The Raging Slaughter Within

CHAPTER I: ZKAST PT 1







CHAPTER II: NECK BONE TO HIP BONE

Killing Floor.

So far I am unimpressed by it. There are 5 former world champions in this match and we are just about 24 hours out from the match and I stand alone in presence. I mean, right now it is Monday night and there is fucking ZERO enthusiasm from anybody -> anywhere. Cept for you, Corey Bull -> You thirsty as a bitch in heat at a 7/11 at 3 am. Like damn, I didn’t know that my first title defense was going to be this fucking easy. I mean, shit -> I knew it would but like not EASY, EASY. You sparkling wiggles need at least to try and make it seem like I aint going to push your shit in. Who knows, maybe in a few hours things will change but I really aint foreseeing anything drastic till we approach 24 hours left.

So, you know -> get killed with a monologue -> see if I fuckin care.

Is this how champions are supposed to act? Am I ruining the learning curve by doing what I do and just bodying everybody I see even before I see them? Where is the Andre Holmes -> wheres the sexy celeste Mallory? I get why Bonnie Blue aint around. She procrastinates. That bitch could start masturbating tomorrow and would be able to get off til next week.

Richards is prolly gonna drink himself dead and think he won the swiss lottery or sumthing with a Japanese hotel key. Seriously -> how did he become a champion?

Celeste -> I’ll call it now -> no show. Get fucked.

Andre needs to drink his milk and say work himself up into a tiny ball of hate. Hes got to think that even though hes the 2nd most accomplished man in UCI history ( LOL behind ya boi ) that he’s now an underdog and needs to show the world one fore. Seriously Andre, shits old. Get fucked. Knowing him he’ll run up all super try hard -> get to the end -> only to eat a fucking Dove Killah Deluxe.

Preecha is finding Gawd in a truck stop bathroom.

Kevin Bishop is in Puerto Rico trying to recruit little orphan boys to rebuild The Brotherhood. My gawd, the man just cant let that shitty stable die. Admit you were wrong. Admit you failed. Admit that Ol’ Z is better than you and move the fuck on. Ain’t none of you walking out of Killing Floor with my UCI world championship. I mean, not like none of you can even be bothered to show up. You know that Ol’ Z has the advantage. Just do what you’re supposed to do. Front block for your boy. Let me pick up the W -> turn on me and then next month we can have a blow off ( LOL I mean, you blowin’ me ) even though you don’t deserve to have you name in another world title match until you earn that shit.


That’s the thing -> none of you earned this shit. I earned this title. I earned this match.

Preecha, Bull, Oblivion -> you may have earned a spot in the match but you didn’t earn a shot against Zombie McMorris. I earned this by being dominant. For six months. You three just show up and get things for free. The more things change the more they stay the same.

Alex Richards don’t you fucking say a word. Don’t throw your tag title at my face. Its disingenuous to the true level of your skill. IE, you have no skill. Like I been saying -> you get carried. You got carried through your world title run and I expect Bonnie to carry you through this match too.

Celeste, sweet, Celeste. Go Home. Tell Mommy you took up Blogging and you’re a Youtube Sensation or something. Don’t insult me but not being around since fucking January. I went and checked the fucking archives. J A N U R A R Y YOU STUPID FUCKING SLOVIC CUNT RAG. Now you insult me and UCI by showing up just to re-tread Killing Floor.

LOL

I’m not that fucking charitable. I’m going to eat you. Literally cannibal corpse your body. Green Inferno up in this Camp Crystal Biz’nez. Then again, with Oblivion around, he might make the faster snack out of you. Between him or me, you’d rather It’d be me but hey -> enjoy IT.

Just leaves you, BB. Please break your bonds. Break your chains. Free yourself from your own suffrage. Serfdom is no place for a woman of your caliber. You are highly intelligent. You are fierce. You are proud. You are skilled. You do not need Alex Richard or that Guardian bullshit. Just be Bonnie Blue, Time Witch and wrecker of shit. Just do yourself a favor. If not, if you chose to stay your own misguided course then I will not be responsible for what I am going to do to you. Rather, Spencer wont hold me accountable because he knows that you all put yourselves here. In this position. All I am doing is seizing the opportunity to skillfully take out the entire ‘top’ division of UCI.

Let us just be honest. As long as I am champion there is no World Champion division. There are no more ‘top guys,’ no hungry Bonnie Blues to fight like a passionate warrior that she is. In truth I am a lion fighting house cats. Declawed, spoiled, rotten, stinky, sorry, house cats. If’n ya’ll were anything different that I wouldn’t say anything about any of you. In truth, I really only have high praise for one of you and respect for another.

This match for me is a cake walk. This fish in a barrel except the barrel of fish is being thrown into a volcano. This is not me being over confident- but this IS ME knowing my opponents from YEARS of experience.

You see, I know how they all preform in big matches. I know how they all are as world champions but me – I’m the rouge. I’m the XYZ variable. However, they do all know how dangerous I can be and each and every one of you would be fools to ignore or dismiss that fact. And there lies the problem. You all have to such so much of my dick that I already choked you to death before you even each my hip bone.


*sigh* Mandingo Problems, Amirite -> Andre?

Except for Bonnie. I heard she got throat game.

LOL

But the rest of ya’ll.. fucking trash tier

and ya boi ol’ Z about to burn you all up and walk out of Killing Floor the same way I walked in.

On mother fucking TOP




CHAPTER III: ZKAST pt 2






CHAPTER IV:  THE RAGING SLAUGHTER WITHIN


Ruby and ZMAC are taking a walk in the woods while the UCI trucks are busy setting up at the campground. They walk around the surrounding woods hand in hand. Ruby is wearing ripped jeans, converse, a black tank top and ZMACs leather jacket. ZMAC walks next to her in matching attire, showing off his many tattoos except he’s wearing black boots instead of sneakers.

“This is going to be a tough match, you know?” says Ruby with a hushed tone. “You’re world champion now, you don’t need to go out there and put your body through hell. You’ve been through enough just to get here.”

“I’m going to do what I need to do. I’m not worried about getting hurt or being hurt. My only concern is winning the match, retaining my championship and continuing the Summer of Z.” ZMAC lets Rubys hand go and takes a step away but she is quick to grab it and pull him in.

“Z! I know that you’re going to do what you want regardless of what I say and that probably even more so just because I asked. For my entire life, you have raged against the machine doing things your way and I have no doubts in my mind that tonight will be no different but with Oblivion and Bull in the ring with you – what lengths are you willing to go to?”

“Any length. I’m not going to stop being who I am because I am finally recognized as the great wrestler that I have always been. Ruby, I do not intend to slow down right now. I can’t go full out every other day of my career except for today or except for my world title reign. Now is the time for me to go even further. If I have to drown somebody in that lake then I’ll drown somebody in that lake. If I have to Andre Holmes onto a barn fire and make some Caribbean jerk with his tight meat then so be it. I told them and I told you when I got here that I am getting the UCI world Championship. This belt was my goal since day one – that has not changed and it will never change. I am not going to stop doing what got me to the dance because what got me to the dance is what won me the belt. So no Rube, I will not go easy or let up. I intend on going out the ring and fighting for MY world Championship because that is more than what anyone else is willing to do.

Everyone else just wants to posture and flex and tell me – the COKED UP MADMAN that it is they – not me – who is tough. They want to say that it is them – not me – who is sadistic. They want to say that it is them – not me who will walk out of Killing Floor with the World Championship. Well to them, I tell them to prove it. The only issue is that none of them are able. None of them could retain their belts and yah, no one is above losing. Lord knows that I have done my fair share of it but when it comes to violence and gore and barbaric savagery not seen since Genghis Khan rode across the plans and the fucking pope had to bride him not to ride in and burn civilization to the ground. The difference Ruby between then and now is that there is nothing that no one can bribe me. None of them have anything that I want unless they want to put their lives on the line as a sacrifice.

In essence, that is what Killing Floor is. It is a sacrifice to their undead and undying God of Decay. ‘ please ZMAC!’ they’ll beg. They’ll beg me to stop. They’ll beg me to show mercy. They’ll beg me to leave and never come back. They’ll beg – ME – just as they always have. Sure, Ruby I can be persuaded but I cannot be bought. I do all things according to my whim and I do not have to stand here and tell them or the world how I am doing to do this or that or the other thing to keep MY world title because it IS my world title and the world already knows what I am going to do in order to keep it. I have no one to convince. Yet there is eight other people who need to convince themselves and the world once again that they belong in the ring across from me.

Its ironically delicious to me that all these proud people, former world champions now have to do what I have done for six years. They have to claw and scratch and try to murder somebody just to try and sniff a spot in the main event. It is ironic because a world champion has to act like the bum the world saw me as for six years. Its delicious because I see them for the disgusting bums that I know they all are. I know that none of them work hard. I know that they have all been handpicked at one point or the other. I have never been hand picked. I have been the product of my own design from day one.

Day one. Now its day zero. Now its day Z. Now it is time that the UCI universe step up the way I have stepped up each and every day in my career except they cant because as of now, only Corey Bull has made a statement. Yet you have world champions from two months ago that cant come here and say shit. I cant even squeeze a drop out of these pre-madonnas. Kevin wants his belt back – where is he?

Wheres Bonnie? Wheres Alex Richards to refute the fact that his entire career isn’t one sad fucking fluke. A fucking joke by gawd and jam willy alike. Where is Celeste to tell me that she isn’t a flash in the pan? Where is Andre to show me that he’s got Killing Floor on lock? Is Preecha hanging out and I don’t know? Did he find it out of the house of Gawd and into the house that ZMAC built without me knowing? How about Oblivion? He wants to be the Monster right? He wants to be IT once again but yet the monster is raging inside like a church mouse. Its obscene to even think that I won’t walk out of Camp Crystal – walk out of Killing Floor WITHOUT THE BELT – or without the tactics that brought me here. As far as I’m concerned, if there is any doubt left in anybodys mind that I do not belong or that I do not deserve or that I’m a one note wrestler that belong trolling the twitter feed – Killing Floor will silence them all BECAUSE I WILL SILENCE THEM ALL.

As far as I am concerned I have the advantage. Whoever steps up to Zombie McMorris is going to get their teeth kicked down their throat with a boot party and then I’m going to rip them an axe wound so deep that I can give them a root canal with a suppository. Ruby, this not about being careful this is about being me and taking care of whats mine. That belt, that ring, this company and you. There is no divine justice in this world and there is no divine justice in this match not when the Honey Badger is standing across from you. Trust me when I tell you that I am still hungry and I am still out blood and gore and mayhem. I am fighting lambs, Rube – not lions. The dinner bell will be ringing and I will be feasting. Which one among them can stand toe to toe with me? The part timers? The special returns? The guys that I have beating and making fools of for months now; who? It has been and always will be myself. I see no credible threat in any of them for I am as dominant as I choose to be. A lot of them already know that and they know that viciousness has a new name this week. They know that these woods stand both as backdrop and as a burial mound of they are not careful and believe me – they are not being careful.

The worst part about it is that none of them is even trying to hide it. Its disgusting that months ago you could take any of these people and hold them up and say ‘ yah, that’s what a world champion should be,’ but look at them now. Pft, look at who now; ghosts? Skeletons and specters of the champions that used to be or hoped to be if given enough time or practice? I’ve had six years of practice. I have had six years of time pacing like a caged beast and now I am caged no more to do the damage that I know I can and will inflict on anyone who cares to call themselves a challenger to my UCI World Championship. The way I see it there should be a number one contenders tournament; so that the right guy for the right job of getting his ass kicked can step up and say for a fact that he earned the beating he is about to receive because these people that I’m going to slaughter didn’t earn it- but they will be slaughtered all the same.

I am not champion to forgive or forget and I have not forgiven or forgotten what my career has been like prior to this. I am champion to take UCI to the next level. I am still the Syfy star as far as I know and as such I will get us better TV time and better deals. I’ll expose us to whole new crowd that is sick and tired the same way that I am sick and tired. Tired of the millionaires that do this for kicks. Tired of the prodigy rookies who think because they landed one gawd damn moonsault in their careers that they think their special. Or how about the 7 foot piles of monkey shit they hand belts too even though dudes cant cut a promo to save their life. Same with those cinematic rejects with their off camera spots that the world isn’t suppose to see and yet they get butt hurt when no one pats them on the ass or gives them a fucking award. Sorry, but that aint the way shits going to work anymore. If you want something in the U then you better pull up your pink little panties and earn something in the U.

At Killing Floor I am EARNING ME the title of best damn wrestler in UCI history. Period. End. Of. Fucking. Story. When I eliminate each and every one of these sorry sons of bitches. This is my ring, my company and my world. Everyone else is just waiting to die in it. And trust me, they’re all going to die.Because they all float down here, Ruby. They all float down here. If you were to ask me what this match and this belt mean to me – it’s the culmination of my life time. All the men I’ve lead to death, all the sailors I’ve watched drown, all the villages I’ve sacked and all the kingdoms that I have lost. I know better than any what true love and loss are. I know what this means to a lot of people. This right here is the raginging slaughter within, Ruby. From here, from now – I’ve made it. I’ve never been keen on ruling people; that’s not my style. I prefer freedom. This championship is freedom. This right here is proof of concept that guys like me who rage within and go against all convention that we –I can make it in the time when the world champ isn’t supposed to look like me. To me, wrestling is modern day piracy. I get to travel the world, drink, fight and get paid for it. That’s why I do what I do. So when I’m told to get in line or change who I am- I can’t because I’ve been who I am longer than anyone else has.

Killing Floor is the world coming at me. Every kind of wrestler that I despise – those who succeeded over me because I am who I am. I may not be backed into a corner but I am going to fight just the same. I got the seven footer – the prodigy – the millionaire, the monsters, the established stars and the ‘hungry’ up and comers that haven’t earned it. There is not a ZMAC among them except the one that stands before you. Monday night, in the middle of the woods- I’m setting the world on fire. I’m going to ravage them. This slaughter within will no longer be contained.

It is coming for them all.

and it will leave no survivors.”