Post by "The Hottest Shit Going" on Sept 30, 2009 18:14:13 GMT -4
Just Backstage After the Match
The backstage curtains are shoved aside. The glistening body of Michael Lively enters the backstage area as the lights above sparkle off the evidence of hard work leaving his pours. The man grabs a towel and wipes his brow before placing his arms on his hips looking toward the wall. Frustration is in the air as Lively seems none to pleased with the outcome of the match. The pattering footsteps of a cameraman and one of those pesky reporters can be heard. Lively seems to get himself together fairly quick as he turns around. The man needs to present the stiff ultra egotistical image that he portrays so well week in and week out.
""What does the JESUS owe this extreme pleasure Cindy Shannon?"
"I'm sure you already realize. I watched you lose, and figured I could be the first one to watch you eat crow, and what better way then captured on film for all the APW faithful to check on via the web."
A devious grin appears on the White Lions face. Anyone who is familiar with Michael Lively knows what is coming next.
""Eat crow...please! I guess you are proving your inferior female qualities, and showing you lack in brain power. I'm not sure what match you saw but the JESUS was working the dwarf over like a chef kneading out some pizza dough. This little fuck stick must have sucked off the Lucky Charms Leprechaun, wore number seven boxer shorts, and jammed a rabbits foot in his ass. What I saw inside that ring was pure luck, and a little bit of assistance."
Lively then looks straight into the camera.
""Biggs, I know this will make it's way on the INTERNET's, and when it does take a seat and listen close. What happened tonight was Awesome, you simply pulled out one of your nine lives and let it ride. You know deep down in that scummy little heart of yours that there was no beating ME straight up. No move in your arsenal has what it takes, nothing you offer can get the job done without a little assistance to keep these shoulders down for the three count. So squeeze that rabbits foot out of your ass, change you boxers and spit Lucky's load out cause there is no more need for fancy superstitious items of luck. The JESUS has came and went, I have no interest in you or that lower level title. Be proud of what you have done, for on this evening you stole a victory. All you high and mighty talk of wanting to be the best, beat the best, and make a name for yourself all went down the toilet, you hypocrite. You robbed your way to victory tonight, and proved nothing except that you can't get the job done on your own. You need little bits of help to make you who you are, and put you where you stand. Hold that title high, feel ooh so proud, because from where the JESUS stands you deserve that shitty, bottom of the barrel, second rate, silver plated title belt. It suits you perfectly."
Lively then wipes the towels across his forehead and pie faces Cindy Shannon with it as he shoves past the cameraman toward the locker room.
Moving on to Greener Pastures....I guess
A music video begins begins to play with a sick rap beat thudding and pounding away. On the screen Michael Lively suddenly appears wearing no shirt, a few gold chains and a baseball hat turned back wards on his head. A pair of loose fitting baggy jeans cover his lower half as a pair of boxer shorts seem to be sticking out of the top. Lively begins bopping to the beat, and then smiles showing a gold and diamond encrusted grille over his teeth reading JESUS. He begins taking money and flinging into the air.
""Make it rain"
Lively then takes a few rolls of pennies breaks them open and tosses them into the air.
""Make it Hail!"
The man begins to spit hot lyrics like fire toward the camera so that all watching at home can feel as if Lively is talking right to them.
""I am the JESUS and it's gets no sicker then ME, I spit these lyrics like a cobra to the nasty beat. My money is tight, my game is sick. Everyone tunes in because I am the Hottest Shit. Second to none, I get the job done. Achieved almost every prize in the biz, leaving my opponents in a puddle of piss. Racking up the title of most hated man, and I do this shit each week with my two bare hands. Now that I conquered the ring, it's time to take over the rap scene."
Suddenly the beats stops with a scratching of a record which halts the JESUS dead in his tracks. He quickly spits out the golds teeth gimmick, takes off the hat, and removes the chains.
""Who am I kidding, that sounds like shit as does most of the rap music polluting the world. A talentless bunch of retards speaking to music. No singing talent, no musical talent, and certainly not worthy of riches. Why attack rap you ask, well it's the best I could do to transition into my opponent this week. Seeing how shitty, and talentless he is, it became quite hard to find anything t bash him on."
Lively then takes a smart ass look toward the camera as he rolls his eyes. There is plenty to bash the Prodigy about.
""Lets see, first let me take a moment to ask Nuenez to make up his mind. Are you a Wrestler or a Rapper, you need to decide. You are equally as shitty at both so it's toss up. I personally wish you would pick wrestling, because my ears can't take the irritation of your so called music any more. The commercials every two weeks as you constantly throw shit at the wall hopping some of it will stick. Jesse, listen...it all sucks. At least when you wrestle you won't be responsible for people driving there cars off the road so they no longer have to stomach your music coming out of their radios. Face it kid the multi-task athlete doesn't work out real well. Bo Jackson tried to dabble in more then one, and where is he now. A quick flash in the pan, and nothing but memories. Look at Shaq, a talented basketball player, yet horrible on the mic, and even worse on the big screen. The guy needs to stick to what brought him to the dance. Nuenez thats what I think you should do. Drop the Wanksta, fake gangsta act, strap on your wrestling boots and finally show the world what you are capable of. Up against real talent like myself you will be nothing more then a body pinned to the mat, but look we have a whole division of lower level dirt bags just waiting for you to outshine. One named Biggs even has a silver plated title belt you might be able to wrestle out of his lotion lubed cock smashing hands."
Lively then takes a moment to walk as another camera catches him from a different angle.
""The point is Jesse, the short bus is only parked here for a brief second, the little elevator is going up to load the other fat headed tards on for the ride. There is a seat on the bus reserved for you, just put down the Karaoke mic, leave the Casio keyboard, pump up you tennis shoes and run for the bus. It leaves for the Overdrive title scene any second. You see Jesse thats the direction I feel that is suited for a dick munching poser like yourself. People in the main event are tired of you breathing that hot semen breath of yours in there face only for you to fall short. Promises of greatness come a dime a dozen, you Jesse can be great, just a few rungs down the ladder. APW needed some one like you to fill this here spot while I was gone. Now I'm back, so take your CD's, cram as many in your ass as you can fit, and waddle on down for me big guy. This is the JESUS era, and we don't have the patience for some Nancy ass pussy trying to expand his career into the music industry. So live on Overdrive it's Michael Lively versus P. Shitty, the winner gets to move forward up the ranks and the loser gets a special triple platinum recording contract stapled to their left butt cheek. I'm no joke, yet week in and week out you prove to be just that mister master rapper. Well this week the jokes on you, instead of about you. You will be steam rolled, leveled out nice and neat. I will wipe my feet on your broken carcass as if it were a welcome mat back to were I belong. The upper echelon of talent here in APW. So little boy skedaddle, go find the leaping, dancing, penis with the Overdrive title strapped around him. Thats competition you might be able to handle. Me, I think not."
Lively then holds his hand over his head as if marking where he ranks.
""You see Jesse, this is me, way up here"
Lively then hovers his other hands around his crotch area.
""And you are down here. (Lively then begins pumping his hips in a thrusting manor) So open your mouth and take care of the kid will ya, or simply get the fuck from around me. You are like a simple club goer that has snuck into the VIP area. You have enjoyed your time while you were here, but it's time to check wrist bands and you simply have none, so out on your ass you go. Remember the good times Nuenez, when the APW classified you in the top notch rankings. The day dream is over now, and reality has come to knock you back down where you belong, right below my belt buckle. Careful, Buddy, he's a spitter."
Lively then dusts off his shoulder before super kicking the camera man leaving you all to witness nothing but static and snow.
The backstage curtains are shoved aside. The glistening body of Michael Lively enters the backstage area as the lights above sparkle off the evidence of hard work leaving his pours. The man grabs a towel and wipes his brow before placing his arms on his hips looking toward the wall. Frustration is in the air as Lively seems none to pleased with the outcome of the match. The pattering footsteps of a cameraman and one of those pesky reporters can be heard. Lively seems to get himself together fairly quick as he turns around. The man needs to present the stiff ultra egotistical image that he portrays so well week in and week out.
""What does the JESUS owe this extreme pleasure Cindy Shannon?"
"I'm sure you already realize. I watched you lose, and figured I could be the first one to watch you eat crow, and what better way then captured on film for all the APW faithful to check on via the web."
A devious grin appears on the White Lions face. Anyone who is familiar with Michael Lively knows what is coming next.
""Eat crow...please! I guess you are proving your inferior female qualities, and showing you lack in brain power. I'm not sure what match you saw but the JESUS was working the dwarf over like a chef kneading out some pizza dough. This little fuck stick must have sucked off the Lucky Charms Leprechaun, wore number seven boxer shorts, and jammed a rabbits foot in his ass. What I saw inside that ring was pure luck, and a little bit of assistance."
Lively then looks straight into the camera.
""Biggs, I know this will make it's way on the INTERNET's, and when it does take a seat and listen close. What happened tonight was Awesome, you simply pulled out one of your nine lives and let it ride. You know deep down in that scummy little heart of yours that there was no beating ME straight up. No move in your arsenal has what it takes, nothing you offer can get the job done without a little assistance to keep these shoulders down for the three count. So squeeze that rabbits foot out of your ass, change you boxers and spit Lucky's load out cause there is no more need for fancy superstitious items of luck. The JESUS has came and went, I have no interest in you or that lower level title. Be proud of what you have done, for on this evening you stole a victory. All you high and mighty talk of wanting to be the best, beat the best, and make a name for yourself all went down the toilet, you hypocrite. You robbed your way to victory tonight, and proved nothing except that you can't get the job done on your own. You need little bits of help to make you who you are, and put you where you stand. Hold that title high, feel ooh so proud, because from where the JESUS stands you deserve that shitty, bottom of the barrel, second rate, silver plated title belt. It suits you perfectly."
Lively then wipes the towels across his forehead and pie faces Cindy Shannon with it as he shoves past the cameraman toward the locker room.
Moving on to Greener Pastures....I guess
A music video begins begins to play with a sick rap beat thudding and pounding away. On the screen Michael Lively suddenly appears wearing no shirt, a few gold chains and a baseball hat turned back wards on his head. A pair of loose fitting baggy jeans cover his lower half as a pair of boxer shorts seem to be sticking out of the top. Lively begins bopping to the beat, and then smiles showing a gold and diamond encrusted grille over his teeth reading JESUS. He begins taking money and flinging into the air.
""Make it rain"
Lively then takes a few rolls of pennies breaks them open and tosses them into the air.
""Make it Hail!"
The man begins to spit hot lyrics like fire toward the camera so that all watching at home can feel as if Lively is talking right to them.
""I am the JESUS and it's gets no sicker then ME, I spit these lyrics like a cobra to the nasty beat. My money is tight, my game is sick. Everyone tunes in because I am the Hottest Shit. Second to none, I get the job done. Achieved almost every prize in the biz, leaving my opponents in a puddle of piss. Racking up the title of most hated man, and I do this shit each week with my two bare hands. Now that I conquered the ring, it's time to take over the rap scene."
Suddenly the beats stops with a scratching of a record which halts the JESUS dead in his tracks. He quickly spits out the golds teeth gimmick, takes off the hat, and removes the chains.
""Who am I kidding, that sounds like shit as does most of the rap music polluting the world. A talentless bunch of retards speaking to music. No singing talent, no musical talent, and certainly not worthy of riches. Why attack rap you ask, well it's the best I could do to transition into my opponent this week. Seeing how shitty, and talentless he is, it became quite hard to find anything t bash him on."
Lively then takes a smart ass look toward the camera as he rolls his eyes. There is plenty to bash the Prodigy about.
""Lets see, first let me take a moment to ask Nuenez to make up his mind. Are you a Wrestler or a Rapper, you need to decide. You are equally as shitty at both so it's toss up. I personally wish you would pick wrestling, because my ears can't take the irritation of your so called music any more. The commercials every two weeks as you constantly throw shit at the wall hopping some of it will stick. Jesse, listen...it all sucks. At least when you wrestle you won't be responsible for people driving there cars off the road so they no longer have to stomach your music coming out of their radios. Face it kid the multi-task athlete doesn't work out real well. Bo Jackson tried to dabble in more then one, and where is he now. A quick flash in the pan, and nothing but memories. Look at Shaq, a talented basketball player, yet horrible on the mic, and even worse on the big screen. The guy needs to stick to what brought him to the dance. Nuenez thats what I think you should do. Drop the Wanksta, fake gangsta act, strap on your wrestling boots and finally show the world what you are capable of. Up against real talent like myself you will be nothing more then a body pinned to the mat, but look we have a whole division of lower level dirt bags just waiting for you to outshine. One named Biggs even has a silver plated title belt you might be able to wrestle out of his lotion lubed cock smashing hands."
Lively then takes a moment to walk as another camera catches him from a different angle.
""The point is Jesse, the short bus is only parked here for a brief second, the little elevator is going up to load the other fat headed tards on for the ride. There is a seat on the bus reserved for you, just put down the Karaoke mic, leave the Casio keyboard, pump up you tennis shoes and run for the bus. It leaves for the Overdrive title scene any second. You see Jesse thats the direction I feel that is suited for a dick munching poser like yourself. People in the main event are tired of you breathing that hot semen breath of yours in there face only for you to fall short. Promises of greatness come a dime a dozen, you Jesse can be great, just a few rungs down the ladder. APW needed some one like you to fill this here spot while I was gone. Now I'm back, so take your CD's, cram as many in your ass as you can fit, and waddle on down for me big guy. This is the JESUS era, and we don't have the patience for some Nancy ass pussy trying to expand his career into the music industry. So live on Overdrive it's Michael Lively versus P. Shitty, the winner gets to move forward up the ranks and the loser gets a special triple platinum recording contract stapled to their left butt cheek. I'm no joke, yet week in and week out you prove to be just that mister master rapper. Well this week the jokes on you, instead of about you. You will be steam rolled, leveled out nice and neat. I will wipe my feet on your broken carcass as if it were a welcome mat back to were I belong. The upper echelon of talent here in APW. So little boy skedaddle, go find the leaping, dancing, penis with the Overdrive title strapped around him. Thats competition you might be able to handle. Me, I think not."
Lively then holds his hand over his head as if marking where he ranks.
""You see Jesse, this is me, way up here"
Lively then hovers his other hands around his crotch area.
""And you are down here. (Lively then begins pumping his hips in a thrusting manor) So open your mouth and take care of the kid will ya, or simply get the fuck from around me. You are like a simple club goer that has snuck into the VIP area. You have enjoyed your time while you were here, but it's time to check wrist bands and you simply have none, so out on your ass you go. Remember the good times Nuenez, when the APW classified you in the top notch rankings. The day dream is over now, and reality has come to knock you back down where you belong, right below my belt buckle. Careful, Buddy, he's a spitter."
Lively then dusts off his shoulder before super kicking the camera man leaving you all to witness nothing but static and snow.
