard for means nothing and then he’s got to go back to making gay porn and getting fissures repaired in his small intestine.
So I got a little something for Jack. That fear that you harbor in your heart about being a failure and being exposed -> you’ll get a taste of that at Civil War when my man rips you a new AXE WOUND. When my man rips a hole in your spleen from your backdoor cock sock. You might think you got something to gain from being ZMAC on Monday night but the world knows that you really rather not too. That just mean you move up the hard and you don’t want to be exposed by Sam Kidsgrove or L. Varez or heaven forbid, Shadowlove. You just sit pretty with your terrible eye shadow job like Helen Keller is your stylist and you wait for the next rook to walk through the door so you can tickle their asshole with your Logan-esque wana be persona. Pft, and like Logan, we’ve all seen your cock and like Logan we aint impressed. Not by your dick, not by your personality and certainly not by your ring work. My man is going to wrestle circles around you. Then he’s going to fight you. And then..
ZMACS.
Gonna.
Kill.
You.
And when you ship off to cocksville USA, you can send my sister Bonnie a thank you card because all of this -> has her name and shitty ass planning all over it. Because there is a big difference between my man and you. A big -> worlds apart kinda difference between Zombie McMorris and Jack Schlongson. You see, when you face adversity-> you run away. You hop on a bus, a train, a plane, an automobile -> hell you’ll sell shower rings to old ladies to just get that ticket outta dodge. My man, the real world champion of UCI -> ZMAC. Well, ZMACs a fighter. If someone wants to keep ZMAC down -> well fuck you -> you better kill him. When my man faces adversity and obstacles, he’s head on, head strong with feet and fists first. He’s going to make whoever -> or whatever -> regret the choices that they made to put ZMAC into that position.
But you? Jack you just skip town -> suck dick and pretend like life aint life.
ZMACS a fighter. You’re a FGT. ZMAC is strong, fearless, confident and damn proud. No one can say the same about you, Jack. Quite frankly, you’re weak, scared, cowardly and self-loathing. Nothing proud about running away from your problems. But hey, that’s just another day in the like of super mega star, Jack Schlongson. You deserve an award. Monday night you’ll get your prize. However, you may not like it. I know it isn’t want you wanted but its one you deserve. You deserve to know -> to face the truth that you are not in the league of Zombie McMorris that he will forever be above you and above everyone in this company -> no matter how much the scared peons want to hold him down. The more they try to hold him down the harder he fights and the harder he fights everyone.
When he gets back to this side of the world and its him in this jacket instead of me and its him tearing into guys on the mic instead of me-> all of UCI will know whats up. They’ll know that they done goofed and that Zombie McMorris will be a two time grandslam champion sooner rather than later. Its funny how Spencer Adams, the straight Savage calls this pay per view ‘Civil War’ and how litteral The guardians are trying to take it. Guess how literal ZMAC takes the term genocide and scorched Earth. If any one is will to venture a guess or thinks that my man is playing -> please -> feel free to step into the ring with him. Get your wrektum Z-Wrekt and become just another victim. Or after Monday night -> get straight Jack’d and Schlongon’d because this is going to be an absolute massacre of epic proportions.
And you Jack. You mean less than nothing to ol’ Z. You are just in his way. But then again, so isn’t everybody. However, they just choose to be there. If I were you Jackie, I’d move. I’d take a page out of Damian Kaines book and not show up. Why make it worse on yourself. Why make it harder on yourself when it doesn’t have to be. I know it must be strange to hear someone completely dismantle you and this persona that you have built up over the years. I’m sure you half expected ZMAC to come out and call you a homo FGT and be done with it. You could side step all that easy but Ruby -> his bottom bitch -> his manager-> coming out and striping you down for the world to see -> something you never saw k-k-k-kumming. But like all girls, you never truly see us cumming. All you see is the face we put on. The moans we feed you to feel better and the lies we tell you. Oh, we know, Jack. We you know ‘it ‘ never happened before. We know that you swear you’re never like this. Do you need me to sing you America the Beautiful so you don’t dump your load too quic? I know my pussys tight. I know that its wet-> thank you very much.
We know, Jack. We know all about you and the not so dirty secrets that you keep. We know that you hate who you are, where you came from and where you’re going. Truthfully speaking you hate that you were a nobody, still are a nobody and are going nowhere expect for the three buck a pump barrel at the smut shop. Don’t you try and tell you me that you’re special, Jackie. You ain’t special. ‘Special’ is what parents call their children when their disappointed. Truthfully if I had a son and he turned out like you, I’d be disappointed too. But ol’ Z, theres nothing to be disappointed about. You know exactly which Z you’re getting. The kind on a mission. The kind with resolve. The kind with grit, daring and determination. The kind of ferocity that’s a complete fucking nightmare for people like you. You’re not determined, you’re just foolish.
Monday night when you step in that ring with The Coked Up Mad Man and you stare into those cold yellow eyes, like a dolls eyes… you’ll know that every word that I have told you today is one hundred percent true. You’ll know it immediately. All those weekly awards you get. The promos, the matches… ZMAC would best you and beat anytime he damn well wants. Soon the world will once again forget about Jackie Schlongson and that is such a miserable place for you. However, the world does not forget about ol’ Z. The world does not forget because the world does not forget greatness.
It just forgets faggots. N’ when Zombie McMorris is choking you out in the middle of that ring and you’re wearing that crimson mask and you can taste it on your teeth and he’s just there, laughing and enjoying it -> humiliating you -> poking and prodding you -> stomping your sad little guts in -> and your teeth are in your stomach and theres blood sticking to your ribs. And the fading consciousness waxes from your collective soul as he hits you with that Dove Killah and you're just bearly alive enough to know you aint breathing and that ref counts the three and your career is over in an instant for somebody elses war.... you’ll know that you made the wrong choice to get back in this industry.
HIS INDUSTRY.
And the company whose entire existence hinges on his family name.
You, Jackie, will be no more.
SURVIVE. IF HE LETS YOU.