Hotel Cuntifornia

As I walk down the corridor with a walk like John Wayne, battered and bruised, my balls the size of grapefruits from being so busted by that shit cunt Myst. I make wide, careful steps as I take a bucket of ice with me back to my hotel room, a stinging pain with each footstep and tinnitus ringing in my skull. Despite getting the win and moving up the bracket, gotta say, my night could have gone better. Gets even worse when I see this shit cunt approaching me with a smirk.

"Hey Noah." Ned says almost trying not to laugh at my slow, pained walk. "Congrats on the win."

"Eat shit you smug slut."

Ned shakes his head walking past me with a snicker, I give a sigh as I stop and turn around at him.

"You had a good match tonight too, cunt..."

Ned looks back rolling the water bottle in his hand.

"Appreciate it... You know as someone who's been in a similar spot as you, wearing a cup is a good decision to make."

"Yeah, might do that movin' forward." I pull down on the crotch of me skinny jeans which in hindsight, not a good decision to wear. "They not uncomfortable though?"

Ned's eye twinges as he thinks it over.

"Pinch a little but better than the alternative."

"Right on." I say with a nod.

Ned nods too trying to think of something to fill the silence as we are just stood in the corridor. He tosses the bottle in the air and catches it.

"Anyway, hope you feel better soon."

"Yeah yeah, nice one, cunt. See you later."

Ned gives a short nod to me as he turns back around and walks away leaving me to my hobbling back to my door.

As I struggle to take the keycard out of my jeans due to my engorged testicles, spilling ice onto the floor as I manoeuvre to open it and hit the light switch with an elbow. I get to my bed which takes some time and place the bucket of ice on the mattress and rip the pillow out of the pillowcase and begin pouring ice inside. I crawl onto the bed with a groan trying not to cry in pain as I get comfy lowering my jeans and placing the icy cold pillowcase on top of my boxers letting out a shivered hiss. Flicking on the TV and grabbing the phone beside me I call up some well-deserved room service.

"G'day cunt can I get four beers preferably something outside of the US I don't drink that piss and some chicken nuggies? … Nice one and charge it to Vinnie Lane's room … Sick, just walk in me room; me nuts have sunk into the memory foam and I'm worried if I stand up they'll rip from me body like velcro… Later."

I throw the phone to the side which clatters off the receiver before falling off the end table and focus back onto the TV.

~ “-and the March Madness tournament kicked off with a bang for the XWF with a stacked card and some quality matches, people are on fire about the main event but let’s start at the beginning with a hijacked signal and a Chris Page appearance! -”

I dig out my phone and start to play Clash of Clans, need check my shit, cunt! I keep playing until I hear...

~ "-and a returning Noah Jackson went up against Jenny Myst in a rough match, to say the least, not the best showing from Jackson who got destroyed by an enraged Myst who took him to task with a vicious nut shot followed by a beatdown with a steel chair. Jackson won via DQ but rumour has it he won't be full form with his match against Gravy-"

I growl with a raised eyebrow at this Sayors cunt.

"I am always full form, cunt! Fuck off!"

I go to switch off the TV but hesitate, my thumb hovering above the power button.

~ "-people are excited however about a potential return of Shawn Warstein with Noah being back in play but the legend known as The Afterthought has seemingly moved away from the XWF and his son being a star in other federations so opinions are mixed to-"

I turn off the TV. A slow thumb hits the power as my hand drops with the remote and I stare at myself in the black screen. With a sigh, I look at my phone and look back through texts to dad with no reply. I lock my phone and hang my head a little, chewing on my lip.

There is a knock at the door and a man walks in carrying a tray, he looks to me with a kind smile like he hasn't seen me in years as I squint at him.

"Ah, hello my friend!"

"How ya goin', cunt... Weren't you a doctor?"

The room attendant chuckles to himself, taking a can and pouring a perfect pint.

"Turns out letting strangers take a tour was a bit of a no-no. No matter, many opportunities out there for me, many roads untravelled." He rakes a butter knife across the foam and hands me the glass which I take and sip greedily. "Enough about me, however, how are feeling?"

I sup on the sweet nectar as the room attendant takes a napkin and places it in my t-shirt as it were a bib.

"Been better, cunt, not gonna lie."

"You do look quite beat up."

"Nothing I can't handle, cunt! Best wrestler in the biz you're talkin' too right here."

"Hm. Indeed." He says with a slight eye roll as he places a pillow on my lap and takes the cover off the silver tray, placing the plate of chicken nuggies on my lap. "How are you mentally, though?"

"Mentally? Mentally I'm sick, cunt."

"Oh I agree."

He looks at me with a smirk. I go to explain my trademark slang but he lifts up a singular index finger to silence me.

"Back to your home to nil applause. Your father won't respond to you. You still have no idea who hit you with a car. Yes, Noah, you are indeed sick." He looks at me taking a beer and sitting down, I glare at him for once not knowing what to say. He cracks it open and takes a sip with a satisfied sigh. "One problem at a time I suppose, if it were me and someone wanted me dead, my, that will take all my attention... Who do you think it was, Noah? A former friend? A father figure? A scorned lover? One of your many short-lived rivals? Interesting how many enemies one can make in a lifetime."

"... This is giving me the willies, cunt."

"Just trying to help." His smile says he cares, but his one good eye tells a different story. "Send you down one of those untravelled roads."

He leans in a little, the smile stuck on his face. My phone pings and breaks the silence I look down to grab it and look back to him but just an empty chair and an open can lay where he sat. I look around the room, my heart spiking. I compose myself before looking at a text from an unknown number.

:: "Keep going, you get that crown and we'll run this place." ::

I place the phone face down looking to the window before shaking my head and chowing down on my food.

---

"Who's the sickest cunt in the world that made someone give up without a sweat and get themselves thrown out of a tourney they desperately wanted to win?"

I throw two thumbs to the handsome boy before ya.

"This sick cunt!"

"Now I'm going from one looney to another!" I shake me head before mumbling to meself. "What is this bracket? ... Round one, I shit on Myst so hard I cause another mental breakdown and now I'm going against the Queen of not being able to get shit done."

"A lousy fuck who has been here too long and constantly tries to reinvent themselves to no avail all the while fucking up every single chance of gaining any ground here. Fuck me, it's Groundhog Day! One shit cunt to another. One easy win to another. One more round til I'm crowned! Something I deserve! Something I have earned!"

"I haven't been the shit lazy cunt who comes and go as they please, nah, I am and forever will be THE hardest worker this place has ever seen! Not some bottom-of-the-barrel dregs that bubbles up to the top only to be fished out and fucked off!"

"Some shit cunt who runs around lookin' for their partner for a week for no reason. Some shit cunt who begs to be carried by Flynn for no reason. Some shit cunt who is still employed for some reason! Why do I have to belittle meself and play down to you, cunt? I should just be handed the win based on who the fuck I am and how fuckin' good I am!"

"Now, Gravy, I ain't gonna ask you to lay down and lemme win, I would never say that; apparently, I'm that sick people just tend to give up without me askin'. I want 100% from every cunt I meet, makes it all the more sweeter when they burst into tears and fuck themselves over. But I NEED to win this, not because beating you will sore me to great heights, I mean, come on." I snicker to myself. "And this isn't even about me getting that crown on me head, nah, cunt. This is much more important, I need to win because I have some fuckin' fire lined up against Thad Duke and I know what you're gonna say, you got some words for him too but cunt let's be honest here you'll just fuck it up, you'd step up to the plate only to mess it up like every important event in your life. You'll have everything in that mess of a skull ready and blurt out some kindy shit instead."

"I have a fuckin' loaded gun, cunt. Hollow points for that shit cunt with his hollow points and I need to beat you so I can send that loser into the fuckin' grave with how hard I'm gonna bury him."

"I need this, cunt. Fuck, the world needs this! An' on the off chance you do get the upset, you wouldn't just be making an enemy for life but you'd deprive the people of some top-tier roasting and even worse, we won't see Thad cry like the pissbaby he is! Tell me you don't wanna see that!? Tell me in full earnest you're fully capable of achieving that, lie to me you fucking dog and tell me that! Show me you're actually capable of doing anything other than pissing the bed!"

"Oh and to anyone who says "What about Charlie Nickles?" ... What about Charlie Nickles? If the cunt wins hell has frozen over and we're all gonna die anyway."

"Gravy, cunt, you can't win this one, love. Now, I may be having certain feelings because I was with Vita when she was swole and your whole deal is confusing me a lot so maybe I'm goin' easy on you here, but the facts are in front of us. Your recent run here spells out how this match will go down."

"TV title, ya won it and immediately fucked it."

"Uni title, ya got to it and immediately fucked it."

"Tag titles, you crawled towards em, and then you fucked it."

"You go into a match with me? The sickest cunt in the world, the greatest wrestler this place has ever seen and the hardest worker you've ever met. Guess what you're gonna do, cunt?"

"Ya gonna fuck it up."

"Two things in life are guaranteed, death and Gravy droppin' the ball."

"See you at your loss ya dog-"

OOC: Wordcounter - 2000

"Cunt."

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