Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

B.O.B. D · (02-11-2021)

Chris Page exposed me. I'm not proud to admit it, but the bastard could see right through me. He's spent more money on spilled liquor than I've made in my entire career. I don't know what's worse, the amount of money he's wasted on alcohol he never got to drink, or the fact my poor ass burned $50,000 in the middle of an XWF ring? Well, considering he's so rich and famous, while I'M merely a big d-va who wasn't smart enough to save his money, I guess the question answers itself. That being said, I'm NOT the Universal Champion(yet, at least) nor do I get paid the salary a World Champion deserves. What ever will I do? I can't just live off of my wife's paychecks, and I suck too much to make an honest living with the biggest professional wrestling company in the world. No, if I was ever gonna be able to support my family the way a man SHOULD, I was going to have to get....................... a part-time job.

[Image: D3QlhwD.jpg]

"Would you like fries with that?"

There I stood, looking more ridiculous than I did wearing tights, waiting for this bitch blabbing away on her phone to answer my question. I wanted to interrupt her VERY important conversation about which pair of heels she looked better in(no, it wasn't Lacklan......... like she'd ever step foot inside a Har-D's!); but my manager, Brett(who was almost half my age), insisted customers be given all the time they need. Which was great considering the line of thirty people waiting "patiently" behind her.

"Hold on, the burger guy asked me something," she snooted to the other end before turning her attention to me. "What was that?"

"Would you like fries with that?" I repeated, putting on the fake smile typically associated with anyone working fast food.

"Are you crazy?!?" she yelled loud enough for the people in the building next door to hear. "My kid is allergic to potatoes!!!!"

I gritted my teeth and struggled to be polite, despite the fact my patience was already wearing thin. "Just following protocol, ma'am," I stated, erasing the fries from her order. "Will that be all?"

The woman had already gone back to her phone call, but managed to hear enough of me to answer. "What? Yes, that's it...................no, not you! I was talking to the college drop out!" she very rudely informed her friend.

"I never went to college," I muttered, ringing up her total.

"What was that?" she asked, pulling the phone away from her ear and covering up the receiver.

"That'll be $18.65," I said, pretending I didn't just back talk her.

"18.65?" she echoed in shock. "That's not what your menu says!"

I looked up at the board, adding her meal totals together in my head and figuring out what the problem was. "Those are the prices before taxes," I informed her as I turned back around.

"Taxes?!?" she, once again, repeated as if she were some sort of parrot. "I pay enough of those at work!!!!!"

"I hear ya," I sympathized, thinking about all the money Uncle Sam's taken from me over the years. "But I don't make the rules, ma'am, that's on the state of Iowa, and right now they want everyone to pay 6% on all purchases."

The woman looked as though I'd just fed her child a baked potato. "This is completely unprofessional!" she screamed, steam shooting from her ears. "I will NOT give money to a restaurant that lies about it's prices!" She shoved the money she originally pulled out of her purse back into it. "I'll be taking my business elsewhere!"

"No, please, come back," I said in the most monotone voice I could manage. "However will we stay afloat without your twenty bucks?"

By that point, the lady was already out the door, quite the feat for someone who knew nothing about the basic concept of sales tax. I seriously wondered how someone like that could function in society? Drive a car, use the bathroom, work a job, it all seemed so complicated for a woman as................... unique as her. Unfortunately for me, though, I was about to find out there was actually ALOT more people out there just like her than I ever could've imagined.

The next customer was a young African American gentlemen who already had his cash in hand as he approached the counter. "I need a 7 piece chicken tender meal," he ordered, staring directly at the chicken part of the menu. "And a large grape drank."

As I'd done with the lady before him, I looked up at the board in an attempt to figure out where the hell he'd seen either of those options, before turning back to deliver the bad news. "We don't have grape soda," I told him, receiving a disappointed tsk in response. "And our chicken tenders only come in orders of 3, 5, 10, or 20."

"Maaaaaaaaaaan," the guy complained, rocking back and forth as if he was on drugs. "How hard is it to give someone 7 pieces of chicken???"

"Damn near impossible with the way the POS system's set up," I explained, trying my best to stay professional.

This wasn't good enough, however, as he continued to insist I do things HIS way, as if this was a Burger King. "You can't just put it in as a 5 piece and charge me a few bucks more for the extra 2?!?!?"

"I'm afraid not."

The man flailed his arms around, clenching the $20 bill in his hands SO tight, I thought it was gonna rip in half. "Damn that's whack!!!!!"

"It is," I pretended to agree, nodding my head to sell it more. "But, like I told the lady before you, I don't make the rules, I'm just here to take your order."

I expected the man to walk out but, surprisingly, he gave in and placed an order I could actually put into the computer. "I'll take a 5 piece meal with an orange soda, den," he requested, acting as though I was breaking his balls. "Hopefully I don't starve."

I stared at the man who, based on his body size, was definitely NOT going to starve, before eventually making a suggestion to satisfy his immense hunger. "If you'd like, I can make that meal a large."

"Fo' free????" he sprang to life as if he'd just won the lottery.

I looked around, wondering where the hell he got THAT idea from. "Did I say that?"

"Whatever, man," he puffed, placing his money on the counter as opposed to my hand.

"Soooooooo, you DO want the large?" I asked, waiting for the guy to go nuclear, which he basically did.

"YES!!!!" he snapped. "I said 'whatever,' God damn!"

"My bad," I politely replied, feeling my manager's eyes burning a hole through me from the kitchen. "I didn't know 'whatever' meant 'yes.'"

I handed the man his change and receipt, which he rudely snatched from my hand. "Yeah, well, you obviously don't know much if you're working here!"

"Oh?" I responded, trying my best to remember Brett was watching me. "And what do you do for a living?"

"I'm unemployed," he answered, making his way towards a table to wait for his food. "Not that it's any of YOUR business!"

"I see." The irony of a man with no job questioning my own was a bit absurd, but it wasn't the first time I'd dealt with that sort of ignorance and, unfortunately, it wouldn't be the last.

"Order up!" one of the cooks shouted, dropping a couple wrapped burgers down the shute. I went over and grabbed them, before placing them onto a tray along with two things of fries.

"Order 69!" I called out, receiving a few giggles from some of the less mature patrons. "Order sixty-NINE!!!!!"

After standing there for a good minute, repeating the order number multiple times, eventually a middle aged woman who looked like a stereotypical 'Karen'(not Hunt, though) trotted on up to the counter and took the tray from my hands. Rather than take it over to her table, she set the tray down on the counter and unwrapped one of the burgers as everyone in line rolled their eyes impatiently. Before I could say anything, she took the top bun off the sandwhich and damn near had a heart attack.

"Are you SERIOUS?!?" she shouted, causing the man at her table to sink in his chair and cover his face with his coat.

"Is there a problem?" I kindly asked, hoping it would rub off on her. It didn't.

Her arm shot up towards my face, damn near shoving the burger into it like a pie. "I asked for extra onions! Does this look like extra onions to you?!?!?"

I counted the number of onions on it and, not only did it have the proper amount, it actually had a bit MORE than we were supposed to add when a customer requests extra. Nevertheless, my patience was wearing about as thin as the 29 other customers waiting in line and I wasn't gonna deal with people's stupidity any longer.

"I'm SOOOOOOOO sorry," I apologized sarcastically, before turning around to the table of condiments behind me and grabbing a handful of onions. "Let me fix it for you.........." I turned back towards the woman and slapped the unGodly amount onto her burger, completely covering it, all the while smiling the entire time.

At this point, she could barely contain herself as her jaw dropped open and eyes bulged from her head. "Manager!!!!" she shrieked as her date quickly got up from their table and bolted out the door as fast as he could. "MANAGERRRRRRRR!!!!!!" She reminded me of a professional Magic: the Gathering player calling the judge over because their opponent made a minor error any casual player would've swept under the rug.

Her shrills drew Brett out from the back. "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?" he asked, sounding like every other manager who bends over backwards for the customer.

"My problem?!??!" she screeched. "My problem is your employee's attitude! LOOK AT THIS!!!!!"

She held out the mountain of onions, hiding a lone burger patty somewhere beneath it, causing Brett to sigh. "Daniel, this is unacceptable!" Daniel? Who the hell did this guy think he was, my wife?................... or Ned?

"She wanted extra onions!" I defended, fed up with everyone's bullshit attitudes. "It already HAD extra onions, so I figured I'd save her the trouble of coming back up here to bitch ten more times and pile it on so SHE could decide how much was enough!"

"Bitch?!?" she hollered, her face turning bright red. "BITCH?!??!?!?!!"

I went to speak, but Brett stopped my right before the words could come out. "You've said enough, Dan," he stated before turning to the sorry excuse for a lady. "Ma'am, I am terribly sorry for this. Your meal will be comped, as well as your next one."

"Are you serious?!?!?" I heard the black man who ordered chicken tenders shout from his table. "This is some straight up racism!!!!"

This place felt like a war zone, even moreso than a wrestling ring! The beeping of the friers were like bullets whizzing past my head, while the shouts of the customers were the battle cries of my enemies trying to take me down. And the worst part was, the minute I tried to defend myself, it was considered a war crime, unlike the squared circle. You could kill someone inside of an XWF ring and be rewarded with the Medal of Honor as if you were some kind of hero, while here you're treated like a prisoner of war. God bless the people who do this job every day and put up with the literal crap spewing from the anal cavities that it the customers' mouths.

Apparently Brett had been in the middle of scolding me, but I was too busy wondering why the hell I took this job to listen. "Let me stop you right there, Brett," I interrupted with a hand up. "Contrary to popular belief, I DON'T need this job! I don't need people's attitudes, and I certainly don't need to put up with a bunch of douchebags who don't respect me............... so guess what? I QUIT!!!!!!"

Brett looked like he was gonna shit himself as I turned him around, lifted him up onto my shoulders, and slammed him down on the concrete floor with my finishing maneuver as a bunch of horrified customers fled the restaurant. I then got to my feet and straightened my uniform, before reaching into my wallet and pulling out about $1,000 in hundreds, which I dropped on his unconscious body.

"Something tells me you need this more than I do!" I declared before hopping the counter like a Cruiserweight and strutting over to the door where I made my exit. As I did so, I heard a lone customer make one final comment before vowing never to go into a Hardees(yeah, after that shit, they lost the honor of a D pun) again.

"Was that Big D??????"

"Did Chris Page choose a wrestling match for Warfare, or a dick slinging contest? 'Cause I KNOW the man who lost to a fuckin' Foot DDT isn't criticizing ME for getting thrown off a boat by the very same man he lost to. Maybe it's just me, but I would MUCH rather get outsmarted by Thunder Knuckles than overpowered by a move I used to take on a daily basis in elementary school gym class! But here I am, repeating the same old shit about Chris that everyone ELSE does, as if HE hasn't been doing the same thing himself. But I'm sure it's different, right? TK wasn't anywhere NEAR the man he is when he beat YOU, right? Well, what does that say about me? You think I'M the same man I was when he pulled one over on ME?!? How 'bout when I lost to Robert? If TK gets a pass, then surely I do as well, riiiiiiiiiiight? In case you've forgotten or, more likely, never cared to check, I was only a few months removed from an EIGHT YEAR HIATUS when I faced Main. I wasn't even the one who EARNED the Title shot, that was all Vinnie and Sarah. Does that sound a bit pathetic? Absolutely, but so does pointing out one's flaws without being able to accept your own. Did I seem lost, maybe even a little out of place in my first Universal Title match? Of course I did, I WAS lost and out of place! You said it yourself, Chris, Big D isn't a Main Eventer, so why the hell would I LOOK LIKE one?!? All things considered, the fact I was able to walk away in one piece without being the one to get pinned was an accomplishment in itself. Now, I know you call that an excuse, but I call it the TRUTH!!!!! People like you don't like the truth, they'd rather turn it around in a way that makes others look weak. Did I lose the match? Sure, I'm not gonna deny that. But if all you're gonna look at in an opponent is their win/loss record, then you clearly don't know how to scout someone. Then again, if you did, you'd know that making this a wrestling match was the biggest mistake of your life."

"For someone who needed my help at one point, you sure are quick to tear me down for shit that happened before you requested my assistance. Which is odd, because you claim all these people love and respect you, including Shawn, who we all know doesn't respect ANYBODY; so, if that's the case, why didn't you ask any of THEM? If you were trying to win a war, why did you recruit someone you viewed moreso as a nurse than a soldier? My guess is that Ned and I were the only choices you and Robert had. And why wouldn't we be? You once tried to destroy the XWF and cost the entire roster their jobs, and Main essentially shit on everything he did with Apex by teaming with you. The two of you were lucky Ned has a good heart and that I'll do just about anything for a moment in the spotlight, otherwise Shane and company would've torn you to shreds! Which, in reality, is rather sad, isn't it? The great Chris Page needed Big freakin' D because he couldn't handle the likes of Peter Gilmour or a man who plays with shit for a living. You think I'M an embarrassment, Chris? What does THAT say about YOU?!?! Make all the excuses you want for why you recruited me, but at the end of the day you did it nonetheless. As for you and Robert phasing me out, well, I'm not gonna complain. I accomplished alot more withOUT y'all then I did with you! And you'd be doing the XWF, as well as yourself, a disservice to claim the TV and Xtreme Titles AREN'T an accomplishment............. then again, why would I expect someone who sold their soul to the devil to do that?"

"Speaking of BOB, I love how you claim you don't need anybody to be a success, right after joining the biggest Stable in wrestling. You a Trump supporter, Chris? 'Cause your hypocrisy is showing! While I can admit you didn't need any help to WIN the belt(aside from a million opportunities), you certainly were quick to ensure that you KEEP it............. by any means necessary. Or are you gonna claim you joined BOB to help your career? Odd logic considering you've had SUCH a successful one and made SOOOOOOOO much money................. yeah, that's what I thought. Maybe instead of being PROUD of all the money you've wasted on spilled liquor, you should go to an AA meeting, because it sounds to me like you have a SERIOUS problem! Coming from a guy who burned $50,000 like it was nothing, that should tell you something."

"Chris, I know you're one of the big boys, I'm not gonna deny it.............. but coming from me, that isn't a compliment! Let me tell you a little story about a man named Green Warrior. Back in my WWF days, he was one of the big boys, too; at least by THEIR standards. I watched as he hogged Main Event after Main Event, all the while holding up and comers like myself back. He never saw it that way, to him he was the best and deserved to be the focal point of the company, even after his days at the top were well behind him."

"My point is, what one person views as bitching, another sees as stating the truth. Do you know WHY I refer to facts as the Cold, BIG D Truth? Because people like you are blinded by their ego SO MUCH they can't see more than two feet in front of them. You don't WANT to see things as they are, but rather make up your own reality in order to keep your feelings from being hurt. What have I done to warrant a Universal Title shot, what did YOU ever do? Sure you Main Evented Pay-per-view after Pay-per-view, but you were also CONSTANTLY coming up short! Corey may be an asshole, but he's right in being pissed about having to go to the back of the line. Chris Page never had to go to the back, no matter how much of a loser he proved to be. Yet a former Champion who, at the very least, deserved a rematch? Nope, fuck him! And while Corey should be thankful to even BE in said line, it only goes to show how much of a fraud you've been. The fact that you're now Champion doesn't make that any less true, you're just blinded by the gold that's in front of your face."

"I have no intention to complain about the shots I never got, any longer. My time is here, my time is now. If I didn't think I could do it, if I didn't believe I hadn't earned the right to stand across the ring from you, I wouldn't have risked it all by making it my final shot at the top. The hungriest animal is always the first to the food, Chris, and I've been starving my ENTIRE life............... it's about time I finally get a good meal. Come Wednesday, I'm gonna feast on your rotting carcass and FINALLY be full for the first time since joining this wacky business............... and that ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth!!!!!!"

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Who's Hungry? I AM!!!!!
Author	Message