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Gator · (09-03-2014)

”lolnope”
”Those were the words my brother uttered to Peter Gilmour. Lolnope. He uttered them at the notion of Peter beating him and taking the tag titles. He was incorrect there, Peter did win, and Peter was a tag champion. I will be repeating these words to my opponent, but with a different meaning, and a different outcome. He asks if I’ve run out of ‘puff’. I’m not sure what that even means, but the answer is a simple lolnope. I’ve not run out of anything, except for desire. Yes, I’ve grown stagnant, but not in my quest to take what’s yours. No, Mastermind, I’m still rocking steady to that beat. I’ve run stagnant in my desire ever try and get you to understand just how utterly fucked you really are.

You can truly believe you’ve stopped me, and you can truly believe you’ve won this match. But here’s a fact for you. Beliefs rarely change facts. The Liberals would have you believe that Obama isn’t a monkey. This is not the case. Peter Gilmour would have you believe he is unstoppable. I have shown otherwise. You would have us believe you’re a good champion. I’ll prove otherwise. You can try and remain positive, keep looking up, you’ll need to look up when I lay you the fuck out. When you’re looking up at me from the mat, holding your dick because I’ve hit you with the Rapist, Dirty Jerker, and Goddamn Perpwalk, that’s when you can look up and see the positives. See the positive shine of the gold around my waist. See the love I get from the people when I’ve knocked you back down where you belong.

An insignificant little fuck like you thinking he’s worth a damn because he got the title from Mystica outside of a match. Let that part sink in. You didn’t actually win the belt. You couldn’t beat anyone for it, so you pinned Mystica when he was asleep or something. You’re not a real champion. You’re less than a Paper Champion. Steve Davids was a paper champion, and he had more honor and more worth than you. You’re just like that little bitch Bobby, taking the title from a sleeping Idenhaus, and thinking that makes him worthy. Or Fake Griffin taking it from Mark Flynn. Tell me, something, boy. What have those two done to prove their worth the title? Nothing. What have you done? Nothing. You, in fact, disgrace the title constantly. Every second of every minute of every hour that you hold it, you disgrace it. How could you possibly be a good champion?

You are too stupid to know the difference in earning a Contender’s shot and holding a briefcase. Hell, you’re too stupid to know what the 24/7 Briefcase is. If you got one you wouldn’t even know what to do with it. You’d just stare it and wonder what it smells like. Because that’s what the fuck happens when you give a

something like that. Goddamn. Can we get rid of you and bring Mr. Radio back? I swear to god, you’re the second coming of Radio, if he had Down’s Syndrome and was allowed to eat nothing but Lead Paint. Do you want to be that? Because that’s exactly what you are. A Downsy Radio. Do you Radio love Azrael, too? To jerk your little Radio Cock to old Az promos? Are you going to cry and get the shit kicked out of you by the NWO?
I swear to god, Shane keeps hiring more and more worthless fuck sacks to make the rest of us look better. Unfortunately he forgets to tell you where your place is. Get to the back of the bus, Rosa. You’re only here to act as the punching bag for someone better. Have you wondered why you’ve never beaten anyone with any real level of skill? Why you even lost to Gilmour? Or why you couldn’t even win the Ark title for more than a minute in that scramble? Because you’re not supposed to. You’re only here to make us all look better. And you’re not even doing that well, because we just look like horrible people for beating up the special needs crew.

You know how really hot girls will always have that one ugly friend they hang around with, just to feel better? They’re always like, ‘No, Jenny, you’re not fat and disgusting. I don’t know why he’s being such a dick. Let me go find out.’ And then she totally fucks the dude for the next 6 months. We call them the Grenade. You’re the Grenade. You’re the fat ugly girl named Jenny who has 6 cats and hasn’t been able to clean her vagina in almost a year. Now, every once in a while someone will come along and plunge into her nasty rotten vagina, maybe hit a fat roll on accident, but overall Jenny does not get laid. You may occasionally win, but overall you don’t. And most of the time when you win, your opponent is another one of the fat girls, or they just fail to really show up.

It’s ok to never be good enough, not all of us can be amazing wrestlers. Hell, I had a rocky start when I first came in, but I found my groove and now I’m going to be the next X-Champ. And I didn’t even have to pin someone when they were asleep. I noticed you keep a record of your wins and losses. Do you cry whenever you have to check another loss off? Cry because you’re starting to realize you are in fact not good enough. Nor will you ever be good enough. You will never hold the TV title, the Universal Title, The Crown, or any other title you think you deserve. Because the fact remains, that you don’t deserve it, and you never will. You would have to wait for the federation to die out and shut its doors before you’ll get those titles.

I have slept with women who are more deserving champions than you. And do you know how many women I’ve slept with? None. I’m a Virgin, and yet I’ve slept with more deserving champions. Know what that means? Can you figure it out, oh master of minds? It means quite simply, you are far from deserving of anything. I’ve had pet kittens who were more ferocious competitors. Hell, I’ve gone toe to toe with more powerful and scarier fighters than you. I took on Luca Arzegotti, Sid Feder, Dimallisher, and Mandii all at once, by myself. And what happened? I eliminated Luca, and eventually my side won. And Sid lost his leg.

Now, little boy. You think you showed me something that scared me? Some big bad monster? What the actual fuck are you smoking? Seriously, did you get into Frodo’s supply? You posted your little promo about being angry and all that shit, then I cut one the next day. This would be the second day since I cut my last promo, and you’re already claiming victory because for one fucking day I haven’t said anything? For one day. Are you that easily pleased and fooled? If I cover my face with my hands will you honestly believe I vanished? Did they actually, for real, put me into a match with a child? That’s what I’m seeing here. They put me into a match with either a child or Sean Penn in I am Sam. Goddammit. I have a massive antipathy beating the handicapped. But none the less, I will do it because it’s asked of me. We need a special guest ref for this. Someone like Hank Lane or Dean McGovern, someone used to dealing with little kids, that way they can handle your crying when I take your binky away.

I’m not good with crying babies, and I know that’s what I’m going to have to deal with tonight. Swear to god, Shane and Gio owe me something huge for this. They’re making me deal with something so utterly obnoxious and useless, they better by me a steak and a Starbucks. Maybe track down Leda for me, or something. I dunno, what I do know is that for all his big talk, Mastermind is still just a whiny little

about to get stomped. Keep talking big, but when push comes to shove, you won’t be able to back it up.”

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode PlaceMarker Really? You really think I quit?
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