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+--- Thread: The Matador and The Bull (/showthread.php?tid=49184)
The Matador and The Bull - Mark Flynn - 08-18-2025
| 9/27/2021 04:37 |
”Critics are RAVING! Flynn - vs - Duke STOLE Relentless Weekend! FIVE STARS!”
”After sixty grueling minutes… their war ends in a DRAW!”
”No overtime either! Very controversial!”
”Personally, I think XWF COO Theo Pryce was protecting his nephew! Flynn evened the score with seconds remaining… Flynn would’ve DOMINATED Thad in sudden-death!”
”You KIDDING?!? Flynn was punching his own knee to hold his leg together!”
In a dingy Chicago hotel…
…Flynn watches XWF’s Relentless Recap (the night’s third re-run)… Suddenly, his eyes clench…
He squeezes his leg…
Bandages soaked through…
Blood gushes down his knee….
So red, it’s black.
| 8/15/2025 14:36 |
Barcelona’s Airport is TEEMING with wrestling fans. Repping every federation from regional to international.
”¿Lucha libre? Perfecto.” An agent STAMPS a passport. “¡Disfruta su estadía!”
Another…
”Luch-”
…The agent glances up…
A bald… goblin-man. Gray streaks running through a reddish-brown beard…
Wrap-around neck-pillow, sweatpants, sweatshirt... Airport-iest outfit possible.
Mark Flynn.
An Asian 21-month-old strapped in the creature’s chest-mounted baby bjӧrn.
His son (clone-of-his-former-tag-partner), NK.
…The agent smiles. ”¡Bienvenidos, chicito!”
”Fuck!”
”Heheh… He’s mastered… ONE word. The others’ll come…”
”¿…Pasaporte?”
…Flynn reaches into NK’s onesie’s front-pocket…
”Voila! Two passports.”
…The agent eyeballs them...
”Rapidamente, amigo! Got lugares to go and gente to pound.”
”Lo siento.” The agent returns one passport. ”Cribado adicional.”
”Additional screening!?!” Flynn’s teeth grit! ”Ohhhhh… Keepin’ labor rights activists out?!? Don’t want ‘em poisoning locals into WANTING BETTER!”
”No, señor. You… good!”
”Ex-cel-ENTE.”
”Pero, la bebé…”
”...Him?” …Flynn points incredulously at his drooling toddler. “What’ll he do? Flood Barcelona with saliva? How’s my LESS-THAN-TWO-YEAR-OLD a risk to Spanish security!”
…The agent… Taps the passport’s name.
| NorthKoreanWarCriminal Flynn-Bourbon |
…
”Fuck!”
“...You said it, buddy. Look, I’m enterin’... and I ain’t enterin’ without him.”
”Pero…”
”They’re with me.”
A figure steps beside Flynn.
XWF COO Thaddeus Duke. Dressed-to-the-nines.
Duke provides… a diplomatic black card. From the Illuminatus State.
…
”Bienvenidos a Barcelona.”
The three cross.
”...I had that.”
”Right. I should’ve stayed back. Watched my talent fistfight Spanish TSA.”
Above the airport’s exit… A massive banner.
| SMASHED! FLYNN - vs - SAVAGE |
”Remember why we’re here.”
”And who your opponent is.”
…Flynn never takes his eyes off Duke.
”I always do.”
Feels GOOD, TONÉ!
CROSSOVERS!
ARE!
BACK!
Thought these went extinct!
Denzel Porter’s podcasting…
Chris Page’s trapped on WGWF’s Island-of-Misfit Has-Beens…
And Tara Fenix? Lost at sea!
RIP: The Tara Fenix Charity Submersible, Live from the Titanic!
I understand why everybody stopped crossing-over.
Too many crushed egos!
Sure, it’s a great sales pitch!
Wrestling’s precious-est golden calves!
Head-to-head!
‘ONCE-IN-A-LIFETIME!’
RECORD-SHATTERING REVENUES!
…But one calf ends up…
SLAUGHTERED!
Market value? Shredded like carnitas…
And their company’s too!
A federation’s top champion?
Gets their lilly-white ass PUNTED…
Lotta ‘top guys’ exited the Crossover Era looking…
ME-DE-OH-KUR.
…Then, there’s me, Toblerone!
EIGHT-AND-OH ACROSS CROSSOVERS!
First-ever Cannabis Cup WINNER! Over Justin York AND Sebastian Everett-Bryce!
I carried CCPE over… THE WORLD!
On crossovers headlined by ‘margarita-drunk’ James Raven and ‘Couldn’t-win-ONE-XWF-match' Matt Knox?
I’d STEAL the show. Leaving everyone thinking…
Who could follow *that*?
Among wrestling primadonnas, carefully curating their image…
Meticulously hand-selecting opponents to delicately preserve their faux-badassery…
I am…
THAT MAN.
Who’ll fight ANYONE.
FROM ANYWHERE.
ANY NIGHT.
For years, I DOMINATED the crossover midcard.
But, after years of embarrassing ‘TOP GUYS’?
I’m where I BELONG.
The MAIN-EVENT.
As MILLIONS of wrestling fans’ eyes turn toward Barcelona…
There’s ONE name on everyone’s lips…
DOLLY! DOLLY!
Wherever the new Universal champion is in Barcelona, the people scream her name…
”Typical. I outshine the main-event for years… The second I’m there, Dolly explodes into International Mega-Stardom.”
”Jealousy’s unbecoming, Mark.”
”Fuck yourself, Thad.” Flynn beams proudly, as they stroll Barcelona’s streets. ”I couldn’t be happier for that girl.”
”Sure. Mark Flynn loves his allies succeeding. Like when your partner won WarGames… How’d that turn out?”
”If you’re afraid I’ll derail Dolly’s victory parade? Back atcha. How about, this time, you skip locking lips with her so hard she transcends into another ancient Waters matriarch?”
”...One, I’d never hurt Dolly. Two, I’m engaged to Lucy.”
”Right. Duh.” Flynn smacks his forehead. ”If one thing keeps Thad Duke from doing dumb shit, it’s matrimonial rites.”
”Speaking of, do I get my four-slice toaster back from you *or* Sahara?”
”…Always re-hashing the past, huh, Mark?”
”Time’s a flat circle, Thadwick. The players switch spots, but the game never changes.”
”Speaking of the game… I have a proposal.”
”Oh?”
”Dolly’s…currently unsigned.”
…Flynn’s smile widens. ”...I know.”
”She *won’t* re-sign until the Board approves a new Union deal.”
”I KNOW! Got them business bastards over a BARREL!”
”She’s got the chips *now*…”
“But no reign lasts forever.”
”Tell that to ‘Micheal Graves’.”
“The Board wants something… mutually-beneficial.”
“But Dolly won’t take less than EVERYTHING.”
”Fuck yes.”
“Flynn. If she hardballs, they’ll get… drastic.”
“The Revolution’ll wind-up back at square-one..”
”...Barking up the wrong tree.”
“It ain’t the Mark Flynn movement.”
“It’s Dolly’s vision.”
“If it were mine? Think we’d be exchanging BFF4EVA bracelets with BLACK RAINBOW?”
”Exactly! Dolly believes she can perform miracles… save everything… unite EVERYONE! She believes she’s one step from Nirvana.”
”Candy Mountain, actually.”
”If she can’t deal, she’ll lose. Someone must make her see reason.”
”You?”
”Someone she doesn’t consider…”
”Part of the problem?”
…
”Come with me.”
| LAS VENTAS BULLRING |
The trio stroll the bullring’s stables…
”Ahhhhh. The World’s Animal Cruelty Capital. Why’re we here?
Thad points toward the nearby ring.
Bullfighters trains… Rolling with exacting precision, avoiding their charging coach!
”They’re us.”
”Risking life-and-limb for the crowd’s roar.”
“Gambling every move.”
“Miscalculate by a split-second?”
“Dead.”
“Brains spilled upon the mat.”
”You’re building to a point, I assume?”
”You can’t wrap a matador in bubble-wrap or dull the bull’s horns.”
“There’s no FLAG bullfighting… And there’s no FLAG wrestling.”
“The danger IS the entertainment.”
“Guys like Charlie? Want the game rigged.”
Thad taps Flynn’s chest… Then his own.
“People like us? Dolly? We’re matadors. We don’t want special treatment.”
“We want a fair fight.”
”I’m not anti-Union.”
“I want Dolly to win.”
“But she’s gotta see the game as it is.”
“You understand that.”
…
“I understand…”
“YOU see yourself as El Matador.”
“The KILLER.”
“And YOU are.”
“Mister COO.”
“Your talent?”
Flynn points toward the stables.
”We’re the bulls.”
“People fill arenas to see powerful beasts wreak HAVOC!”
“But those beasts remain under control.”
“SUBSERVIENT.
Flynn approaches a corralled bull…
”Uh… I wouldn’t…”
…Flynn respectfully strokes the bull’s side.
The creature… snorts… It welcomes a gentle touch.
”It’s a TRAGEDY when a matador’s hurt.”
“It’s the GAME that the bull DIES.”
“His reward for survival? Another life-or-death battle.”
“Don’t pretend we’re the same, just because you play tourist in the ring we once shared.”
Flynn strokes the bull’s ear… Its tail placidly sways.
“The second you donned Unkie Theo’s su-.”
…Flynn’s eyes widen…
”What?”
…Its ankle…
Blood streams downward…
”What happened?”
…Flynn reddens, furious.
”Its calf muscle’s sliced…”
Ton-Ton.
I consumed EVERY TONY SAVAGE MATCH I COULD FIND.
…Surprised?
Didja think…
MARK.
FLYNN.
Wouldn’t comb through every SECOND…
Of your pitiful, middling career?
Career record: 34-24.
NOT BAD.
…Well, stacked against…
112-34-3.
In comparison?
Shit.
…Still!
UGWC World Champion!
First-ever Entity World Champion!
ActionWrestling Television Champion!
…
But know what I see? Under the data?
You open strong.
Take lumps.
And QUIT.
ZERO gumption.
…
UGWC.
You won their Heavyweight championship.
…Next three singles matches? Losses.
Six-month hiatus.
Returned.
Two-month winning streak.
Lost ONCE.
Gone.
…
ActionWrestling.
TV champ for 2.5 months! UNDEFEATED! SEVEN-AND-OH!
…Followed by…
DROPPING the belt…
Going TWO wins, FIVE losses.
Aaaaaaaand goodbye forever, AW!
…
Entity Wrestling!
Opening Night! Tony wins! FIRST-EVER Entity World Champion!
…One month later.
ONE loss.
Never seen again.
…
My point?
You ain’t got the stomach for a long struggle.
…Instead, you beat opponents QUICKLY.
Average UGWC match-time?
9:28.
But you’re entering an IRONMAN match.
Against the ultimate IRONMAN.
330-day Anarchy championship reign.
Longest ALL-TIME reign in XWF history.
You’ve haven’t *regularly* competed in TWO YEARS.
Just sitting on Twitter, sharing garbage futbol takes.
Losing more edge with every inane thought shooting off your thumbs…
Even at your physical peak?
Your losses… Last longer than your wins.
The longer a match? The slower…
Milder…
Tamer… Savage becomes.
You WERE a wrestler, Tony.
Now? You’re the problem with this industry.
TWEETING about the business…
While your wrestling boots gather cobwebs…
A moneyman.
”Ahhhhh.” The bullfighting coordinator releases the bull’s hoof... ”Your colleague’s right, Señor Duke… This animal has been assaulted.”
”Fuck…”
”Agreed.”
”Who would do this?”
”Some matadors… want a… dominant victory. More impressive by-comparison… if the bull’s… slower… tamer…”
”So much for matadors wanting fair fights, Thaddington.”
”Cowards. So, what’ll you do instead?”
”...Instead?” The coordinator locks the gate.
”...Yes. The bull can’t fight like this.”
The coordinator pockets his key. ”He can fight.”
”…He’s CRIPPLED.”
”Si.”
”It’s unsporting.”
”…”
”Oh, man.” Flynn grins, already anticipating this… ”Thad, you’ve experienced injustice before, right? You new?”
”Injustice? Bull would die before. He’ll die now. Just… less entertaining. Crowd won’t know difference.”
”...How much for the bull?”
”Ohhhhhh. You’ve *really* gotten under Thaddy Warbucks’s skin! He’s reaching for his billfold! HIS ULTIMATE WEAPON!”
”Not for sale.”
”Everything’s for sale.”
”...Stadium sold-out. Rather not find new bull… Bullfights start in an hour. ”
”...You’re sending this wounded animal to die in an hour?”
”Señor Duke, I am businessman, like you. Customers pay for show, I give them show…”
…Thad sees red.
”You and I are noth-”
”Understandable.”
”...What?!”
”The show must go on!” Flynn wraps his arm around the coordinator’s shoulder. “Speaking of, how are front-gate sales?”
”Event’s sold-out, gate’s fine.”
”Man-to-man?” Flynn pats his chest, then the coordinator’s. ”Employees always pocket cash on sold-out nights. Easy money, straight-out-the-till….”
”...How? I know seat count, ticket price… If employees robbed me? I’d know.”
”Suuuuuure… unless... they oversell on the down-low? ‘Standing Room’ tickets, dig?” Flynn pats the coordinator’s pocket. ”Suddenly, you don’t know seat count… Y’know?”
”...Perdóname.” The coordinator exits, suddenly enthused by front-gate supervision.
”...I had that.”
”Suuuuuuuuure.”
”He was about to sell the bull.”
”We already have the bull.”
”How? Gates’s locked.”
…Flynn opens his hand.
Revealing the coordinator’s key.
”Voila.”
…
”One obstacle removed.”
”Ohmigod.” Flynn beams. ”You’re actually in? Emancipating this bull?”
Shuddup. How do we move a 1500-pound bull quietly?”
”That’s the best part!”
“We ain’t going quietly!”
The stadium’s nearly full…
The matadors warm-up…
WHAM!
The bull bursts through the gate!
On horsebull-back…
Duke, Flynn…
”Fuuuuuuuuuuck!”
And NK!
The crowd cheers, thinking this is some pre-show!
The bull slowly stampedes…
”This thing got a second-gear?”
”He’s wounded…”
Several matadors charge the bullriders!
Thad steers the bull’s horns, avoiding their grapple…
As they pass, Flynn kicks one’s face!
”REVOLUCIÓN!”
The matadors retreat!
”DON’T LIKE A FAIR FIGHT, BOYS?!?”
The coordinator emerges from his office, witnessing his roster humiliated by a wounded bull!
”What are you doing?!?”
”Giving your customers a show!”
”And for our final trick!”
The bull charges…
Toward the emergency exit-doors!
WHAM!
The foursome spills onto Barcelona’s streets!
The irony’s palpable, Tony.
I’m working a Crossover.
Celebrating… The ENTITY.
MONEYMAN.
Hosted by PWV’s JUSTIN YORK.
MONEYMAN.
And, representing the XWF…
As Thad Duke’s showpony.
As the people scream for Revolution…
The moneymen’s machine converts their fervor into cash.
…I’ve fought all-year.
Running like a bull.
Through every malevolent structure I can.
…But the cameras roll.
The moneymen collect.
No matter how much I break.
The system stands.
Like a bull can’t stampede so hard, he’ll kill bullfighting?
I can’t out-wrestle injustice in wrestling.
…
What I *can* do.
Is break moneymen stupid enough to enter my ring.
Like I humbled Thad Duke.
Beat corporate stooge, Charlie Nickles.
SHREDDED Justin York.
…
Don’t plan on tweeting Sunday, Tone.
Saturday?
I’m breaking your thumbs off.
O-fuckin’-lé.
*rrrrrrrrrringCLICK*
”…Cyrus?”
”…”
”My plane must transport an additional 1500 pounds..”
”He needs a name… One for a wounded warrior. Something like…”
”Fuck!”
”He’s named.”
”Ohhhh, Thad gets to p-“
”Dolly.”
”…Perfect.”
”…Glad you agree.”
“If WE agree on something?”
“Maybe Dolly *can* work miracles.”