As I sit in my mansion, lounged upon a lavish couch worth more than the home you live in. I cum to you, dear viewer as just myself. No loud, cock-rocking persona or any boyish-whimsical charm that I naturally exude. I sigh, a soulful sigh so soft it could lull you to sleep and look at you with eyes you could get lost in, damn, why are you so sad Dick? You ask, obviously. I blink slowly as a single tear rolls down my graceful features.
"My sweet, sexy fans and other wrestling enjoyers. I bring grave news, as you can tell I am not wearing one of my signature kimono instead this depressing yet very comfortable sleeping gown, nor is my tough guy stubble tamed, I am ashamed to be seen in such a state. Like a sad, single father. Last Savage, I was cheated, I should have won and you all know that, it was as clear as day! Yet dark clouds covered the sun that evening and Michael Graves stole the victory. I had such supple plans my dudes! I was gonna make a fun stip every week unlike what you're gonna get! I would have fought for you guys even with that same bitch ass injury Graves has! And I would have been more entertaining than the loser who will secure the TV Title. Alas, everything was ruined."
"Where do I go from here?"
"I was ready, for the first time ever to give everything to this wrestling business but it wasn't meant to be. Sure, I'm the star of Madness and with The Bing Bong Twinz which have lovingly said it's totally cool to change their name to Ding Dong Twipletz to support me in this troubling time but who watches Madness anyway!? And it's barely a wrestling show, they had knights last time! So I'm their as me, Dick Powers the super hot entertainer."
"How can I proceed?"
"Yes, management realize I was wronged and have tried to make it up for it by putting me in the main event for the Universal Title WAAAAAY above Michael Graves which is a lovely gesture but what will happen? I will be cheated again! And again! Mark Flynn will continue to steal ideas from motivational speakers while acting like a sloppy cunt and I will be laughed off, once more."
"It's too much to take. And although I would do everything to be the hero you guys need, to you! The people at home watching this, to the die hard fans in the audience who come to see me every week even though I am very clearly part-time and not a real wrestler! I would do everything to make you all happy..."
"But..."
"I hate to admit this..."
I hold back tears and clear the lump from my throat.
"... I-I've... I've lost my smile."
"And there's not much left for me to do here but... Pack my bags and fly away..."
"I love you all, dearly."
I hang my head as the music begins to swell up and I take my leave to a tasteful fade transition as I serenade you from a pre-recorded location.
As I make love to your ear-pussies with my sultry tones we cut to and fro from the relaxed music video to myself in the present being sad and stuff to make you feel bad for me. As I walk through the park, kicking the stones at my feet I see couples wrapped up warm, which is weird for LA but hey whatever, sipping hot cocoa. I look longingly at them, my brain tells me to ask for a cheeky threesome but my heart isn't in it and I walk by them choking on my words.
I then stand in an empty arena, in the middle of a ring I look around at the seats of ghosts and sigh deeply. I stomp the mat a few times and the reverb shakes my bones. My brain freezes as an image of that dirty cheater Graves flashes in my mind and his tiny dick erection popping out, as if it where stabbing me. I shake my head to force the image out of my head. A referee looks to me confused.
"Dick, get the hell out of the ring we've got a match on!"
I snap my head around at the two nobodies at either side of me, noticing them for the first time.
"Oh my bad... You're having a match in an empty arena?"
"Of course it's empty! You're on Anarchy!"
I stop myself from vomiting before quickly leaving the ring and running up the ramp flinging my arms as I ugly cry.
As the song continues giving you multiple orgasms we then cut to myself at a lake. The moon is high reflecting in the water and ripples as I skip stones of the surface; a cummy fog rolls in and swallows my ankles, I shiver as a the air grows dead. Dead like smile! A tear jizzes out my eyeball and I wipe it with my the sleeve of my sweater. I sniffle, continuing to throw stones that bounce out of sight as the sound echoes throughout the empty woods. I do this until I hear a thud and the music ends. I stand their confused for a moment as the sound of water being split by the trudging of a large man begins to come closer and closer. The pebble in my hands slips from my hand and lands in the dirt as the figure comes to meet me and towers over me; water spluttering from it's hockey mask as it breathes heavily looking down at me. The grasp on his machete tightening; I look at him up and down.
"Hey bro, usually I'd be super into this but I'm pretty sad right now and doing a thing so can we rain check this?"
Without a word the man... The man? It's Jason Voorhes! Like who am I kidding by not just admitting who it is, it is clearly Jason! Anyway the fucker takes a swing at me with the blade which I manage to dodge and the edge takes it's victim in a few strands of my immaculate hair. I gasp quickly realizing that Jason isn't only here to fix my dead ends and turn tail and run into the treeline.
Making my way through dense bush and thick trunks, this is starting to feel like my usual Friday! Add in the feeling of impending doom and knifeplay it turns exactly into my Friday nights! Somehow I doubt Jason knows the importance of aftercare though. I jump over an exposed root and make a quick right into denser foilage, bursting though leaves and shit until I make it to a clearing, the moonlight piercing through the clouds as I catch my breath quickly looking around.
ki ki ki
ma ma ma
Well that's fucking ominous. Leaves rustle as my heels turn on the spot, my head swivels around at the surrounding area like a drunk guy operating a clunky camera from the 80s. Thanks to an accompanying violin screech I hear when Jason raises his machete directly behind me! I do a sweet combat roll out of the way and face off with Jason. As my heart pounds out of my chest, my fight or flight response is sounding off like a klaxon between my ear drums. I instinctively curl my fists as Jason cocks his head staring at me.
Am I seriously gonna throw hands with a supernatural serial killer.
My brain says I'm a dumb bitch. But my heart... My heart wants me to fight! Oh my god am I having a character arc!? Without thinking I make quick steps towards Jason and an image flashes into my skull.
The best part of Jason Takes Manhattan! Oh also I see Michael Graves cunt face briefly which goes to Mark Flynn's smug dumb ass. I throw a heavy right at Jason fucking Voorhes.
"That's for Julius mother fucker!"
Jason's head snaps back and he does that slow, creepy head turn back to me which kinda fucks my confidence up as I shakily drop my fists as Jason raises the machete once again. I shut my eyes as the blade gleams in the moonlight.
Welp. Won't be the first time I died.
BANG
Odd. I expected a knife to make more of a stabbing sound.
"HEY!"
An deep voice calls from behind me as I open my eyes too see Jason on the ground, a smoking hole coming from his chest. I spin my body around to a burly man with an impressive moustache wielding a rifle, he waves me over in a hurry.
"That won't put him down for long! Come with me, quick!"
I look down at Jason and back to the stranger before rushing towards and we run into the dark. Now, I'm running with this guy but just trust me on what happens next okay? We push in towards Jason who lays still on the ground before jolting up and stares blankly in the direction we ran. Steady, heavy breaths come from behind his mask as he grabs the machete again and stands as we pull out and the scene cuts quickly to my sexy, should have been a director ass, and this handsome stranger. He closes the door to a nearby cabin and pushes down a steel bar over the door. He huffs as he places the rifle against the wall and peeks out the window; inside the cabin are two single beds and a table with chairs with one of those neat camping lanterns illuminating the inside of the cabin. He looks out breifly before drawing the thick curtain back. He walks past me taking a seat and wiping the sweat from his brow. I stand there awkwardly for a few seconds.
"Erm, thanks for saving me."
He looks back to me, glistening in the light... Man he is stupid hot. Like prime Tom Selleck hot. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a carton of smokes before looking back to his hands.
"Don't mention it."
He strikes a match and ignites the cigarette. He looks back at me as I try and fail to hold back a half-chub and he points to the chair across from him. I give a polite nod and take a seat.
"My name's Sexton Fuxplenty."
Whoa okay. Was not expecting that.
"That is an awesome name. Mine's Dick Powers."
He waves a hand.
"Kinda mid name not gonna lie.
Of course it's mid to someone called fuckin' Sexton Fuxplenty.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I came here to be sad and do like a music video thing."
He nods along.
"Hm. That's how Jason usually finds his kills. Lemme guess, singing a power ballad on the docks?"
"Oh no I was skipping stones in the lake."
"Oh! So you were going full melancholy? I appreciate that honestly, kinda classy."
I hold out a palm to him.
"Right? Thank you... So... Why are you out here and why is shooting Jason Voorhes the norm for you?"
"First of, Jason Whorees."
"Oh what!? The porn parody version!?"
He sighs with a nod.
"Yup. This area used to be a commune for hot, sexy singles in your area way back when. Jason joined but was so ugly and socially fucked up he couldn't get a taste of any gender. Eventually it drove him crazy and now he's what he is, out there killing those lucky or in this case unlucky enough to lose their virginities."
"Man, that could drive a man to do crazy things but becoming that?"
"That's what getting zero bitches does to ya."
I recline back in my chair shaking my head.
"Crazy. Reminds me of a guy I know actually."
"Really?"
"Mhm. You ever heard of a guy called Mark Flynn?"
"Can't say I have."
He inhales deeply on his cigarette and offers me one which I politely refuse.
"I didn't think you would have, Sexton, you see Mark is a tiny freak goblin. You being a beautiful person would never have to deal with his ilk but sadly, I do. And sir, he is a deranged and bitchless as they come."
"Is he some kind of invincible killer too?"
"Killer, maybe but in a Patrick Bateman kind of way. Invincible is a definite no. Yet, he seems to keep coming back like your Jason problem; we were free of his curse for many, many years but now he seems to have firmly planted his feet back into the soil of my workplace."
"What do you do as a job, may I ask?"
I think for a moment, looking deep into Sexton's eyes.
"... I'm a wresler, Sexton."
He gives a slow nod, almost as if he knows I've come to some kind of self-realization.
"Rad."
I nod too all stoic and shit.
ki ki ki
ma ma ma
Sexton and I stand up knocking the chairs back; Sexton grabs his rifle and peeks out the window.
"Shit, he found us... Dick, you're gonna get out of here. I'll hold him off."
Sexton goes to the door and lifts the bar, as his hands grabs the knob (lol) I call out.
"Wait!"
He stops and looks at me. I gulp down the lump in my throat as I begin to sweat.
"I've been through some shit today and I've realized a lot of stuff. I wanted to become a wrestler and went things got hard, I got lazy and just joked about shit, I could have tried more and worked harder and could have made a real name for myself instead of being this cool, buff, lovable sex symbol who half-assed wrestles some times when he feels like it. Michael Graves didn't cheat to take the TV title off of me, I didn't try hard enough to keep it. I just assumed things would fall into my lap like this Universal shot did, a shot anyone else would kill for and if I just Dick around (get it?) I'm not only fucking over myself, I'm disrespecting everyone I work with."
Sexton eyes the handle and then me.
"Dick this is cool and all but I have no idea what you're talking about."
"What I'm trying to say, Sexton, is let me handle Jason like a wrestler. A Real wrestler."
He hesitates briefly, he bites his lip and lets out a long exhale before nodding. He turns the handle and Jason stands feet away perfectly framed in the doorway; I let out a breath and shake my shoulders before exiting out into the cold air. I almost hear the applause of the crowd in the back of my head as I walk toward Jason and stare off with him.
Silence for what feels like eternity.
I clear my throat.
"Jason Whorees. I'mma cut a promo on your undead ass. Like a real wrestler! You have a lot in common with my opponent this Savage; you're both stiff, brainless fucks who have made a living stealing ideas from their betters that they saw on TV one time. It took Mark Flynn ten long years to win his Uni title, ten fucking years to grow and improve from shilling products in his promos to preaching about an optimal path, ten long, hard, relentless years to go from one boring, generic gimmick to another boring, generic gimmick, ten miserable years to acheive something so important to him for him to lose it all in one day, on one night in one, single match to the one and only Dick FUCKING Powers! The joke. The guy who talks about sex too much. The one guy no one would ever think could win. Imagine how soul crushing that will be to that two-faced, lying, back-stabbing little cunt. Honestly it's better than that piece of shit deserves. The only thing you do better than that weasely bastard is you know when to keep your mouth shut. You understand that you can be threatening by not forcing yourself to be the center of attention like a petulant toddler."
"Like we get it dude, you're here, good for you. Learn something from the champs before you and show some fucking class and showmanship before I leave you screaming on the mat begging for one more time with Dick."
"I may have lost my smile, but I promise you're gonna lose so much more."
Jason stares across from me as silence fills the air again before.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Sexton starts a slow clap and my lips curl into a smirk. A smirk! Not a smile! Jason looks between myself and Sexton before throwing down the machete and joining in on the clap. I give a nod knowing that once again I'm the best and saved Halloween.
Shut up! Don't argue with me! And for saving this great holiday, there's only one thing I can say...
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