What the actual fuck is that fucking noise!? I kick the covers off me in a huff and get out of bed in a huff and stomp over to the window. It's bright as fuck and I can barely open my eyes to the harsh sun. I see one of my neighbours on the grass at the front of my house hammering something into the earth. I growl to myself and walk downstairs, grabbing my dressing gown and slippers along the way. I go down the staircase and my agent and entourage greet me as I pass the kitchen or try but I put a quick fucking stop to that, pointing a finger and yelling at them.
"FUCK OFF! SHUT UP, CUNTS!"
I hear my agent breathe a sigh as I reach the front door.
"Great, going to be one of those days."
She says under breath thinking I didn't hear that shit. I FUCKING DID! THAT'S gonna be a problem for her in a minute. I throw open the door and see my cunt neighbour Jerry planting a sign into MY fucking lawn! He looks to me with a smile.
THIS FUCKING CUNT: "Good afternoon, Noah."
I get in his grill.
"The fuck's goin' on, Jerry!?"
Jerry takes a step back, probably because I haven't brushed my teeth, and places an elbow on the sign.
THIS FUCKING CUNT: "Just letting everyone know who this street votes for! Thought I'd go ahead and get your sign up since you didn't have one already."
I raise an eyebrow, thinking about choking him to death but remember he is crucial in our Christmas carol service. He's a cunt but man, he can carry a fucking tune. I stroll on over to the front of the sign.
What in the fuck, cunt? I throw a palm out to the cunt.
"Jerry, I work with these cunts. I would call Drezdin an insulting name but he has legit learning difficulties and I would get in serious trouble in insulting the mentally handicapped! And Thunder Knuckles! ... Well, he's alright but I'm just saying he will turn your shithole country into Mad Max because he will take every bribe that comes that cunt's way. Never trust a man with a perm, my uncle told me that right before he was stabbed by a Lionel Richie impersonator." I kiss the tips of two fingers and point up to the sky. "Miss you Uncle Bruce. And lastly, Jerry, you Pavarotti sounding cunt, I can't vote! If I didn't have a job Trump would have me locked up in a detention centre for the rest of my life!"
Jerry makes a slight chuckle.
THIS FUCKING CUNT: "Noah, I'm just showing support. You don't need to vote! People just need to know who you would vote for."
He beams his pearly whites. I wipe the sleep from the corner of my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Jerry, I'm gonna give you three seconds to get off my property before I take this sign and give you a large scale tracheotomy."
Jerry begins to scarper before I even say one, he turns back as he gets on the sidewalk.
THIS FUCKING CUNT: "Oh, and we'll see you at Harry's get-together on Tuesday, yes?"
I throw my hands to my side and shout, my head tilted to the sky.
"Of course, Jerry! My turn to bring the fucking roast, ain't it, cunt!"
Jerry fucks off, I look to the sign and just sigh before heading back inside. The cunts at the kitchen island perk up as I return, I point to one of my entourage.
"Coffee me, cunt."
GENERIC CUNT #1: "You got it, Noah!"
I take a seat and rub my temples. I slowly glance to one of the cunts smiling at me like an idiot.
"Go on, say it cunt."
GENERIC CUNT #2: "You are the king, Noah!"
He says with a large amount of enthusiasm, I let my palms fall onto the granite.
"Thank you, Generic Cunt number 2."
My agent and other two cunts look at me.
GENERIC CUNT #3: "Wait, do you not know his name?"
"Of course I do, he's number 2! ... Or is he number 3?"
I place my fist against my cheek trying to think.
GENERIC CUNT #1: "You number us!?"
"You number them? Like they're stock?"
"Fuck me, why's everyone on me all of a sudden!? Who gives a shit, I pay you to be yes men! So what I don't know your fucking names?"
GENERIC CUNT #3: "This is fucking ridiculous!"
GENERIC CUNT #1: "Agreed, you know what, I don't need this shit! I got a talking part on an upcoming CTN programme!"
"Is it called Little Bitch Baby Boys? Because that's what you're being number 1, a little bitch baby boy!"
He points at his chest.
GENERIC CUNT #1: "My name is Guy!"
"GUY!? And you're insulted that I number you? Your cunt parents named you after what you are! A fucking guy! Eat shit."
The kettle clicks off as it reaches a boil and the room goes very silent.
GENERIC CUNT #1: "Screw this and fuck you, Noah! I'm out."
The cunt throws a sulk and storms off with the other two cunts following.
"Fine! I have a girlfriend and a dad! Don't need youse cunts anyhow!"
They exit the house, number three giving me the down dirty double digits. That's two middle fingers that are upside down, it's a thing we did. Number 2 holds the door frame and looks back to me, tears forming in his eyes.
GENERIC CUNT #2: "You are not the king, Noah."
I gasp as it feels like a bullet hits my heart. Et tu, number 2? Et tu... I look over to my agent's judging gaze as I stand up with a growl to finish me cuppa. She drums her fingers on the island.
"Do you know my name?"
"Cunt, you don't even have a title when someone turns subtitles on for my promos." I look over my shoulder to her. "That's how little you mean to me."
I go back to finishing my coffee. I hear her suck air through her teeth after an insulting chuckle. I hear as she takes her keys to her hand and storms off, the door slamming behind her. My shoulders drop as I lean against the counter, staring down into the swirling blackness inside the cup. A meow to my left catches my attention as Ned Kelly hops up, I scratch him behind the ear as I look to him.
"You gonna leave too, cunt?"
He rubs against my hand as I breathe a snicker. I drop to a knee taking the cat food from the cupboard and filling his bowl which he eats heartily before the foods even left the pouch. I stand to my feet going to the fridge and grab a carton of milk. taking a long sip before pouring some into my coffee. I take the mug with me to the living room as I take a seat and stare back at myself in the black mirror of the TV screen. I told those cunts I have a dad and a girlfriend, but Fuzz and Vita are in Lethal Lottery, each of them have a damn good chance of winning. If I wasn't fucked over I could be there too, fuck I should be there. The three of us could have headlined the fucking pay-per-view! That would have been golden, instead, they get their chance and I have to babysit Big fucking D... The only problem I have right now, who the fuck do I root for? Fuzz has been a sick cunt for so long, he's been with me for a long while. We've got each other's backs non-stop, we trust each other. I'd do anything for the cunt and I know he feels the same. Vita's my girl, she's sweet and I like her. Which is scary... Me and Fuzz clicking felt like a one in a million chance but then suddenly Vita comes and lightning strikes twice... It's fucked! But, what if Fuzz fucks me off? What if I fail him? Him and Shank are teaming and they both have history, what if he's a better tag partner? We're not biologically related so what's making him stick? He's one trip to the store away from leaving me forever. And Vita, yeah we like each other, but she's playing superhero with Ruby. What if they're better for each other? What if she loses interest in me? What if she ditches me like she did Corey?
...
Fucking hell, Noah! Get the fuck out of your own head! This is why silence fucking sucks, this is why you surround yourself with cunts because when you don't you end up throwing a fucking pity party for yourself because the truth is you fucking hate yourself as much as everyone else does.
...
Fuck.
I grab the remote and turn on the TV and raise the volume. Some shit plays, it doesn't fucking matter... You're good mate, you're sick, stay sick. Top cunt, soon to be TV champion! You're fucking golden, cunt! So what if everyone leaves you? You'll be on the fucking map when you embarrass Big D like the tiny little bitch he is and steal that belt. Fucking beating yourself up and think of what was is a Big D move! You're not that useless cunt, you're the fucking king!
"I am the fucking king! Fuck Big D!"
Too fucking right, cunt! Promo time!
"What the fuck is it with the Television Title making people want to give up?"
"Whichever Blackwater it was just didn't give a shit."
"Lux vacated it."
"Thaddeus Duke through a hissy fit over it."
"And Big D would rather trade it for Vita's place in the LL tourney!"
"Is it cursed? Or has what I've been saying for a while actually true and the titles at XWF don't mean shit?"
"Fucking got 'em."
"So, Beta D, how's the hangover pal? You looked like a right prick laying on the ground after I smashed you vapid mug with a can of VB. When me and dad exploded your melon with the King Maker, fucking sick name, right? You should feel honoured really. You're the first person who has been introduced to that, when me and Fuzz are double champs with the tag titles this will be a fond highlight of your very lacklustre career. When you're in your 50s here still crawling after that Uni shot while screaming about how the HMW and Feder belts 'matter.' Cunt, those titles matter as much you do here, no surprise you feel some kind of comradery with them."
"You're such a tiny bitch. I'm honestly so mad you tried to weasel your way out of our match for another chance to lose against my dad. How fucking dense are you? You lost, cunt. You can blame Blackwater but guess what, you didn't do shit did ya? I at least have an out, Liam Roberts was about as useful as Vinnie Lane arriving to work on time. Old mate Donnie at least gave SOME effort! You were the dumb cunt who didn't see me coming! Noah fucking Jackson, you know the sick cunt whose attached at the hip with Fuzz, you didn't think for a fucking moment that I'd be there wrecking your fucking evening. This is why you're such a mediocre disappointment. Lux is a cunt BUT she was would have saw that, SHE would have thought two steps ahead! But you, cunt, you're so absorbed with what YOU are doing and where YOU are going that you're never going to a real name here."
"You wanted that TV title shot so fucking bad you wrecked a Savage set, you wanted that rematch so bad you sank all your money into that TV title shot and when you spit your dummy out, you throw away that effort for a slither of a chance of winning the tourney! That is fucking ."
"You're a fucking dumb, stupid, baby bitch-tits cunt!"
"You act like a fucking child and I am embarrassed that we have the same job description. Grow up you sad cunt, and that's coming from me! I know how I portray myself and I fucking embrace that shit, meanwhile, you walk into this company with your past accomplishments like they mean anything here and you shout til your face is blue until you get an undeserved Universal title shot and you get fucking swatted, cunt. Shit, no wonder you teamed with Ned! Two pathetic, average cunts who both had undeserved Uni shots, you fucking belong together! I can see you both sat on the porch of the wrestler's retirement home talking about how you were 'this close' to winning a certain championship. Gotta say though, Notorious BIG, ripper name. Give your ghostwriters a clap on the back for me because no way you bland cunts thought up that one on your own."
"Hahaha, I find it hilarious how you think you had a chance of winning that match. You're shit, you're not as good as you think you are. You're in the death throes of your wrestling career and you honestly thought you could beat Amjetkun Socio, yeah I can say his name right because I'm not a dumb baby, who has been a fucking powerhouse as of late. A potential sick cunt who has had the pleasure to work with VV and Fuzz and learn from them. Yeah, I don't agree with his 'workout methods' but hey, cunts do what they gotta do. You thought you had a chance of beating him and Fuzz... Fucking FuZz! Undefeated on Anarchy, XWF legend, deserving Xtreme Champion who you lost too without him breaking a sweat. You actually thought you had a chance? And what if Vita said, sure I'll take your place to have a match with Noah for the fourth time in 2 months! Did you forget she was my girlfriend because if something is outside your orbit you're too self-absorbed to care about it? Dumb cunt. If she said yes, what was your plan? You would give up a championship that easily to fail again? Was your plan to pin Mastermind and hope no one would stop it? You would have been up against Fuzz, who you can't beat, Socio, who you can't beat, The Big Shank, whose past accomplishments DO actually mean something and even fucking Ruby, who holds the fake Anarchy title but hey, she won it fair and square. She's a cunt but she's good. You are actually that fucking dumb to think you had a shot even though you failed so fucking hard previously? Your menstruating ass who just got the shit kicked out of him until you were on the verge of tears and had so much wind taken out of your sails THOUGHT for a minute, you would actually do better?"
"You're cooked, cunt."
"That type of thinking is why people believe Kangaroos would make better refs than Wallabies."
"..."
"You won't get that reference because it's not about you but I know it's funny. Fuck you, Jim. Tasmanian cunt."
"You're an over-emotional pre-teen girl. Slamming your fucking head on the apron and tearing up a sign because you couldn't save your partner, fucking shameful cunt."
"D, you're dog shit... Ha, Big Dog-shit. I am infinitely better than you in every way. See, you buy title shots while I seize opportunities and CREATE title shots. There are a vast amount of difference between us, I have a bright future for one example, but I feel that's the biggest difference. You chase belts, I take belts. I pluck those stars from the fucking sky. I have had three shots at titles since I've been here. Fought Santos to a draw, laid down for Lacklan for a big payday (That's right, did it before Thunder Knuckles, I'm an innovator.) and this one. Three in my career here because I wait, I bide my time and I don't care enough about gold that will turn my waist green. All that means when I challenge for a title, it actually means something! Because I'm smart, I know fans and I know how to draw them in. I know how to make a match a big fucking deal. You? You run after a shot until you're panting and like the fat kid in the fedora commenting on a girls Instagram, you look desperate. You try too hard and chicks don't dig that. So while you jump up at that main event carrot dangling far above your head, I wait until the main event carrot is served on a silver platter and hand-delivered to me."
"Because I'm sick and you're shit."
"Now, I know you're going to invest whatever miserable amount of money you had left after you bought that TV shot on a noose after you lose to me because there will be literally nothing in your life left once I kicked you around South Africa like I was a rich white man getting a poor black dude off his property before the apartheid BUT I really don't want a suicide on my conscious. I have enough trouble with PR as it is."
"SO!"
"I thought I'd do you a solid. When you lose to me and you almost die from dehydration from crying like a little bitch in the centre of the ring, screaming at the top of your lungs for someone else to throw you a bone instead of actually working to achieve something by yourself. I will help you back on your feet and help you achieve your dream of losing to another Universal Champion."
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your time to visit Big D's GoFundMe!"
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