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~~Mister Mystery 17 31707 1~~ · (02-18-2013)

EAT SHIT AND DIE

I allow our scene to open with your view to my back as I stand at the window of my condo, looking down at all the people who resemble ants -- a rather appropriate comparison to my view of the current XWF roster when measured against my stature in the business.

Ants; all of them.

The thought pleases me as I slowly turn away from the window and look directly into the camera. My overly baggy, black jeans; my XXL long sleeved jersey; my pair of black leather gloves -- these items help to keep my identity a secret for now, but they pale in comparison to the blood stained hockey mask I've got on my face.

Me: "Greetings and salutations; wretched, regurgitated rodent meat of the X-Treme Wrestling Federation. How are you all doing today?"

Sure, I've asked the question but I honestly couldn't give two fucks. You could be on top of the world and elated to be watching this promo or you could be wallowing in your own self pity and piss for all I care. I walk over toward the couch and I take a seat, leaning back and extending both of my legs to rest my feet on the coffee table while I grab the remote control.

Me: "Would you all like to watch some of Sebastian Duke's recent comments with me here today? I promise -- they're really good."

What a crock of shit.

I'm lying out of my ass and you all know it. You're just as aware of my lie as I am aware of your lack in desire to watch this filth I have no choice but to respond to. I'd rather wipe my ass with this footage of his and then show you the fecal matter; more importantly than that, I'm fairly certain you'd rather see me wiping my ass and showing you my raw, steaming shit.

Me: "No really; I can assure all of you that Sebastian Duke has come up with some golden sayings this time around. I mean hot damn this man is on fire."

Not quite yet,
but soon enough.

I click on the television and it's paused right on the spot where Sebastian begins all of his impressible babblefuck toward Peter Gilmour and by transition of partnership, to me. I unpause it and we immediately are greeted with the welcoming voice we all know and love as Sebastian Duke. I sit back in the sofa and get a little more comfortable because I know I'm going to be here for a while.

I can't believe I have to do this shit. Fuck.

Quote:The time is nearing. Peter Gilmour and his mystery partner, defend the XWF Tag Team Championship against Sebastian Duke and HIS mystery partner...

Let me stop you right there - HIS mystery partner? You spoke louder when saying that word as though you need to remind us that you're even a man at all; a claim I'd like to challenge full force and ask that you produce worth while, factual evidence of such a far fetched claim. Yesterday while I was shrouded in blackness I made it clear to the world that you don't have a set and I believe everyone knew what I meant; all of us know you are not even a man. I'd go as far as to say I could punt kick you right between your toothpick-like legs and you'd be able to stand there, unphased, staring at me with that same constipated look you give all your opponents before you attempt to convince them of the impossible -- your supposed dominance and superiority. Not only do I challenge your manhood but I challenge your desire and your intelligence. Why? Simple, simpleton; you're an overgrown ginger bread cookie at 6'8" - 278 lbs. A man of your size and above your stature could be delivering some of the most devastating maneuvers in the entire wrestling business -- but you? You? Let's run down some of the moves I've seen listed online. See, son; I've spent some time clicking around on the internet and not only visiting the XWF's website but also visiting fan sites of the wrestlers. I've seen sites for almost everyone you can think of and after easily finding multiple sites for just about everyone on the roster, I eventually found a fan site for you too. It wasn't easy but I spent a few hours and finally got one.

The fan site for Sebastian Duke is run by some fat, ugly, pimply, teenage girl in the UK who has the sides of her hair shaved like a dude and goes by the online name "Sabby's Demonic Duketress" and her website lists some of your top moves.

Let's look at a few of those-

Big Boot to a running opponent.
Running Clothesline into the corner.
Stiff shot to the throat.
Running Powerslam
Snap Powerslam to running opponent
Running boot to head of foe while head hangs from apron.
Finisher: Soul Shot (Clothesline From Hell)

Ok so basically you like kicking your opponents in their heads, doing powerslam variations, and doing clotheslines. Whoops; let's not forget the big one here; "stiff shot to the throat?"

Where do I begin? You mean that even a fan of yours who is literally obsessed to the point of wanting to have your demonic babies can't think of more than a handful of moves that you've ever executed without having to repeat them in different situations? Explain to me why it matters whether your opponent is running at you or hanging off the apron in order for you to kick them in the head? Sounds to me like one of the only things you know how to do, since you just happen to be a tall, lumbering jackass, is boot people in their skulls. I'll tell you right now I don't need to be 6'8" to plant my feet deep into your cranium and make it so you're still feeling the impact days later; regardless of whether you were running, skipping, taking a nap, flying off the top rope, or stiff-shotting guys in their throats when I hit you.

Next up; when have you ever delivered a snap powerslam? Does your fan -- or you for that matter -- have any idea how fast a snap powerslam gets delivered in order to be called a snap powerslam? Your slow, clumsy, bumbling ass would be lucky to be able to deliver a slow motion powerslam without fans having to leave a take a bathroom break somewhere around the middle of its execution. Give me a break. Try hitting me with a snap powerslam Saturday and see what happens -- your spine will be cracked and your career will be over when you snap your back out of whack faster than Asmodeus unsnaps little boys' pants when he gets them alone in the compound. Piss off with your snap powerslams and multiple kicks to the head.

What else? Clotheslines.

Clotheslines.

First of all -- a clothesline in original wrestling terminology was to be executed while standing still. You, my delusional friend, are thinking lariat.

Say it with me -- lar-i-at.

I bet you don't even have any knowledge of wrestling that predates all the incorrect terminology made famous by that piss hole of a company called WWE. Well let me break it down to you since I happen to know people who were wrestling when you were still a nonexistent thought in your father's anus, you big ass piece of literal crap. A clothesline is called a clothesline because it emulated the belief of somebody running through a yard and getting caught across their throat by -- what? -- yes; a clothesline... That long string going from one side of the yard to the other that your mother would have been hanging clothes on if your family had ever learned about bathing themselves or washing their undergarments. Somebody better call Sebastian Duke and tell him to tell one of his dip shits at the compound to call JBL and let JBL know how stupid it sounds to call a lariat a clothesline. Poor Duke and his one stupid ass fan in the UK both seem to think JBL is somehow the example of what a clothesline is! Let's not even get into what in the living fuck a "clothesline from hell" would be, considering I'm picturing a red string with blood dripping off of it and Lucifer's dirty underwear hanging from it. Nice description your stupid fuck fan uses for your supposed finisher. Try that on me. Try it; see if you leave with an arm. You'll be teaming with Mr. Satellite and calling yourselves "The Complete Man" considering you each will have one arm left and Mr. Satellite actually has a set of balls. That's your free shot to poke fun at me for -- "how do I know Mr. Satellite has balls?" -- I suggest you use it because lord knows your own shit material falls flatter on its ass than you do when you try and deliver a real wrestling maneuver.

I'm not even going to spend any time talking about one of your listed moves there -- "the stiff shot to the throat" -- Hmmmmmmm; that's, that's, that's just wow. Just fucking wow. I'm not even going to ask.

Let's move on to more bullshit you said yesterday when you thought you were doing yourself a favor and getting a jump on me and my partner, you premature little jackoff.

Quote:Not something I'd typically do. Ya see, I'm normally a pretty straight forward guy. I call it like I see it. In order to play the game, you got to play by the rules. The rules are simple. Win. Or go home. This little game of cat and mouse, while I have enjoyed it, it must come to an end. At some point, partners will be revealed. At some point in the near future, this match WILL happen. In the near future, your reigning, finally defending, Tag Team Champion walks in to Shove It with gold... Then walks his fat out of shape ass to his running... barely... Ford Escort as my victory celebration begins! My crowning moment will come at your expense Pete. Like it or not...

I don't even know what I just heard to be honest; even rewinding this horse manure and replaying it leaves me wondering if you graduated 3rd grade. Anyway, you're going to fault somebody's vehicle in your "trash talk" are you? Aren't you the man who lives in a compound that was recently compromised by a guy who can't even keep a title for more than a few weeks and just lost it to a woman? Didn't Griffin MacAlister recently break right through your low-tech security and get away without even being detected? I honestly could be wrong because I don't give two shits about that loser but this is the rumor I heard from somebody who actually pays attention to the guys who don't matter. Heh; speaking of which, the same dude is the one who told me a lot about you since I hadn't heard a peep about you before I realized I was booked to hand you an instant loss on your failed attempt at the tag team straps. Keep talking about Peter's vehicle while you don't even know how to drive yourself around and your motorcade looks like a bad imitation of something out of a show where we watch a bunch of rich thugs showing off all the belongings they never worked a day in their life to earn. That's what I am reminded of when I see clips of you and your joke of a crew riding around, and I'll bet not one of those vehicles is in your name because your net worth is probably in the negative based on your performance in XWF since your arrival.

Let's see-

You started out sometime last year by challenging the US Champion and -- say it with me -- losing to him in your debut match. A guy who drinks vodka and blood; I just buried all hope you had of stopping Gilmour by himself right there with that comment. You actually lost to a

Satan worshiper; and I'm saying legit

here, not just an insult; yet you think you can stop Gilmour who is sober and who has most of his brain cells in place?

Where'd you go from there -- oh yeah that's right; a losing spree.

Let's skip that and go to something your biggest fan thought was noteworthy enough to place on your fansite, shall we? Title reigns-

1x XWF FTW UFO E1999 Champion
Won on: February 2, 2013 - Defeated: Jeff Hardy
Lost on: February 6, 2013 - Lost to: Brock Lesnar

1x XWF Xtreme Champion
Won on: January 29, 2013 - Defeated: Neptune
Lost on: January 30, 2013 - Lost to: Angelus

Talk about impressive. It took you how long to win each of those titles? Let's not concentrate on that though; we can concentrate on something much more telling of your abilities if we look at how long you held them. You managed to defeat a drugged up Jeff Hardy who has nearly killed himself in past matches due to how out of it he is when he wrestles, and you found him when he wasn't in a ring wrestling! You found him when he was probably more doped up than anyone has ever seen him wrestle as! Impressive win there and very impressive reign keeping it a grand total of what -- four days? Let's look at your X-Treme title reign when you defeated, oh shit, a guy who was on performance enhancing drugs from what my research tells me? I guess you are supposed to get a lot of credit there because that should mean he was harder to beat than a standard athlete, right? Oh wait you lost it the next day -- so much for any credit for you. A fucking credit card pre-authorization charge from a hotel lasts longer than your reign as X-Treme champ did. Zero credit for the Duke Man yet again. Boo hoo.

Oh, but yeah your chances of winning the tag belts this Saturday look really good; sure buddy just keep telling yourself that. Aren't there guys in this business who win those 24/7 belts on their first day in the company because of how easy they are to win? Remind me again how long you were in the XWF before you won them, and how the fuck you've only won each of them once to date? No, wait, please don't remind me. Please, for the love of god and all that is holy -- do not remind me. I already feel bad enough for you. If I feel any worse for you I'll down a bunch of pills and probably kill myself just to spare you the misery of failing in front of the world once again. I legitimately feel guilty about having to stuff you right back down to the bottom of the trash can that you're trying to climb your way out of and -- wait -- hold up -- no, I don't feel guilty at all. Fuck that; I love taking my foot, stomping on the heads of the people in this business who are pure garbage and stuffing them tightly into the bottom corner crevice of the dumpster so they can't possibly wriggle themselves free again and make a 400th attempt at reaching bottom class. Stay down there where you belong and rot like a good little piece of dried up, withered fruit.

Moving on here; surely there's something impressive you said yesterday, right?

Quote:Let us talk about partner for a moment shall we? My partner? He's a guy you might have heard of a time or two. He's a guy, like pretty much everyone in the XWF, I have absolutely NOTHING in common with.

Oh holy mother of God does that mean he has an impressive record and has done something memorable in his XWF tenure? You basically just said that your partner is like everyone else in the fact that he's got nothing in common with the piece of half rotten fruit that I just stuffed down into the trash so that must mean he's got a set of balls and he's got something to show for himself. I hope you're right because when I find out who it is, and if he's just as pathetic as you are, I'm going to rip you three more new assholes just for this comment you made about him. This guy better bring more to the table than you do on a regular basis or I'm going to sleep through this match and won't even be woken up by the announcer declaring Peter and myself the victors; that's how deep of a sleep I'll be in thanks to how little stimulation you'll both provide and how absent of challenge your team will be.

Quote:You might ask yourself why I would choose a guy I have literally nothing in common with. You might ask yourself who in their right mind would possibly want to team up with the Angel of fuckin' Darkness.

You're actually right there -- I've asked myself who the fuck is stupid enough to team with you and I did it before I even heard these comments from you. As usual though you aren't fully right because you also stated that I might ask myself why you'd choose a guy you have nothing in common with. Uhm, let's see -- because you want to win? That's why you'd choose somebody nothing like you, because you have no other choice. What; you're going to go choose John Black or Crimson Dong? Maybe that shitbag Cyren? They're about on your level but it'd be the biggest mistake of your sham career if you chose somebody on your own level so I'm certain you reached out to someone a little better than them and yourself. Just a little better, yet your opponents are about 50 times better than you so you're still fucked in every hole on your body.

Quote:It's a common enemies kind of thing Pete. I don't neccesarily consider you an enemy but you do possess something I want. That's the tag team titles.

Oh shut up. Next?

Quote:I've never had a personal problem with you in the least Pete. In fact until last Warfare, we've only crossed paths one time.

What the fuck is this? Next are you going to tell him you wouldn't mind snuggling up to him and giving him a rim job if you guys can keep this all business and not make it personal? I'm detecting some seriously homosexual vibes here and I don't think I'm mistaken.

Quote:I'm not going to reveal his name just yet. No, Pete, you'll need to wait just a little bit longer. I take pride in the fact that I looked at every single member of the XWF roster! I looked at every promo I could possibly get my hands on. I searched far and wide for any news story concerning the XWF roster. I found the guy I was looking for. The man I found, Pete, has agreed to join forces with the Angel of darkness with one goal in mind. Destroy the hopes and dreams of Peter Gilmour.

You're an idiot; plain and simple Duke -- have you any idea how many people would jump at the chance to try and take from Peter Gilmour? That shit is yesterday's news and I hate to break it to you but the Peter Gilmour of today isn't the same jagoff pushover he was long ago. He's got a bad reputation but that just makes it all the better when he's the one left standing over some egomaniacal piece of trash like yourself and whoever your cookie cutter partner is who wants to destroy the hopes and dreams of Peter Gilmour. What hopes and dreams? Winning the tag belts?

NEWS FLASH DICK FACE -- HE'S ALREADY DONE THAT -- AND BY HIMSELF.

I'm pretty sure his hopes and dreams have already become accomplishments and reality, but again, you aren't too good at using that thing in your skull called a brain now are you? What are you going to travel back in time with your partner? Is your partner that

mental patient who rides the short bus to events and calls himself an Angel? The douche bag who talks in riddles and thinks he can alter time? I am going to laugh my ass off if that's who you've got and he somehow convinced you that you're both going to be able to travel back to before the time Peter accomplished his hopes and dreams in the tag division. You know what though? I'm going to laugh even harder if it's not him and you somehow came up with that theory on your own because that's just -- that's just another big fat fuckin' WOW, Sebastian. I can't wait to find out which reason I should laugh at you for when I discover your partner's identity. Better keep that piece of crap tucked away as long as you can so nobody knows who it is if this is the bottom of the barrel strategies you guys are coming up with.

Quote:I know what you're thinking, Pete. How could I be so confident that we will defeat you when I have yet to find out who your partner is? The answer is simple. Quite simple, really. I just don't care.

Remember how I said you were the rotted piece of fruit that got stuck down in the crevice of the garbage can? Well somehow, some way, you've just buried yourself even deeper. I don't even need to say a fucking thing about how self-destructive that mindset is. I care who your partner is though; oh you better bet your talentless, tripping, constipated looking ass I care. I care because I need to know how hard to laugh in your face when your jaw hits the floor and you realize you've still failed even with the element of surprise on your side. I'll tell you right now, punk; no trades. You're not going to be able to swap out your partner for me and quite frankly I'd kill myself if you could because being teamed with you is a fate worse than death itself.

Quote:You heard me right. I don't care. You can bring your mother. Bring your father. Bring your entire family Pete. The fact is I just don't care who it is. Go dig up bones. Go get the rotting corpse of Owen Hart. Go get the ghost of Randy Savage. Go get the ashes of Andre the fuckin' Giant! Hell, go get Yoko-fucking-zuna! Grab Jericho, grab Hardy, grab Brock god damned Lesnar for all I care! Go find whatever hole Unknown Soldier sits in, bring him. Go give Blair Sully a piece of your dick! Bring her! Fly to whatever island Sid Feder sits on and bring him! Get Angelus, Flynn, MacAlister! IT JUST DOESN'T MATTER PETE!

Do me a favor and write down the number of your dealer for me, alright you hopped up crack pot? You just sat there listing names that either are already dead or would be dead the moment they'd step in the ring with yours truly. I am THE best this federation has ever seen and I could take on you along with that entire list and still walk out the victor. For somebody who doesn't care about Peter's partner, you sure wasted a lot of Peter's time trying to make sure you predict who it is. I guess if you just keep throwing shit at the wall something is bound to finally stick, right? Wrong. Let me pick a name out of that list and say I'm them -- hrmm -- who should I be? I'll be Sid Feder. There you go shit for brains; I'm Sid Fuckin' Feder. Happy now? Will you be able to stop guessing every random name in the book now that I've claimed one of those names? I hope so because if I have to hear another list of names I'm going to personally contact all of them and have them show up to beat your ass from pillar to post.

Quote:The outcome will be the same. Just like last week, Peter Gilmour laying on the mat looking up at the lights as Sebastian Duke hooks the leg and gets the...

1

2

3...

Ten years you've waited. Waited to capture a piece of XWF gold. January 24th you finally conquered. You've done absolutely nothing since. Never even chose or announced a partner to defend them with.

You're referencing a tag match I wasn't a part of so that is irrelevant; nice job, bucko. Let's talk about that next statement though? Peter has waiting 10 years for gold? Yeah.... Let me go ahead and guess you're wrong about that too just like all your other mindless droolage. I don't even know Peter's history but if you're claiming he's been waiting for 10 years to taste a piece of XWF gold then that tells me he has held gold in the last 10 years because everything out of your mouth is complete and utter, bass ackwards, horse shit. What else you got, little boy?

Quote:Why? I can only assume you were afraid of losing something you worked so long and hard for! You won the gold, and put it on cruise control.

Coasting...

Waiting...

Hoping...

Coasting, waiting and hoping no one would notice and that no one would challenge you. Your time is up and your luck has just run out.

So you're accusing him of using the strategy you'd use? That's impressive. Too bad when you tried that it was with the 24/7 belts, so there was no way for you to use that strategy you seem to be an absolute and complete master of with how thoroughly you describe it.

Quote:Someone noticed and you have been challenged.

Wrong. There has been no challenge. This is not even going to be a walk in the park -- it's going to be a "I ate too much for lunch, fell asleep in the park, then woke up to discover I squashed some bugs in the grass while I was dreaming of facing an opponent who knew how to trash talk" but you make sure you keep believing you're a challenge to us. I'd hate to show up Saturday and be told we have no opponents because you and your worthless partner skipped out on your contractual obligations to take a big fat pair of L's in the record books.

Quote:As February 23 looms... You know its all over. Everything you waited so long for, is about to be ripped from you grip. About to be ripped from your sweaty fat sausage fingered hands...

I'm sorry but have you seen a person with sausage fingers before? You do realize Peter isn't even fat, right? Oh wait -- I get it -- this is you just jumping on the bandwagon and using the same insults you've heard 9 dozen other people use in the past against him. Did you ever notice how stupid they sound when they're just repeating something that - A - doesn't make any sense when you take into account what an actual fatass looks like, and - B - sure as fuck didn't end up helping them when it came time to go face to face against Peter? I'm sorry but have you seen somebody throw a fat joke at Peter and it knock him down for a pin? You might as well start calling me fat too because just like Peter, I could eat you alive and spit the bones out without a second thought. Sausage fingers? Are you for real bro? Are you fucking for real right now? This? THIS? I hope to hell your partner brings something better than you do because I'm about ready to fucking vomit, and if I do vomit I'm holding you accountable which means I'm bringing it with me in a bag to bash into your face after I knock you out cold in the blink of an eye this Saturday. Pray that you don't make me vomit you overgrown mental midget.

Quote:Peter Gilmour. I'd love to beat you , but it looks like God already beat me to it! Speaking of God... Even HE can't save you.

What? You're calling someone else

? Oh that's it I've got to get the fuck out of here and grab a plastic bag. I'm about to-

-the sound of uncontrollable vomiting is heard as we are given the timely gift of exit.

3x3x

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Looks like the cat is out of the bag. You guessed right, Sebastian -- RP2 of ???
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