Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

Jenny Myst · (08-11-2022)

"You lost, Bobby! "You lost, you're a loser, Bobby!"

Jenny giggled from the passenger seat. She had been looking out the window the entire time, as if the outside world was new to her.

"I like George Carlin, he's funny."

Ash pulled the car into the strip mall plaza on the outskirts of Los Angeles. "Where are we going, anyways?"

Ash never took her eyes off the windshield.

"Well because of your little stunt at the car dealership, we have to do community service. You're lucky it's not worse."

The 2016 Dodge Charger rolled into the parking spot, and the engine cut. "I was able to talk to an attorney friend back home and he made some calls on your behalf. We settled on a donation to a local charity that should make up for the destruction of that big bastard you destroyed."

Jenny continued to look out the window, her gaze never altering.

"That didn't answer my question. Where are we?"

"Locks of Love."

Jenny's head whipped around. "WHAT?!"

Ash was already out of the car. Jenny followed, shutting the door hard behind her.

Ash kept walking towards the door, Jenny following her in hot pursuit. "Ash, AAASH, wait....wait up hold on".

They get to the door and she pushes it open. They are greeted by a receptionist who smiles at them.

"ASH, Ash wait, we don't have to do---"

"Hi, yes I have an appointment for my friend here. Name is Jenn--"

"ASH!"

"Yes, you called earlier, right? Ms. Quinn?"

"Correct-a-mundo."

"Take a seat, a stylist will be with you shortly."

Jenny felt a nervous breakdown coming on. It was almost as if she could actually feel each individual hair on her arms stand up, and her muscles were so tight they were beginning to cramp.

"You're gonna love this place!"

Ash basically had to drag her to the waiting room chair. Jenny was dead weight. Her legs just refused to work. She nervously glanced up at the fan and could swear she heard each rotation of the long flat pedals. Whooosh....Whooosh.....Whoosh....Whoosh.

Her eyes darted in all directions, desperately seeking something to end this. The giant window sat in front of them, only about 50 or so feet. She could make a mad dash for it. Jump through. She didn't care if she bled, she enjoyed bleeding....no, no, too big of a scene. She could slam her head really hard on the table with all the magazines. Maybe she'd hit it hard enough to....no....no, that's not a high percentage. Her eyes darted back to the front desk. There had to be something on here. Maybe a stapler to the temple or strangle herself with the phone chord or stab herself in the eyes with the pen that the receptionist

Won't

Stop

Fucking

Clicking

The buzz in her ears was like 20,000 mosquitoes all buzzing around her at once..

She was having a breakdown of Bourbon proportions, and she didn't know how much more she could fucking----

"Jenny"

Her own name broke the buzz.

"Right this way."

Her entire world came rushing back, she could feel the color coming back into her face. She went to stand, but couldn't. He entire body was now noodle limp instead of rigid.

Ash had to drag her to the barber chair, Jenny's shoes skidding on the floor. Ash gets her into the chair and they put the cover over her torso.

"So what are we doing today?"

Jenny stared into the mirror at the blonde mop staring back at her. Blonde stringy mop with severely faded pink highlights on the end of each pigtail.

Jenny looked into the mirror. Looking at what she had become. She was her, through and through, but it was time for a change. It was time to do what Bobby refuses to do, and make some minor tweaks to her style in order to progress. "Umm, maybe 1-2 inches off and make the ends brighter" she said in a shaky voice.

"You got it!"

Above the mirror was the logo of the salon. LOCKS OF LOVE, LOS ANGELES.

Jenny began to laugh. Full on, belly laughs. She shoulders shook from laughter, tears streamed down her face. The stylist stepped back, unable to continue with so much movement.

"Jenn what is so funny?"

"I--thought--I thought you were taking me to the hair donation place!" she said through a choppy current of laughter. "I thought you wanted to shave my head!"

"Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"We do donate hair to the charity, matter of fact. With your permission, of course. But we are affiliated in some way."

Jenny snorted a few times, with some harsh inhales. She was trying to stop laughing.

She finally calmed herself down.

"So, let me ask you...what the hell is Bobby talking about with all this word count and RP of the month stuff? What the hell is an RP?"

Ash shook her head.

"The bastards are in bad shape. TK is having heart palpitations, Bobby's having a breakdown, and Charlie sees is all coming apart at the seams."

"They seemed to be okay, Charlie and Bobby were high-fiving and running laps together the other day."

"Well good. Both of them could use the exercise. Maybe if Charlie worked out more he wouldn't fizzle out in every match that matters. And Bobby needs all the cardio he can get for the beating I am going to give him Saturday Night."

The stylist was running Jenny's hair through the curls and the pink dye. She chimed in as the two went back and forth.

"Umm....sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned RP...right?"

"We did."

"That means roleplay. It is an online term for when someone acts out a fantasy and each one plays a role and you act out some sort of story."

Both women looked at her before back at each other, mouthing "NERD".

"....but the main idea of roleplaying is that you ARE the scene, not on the outside looking at a scene."

"Your point?"

"Wouldn't mentioning a roleplay inside a roleplay be like exposing the business of what you're doing and therefore be grounds for disqualification from said roleplay?"

Both women's eyes went wide. How the hell?

"And you mentioned he said something about word counts? Do you guys do something cool like fiction writing or something?"

"Something like that"

"Beating him? Like a dungeons and dragons sort of thing?"

"Lets go with that."

They changed the topic. They talked about the weirdest hair styles she has ever had requested, Karen's who come in, people who want to use Bitcoin to pay for a hair cut, you name it. They laughed the entire time, and when they were done Jenny actually felt much better. As she went to get out of the chair, she looked back at the stylist.

"So this place is great. I will certainly be visiting again next time I am in Los Angeles! But can I ask, how long have you guys been here?"

"We opened our doors in 2016" she said with a smile as she printed out the receipt.

"Oh, wow! Me too!. My opponent didn't know that, but he is a big dummy. Anyways, thanks again!"

Here is a word count for you Bobby: FUCK YOU

"You sad sack of shit. You just can't get out of your own way, can you? You just have to open that dick trap of yours and let the verbal baby batter drizzle down your lips because you think it gets you over when in reality all it does it make us facepalm until we lose feeling in our wrists. You just have to get your point across, even if its asinine. Speaking until someone will listen. Nobody does. Not anymore. Night after night, week after week, month after month, year after year its the same shit Bobby, and quite frankly we're tired of it. Nobody cares about you anymore. You're so pathetic you have two barely one hundred pound women calling you a pissbaby in the same week, and you've done nothing to prove us wrong. Literally nothing. You just push your narrative for longer and more aggressively each time, keeping your fat fingers crossed that maybe it will work this time. There is a reason you haven't been more successful here Bobby, and that reason is cut and dry. YOU. YOU decided to fuck around and find out, getting yourself stripped of the only singles title you've ever held here. That's right Bobby, you held the Universal Title for two months before Big Daddy Vin became bored with your shenanigans and got the belt out, pun intended. A two month reign ended with you standing in the ring like a sniveling bitch boy while bossman laid down the lumber. Where was this brash Bobby then? Where was this over the top, destroy anyone in your path, arrogant douche then? Oh that's right, he had big dick Vin's big dick tickling his tonsils while the world laughed at how pathetic he looked. The little embarass your boss stunt you pulled with Theo was soooooo 1998 Bobby, we've seen that act before. Truth is, you've been grabbing their junk since I've known you, only instead of squeezing you've been positioning it directly behind your anus---

My point here is that you only TALK about how good you are, but the GrandPoobob has been a giant pile of grandPOO...bob. You've never held a singles title here outside of the one I just pie-faced you with.

Buttttt waiiiittt, Jennnyy......Bobby Bourrrbboonnn was a TVVV CHAMMP TOO!

Ugh.

THIS belt, I am not even counting. Less than a month, Bobby. Less than a fucking month before a woman a quarter of your size concussed your ass and took Ms. Goldi away from you. Sure, Betsy Granger helped, but what kind of validation is that?

I think you love getting your ass handed to you by women.

It drives you, probably some sick fetish thing. Thank you sir, may I have another? You referred to yourself as the "Sultan of Smack-talk" then, but the only thing you were the sultan of was getting your shit pushed in by women who weigh the same as your thigh.

Anyway, back to regularly scheduled programming.

The only gold you've ever put around your waist for any respectable run have been TAG straps....because, once again, you're only as strong as who you have around you. You aren't good enough to do it on your own and when you are you fuck it up royally. Like Trump administration level of fuck up. You've proven that, but link up with someone more talented than you are, and you shine like platinum rims in sunlight. I wonder how TK and Charlie feel about being your AAA.

Hell Charlie even admitted to stealing a Universal Title shot right out from under your pig nose his first month in this company. You have been shit on left and right and you still run back to these "bastard brothers" of yours because you know that being the bottom for Main Eventers is better than being one for the entire XWF community, which you undoubtedly would be on your own.

You're so fucking caught in your own delusions, trying to discredit me and spin my words on me, that you don't even realize how much of a total full diaper you sound like. Perhaps all those empty calories have affected your brain capacity as well, so let me help you out here. Free of charge.

*clears throat*

Not only was I in XWF as a valet and an iatrical part of the success of the Universal Champ at the time, but we were IN THE RING TOGETHER. I had to look at your stupid face live and in person!

WEDNESDAY NIGHT WARFARE, NOVEMBER 23rd, 2016

Tig O'Bitties: Ladies and gentlemen, the following match has been CHANGED to a triple threat! Introducing first, he is the man of the people... ROBBIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE BOURRBOOOONNNNNN!!!

Tig O'Bitties: And his opponent... accompanied to the ring by Jenny Myst... CHRIIIIIIS CHAAAOOOSSS!!!

Suddenly, Bourbon laughs. He points at Chris Chaos and laughs harder, then points at Jenny Myst outside of the ring!

YOU FUCKING MORON

Do you listen to yourself when you speak or have you given up on it like the rest of us? I hadn't debuted? Sure, I didn't get inside a wrestling ring as an active competitor until 2017 but I was more than an active figure in the annuls of XWF lore by then. I was grooming a World Champion, providing emotional and physical support to the best thing to hit this business at the time. Interfering in matches, working deals back stage to give him the best advantages possible. What were you doing? Stroking your massive fucking ego and thinking you were untouchable all while doing the same thing you've become known for round these parts. Taking a dive and landing on your dumb.fucking.face. Yes, I was there, backstage at the show when you jumped off the cage and whiffed harder than an autistic kid at tee ball (hmm, pretty sure that was 2016 too, wasn't it?) and I watched as Chris Chaos became the one thing you failed to be.....

A true champion.

I was building an empire, becoming the number one commodity around here, and all the headlines I was receiving. You were busy falling on your face time and time again. I was setting Chris up to be the poster boy for greatness, while you were galivanting as the poster boy for wasted potential. I saw what I made him, I saw my pet project turn into the apex predator, and the world was in MY palm. It wasn't until his ego got the best of him and he began to unravel that I had to step into the squared circle and make my IN RING DEBUT 2017. Since then I have been racking up accolade after accolade while you've stayed the same annoying cockstain you've always been. Build yourself up, win a couple of matches, then take a dive. Rinse. Repeat. You're a shitty closer Bobby. You got carried by Arby Beef (you didn't even win those, you found them in the trash), you get carried by the Bastards, and even now, when the chips are stacked to the ceiling and the payouts are as high as they have ever been--you take potshots at the only people keeping your giant fucking head above water.

Success here requires you to be a tri-athelon swimmer and you never seem to make it past doggy-paddle. Just paddle away with your stubby arms until they are too tired to move and hope your bastard brothers will throw you that life vest. Eventually, that vest won't be there to save you and you'll sink to the bottom where you belong, drowning in your own mediocrity like the big dumb fucking rock you are. Even in this match, you are so confident you are going to take this title and shave my head bald but where was the stipulation for if I beat you? What happens if I put you down like a dog for the second straight Savage? You don't have one. You are guaranteeing victory just like you guaranteed victory that night in Atlantic City back in 2016 :

Bobby Bourbon's Over Confident Ass Said:"I'm walking out with the belt, fellas."

But you didn't, did you?

Bobby Bourbon's Delusion Ass Said: "The Elimination Chamber, as hellish, as terrible, as cruel as it might be, I will make it my own, the Robbie Bourbon Elimination Chamber, and I will walk out of the chamber the Universal Champion.""

You didn't walk out at all, did ya?

Bobby Bourbon's Stupid Ass Said:"No, fool, I'm the arch-nemesis around here, because I'm the next Universal Heavyweight Champion."

You weren't, though.

Picking up what I am putting down, big guy? Those quotes are from Wild Card Weekend 2016, a Pay Per View I was here for, and what happened? You didn't give an alternative option, and you didn't get the job done. This week on Savage, you're telling the world you're coming for the belt--that by the way your own bastardly brother GAVE the name to but you were so quick to call a stupid name--but you aren't going to get the job done, either. I don't even want to shave your head if I win, because watching your humiliation first hand just like I did back in 2016 will be all the prize I need.

It was adorable though, how you tried to insult me. Tried soooo hard. ".....never really doing anything important besides waiting and holding a championship here and there, by hook or by crook, until you get molly whopped by someone more deserving."

So....what your saying is I have held more belts than you? That I have won more big matches when they mattered than you? That I am tied for the most times holding THIS belt as some of the greatest to do it. That I am a TWO time champion of TWO different belts, the longest reigning holder ever of another, and four titles held overall when you've struggled to win and maintain even one? That when I lost, I lost to someone who is actually talented?

Bravo, Bobby.

You just told the world that I am better than you in every conceivable way that matters.

Bobby Just Never Learns Does He? Said:"I swear, if I were allowed to wear horns or just some blades on my arms, and just get into pure fucking gladiatorial combat, I would, maybe that’s up the road when I defend my TV Title."

In the wise words of the REAL Grand Pooba around here, when he stripped the Universal Title from you because you decided to let yourself get in your own way.....

The REAL Grand Pooba, Vinnie Lane Whilst Deep Dicking Bobby Bourbon on National Television Said: "we got ALL the BS!"

I think we're done here.

Check please."

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Locks of Love
Author	Message