Friday, April 17, 2015
Muddy’s Hotel Room
Boston, Massachusetts

“Mr. Waters???”

Steve Sayors and an XWF Cameraman enter Muddy’s hotel room,

“Muddy, your door was open, it’s Steve Sayors… I wanted to ask you a couple of questions!”

Steve and the camera man go around the corner main hall of the suite and peer around into the main area of the room, where they see Muddy passed out in a recliner with a Webster’s Dictionary covering his face, on the television the end of Karl Cross’s promo is playing. Next to Muddy on the floor is a nearly emptied fifth of Ol’ Gran Dad and a burning cigarette-butt in the ashtray...there's some country song playing on the clock radio next to Muddy's bed.

Steve slowly approaches…

“Mr. Waters? …Muddy?”

Steve grabs Muddy’s shoulder and moves him a bit. Muddy jumps and causes the recliner to fall backwards,

“Bawww God!!! Shit fire and turkey turds!”

“Mr. Waters! I’m sorry, your door was open so we came on inside…”

Muddy gets up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes,

“Steve Sayors? Boy yer’ bout like them there genital warts aint ya’? Fuck… can’t ah damn man get some privacy round’ these parts?”

“Muddy I must remind you that you’re under contract with XWF, that meaning you’re available for interviews whenever and wherever the XWF sees fit.”

Steve looks over at the T.V.,

An episode of 'The Murder She wrote' Said:“…you didn’t realize we weren’t actually playing chess. Your game is to show the XWF that you’re better than me.”

He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes for a moment, then lets out a loud yawn…

“Yeah that there put Muddy Waters ta’ sleep too…”

“Do you have any thoughts on Karl Cross’s promo?”

“Ta’ be one-hundred percent with yah’ Steve, Muddy Waters aint thought much of it a’tall’, not ah’ damned iota… rolled off Muddy like water ona’ ducks back…

Hell I tried stayin’ awake ta’ listen ta’ all that there dumb shit Karl was ah’ sayin’, but Muddy just ah’ couldn’t do it. He got ta’ tellin’ that there purdy’ little nursery rhyme about Mother Goose growin’ wings out her ass or some shit, remindn’ Muddy of when ol’ Granny Waters used ta’ read us bed time stories round’ the fire place. Muddy damn near got up from this here chair and made him’self’ ah’ nice warm glass of milk, but I’s already so damned sleepy I figured what the hell and went on a watchin’.

After all this here bickerin’ back and forth with Mr. Sandman, I mean Mr. Cross, I figured he’d of maybe took some of Muddy Waters advice… but I guess the dumb son ova’ bitch caint’ see fer’ lookin’. Karl aint ah’ person in this world that gives ah’ good goddamn that yah’ beat up on poor ol’ Ariel Knight, or Dylan George, or any of them other dead in the water fish that yer’ just ah' chompin' at tha' bit ta’ gloat about…YAH’ DONE TOLD US AH’ MILLION TIMES! I know this here song playin’ is older than Muddy’s clodhoppers, but it couldn’t be more true… so hows’ bout’ yah’ pick up yer’ phone and call someone who gives ah’ fuck you ol’ pisswhilly.

If yah’ thought any of that there drivel ya’ just spit all over the tube was gunna’ get you up here in Muddy’s mind, make Muddy ‘falter’ yer’ dumbass couldn’t be more wrong if you was ah’ votin’ Democrat… so it don’t bother Muddy if ya’ decide ta’ ramble inta’ the camera fer’ another twenty minutes usin’ big ol’ fancy pants words like it makes yah’ better than people cause ya’ been ah’ studyin’ yer’ thesaurus, Muddy Waters don’t give ah’ rat’s ass…

Ya’ really think that cause yer’ smarter than Muddy Waters that it’s gunna’ put yah’ over in the ring? Hows’ bout’ yah’ tell us what it’d look like then if that Albert-o Einstein feller stepped up in that there squared-circle with Mike Tyson… it’d be a sight uglier than that there homemade soap lookin’ face yah’ got Karl. All Muddy Waters has heard all damn week is how he aint gotta’ snowball’s chance in Hati of beatin’ ol’ Karl Cross, at first it aint mattered ta’ Muddy, hell maybe Muddy Waters even believed that there bullshit… I’ve done made my intentions of bein in tha’ XWF clear, kick ass and make money and if I win some matches here and there then that’d be alright too… But the more Muddy been listenin’ ta’ Karl Cross and after ah’ goin’ back and watchin’ yer’ film, I think these people round’ here done got yah’ figured fer’ somethin’ ya’ aint Karl.

Ya’ aint one ta’ figure out how ta’ top Muddy Waters yet and that’s fer’ damn sure, seein’ hows how yer’ still so hung up on this idea-er’ that Muddy Waters is pertendin’ ta’ be somethin’ that he aint. First yer’ doggin’ Muddy fer’ bein the good ol’ country boy that he is, then yer’ bashin’ Muddy fer’ ‘actin’ like he’s a country boy as if it were ah’ helpin’ Muddy’s cause ta’ pretend bein’ of a certain way of livin’ that ya’ was doggin on….

Yer’ full of these things down in tha’ south we like ta’ call cu-nun-drums…

Muddy knows damn well why too, it’s because of what I’s done called yah’ on once b’fore’, Muddy Waters got yer’ ass rattled. Just like when ya’ first cut ah’ promo on Muddy Waters, puttin’ me down cause I’s ah’ usin what ya’ called my ‘defense’ as my best ‘offense’?

Oliver Twist Said:You thought you were disarming Karl Cross by calling him on all the things he was going to tear you down about before he actually did it. Like a Eminem in 8 Mile,

your defence was to pre-guess my offence. Your goal was to render me pointless however please try to remember that I operate on a different intellectual level from you mere plebs. I can see right through the pretence and the falsehoods and cast my eye on the real you.

Then I sit here and get ta’ listenin’ to yah run them there dick-beaters ah’ little bit…and what did Karl Cross do? Well bein’ the stupid son ova’ bitch that he is, he stoled’ ah’ page out of ol’ Coach Waters’ playbook:

Mr Inte-lecture-ral Said:You'll probably watch this over once and then furiously plot your reply. What I'll get is a haphazardly thrown together promo where you'll document another chapter of the 'riveting' backstop that most people will fast forward through. It will likely be in two parts because for some reason you have something against the middle of your boring tales. Can't blame you for that, I wouldn't want to relive that dullness in full again either.

What you'll eventually move on to is short barrage of the same things we've already heard interspersed with your incoherent ramblings about nationality.

…so somewhere between ya’ chokin’ on them big words that don’t make ah’ damn bit ah’ difference ta’ Muddy, like it were Webster’s cock, ya’ proved nothin’ more than the fact that yer’ in damn good standins’ fer’ jackass of the year award. So when yous’ ah’ askin’ bout:

‘Is it ah’ really that hard ta’ pick a fault with me?!? The biggest piece of shit in XWF, Karl Cross’

…and yous’ challengin’ Muddy Waters ta’ call ya’ on somethin’ solid, well it’s just amazin’ ta’ Muddy how damn easy ya’ made it… Like yer’ dumbass was standin’ ina’ pool of quick sand sayin:

‘Find somethin’ that’ll make me sink!’

…and this is all just the beginin’ Professor Numb-Nuts,

Karl with ah' K Said:Try to realise though that this is not just a game, this is where you start to falter and lose our match This Monday.

...Wait fer' it! wait fer' it!...

THEN SHE Said:Guys like to you don't get under my skin because this is all a game to me. Don't get me wrong, I recognise that it's game for you too.

BOOM! CUN-NUN-DRUM AH' PLENTY!

So its’ ah’ bad thing ta’ be ah’ redneck…
Then its’ ah’ worth callin’ someone out fer’ pertendin’ ta’ be ah’ redneck…

Its’ ah’ dumbass move ta’ call people out on what theys’ ah’ gunna do b’fore’ they do it…
Then its’ okay ta’ do cause Karl Anal Floss done run outta’ ideas ta’ battle Muddy with…

Its’ not ah damn game…
Then its’ nothin’ but ah’ damn game…

First yer’ not ah’ flamin' homosexual…
Then yer’ ah’ sippin’ tea with the Queen…

Nothin’ about ya’ makes ah’ damn lick of sense Karl… no more sense than God give ah’ gay goose anyhow. Ya’ know whats’ so damn funny bout’ the whole thing? Is that on Monday Night yer’ gunna’ have the ass whipin' of ah' lifetime handed ta' yah' ona' damned silver platter, and there aint ah' pretty comber-nation of big words and fancy poems that'll save yah' from it Karl...

Muddy Waters aint gotta’ damn thing ta’ prove to yah’ Karl, it’s done been plainly put out by yer’self that I aint up ta’ par with them other worthless fuckers that’s’ been ah’ fed to ya’. Good ol’ country boys like Muddy Waters aint on yer’ level of savvy speakin’... so tell me just how silly yer' ass is gunna' be ah' lookin' while yer' laid out on yer' back and these size twelve boots come sailin' down from the top rope and crush yer goddamned ribs?

One last piece of advice fer' yah' Bobby Fischer, hows' about ya' stick ta' playin' chess with yer' make believe freinds... only thing more borin' then ah' playin' chess, is listenin' ta' some British jackass talk about playin' chess. So keep it on up there pal, yer' really seein' yer' potential of borin' people ta' death through.


"Oooohhh Mudddddy what in the hell are you blabbing about ya' wanker?!?"

A couple of big boned British strippers walk into Muddy's room.

"Well Steve Sayors, that there be my cue... if you's' ah' wonderin', that be why Muddy's door was left open."

"Muddy... you're aware that these women are hookers?"

Muddy pulls a little plastic baggie from his pocket of an undisclosed white substance and holds it up in Steve's face,

"Well aware Steve...matter of fact, hows' about you and this here camera man stick round' fer' ah' while and lets ride this white lightnin' out the winda'!

But this here camera has ta' go..."

Muddy tosses the camera out of the room and slams the door, the scene fades as we hear a faint conversation continuing behind the closed door,

"So both yer' last names is Cross?"

"Right'o!"