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Ruben A. Mitchell · **12-12-2014, 06:36 PM**

You should already know my name and why I'm even in this piece of shit federation. I'm not much for introductions. If you're either really fucking stupid or you weren't around when I made my entrance, I'll tell you, you dumb bitch. The name I choose to go by is Ruben A. Mitchell. None of you are worthy enough to call me by my actual name, even if it's displayed proudly on my roster page. Even if people end up beating me, they don't earn the right to call me by my actual name. You're only allowed to call me by my actual name if I like you enough to spew it out of your mouth. Not really likely, but we'll see for ourselves.

As for why I'm here? Well I'm under police supervision as they try to calm me down by forcefully putting me into bouts that normal men wouldn't dare go through. As the many, many men and women in this garbage hut of a federation have proved, they're not normal people either. We have wrestling aliens, wrestling Gods, wrestling sharks, fuck if I know what else ends up wrestling in this place.

The more I speak, the more I find myself hating the word 'wrestling'. It's just one of those words that were made solely to justify having sex with your partner when your spoiled brat of a child catches you.

And the more I speak, the more I realize I need music to accompany this recording since you drooling shitheads won't be able to read anything without having something playing in the background. No worries, I know what it's like having assholes nag at you nonstop. We were all kids at one point.

Now what would be a good song to set the mood?

...No...

...No...

...Fuck no...

...You know what, this will do for now.

Perfect.

Now, as for why I'm here, I've been signed up to fight people in the hopes that I'll be calm enough to keep in a holding cell. Kind of stupid of them, especially since fighting tends to make people more aggressive instead of calming them down. Here's the kicker, though: I'm not allowed to fight in regular bouts. I have to fight in whatever my opponent suggests, no excuses. If for whatever reason I decline any sort of stipulation, an officer appointed to keep watch of my antics, Quinn Bixby, will opt me in on his behalf. So if you want to beat me up in whatever crazy match idea you have stored in your tiny little head, go ahead and throw it out there, because I won't be able to say no.

How did I end up with a dumbass of a uniformed officer?

I am not a dumbass! Take that back!

Yeah, thanks for proving my point.

What point? I was the only one to volunteer to keep watch of you while you wrestle!

That point. No one in their right mind wanted to pull me back when things got too violent except for you. Why did you even offer your dignity to watch me, anyways?

I wanted to please my dad! I took up this job as a police officer in order to follow in his footsteps, and I thought that keeping you at bay would prove to my dad that I would be a great cop if he ever retired!

So you thought that, in order to follow in your father's footsteps, you'd try to hold back one of the most dangerous child assault criminals in the United States? I take it you've done even stupider things before?

Actually-

You know what, don't speak. you're dragging this thing out longer than it needs to be. Get the fuck out of the narrator's chair before I swell up more than just your stomach.

Fine. But don't whine when I won't help you pick up the victory against Mastermind!

Ah, yes, ternchcoat. I completely forgot about him because he's a boring piece of shit that doesn't have the balls necessary to get the first word in. This is the guy that challenged me to a parking lot brawl, huh? Well, it will certainly be the most entertaining fight that the spectators will see. What isn't fun about watching two people fight in a parking lot with the risk of getting slammed through some poor asshole's car? According to everyone else in the locker room, fighting against trenchcoat inside one of those matches. Don't fret, men in the back, I'll hit him until it's fun again. As a bonus, I'll fight him for so long, you'll achieve a climax after watching the blood flow from his face for ten straight minutes.

What? I'm the only one that does that?

Really? I'm the only sadomasochist in this federation that can achieve full sexual pleasure after beating people's faces in? I thought for sure that kind of behavior was accepted in this federation. Ah whatever, if I'm the first of those kinds of people, I might as well take some sort of pride in it.

{The sound of Ruben punching himself in the head can be heard.}

Damn, nothing better than the feeling of pain to get your rocks off.

Oh don't call me weird, you've seen how bizarre some of these people truly are. Compared to them, I'm fucking normal.

You...ugh...wrestled...in high school, huh? I don't see how that's supposed to help you fight against a man that loves to beat the shit out of other people to achieve pleasure. What are you going to do? Are you going to rub your dick against my chest while wearing some stupidly colored unitard? Sorry, but all that will get you is a fist to the face and a car to your balls. You're more than welcome to try though. Go ahead, I dare you. You'll never be able to anyways.

I also see that you own a mansion in New Zealand. And to my knowledge, it's made out of the cheapest of weeds and twigs or whatever cheap ass material is found by those stupid tribesmen over there. I'm surprised you weren't offered as a sacrifice to their Gods long before you fought people for a living. I take it your daddy was a slave owner? If not, I don't see how you can afford such a house off of fighting alone. Break out the whip, trenchcoat, because you'll need to take your aggression out on something after I crush your seeds with Bixby's patrol car.

You're doing what with my car?

Nothing important.

No, you said something, and I'm not leaving until I find out what.

...Promo's over everyone. You can thank Quinn for ruining it.

Wha-?

Goodnight everyone.

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