"Ricky mother fucking Desmond."

"Failed businessman, after his failed campaign with Steve Davids. A failed superstar, as he faded out into obscurity- hell, maybe... 95% of the locker room didn't know who you were until you came back with Davids. Pretty much, a failed everything. I know I may not be one to talk, but I can at least rest easy knowing I'm not fading into obscurity, the way superstars have their narrator's making jabs at me."

"So now, when you made your little message about getting into the ring, we already had a little verbal scuffle. I laid off, but only because I just wanted that little extra bullet of ammunition against you. See, here's your quote."

Ricky the Moron Said:"So you're using Mastermind as an excuse? He wasn't good enough to weaken Gator enough for you to steal a win? Excuses. Oh I did not fail, Maverick. I was not here when Davids lost to Gator, I did not invest in THAT Steve Davids. I was invested in the one that was vulnerable. The one that had a briefcase. You see my name is back out there again, all because I was stood side by side when Steve Davids won the Universal Championship. I am still, and always will be, winning at business."

"Nice 'cumback' there, Desmond. Did you scrape it out of the back of your throat? Because that's what it seems like, what with that horrendous defense. Okay, listen up. When you did come back for Davids, Davids still lost to Gator. Sure, Davids might have beat Gator the very same night, but it was pretty much a handicap situation. It was obvious Harrison was hardly trying, which allowed Davis and Oppenheimer to isolate Gator and lock him in handcuffs whilst they demolished Harrison. And that still does not remedy the fact that Gator beat your boy, masterfully, I might add. I mean, that Torpedo DDT through the car onto the Waffle Iron? I have to admit, that was pretty fucking sweet."

"Now, I have to admit, nobody really knows much about you. I mean, fuck, you were away from the ring for like what, over a year? Then suddenly you find your pimp in Steve Davids, and like the lovesick puppy you are, you went down crawling on your knees to stuck his dick. And when his dick finally tires, you toss Davids to the curb like you're some drag queen. I mean, fuck, how you've managed to even become a superstar is hanging up in the air because your just so... laughable. Seriously. You, Ricky the Moron, are living proof God, whichever one you believe in, I won't judge, has a sense of humor."

"Now, I must question your origins- that being... how on Earth did you manage to become this successful businessman? If I remember correctly, you touched in your earliest promos that you were already a multi- millionaire at the crisp age of twenty- three, and yet, if I remember correctly, you never said how. Sure, you might have said you always make smart business choices multiple times before, but yet, you never said what your first choices were. Such as... what was your first thing that you happened to sell, what was the big break that spawned those millions and millions of dollars, et cetera. Now, I might have skipped over those promos, since whenever I read one of your promos, I have the sudden urge to go to sleep, but until I can specifically hear it straight from the horses mouth, you, Ricky the Moron, you penny, are feeding a gigantic load of bullshit!"

"Oh, and you may be wondering why I just called you a penny. Here it is in short: You're two-faced, worthless, and about as crusty as the leftover shit that was once found in Shane 's ass after one of his late- night sexcapades with his shit- filled condoms!"

"Now, you say you don't know who I am. That's the biggest line of bullshit I've ever heard, and I have to listen to Frodo garble out trash talk daily. I mean, fuck, didn't you address me personally in your little message that your going back to wrestling?"

(01-25-2015, 10:28 AM)Ricky the Moron Said: "Until then though, I am getting back into that ring! If Davids can't succeed FOR me, then I will just have to go and take success myself. Starting off with you Maverick. You can speak all you want about how you specialise in a Flaming Tables match, it won't matter. Sometimes, the better man simply wins because he's the better man, and that's exactly what I intend on doing."

"Aha, yep, see, I knew it. Now, how the fuck can this fucking dipshit manage to defeat me if he's making blunders right out of the gate? Tch. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I have a Royal Rumble to prepare for."

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I stared blankly at the wall, a hot, steaming cup of java placed firmly in my hand. I was trying to figure out which exercise I should do for the Rumble today. Each day I was alternating workout styles. One day, speed and agility, tasking myself with this by running through specially designed obstacle courses that would force me to think and move fast. The next, an agonizing test on my strength and endurance, lifting free weights actively. And even in my spare time, I found myself actively watching my opponents promos, trying to find something key I could call my opponents out on.

"Hmmm..." I pondered to myself, thinking out loud. "Perhaps I should--"

"HELP!"

A mysterious voice ran out through the confines of my home, an open window nearby. I looked outside- who had called for help? Suddenly, I saw the damsel in distress in question. She looked... like...



... Wait, was she even human? Preposterous! How could robotics be this far already?! Unfortunately, she had to see me.

"HEY! YOU! WEIRD HUMAN GUY!"

I banged my head on the windowsill, groaning. Oh, how this was going to be a fun, merry time.



TO BE CONTINUED