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Imperial · (05-17-2017)

Four years ago

“Mother, can I get you dinner?”

She didn’t respond, to be fair, she hadn’t responded in weeks. Danny’s shoulders slumped like they did every time he tried to communicate with her. Never give up on it, never stop trying. They’d hoped that the separation from her husband would help her psychosis, but it had just continued it’s downward spiral. Nothing anyone did could help, not the psychiatrist, not her close friends, not her butler and not her son. Danny pushed off from her door, that he had leaned up against to speak to her.

“Jackson! Bring Mother her dinner as always.”

“Of course, it should be with her in two minutes.”

“Thank you.”

He instructed Jackson daily, though knowing that Jackson didn’t really need the reminder. It made him feel like he had some form of control over something, Jackson understood that and entertained his requests. Mrs Bharat… Well, Ms Bharat now, never really ate much. The decision to keep her last name also surprised many, perhaps she hadn’t instigated the separation after all, nobody really knew how Mr Bharat felt, they hadn’t heard from him since he’d left.

Danny had tried to find his sister, he asked his mother and begged Jackson, but neither gave him anything to work on. He took to the interweb, searching anything he could think of, throwing images he had of her into google searches, nothing ever came through.

“Jackson, is Dr. Reed coming in today? Isn’t Mother due for another session today?”

“Yes, she should be coming over. Dory called by the way, checked to see if you’d be-“

“No. No I won’t.”

“Of course, I told him you have too much on your plate to be worrying about your dreams.”

Danny jerked his head to glare at Jackson, he could hear the disapproval in his voice.

“What did you say? Are you really going to give me shit for wanting to stay here with my mother?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then what did you mean, Jackson?”

“You haven’t been in a ring in six months, you were making such monumental progress as well. Don’t you think this would be what she wants for you? To chase those dreams of yours?”

“I don’t even know if she thinks of me at all! Let alone if she cares what my dreams are and what I’m doing with my time. But she is my mother, and I do have a responsibility towards her.”

“A responsibility to slowly let your dreams die?”

“You’ve gotten quite the lip. I pay you to take care of the on goings in the house, not to tell me how to live my life. Know your place, Jackson.”

Jackson straightened his cuffs, nodding his head towards Danny. Danny knew what he had said was uncalled for, he knew Jackson was the closest thing to a parent he still had, but he was in no mood to be told what to do. His life was dwindling to a constant routine of school and trying to get through his mother. He didn’t need Jackson reminding him about how wonderful it would be to be back in the ring.

“Dinner will be ready in five, Sir.”

Danny winced at the response, Jackson only ever called him Sir in public and when he was severely disappointed with the way Danny was behaving. Danny thought about apologizing, but he just couldn’t muster up the energy. His shoulders slumped once more as he turned to return to his room, he had a Statistics paper the next day he needed to prepare for.

A few days ago

Continued from my previous promo titled “Disappointed.”.

Danny still in the locker room, runs his hands over his eyes. He rubs the sleep out of them, turning his attention away from the drone and to Jackson.

“Jackson, you said there was a fourth one? I don’t think I could muster the strength and patience to get through another one of Main’s verbal diarrhea sessions. He can talk and talk and talk and talk, but really not say anything.”

“If you say so, Danny. He’s still your opponent come Wednesday, so I’d suggest you watch it and respond to it.”

“I don’t want to, can’t I just crush him on Wednesday and get it over and done with it?”

“It’s in your contract really, these vignettes keep the network filled and the merchandise bought. Also, I think you’ll like this one, he’s tried to… Borrow your style.”

“Erm, he did what?”

“Your vignette style, he tried to borrow it.”

“Steal it, you mean.”

“Well, you know what they say about imitation?”

“Only flattery when isn’t smeared with shit. Ugh. I most definitely don’t have the patience to watch that right now. Let me go home and get some good sleep.”

Danny pushes himself off the floor and runs a hand through his sweat soaked hair. He brings a towel to it again and rubs his hair vigorously as he begins to take off his ring gear. Chucking his boots, pads and tights to a corner, he walks off towards the shower, his manhood flopping between his legs for all to see.

“I know I’ve been with you all your life and everything, but please, lord please, don’t put everyone between here and the showers through that.”

“What! It’s a privilege to be fair, might be able to get someone for some good fun tonight. Maybe that Roxy Cotton is still hanging about and wants a good time.”

“I highly doubt that’s the best way to go abo-“

“It’s Roxy Cotton.”

“Point taken.”

Present Day

After a much needed rest, from a hectic past few weeks, Danny breathes out in satisfaction as he kicks out of bed. He pays almost no attention to the beautifully naked pearly-white skinned girl lying beside him. She coo’s in her sleep as he slips out from her arms, before turning over and going back to sleep. Danny chuckles to himself, he’d definitely given her reason to sleep in, last night.

He picks up a pair of boxers lying by his bedside, slipping them on. He lifts an arm into the air, sniffing at his pits to check he didn’t smell too much like sex. Unfortunately that was exactly the case. Opening his room door, he yells out without much concern for the sleep princess.

“JACKSON! BREAKFAST PLEASE, I’M STARVED.”

Jackson’s chuckle can be heard from the living room, and he makes his way to get Danny’s breakfast of three eggs, slices of bacon, twelve pieces of toast and beans from a can. For all his money, Danny really just ate breakfast like a trucker after a long inter-state drive.

Danny made his way to the bathroom, just as he heard the lady sleeping in his bed begin to stir.

“Where are ya’ going babe?”

“Hush up and go back to sleep.”

She nodded sleepily, rubbing her eyes and curling back into a sleeping position.

“Bitches.”

After a quick shower, Danny made his way down to his living room, wearing just his elephant boxers. He leaps over the back of a couch, landing perfectly in a seated position. On the coffee table in front of him was his usual breakfast, with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The TV flashed with pictures from the day’s news, Jackson’s usual ritual.

“Hey Jack, could you put on that Main promo I couldn’t bear to watch yesterday?”

“You sure? Might spoil your appetite.”

“Hah, nothing spoils my appetite. I’m ravenous.”

Jackson shrugged and obliged him, hitting the remote a few times and letting the promo play. Danny frowned almost immediately as he saw one of his old images being reused. He kept silent, except for the sounds of his chewing and drinking as the promo played through. An arsenal of emotions flashed through his face as he watched the entirety of the promo. He put down his fork just as Main finished speaking and the screen faded to black. Licking his fingers, Danny gestures for Jackson to take out his phone and start recording.

“Main, Main, Main. You want some advice? Mimicry isn’t cute.”

As he finishes licking his fingers clean, Danny tilts his head and stares straight into the phone.

“You want something different, here it is. Beautifully unedited, no bullshit, none of my usually hilarious flashes. Pure, unaltered verbal annihilation.

If my promo was lackluster, you wouldn’t be so obviously quaking in your boots. Did Caedus have to slip on some adult diapers on you to keep your dinner from leaking out of your enlarged anal cavity? Or did you perhaps just confuse the stench for their ejaculation dripping down your thighs, that you’re so used to feeling already. I make you scared, that’s clear from your attempts at mocking my style. You see the amusement my vignettes invoke and you’re trying to buy into that, you can’t.

Why you might ask? Why won’t your promotional videos ever be as entertaining as mine, you might wonder. It’s something called personality. Some people throw around words like “X-Factor” and the “It factor”, all just an attempt at making it seem something bigger than normal. It’s just personality. If your inherent character had an iota of character or intrigue… You’d be able to at least pose a threat. But you don’t. You’re just a two-dimensional, egomaniacal half-assed superstar that’s actually got some ring ability. So why don’t you stick your ass in that ring and leave the entertainment to people the fan’s actually want to see between shows.

Let me just get to dissecting this bullshit you put out anyways, by the time I’m done with this, I hope your pea-brain will be able to understand just how full of disillusionment you truly are.

Oh, my fighting champion. How will I discredit your gung-ho spirit? How will I argue against your passionate declaration. Easily. You did it yourself, through your actions leading up to this encounter. Yes, you were rescheduled to defend your title another day. However, the first time an opportunity presented itself, you squirmed.

The first time you realized you might be facing me, prior to my bout with Mystica what did you do, Robert? You went online, found the first excuse not to face me, in this case the rule that two champions cannot face each other. I was fully aware of this, and figured if I beat Mystica, I’d still like to face you, championship on the line or not. See, there’s a fighting champ. You however, thought it’d be well intelligent to try and weasel out of said fight. This, as most people know, invoked Pryce to pop up and suggest that he wipe that rule from existence, which you took to mean I must be sucking his dick. Right, like I’d have to suck somebody’s dick to beat you up. Pryce hates your guts, he’d pay me to whoop your ass. Well.. I guess this Wednesday he is.

So fighting champ? Was that all part of your unwavering belief that you’d face whomever came your way to defend and embolden the honor of the Hart Title? I’m not done yet. You went further, when I did win my match, to come and strike me down in the ring. Because you see, fighting champs don’t fight fair, do they? They grovel with their beasts and slay their opponents without a thought for a fight. Pathetic.

You’re no fighting champ, Main. You’re a shivering coward who’d do anything to hold on to his titles a little longer. Even if it means dripping that shit seeping down your leg all over their reputation. It makes wonderful sense to ally yourself with the few men that might pose a threat to your gold, keeps the off your back for the time being eh?

Fake news? Don’t make us laugh. Main you’re an opportunist at best. Your friends are no better. I don’t need to lie or spin anything to beat you and to tarnish your cum-stained reputation. You can pull a Trump and fake news everything we say, but on Wednesday the headlines will be clear.

“Danny Imperial Reigns Supreme”

Oh and, just a little bit of information. It’s kind of a requirement for you to no longer have the belt… For me to become Hart Champion. It’s not something we can particularly share. So exclaiming that I’ll never become Hart Champion as long as you have that belt is kinda… Nonsensical. I’m going to pry that title out of your unconscious hands, and then you’ll no longer be Hart Champion BECAUSE… I will be.”

Danny pauses to look up the stairs to see his night time lady friend come out, in nothing but her panties. She stands against the banister, a dreamy look in her eyes.

“Baby, are you going to come back to bed with me… I’m oh so thirsty.”

“Oh I know, sweetheart, you couldn’t stop swallowing last night. Give me a second okay?”

She grins, dreamily, turning around and walking back into his bedroom. Jackson rolls his eyes at Danny’s obvious chauvinism.

“Back to the matter at hand. You didn’t have to kiss any ass to getting your shot at glory? You know what’s great, neither did I. Seems like you had to do a little more than kiss ass to keep your glory around your shoulders though. And that Trios title took some good trains on your ass I’m sure. Chaos picked you over Caedus? I can only imagine how good you must’ve made him feel before he came to that conclusion.

You see, when you’re as charismatic, as enigmatic and oooh as wonderfully orgasmic as I am, the opportunity to perform in front of the masses just comes flooding in. When you speak with such eloquence as I do, the microphone just never stops coming. When the very path you walk is glittered with commercial success, the merchandise deals just land at your feet. I’ll leave the sucking dick to Carla in my room.

See my issue with your choice of location wasn’t really an issue about your memories there. It was shot at how convoluted your description of that place with relation to your memories was. I’ve got memories, I’ve got places I cherish. Yet you seemed to struggle with the verbalization of yours. That’s quite common in children that fall on the autistic spectrum, or adults who’ve gone through severe life traumas. I mean, I’m not explicitly saying anything… But you’ll most definitely be one of those after I’m done with you on Wednesday. Points if you can guess which one.

I never said I was a superhero. Or a man of exceptional nobility. I do have some form of morale standing though, I do believe in a right and a wrong. When The Kings came in to level the playing field you’d turned to shit with AX3, their entrance into the XWF was honestly justice. That’s why I didn’t run to your aid when they inserted one of their own into a tag match, or when they laid the beat down on your team. I cheer for nobody, and I find joy in nobody succeeding but me. All the allies I make on the way, or a furtherance of my career, my plans. Dolly and Cadryn were similar, they provided me and I provided them with some form of protection against you. We needed it, before The Kings stepped in to reign you rabid mongrels in.

Why don’t you stop with the pulling things out of thin air and labelling me with things I’ve never quite said about myself. Look’s like you’ve learned quite a bit from your lord and savior Trump when it comes to unsubstantiated accusations and spewing out sewage fodder to fill up airtime on the XWF Network.

You sound like one of those scraggly bearded men, sitting at home on your beer-stained couch with a bud light in one hand and your other down your camo pants as you watch reruns of Duck Dynasty. I’ve never felt so sorry for you than when I realized you were a Trump jockey. Quoting that moral-less, rat king to justify the actions of your assembly of vermin is never going to add anything to your argument. Pathetic, or in the words of Trump. Sad, very sad. Bing boing bing boing.

Did I say AX3 had done nothing? I’m pretty sure what I said was you, Robert Main, had done nothing to increase the worth of your Hart Title. I claimed your ego’s are so big and your man-parts so small that there was absolutely no way that, that many sycophants could co-exist for much longer. Sniff the air Main, along with the smell of your utter bullshit, you’ll be able to sense the scent of change. The scent of eminent implosion and the sweet smell of your wavering confidence and pungent fear.

Why defend more you ask? Sigh. You’re just doing what is in the contract for being Hart Champion. You really couldn’t make this easier for me Main. You started off by saying you’re a fighting champ. Now you’re a “just-enough” champ. So are you a Scully or a Chris Chaos? Are you going to sit on your laurels and get threatened to lose your title or… Wait, I guess that already happened with Heyman didn’t it? I guess it’s clear exactly what kind of champion you are Main, and prestigious is not what comes to mind. Opportunistic perhaps, lazy for sure. There are different types of snakes out there Main, vipers that hunt their prey and strike with dead force or deadly Puff Adders that lay on the middle of road and wait to be stepped on. Sure you’ve got bite, but you definitely don’t have spirit.

You could’ve stopped at video three and saved yourself this embarrassment but your greed really dug itself a grave. In striving to dish out more, you’ve doubled back on yourself and made up things about me more than once.

You don’t scare me Main, and you definitely don’t torment me. You have to actually be smarter than I am to pose any form of psychological threat over me. Your attempts at tarnishing my name and insulting me has proven that intelligence is definitely not your forte. Perhaps you’ll give me a hard fight in the ring, but when it comes to pre-show battles… I’ve most definitely won.

You experienced no pain or suffering leading up to this, well… Other than to your ego from yours truly. You’ve been trying to throw shit at me that doesn’t exist and attacking me after my battles. I think if anyone has some pain and suffering to dish out, it’s me. You try to seem like both a victim and the oppressors but it’s not going to get the girls cheering your name, love. It’s not going to get the kids scream “MAIN!” No, no. That privilege is reserved for those who actually have the tiniest morale standing. That’s reserved for one who literally drops panties with a wink. You are nothing.

You jump to a quick three-sixty just about, flickering from devil to light of the company. So which one are you Main? You’re not a devil, and I can’t even imagine how you thought you were a bright flame. Do you see who you’re rubbing shoulder with? Do you see the giants you’re stuck in a stable with, even I’m not so daft as to think I’m a flame next to them. Vile, yes, but they’re definitely shining brighter than you. They’re definitely far more of a threat than you are.

You are filled with analogies and wishful thoughts. I do love my analogies, I’m definitely one for theatrics but at the end of the day you’re just another scared mid-card champion itching to get his first defense under him. His first defense months into his career. Theatrics aren’t your style, so I’d suggest you back up from your attempt at plagiarism and go back to doing what you do best, cowering behind the careers of men bigger, scarier and better than you’ll ever be.”

Danny leans back, and Jackson flickers the camera down. He starts sending it to Danny after his approval.

“Hey Jack.”

“Yeah Danny?”

“You reckon we should cut Main some slack and send that Betsy in my room over to the AX3 house?”

“What’s that going to do for Main?”

“Well, he must be awfully tired in that bent over position, maybe we can let them run a train on somebody else for a change?”

“You disgust me.”

“It’d work though, can’t doubt that.”

I couldn't resist.
[Image: IGn3VOr8SxOO4.gif]

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