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~~Grande Ricardo~~ · (01-16-2018)

"Scully is

. And at 11 we'll discuss how snow is cold, and sand is dry. He thinks I just now started to call him

, which is as much a factual inaccuracy as calling me a woman named Jennifer Lawrence. Scully's

ass forgets I called him out on that extra chromosomal grind way back in our first adventure. And I think he's somehow got it twisted that I give a shit if he's married to that woman or not. Fam, it's not that serious. What is serious is that now that poor girl has to take care of three drooling sniveling messes that can't be trusted with scissors or even slightly sharp objects. Thank you for ruining her life even further, you spastic piece of shit. And when she inevitably goes down to the pharmacy, robs it of all of its narcotics, and OD's right there in the lobby while waiting for the cops, that's on you as well. You have absolutely ruined her life, I hope you're happy.

Who'm I kidding? You're definitely too stupid to understand that idea. You probably think I'm excited that you got a dog, since I clearly didn't attack you for getting a dog, simply mentioned that buying a dog doesn't make you better at what we do. Which by the way, you can make the excuses of "dur, at least I admit I suck." But that doesn't change the fact that you're still shitty and an embarrassment to your family, and in now way are you doing a goddamn thing to change that. Hell, I could set you up with match after match against only Tommy Wish and John Black, get Mastermind and Chasm in there for good measure, and you'd still find a way to shit the bed harder than Scatbear after a night of excessive anal sex, laxatives, and Taco Bell. But, you fucking up is par for the course isn't it?

Like, come on, you talk shit because I got surprise attacked and beaten by someone small, but yet you were carried by Guppy. You don't get to talk a big game after having to rely on one of the smallest dudes in the game to get anything done. And then? When he's realized that carrying you is too much work for his poor wittle shoulders, he runs away never to be seen from again. Thanks, you paint licking mongrel, you ran Guppy off. Goddamn, you're even more of an embarrassment than I thought. No wonder your mom doesn't love you. Fuck, man. Just fuck. I can barely understand how someone functions at this low of a level, and I'm the guy who willingly slept in dumpsters, and keeps food in his ass. There is a problem when you make that person look like the mature and rational one in a conversation.

I really could cut an entire promo on just the fact that you're almost proud of how terrible you are, but being sincere, why? Like, at this point, why should I keep ragging on you? You're never gonna change, you're never gonna get better, you're never going to actually be able to focus up and do the work. No, you'll take some L's for a bit, and then you'll vanish in a puff of sorrow, and pop back up after a couple months of sulking, try again and fail just to rinse and repeat. We'll get a few excuses, and maybe a boast or two about being a former champion or some shit, trying to make us feel a mixture of sympathy and respect for you. It just won't work though, because all you do when you tell people you used to hold the Universal title is water the belt down, and make it mean less. Robbie Bourbon could have dug it out of a literal trash can, and make up a story about beating Bob Backlund at a tournament in Rio de Janeiro and he'd somehow make the belt better than your reign ever did. We could put the belt on a literal pile dog dicks, and have it fight a pile of human shit sculpted to look like Janet Reno, with Donald Trump's hair, and that would be less offensive to the belt than you and your reign.

After I beat your ass from here to Tunisia, I'm going to make you apologize to goddamn Vinnie Lane for taking the title from him, and ruining the prestige he tried to build around it. Then I'm going to make you thank Peter Gilmour for giving you the chance to give him the belt. Because of you, his dreams came true. I'd say you're like John Cena granting wishes to dying kids, but in reality it's just that you ran like a coward from challenges for months and when you finally had to defend it, you choked harder than Piper Perri on Lexington Steele's magnum dong. Yes, I did make that reference, and yes, I realize you're not feverishly jacking your cock at the idea of your girl actually being satisfied in bed, something she's never had with you, you fucking cuck."

Pickles and I are laying on the couch cuddling watching a film on the new TV we put in. Apparently Pickles doesn't like to stare at the wall and pretend it's Trading Spaces or Spaceballs. We agreed to not put one in the room, though, so that I can watch the wall in bed. I guess that's a win, I won't push it to find out. Mike demanded his sling and cast come off, so he's been hanging out in his aquarium trying to hide from Bigsby, who hasn't been the friendliest to him. It's fine, cause I hooked Mike up with a 43 inch 4K tv in his aquarium, so he can watch his soap operas in piece. I know some of the people watching this might think that's excessive, but look at that face and tell me he doesn't deserve it.

That's right, haters, he definitely deserves it. So, we're watching that new movie about the couple who fall in love in space, and it's not very good, but whatever. I'm cuddling with my big bear, with my gear off, and he's twirling my hair while chewing on it slightly. This makes me feel all happy and relaxed, I dunno, it's just super comforting. He knows I've got this match against Scully coming up, and I guess is trying to relax me before it, since he thinks I'm nervous about it. I'm not, Scully poses as much of a threat to me as a mop does to an airplane.

"Ricky?"

I turn my head slightly to look up at him. His beautiful browns looking down at me.

"Yeah, babe."

Now I notice it, it's not love and compassion in his eyes, it's fear and anger.

"Do you have to do this match with Scully?"

"Yes, I do. I have to put to bed any claim he has of legitimacy. I have to stamp out any idea that his 2018 will be good and worthwhile. I need to make him remember that in 2018, as in 2017, he'll be the bottom of the barrel. I need to remind him that it wasn't his lack of time to prepare that cost him at War Games. It was his lack of skill."

He's holding back tears.

"And if he hurts you? It's Xtreme rules, and he's going to try and use some weapon to even the odds. He could really hurt you. I've seen these matches before, and I know the kind of people who haunt the backstage of the XWF at these shows. Doctor D'Ville bit off Peter Gilmour's ear! Vinnie Lane gave someone AIDs for Chrissake."

I burst out laughing at this. I try and reign my laughter.

"What's so funny? This federation is dangerous. Everyone of their superstars makes Braun Strowman look weak."

"The idea of Vinnie " laughter "Giving someone AIDS!" Uncontrollable laughter. I fall to the floor, barely missing hitting my head on the coffee table.

"How the fuck did that happen?"

More laughter, and I start rolling back and forth on my back in one spot. It's sort of like a turtle trying to get up, but I'm laughing and not trying to get up.

"Back when he competed in the ring, and as a Shawn Michaels impersonator, he gave this rabid pedophile AIDs using Maria Brink's blood that he stole or something. This federation doesn't always make a lot of sense."

I can't help it, I release another noxious bout of laughter, this is starting to hurt my ribs.

"It's not funny. That pedophile might be dead now, or he could have passed it on to a bunch of kids. Who even knows. And that's not talking about the people who hang out there now. Michael McBride kills people, he doesn't just pretend his life is an episode of Burn Notice, he kills people for real, and I am pretty sure he likes Scully. What if he decides to attack you?"

I'm dying laughing, but trying to reign myself in so I can answer.

"If Michael McBride tried to attack me, he'd hurt himself in confusion. The only one on this card less threatening than Scully is him. And Scully won't hurt me much, I wear a helmet, remember. He's not gonna think to take that off to attack my head. And the rest of my body is covered in leather, his baby arms won't be able to get through that with anything. I bet that punk ass doesn't even lift. I work out, son."

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode ...But has anyone asked Tomi Lahren? Cause I'm sure she's outraged
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