"ASCENSION OF THE BADMAN
Jan 1, 2022 16:52:45 GMT -5
SWAT eFed, Jesse Jamester, and 3 more like this
Post by Frank Windsor on Jan 1, 2022 16:52:45 GMT -5
"ASCENSION OF THE BADMAN!!!
The figure was just stood in the centre of the parking lot outside the arena. Darkness surrounded him, as he leaned against a chain link fence, with his arms crossed over his chest. He leaned into the fence a bit more and bounced off the fence to stand up straight and look directly into the camera. Only his eyes were visible.
The man just stood, no expression in his eyes, as he neared the camera, until his upper body was the only thing seen. He was wearing a t-shirt with the Retro Bastards logo upon it. He sneered at the camera. He then turned to face the sky and spoke, as if speaking to the heavens above, or as if speaking to himself.
“Some people think that you’ve got the gift of the fucking gab matey,” Frank muttered. “They say that you can talk the fucking hind legs off of anything you fucking want to Alex, but do you really have it when it fucking matters? If you’re looking for someone in the bloody wrestling industry that can talk then we all know it’s this fucking bloke, Frank fucking Windsor. Our paths have fucking crossed before and we both know how that fucking turned out for you mate.”
He was just using the cameras to get his anger out to the world for what went down.
“So after watching Honour you seem to have traded that weird fucking hairy tag partner you had for another goddamn wanker,” Frank laughed. “Dildo, Dick Dastardly or whatever fucking name that guy you’ve started hanging out with in that battle royale match seems to want to help you out. I did fucking feel sorry for Eddie Havok for a split second when you two fucking tossers teamed up on him but then that passed when you got the win Alex. So you’re number one contender for the North American Double Crown now? Does it feel fucking good? Maybe I should take that goddamn opportunity away from you as well you cock womble? It could be fun to have the opportunity to bring another fucking gold strap back to the GREATEST fucking stable in professional fucking wrestling period. So have you got the fucking bollocks to put that number one contender-ship on the fucking line? We all know it’s wasted on you as you’ll not get that belt off of the big freaky masked man but Frank Windsor would and I’ll say easily.”
Frank shrugged his shoulders for a split second before he looked back at the camera.
“Have you been watching me recently?” Frank asked. “Not only the breakout star from NPW, but also the fucking Galactic Sex Pirates too, yeah, that’s a throwback to when we debuted on the old network and surprised the fuck out of everyone before the real cream rose to the fucking top and the Bastards discarded the rest like a discarded condom after the fact.”
He slowly cracked a grin across his face as he leaned back against the fence and crossed his arms over his chest, as he laughed a bit of what he said.
“Anyway, after defending the NPW Imperial Crown Tag Championships belts with Fowler in the main event of the last NPW show of the year I’m in the main event once again of one of NPW’s big cruiserweight shows against Alex Turner,” he smiled. “Yeah, this fucking cruiserweight is going to show all the rest why he’s the best cruiserweight who happens to fucking be living in the body of someone who’s not a fucking cruiserweight. I still think they’re being weight-ist as why shouldn’t I have been in this fucking cruiserweight competition from the start. They just don’t want the Bastards having more fucking gold than Mister fucking T.”
The camera man tried to reposition the camera he carried.
“Talking about gold I think this Network has opened a whole new kettle of fucking fish,” Frank said. “We saw the announcement of them making that Indie fed SWAT’s Anzac tag tourney a network show. Do you think the Bastards wouldn’t be all over this? Whatever combination you look at in the Bastards will enter this tournament and bring back those gold straps home. Hell, we could turn up on SWAT and teach Goth and Vector what it’s like to be in the big leagues or even go over to Japan and bring back the tag belts from Marshall and Stevens. Could you fucking imagine that? Oh yes you can.”
A laugh echoed around the parking lot as Frank motioned scrubbing his eyeballs.
“It would be fun but probably won’t happen as we know how very protective and cowardly these other wrestling promotions are trying to defend their products,” Frank said. “They don’t want what they think is a cancer in this business like the three guys known as the Bastards coming into their promotions and showing up their talent. That would show the world that their product is sub-par when it comes to NPW since we’ve been a fucking main stay right?”
He sighed as he turned around and looked at fence.
“So Alex,” he said. “I digressed a bit but you’d know about that mate. Anyway we face off one on one at this Cruiserweight thingy, I’ll ask you this one more time as we’ve know you’ve not got the bollocks to do it BUT why don’t you surprise the fucking world and put that shot on the line? Come on you know it’s good for fucking business right? Anyway we know you won’t as you’re a fucking coward as you’re scared that I’m going to fucking kick your teeth down your throat that you’ll be shitting enamel for a few months.”
Frank stretched his arms out and a click in his shoulders was heard.
“Now it’s time,” he continued. “Let’s put this thing into fucking high gear and show the world why the Bastard are all that, now fuck off.”
Frank turned his face away from the black sky.
“You still here?” he said.
The man just stood, no expression in his eyes, as he neared the camera, until his upper body was the only thing seen. He was wearing a t-shirt with the Retro Bastards logo upon it. He sneered at the camera. He then turned to face the sky and spoke, as if speaking to the heavens above, or as if speaking to himself.
“Some people think that you’ve got the gift of the fucking gab matey,” Frank muttered. “They say that you can talk the fucking hind legs off of anything you fucking want to Alex, but do you really have it when it fucking matters? If you’re looking for someone in the bloody wrestling industry that can talk then we all know it’s this fucking bloke, Frank fucking Windsor. Our paths have fucking crossed before and we both know how that fucking turned out for you mate.”
He was just using the cameras to get his anger out to the world for what went down.
“So after watching Honour you seem to have traded that weird fucking hairy tag partner you had for another goddamn wanker,” Frank laughed. “Dildo, Dick Dastardly or whatever fucking name that guy you’ve started hanging out with in that battle royale match seems to want to help you out. I did fucking feel sorry for Eddie Havok for a split second when you two fucking tossers teamed up on him but then that passed when you got the win Alex. So you’re number one contender for the North American Double Crown now? Does it feel fucking good? Maybe I should take that goddamn opportunity away from you as well you cock womble? It could be fun to have the opportunity to bring another fucking gold strap back to the GREATEST fucking stable in professional fucking wrestling period. So have you got the fucking bollocks to put that number one contender-ship on the fucking line? We all know it’s wasted on you as you’ll not get that belt off of the big freaky masked man but Frank Windsor would and I’ll say easily.”
Frank shrugged his shoulders for a split second before he looked back at the camera.
“Have you been watching me recently?” Frank asked. “Not only the breakout star from NPW, but also the fucking Galactic Sex Pirates too, yeah, that’s a throwback to when we debuted on the old network and surprised the fuck out of everyone before the real cream rose to the fucking top and the Bastards discarded the rest like a discarded condom after the fact.”
He slowly cracked a grin across his face as he leaned back against the fence and crossed his arms over his chest, as he laughed a bit of what he said.
“Anyway, after defending the NPW Imperial Crown Tag Championships belts with Fowler in the main event of the last NPW show of the year I’m in the main event once again of one of NPW’s big cruiserweight shows against Alex Turner,” he smiled. “Yeah, this fucking cruiserweight is going to show all the rest why he’s the best cruiserweight who happens to fucking be living in the body of someone who’s not a fucking cruiserweight. I still think they’re being weight-ist as why shouldn’t I have been in this fucking cruiserweight competition from the start. They just don’t want the Bastards having more fucking gold than Mister fucking T.”
The camera man tried to reposition the camera he carried.
“Talking about gold I think this Network has opened a whole new kettle of fucking fish,” Frank said. “We saw the announcement of them making that Indie fed SWAT’s Anzac tag tourney a network show. Do you think the Bastards wouldn’t be all over this? Whatever combination you look at in the Bastards will enter this tournament and bring back those gold straps home. Hell, we could turn up on SWAT and teach Goth and Vector what it’s like to be in the big leagues or even go over to Japan and bring back the tag belts from Marshall and Stevens. Could you fucking imagine that? Oh yes you can.”
A laugh echoed around the parking lot as Frank motioned scrubbing his eyeballs.
“It would be fun but probably won’t happen as we know how very protective and cowardly these other wrestling promotions are trying to defend their products,” Frank said. “They don’t want what they think is a cancer in this business like the three guys known as the Bastards coming into their promotions and showing up their talent. That would show the world that their product is sub-par when it comes to NPW since we’ve been a fucking main stay right?”
He sighed as he turned around and looked at fence.
“So Alex,” he said. “I digressed a bit but you’d know about that mate. Anyway we face off one on one at this Cruiserweight thingy, I’ll ask you this one more time as we’ve know you’ve not got the bollocks to do it BUT why don’t you surprise the fucking world and put that shot on the line? Come on you know it’s good for fucking business right? Anyway we know you won’t as you’re a fucking coward as you’re scared that I’m going to fucking kick your teeth down your throat that you’ll be shitting enamel for a few months.”
Frank stretched his arms out and a click in his shoulders was heard.
“Now it’s time,” he continued. “Let’s put this thing into fucking high gear and show the world why the Bastard are all that, now fuck off.”
Frank turned his face away from the black sky.
“You still here?” he said.
