Post by Frank Windsor on Feb 3, 2022 13:49:59 GMT -5
The camera panned up and it showed the Bastard’s tour bus which seemed to be parked in some sort parking structure outside of the arena the last show had been held at. Rob Riot and Billy Fowler were all stood there, the anger tripping like sweat off of them. Frank Windsor paced in front of them with his tag championship belt over his shoulders; he looked like he was about to explode. A camera was set up in front of him recording his little rant of sorts.
“It’s your boy, Frank Windsor; so it’s time to show the world what we’re about,” Frank said as he turned and looked directly at the camera. “The Bastards are a unique crew of like-minded individuals and this is how we are treated? Do you know how that feels like?”
Rob tried to calm him down. “It’s alright Frankie; we’ll destroy those punks the right way; face to face. We don’t need to jump people from behind. This Empire of theirs will fall like every other Empire in history has.”
“Empire? Right, so you think that putting your mucky mitts on anyone of the Bastards won’t get you a beat down from the rest of us?” Frank asked as he turned back to the camera. “We’ve stood toe to toe with much better wrestlers than you bunch of wankers and have shown them the fucking door when they’ve had their asses stomped in and walked dry and look at the size of Fowler and imagine him walking it fucking dry. And he doesn’t use fucking lube; now picture that image fuck-tards!”
Billy nodded as he caressed where they had hit him.
“You think that we’re bothered that your little troop of da-juice-stains thinks that you can make a name for yourself by attacking me and then my boys when they come out from the back to help me out?” Frank asked the question as Rob tried to calm him down. “That was a big mistake assholes as you’ve opened that door and can’t shut it without a blood sacrifice. Will it be you Donzig? What about the wanker with the surname of Awesome? What are you awesome at? Are you the best of the three with the reach round?”
“I don’t usually agree with you on much Frank,” Fowler interrupted. “But this I do.”
“And you Alex,” Frank muttered. “The coward of the fucking bunch of your self-proclaimed Empire; you think that I’ve forgotten how you didn’t even contemplate my offer for our last match? No, hell no. You cowardly side-stepped that to bring together your little circle jerking club out to the ring and show the world of professional fucking wrestling what you are really like. Oh Alex, you fucking plonker; you think that the Bastards will let you get away with this mistake of yours?”
Rob put the other tag championship belt on his shoulder and looked down the camera himself.
“I think I should get the boys to take out your boys Alex,” Frank continued. “While they’ve Terry Waited them to the ring ropes I could take it out on you alone for your sins against this group. Oh come on Alex, you’re not as thick as a Ghurkha’s foreskin are you? You know you’ve fucked up and made an enemy of not only the Bastards but the Sultan of Shlong Time too, that’s me if you’d not fucking worked it out.”
Fowler shook his head at Frank’s comments like usual.
“I think you guys dropped the crappuccino this time,” he said. “Who gave you the idea of taking it to the Bastards straight away? You could have built up to this fucking money feud before eventually we took you out the fucking back, put a bullet in your forehead and buried you under the patio. Now that would be fucking poetic but you didn’t get the fucking memo and thought you’d take it to the biggest, baddest guys in the locker room, and Billy Fowler.”
Fowler nodded before he realised that Frank had slightly insulted him also.
“Oh I know all three of these Empire clowns must be spending most of their time sat on the bog sounding like East 17 dancing on fucking bubble wrap,” he continued as a smirk came across Rob’s face for a split second. “You know you’ve royally fucked up; you know you’re going to do a Tommy Cooper right? Die in the fucking ring guys when these fucking guys get their hands on you. You know who you’ve fucking messing around with?”
Rob smirked.
“And I’ve not even got to the moniker of the Empire,” Frank laughed. “You guys think that by proclaiming yourself the Empire that you’re the dog’s bollocks? Have you not read a book about the history of Empire’s in the fucking world? They usually expand, shine brightly for a while before they fucking implode. Happened with the Roman fucking Empire, look at the Greeks, hell even look at British fucking Empire. Is that what you fucking want? Well we can fucking arrange that you fucking wankers.”
Frank stretched his shoulders.
“We’ll be turning up to Halifax tooled the fuck up,” Frank said. “This street fight with no fucking honour is going to be off the fucking chain or whatever that saying is you fucking Yanks keep murdering. Anyway the real Holy Trinity of Professional wrestling are going to show those pretenders up. Fowler would probably classed the Father, if the rumours about one of side birds was correct about him knocking her up, then I’d be the Son, learning my skills from the others which leaves Rob Riot as the Holy Spirit, do I need to explain to you why?”
Rob thought about it for a few seconds before he eventually nodded.
“And well you know the rest of how I end these,” Frank finished. “I must remind you to press the like button, subscribe to my channel and of course press the bell to keep updated on stuff about the Bastards.“
“It’s your boy, Frank Windsor; so it’s time to show the world what we’re about,” Frank said as he turned and looked directly at the camera. “The Bastards are a unique crew of like-minded individuals and this is how we are treated? Do you know how that feels like?”
Rob tried to calm him down. “It’s alright Frankie; we’ll destroy those punks the right way; face to face. We don’t need to jump people from behind. This Empire of theirs will fall like every other Empire in history has.”
“Empire? Right, so you think that putting your mucky mitts on anyone of the Bastards won’t get you a beat down from the rest of us?” Frank asked as he turned back to the camera. “We’ve stood toe to toe with much better wrestlers than you bunch of wankers and have shown them the fucking door when they’ve had their asses stomped in and walked dry and look at the size of Fowler and imagine him walking it fucking dry. And he doesn’t use fucking lube; now picture that image fuck-tards!”
Billy nodded as he caressed where they had hit him.
“You think that we’re bothered that your little troop of da-juice-stains thinks that you can make a name for yourself by attacking me and then my boys when they come out from the back to help me out?” Frank asked the question as Rob tried to calm him down. “That was a big mistake assholes as you’ve opened that door and can’t shut it without a blood sacrifice. Will it be you Donzig? What about the wanker with the surname of Awesome? What are you awesome at? Are you the best of the three with the reach round?”
“I don’t usually agree with you on much Frank,” Fowler interrupted. “But this I do.”
“And you Alex,” Frank muttered. “The coward of the fucking bunch of your self-proclaimed Empire; you think that I’ve forgotten how you didn’t even contemplate my offer for our last match? No, hell no. You cowardly side-stepped that to bring together your little circle jerking club out to the ring and show the world of professional fucking wrestling what you are really like. Oh Alex, you fucking plonker; you think that the Bastards will let you get away with this mistake of yours?”
Rob put the other tag championship belt on his shoulder and looked down the camera himself.
“I think I should get the boys to take out your boys Alex,” Frank continued. “While they’ve Terry Waited them to the ring ropes I could take it out on you alone for your sins against this group. Oh come on Alex, you’re not as thick as a Ghurkha’s foreskin are you? You know you’ve fucked up and made an enemy of not only the Bastards but the Sultan of Shlong Time too, that’s me if you’d not fucking worked it out.”
Fowler shook his head at Frank’s comments like usual.
“I think you guys dropped the crappuccino this time,” he said. “Who gave you the idea of taking it to the Bastards straight away? You could have built up to this fucking money feud before eventually we took you out the fucking back, put a bullet in your forehead and buried you under the patio. Now that would be fucking poetic but you didn’t get the fucking memo and thought you’d take it to the biggest, baddest guys in the locker room, and Billy Fowler.”
Fowler nodded before he realised that Frank had slightly insulted him also.
“Oh I know all three of these Empire clowns must be spending most of their time sat on the bog sounding like East 17 dancing on fucking bubble wrap,” he continued as a smirk came across Rob’s face for a split second. “You know you’ve royally fucked up; you know you’re going to do a Tommy Cooper right? Die in the fucking ring guys when these fucking guys get their hands on you. You know who you’ve fucking messing around with?”
Rob smirked.
“And I’ve not even got to the moniker of the Empire,” Frank laughed. “You guys think that by proclaiming yourself the Empire that you’re the dog’s bollocks? Have you not read a book about the history of Empire’s in the fucking world? They usually expand, shine brightly for a while before they fucking implode. Happened with the Roman fucking Empire, look at the Greeks, hell even look at British fucking Empire. Is that what you fucking want? Well we can fucking arrange that you fucking wankers.”
Frank stretched his shoulders.
“We’ll be turning up to Halifax tooled the fuck up,” Frank said. “This street fight with no fucking honour is going to be off the fucking chain or whatever that saying is you fucking Yanks keep murdering. Anyway the real Holy Trinity of Professional wrestling are going to show those pretenders up. Fowler would probably classed the Father, if the rumours about one of side birds was correct about him knocking her up, then I’d be the Son, learning my skills from the others which leaves Rob Riot as the Holy Spirit, do I need to explain to you why?”
Rob thought about it for a few seconds before he eventually nodded.
“And well you know the rest of how I end these,” Frank finished. “I must remind you to press the like button, subscribe to my channel and of course press the bell to keep updated on stuff about the Bastards.“
