Post by "The Hottest Shit Going" on Dec 12, 2008 3:12:54 GMT -4
Lively stands looking into a mirror. He looks down at the piece of paper, and then back at the mirror. His face very focused, serious, and all business.
"Erin Murphy, I'm not sure what your thinking. Where to begin, where to start. You entering a mans world. A world dominated by the superior sex. Our muscle contrast, are speed, agility is far more advanced of that then a woman. Then throw in the mental capacity, which isn't even in the same league. It all starts as children. Little boy's a rugged, and tough. They are told to suck it up, and given big trucks, and soldiers to play with. Everything with a boy boils down to a crash, explosion, or a simple ass whooping. Little girls are coddled, dressed up fancy, and given dolls. They dream about weddings, cooking, and white picket fences. Just speaking about that stirs my stomach as if the Gordita supreme I just ate was coming up for a visit. It's real simple from birth men are trained, and groomed to be protectors, fighters, and the workhorses of the world. Women are propped up as the secondary slave to a man. Taught to clean the house, tend to the children, and spread when the hardworking man comes home from a long day of providing for his family. Another subject that makes me think of shitting. Erin Murphy...somewhere along the time line things changed...you fucking broads thought you were equals...began thinking your are on the same level as men. Well every broad that has spewed that mouth full of bullshit to me got it rammed back down their throat and forced out of their ass."
Lively takes a drink from the bottle of Aquafina sitting on the table he stands int front of. The man takes a deep breath and then looks back up into the mirror as if practicing his lines.
"Erin Murphy you will be no different. You will suffer the same defeat all women have at my hands. Like all the others I will love it so much. I'm not sure what I get a better thrill out of...winning titles, making the fans break out in to a "FUCK YOU JESUS" chant, or slamming some dumb bitches ass to the mat all while disfiguring their face. To be quite honest though Erin...there is something else that disturbs me. Something else that has me wondering what exactly what in the blue hell were you thinking. Was it your agent forcing you to pursue this. Was it that stupidity bred into you from birth that you really could do what any man does...or is it that you are desperate for another five minutes of fame. I will ask you these questions Erin Murphy after our match, as I'm sure you will be asking yourself as well. Along with your entire family, friends...all pondering the temporary insanity that you have suffered. I mean I am the Hottest Shit Going...I am the picture of perfection...and no doubt-idly the mother fucking JESUS, but after it's all said and done sweat tits...you can just call me Michael."
Lively pauses again. His eyes seeming to scan the paper laying on the table. He once again takes a drink to clear his throat. His eyes then lift back into the glare from the mirror. Just as he opens his mouth to continue on, a voice calls out from behind him. In the mirror his mother can be seen sitting in a chair behind her son. Her legs open, and exposing her self slightly.
"Michael...quick question"
"Uh...can you cross your legs...you showing off your clam box."
She then crosses her legs, and bounces the tops leg ever so gently as she asks her question.
"Why are you cutting a promo on Erin Murphy?"
"Cause I'm fighting her later on tonight."
"No you are fighting Tabitha Crowley"
"Yeah the young whore from Bewitched...that just learned how to wrestle on Hulk Hogans reality show Celebrity Championship Wrestling...and now the slut has invaded the APW...well the JESUS is going to send her packing with a low class ticket to the slums where she can use her body like it was intended to be used, as a cum dumpster for men with five bucks to spare."
"Uhh...no thats Tabitha Stevens...your opponent is Tabitha Crowley. She seems pretty legit, I mean I was checking out her stats...and I have to say...all her moves have fancy names...and cool little videos showing you exactly what she can do."
"Well thats just fucking great and dandy. Now I'm going to have to re-write my whole script. Rethink my whole in ring strategy, and think of something else for a promo. You know something mother...you have this uncanny way of fucking my life up, You always make thing difficult for me. I'm smooth sailing through my lines, getting ready to snag up a camera guy...and drop a nasty promo...but NO!"
Ms. Lively looks at her son with that panicked look on her face. She sits up, and tries to plead with her son.
"Michael...I just thought if I didn't say something you would look stupid."
"ohhh...now I'm stupid..wonderful"
"NO..th..thats not what I was saying...I just didn't want the fans to think"
"The FANS...you really think those retards would have realized what the fuck I was talking about...let alone who...they would have put one and two together and came up with three...just like I don inside that ring....you know mother...you wonder why I kick you every night."
Ms. Lively closes her eyes clenching her jaw waiting for the kick that is sure to come. She waits, and waits, and nothing.
"I'm not going to kick you...it's not worth it...I have too much to do, not enough time, I have some rewriting to do."
Lively then leaves the scene. Ms. Lively lets out a sigh of relief, and leans back in the chair. For once in her life she didn't piss off her son enough to receive that super kick. For one night her chin will receive a break, and get a chance to actually heal from the pain that comes with that boot to her face.
***CRACK***
Just then a foot connects with her face. She flails backward as the chair topples over. Lively then looks at his mother with a smirk.
"Just figured out what I'm going to say...and had a free minute...so figured I could fit you in mother."
Lively then grabs his title belt off the table, and walks out of the locker room. Some time slater the Overdrive champion can be scene walking out of a room. His upper body covered with his trademark hooded vest, and right shoulder carrying the tag team title belt. His lower half sporting a new pair of custom air brushed tights. The back side reads "Return of the Woman Hater" with a woman sporting two black eyes underneath it. The front side of the air brushed beauties has the backside of a woman head near his crotch area looking as if he were receiving oral. The member of the ACTS OF GOD is stopped in his tracks by the whistling of another. The person whistling at Lively was the other half of the championship team, Twister.
"Nice tights...looking very uh...TIGHT!"
"Fuck off..what do you need...I'm ready to do an in ring...apparently we don't have any competition around here for these so..JEff figured I could boost the ratting by beating another bitch...besides YOU!"
Twisters smirks at Lively as he claps his hands. The man then takes off his shades, folds them, and hangs them by the collar of his shirt.
"Listen, we are a damn good team, and these don't really prove that. (Pointing to the gold) Besides...do you sleep with that damn thing...it's frickin every where you go....sporting your title to the grocery store is a little weird."
"What...it's a prestigious title"
"Listen...it is just that...but seriously...me and you winning these titles from Hardcore Ice...was like winning the gold medal at the Special Olympics...if you get my drift"
"Well...if I won a gold medal at the Special Olypics I would be pretty proud..."
Twister shakes his head covering his eyes. Twister gains his composure, and places a hand on Lively's shoulder.
"Look dude...it was a walk in the park to nab up these belts...if a real team comes along then maybe it will be an honorable thing to be tag team champion. I mean seriously...we are kind of like Hardcore Ice...standing all alone as champions."
"Listen dude...your bringing me down...I'm fighting some dirty whore in about an hour....and your talking some high ass shit...listen...what I know is I am a champion...with full fledged privileges to the champs lounge...can Carl Cage get in there?"
"NO"
"What about Level One, Fyre Angel, Trevor Blackwell, or even Tabitha Crowely...not a single one can get in there...not a single one has their name engraved on a plate riveted to a title belt....but I do...and so do you. We beat two chumps to get the titles...and no matter who decides to step up, who decides to become a team...or how much we bicker...we are the tag team champs now...and for a long time to come...cause no one cane fully prepare for the ACTS OF GOD."
Lively then turns to walk away.
"Thats still a gay name...Holy Storm would have sounded so much cooler with that line."
Lively just keeps walking.
About twenty minutes later the lights go out in the arena, as snow begins to fall. A blue strobe light begins to flicker along with the music of AFI's Miseria Cantare. The silhouette of Michael Lively appears on the ramp way. His tag title tucked in his pants, swinging between his legs. He flips his hood off, and strikes a I AM JESUS pose. The fans boo the presence of Michael Lively in the arena, as he welcomes the hate. He then begins strutting toward the ring. Along the way jawing at the fans, flipping them off, ans tops at the bottom just short of the ring. Lively looks over at an eight year old boy who is sitting on his fathers shoulders giving Lively two thumbs down.
Michael Lively smirks at the young fans, the spits right in his face. The fans surrounding the ringside area roar with hate. A "FUCK YOU JESUS" chant breaks out as the father of the man leans over the guard rail screaming at Lively. He answers the irritation like only Michael Lively does by kicking the father in the face. Security scrambles to the scene. Lively claims he was worried for his safety, and the enters the ring. He takes his title out, and holds it high into the air. He grabs a mic from the apron, and takes center ring to cut loose.
"APW...your super villain has arrived."
Boo's from the crowd.
"Thats right Michael mother fucking Lively has arrived into the arena. So I'm going to get right into it. First thing...my contract here in APW is close to expiring."
The fans erupt, which doesn't happen much when Lively is in the ring alone.
"Listen...that may make you people happy...but sadly my legal team is in the process of negotiating another contract for me. Now...when I signed here...I knew what I was capable of, what I can do in this ring...the thing was no one else did. So I took the contract here, came in and proved myself to APW, and the world. Did what I knew what I could do. The way I see it is, APW and Jeff got off pretty cheap...pennies on the dollar for what I have delivered. Well to keep the greatness that is Michael Lively on board...these fuck are going to pony up with some cash. I have stepped up, and given this organization a franchise face that is the JESUS. I put asses in the seats...cause the biggest draw isn't the good guy, or the super hero...it's that bad guy..the villain. People flock to boo what they hate...they hate people who are better then them...and seeing that pretty much every one hates me even my tag team partner...that only means I truly am the Hottest Shit Going."
Lively switches angles turning into another camera.
"So enough contract petitioning...the simple solution is pony up bitches...not onto this evening. Another example of why I am worth a boat load of cash...how I destroy women inside this ring. Tonight shall be no different. Tabitha Crowley is penciled in for a come to JESUS meeting. When it comes to women in APW, they call on ME. When there are Ghosts people call Ray, Peter, and Egon...and when it comes to women in the world of wrestling they call Michael "The Woman Hater" Lively..cause I ain't afraid of no sluts."
Lively chuckles at his little joke
"So Miss Crowley you will get to experience first hand what so many women here in APW have had the pleasure of going through, catching my boot in your face. I hope you new found love Trevor Blackwell, like black eyes, cause I will be customizing your face with a couple. I heard he will be escorting you to the ring...so he will see first hand the brutality I will unload on you. Just for him every pin fall I go for, will not be a simple pin. No ma'am, I will sure pump my hips, thrust my crotch, and disrespect you at every turn. Treat you like the whore you were born as. Tonight I break you down, smash your will, and shove a few of your teeth down your throat."
Lively paces around the ring as he continues.
"For this match tonight, I'm dusting off an old friend, I'm breaking out the old Uterus Kick, and planting it straight in your gut. I refuse to be beaten by a two bit, slutty skank. I will not be seconded by some dirty whore. This ring you're about to step into...it's ruled by ME. Tonight sugar tits, I'll be introducing myself to you. I am the savior of wrestling, the picture of perfection. Once your counting the lights flat on your back like all women belong...you will realize...that I am the JESUS. As the my music plays, and you begin to regain your focus...and smell will fill the air...and you will now for certain...that I have taken a shit on your career!"
Lively throws the mic to the ground, and strikes a JESUS pose. His music begins to play, and the fans rain down a chorus of boo's for the man simply known as JESUS.
"Erin Murphy, I'm not sure what your thinking. Where to begin, where to start. You entering a mans world. A world dominated by the superior sex. Our muscle contrast, are speed, agility is far more advanced of that then a woman. Then throw in the mental capacity, which isn't even in the same league. It all starts as children. Little boy's a rugged, and tough. They are told to suck it up, and given big trucks, and soldiers to play with. Everything with a boy boils down to a crash, explosion, or a simple ass whooping. Little girls are coddled, dressed up fancy, and given dolls. They dream about weddings, cooking, and white picket fences. Just speaking about that stirs my stomach as if the Gordita supreme I just ate was coming up for a visit. It's real simple from birth men are trained, and groomed to be protectors, fighters, and the workhorses of the world. Women are propped up as the secondary slave to a man. Taught to clean the house, tend to the children, and spread when the hardworking man comes home from a long day of providing for his family. Another subject that makes me think of shitting. Erin Murphy...somewhere along the time line things changed...you fucking broads thought you were equals...began thinking your are on the same level as men. Well every broad that has spewed that mouth full of bullshit to me got it rammed back down their throat and forced out of their ass."
Lively takes a drink from the bottle of Aquafina sitting on the table he stands int front of. The man takes a deep breath and then looks back up into the mirror as if practicing his lines.
"Erin Murphy you will be no different. You will suffer the same defeat all women have at my hands. Like all the others I will love it so much. I'm not sure what I get a better thrill out of...winning titles, making the fans break out in to a "FUCK YOU JESUS" chant, or slamming some dumb bitches ass to the mat all while disfiguring their face. To be quite honest though Erin...there is something else that disturbs me. Something else that has me wondering what exactly what in the blue hell were you thinking. Was it your agent forcing you to pursue this. Was it that stupidity bred into you from birth that you really could do what any man does...or is it that you are desperate for another five minutes of fame. I will ask you these questions Erin Murphy after our match, as I'm sure you will be asking yourself as well. Along with your entire family, friends...all pondering the temporary insanity that you have suffered. I mean I am the Hottest Shit Going...I am the picture of perfection...and no doubt-idly the mother fucking JESUS, but after it's all said and done sweat tits...you can just call me Michael."
Lively pauses again. His eyes seeming to scan the paper laying on the table. He once again takes a drink to clear his throat. His eyes then lift back into the glare from the mirror. Just as he opens his mouth to continue on, a voice calls out from behind him. In the mirror his mother can be seen sitting in a chair behind her son. Her legs open, and exposing her self slightly.
"Michael...quick question"
"Uh...can you cross your legs...you showing off your clam box."
She then crosses her legs, and bounces the tops leg ever so gently as she asks her question.
"Why are you cutting a promo on Erin Murphy?"
"Cause I'm fighting her later on tonight."
"No you are fighting Tabitha Crowley"
"Yeah the young whore from Bewitched...that just learned how to wrestle on Hulk Hogans reality show Celebrity Championship Wrestling...and now the slut has invaded the APW...well the JESUS is going to send her packing with a low class ticket to the slums where she can use her body like it was intended to be used, as a cum dumpster for men with five bucks to spare."
"Uhh...no thats Tabitha Stevens...your opponent is Tabitha Crowley. She seems pretty legit, I mean I was checking out her stats...and I have to say...all her moves have fancy names...and cool little videos showing you exactly what she can do."
"Well thats just fucking great and dandy. Now I'm going to have to re-write my whole script. Rethink my whole in ring strategy, and think of something else for a promo. You know something mother...you have this uncanny way of fucking my life up, You always make thing difficult for me. I'm smooth sailing through my lines, getting ready to snag up a camera guy...and drop a nasty promo...but NO!"
Ms. Lively looks at her son with that panicked look on her face. She sits up, and tries to plead with her son.
"Michael...I just thought if I didn't say something you would look stupid."
"ohhh...now I'm stupid..wonderful"
"NO..th..thats not what I was saying...I just didn't want the fans to think"
"The FANS...you really think those retards would have realized what the fuck I was talking about...let alone who...they would have put one and two together and came up with three...just like I don inside that ring....you know mother...you wonder why I kick you every night."
Ms. Lively closes her eyes clenching her jaw waiting for the kick that is sure to come. She waits, and waits, and nothing.
"I'm not going to kick you...it's not worth it...I have too much to do, not enough time, I have some rewriting to do."
Lively then leaves the scene. Ms. Lively lets out a sigh of relief, and leans back in the chair. For once in her life she didn't piss off her son enough to receive that super kick. For one night her chin will receive a break, and get a chance to actually heal from the pain that comes with that boot to her face.
***CRACK***
Just then a foot connects with her face. She flails backward as the chair topples over. Lively then looks at his mother with a smirk.
"Just figured out what I'm going to say...and had a free minute...so figured I could fit you in mother."
Lively then grabs his title belt off the table, and walks out of the locker room. Some time slater the Overdrive champion can be scene walking out of a room. His upper body covered with his trademark hooded vest, and right shoulder carrying the tag team title belt. His lower half sporting a new pair of custom air brushed tights. The back side reads "Return of the Woman Hater" with a woman sporting two black eyes underneath it. The front side of the air brushed beauties has the backside of a woman head near his crotch area looking as if he were receiving oral. The member of the ACTS OF GOD is stopped in his tracks by the whistling of another. The person whistling at Lively was the other half of the championship team, Twister.
"Nice tights...looking very uh...TIGHT!"
"Fuck off..what do you need...I'm ready to do an in ring...apparently we don't have any competition around here for these so..JEff figured I could boost the ratting by beating another bitch...besides YOU!"
Twisters smirks at Lively as he claps his hands. The man then takes off his shades, folds them, and hangs them by the collar of his shirt.
"Listen, we are a damn good team, and these don't really prove that. (Pointing to the gold) Besides...do you sleep with that damn thing...it's frickin every where you go....sporting your title to the grocery store is a little weird."
"What...it's a prestigious title"
"Listen...it is just that...but seriously...me and you winning these titles from Hardcore Ice...was like winning the gold medal at the Special Olympics...if you get my drift"
"Well...if I won a gold medal at the Special Olypics I would be pretty proud..."
Twister shakes his head covering his eyes. Twister gains his composure, and places a hand on Lively's shoulder.
"Look dude...it was a walk in the park to nab up these belts...if a real team comes along then maybe it will be an honorable thing to be tag team champion. I mean seriously...we are kind of like Hardcore Ice...standing all alone as champions."
"Listen dude...your bringing me down...I'm fighting some dirty whore in about an hour....and your talking some high ass shit...listen...what I know is I am a champion...with full fledged privileges to the champs lounge...can Carl Cage get in there?"
"NO"
"What about Level One, Fyre Angel, Trevor Blackwell, or even Tabitha Crowely...not a single one can get in there...not a single one has their name engraved on a plate riveted to a title belt....but I do...and so do you. We beat two chumps to get the titles...and no matter who decides to step up, who decides to become a team...or how much we bicker...we are the tag team champs now...and for a long time to come...cause no one cane fully prepare for the ACTS OF GOD."
Lively then turns to walk away.
"Thats still a gay name...Holy Storm would have sounded so much cooler with that line."
Lively just keeps walking.
About twenty minutes later the lights go out in the arena, as snow begins to fall. A blue strobe light begins to flicker along with the music of AFI's Miseria Cantare. The silhouette of Michael Lively appears on the ramp way. His tag title tucked in his pants, swinging between his legs. He flips his hood off, and strikes a I AM JESUS pose. The fans boo the presence of Michael Lively in the arena, as he welcomes the hate. He then begins strutting toward the ring. Along the way jawing at the fans, flipping them off, ans tops at the bottom just short of the ring. Lively looks over at an eight year old boy who is sitting on his fathers shoulders giving Lively two thumbs down.
Michael Lively smirks at the young fans, the spits right in his face. The fans surrounding the ringside area roar with hate. A "FUCK YOU JESUS" chant breaks out as the father of the man leans over the guard rail screaming at Lively. He answers the irritation like only Michael Lively does by kicking the father in the face. Security scrambles to the scene. Lively claims he was worried for his safety, and the enters the ring. He takes his title out, and holds it high into the air. He grabs a mic from the apron, and takes center ring to cut loose.
"APW...your super villain has arrived."
Boo's from the crowd.
"Thats right Michael mother fucking Lively has arrived into the arena. So I'm going to get right into it. First thing...my contract here in APW is close to expiring."
The fans erupt, which doesn't happen much when Lively is in the ring alone.
"Listen...that may make you people happy...but sadly my legal team is in the process of negotiating another contract for me. Now...when I signed here...I knew what I was capable of, what I can do in this ring...the thing was no one else did. So I took the contract here, came in and proved myself to APW, and the world. Did what I knew what I could do. The way I see it is, APW and Jeff got off pretty cheap...pennies on the dollar for what I have delivered. Well to keep the greatness that is Michael Lively on board...these fuck are going to pony up with some cash. I have stepped up, and given this organization a franchise face that is the JESUS. I put asses in the seats...cause the biggest draw isn't the good guy, or the super hero...it's that bad guy..the villain. People flock to boo what they hate...they hate people who are better then them...and seeing that pretty much every one hates me even my tag team partner...that only means I truly am the Hottest Shit Going."
Lively switches angles turning into another camera.
"So enough contract petitioning...the simple solution is pony up bitches...not onto this evening. Another example of why I am worth a boat load of cash...how I destroy women inside this ring. Tonight shall be no different. Tabitha Crowley is penciled in for a come to JESUS meeting. When it comes to women in APW, they call on ME. When there are Ghosts people call Ray, Peter, and Egon...and when it comes to women in the world of wrestling they call Michael "The Woman Hater" Lively..cause I ain't afraid of no sluts."
Lively chuckles at his little joke
"So Miss Crowley you will get to experience first hand what so many women here in APW have had the pleasure of going through, catching my boot in your face. I hope you new found love Trevor Blackwell, like black eyes, cause I will be customizing your face with a couple. I heard he will be escorting you to the ring...so he will see first hand the brutality I will unload on you. Just for him every pin fall I go for, will not be a simple pin. No ma'am, I will sure pump my hips, thrust my crotch, and disrespect you at every turn. Treat you like the whore you were born as. Tonight I break you down, smash your will, and shove a few of your teeth down your throat."
Lively paces around the ring as he continues.
"For this match tonight, I'm dusting off an old friend, I'm breaking out the old Uterus Kick, and planting it straight in your gut. I refuse to be beaten by a two bit, slutty skank. I will not be seconded by some dirty whore. This ring you're about to step into...it's ruled by ME. Tonight sugar tits, I'll be introducing myself to you. I am the savior of wrestling, the picture of perfection. Once your counting the lights flat on your back like all women belong...you will realize...that I am the JESUS. As the my music plays, and you begin to regain your focus...and smell will fill the air...and you will now for certain...that I have taken a shit on your career!"
Lively throws the mic to the ground, and strikes a JESUS pose. His music begins to play, and the fans rain down a chorus of boo's for the man simply known as JESUS.
