"At what point is Gator just gonna call it quits? Honestly, hasn't he figured out that as soon as he stepped foot in a ring with someone who looks even remotely like me, he was guaranteed nothing but losses. And embarrassment. Because nothing should be worse for someone like Gator than having to get his ass kicked by me, then losing his title to Manson. Despite his claims of that never happening. It'll be the best day ever. And then he'll want to get it back, so I'll sell him my title shot for $50K. And it'll be great, because he still won't win that shit either. Because there's something interesting you guys don't know about Gator. He can't beat anyone who has any real talent, unless he has every advantage in the world. Which is the only reason he managed to win that title match. Because he had advantages. See, he pinned Ice and is claiming that he defeated Manson, because it's easier than admitting that he can't beat Manson in a single's match. Which, I will be helping to prove very quickly. And hey, I'll even see if the Asylum and the Black Circle can stand as lumberjacks for that match. Should be fun, right? Because you know, Maddy totally won't fuck you over just for the hell of it.
That sounds like it would actually give you the proper advantage you need to win. Let's see if you manage to fuck that up like you did with the last month. Go on, come up with some witty response as to why I'm wrong. Or why you're not going to lose or something. It'll be funny for me to hear whatever bullshit you come up with, like it's going to matter. Because, like with every meeting between the two of us, you will lose. You cannot beat me. Not ever. Let me be dead for 100 years, and you get afflicted with Vampirism, so you live forever. Dig my body up, and my corpse will still kick your ass. Have you figured out why that might be, or do you need another month of getting embarrassed by me to figure it out? A fucking clue. I AM BETTER THAN YOU ARE. Plain and simple. So, how about this. Since you like to look into the past and pretend you know something. Why don't you go back into the record room, watch all the old footage of times when you maybe mattered, wrap the tapes of that shit around you like it was toilet paper, and call yourself Jack's Sense of Accomplishment.
Only time you'll ever get an attaboy from anyone again. Because now, people are noticing things. They're noticing that with me back, there's no need for you. Because everything you could possibly do, I can do better. You think you're a good TV Champ? When Swaggy gets his debt paid, I'll take the title from whoever holds it at the time, unless it's Manson, then I'll go for something else. And I will hold the title for exactly one day more than you. Because it'll just spit on your title reign that much more. Actually, fuck. I may hold it for double your reign, just to fuck with you some more. That won't be hard to do. After all, when I look around at the level of competition in the fed, the only real challenger to any title I get would be Doc, and I doubt he'd go after my title. And even if he did, I'm sure I can take him this time. You know, he struggled to put me down after I just got done winning a match, something you're having trouble doing, then I can get him if I'm fully refreshed.
Speaking of, I should probably go ahead and take the time out of my day right now to saw my fucking leg off and give you the edge for tomorrow. Because you're going to definitely need it. It's bad enough they're locking you in a cage, so you can't run away if you tried, but on top of that, they're giving me the distinct advantage of actually being involved in the match. Something tells me management didn't want you to have any chance at all. Have you done something to piss them off, you know, besides be a worthless waste of money? If you can't think of anything, then I gotta tell ya. You musta fucked up pretty bad. Was it that stupid braggart party you threw? Perhaps it's just your general piss poor showing. Or maybe, they realized that they don't need you anymore, not since they have me again. Cause when you came along, I was on my way to getting married on heading on out for vacation. They thought, they might want to keep you around since a duplicate, less successful, me couldn't hurt the sales while I was away. But then, I came back, and now they're just fucking with you wondering when you're going to leave.
I know, I'm having to cover the same shit over and over for you, Gator, but the problem is that you seem incapable of getting it. If you finally understood my point, then what I want you to do is lay down on the ramp. Don't even make it to the ring. Just collapse on the ramp. About 75% of the way to the ring will do. Just fall down, hold your leg, and claim to have torn your ACL. That will signal to the ref's to cancel the match, I become the winner, Manson gets his shot, and you save yourself some shame. You won't be remembered as the guy who got his ass kicked so badly that he pissed himself in the ring. That honor can go to Calypso. Come to think of it, I think Calypso might be smarter than you. He certainly knows to be afraid of me. You, on the other hand, seem to be foolish enough to think you stand a sliver of a chance. Just sad. Nothing but tragedy there. When you were a kid, did your parents tell you those lies about being able to accomplish anything when you grow up? If they did, they should have added the caveat 'Except beat Frodo. That man will be a fucking beast.'
Don't worry, buckaroo. It's not like you're the only person I crushed. Nor will your name appear on my list only once. I might make it a hobby to kick your ass. Eventually, you'll either run away and cry, or you'll learn to admit that you'll never beat me. The best thing? I'm 16 years older than you, also. I get to kick the shit out of some punk ass kid who was learning to drive when I was raising a family. Hell, I probably fucked your mom at some point back when she was still attractive. Wouldn't that be some shit? If it turns out that back when I was partying it up in London I fucked your mom up the ass? Hey! Maybe she got pregnant with my kid, scrambled that bitch up and fed it to you and your dad for breakfast. That'd be the best thing I could ever find out. I mean, right next to finding out that I didn't actually die. Both of which would fuck your day up. If this was all some crazy hallucination in my mind as I was laying dead in Germany after that Shove it, and you never had to compete with me, that'd make your life worth living. Wouldn't it?
Well, unfortunately, I don't think that's the case. I think you're for real going to either fake that injury and be the punk ass who faked an injury to avoid a fight with me, or you're going to be the punk ass whose ass I kicked before he lost the title to he claimed to be so great at defending. I just wish they happened in the same night. Maybe for Christmas we can do it again, and I can take your title. Fuck, make that match Lane and I are scheduled to have, assuming he manages to not run away from it, a triple threat for your title. I can take your title, your dignity, and Lane's dignity in the same fight. Awww, do you think Shane will be nice enough to do that for me? Cause I've been a good boy all year. And somehow I don't hate him anymore. Odd. Anyway, yeah, that should totally happen.
And we'll have Azrael don his super special Mr. Supernova guise, and he can guest ref the match. Bring back old memories for him. Only, this time he'll raise my hand in victory. Then we can take turns kicking you in the ribs. This is getting to be the best idea I've ever had. Lemme call Kristina, she seems to know something about Christmas Wishes. Or Cher Lloyd, she also seems to know about wishes. In the mean time, fuck you Gator. You're still not anywhere near my level. I'm the final boss, and you're the first mini-boss."
Katie is chilling out in her hospital bed watching TV. Tony is asleep in the chair next to her. The door is closed, and no one is supposed to come in to visit Katie. And then boom! The door is thrust open, and smoke fills the room. She starts panicking, and trying to wake Tony up. He groggily mutters something barely intelligible.
"THERE'S SMOKE! TONY! YOU HAVE TO HELP ME GET OUT OF HERE!"
He's fully alert now.
"Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck! KATIE! There's smoke. We have to get out of here!!"
She answers in a very annoyed tone.
"Did I not just fucking say that. We have to leave. Now! Help me."
Something comes flying out of the smoke. Katie and Tony can't make out what it is. Then it hits Katie in the forehead. It's a sticky arrow.
"What the actual fuck is going on?"
A hooded figure slowly emerges from the smoke.
"I'm here to take care of you, Ms. Smackins. You've failed this city."
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"
The smoke stops and the figure steps into the room more. It's...
.
.
...
Frodo. Frodo is dressed in Scrubs with a hood on. And for some unknown reason he's holding a toy Bow and Arrow set.
"Hey. I thought you could use a laugh. Plus, I've been watching the shit out of Arrow. How do you like it?"
"You shot me, Dad. You shot me."
"I did. It was funny. Wasn't it?"
"It kind of was."
Boom. Sticky Arrow right in Tony's eye.
"I didn't say you could speak to me yet."
"Dad. Where did you get the scrubs?"
"I hit your doctor with a Shayouken, then raped him. And took his clothes."
"Is Sarah ok with that?"
"We found something for her."
All of the sudden Sarah came rushing into the room dressed like a nurse, the old timey ones with the mini skirts.
"Can you believe they had this in a closet somewhere?! And we just needed to knock out some patient and rape them to get it."
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