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~~Mister Mystery 17 31707 1~~ · (03-21-2013)

Well, well, well.

Look who pulled January’s filth out of the garbage, didn’t bother washing it, and is forcing me to interact with the errant putrescence filling my nostrils.

Michael James.

Long time, no real change, huh? … Still the same half-thought out dribble spewing from your uneducated mouth.

Isn’t it funny how you have three cards in your whole deck and you think just because you pull all of them out every time you drop a promo, that makes you the best?

James, you fill me with the most internally pure disgust I’ve ever felt.

I mean that sincerely. I don’t feel disgust and hatred like I do when I watch Angelus spew his nonsense about light and dark.

I don’t feel disgust and pity like I do when Cyren tries to re-capture his former glory and fails every time.

I don’t even feel disgust and boredom like I do when I watch any of those rookies that have infested my previous Monday Night Madness blip across my television monitor.

All I feel when I see your face is pure revulsion. Every moment hearing your voice, I feel the content’s of my stomach start trying to make a break for the surface.

If you think your sorry excuse for trash talk is going to get in my head, you’re tragically incorrect as usual. The only loss that I feel coming when watching your promos, is the brain cells that I lose when your mentally challenged mumblings fill my ears.

Quote:“Let’s face facts here. De Sade isn’t the man he once was and neither is Mark Flynn. Everyone knows they are just going to no show the match and end up at the back of the line with the likes of Cyren, Decker and the Crimson Dong.”

Look who’s showed up, James.

Look who’s showing you up at a game that I’m inherently better than you at.

Trash talk? I run circles around you.

Wrestling? I’ve got a 1-0 record against you that I feel establishes who’s better than who.

Intellect? You insinuate that I’m lacking intellect?

You vain, arrogant cockroach.

How dare you insult me while staring in a mirror listing your flaws.

Because if there’s anyone that’s off his game? If there’s anyone who hasn’t had a decent match in months.

It’s you, James.

You’re pulling the same crap in your trash talk you have since you started.

How big your paycheck is.

A list of your meager accomplishments running out two people that no one in this company even spares the half a calorie it would take to reminisce about their constant failures around here.

Really? You’re going to brag that you beat Jaymz Dante and Kristofer Kain? I think Peter Gilmour can stake that claim as well, you egotistical vermin.

And hey, look at that, you’re still touting about beating Cyren.

…

I’m going to say that one more time.

Michael James.

In March of 2013.

Still thinks it’s an impressive accomplishment to beat Cyren.

A feat that has been duplicated by such prestigious names as Tommy Carlos King, Chasm and let’s face it, anyone who’s taken on Cyren in the last two months that’s bothered showing up.

Sorry, you bragging about beating Cyren is so old hat, it almost makes me nostalgic.

You really are a corpse, James. A relic from a bygone era who no longer belongs in the XWF.

Isn’t that funny how the tables have turned?

Isn’t it funny how a month and a half ago, I was the old man who was past his prime?

And you…

Well… You weren’t a champion and you’re not actually going to win anything any time soon… Maybe the phrase ‘tables have turned’ doesn’t apply here.

Because, James. You’ve always been a pathetic slobbering oaf who’s too busy running his mouth to make the impact you claim is right around the corner.

If you’ll allow me to reference previous research of mine:

Mark Flynn, January 31st, Warfare:

Quote:“Michael James.”

“How far can one punk nobody fall?”

“You beat a legend twice. You proclaim yourself the future of XWF.”

“Guaranteed XWF champion."

"Now look at your pathetic devolution."

"Last Impact, the Least Valuable Player in a 3 on 2 handicap match, one of the most underwhelming performances I've seen."

"But, hey, everyone has their off night."

"Leading up to Madness, you whimpered some s(TATEMENT) about the title being beneath you and then handed it off to Neonero when the two of you teamed up to overtake me with a crooked official. And when the time came, as you held XWF gold in your hands, when Nero the thief, the man who actually tried to seize opportunity and took what he wanted, asked for his belt."

"You gave it to him."

"Like the good little lap dog you are."

Flynn finally finishes cutting through his large bite. He twirls it in his fork, admiring the juices dripping down the side...

"But hey. Maybe this is the start of the empire. Maybe you will follow Nero's lead and deliver to the XWF the new era everyone wants to talk about this week."

"Or maybe you'll be silent until the very end and disappoint everyone involved."

"James, you make me physically ill. The only mark you've made in the XWF is the s(ALSA) stain running down this company's drawers."

"Because in another big opportunity, Michael James s(PILLS A GLASS OF WATER IN) the bed..."

Maybe you don’t remember this promo. Maybe you don’t remember the night where truth spilled from my mouth the night before every flaw inherent in your style I took advantage of.

Maybe it’s because you forgot to show up for Warfare mentally. For another title shot. Another opportunity you left slip out of fingers in your first run in the XWF.

You know, the one where you guaranteed you were going to prove you were the best in the XWF.

Let me refresh your memory on what happened January 31st, 2013.

I beat you. I beat you in three minutes. I beat you to regain XWF gold, the start of an unstoppable run to the top of the mountain of XWF’s top show.

That was my move to Warfare. On a show that spent months building up superstars, the second I came onto the scene, I was crowned its undisputed king.

How dare you not bring something new to the table against your king, James.

How dare you not kiss my feet with your filthy peasant lips, James.

How dare you bring your old tattered face into my court, raise your dull sword and rusted brown shield and pretend you have a chance of taking off my head.

Like Neonero did. Like your better half managed to do.

You couldn’t beat me because you’re still waiting and handing back your chances like the filthy mongrel you are.

Working as the Black Circle’s new stooge, James? When Duke takes me on, is he going to bring you in the ring so you can personally hand him the belt all over again?

The second you handed Neonero the European Title without a fight? You might as well turned in your testicles.

Because all of a sudden, I can’t find Michael James’ bite. I can’t see that natural ability that made people interested in him in the first place.

The man famous for bringing trash talk into the modern XWF. And I honestly can’t see where the mind games are. Where the ou-of-ring psychology comes in.

You’re saying the same garbage you said every match before you did the right thing.

And put yourself out to pasture.

Everyone is talking about what a big deal it is that Michael James is back.

When all I can see, admittedly in his shoes, is half a man. A child running around wearing a Michael James costume.

Like an idiot at a Halloween party wearing something to make a joke that got old three months ago.

“Hey, guys! Remember Michael James! He beat Cyren and Jaymz Dante! But if you’ve ever heard a Michael James promo, you’d know that because THAT’S ALL HE’S CAPABLE OF SAYING!”

…

Well… that and your impressive paycheck, bloated like a beached whale.

Although the XWF has in the past decided to pay money to put a rapist in the ring by a man who’s gimmick was ‘Mustache’ (see Hank Lane vs Rogue), give a special appearance to Rebecca Black’s music producer so he could publicly admit he was a pedophile and get punched in the face by John Black and apparently thinks it’s wise to keep re-hiring Dark Shadow under different names.

You saying that you’re the highest paid superstar in the XWF is less a statement on how impressive you are.

And more an affirmation about how illogical XWF’s accounting team is.

Seriously.

Who would’ve thought that the scientific personification of perfection would be such an outdated idiot?

I’m sorry, but are you still bringing up beating Mr. Natural as a sign of you being the Second Coming? Are you still referencing triumphing over Regan Chambers like anyone has any idea who that is?

You pathetic misguided miscreant, I’ve never heard a more sad story in my entire life.

Let me tell you what I’m going to do.

Mark.

FUCKING.

Flynn.

… God, I’ve missed profanity…

Is going to unmask you.

On Saturday Shove-It.

The successor to Impact.

A show that during my entire run as an XWF superstar I went undefeated on.

I’m going to publicly, in the center of that wrestling ring, put on a scientific demonstration.

I’m going to make it clear to every man, woman and child watching just how blatantly inferior you are. How your impressive little parlor tricks in the ring are easy to figure out and even easier to counter.

And when I dismember you, when I pop your little balloon and make it clear the only thing inside was hot air.

When I ensure that no one in that arena, in that locker room, manning that announcer’s booth, writing those checks.

Will leave Saturday Night thinking that Michael James is the Personification of Perfection?

I’m going to roll you over.

And make you tap out to a fish hook.

I’m going to knee you square in the face until your stupid sunglasses snap in half and red runs down your nose.

Then, I’m going to latch onto your neck.

Flip over you.

And there’s our punchline.

There’s the end to this little joke that is Michael James’ career.

That as impressive as Michael James was when he beat Cyren in two straight falls.

That’s how far he’s fallen.

That’s how tragically little he matters now to XWF programming.

And as horrified as people want to be.

As much as people want to convince themselves that seeing a man be physically broken before their very eyes would lead them to feel revulsion and disdain.

Among select audience members… Those that have been following what you’ve done…

Smiles… A giggle, perhaps only for a moment, then immediately dismissed.

An innocent bit of glee at how absolutely embarrassing the fall is of a man who deserves to fall.

Tragically comedic.

…

Michael James.

I’m afraid you’ve lost this game.

However, as a consolation prize, as another little meaningless accomplishment to add to your list of meaningless accomplishments.

Allow me to grant you my first uncensored utterance since becoming United States Chapion of the following phrase.

Ahem…

Get the fuck out of my ring.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode RP # 1 - Who Let a Corpse into My Wrestling Ring? (Trash Talk vs Michael James)
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