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The Heel of a Face: What Wrestling Is TRULY About - Printable Version

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The Heel of a Face: What Wrestling Is TRULY About - Jenny Myst - 07-07-2017

Jenny began to stir a little, waking up. Yawning "aww babe, what are you doing up? What is on the TV?"

He didn't say anything, just stared straight ahead. He had lost to Jim Caedus, AGAIN, at least according to the record books. But, he never quit. He took Jim to the limit, AGAIN, but he came up short........sigh.....again. Maybe he had lost his touch. Maybe he couldn't beat Jim Caedus and he needed to just accept that fact. Maybe he needed to turn his attention on winning and stop this vendetta with Jim. Caedus was self destructing on his own. Maybe he could swing in and pick up the pieces and pick the bones.......

Maybe, some day........

Thomas Nixon's newest debacle was on XWF TV. Chris felt a poke in his ribs.


"What are you watching?"

"Thomas Nixon released something else for the match".

"Ugh, isn't there a bullet somewhere he could be jumping in front of?" Can we change the station to the weather channel? There are tornadoes in the Midwest and I like watching poor people scramble to save what little they already had."

Chris didn't answer. He watched.

This isn't what wrestling was about. Wrestling was about climbing the ranks, collecting titles, and becoming a legend. Thomas Nixon was doing it all wrong.


"Thomas, you failed to speak in this last promo because you know I am right in everything I said. You let a half-wit hick do it. A man who is more beast than man, and doesn't even care about this match or this tournament. While he is busy fantasizing about fucking Hermoine, you're running on a treadmill. I mean could anyone be any more mentally and emotionally checked out than you? I said it in my first promo and I will say it again, you're hiding behind Brock. You can deny it all you want, but if he can do you're dirty work for you, you'd be perfectly fine with that. That isn't what a champion does, Thomas. Come at me. Tear me apart. You can take some lessons from Caedus, and not just about how to be a TV Champion but how to actually give a shit. As much as I hate him, I have to say......I respect him.

I don't, however, respect you. I never have and there is a good chance I never will. When we beat you and that high school science project gone wrong, and move onto the next round, you will realize the power shift in this company. That I am on my way back up and I am taking the top female competitor in the business with me, you will be left wondering what went wrong. I'll tell you. It's you, Nixon, YOU went wrong. You are the result of a wet dream your mother rolled into. I wonder and I have wondered for some time what exactly makes you tick. Lizards, clones, characters from children's novels. Did I mention lizards? Well then....there you go. You are more focused on impressing your reptilian friends than you are winning another title in this great company.

Sad.

Truly.

Jenny said she doesn't care enough about you to hate you. Well, let me tell you, as a proud member of this roster, I wasn't born with enough middle fingers to let you know how I feel about you. I am going to show you that tomorrow night......When it is all said and done, Chris Chaos is going to a Hall of Famer. Multi-time Universal Champion, Multi Time Tag Team Champion, King of XWF, and the most destructive ass kicker of all time. Thomas Nixon? He's going to go down as the man who has an affinity for lizards. Those two just don't mix.

Nixon you are right.....Cadryn almost beat me. But almost is almost. He DID beat you. And Reno.....I don't even need to explain that. What language are you speaking? Cause it sounds like bullshit.


That’s a thrilling feeling. Brock doesn’t just get what he wants handed to him; he grabs what he wants by the throat and snatches it. That’s the pleasure and euphoria that comes along with carnage.

It sure doesn't look like Brock is "snatching" anything. He is sitting on his lazy Minnesota ass as you sit there and turn your little compound into the 1800's South of the Mason Dixon Line. How will the Lizards ever advance if they are kept down by the one who is trying to save them? If I were the Lizards, Thomas, I would tell you to shove it up your ass and walk out. Then what would you have? Your dick and your right hand, that is about it. Your weird, undersized hand.

And while I am here, let's talk about hands. Lets talk about Brock's little wet dream he had about throwing Jenny around the ring like a dog and his favorite chew toy.........Brock, you're the reason the gene pool needs a lifeguard. You found one in Nixon. If you actually think that is going to happen, you are sadly mistaken. Jenny is a lot more crafty than that. Not to mention she is quick as a cat. I read your bio, Brock, you struggle against opponents with speed. If need be she will run around the ring until you are huffing air, then tag me in and I will spear you into the next century. Plans, Brock. Plans. Something apparently you and Nixon don't have. You have hopes. You have aspirations. But you made it abundantly clear the only plans you have are to eat, fuck, drink and sleep. If this were Pokemon, you'd be Snorlax. Hey, Pokemon can be real, right? Nixon seems to think Lizards are. Brock, you're the biggest man I have face here to date and you very well may be the meanest, but you haven't met me yet. I will hoist all 300 pounds of you onto my shoulders and drop you.....like all the rest before you.......you will be





Equalized."


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The hotel room was dark, just the television illuminated the white-walled room. XWF TV was on, and Steve Sayors was reporting on something stupid--something about the Cadryn situation on Warfare. Yuck.

Her body was feeling better, but her sense of pride was astronomical. The loss to Roxy was behind her. She had beaten Madison in an even more brutal match, and proved herself as the number one female competitor on the roster. She laid her head on Chris's chest with a smile---her first real smile in months.

But she knew this wasn't the end of the road. As she listened to Sayors drone on in the background, her thoughts wandered.


*

The bell rang. They were the victors. Chris, the man she took a chance on 9 months ago. They had done it, they were the new Tag Team Champions. The belt so good in her hands.

For once in her life, she felt like all the pain she had accumulated over the years was worth something. She never won at anything, and nobody gives you points for winning at life.

She smile couldn't be shot off her face with a 12 gauge. She jumped up and grabbed Chris, wrapping her legs around as that ugly moron Tig O' Bitties handed them the titles. There was carnage around the ring, bodies strewn everywhere. Her bottle of pepper spray was empty, but damnit it did its job.

Chris handed her her belt. She hugged it close, then put it over her shoulder as they raised their hands in victory. This was HER company now. The queen bee. All that mattered anymore was her. Fuck everything else. That overweight hick with the fucked up face and the Stetson hat better be ready to scream incessantly about it. Whatever the fuck disease has plagued his face. And that kiss ass goon with the cheap suit Huey. This was HER moment. And Chris's, of course. But She WOULD win these belts because she deserved to win these belts.


*****

She nuzzled up to Chris and started to fall asleep. This was their time. Suddenly, through all the pain, everything felt good again. All was right in the world.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Thomas Nixon doesn't seem to think my opinion matters, and that is fine. I don't care what he thinks. Brock wants to get his hands on me in his dreams. But that is exactly what they are, dreams. Brock can only dream about ripping me to shreds in some sick fetish fantasy. The truth is, I am going to walk right up to Brock and I am going to slap him in the face. I am supremely confident in Chris's abilities to back me up. Thomas the Tank Engine is useless. He can't hold Chris's jock. I am not even going to bother to address Tommy Boy anymore. Thomas, if you want my comeback, you're gonna have to wipe it off your mom's face. Go deepthroat a cactus, for real.

But Brock.....Brock fucking Lesnar. He made me his problem and now he has a problem he DOESN'T want. I may be small, but I am the meanest bitch you will ever come across. You remind me of all the men in my life who have hurt me. You remind me of all the men in my life who thought they could "take what they want". Sure, they did unforgivable things to me but I took something from them--the dignity and pride of keeping me down. The pride and dignity of ruining me. They have damaged me, sure, they have damaged me beyond repair. But they haven't BROKEN me. And you won't break me either Brock. You want to single me out in your dream because you can't fuck a normal girl without the help of Lizard People......not my problem. Maybe they should have cloned a Sable for you too Brock so you won't be so "lonely".

Brock, you are proof that evolution CAN go in reverse. I haven't seen someone as caveman-like as you in my entire life. You may think you are cool, and that the world thinks your cool, but the truth is you are just another muscled up douchebag with shriveled balls and a sense of entitlement that you don't deserve. In fact in pretty sure the REAL Brock Lesnar would be ashamed to call you remotely human, much less modeled after him. I'd like to see things from your point of view but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass.

Brock, I am NOT going to back down. I am NOT going to cower, bow down, and hide behind Chris like Thomas is hiding behind you. If I get my ass kicked, I'll take an ass kicking. But at the end of the day, I will be stronger for it. I will learn from it. I will improve from it.

Brock, I don't think you are stupid. You just have a bad luck when thinking. I am actually happy you only opened your mouth briefly during Nixon's hastily put together set of "promo's", because it's better to let someone think you are an Idiot than to open your mouth and prove it. But you proved it to me, and I couldn't be happier. It just sums up everything I already thought about you. I am coming full force, and giving it all I have. I am going to shock the world by pinning you in front of a national audience. And Jim Ross, you are known for your great lines and memorable commentary. Well Jim I have a line for you to say when I pin this bunsen burner overflow after product.....

It is from James Ashmore Creelman's King King, 1933. You ready Jim? Put the barbeque sauce down and write this down......

It Was Beauty That Killed The Beast."


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