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~~Peter Fn Gilmour~~ · (04-04-2013)

Creepin’
Up in hyuhhh

Is that Neonero singing?!

Before we begin, a few words from our protagonist, Neonero.

These words brought to you by “Shut Up juice, keeping twats quiet for generations!”

Have you ever gone down on a girl, and found something wasn’t quite right? No, I’m not talking not quite right as in spending the night with a Bangkok chickboy, we leave those frivolities to the likes of John Madison. I’m talking about going down on a girl who hasn’t washed properly, and has a bit of yeast infection going on. Think cottage cheese. And a nasty smell.

That’s what Jeff Hardy reminds me of. Thrush. A nasty itch that stinks to high heaven. Fortunately, there’s...

[Image: Vagisil.jpg]

Well, wasn’t last Sunday fun. There are no longer any question marks. No more doubt. The world saw me twat Hardy around that cage like he was a child in Joseph Fritzl’s basement. So now, whatever shenanigans he pulls with paintings to make himself feel that little bit better after I made his arsehole sore, its all water off a duck’s back to me. Remember, Jeff, those six sweet letters.

GG.

NORE.

Have fun with your attempts at ‘insane guerrilla warfare’, though. Maybe you can paint me a cat next time. I can frame it and set it up on my wall, with a plaque reading ‘pussy – Jeff Hardy’.

So, our little Jiffy bag is going to referee the next match. Quite ironic him WEARING stripes instead of SNORTING them. And then my opponents. Ursula Areano and Neil Capra. I had to laugh when I realised that despite Ursula being the only one with a vagina in the match, ironically she still has more balls than Jeff Hardy. But enough with this inane chicane...

We cut, but quickly the transmission raises again, as if we’re viewing a tape that’s cut onto the end of the segment.

Wilkommen Hier in Variete Obscur

We cut to a darkened room, illuminated by nought but moonlight, which seeps into the room like some ethereal wisp. We observe the room slowly, taking its details in as our eyes gently adjust. The figure of Neonero is first apparent, standing tall, and looking over what looks like an oblong...no, it’s a rectangle. It seems to be a bed...

Oh damn.

It’s Paul Heyman’s bedroom, and he’s fast asleep.

Snoring like a freight train.

Scabby looking ECW bed sheets tucked up to his chin, and a small teddy tucked under his arm.

[Image: cute-teddy.jpg]

There’s a little tag written on his underside that reads ‘Dreamer’. Hmm, either a coincidence or his heart lies with one of his former talents.

Come to think of it, we have never really seen Paul interact positively with a woman. Look how they were objectified in ECW. Being drenched in beer and motor boating. Or playing the harlot. Or being Tammy Sytch. All in all not good representations of women, eh?

Nero walks closer to Heyman, and we notice he’s carrying a bag under his arm. In a flash he whips off Heyman’s bed sheets, treating us with the rather fetid sight of Paul Heyman in his underwear, tubbiness spilling out providing him with an extra cushion. In a flash we scan for signs of a companion in his bed, none are apparent.

Somehow the swiftness of Nero removing the cover has not roused Heyman, who is still snoring away. We try and train our eyes away from Heyman and his stained sheets, and instead observe Nero. He’s staring intently at Heyman, as if he would do something in an instant, but he simply stares.

Our hearts flutter a little in fear.

Nero talked about raping his enemies last week, this is surely not the result of those words...

No.

He begins unwrapping the bag, and starts pouring out...

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Maltesers. Hundreds of them. Nero covers Heyman with them, and still he doesn’t stir.

Then he leaves, tucking Heyman in, and taking Dreamer away. Dreamer is placed inside his bag, and we begin to muse just what Heyman’s bed is going to look like when he wakes up, covered in melted chocolate. He’ll think he’s shat himself. Nero pauses just as we contemplate this. Seemingly, he’s had the same realisation, and so he places a solitary malteser on Paul’s bedside table.

Sweet dreams, Paul E.

We fade...

Obscure
And Illin’

AND WE’RE BACK.

Beneath the bluster, beneath the antics, beneath the surface of one of the XWF’s most mysterious men, lie many secrets. But it does no good to allude to secrets, every week, without revealing a thing. And so, right here, we will reveal one secret. However, it will be done covertly. In other words, you will spot it or you wont, the author is not going to spell everything out like this is being produced for a child.

Nero’s flipping through news stories on his Kindle Fire.

[Sebastian Duke topples Mark Flynn!]
– Meh, we’re all beating Flynn

[Mystery, Soldier and Gilmour win trio titles!]
- Oh Gilmo, oh Gilmo.

[??? wins King of the XWF crown]
- Well, who saw that coming...

Yes, he's in a snarky mood.

He’s bored of reading news, so he looks up at the camera, beckoning it into the room. As the camera moves forwards, however, a female figure darts in front, peering into the lens a moment.

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We’re immediately struck with the hue of her eyes. Korean eyes are, of course, naturally brown, but this girl’s eyes shine a beautiful azure blue. We harken back to moments ago, when we were observing Neonero, who of course sports deep, haunting cyan hued eyes, the genesis of his nickname, ‘The Cyaneyed Assassin’. The girl then disappears as fast as she appeared, and Nero seems to take no notice whatsoever of her existence. Curious.

We flash back to 2012. Chaos in Korakuen Hall.

Quote: The street is a narrow one, winding downwards. At some points the roofing of the houses below is also the ceiling of the path, though walled around, usually accompanied by a washing area or floral decoration. Strange but familiar smells waft through the air, foods alien to the West hang in the air like fresh bread in a supermarket, tempting the passer-by to buy some.

He approaches one of the ‘gardens’. On the floor, there is a homeless person. We can’t see if it’s a male or female, we just see a body slumped against the wall. A small plastic cup in hand, they are not exactly in a great area for begging. It’s strange, and Neonero seems to pick up on that. He looks into the cup, it’s empty. Reaching into his left pocket, he pulls out his wallet, and stuffs some yen notes into the cup. As he does, the person looks up, and Neonero almost falls over.

She looks just like her...

Neonero’s eyes bulge, and he backs away. The girl looks at him quizzically, almost remembering something, but the moment is intangible.

Those Eyes...

Neonero can’t take the moment. He darts away, running far down the alley, out of camera shot.

Those eyes...

Just as our synapses are connecting, bouncing ideas around like solutions, the girl sits down beside Nero. She looks at him, her expression full of grace. She reaches out a hand to stroke his cheek, but Nero again seems completely oblivious. He looks up at the camera, and starts to speak, and the girl goes down on her knees, not in a sexual advance, but in an affectionate one, crawling towards Nero’s lap, and resting herself there, a content smile crossing her face.

Areano and Capra.

Nero tilts his head back, eyes fully locked on the camera, almost showing us the insides of his nostrils in his relaxation.

First of all, I have no idea who Neil Capra is. I could sit and bs with you guys but I really don't. I had to glance at his company bio and check some of his old work, and even then I couldn’t get a handle on this guy. Neil, you seem to have a few screws loose, and I am not one to make light of mental health issues. I mean, I even tagged with Gilmour twice, so you cant accuse me of that. But I have to ask...what are you doing here? What's your raison d’etre, Cappy? Nothing but masochism? There seem to be no dimensions to you. Where’s your edge?

You’re all curve.

And certainly not Bora from Sistar curvy.

[Image: tumblr_ll5gflOXk51qzec2go1_400.gif]

[Image: tumblr_ll5gflOXk51qzec2go1_400.gif]

와우, that girl...

Curvy like you’ll roll away and no one would notice.

So I reiterate, Cappy, why are you here? Why are you and your beady little coke eyes going to be stood opposite me in just a few days? If you’re purely here for the masochism, you’ll fucking love this match. Not only will I delight in ripping muscles from tendons, flesh from bone, but our compatriot in this ménage a trois is Ursula Areano...

Nero pauses, looking around the room. We notice the girl is gone, but again, he seems to have no inkling of her presence to begin with. He doesn’t miss her nor acknowledge her absence.

And that girl can throw down. Maybe I’ll just make a deal with Ursula, and we can take it in turns bouncing you from rope to rope until you’re nothing but a raw piece of fleshy mush rolling around, randomly excreting coke behind you. But of course, if you did that we’d have old Jiffy bag Hardy snorting coke from your arsehole. So we better keep that little secret under wraps, eh? And don’t try to deny it, your eyes tell the story. You have the pupils of a thousand bathroom floors.

So, Ursula. What should I say about this girl? She speaks bad English? She has big distracting titties? She’s – shock horror – a girl? A foreigner? Or should I harken back to the time I drunkenly challenged her to a match, where the stipulation was that if she lost, we’d sleep together?

Nero straightens up.

That’s right, this demure soul before you once said something so debased...

Nero feigns innocence. One of those ‘whaaaaat?’ faces.

Truth be told, I am not going to be coming out with any of those lines, because...I like Ursula. Not in a ‘I wish to do you whilst we listen to Prince’ kind of way. No, if I want that kind of company I can have my pick of women through my means...I like this girl because, well, she’s not a girl. She’s a woman. She’s probably the most honest person on this roster. She is what she is. She has a goal and she’s moving towards it. Everyone else here is just full of bluster, half the time they are duelling egos more than anything. This girl is more than an ego. She's every bit the warrior she claims to be. Is she a forlorn one? Perhaps, time will tell, as far as that goes. If she's the warrior, I must be the dragon guarding its cave full of gold.

Sniff.

Now, I’m sure she will see things differently. When you knock a woman’s honour, that’s a serious thing. And you know what? That’s just fine with me. I have no problem taking it to her just as I’ll take it to Cappy.

I’m sure some of you at home are thinking ‘yeah, I bet he will have fun feeling her up while they wrestle!’ Alas, nay. In the heat of the battle, the last thing you want to be doing is thinking about t&a...you need to keep focus. Do I sound sincere here? I do wonder.

Guys, give me something. Cappy, come at me bro. Ursula, put your cards on the table. Let’s see if we can’t all make a match out of this mire.

Oh, and Heyman? I hope you have a good launderette in your area.

Nero winks, and the scene cuts.

We fade

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Neonero in: 'the one where it looks like Heyman shat himself'
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