Post by Frank Windsor on Jan 11, 2022 14:56:45 GMT -5
DNA OF THE BADMAN!!!
Finn was as nervous as could be as he looked directly at Frank Windsor. Frank was his mentor as much as Rob Riot and Billy Fowler had been to him. He liked to pay it forward and not end up being saddled with a debt he couldn’t pay back. That’s how it should be in the wrestling industry even if you were portraying something you were not really like.
It was sometime like treading on egg shells around Frank as he actually believed in himself one hundred per cent but this wasn’t what Finn Corbyn was going to be like. He had watched wrestling shows when he had been a small child in his homeland in Ireland but now he had a real chance to live the dream.
“Stop mopping Finn and point that fucking camera at me,” Frank muttered as he stood in front of him. He was dressed in his usual get-up and both his championship belts were over his shoulders. “I think it’s time we replied to that fuck-tard.”
Finn nodded as he picked the camera up and put it in position.
“Wow, just saying Alex but those bollocks must be scraping on the fucking floor mate,” Frank said as he started his rant of sorts. “You think by doing some rant back at me makes you all that and a packet of crisps? You ain’t nothing mate, you ain’t even half the man that Frank fucking Windsor is. I proved that before when Robbie and I absolutely destroyed you and your furry friend and those other guys in the tag championship match. What? Did you forget that? It’s on the fucking website, I can wait whilst you go and fucking reminds yourself. Got tissues? You’ll have to use them for the tears this time round.”
Finn moved round with the camera. He tried to get a different angle but it didn’t work as well so he went back to the original one.
“I could go around all the fucking houses with reasons that I am so much better than you but why should I, it’s just a fucking fact,” he continued. “This ain’t no fucking ego thing for me, I ain’t trying to steal the fucking glory from you mate, I ain’t got no magic horse fucking shoe it’s just that I know that I am the real thing. Not some fake piece of shit like you who has dumped his furry friend for this other cunt that doesn’t know any fucking better.”
Frank turned and looked at the camera.
“With the NPW dumping the old network and being the franchise for this new fucking place we all need to keep on our fucking toes, even some punk like me,” Frank said. “It’s not like we can throw on some hi karate or Lynx like you seem to Alex as the Bastards have fought for everything we’ve ever had. Robbie may be the fucking poster boy for the team but we all know where the fucking talent is don’t we?”
A smirk crossed his face as he had planned what he was going to say today.
“Oh do you think it’s just me here spurting some fucking monologue for my own pity fuck vanity project?” he asked whilst looking directly at the camera. “You don’t know me Alex; you don’t know where my head is right now. I could go on about being the bad man but I won’t give you more fucking scraps to use against me in some kind of pity tirade of words; for fuck sakes Alex you didn’t even contemplate my fucking offer did you? Fucking coward is what you are wanker; yes that’s right a fucking limp dicked wanker at that.”
A smile crossed his lips.
“Last time I spoke I spoke about maybe opening the fucking forbidden door,” Frank continued. “I talked about what if the three of us, the Bastards could turn up on SWAT or even BRAVE and fuck shit up; we’re fucking good at the Bastard shit and it could be fun and enjoyable for the fucking Network’s ratings. Billy and I showed the world what it’s like to be part of the greatest faction last show didn’t we? And Robbie will show the world soon what is to come. Well unless Robbie tries to side track Billy’s career like he did to me in RSW.”
He caressed his tag championship belt as he continued.
“I shouldn’t hold that against him still should I? It’s been years but he was the power behind the throne in RSW,” he said. “He tried to sabotage my career by turning me into this homo fucking erotic sort that went around dressed like a fucking Elton John cosplayer with a bunch of fucking midgets as sidekicks. What the fuck was that all about? Robbie thought that would break me as he signed my payslip. But alas it fucking just made me stronger. But then the final nail in the fucking coffin; That anniversary show for Riot Star Wrestling where I was booked to fucking job in a triple threat with the three of us Bastards. What am I breaking fucking Kayfabe or something talking like this?”
He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the camera.
“Anyway that’s enough fucking history for today isn’t it,” Frank muttered. “Do you think that I give a rat’s ass about the rest of the fucking locker room right now? This is all about the Bastards and the Network can throw who they like at us. I don’t give a flying fuck about any of those cunts in any of their locker rooms.”
Frank was coming to an end of his rant of sorts.
“So this is going to be an interesting show for me,” Frank said. “And Alex you’re going to go out in a blaze of fucking glory when I fucking put you out of your fucking misery. Bring your new little friend as you know where I go the Bastards won’t be far off, now fuck off!”
It was sometime like treading on egg shells around Frank as he actually believed in himself one hundred per cent but this wasn’t what Finn Corbyn was going to be like. He had watched wrestling shows when he had been a small child in his homeland in Ireland but now he had a real chance to live the dream.
“Stop mopping Finn and point that fucking camera at me,” Frank muttered as he stood in front of him. He was dressed in his usual get-up and both his championship belts were over his shoulders. “I think it’s time we replied to that fuck-tard.”
Finn nodded as he picked the camera up and put it in position.
“Wow, just saying Alex but those bollocks must be scraping on the fucking floor mate,” Frank said as he started his rant of sorts. “You think by doing some rant back at me makes you all that and a packet of crisps? You ain’t nothing mate, you ain’t even half the man that Frank fucking Windsor is. I proved that before when Robbie and I absolutely destroyed you and your furry friend and those other guys in the tag championship match. What? Did you forget that? It’s on the fucking website, I can wait whilst you go and fucking reminds yourself. Got tissues? You’ll have to use them for the tears this time round.”
Finn moved round with the camera. He tried to get a different angle but it didn’t work as well so he went back to the original one.
“I could go around all the fucking houses with reasons that I am so much better than you but why should I, it’s just a fucking fact,” he continued. “This ain’t no fucking ego thing for me, I ain’t trying to steal the fucking glory from you mate, I ain’t got no magic horse fucking shoe it’s just that I know that I am the real thing. Not some fake piece of shit like you who has dumped his furry friend for this other cunt that doesn’t know any fucking better.”
Frank turned and looked at the camera.
“With the NPW dumping the old network and being the franchise for this new fucking place we all need to keep on our fucking toes, even some punk like me,” Frank said. “It’s not like we can throw on some hi karate or Lynx like you seem to Alex as the Bastards have fought for everything we’ve ever had. Robbie may be the fucking poster boy for the team but we all know where the fucking talent is don’t we?”
A smirk crossed his face as he had planned what he was going to say today.
“Oh do you think it’s just me here spurting some fucking monologue for my own pity fuck vanity project?” he asked whilst looking directly at the camera. “You don’t know me Alex; you don’t know where my head is right now. I could go on about being the bad man but I won’t give you more fucking scraps to use against me in some kind of pity tirade of words; for fuck sakes Alex you didn’t even contemplate my fucking offer did you? Fucking coward is what you are wanker; yes that’s right a fucking limp dicked wanker at that.”
A smile crossed his lips.
“Last time I spoke I spoke about maybe opening the fucking forbidden door,” Frank continued. “I talked about what if the three of us, the Bastards could turn up on SWAT or even BRAVE and fuck shit up; we’re fucking good at the Bastard shit and it could be fun and enjoyable for the fucking Network’s ratings. Billy and I showed the world what it’s like to be part of the greatest faction last show didn’t we? And Robbie will show the world soon what is to come. Well unless Robbie tries to side track Billy’s career like he did to me in RSW.”
He caressed his tag championship belt as he continued.
“I shouldn’t hold that against him still should I? It’s been years but he was the power behind the throne in RSW,” he said. “He tried to sabotage my career by turning me into this homo fucking erotic sort that went around dressed like a fucking Elton John cosplayer with a bunch of fucking midgets as sidekicks. What the fuck was that all about? Robbie thought that would break me as he signed my payslip. But alas it fucking just made me stronger. But then the final nail in the fucking coffin; That anniversary show for Riot Star Wrestling where I was booked to fucking job in a triple threat with the three of us Bastards. What am I breaking fucking Kayfabe or something talking like this?”
He shrugged his shoulders and looked at the camera.
“Anyway that’s enough fucking history for today isn’t it,” Frank muttered. “Do you think that I give a rat’s ass about the rest of the fucking locker room right now? This is all about the Bastards and the Network can throw who they like at us. I don’t give a flying fuck about any of those cunts in any of their locker rooms.”
Frank was coming to an end of his rant of sorts.
“So this is going to be an interesting show for me,” Frank said. “And Alex you’re going to go out in a blaze of fucking glory when I fucking put you out of your fucking misery. Bring your new little friend as you know where I go the Bastards won’t be far off, now fuck off!”
