Post by Your JESUS on Feb 25, 2013 20:06:59 GMT -4
~Everything I Do Has It's Explanations~
We jump in the rental car right after our exit from Overdrive, headed to the airport. The Xtreme championship sitting on my lap, acquired by questionable means. In this business, trust me, many titles are acquired by so called questionable means. As we drive on toward our destination I look upon this belt thinking back to when I unseated Chris Cyrus from his almost one year reign as champion. At that time I looked to bring back the allure of Xtreme to this once disgraced championship. I was willing to spill pints upon pints of my blood for victory. I was willing to swallow any ounce of fear that could have risen to the surface, and take any risk needed to put forth the best Holy Shit moment possible. I was willing to dig deep, fight hard, and embrace possible scarring, proudly ready to show them off like awards. The funny thing about this mind set was that it is what I came in to the business with, and how I approached every match. It wasn't something I tried to adapt to for my sake of winning the Xtreme championship. It was something that has been present with me every step up and down the ladder of success here in APW. There hasn't been anyone who has spent more time on this ladder then me. No one more decorated in Action Packed Wrestling then Michael Lively. In three years time I set the bar, not for others, just for myself. That's what I do, focus on a goal and run toward that mission with intent to attack.
The thing about me setting goals, is they have no expiration date on them. I just keep pushing forward until I achieve my desired result. One thing added to my to do list is get the rematch with A.C. Smith. He isn't as good as he projects himself. He definitely isn't as good as others view him to be. This is the part of the story where you scratch your head confused. Michael Lively has thrown you for a loop once again, and I must say it isn't hard to do. There are many who claim to know how I operate, and even more who think they have me figured out. The reality is there aren't many who can even scratch the surface of my complicated mind. Sure I am brash, arrogant and at times obnoxious. I come across as an evil and classless bastard with no regard for anyone but myself. While all these things may have weight on the scales of truth, balancing out the other side is a huge question mark. A variable that can only be described as an unknown. I am a craftsman of the game, a master of this physiological game of human chess. In the vault of this question mark resides many things, and where your answer to the boggle my profound statement lies. If A.C. Smith is in fact not that good, and over rated, then how do you rank Michael Lively? It's true on two occasions I came up short, on the losing end when it comes to A.C. Smith. One of which wasn't a singles match, so factor in those odds and you do the Michael Lively math...that's one loss to Smith. In the realm of wrestling and simple luck of the draw it can be considered nothing more then a fluke.
Fluke or no fluke it makes no difference. I live by the thought process of "Card Classification". It's what makes wrestling world tick so to speak. You have all types of characters that fit on the scale of Card Classification. You have your "Open Card" guys. They are nothing more then fluffers or hype men to warm the crowd for the incredible action they about to experience. These Open Carders are great at what they do, they have their place, and that's about as far as it goes. These dark match bastards, they aren't ready for TV and never will be. Then comes the largest category in the Card Class game, the middle class if you will. Mid-Carders, they excite the crowd once the show goes live and carry their attention toward the end. Most shows have large program, there for their need of depth at the Mid-card level is hefty. Many companies, APW not excluded, create numerous titles for this mid card society. I have heard them all...TV titles, U.S. titles, Dixie championships, Hardcores, Southern States, you name it there is a title. The business has even went as far as sliming belts into more specific categories like submission based titles. All to make sure that generic, one sided grappler with the ability to slap on a submission from time to time has a place to shine. It's all about keeping the crowd entertained, focused and awake for the cream of the crop. Thats right our last category to be explained in this "Card Classification" is the Card Closers. The Elite, the main event. Many men strive to move from Mid Card to this level of success. Sadly it's only for a select few. Some of these Elite by pass both Card Classifications from the gate and jump to the front of the line. Others mostly have the "It" factor and spend a brief amount of time in the Mid-Card before graduating to their rightful place, as a Card Closer.
So now that you have been educated with all this information I would like to pose a question as to where I fit in Card Classification? Take your time I have a moment, so there is no rush. Think about the knowledge I just bestowed upon you, and now with your best detective glasses on and your armchair promoter skills try and classify a Michael Lively.
Card Closer...that's your final answer? It is? Well sadly I hate to inform you but you are dead wrong. I am in a class of my own, known world wild as "The Wild Card". I can run in any aspect of the organization and thrive in that setting. You can't simply put me in a box. I have been up and down the card, and from week to week you never know where I could be. APW knows that, they love it and exploit it. A guy that has potential to rise out of dark match obscurity and take his rightful place in the middle of the program, that isn't quite ready. He can gain his confidence, and earn his stripes with a world class talent such as myself. If they need a main event spot filled, then Michael Lively is once again thrust into that bright spotlight. I am a jack of all trades. Why have I ranted on about this, to simply pose you another question. Where does A.C. Smith fit into this scale? Again, I will give you a chance to think about the information given, then ponder Smith and his skill set. Ready, Go!!
Again you chose Card Closer. You think he is a top level talent that hasn't yet had his balls drop so to speak? Well once again you are wrong, Smith is nothing more then a Mid-Card seat warmer. I will prove that to the world, while staking my claim as thee only Wild Carder in the history of this great business. He chooses to play a game of avoidance, thinking he's getting in my head, messing with my psyche, oh how mistaken this former cop is.
I proudly glare toward his Xtreme championship title with nothing but devious thoughts. A Wild Card fits in any situation, can adapt to all challenges, and surely in every case can be the ultimate game changer.
~A Red Carpet Affair~
A private jet escorted me and my personal cameraman Chubs to Los Angeles in a timely matter. Our target Hollywood, mission the red carpet at the Oscars. Objective is a simple one, cut a promo like only Michael Lively can. So with my crafty quick wit, a fancy suit and Chubs fully equipped with video gear we descend upon the Oscars security staff and make it through with ease. After a few moments we a directed to what will be designated as our area along the entrance way of the stars. I find it hard to refer to them as stars, but thankfully there aren't as fabulous and esteemed as say a "Megastar". After an hour of patience the Hollywood celebs began to show their faces. These media scum began barking, snapping, and yelling like frantic young girls at a One Direction concert. A few well dressed actors and actresses scurry by and I made zero attempt to catch their attention. I figured if you arrive first you must be a nobody. As time moved forward I decided to give it a go. A young woman in a dress walked into our general zone, I waved her down. Chubs knowing me, and realizing I haven't a clue who she is throws me a bone.
Chubs: Mike...that's Jennifer Lawrence.
So with a microphone in one hand, I flag her down with my other calling her name.
Lively: Jennifer...Hey Jennifer!!
Wouldn't you know it the woman couldn't resist the hypnotizing powers of my chiseled and rugged face. If only she knew I hate her and her entire species. She walks over smiling as I go to work.
Lively: Jennifer, hi how are you?
Jennifer: Goo...
Lively: Yeah, ok. Michael Lively with APW magazine. You heard of us?
She looks puzzled but like all celebrity robots she nods her head yes.
Lively: Sure you have!
Her eyebrows raise as my condescending tone blurts out.
Lively: Anyway you must be excited tonight to be nominated for...Uhhh...an Oscar?
Jennifer: Yes, It's an honor and I am excited to be here let alone be nominated.
Lively: Alright role reversal time.
Jennifer: What?
Lively: You are an actress right, so role reversal time. A simple concept. Lets see if you can give them a last minute performance to lock up your award.
I hand her the microphone as she looks kind of puzzled by my request.
Lively: You are a journalist, and lets say I'm a top notch superior athlete, a legendary wrestler ready to have a match later on this week. You interview me for my up coming festivities.
Jennifer: Oh, ok cool. Who are you going to be, the Legendary Level One?
Instantly my demeanor changes from fun loving to O.J. Simpson ready to knife a bitch. I cup the microphone and glare at this woman.
Lively: NO...not Level One, lets just use MY name.
Jennifer: I'm sorry what was it again?
Lively: Just hold the microphone while I speak, you will know when to chime in ok, improv with me.
She nods as I cut loose.
Lively: Here we are, in the city of celebrities. A city of power, fame and fortune, what better place for your JESUS Michael Lively to arrive and address the masses for this weeks Overdrive.
The woman snickers a bit as I shift a raised eyebrow her direction.
Jennifer: Sorry is this a comedy magazine you work for, because your delivery is hilarious?
Lively: What do you mean?
Jennifer: It's just funny. Really funny.
Lively: Whattya mean I'm funny?
Tension build as she hesitates to answer me.
Jennifer: You're just funny, y'know. It's funny. You're a funny guy.
Lively: Whattya mean? The way I talk? What?
Jennifer: It's just, y'know, it's just funny, you know the tone and everything ...
Lively: Funny how? I mean, what's funny about it?
Chubs seems nervous and chimes in.
Chubs: Mike, no, you got it all wrong ...
Lively: Whoa, whoa Chubs! She's a big girl, she knows what she said. What'd you say? Funny how? What?
The woman looks awkward and answers.
Jennifer: Just you know you're funny.
Lively: You mean, let me understand this ... cuz ... maybe its me, maybe I'm a little fucked up maybe. I'm funny how, I mean funny, like I'm a clown? I amuse you. I make you laugh? I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? Whattya you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?
Jennifer: I don't know just ... you know.
Lively: No, no I don't know. You said it. How do I know? You said I'm funny.
I start screaming at the top of my lungs as this woman begins to tremble with fear.
Lively: How the fuck am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me? Tell me. Tell me what's funny?
Silence fills the air as she carefully holds the microphone still. I crack a smile as the crowd around me breaks out in applause. I lean carefully into the mic.
Lively: That was Goodfellas darling, relax, I was acting, something tells me you were a little nervous?
She smiles and nods her head.
Lively: Well, come Thursday night my opponent should feel the nerves you just experienced. Buckson Gooch should be ready to experience the full blown wrath of Wrestling's savior.
Unsure if I am still acting or just out of my mind Jennifer Lawrence thanks me and tries to hand back the microphone. I don't break and keep talking my trash.
Lively: Gooch what is this? Last I heard you were part of a subpar tag team. What happened did Bane catch you fucking his Goats again? Did he finally get tired of you raping his chickens?
At this point Jennifer just sets the microphone on the ground and walks away. I mumble out some more generic trash to ruffle the feathers of my opponent but I'm not sure if the mic really picked up any of it. So I pause, realizing that fact and pick up the microphone. I turn back toward the carpet waiting for the next celeb to waltz my direction. I see a couple that many of the media seems enthralled with.
Lively: Chubs...who's that?
Chubs: George Clooney and his girl Stacy Kiebler.
Lively: Wow I didn't recognize him with that beard.
With that I go to work trying to hail the couple my direction.
Lively: George...George!! You were the man on General Hospital!!!
I turn toward Chubs who chuckles.
Lively: I love that show don't fucking laugh!!
I then smile toward the camera because it worked and George Clooney walks over.
Lively: George, I'm Michael Lively with APW magazine, big fan. I got to ask what's up with the beard? You get a role in Broke Back Mountain Two, the Return of Jack Nasty?
George smirks a little, then cracks a response.
George: No your mom thought I looked good with a beard so decided since we spend so many nights together I would satisfy her in just more ways then one!!
Clearly he doesn't know my mother. I know her trashy ass and this statement he just made could almost be truth. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, feeling this is going down hill fast I jump right into promo mode by handing Stacy Kiebler the microphone. I turn toward the camera and start to spit.
Lively: Buckson Gooch, the Southern Belle of APW. The company may want to push you and promote you as a talent. I know that the world sees you like I do. A pig propped up for show. They put lipstick on you, dressed you in a pretty gown, and have decided to shine a bright light on what they hope could be their next big thing. I hate to inform you Miss Piggy, but when I strip you down in front of thousands on Thursday night you will be exposed as nothing more then hot dog meat and a cheap breakfast side. No matter what you try, you can't make steak from Pig meat. The same rings true with wrestling, you can't make a main eventer out of a mid card mediocre Texan. So when I decide to play Truth or Dare on the next episode of Overdrive I will choose truth by exposing your...
George grabs the microphone and interrupts me mid sentence.
George: What are you doing? We thought you wanted to talk to us about tonight. I thought you wanted to discuss Stacy's dress, my career?
I snatch the microphone from him.
Lively: You self centered piece of fucking trash. You want me to talk about her dress...it would look better on my bedroom floor, how about that. Her makeup would look better if she was crying with mascara running down her cheeks while she does my dishes naked!!!
George: You son of a bitch, you watch your mouth!!
Lively: Lets talk about your career, the best thing for it is if you check your tone. I will knock the beard clean off your face. You wont get hired anywhere when I shove you on the ground and force feed you my ball sack right here on the red carpet in front of everyone...So maybe you should move along!!
We exchange an awkward stare briefly before he grabs Stacy's hand to walk away. I blow the woman a kiss while I massaging my crotch sending them off in style. I turn back toward the camera shrugging my shoulders. Chubs points toward the carpet area.
Chubs: Oh damn it's Adelle!
I can't help but wonder so I spin around looking for a hot actress. None seem to be in sight so I look back toward Chubs who still seems rather excited.
Chubs: She'a a singer Mike...the best singer!
Still lost I simply turn around blurting out the name Adelle until some one responds. This approach isn't working, so I have to dive into my bag of tricks. No matter how much it pains me to do it, we are immersed among celebrities...
Lively: Adelle, Adelle Level One told me to find you!!!
Wouldn't you know, it worked. Over my way waddled a plump women simply because I mentioned the name of Level One. I knew mentioning Lester's name would do the trick, there is no other person on this planet that prostitutes themselves for celebrities more then that cheap prick. I am surprised because like my fat camera man Level One also seems be a Sir Mix A Lot fan, liking the big and round!! With this double chinned singer standing in my presence I can't muster the strength to play nice. One she is of course a "she", second, she could probably eat my opponent on Overdrive's weight in Texas Barbecue. So...it is what it is!!
Lively: S'up chunky, how you living tonight? No need to answer we can see you live large.
Adelle: I have never...
Lively: From the size of your stomach I would say you haven't, unless of course you first lift that fat pouch up but then it would still seem difficult for a guy to cram that juice box of yours.
Her face frowns with disgust.
Lively: Hold up I can't tell if you are happy or mad? Your face is frowning but the thing above your second chin looks like a smile! So fat gurl, come here...are you ticklish?
I almost drop the microphone as I break out in laughter. My salute to Digital Underground and the Humpty Dance went unappreciated. The look on her face is priceless though. At an event where all these assholes show up to get their taints tickled by a bunch of jerk off's with microphones, this woman can't believe I won't tickle her Gooch. Instead I, Michael Lively have brought her back to reality. The reality that she could stand to lose a few pounds, a reality where she should do the dishes without scarfing down the leftovers. The truth hurts and that's what I offer up.
Lively: So Pauly Packs Pounds what brings you here tonight?
I tilt the microphone her direction expecting an answer. What happens next, well lets just say it was well deserved.
Adelle: You are an asshole!!!
"SLAP"
My face jerks to the side from her violent act of aggression. The crowd around stops in their tracks looking our direction. I straighten my head as you could here the lump in Chubs throat when he gulped in fear for what happens next. I smile at this hefty heifer then launch at her with my hands grabbing her throat in full rape choke status. I rode this bitch to the ground like a dirt bike. For a modern day fatty she has skills because she wasted no time and hip sweeped me in defense of my attack.
I release my grip shooting out the back door and what a mess it was back there might I add. I swear I slid past her and came out covered in cottage cheese. I jockey to my feet fast and stun her with a jab to the throat. With my natural instincts taking charge I snap my legs sideways, spring the hips, and whip a super kick right in her English mush. A sickening crack rings out as this mountain of a singer hits the ground breathing heavy and unconscious. I quickly adjust my suit and look toward the mob of people staring my direction. I hold my hands up as if asking the people to hear me out.
Lively: Calm down, we are just acting. It's a Pre show the Oscars have put together for you people. Something to spice up the red carpet a bit, because let's face it this shit is boring.
The crowd seems unsure, and I'm not convinced they are buying my story.
Lively: Ladies and Gentleman...give it up for Adelle...
I start clapping and like trained monkeys everyone follows along giving her a huge round of applause. While these zombies are distracted I take this opportunity to grab Chubs and hi tale it out of there. We catch a cab back to the airport, because I can only imagine it would be in my best interest to leave Hollywood as fast as possible. I can't help but think I didn't get to cover everything in my promo that I wished, so before stepping on board the jet I use it as a back drop to finish up my words for Buckson Gooch.
Lively: Gooch, I deal in truths. Since that's the case let me be completely honest with you. You are talented, you are tough, and you pose a number of threats to many competitors, even myself if I am not careful. The truth is...you are middle of the road nothing more. Just like A.C. Smith, you have achieved the height of your success, and it's my duty to be the one on the rung of the ladder to let you know you can go no higher. It seems you have taken interest in Smith as of late, better yet, you have your big dopey ass Texas sized peepers focused on the Xtreme title. They say everything is bigger in Texas. Liking big things you have chosen the biggest company to stake your claim to fame, APW. Wise choice! You have also somewhere deep in your heart decided to except your place in the largest classification in wrestling, the mid card and why you aspire for this belt. Well that too was wise because it's where you belong. It's a big lake for your plus sized body to wade around. Also this week you go one on one with the biggest name in APW. If you were a thinking man, you will simply take this loss and redirect your focus. I will not have you inserting yourself in my business. Smith and I have issues to resolve and some corn fed inbred slob like yourself can't just waddle off the farm and interject yourself where it doesn't belong. So any idea you have of tangling with Smith, I will be glad to remove it. Any dream of getting your hands on that Xtreme title, I will gladly piss on the flames that fuel those thoughts as well. Overdrive it's me and you, no partners, no distractions. You get to tangle with a Hall of Famer, and sadly it's probably as close you will come to the Hall of Fame. Soak it in, Big boy! I'm also a former world champion so get a wiff of that too if you feel the need. I can be that taste, the window into a realm you will never venture toward. I can come and go as I please up and down this ladder of success. Right now here I am in the mid card on a mission. That mission involves A.C. Smith. Since putting people in their place, breaking the harsh reality that this is far as some men will go in their career is implanted in my mindset I guess testing out my delivery of that news on your sorry ass will be a good warm up for me. Buckson Gooch, I hope you say a Texas sized prayer that I will show you an ounce of mercy on Thursday night. If you do I can promise you as the JESUS, I welcome that prayer with my arms out stretched...
I throw my arms aside in the I Am JESUS pose.
Lively: and my dick out in the open, ready to piss on your hopes and dreams. Cause I hate to inform you I am in no mood to fill requests, or answer prayers...Michael Lively is only interested in shitting on those of you below my rung, so you can know your place and the smell you give off will inform others that you met the gate keeper otherwise known as the Hottest Shit Going!!!
I break my pose and glare at the camera before shaking my head in disgust and boarding the plane.
We jump in the rental car right after our exit from Overdrive, headed to the airport. The Xtreme championship sitting on my lap, acquired by questionable means. In this business, trust me, many titles are acquired by so called questionable means. As we drive on toward our destination I look upon this belt thinking back to when I unseated Chris Cyrus from his almost one year reign as champion. At that time I looked to bring back the allure of Xtreme to this once disgraced championship. I was willing to spill pints upon pints of my blood for victory. I was willing to swallow any ounce of fear that could have risen to the surface, and take any risk needed to put forth the best Holy Shit moment possible. I was willing to dig deep, fight hard, and embrace possible scarring, proudly ready to show them off like awards. The funny thing about this mind set was that it is what I came in to the business with, and how I approached every match. It wasn't something I tried to adapt to for my sake of winning the Xtreme championship. It was something that has been present with me every step up and down the ladder of success here in APW. There hasn't been anyone who has spent more time on this ladder then me. No one more decorated in Action Packed Wrestling then Michael Lively. In three years time I set the bar, not for others, just for myself. That's what I do, focus on a goal and run toward that mission with intent to attack.
The thing about me setting goals, is they have no expiration date on them. I just keep pushing forward until I achieve my desired result. One thing added to my to do list is get the rematch with A.C. Smith. He isn't as good as he projects himself. He definitely isn't as good as others view him to be. This is the part of the story where you scratch your head confused. Michael Lively has thrown you for a loop once again, and I must say it isn't hard to do. There are many who claim to know how I operate, and even more who think they have me figured out. The reality is there aren't many who can even scratch the surface of my complicated mind. Sure I am brash, arrogant and at times obnoxious. I come across as an evil and classless bastard with no regard for anyone but myself. While all these things may have weight on the scales of truth, balancing out the other side is a huge question mark. A variable that can only be described as an unknown. I am a craftsman of the game, a master of this physiological game of human chess. In the vault of this question mark resides many things, and where your answer to the boggle my profound statement lies. If A.C. Smith is in fact not that good, and over rated, then how do you rank Michael Lively? It's true on two occasions I came up short, on the losing end when it comes to A.C. Smith. One of which wasn't a singles match, so factor in those odds and you do the Michael Lively math...that's one loss to Smith. In the realm of wrestling and simple luck of the draw it can be considered nothing more then a fluke.
Fluke or no fluke it makes no difference. I live by the thought process of "Card Classification". It's what makes wrestling world tick so to speak. You have all types of characters that fit on the scale of Card Classification. You have your "Open Card" guys. They are nothing more then fluffers or hype men to warm the crowd for the incredible action they about to experience. These Open Carders are great at what they do, they have their place, and that's about as far as it goes. These dark match bastards, they aren't ready for TV and never will be. Then comes the largest category in the Card Class game, the middle class if you will. Mid-Carders, they excite the crowd once the show goes live and carry their attention toward the end. Most shows have large program, there for their need of depth at the Mid-card level is hefty. Many companies, APW not excluded, create numerous titles for this mid card society. I have heard them all...TV titles, U.S. titles, Dixie championships, Hardcores, Southern States, you name it there is a title. The business has even went as far as sliming belts into more specific categories like submission based titles. All to make sure that generic, one sided grappler with the ability to slap on a submission from time to time has a place to shine. It's all about keeping the crowd entertained, focused and awake for the cream of the crop. Thats right our last category to be explained in this "Card Classification" is the Card Closers. The Elite, the main event. Many men strive to move from Mid Card to this level of success. Sadly it's only for a select few. Some of these Elite by pass both Card Classifications from the gate and jump to the front of the line. Others mostly have the "It" factor and spend a brief amount of time in the Mid-Card before graduating to their rightful place, as a Card Closer.
So now that you have been educated with all this information I would like to pose a question as to where I fit in Card Classification? Take your time I have a moment, so there is no rush. Think about the knowledge I just bestowed upon you, and now with your best detective glasses on and your armchair promoter skills try and classify a Michael Lively.
Card Closer...that's your final answer? It is? Well sadly I hate to inform you but you are dead wrong. I am in a class of my own, known world wild as "The Wild Card". I can run in any aspect of the organization and thrive in that setting. You can't simply put me in a box. I have been up and down the card, and from week to week you never know where I could be. APW knows that, they love it and exploit it. A guy that has potential to rise out of dark match obscurity and take his rightful place in the middle of the program, that isn't quite ready. He can gain his confidence, and earn his stripes with a world class talent such as myself. If they need a main event spot filled, then Michael Lively is once again thrust into that bright spotlight. I am a jack of all trades. Why have I ranted on about this, to simply pose you another question. Where does A.C. Smith fit into this scale? Again, I will give you a chance to think about the information given, then ponder Smith and his skill set. Ready, Go!!
Again you chose Card Closer. You think he is a top level talent that hasn't yet had his balls drop so to speak? Well once again you are wrong, Smith is nothing more then a Mid-Card seat warmer. I will prove that to the world, while staking my claim as thee only Wild Carder in the history of this great business. He chooses to play a game of avoidance, thinking he's getting in my head, messing with my psyche, oh how mistaken this former cop is.
I proudly glare toward his Xtreme championship title with nothing but devious thoughts. A Wild Card fits in any situation, can adapt to all challenges, and surely in every case can be the ultimate game changer.
~A Red Carpet Affair~
A private jet escorted me and my personal cameraman Chubs to Los Angeles in a timely matter. Our target Hollywood, mission the red carpet at the Oscars. Objective is a simple one, cut a promo like only Michael Lively can. So with my crafty quick wit, a fancy suit and Chubs fully equipped with video gear we descend upon the Oscars security staff and make it through with ease. After a few moments we a directed to what will be designated as our area along the entrance way of the stars. I find it hard to refer to them as stars, but thankfully there aren't as fabulous and esteemed as say a "Megastar". After an hour of patience the Hollywood celebs began to show their faces. These media scum began barking, snapping, and yelling like frantic young girls at a One Direction concert. A few well dressed actors and actresses scurry by and I made zero attempt to catch their attention. I figured if you arrive first you must be a nobody. As time moved forward I decided to give it a go. A young woman in a dress walked into our general zone, I waved her down. Chubs knowing me, and realizing I haven't a clue who she is throws me a bone.
Chubs: Mike...that's Jennifer Lawrence.
So with a microphone in one hand, I flag her down with my other calling her name.
Lively: Jennifer...Hey Jennifer!!
Wouldn't you know it the woman couldn't resist the hypnotizing powers of my chiseled and rugged face. If only she knew I hate her and her entire species. She walks over smiling as I go to work.
Lively: Jennifer, hi how are you?
Jennifer: Goo...
Lively: Yeah, ok. Michael Lively with APW magazine. You heard of us?
She looks puzzled but like all celebrity robots she nods her head yes.
Lively: Sure you have!
Her eyebrows raise as my condescending tone blurts out.
Lively: Anyway you must be excited tonight to be nominated for...Uhhh...an Oscar?
Jennifer: Yes, It's an honor and I am excited to be here let alone be nominated.
Lively: Alright role reversal time.
Jennifer: What?
Lively: You are an actress right, so role reversal time. A simple concept. Lets see if you can give them a last minute performance to lock up your award.
I hand her the microphone as she looks kind of puzzled by my request.
Lively: You are a journalist, and lets say I'm a top notch superior athlete, a legendary wrestler ready to have a match later on this week. You interview me for my up coming festivities.
Jennifer: Oh, ok cool. Who are you going to be, the Legendary Level One?
Instantly my demeanor changes from fun loving to O.J. Simpson ready to knife a bitch. I cup the microphone and glare at this woman.
Lively: NO...not Level One, lets just use MY name.
Jennifer: I'm sorry what was it again?
Lively: Just hold the microphone while I speak, you will know when to chime in ok, improv with me.
She nods as I cut loose.
Lively: Here we are, in the city of celebrities. A city of power, fame and fortune, what better place for your JESUS Michael Lively to arrive and address the masses for this weeks Overdrive.
The woman snickers a bit as I shift a raised eyebrow her direction.
Jennifer: Sorry is this a comedy magazine you work for, because your delivery is hilarious?
Lively: What do you mean?
Jennifer: It's just funny. Really funny.
Lively: Whattya mean I'm funny?
Tension build as she hesitates to answer me.
Jennifer: You're just funny, y'know. It's funny. You're a funny guy.
Lively: Whattya mean? The way I talk? What?
Jennifer: It's just, y'know, it's just funny, you know the tone and everything ...
Lively: Funny how? I mean, what's funny about it?
Chubs seems nervous and chimes in.
Chubs: Mike, no, you got it all wrong ...
Lively: Whoa, whoa Chubs! She's a big girl, she knows what she said. What'd you say? Funny how? What?
The woman looks awkward and answers.
Jennifer: Just you know you're funny.
Lively: You mean, let me understand this ... cuz ... maybe its me, maybe I'm a little fucked up maybe. I'm funny how, I mean funny, like I'm a clown? I amuse you. I make you laugh? I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? Whattya you mean funny? Funny how? How am I funny?
Jennifer: I don't know just ... you know.
Lively: No, no I don't know. You said it. How do I know? You said I'm funny.
I start screaming at the top of my lungs as this woman begins to tremble with fear.
Lively: How the fuck am I funny? What the fuck is so funny about me? Tell me. Tell me what's funny?
Silence fills the air as she carefully holds the microphone still. I crack a smile as the crowd around me breaks out in applause. I lean carefully into the mic.
Lively: That was Goodfellas darling, relax, I was acting, something tells me you were a little nervous?
She smiles and nods her head.
Lively: Well, come Thursday night my opponent should feel the nerves you just experienced. Buckson Gooch should be ready to experience the full blown wrath of Wrestling's savior.
Unsure if I am still acting or just out of my mind Jennifer Lawrence thanks me and tries to hand back the microphone. I don't break and keep talking my trash.
Lively: Gooch what is this? Last I heard you were part of a subpar tag team. What happened did Bane catch you fucking his Goats again? Did he finally get tired of you raping his chickens?
At this point Jennifer just sets the microphone on the ground and walks away. I mumble out some more generic trash to ruffle the feathers of my opponent but I'm not sure if the mic really picked up any of it. So I pause, realizing that fact and pick up the microphone. I turn back toward the carpet waiting for the next celeb to waltz my direction. I see a couple that many of the media seems enthralled with.
Lively: Chubs...who's that?
Chubs: George Clooney and his girl Stacy Kiebler.
Lively: Wow I didn't recognize him with that beard.
With that I go to work trying to hail the couple my direction.
Lively: George...George!! You were the man on General Hospital!!!
I turn toward Chubs who chuckles.
Lively: I love that show don't fucking laugh!!
I then smile toward the camera because it worked and George Clooney walks over.
Lively: George, I'm Michael Lively with APW magazine, big fan. I got to ask what's up with the beard? You get a role in Broke Back Mountain Two, the Return of Jack Nasty?
George smirks a little, then cracks a response.
George: No your mom thought I looked good with a beard so decided since we spend so many nights together I would satisfy her in just more ways then one!!
Clearly he doesn't know my mother. I know her trashy ass and this statement he just made could almost be truth. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, feeling this is going down hill fast I jump right into promo mode by handing Stacy Kiebler the microphone. I turn toward the camera and start to spit.
Lively: Buckson Gooch, the Southern Belle of APW. The company may want to push you and promote you as a talent. I know that the world sees you like I do. A pig propped up for show. They put lipstick on you, dressed you in a pretty gown, and have decided to shine a bright light on what they hope could be their next big thing. I hate to inform you Miss Piggy, but when I strip you down in front of thousands on Thursday night you will be exposed as nothing more then hot dog meat and a cheap breakfast side. No matter what you try, you can't make steak from Pig meat. The same rings true with wrestling, you can't make a main eventer out of a mid card mediocre Texan. So when I decide to play Truth or Dare on the next episode of Overdrive I will choose truth by exposing your...
George grabs the microphone and interrupts me mid sentence.
George: What are you doing? We thought you wanted to talk to us about tonight. I thought you wanted to discuss Stacy's dress, my career?
I snatch the microphone from him.
Lively: You self centered piece of fucking trash. You want me to talk about her dress...it would look better on my bedroom floor, how about that. Her makeup would look better if she was crying with mascara running down her cheeks while she does my dishes naked!!!
George: You son of a bitch, you watch your mouth!!
Lively: Lets talk about your career, the best thing for it is if you check your tone. I will knock the beard clean off your face. You wont get hired anywhere when I shove you on the ground and force feed you my ball sack right here on the red carpet in front of everyone...So maybe you should move along!!
We exchange an awkward stare briefly before he grabs Stacy's hand to walk away. I blow the woman a kiss while I massaging my crotch sending them off in style. I turn back toward the camera shrugging my shoulders. Chubs points toward the carpet area.
Chubs: Oh damn it's Adelle!
I can't help but wonder so I spin around looking for a hot actress. None seem to be in sight so I look back toward Chubs who still seems rather excited.
Chubs: She'a a singer Mike...the best singer!
Still lost I simply turn around blurting out the name Adelle until some one responds. This approach isn't working, so I have to dive into my bag of tricks. No matter how much it pains me to do it, we are immersed among celebrities...
Lively: Adelle, Adelle Level One told me to find you!!!
Wouldn't you know, it worked. Over my way waddled a plump women simply because I mentioned the name of Level One. I knew mentioning Lester's name would do the trick, there is no other person on this planet that prostitutes themselves for celebrities more then that cheap prick. I am surprised because like my fat camera man Level One also seems be a Sir Mix A Lot fan, liking the big and round!! With this double chinned singer standing in my presence I can't muster the strength to play nice. One she is of course a "she", second, she could probably eat my opponent on Overdrive's weight in Texas Barbecue. So...it is what it is!!
Lively: S'up chunky, how you living tonight? No need to answer we can see you live large.
Adelle: I have never...
Lively: From the size of your stomach I would say you haven't, unless of course you first lift that fat pouch up but then it would still seem difficult for a guy to cram that juice box of yours.
Her face frowns with disgust.
Lively: Hold up I can't tell if you are happy or mad? Your face is frowning but the thing above your second chin looks like a smile! So fat gurl, come here...are you ticklish?
I almost drop the microphone as I break out in laughter. My salute to Digital Underground and the Humpty Dance went unappreciated. The look on her face is priceless though. At an event where all these assholes show up to get their taints tickled by a bunch of jerk off's with microphones, this woman can't believe I won't tickle her Gooch. Instead I, Michael Lively have brought her back to reality. The reality that she could stand to lose a few pounds, a reality where she should do the dishes without scarfing down the leftovers. The truth hurts and that's what I offer up.
Lively: So Pauly Packs Pounds what brings you here tonight?
I tilt the microphone her direction expecting an answer. What happens next, well lets just say it was well deserved.
Adelle: You are an asshole!!!
"SLAP"
My face jerks to the side from her violent act of aggression. The crowd around stops in their tracks looking our direction. I straighten my head as you could here the lump in Chubs throat when he gulped in fear for what happens next. I smile at this hefty heifer then launch at her with my hands grabbing her throat in full rape choke status. I rode this bitch to the ground like a dirt bike. For a modern day fatty she has skills because she wasted no time and hip sweeped me in defense of my attack.
I release my grip shooting out the back door and what a mess it was back there might I add. I swear I slid past her and came out covered in cottage cheese. I jockey to my feet fast and stun her with a jab to the throat. With my natural instincts taking charge I snap my legs sideways, spring the hips, and whip a super kick right in her English mush. A sickening crack rings out as this mountain of a singer hits the ground breathing heavy and unconscious. I quickly adjust my suit and look toward the mob of people staring my direction. I hold my hands up as if asking the people to hear me out.
Lively: Calm down, we are just acting. It's a Pre show the Oscars have put together for you people. Something to spice up the red carpet a bit, because let's face it this shit is boring.
The crowd seems unsure, and I'm not convinced they are buying my story.
Lively: Ladies and Gentleman...give it up for Adelle...
I start clapping and like trained monkeys everyone follows along giving her a huge round of applause. While these zombies are distracted I take this opportunity to grab Chubs and hi tale it out of there. We catch a cab back to the airport, because I can only imagine it would be in my best interest to leave Hollywood as fast as possible. I can't help but think I didn't get to cover everything in my promo that I wished, so before stepping on board the jet I use it as a back drop to finish up my words for Buckson Gooch.
Lively: Gooch, I deal in truths. Since that's the case let me be completely honest with you. You are talented, you are tough, and you pose a number of threats to many competitors, even myself if I am not careful. The truth is...you are middle of the road nothing more. Just like A.C. Smith, you have achieved the height of your success, and it's my duty to be the one on the rung of the ladder to let you know you can go no higher. It seems you have taken interest in Smith as of late, better yet, you have your big dopey ass Texas sized peepers focused on the Xtreme title. They say everything is bigger in Texas. Liking big things you have chosen the biggest company to stake your claim to fame, APW. Wise choice! You have also somewhere deep in your heart decided to except your place in the largest classification in wrestling, the mid card and why you aspire for this belt. Well that too was wise because it's where you belong. It's a big lake for your plus sized body to wade around. Also this week you go one on one with the biggest name in APW. If you were a thinking man, you will simply take this loss and redirect your focus. I will not have you inserting yourself in my business. Smith and I have issues to resolve and some corn fed inbred slob like yourself can't just waddle off the farm and interject yourself where it doesn't belong. So any idea you have of tangling with Smith, I will be glad to remove it. Any dream of getting your hands on that Xtreme title, I will gladly piss on the flames that fuel those thoughts as well. Overdrive it's me and you, no partners, no distractions. You get to tangle with a Hall of Famer, and sadly it's probably as close you will come to the Hall of Fame. Soak it in, Big boy! I'm also a former world champion so get a wiff of that too if you feel the need. I can be that taste, the window into a realm you will never venture toward. I can come and go as I please up and down this ladder of success. Right now here I am in the mid card on a mission. That mission involves A.C. Smith. Since putting people in their place, breaking the harsh reality that this is far as some men will go in their career is implanted in my mindset I guess testing out my delivery of that news on your sorry ass will be a good warm up for me. Buckson Gooch, I hope you say a Texas sized prayer that I will show you an ounce of mercy on Thursday night. If you do I can promise you as the JESUS, I welcome that prayer with my arms out stretched...
I throw my arms aside in the I Am JESUS pose.
Lively: and my dick out in the open, ready to piss on your hopes and dreams. Cause I hate to inform you I am in no mood to fill requests, or answer prayers...Michael Lively is only interested in shitting on those of you below my rung, so you can know your place and the smell you give off will inform others that you met the gate keeper otherwise known as the Hottest Shit Going!!!
I break my pose and glare at the camera before shaking my head in disgust and boarding the plane.
