Bored

---

I'm sat around in my sweet as fuck mansion and it's nice and clean and fucking empty. My agent complained about never having a day off and the gaggle of cunts that follow me around are on 'temporary leave' after I made them fight each other at an Arbys for a sweet hundo. I'm slumped in my couch, my chin pinned against my chest and my hand firmly warming my balls as I watch the horror that is daytime television. You ever been that bored that nothing seems to interest you? I've got consoles and games, Netflix and Prime but nothing is satisfying my palette. I pick up the controller only to scroll through tons of games only to put it back down and switch back over to the telly where a bunch of white women drink wine at 10am and consider that shit perfectly normal. I honestly think this is why people do drugs. Drugs! I'll call dad see if he's up to anything! I dust the crumbs off my t-shirt and readjust my boxers as I search for my phone. Fucking slim cunt! Hiding in between the fucking cushions again! Fucking mongrel... I punch in Fuzz's number and place the phone to my ear.

Ring. Ring.

Ring. Ring.

Why do I think the word ring!? I need to get that checked out, purely autistic me, must be cunt.

FUZZ: "Yo."

"Hey, dad. You doing ought today?"

FUZZ: "What, right now?"

"No, cunt wanting to plan through the week, didn't I?"

FUZZ: "Don't use that tone with me, young man." He says with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice but it makes my heart warm nonetheless. "But no, I'm busy."

"Doing what?"

FUZZ: "Noah, you know me. I'm never off, always on. I'm planning, debating with myself, getting shit together."

I cut him short.

"You're in the panic room aren't you, cunt?"

FUZZ: "Yeah, I'm in the panic room. I'm honestly surprised I have signal in here. The walls are lined with lead."

"Isn't that really bad for your health?"

FUZZ: "Well it's either I die slowly in this room or die from boredom listening to Big D try to discuss strategy with me."

"Yeah, fair, dad."

FUZZ: "We can do something next week."

"Ripper. I wanna go go-karting sometime."

FUZZ: "Sounds more like something to do with your girlfriend."

That cunt, I can actually hear him crack a smile.

"Just friends, dad!"

FUZZ: "Huh-uh and denial is a river in Egypt."

"Spare me the fatherly philosophy, cunt. Why don't you believe you own son?"

FUZZ: "First. Not biological." RIP my heart. "Second, evidence is pretty clear and third, I gotta go."

I squint, noticing dad's tone turn more serious.

"Everything okay?"

FUZZ: "There's a cockroach."

"You scared of bugs or something, cunt?"

FUZZ: "No. If there's a cockroach in the panic room that means there's a breach, Noah."

"... And?"

FUZZ: "There's a breach, Noah! The whole is compromised. Shit, gotta tape up any gaps, double-check the air filtration."

"Want any help?"

FUZZ: "And risk more foreign bodies entering? Not likely. I'll talk to you whenever."

*Click*

I let the phone silently stay on my cheek as I breathe a deep sigh. I toss the on the carpet and lay down on the couch, my eyes resting upon to these cunts talk to some rapper and trying way too hard to be relatable. Fucking cringe, cunts. Suddenly, an idea hits my nuts. Fuzz mentioned VV, she may be willing to grab a bite to eat or some shit... Maybe Netflix and chill? ... Jesus, cunt, get your head out the gutter. Ugh, can't reach my phone.

"Okay Google."

...

"O-KAY GOO-GULL!!!"

Nada.

"... OI CUNT!" My phone lights up as google assistant pops up. Fucking golden, cunts. "Call VI-TA on loudspeaker!"

Silence for a moment.

GOOGLE CUNT: "Okay, playing Living the Vida Loca."

The jazzy trumpets begin to play as I stare down at the cunt in disgust. Even Ricky Martin's sexy Latin vibes can pick me out of my slump.

"OI CUNT!!!" The music stops. "CALL VITA ON LOUDSPEAKER!"

The AI whirs for a few seconds.

GOOGLE CUNT: "Okay, calling 'Bae.'"

Shit, forgot I renamed her that. The phone barely rings before V's high pitched voice rings through the room.

VV: "HEY!"

"Sup, cunt. Listen, I'm bored as fuck at home you got any plans today?"

VV creates a long, drawn-out 'hmm'

VV: "I can't, sorry! I got this thing and it's a whole thing, then I got this other thing and blah blah blah." Okay I may have tuned out after she said 'I can't'. Damn, she still going? "But definitely next week!"

"Yeah no worries, love."

VV: "You okay? Seem down."

"Nah, just bored I guess. Not sure what to do with myself."

VV: "What about that Liam Roberts guy?"

"You mean the cunt me and dad kicked the shit out of and now I have lumped as my partner in a totally 'random' drawing? Yeah, I think I'm good."

VV: "Just a suggestion. Text me if you need to talk."

"Yeah will do, see ya mate."

VV: "Buh-bye!"

Vita smacks her lips with a kiss as she hangs up. I just look up at the ceiling. I mumble to myself.

"I need something to do, cunt."

I throw my hand to the floor and feel for my phone, getting a fingertip on it and pulling the cunt towards me. Still blocked on Twitter. Ripper... Fucking hell even MySpace is dead. Fuck joining Facebook, don't want that lizard cunt stealing my very private data. As soon as I look back at the telly, the doorbell rings. Sick, I can talk to Mormons and tell them how cooked their religion is. I get up with a groan and walk barefoot across this surprisingly soft carpet towards the door. I scratch my ass as I open the door to see Drew Archyle standing there chewing gum and carrying a cat cage.

Huh.

He stands staring at me chewing before pointing a finger at the doorbell.

DREW: "Did your doorbell say 'fuck off, cunt?'"

I look to the door frame for a second before looking back to him.

"I mean the actually doorbell doesn't say that but it sounds that off, yeah, cunt."

DREW: "Huh. Neat."

"What can I do you for, cunt? You hear to ruin another match?"

DREW: "Wait, are you wrestling?"

"No you daft cunt."

He straight up blanks me as he continues with his thought, pointing at my boxers with little donuts on em.

DREW: "Is this your new outfit? Gotta say, I like it. Very casual, throws off your opponent. Who you wrestling? Lazy Sundays? Breakfast?" "Cunt." "An alarm clock?"

"Jesus fuck, will you shut up!"

His demeanour changes slightly as he rolls his neck.

DREW: "Sorry, haven't talked to people in a while. Y'know with Main being how he is, Ned's kinda down with his injury, Cent' busy and also A TRAITOR! And I don't even know what Raven's doing. So, just got a touch of verbal diarrhea."

"Well you need a fucking Imodium, cunt."

Drew chuckles a little.

DREW: "Ha, good one."

I eye the cunt up and down, one trying to examine if he is really three midgets stacked on top of each other and in disguise or whether this cunt is just as lonely as I'm feeling right now. I sway my head from side to side as I regret the decision I'm making.

"You wanna come in or something, cunt? I'll make you a cuppa."

DREW: "Cup of what?"

"Just get in before I change my mind, cunt!"

Drew looks a little confused as I let him pass, he takes a look around the room and gives an impressed whistle. I walk past him towards the kitchen and pop the kettle on. I fucking hate those loud ass coffee maker cunts. Kettle or nothing! FIGHT ME!

DREW: "Nice digs, man."

"Nice one. Sup with the cat anyway, you on your way to the vets?"

DREW: "Oh you mean Deepthroat?" Drew raises the cage and peeks inside. "Nope, he's all yours now."

I drop the teaspoon to the floor with a clatter and slowly turn around to this fucked fuck.

"You fucking what, cunt!?"

Drew gets over to the kitchen island and places the cage on top. He gives a smile, petting the cat with a finger.

DREW: "Well he WAS Ned's but any responsible cat owner shouldn't put their precious baby on the line in a match. Both figuratively and literally. So, I decided he is yours now."

"... Cunt that whole thing was a fucking joke. When I won I was gonna launch that furry prick into the ocean! I don't want a fucking cat!"

Drew places an elbow down as he looks at me.

DREW: "There's a lot of anger in you, Noah and this little ball of love can get rid of that for you."

I stomp over to him leaning down into his face as I prod as my chest.

"I like being a spiteful cunt! That's my anger and I'm a fucking Sith, cunt! I use that to be as great as I fucking am!"

DREW: "Oh Noah." Drew chuckles to himself as he unlatches the cage door. I stare wide-eyed as he opens it up and picks up the cat. "You can say no to me all you like but I know you can't see know to this face."

I look at the cat cradled in Drew's arms. It's wide eyes staring back at me as it purrs. I get a little closer to it.

"No. You furry little cunt."

DREW: "Noah c'mon!"

"No cunt! I don't want the little bastard pissing in my bed and bringing me dead birds because it thinks I can't feed myself! I CAN FEED MYSELF! I CAN HUNT! I'M FUCKING SICK!!!"

DREW: "Just hold him."

"Eat shit you receding hairline having cunt. You pass that little prick to me it's going down the garbage disposal and it's horrible, bloody death will be on you."

DREW: "Noah..." Drew says softly as he gets a little closer to me. I recoil a little as the cat comes closer. "I'm calling your bluff."

I stand there not knowing what to do as the cat is pressed against my chest and I slowly cradle the little shit. Drew steps back glowing as I hold the cat and grimace. Looking down at it's wide eyes as it snuggles me. I look back to Drew.

"... It's going to need a better fucking name than Deepthroat."

---

"Well... Got a cat now."

I say sat on the couch once again a few beers deeper into the evening. The cat snuggled up on the opposite side of the couch asleep.

"I've renamed him Ned Kelly. One a personal hero of mine and it's also a dig at that cunt, Ned Kaye because I have his cat now and he'll die alone and sad. Eat shit, cunt. Anyway, got this bullshit to take care off. While I have a useless cunt shackled around my leg, our Rubes has a 20 ton boulder around her neck. Fuck, cunt. I know I drew a short straw here but fuck me, cunt. Peter fucking Gilmour, man hahahaha. Fucking uphill battle you got there, cunt."

"I mean, besides Barney Green and Mastermind, Peter Gilmour has to be the biggest fucking joke this company has. It's incredible with the shit cunt too, he's like a parakeet. You can just put a mirror in front of the fat cunt and he pecks himself away. I don't need to do any fucking work degrading the cunt because he buries himself harder than anyone else can because the refuses to close his fucking mouth and this his generic shtick is passable enough to keep his job here. The cunt's a fucking shit stain on an already shitty covered company! The closet case is just hilarious to watch, he's like... The Room. You ever watch that movie? Basically it was written and directed by some cunt who has no idea how to make movies, he cast himself in the starring role and is just THE fucking worst actor. So the cunt makes his movie, wastes millions on this serious drama only for it to come out in a handful of theatres that refused people refunds and the movie is a fucking joke! It's the greatest comedy of all time!"

"That's Peter Gilmour."

"Some wretched, chubby cunt who wants to be taken seriously who spends all this time and effort into convincing himself that he's a big fucking deal, an actual threat when in reality he's a fucking clown. A fucking joke. Just a shitty, horrible cunt that only one person can tolerate and honestly I think that cunt's in on the joke too."

"There's nothing else to be said about him, like I said, he pecks himself."

"So..."

I pause grabbing a mirror from beside me and placing it to my side on the floor so it reflects the camera back.

"There you go Pete, you bird brain fucktard, knock yourself out, cunt."

"Now onto Ruby."

"So I'm the reason this shit cunt dropped The Hurricane like Dustin Rhodes dropped the Seven gimmick. Because I jumped onto her John Cena Fruity Pebbles bullshit and ruined her life. Petty cunt, you Rubes. You like to say I stole that from you when if you just stopped being so absorbed in your own bullshit for one second you'd realise Vinnie Lane introduced the idea! Not me! Fuck cunt, you are the thief here. Look at you, I already listed some of the properties your little raccoon hands find in the trash and you're on your way to steal more and be more of an insufferable prick."

"And what does this depression do for you? A few remarks on Twitter before slinking back into obscurity. Fuck, I ruined your chances of facing Sarah and claiming the Anarchy title and all you have to show for it is a new, emo side of you? Where's the anger? Where's the rebellion!? No, you just go with some cookie-cutter bullshit to make yourself the victim like some lame cunt. Fuck yourself, you're fucking full of bullshit and I honestly can't wait to take every weapon from those cage walls and nail some fucking insight into your over-sized forehead."

"Eat shit you cunts."

"I'm Noah fucking Jackson!"

"I'm the hardest worker in the XWF and I'll prove it when I single-handedly defeat the both of you without any help from the hobo sleeping in my corner and pissing his pants!"

"And the funny thing is."

"With how useless Liam Roberts is."

"You're both somehow even more worthless."

FORMER:



W | L | D
226 | 11 | 81

Star of the Month (August 2019)
1/3 Star of the Month (January 2020) with Fuzz and our Subaru
RP of the Month (November 2019) with Big Disappointment