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+---- Thread: A terrible night for a beautiful woman * RP4 of ∞ (/showthread.php?tid=949)
A terrible night for a beautiful woman * RP4 of ∞ - Mister Mystery 17 31707 1 - 02-20-2013
Have a listen and I hope you enjoy. My scene has already opened long ago but I'm welcoming you all into it now at precisely 10:55 in the PM. Much of the XWF roster would be and should be paying attention to Wednesday Warfare's event around this hour, but me? Mister Mystery 17 31707 1? I'm completely unaware of what that meaningless show has going on, because I'm not on it, so instead I am ready for a grand adventure. Tonight is the night I fulfill my desire for the attention and touch of something most of you will never know -- a woman. Something about the recent turn of events with Sebastian and his whore have left me in the mood and when I get in the mood, I need to do whatever it takes to fill my desires so that I don't end up going on a slaughtering spree and getting locked up before my big match Saturday. The streets of Queens, NY are as good of a place as any. I lean up against the dirty brick wall of an apartment building as I light my cigarette and then close the Zippo lighter with a quick flick of my wrist. My blood stained hockey mask just happens to have small holes near the mouth, just the right circumference to stick a Kool Filter King through to serve one of my many, many, many addictions. I take a drag and I hold it longer than most people would ever do, until I feel that slight bit of lightheadedness and I release the smoke through the holes in my blood stained hockey mask. I am completely silent -- one with my most private thoughts -- as I remain leaning against the wall, watching the occasional passerby look at me weirdly and walk a little faster to escape my general vicinity. I take another deep drag of my Kool and this time I slowly allow the smoke to rise up out of my mouth and ascend above me through the holes of my mask. Even the eye holes of the mask serve as escape routes for the beautiful, white, delicious clouds escaping my lungs ever so gently as I watch another person observe my calm behavior but still hurry away from me as if I were coming after them. I look down at my cigarette and see that it's already almost half finished after just two drags. I see the silhouette of a young lady down the sidewalk, approaching steadily, paying attention to nothing around her but her phone in her hand. I take another massive, fiendish drag of my Kool -- inhaling with such fury that my body shakes -- and then several seconds later I begin to smile underneath my mask as the smoke exits my orifices. I take a look at my Kool and now it's got less than half left. As the young lady gets closer I can begin to see some of her distinguishing features under the flickering street lamp above. She has her blonde hair tied back loosely and it bounces with every step she takes; her black knee high boots clicking louder and louder on the pavement as she gets closer and closer. What a beautiful plaid skirt she's wearing on this dark night, and the top couple of buttons on her shirt being left undone is a perfect touch. This girl is asking for attention; this girl is craving to be noticed; this girl has no clue how noticed she is. A very true thought indeed as I take another puff from my smoke. We're almost getting to the point where the cigarette isn't going to be long enough to reach my lips through the mouth holes of my blood stained hockey mask any longer, and we know what that means. "Ahh!" -- The sudden, startled, perfectly natural reaction to being lost within your own little world and then noticing out of the corner of your eye that a man wearing a blood stained hockey mask is leaned against the very wall you're walking past. I don't react; I don't even flinch or say a single word. "Creep! What the fuck!" -- She's so right; she has no idea how right she is as I glance down at my cigarette again, completely ignoring her and not even bothering to make unnecessary eye contact. For so long as I've got nicotine in my hand, she isn't worth so much as a simple eye to eye glance. The Kool still has just enough length left for one, last, drag. I watch the smoke rise up from the "short" as some may call it now in its present state as I hold it between my gloved fingers. It's a damn good thing my gloves are skin tight or it would be even more cumbersome to handle this short Kool Filter King and manipulate it through the mouth holes of a blood stained hockey mask for each puff I take. I barely pay attention to this ignorant cunt who runs away at a half-assed speed, as though that would be enough to escape my wrath if I decided to give chase. I hear her boots click clack on the pavement; farther, farther, farther in the distance as I slowly raise the Kool one last time to take that final breath of refreshing poison into my lungs. I close my eyes and pull the cigarette away, flicking it ahead of me into the street as I envision what is sure to come in just a few minutes or less. I can here a new set of feet steps approaching as the smoke is held within for the longest amount of time yet. I keep the smoke held in and my eyes clamped shut; it's much more invigorating this way. Not knowing your prey's visual proportions but only knowing they're coming closer -- you should all try it some time. I let both of my arms hang freely beside me as I press my back against the brick wall behind me and let the back of my head also rest against it now. To anyone looking on I probably look like I'm ready to pass out against the wall, or like I'm on some kind of drug. If only it were that simple; if only a drug could be what explained what surges within me. It's time to release the smoke and open my eyes. I force the cloud of smoke out of my lungs abruptly and it blasts through the holes of my blood stained hockey mask as my eyes shoot open. IT'S TIME. If only she could see how wide my smile just got when I saw exactly who and what she was. This is going to be the night of my life. Me: "Well, well, well" -- ((I pause; this is just too good to be true. I let the reality of the situation sink in for just one more blissful second)) -- "What can I do for you, officer?" |
It wasn't hard to lure this little mouse back out of its hole. Sebastian is back trying to jump start his mouth and failing to notice it's not even running properly. That's not the best of it though -- we got a two for one special because now I've gotten his worthless partner to show me that he's even a bigger joke than Sebastian. All it took was one half eaten, rotting, moldy piece of cheese being sloppily dropped a few feet away from their hiding place and low and behold; Duke's partner happens to be obsessed with cheese. Can this get any easier? Sebastian Duke -- the puppet dangling at the ends of the very strings I ripped from the lining of his own delusional sense of superiority. How does it feel to know that the bait you took was poisoned, corrupt, and worthless? The real treat comes after you've complained to the waiter and sent the original piece of garbage back to the kitchen.
I'll be your waiter for this evening, Sebastian. I'll be the man serving you your poison and then taking it back to replace with a much better looking dish, which you will no doubt wolf down in no time flat because -- quite frankly, my dear -- you've but no other choice and you know it. I'm running circles around you and my boots are caked with mounds of mud and weighing me down. What's going to happen Saturday when I shed my filth and show you what you think you already know?
I've already claimed it loud and proud for all to hear -- I AM SID FEDER. Don't you fucking believe me?
Yet here you still remain, claiming to know who I really am and making hints that don't even add up in the grand scheme of things. I've got you so wrapped around my pinky that it's not even funny and rather than flick you away I want to see you continue gnawing on my finger nail and telling me how it tastes; telling me what you supposedly know when you don't even properly know those you surround yourself with on a daily basis.
What's worse is what I expected to be better -- your partner, if you can even call that thing you've got running with you a partner. This better be a hoax because otherwise I might as well hand you both the shovels so you can finish digging your own graves while I let Linn suck me off just like she did Griffin MacAlister.
For those who have no idea what I'm referring to because you can't sit through a Sebastian Duke promo, I'm talking about how utterly hilarious it was when Sebastian discovered that his supposed "wife to be" has had previous experience with a man who is one of the scummiest people on this roster -- Griffin MacAlister. What's even better is that I'm not talking about Linn and Griffin being a couple in the past; no no, that would have been too simple; see as it turns out we have a case of Sebastian Duke discovering that the love of his miserable life had secrets of her own! The supposed leader of some cockamamie secret society has found a woman with even better secrets than he possesses! How appropriate! Linn was actually a full on, no doubt about it, whore on the streets; serving men day and night for a little loose change here and there. I can sit next to a dumpster with my mask on and some filthy clothes that I took from a bum I recently snapped the neck of, and I can be given just as much loose change in a day as Linn was receiving in return for letting scumbags like Griffin MacAlister fuck her in the filthiest of all her lips -- the ones she speaks from with that horrid, grinding, torturous voice of hers. ACK! I can hear it now just thinking back to it and I'm actually comparing it to a voice I've heard years ago when I was bored one night and picked up a hooker.
Sebastian -- forget Griffin MacAlister -- has your whore banged me as well? I can't remember the faces but that voice; oh, that penetrating voice that makes you want to stuff a pillow over her face to shut her up. I think.. I really do think it's possible that I've paid your Linn for sexual favors in the past. I'm also willing to bet your own mystery partner -- "THE Worst Mystery Partner in History" -- has probably done things with her on top of that.
Good thing you took that little dog from her before you sent her off! Now you can question the dog about what kinds of sexual acts she's performed on it, in exchange for a doggie treat. Where do you find these people you associate with, Sebastian? I don't think it's your schtick to surround yourself with absolute scum on purpose, but here you are with a woman who has probably fucked around with multiple men (and possibly women) on our roster, and our roster is only a small portion of the human population. Do the math, shit head. Do the math and tell me what that tells you and then let's see what hilarious excuse you come up with to give that worthless whore another chance. You know you will -- and why is this? -- because you know damn straight that you can't find another female to give you the time of day. Oh the hilarity; I almost feel bad for you. When you next speak to her, let her know I'm still waiting for my change from that five dollar bill I gave her. She ran off before she could give me my $3.75 back and I want it. You bottom feeding piece of shit and I'm not even talking about wrestling when I say this; I'm talking about you finding the dirt beneath the garbage that most men would kick around when it comes to the female gender. You went and sifted through the standard trash and found something stuck to the bottom of it all and you pried it up with a crowbar, and because it stuck to you, you decided you wanted to make it your wife! Well at least you've discovered this before still going through with the marriage and spending the rest of your miserable days with her. At least you can swallow it just like she swallowed Griffin's load, and now you can move past it and come to terms with it in order to go through with the marriage!
If I were to give you a piece of advice, I'd tell you to wring her little neck and stuff her into a black bag and toss her into the bay. Who am I though? I'm just the guy who is going to gash open multiple locations of your body this Saturday and fuck those gashes with a hardened blade. Don't take my advice.