The shot settles on a from behind view of two men at a gun range. Both of them are wearing headphones (can't forget that safety), and drawing a bead on targets down at the far end of the range. The shooters are both armed with some sort of assault rifle, which are presently punctuating the air with the staccato of ammo fired in rapid succession. The bullets tear into the targets from afar, ripping holes in the visages of Hillary Clinton and Nancy Pelosi, respectively. The firing continues for a time, until finally, bullets spent, the man on the left removes his ear protection and sun glasses revealing none other than CEO and executive vice president of the National Rifle Association Wayne LaPierre.
The other man then also removes his protective wear and lays down his assault rifle. It's Engy, of course.
So how did it feel?
Pretty fuckin' sweet. Ya know, I've always been about bladed weaponery, always felt more personal, ya know? But man, that feeling of being able to rain death on somebody from afar, unsuspecting. That's hot shit.
Engy pats the assault rifle next to him fondly.
It's something liberals will never understand. But it's more than just feeling good! Gun ownership is a way of life. My gun is like....a part of me! A separate organ if you will. But definitely not my penis. My penis is plenty big and nothing about it's size should be inferred by my love of guns.
Hey man, I wasn't goin' there.
I know, I know! But some people unfairly judge, they make assumptions! It's...it's.....anyway the NRA needs people like you Dexter. Popular voices in the media to lend credence to our cause. We need opinion makers that the people are already familiar with, people they like and trust. And preferably people that aren't senile or dead or outrageously racist.
Well look Wayne, I think you can rest assured given the company I keep that I am definitely a pro-NRA kinda guy. I mean, Bearded War Pig alone can arm no less than three post-apocalyptic militias.
That's good, that's good. People will believe you when you say that rumors that I can only ejaculate to the sound of recorded gunfire are completely unfounded.
Engy makes a weird face.
I'm sorry....what?
I must have been thinking out loud again. Sorry. I do that sometimes.
Yeah...yeah, it's just that you seem kinda hung up on...
I am WELL hung, despite what you may have heard.
That's really not what I was...
Sorry! Sorry! You get so used to deflecting attacks from the liberal media sometimes it becomes TOO second nature, you know what I mean? Hey, I have to go drain my enormous anaconda, which will probably take at least 20 minutes because it's massive and can therefore expel a lot of urine. I hope I don't overflow the toilet again.
Sure bro, you do you. I got to cut this promo anyway.
Wayne puts his gear down and walks out of the shot. Engy watches him go.
Weird dude. But I kinda need him.
He shrugs his shoulders and gives the camera his full attention.
But enough about my oddly undefined recent meetings with major right wing political figures because HOLY SWEET SALTED BALLS I HAVE A PROMO TO RESPOND TO. You'll have to excuse my excitement Bobby, because it's been a while since I've faced somebody who wants to do their job. Check it, in my last three matches the lazy assholes couldn't even be bothered to string coherent sentences into a fixed tripod camera for a few minutes. So it looks like you went ahead and did the work of ALL those guys.
Now look, I don't wanna be the guy who runs down another guy's promo for being nonsensical and boring, and full of the most basic rhetorical errors because everybody does that and its sooooo played out. I especially hate the guys who pedantically pick apart an opponent's promo line by line, dissecting it with teeny tiny verbal tweezers like missing some half assed point is going to somehow cost them the match. It's SUUUUPER hacky and lame and let's face it, it does NOT make for fun and engaging TV at all. I mean, right now what would our good viewers at home rather see? Me talking for like 40 goddamn hours, dissecting somebody else's speech like the world worst literary criticism, or me firing an assault rifle while big titted blondes massage my shoulders? Hell, I know what I'd rather see!
Engy suddenly looks mad.
Which is precisely why I am so FUCKING PISSED OFF THAT I HAVE TO DO THAT SHIT! And by “THAT SHIT” I mean the BORING SHIT. Because by the seven hells what you make up for in QUANTITY you sure as hell don't match in QUALITY. And try as I might, as a man with a newly functioning brain I just can't let a promo that meandering, that awful, and that nonsensical stand without being challenged.
Plus, I really need to practice my debate skills because REASONS.
So I apologize to all our viewers at home. Feel free to change the channel to the Spice channel or maybe RuPaul's Drag Race is on or....whatever.
Engy pulls up a nearby chair because hooooo boy is he gonna need it.
You started with a question. I think. It's really tough to tell amidst all that stream of consciousness oral eject you were spewing. But I think somewhere amidst that verbal wandering you were asking me if I'm the kind of guy who gets shit done and sets the world on fire or only dreams of getting shit done.
Hmmmmmm.....
Engy pulls his Xtreme title into view from off screen, and also hoists up a placard that says “2017 King of the Ring” with an arrow pointing at his face.
....the fuck do you think? Look son, I set foot in this place not even 6 months ago. In that time I have been Xtreme champion, King of the Ring, been voted Superstar of the month by a jury of my peers, beaten 4 previous Universal champions, and while doing all of that I have lost ZERO singles matches. Have you been paying attention? Are you even awake?
Neeeext!
Engy points upwards and, with a **ding** a quote from Robert Main appears above his head.
DING!
Quote:Over the years I used to turn a blind eye to fear! I’ve decided to forgo that process nowadays! I’ve looked fear in his eyes and said NO MORE! Now I embrace that fear! Fear is with me where ever I go! I am the face of fear! I am the man no one want to go up against! Simply because they know I will burn them to the very ground that they stand upon! Engy, this fear I carry on my shoulders, this fear that lives inside of me! I am going to unleash it on your soul! I will burn fear into your heart. And once it is all said and done! My end will justify my means!
**Sigh** Bobby, lemme tell ya a little somethin' about fear. Fear is a part of the human condition because it keeps us safe. It keeps us out of trouble. It lets us know when we need to make a change and how urgently we need to make it. Fear is a survival tool, Bobby. People who don't experience fear are DEFECTIVE. I'm an expert on this subject not just because I've made other people feel fear but because I felt it so acutely it has altered who I am for the last 20 odd years of my life. I was tortured and terrorized so badly as a child I regressed into being a child well into my adulthood. Fear did that! That's how strong fear is! So for you to claim that you can simply take a primordial part of what makes us human and what has kept us going as a species for hundreds of thousands of years and just turn it off is one of the most asinine things I have ever heard. And ya know what, if it is true, bully for me. Because that means you'll be so unafraid of me you won't have the wherewithal to block a punch or duck and cover when I try to chew your nose off.
Fear is still very much a part of who I am. While I have grown in insight to the point that I don't need to be that man child anymore, that fiery tearing in my belly when I was a boy staring into the face of pure madness...that never leaves ya. Never. Deep down, some part of me will always be afraid. And that's true for every man. And any man who denies it is a damned fool.
Oh, and by the by, I rang Big Van Vader and clued him in that you copped his catch phrase. He ain't happy. You can expect a copyright infringement suit in the form of an angry fat man's meaty right hook any day now.
NEEEEXT!
DING
Quote:But whom have you Engy faced? Just who has been close enough to get their fingers on that belt? When have you felt like, you might not be champion any longer? When have you said to yourself quietly when no one else is around “this could be the night”? That moment hasn’t come just yet, but it will soon! You haven’t faced a who’s who of the XWF! As a matter of the fact let’s be honest with each other when I say this! You’ve faced no one at all! You have been going up against the bottom of the barrel for a while now! There has never been a tried and true real threat to your championship run until now! You have faced the weak and feeble!
Oh Jesus WEPT, this shit again?! I have been dealing with people telling me all of my accolades don't mean shit because of who I've faced since August, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you would just copy-pasta all those tired arguments that I've already OBLITERATED and have another go at them here. I haven't faced a who's, who huh? Rewind a bit. I'll give you a minute. Go on. I'll wait.
Oh, you back now? Did you catch the part I said about a minute ago about beating 4 former Universal champions to get to this point? Maybe you stroked out or something and missed it, it's cool.
But ya know what, I'll give ya solid. I'll cross 3 of those Universal champions right the fuck off. Because one of them was Trax, who lost his goddamn mind and flaked out of the promotion after I beat him, one of them was Chris Chaos who is EVERYBODY's bitch, and one of them was John Samuels who very publicly lost his smile and couldn't seem to find it again.
So I will grant you that two of those guys weren't at heir best and Chris Chaos never was. So you can have those three. But the fourth?
Fellow Motherfucker Jim Caedus.
Now, I now it ain't exactly fashionable to admit this in a fed where jerking yourself off seems to not just be the default move but the ONLY move, but Jim Caedus....? That guy makes me nervous. Like real nervous. Because the cold hard fact is that a properly motivated Jim Caedus can beat anyone at any time. No one but me has the balls to admit this. I would even go as far as saying that he is pound for fuckin' pound the best in the XWF. Fuck records, fuck who beat who on this particular night, I'm talkin' lookin' at this shit holistically, Jim Caedus is the one man on this roster EVERYBODY second guesses themselves against. Everyone. No one else will admit this, it's like a dirty secret. But you look at any man's eyes in that locker room and that thought is lurkin' back there like a parasite: I don't know if I can get it done against Jim Caedus.
Well I got it done against Jim Caedus. Could I do it again? Who the fuck knows. I don't even want to try to find out. I'm glad he's on my side. But I will go on the fuckin' record right now as saying this that anyone who managed to get a dubya on Jim Caedus is automatically granted immunity against the “who have you ever beat” argument. The guy is that fuckin' good.
So you can take that tired shit and swallow it, Bobby.
Engy leans back in his chair and exhales.
So am I losin' any of you guys out there in TV land? I know, I know, it's a whole lotta talkin'. But wait! Here's a little somethin' somethin' to take the edge off.
Engy points to the corner of the screen where this video starts to play.
'Dat ass doe. We can get through this guys. You, me, and some milf ass. We got this. Just a couple more bubbles to pop.
DING!
Quote:It becomes a hole in your heart that is the shape just like the one you have lost! You feel the need to wipe away the tears but you just can’t! Engy after I beat you within inches of your life you will feel this emptiness creep into your heart! The numbness will take hold of you! My voice will forever pound inside of you! Those salty tears will flow unchecked! As I engulf everything you thought you were! I will sit firmly in the pit of your stomach! I will become your entire world!
So, that there is the bottom line, but it was like snakin' a turd out of a hoarder's crap engorged toilet. After ticking off every generic scary heel cliché known to man and earth and doing your best at sounding like what every idiot thinks a smart guy sounds like, you eventually settled on the oh so interesting argument that I will just be devastated beyond repair if you beat me for the Xtreme championship. Like your leering visage will haunt my dreams and shit from now until the day I die.
No, no it won't. You dime store Freddy Krueger mother fucker.
You know why? Because that “still processing a soul crushing existential horror” part of my brain is already occupied by something way scarier than you, sunshine. I was raped in a rusty tub as part of a Satanic ritual. I was beaten every goddamn day for the first 12 years of my life. And you honestly think that the sight of you holding my Xtreme championship is as bad as it gets? That THAT'S what's going to “cut a hole on my heart” and whatever other faggoty melodramatic prose you vomited up for way too many minutes of my finite existence on this Earth?
Son, in the grand scheme of every possible horror that exists in this universe YOU AIN'T SHIT. And just because you talk like some acne faced teen's Dungeons and Dragons villain WILL NOT CHANGE THAT.
“A symphony of violence, played by yours truly!” “It is kill or be killed in this cruel world, and I choose to be the killer!” “Evil is the only way to survive in this world!”
Are you listening to yourself you CORNY ASS MOTHER FUCKER? You got Uwe Boll writin' this shit for you? What kind of bottom of the barrel drama classes did you take while you were AWOL and runnin' away from your own failures?
Lemme give ya a little tip Bobby. A half hour of psychotic word salad does not a good promo make. But even above and beyond the utter hydrogen bomb of trite drivel that you dropped on all of us, ya know what makes me really mad?
That you're gonna try to talk at me like I don't know what grief is.
We gotta get rid of the asses, this is serious now. Sorry kids.
Those phat asses go away. Awwwwww.
Talk to me some more about grief bitch. Do it. Open your mouth, spew some more insipid word salad.
Talk. To me. About. GRIEF!
You can show me your coffins and tell me about betrayal. You can tell me how tough you had it and maybe you'll get some soft ass motherfucker to squirt a couple tears for ya but bitch, you don't know grief like I do. You don't know the grief of never having a childhood. You don't know the grief of wasting most of your adult life trying to make up for that lost childhood, the wholesale TRAGEDY of playing the fool for almost THIRTY GODDAMN YEARS because you were scared shitless of facing the all consuming HORROR of your first 12 years of life. Because you couldn't bear the thought of your first intimate moment being literal child molestation.
TELL ME ABOUT GRIEF!!
Engy is shaking with rage now. That black ichor he's famous for splatters past his lips as he spits venom at the camera. He wipes it away with his sleeve, never once directing his gaze away from the lens.
You have a child's understanding of grief compared to what I've been through. After losing a lifetime to mental illness you dare try to define grief for me. I say this in the most sincere fashion I ever have in my life.
Fuck off and DIE, Robert Main.
Oh see, did ya like what I did there? I even used your theme.
You think you're my big bad? You think that you are what I should crawl away from in abject terror? I faced down scarier than you before I had PUBES, son. My daddy kicked me in the stomach till I puked while Big Bird was tryin' to teach me my ABC's in the background. You got better than that? You better bring it to Warfare.
Fuck you. Fuck you with every fiber of my being. Fuck you for subjecting us to your overlong, senseless diatribes. Fuck you for playing at being smarter than you really are and failing miserably at it. And I'll even throw in a buy one get one fuck you to anyone who has ever watched your tired ass padded comic book supervillain bullshit and thought it was some insightful masterpiece of oratory.
Engy looks away from the camera in disgust. A toilet flushes in the distance.
Sounds like that crazy ass cracker is finally done. Listen Bobby, I gotta schmooze this guy a bit more before I head out. But don't think for a microsecond that I am done with you. I swear to God, if you make me touch the poop by having to respond to one more wholesale verbal abortion of a promo I will add one more name to my own personal “kill on sight” list. I ain't anymore Bobby. Step your game up son, because that shit ain't gonna fly with me.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm suddenly feelin' all kinds a murdery.
Engy snatches the rifle back up and leaves his seat. He proceeds to reload when Wayne calls to him from off camera.
Hold up, hold up! I got a new toy for you to play with.
Wayne walks into the shot holding a grenade launcher. He tosses it to Engy, whose mouth twists up into a leer in response.
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man child anymore, that fiery tearing in my belly when I was a boy staring into the face of pure madness...that never leaves ya. Never. Deep down, some part of me will always be afraid. And that's true for every man. And any man who denies it is a damned fool. ![[Image: giphy.gif]](https://media.giphy.com/media/gbSk5dMWmDfqg/giphy.gif)
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