Noah Jackson: ENDGAME



After that weird fucking interview Wednesday night which ended in my false arrest and after I was in a good mood on Saturday and decided to let that cunt Deacon have the win; I decided to treat my generous behind with a trip to the movies to watch the highly anticipated Avengers: Endgame. It was pretty sick. I exit the theatre to a small crowd of people talking amongst themselves, still thinking about the gnarly movie.

“Fuck me cunt, can’t believe Iron Man died.”

The crowd get pissed.

Some cunt: “C’mon man, we were just about to watch it!”

“You’re salty about that you’ll be fuming when Cap dies of old age like a sad cunt.”

They get a bit more pissed and some cunt throws a can at me but I dodge that weak shit like a fucking king and give him the finger guns. On my way to my sick as fuck Volkswagen Golf-R, I can’t stop thinking about the film. Especially the way they went back in time to gather the Infinity Stones and also that bird Black Widow dying, she was fucking tidy! My mind then turns to my chance at winning the Hart Title from some chubby, little cunt called Tony Santos. Fucking hell, I wish I could make this easier. Santos seems like dog shit but if I could just get that title as easy as possible it will sure make my life better, got my hols in Benidorm soon. I don’t wanna be training, I wanna be packing my bags and getting my base tan sorted on the beds before I go so I can be nice and bronze. I want myself looking like that statue they erected of me in my hometown… Or I told them to erect.

Ha, erect.

Suddenly, it strikes me like a lightning bolt to the down unders. 𝕋𝕀𝕄𝔼 𝕋ℝ𝔸𝕍𝔼𝕃, ℂ𝕌ℕ𝕋. Just like how those sick Avengers got the infinity stones, if there was some way I could go back in time and stop Tony Santos from being born, I’d walk into an empty ring and with the Hart Championship by default!

Noah, you clever cunt! You’ve done it again and I know just the man to help me.

I spin a sweet donut in the car park which totally makes all the Sheilas around me wet; cunts will be putting up wet floor signs for days courtesy of ol’ Noah Jay and speed off releasing loud bitching pops from my exhaust.

***STAR WIPE***

Luckily and fucking conveniently, the man I’m looking for was teaching a seminar in Auburn so is a quick call to find him and a nice drive to get to the cunt. I walk down the hall of some shitty hotel and give a knock the door and wait.

The door slowly opens to a confused and buff man, shirtless of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less; I throw my arms open with a wild grin.



“Jean Claude Venn Diagramme! How you doing old mate!?”

The Brains from Brussels chuckles and we do a manly hug, a manly hug! No gay shit. Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, I mean I’m all for equal rights and shit.. Fucking hell Jean say hello, cunt!

“Noah, it is pleasant to see you again.”

I clap Jean’s shoulder and let myself into his room.

“The pleasure’s all mine, cunt. You got any beers round here?”

He chuckles.

“Alcohol only leads to inebriation and dulls your senses and motives, there is no need.”

“I forgot how much of a dull cunt you are. Fine, can I have some Smartwater?”

“Of course, help yourself.”

I grab a bottle from the large cooler sat neatly on the end counter beside the couch, I take a sip looking around at the spotless room.

“Maid’s done a good job here, mate.”

“I took it upon myself to keep my temporary abode at satisfactory cleanliness, I feel having an outside body tidy for me only leads to unnecessary mistakes.”

I tap the bottle, staring at the cunt.

“This was a mistake, I’m gonna go.”

“No please, I apologize for my dryness in pleasantries, please tell me what brings you here.”

He takes a seat on a chair and motions for me to sit on the couch. I indulge him.

“Well, I’m currently at XWF and I’m in a match for a Championship Title.”

“Congratulations.”

“Cheers, mate. Anyway, I’m up against this fat cunt called Tony Santos and I want to beat him without breaking much of a sweat, so I would like to go back in time and stop him from being born. Figured you’ll be able to help.”

He raises his eyebrows briefly and lets out a sigh.

“Noah, I’m good but I’m not that good. Time travel isn’t possible, I’m sorry.”

“Tony Stark figured it out in an afternoon, cunt!”

“Tony Stark is a fictional character.”

“Yeah made up by some nerds! Nerds figured out time travel for him, you’re a nerd, cunt. Figure it out!”

Jean gives a sigh and scratches his chin.

“Well, I have been theorizing on how it could be done but in practice it’s impossible.”

My body goes limp on the chair in exasperation.

“Iron Mate said it had to do with a Mobius strip bullshit.”

Jean’s body goes stiff as he looks to me.

“By god, that’s it!”

I calmly watch as he stands to his feet and pulls out a chalkboard and goes to town on that cunt. After a minute of scribbling, he stands back and lets me see his scrawlings.

“If we can somehow break through the barrier of light it should make time as we know it non-linear, by doing that you can pass through our time into a stream of time where this Tony Santos is not yet born, allowing you to stop his birth in his timeline which should have a knockback effect on all other timelines causing him to cease to exist in this timeline. In theory anyway.”

“But wouldn’t just killing him in a separate timeline not do anything in this timeline?”

“Time doesn’t work like that, think of it a mess of weaving strings blanketing the universe as we know it. Even if you follow one string and cut it at a certain point, it will inevitably damage all other strings connected to it.”



I see where this cunt is going. I walk over to the chalkboard and add my personal touches.



“By Jove, I think you’ve got it.”

“Right, so how we gonna gank this cunt?”

“We’re going to need some kind of transport that we can modify to break the light barrier.”

“Chuck a flux capacitor into the cunt?”

“In so many words, yes. Perhaps your car?”

“You can fuck right off you brainy cunt, ain’t no one touching me wheels.”

He rubs his chin in thought.

“We require something capable of hitting a certain speed and allowing my modifications to do the rest.”

I rub my chin.

“How bout a go-kart?”

“Excuse me?”

“Go-kart, cunt. Low to the ground, four wheels, zippy little thing.”

“Yes, Noah I know what one is my confusion was to how your mind went there.”

“Well me and my grandad used to build one in the shed and take it for spins round the estate. We used to do it all the time until I ran him down and put him in that iron lung. RIP Grandad.”

I kiss my fingertips and show some love to hell. I loved my grandad but he was a nasty cunt to the aborigines and minorities so he’s for real in hell.

“Well, I suppose it will do. I have most of what we need lying around the lab.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You just so happen to have components to build a go-kart from scratch as well as materials to build a flux capacitor or it’s royalte-free equivalent?”

“Why are you questioning this?”

“Fair point, cunt. My ma said never look a gift roo in the pouch. Tell you what we’ll head over to the lab, you can get cracking and I’ll cut myself a promo on that cunt, Santos.”

“If you succeed you wouldn’t need to cut a promo against him.”

“Yeah true but where’s the fun in that?”

***STAR WIPE***

I sit on a counter in some college lab, messing around with a beaker, just juggling the cunt like a pro. I look to the sneaky XWF cameraman that’s been following me since I’ve signed my contract but can’t verbally acknowledge like everyone else in the fed. I proceed… Wickedly.

“Look at that Tony, someone showed up.”

“It’s ya boy, top cunt, the hardest worker in the XWF, the vegemite of wrestling, your god-king. Noah fucking Jackson. Now, Tone gotta say you’re basically like the invisible man round here. Some cunt showing fewer blips on the radar than a German U-Boat with much less of a threat attached. I don’t know much about you Tone, practically nobody does nor do I really care. I’m guessing you know dick all about me either nor do you care because you seem like a predictable little fuckwit who just skates on the obvious hoping you fall face first into a decent dig or a win while showing the least effort possible.”

“I beat Centurion, cunt. Pinned him clean with no help; sure there’s some bullshit about bribing a referee but if I did do that it was simply out of the kindness of my heart to let Ned and Cent save face. Kaye’s got an undeserved Uni title shot, he can’t go against that paper champion Main after being shoved face down in the dirt by yours truly. Can’t let Centurions reputation be spoiled by a young whippersnapper such as myself, no cunt. I’m the kind soul who took the high ground and gave them an out… If I did bribe the ref. Which I didn’t because that’s cheating and I’m a good boy.”

“But Tone, I’m giving you an out, cunt. I’m stopping you from ever being born so you can feel good while you're a scatter of atoms in the wind knowing that you won’t suffer the shortest Hart title reign in history after winning the belt in a sham of a match. I’m good enough to allow you to save face, mate.”

“I’m the hero here, cunt.”

“I’m Iron Man using the infinity gauntlet to kill Thanos while you’re fat Thor who is only around for comic relief. I’m Captain America being worthy enough to wield Mjolnir while you’re Hawkeye’s shit haircut. You don’t deserve to be the Hart Champion! I fucking do, cunt! I fucking fought on Anarchy, Warfare and Savage and if I didn’t have prior engagements I’d be a captain at War Games planting the Australian flag into the bodies of the losing team. I’m the hardest worker here, the heart and soul of the XWF! I’ve barely even gotten a foot off the boat and I still have more of a presence than ninety percent of the fuck boys and girls here! Sure, Lacklan won’t shut up so therefore every cunt has to know about how many hot dogs she can fit in her snatch but no one cares! The Perfect Sleet have their daily down syndrome awareness parades but every cunt wants them dead. Me!? When I talk people listen. I get a rise out of people. I make people think, I make people invested! What the fuck do you do, Tone? Fuck all and fucking nothing with a side of fucking apathy.”

“You’re a boring fucking nobody cunt.”

“Some chubby little prick who managed to get lucky enough to stumble onto a Hart win after disappearing for a length of time that nobody bothered to count. You could have been someone long ago but now, no one gives a shit, mate. You’re irrelevant, you mean so little I’m legit struggling to insult you because I would need a microscope to see how little of a threat you pose to me. In fact.”

I pick up a microscope and look through the cunt.

“Ah fuck me, cunt! Appears as if Tony Santos’ threat level is along the lines of mould. Slowly spreading and ruining everyone’s sandwiches. What a sad fucking day.”

I yeet the microscope across the lab and smash a few odds and ends, hope Jean doesn’t mind.

“Luckily all we need to do with mouldy bread is chuck it in the bin. Shit cunt, you might as well be a bin with how fucking garbage you are. The sheer fact that the Hart Title is tucked under your fat rolls is a disgrace; it will be my pleasure to take it from you when you do us all a favour and cease to exist.”

“We’re ready.”

I look over to the side to see Jean peeking his head through the door.

“Look at you, you speedy cunt. Nice work.”

Jean smiles briefly but looks around the room.

“What happened to my lab equipment?”

I hop off the counter and walk to the door.

“Raccoons, cunt. Sneaky fuckers, aren’t they.”

I walk past Jean and he soon follows me outside; I stand before a blanket covering something. Where the fuck is the go-kart? He said it was ready!? Has this cunt just been organising this blanket the entire fucking time!? What a cunt. He rushes ahead in front of me and stands next to the blanket.

“Noah, are you ready to see your time machine?”

Oh that’s what was under the blanket. It all makes sense now. I nod and Jean throws the blanket away, I stand in awe.



“Fucking gnarly, cunt! That is sick, Jean! Look at its little fucking wheels! I love it, cunt.”

“Noah, when you take this thing downhill it will hit terminal velocity, my mechanisms will then do the rest of the work sending you through the time-space continuum, the hardest part for you will be to turn the kart into the moment in time you wish to enter.”

“Fuck me, cunt. I gotta turn into the right year? That sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

“Yes.”

“Aaaaaarrrgh, I dunno cunt, seems like a lot of work.”

“Noah, I’m not letting you back out on the greatest scientific discovery of all time because you ‘don’t feel like it.’”

“Ugh, fine! Grab me a stubbie though will ya?”

Jean passes me a small SmartWater bottle. What a cunt.

“Also, take this.”

He then hands me a sweet mobile phone with bullshit popping out of it.

“This phone will be connected to one I have, just call if you ever get stuck. I’ll try my best to work out a way to pull you out, all you need is to just be near the kart and the rest is up to me.”

“Sick.”

I pocket the phone and swig my water, I then hop into the kart and smack the side for Jean to push me into position atop a steep hill.

“We’re gonna make history today, Noah.”

“Yeah, cunt. Next time you’ll see me I’ll be the first ever Australian Hart Champion!”

I look back in glee to Jean’s slight grin; he begins to pull and push on the kart.

“You ready?”

“Let’s fucking have it, cunt!”

He gives a strong push and sends me speeding down the hill, I try my best to keep the kart steady as I hit high speed. My knuckles turn white as the g-forces go to h-forces or whatever. The scenery in front of me speeds past in a blur of colours; I feel my cheeks rippling and the cracks of thunderous sound in my ears. I race towards the barrier at the bottom of the hill as things start to go white then blue only to white again; the bursting of my eardrums, the force hitting me as if it was ripping away my flesh.


Suddenly…






Everything goes white…






***We go to Jean at the top of the hill, his hands holding the sides of his head as he witnesses the fiery explosion at the bottom of the hill***

“Oh shit!”

…



…



…



…



…


…


…

…
..
.



DUN-DUN DUN DUN-DUN



DUN-DUN DUN DUN-DUN