One's Guide: How to be a FUCK up like YOU
Jul 17, 2013 22:57:08 GMT -4
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Post by Level-Two on Jul 17, 2013 22:57:08 GMT -4
One's Guide:
How to be a FUCK up like YOU!
It's already been several days since anyone has last heard from him.
For the most part, he's been locked away behind the walls of his multi-million dollar fortress. As big as this venue of his may be, sadly it only served to provide him with enough room to lose himself. As he lay on the couch in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, a white t shirt in which he wore his cheeto stains on his sleeves - it provided him with quite the contrast to what he had envisioned for his future just a mere week ago...
Thanks for fucking up his fate.
Although he was ready to give up, there were other people in his life who wouldn't allow him too. It didn't explicitly mean they cared about him, certainly not any more than for the empire he built by his worn hand which would surely result in the starvation of many in the event he should clench his fist in the spirit of retaliation.
Captivated by the blue light of meaningless entertainment and pageantry, his television induced trance is interrupted long enough to acknowledge the intrusion of his penthouse home. He responded with nothing more than a groan out of regret, as he had realized he had been careless with whom he had entrusted with the key.
Violet hissed upon walking onto the scene with her sister trailing not far behind. ''Whew. This place smells like a Puerto Rican shower!''
Lester looked at her with contempt while her sister quickly came to her defense. ''Well, at least she's not harping on the Jews...''
''What are you two doing here?'' Lester asked, seemingly annoyed. ''If a guy wants to peacefully wallow in a pile of his own shit, let him. I think I've earned that right...''
Kia worked her way around the sofa to a seat beside him. ''Yes and equally, we reserve the right to grab you by the ears to lift you out of that said pile of shit.''
''I appreciate the hospitality, really, I do but I am not sure I have anything more to give. I'm still young, I'm famous and I'm rich and it's not too late to change careers and do something else with my life.''
''Like what?'' Violet asked agitated. ''You better plan on becoming the President of the United States or something because outside of that it doesn't get any bigger than what you have going on right now. I know your loss to Terry Marvin hurts but you need to move on, Lester. For you, for them, for us... for the Synndicate.''
''Where is Kaylyn?''
Kia raised an eyebrow. ''You really think we were going to bring her along so she could see you like this? Lester, she gave up a whole lot of time and went through a whole lot of shit just to make that match with Terry Marvin possible and the outcome doesn't change that. You owe her better than this.''
''Alright, I get it - okay!?'' Lester exclaimed in exhaustion. ''Make a call to Alexander Duvall and tell him I accept the match.''
Violet gave the green light to her sister with a nod of the head, resulting in Kia retrieving her I-phone to make the call. ''Alright then, let's get up and prepare...''
''No need too.'' Lester said dismissively. ''It's against some new guy, Johnson Joseph or something...''
''You really haven’t taken this entire proving yourself overboard, haven't you?'' Violet acknowledged. ''Whatever, as long as your competing and you still have your APW World Championship we're happy...''
''Yeah, about that...'' Lester started as he watched the George Zimmerman trail prepare to reach its final verdict. ''Remember when I left the title in the middle of the ring on Thursday?''
''Yes?'' Violet sarcastically replied in kind. ''It was before you tried to sell the APW world championship on Ebay...''
''Don't forget about him trying to switch out his title with Kaylyn's before Sunday Night Asylum, that would have made for one hell of an interesting title defense.'' Kia noted, in between her text session.
''Well, I've sort of... you know... lost it, again?''
The LeWinter sisters roll their eyes. Kia recoiled in disgust while Violet put her head in her hands fearing the worst.
''Whether you think that title is nothing more than a symbol of your success or not, you need to start treating the APW's property with a bit more respect. Do you know how many teeth Jason Kash would lose just to get his hands on that again, someday?'' Violet asked.
''I don't know, how many does he still have left?'' He replied in question, applying the burn.
''Okay, what about CJ Gates then? You know damn well that he can't wait get his paws on something and right now you’re giving him all the motivation and ammunition he needs.'' Violet retorted.
''Fair point.'' Lester acknowledged as he sat up. ''Though, I promise you - I want to see the title back in my hands as much as you two do. In fact, I've been trying to bond with it all week.''
''How so?'' Kia inquired.
''Well, yesterday I used the plate of my title to eat my dinner on and it made for one hell of a place mat.''
''Lester, where the hell is the title?'' Violet asked, obviously feeling agitated.
''It's at the hospital.''
''Then why haven't you went there and got it back yourself?'' Kia asked, annoyed.
''Sick kids, hospital.'' Lester was quick to add emphasis on the details he conveniently left out this first time around. ''As you could imagine, I just couldn't run up in there like a bad ass Rambo without looking like the biggest asshole in the entire world. That'd just make me sad.''
''Lester, you ARE the biggest asshole in the entire world!'' Violet reminded him, as the trio all hung their heads in silence and shame. The only thing that could be heard was the television still playing in the background...
We, the jury find the defendant... NOT guilty.
Later that day, the Synndicate had arrived at the sick kids hospital. The doctor had led the special guests to a young teen’s room. He was no older than sixteen, he was thin, pale and as fragile as the ornaments you hang on your Christmas tree; however for him, he wouldn't live long enough to see it this year.
''This going to be the worst PR session, ever.'' Violet complained while standing outside the young boys room looking in.
''Look, it’s all just one big misunderstanding. I thought he was just going to take a few pictures with it and pretend.'' Lester stressed.
''Do you not know what the word donation means?'' Kia asked, rolling her eyes.
''Excuse me, Miss Humanitarian! Sorry, I never made a donation before and this was a first! I didn't know you could actually keep donations, I thought it was just a fancy way of saying, can I borrow some money? I'll pay you back later. Because let's be real, what kind of person would actually want to give away something for free for nothing in return? I just don't get it.''
Violet closed her eyes and shook her head. ''Look, we just got to figure out away to peacefully retrieve our title without causing a fuss. You can't go in there and beat up a kid with cancer.''
''What if we just rip the cord out of the wall?'' Lester asked. ''That'll do it.''
''Can we please get serious?'' Violet asked, crossing her arms.
''Alright, sorry.'' Lester said laughing to himself. ''Rather than mentally preparing for my match against Joseph Johnson, I spent time thinking up a brilliant plan consisting out our secret weapon...''
That's when Kaylyn James Evans pops out from around the corner.
''...Kaylyn! See, the one thing in the world that can come between a man and a 12 pound slab of gold is a woman! Well, unless you’re like me and just have a threesome instead...''
Level-One winks at Kaylyn before he opens up the door and enters the hospital room. He creeps along slowly to the eerily pace of the boys heart beat machine. Upon reaching the bed, he finds the kid clutching the title against his heart. He couldn't help but stop and snap a mental picture.
Maybe this kid could have been the champion he always wanted to be.
Still, the realization doesn't stop him from hustling the title from the kid’s grasp as he slept and sneaking back out the room with the title in his possession. Upon exiting the room, he was met by a little bit more resistance.
''Okay, now please inform us as to how Kaylyn plays a role in all this, again?'' Kia asked.
''Kaylyn...'' Lester said, as he spun around to face her. ''You are going to sit by his bed and comfort the poor child who lost his APW world championship whenever he wakes up... assuming he does.''
''Did you really have to add that last part in there, Lester?'' Kaylyn said, shaking her head side to side.
''For effect, yes.'' He quickly countered. ''Listen, I'm sure you'll do just fine. I mean after all you’re a women, family oriented I'd imagine and one day you and Jason Kash will get married and have kids of your...''
''Stop while you’re ahead, Lester.'' Kaylyn stated firmly. ''You should note that I am also an APW suicidal champion...''
''Yes you are!'' Lester said proudly. ''So go in there and tell him a story, make up one up if you have to... preferably, make it about me.''
''You owe me for this...'' Kaylyn said as she brushed past Lester Only and towards the room entrance before he reached out and grabbed her by the arm.
''Wait, one more thing!'' Lester said, tugging on the buttons of her blouse exposing a part of her chest. ''If this is going to work, this kid is going to need to see some cleavage!''
''Fuck off, Lester.'' Kaylyn said laughing, before pulling herself away from him and entering the hospital room. He smirked, propping his title up on his shoulder as Violet and Kia LeWinter stood before him with their arms crossed.
''You like her, don't you?'' Violet charged.
''Is that meant to be a simple yes or no, answer?'' Lester retorted dismissively. ''As you ladies have come to know, I am a very complex person.''
First off let's address one thing; Joseph Johnson isn't fucking worth the shit on my shoe - never mind the effort it took for a filthy K-9 to squeeze out this living piece of ungodly excrement upon my property. I, like a responsible citizen I am has taken it upon oneself to clean up the mess that has been made in the name of the APW's environment. Thus, each and every one of you can now comprehend how a complete nobody, Johnny do nothing has found himself in a match with the APW world champion by doing a fruity little dance and by clicking his sparkly little toes.
Now that we have promptly established how this match has come to be it's time to learn a little bit about Joseph Johnson as I understand a week ago, we all had the pleasure of not knowing this moron was breathing our air. Today, I will teach each and every one of you how to be a FUCK UP like Joseph Johnson! If you want to go NOWHERE in life, please... grab a pencil and take notes!
First, it's important you LOSE your debut match.
Cause let's be real folks - nothing impresses your boss more than fucking up on the job the first night you've been employed! Nothing screams ''FUTURE WORLD CHAMPION'' than failing to scratch the bottom of a barrel as if it was a lottery ticket! FYI fuckface, obviously somebody forgot to tell you that FIRST impressions mean EVERYTHING! The only thing you proved last Thursday Night is that Meltdown should have never shut its doors in the name of keeping untalented hacks like you from stealing my potential camera time.
It would be one thing if your debut match was worth someone worth a shit but you were in a match with a bunch of other bottom feeders trying to make a name for themselves, as well. Perhaps, if you spent more time actually wrestling like they did and less time running your mouth, you would've been backed by better results. Oh, but no. In the age of twitter wars and personal requests, I'm sure you feel no obligation to actually have to put any work in to get where you want to be. It may have worked in the last two bit promotion you loitered in long enough to feel halfway important but that shit isn't going to fly here, not over my dead body it won't.
Your debut was pathetic. Not only did you lose but you weren't even close to winning. I have seen Mr. Dangerous perform better than you WHILE he's being squashed like the overweight fly he is. You literally have JACK shit to offer me and the only reason I ACCEPTED this match is because I DESERVE to be punished for my loss at Test for the Best. I DESERVE to be INSULTED by having to wrestle the likes of you and by the end of it, I will be embarrassed for both you and the APW for allowing such a one sided atrocity to occur on their watch.
If you really want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson after you've lost your debut match up... you need to proceed to call out the APW world champion to a wrestling match.
Wow, Joseph! I am REALLY impressed by your desire to rack up a series of consecutive losses- maybe when you’re done losing to little ol' me you can then go on to challenge Terry Marvin to a match and then only after losing to him you can beg our respective general managers to put you into several 3 on 1 handicap matches to prove your ilk! Shit, maybe we just do away with the ring entirely, turn this son of bitch into a coliseum and have you fight a few lions while you're at it tough guy!
Seriously, who the FUCK is managing your career... Kid Dynamo? At this rate, we may not even see you next week!
You have self-made disaster written all over you! I don't know of one person who stepped foot into this promotion whom has called out a world champion half way through the door who didn't end up being a fucking failure, sitting on the unemployment line as we speak. WHY? Well because that speaks to your mentality, a mentality of a complete fucking LOSER. The same mentality we see every single time out from you new bloods who decide get up on your little pedestals, ranting and raving about the insignificant titles you held once upon a time - which ten out of ten times, NEVER translates to success here and once they realize that they tuck their tails in between their vagina and take a hike.
You and your bullshit callout reminds me of everything I hate about this sport and I am going to teach you a VERY valuable lesson about respect, rank and paid dues. All that talk, all that hype and all those whispers you've been hearing about a guy who wasn't aware you even existed a week ago will prove to be more than just an elaborate myth or an urban legend you've seemingly taken it upon yourself to disprove first hand. Rather, it'll be your NEW reality. Once you experience it, I hope that you'll find it in yourself to share your testimony with your friends before they make the same brash & uninformed decision you made by signing a contract for the sole purpose of getting your shit rocked by moi.
Curiosity didn't kill the cat, I did.
If you want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson it's not enough to just lose your match or call out the APW world champion without paying any dues... you also need to be, well, Joseph Johnson.
I mean, really - Joseph Johnson? That might cut it in the porn industry but around here that name is as generic as generic does. To make matter worse, you walk around here calling yourself the New Age because we all haven't heard that played concept tossed about enough. These so called new eras bitch boys like you have been trying to usher in since 2009 are really nothing new. You aren't going to bring anything revolutionary to the table. You aren't going to do something nobody has ever seen before and you couldn't get into innovation even if you were spelling it. So, fuck off with your generic tag lines and your empty promises.
The world has seen the New Age and it hasn't made APW a better place. Rather metaphorically speaking, it was all nothing more than an elaborate Ponzi scheme that had its perpetrators eating high off the hog until the crash. Right now, we're dealing with the crash and what better time for APW's greatest forefather to step up to the plate and take the APW not to an era of the NEW but back to its fundamentals that made his the greatest promotion on earth.
While you’re busy trying to stick your generic name in main event spots, I am going above and beyond my duties to remind us all that there IS indeed a pecking order around here and it is to be respected. Sure, I could have ignored you and some say I should have but sometimes messages need to be sent in order to be understood.
I am sure you felt like such a tough guy when you were getting loud and calling me out knowing that it was more than likely that you'd get away with it like the cowards have before you have and at worst you'd reap the benefit of extra fanfare and street cred. WRONG! This match goes deeper than what is on the surface and will Thursday Night Overdrive a little more honest and a little more humble.
Ladies and gentlemen if you REALLY want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson it's not enough just lose your debut match, call out the APW world champion and exhibit all signs of being a generic hack - nope! If you want to achieve his feats of failure you'll also need to be a complete and utter FUCK UP outside the ring too!
Apparently, it's extremely edgy to go to rehab and get caught in the mix of useless addictions but then again what am I to expect when a large amount of these so called wrestlers are nothing more the country bumpkins whom beat their wives and only take on wrestling for a career for a fight, fights they usually lose in. Essentially, that's what Joseph Johnson does. He is paid punching bag. He gets paid to show up and get tossed around. The money isn't much, but it should be enough to cover the cost of a six pack and some shitty weed.
This sport is riddled with fucks like you, whom can't even take their careers seriously. You drink, you probably smoke and you think you can actually hang in the ring against actual athletes whom have dedicated a large part of their life to their craft? I have never tasted a lick of liquor in my life nor have I filled my lungs with toxic smoke; my body is a motherfucking temple! This was the first week in YEARS I spent laying down on the couch and I did that because you don't demand of anything more out of me.
And yet you have the GULL to proclaim yourself the mark of excellence? No, you're the mark of a failure - addicted to sex and alcohol instead of being addicted to the craft of wrestling. I don't give two shits if you skipped all the way up the 12 steps to recovery and Dr. Drew can kiss my ass - at the end of the day, the fact that you even fell into that bullshit in the first place speaks VOLUMES about your character or lack thereof. Perhaps if you spent time observing me instead of judging me, you'll see that I am the man you have for so long inspired to be.
Hey, nice to meet you, jackass.
So, you all want to know how to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson, huh? Well, you need to learn what to do once you finally are.
Blame me.
Yes, because it is I who has ruined the APW! It is I, who is at the center of all your misery, all your pain and all your ill-gotten gains! Every time you look in the mirror and you aren't pleased with the atrocity you witness, I am to blame! If only, I wasn't so good. If only, I wasn't APW champion and if only I didn't exist entirely then it would be you who could be that guy...
Well, I'm sorry Joseph Johnson. I am sorry that your so called mark of excellence can only be achieved if the grade A+ just simply ceased to exist. I am sorry that you are nothing more than a child, whom can only express himself through pointless diatribe while being incapable of proceeding with action. I am sure you were the first person to splat a load in your briefs the second you thought I was vacating my title...
As if even if it left my grasps, it would somehow fall into yours...
However, blame me if you must you ignorant child. If you feel blaming me for your failure serves as the pillars you need to hold your delusional world view up and away from the jagged rocks at the bottom where your spirit truly lays, then so be it.
However, it is my job to teach you a lesson. I will teach you that it isn't me who embodies the spirit of everything that is wrong with the APW and the wrestling industry as a whole but rather...
It's you.
Now fuck off and go play elsewhere before you really piss me off.
How to be a FUCK up like YOU!
''Anger, sadness, angst and excitement. Which one shall I wear today?''
It's already been several days since anyone has last heard from him.
For the most part, he's been locked away behind the walls of his multi-million dollar fortress. As big as this venue of his may be, sadly it only served to provide him with enough room to lose himself. As he lay on the couch in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts, a white t shirt in which he wore his cheeto stains on his sleeves - it provided him with quite the contrast to what he had envisioned for his future just a mere week ago...
Thanks for fucking up his fate.
Although he was ready to give up, there were other people in his life who wouldn't allow him too. It didn't explicitly mean they cared about him, certainly not any more than for the empire he built by his worn hand which would surely result in the starvation of many in the event he should clench his fist in the spirit of retaliation.
Captivated by the blue light of meaningless entertainment and pageantry, his television induced trance is interrupted long enough to acknowledge the intrusion of his penthouse home. He responded with nothing more than a groan out of regret, as he had realized he had been careless with whom he had entrusted with the key.
Violet hissed upon walking onto the scene with her sister trailing not far behind. ''Whew. This place smells like a Puerto Rican shower!''
Lester looked at her with contempt while her sister quickly came to her defense. ''Well, at least she's not harping on the Jews...''
''What are you two doing here?'' Lester asked, seemingly annoyed. ''If a guy wants to peacefully wallow in a pile of his own shit, let him. I think I've earned that right...''
Kia worked her way around the sofa to a seat beside him. ''Yes and equally, we reserve the right to grab you by the ears to lift you out of that said pile of shit.''
''I appreciate the hospitality, really, I do but I am not sure I have anything more to give. I'm still young, I'm famous and I'm rich and it's not too late to change careers and do something else with my life.''
''Like what?'' Violet asked agitated. ''You better plan on becoming the President of the United States or something because outside of that it doesn't get any bigger than what you have going on right now. I know your loss to Terry Marvin hurts but you need to move on, Lester. For you, for them, for us... for the Synndicate.''
''Where is Kaylyn?''
Kia raised an eyebrow. ''You really think we were going to bring her along so she could see you like this? Lester, she gave up a whole lot of time and went through a whole lot of shit just to make that match with Terry Marvin possible and the outcome doesn't change that. You owe her better than this.''
''Alright, I get it - okay!?'' Lester exclaimed in exhaustion. ''Make a call to Alexander Duvall and tell him I accept the match.''
Violet gave the green light to her sister with a nod of the head, resulting in Kia retrieving her I-phone to make the call. ''Alright then, let's get up and prepare...''
''No need too.'' Lester said dismissively. ''It's against some new guy, Johnson Joseph or something...''
''You really haven’t taken this entire proving yourself overboard, haven't you?'' Violet acknowledged. ''Whatever, as long as your competing and you still have your APW World Championship we're happy...''
''Yeah, about that...'' Lester started as he watched the George Zimmerman trail prepare to reach its final verdict. ''Remember when I left the title in the middle of the ring on Thursday?''
''Yes?'' Violet sarcastically replied in kind. ''It was before you tried to sell the APW world championship on Ebay...''
''Don't forget about him trying to switch out his title with Kaylyn's before Sunday Night Asylum, that would have made for one hell of an interesting title defense.'' Kia noted, in between her text session.
''Well, I've sort of... you know... lost it, again?''
The LeWinter sisters roll their eyes. Kia recoiled in disgust while Violet put her head in her hands fearing the worst.
''Whether you think that title is nothing more than a symbol of your success or not, you need to start treating the APW's property with a bit more respect. Do you know how many teeth Jason Kash would lose just to get his hands on that again, someday?'' Violet asked.
''I don't know, how many does he still have left?'' He replied in question, applying the burn.
''Okay, what about CJ Gates then? You know damn well that he can't wait get his paws on something and right now you’re giving him all the motivation and ammunition he needs.'' Violet retorted.
''Fair point.'' Lester acknowledged as he sat up. ''Though, I promise you - I want to see the title back in my hands as much as you two do. In fact, I've been trying to bond with it all week.''
''How so?'' Kia inquired.
''Well, yesterday I used the plate of my title to eat my dinner on and it made for one hell of a place mat.''
''Lester, where the hell is the title?'' Violet asked, obviously feeling agitated.
''It's at the hospital.''
''Then why haven't you went there and got it back yourself?'' Kia asked, annoyed.
''Sick kids, hospital.'' Lester was quick to add emphasis on the details he conveniently left out this first time around. ''As you could imagine, I just couldn't run up in there like a bad ass Rambo without looking like the biggest asshole in the entire world. That'd just make me sad.''
''Lester, you ARE the biggest asshole in the entire world!'' Violet reminded him, as the trio all hung their heads in silence and shame. The only thing that could be heard was the television still playing in the background...
We, the jury find the defendant... NOT guilty.
Later that day, the Synndicate had arrived at the sick kids hospital. The doctor had led the special guests to a young teen’s room. He was no older than sixteen, he was thin, pale and as fragile as the ornaments you hang on your Christmas tree; however for him, he wouldn't live long enough to see it this year.
''This going to be the worst PR session, ever.'' Violet complained while standing outside the young boys room looking in.
''Look, it’s all just one big misunderstanding. I thought he was just going to take a few pictures with it and pretend.'' Lester stressed.
''Do you not know what the word donation means?'' Kia asked, rolling her eyes.
''Excuse me, Miss Humanitarian! Sorry, I never made a donation before and this was a first! I didn't know you could actually keep donations, I thought it was just a fancy way of saying, can I borrow some money? I'll pay you back later. Because let's be real, what kind of person would actually want to give away something for free for nothing in return? I just don't get it.''
Violet closed her eyes and shook her head. ''Look, we just got to figure out away to peacefully retrieve our title without causing a fuss. You can't go in there and beat up a kid with cancer.''
''What if we just rip the cord out of the wall?'' Lester asked. ''That'll do it.''
''Can we please get serious?'' Violet asked, crossing her arms.
''Alright, sorry.'' Lester said laughing to himself. ''Rather than mentally preparing for my match against Joseph Johnson, I spent time thinking up a brilliant plan consisting out our secret weapon...''
That's when Kaylyn James Evans pops out from around the corner.
''...Kaylyn! See, the one thing in the world that can come between a man and a 12 pound slab of gold is a woman! Well, unless you’re like me and just have a threesome instead...''
Level-One winks at Kaylyn before he opens up the door and enters the hospital room. He creeps along slowly to the eerily pace of the boys heart beat machine. Upon reaching the bed, he finds the kid clutching the title against his heart. He couldn't help but stop and snap a mental picture.
Maybe this kid could have been the champion he always wanted to be.
Still, the realization doesn't stop him from hustling the title from the kid’s grasp as he slept and sneaking back out the room with the title in his possession. Upon exiting the room, he was met by a little bit more resistance.
''Okay, now please inform us as to how Kaylyn plays a role in all this, again?'' Kia asked.
''Kaylyn...'' Lester said, as he spun around to face her. ''You are going to sit by his bed and comfort the poor child who lost his APW world championship whenever he wakes up... assuming he does.''
''Did you really have to add that last part in there, Lester?'' Kaylyn said, shaking her head side to side.
''For effect, yes.'' He quickly countered. ''Listen, I'm sure you'll do just fine. I mean after all you’re a women, family oriented I'd imagine and one day you and Jason Kash will get married and have kids of your...''
''Stop while you’re ahead, Lester.'' Kaylyn stated firmly. ''You should note that I am also an APW suicidal champion...''
''Yes you are!'' Lester said proudly. ''So go in there and tell him a story, make up one up if you have to... preferably, make it about me.''
''You owe me for this...'' Kaylyn said as she brushed past Lester Only and towards the room entrance before he reached out and grabbed her by the arm.
''Wait, one more thing!'' Lester said, tugging on the buttons of her blouse exposing a part of her chest. ''If this is going to work, this kid is going to need to see some cleavage!''
''Fuck off, Lester.'' Kaylyn said laughing, before pulling herself away from him and entering the hospital room. He smirked, propping his title up on his shoulder as Violet and Kia LeWinter stood before him with their arms crossed.
''You like her, don't you?'' Violet charged.
''Is that meant to be a simple yes or no, answer?'' Lester retorted dismissively. ''As you ladies have come to know, I am a very complex person.''
Meanwhile...
In his office, President Jeff receives a phone call at his APW headquarters in Toronto, Ontario. Unavailable, the mysterious caller is forced to leave a message on his answering machine.
''Hello, President Jeff. Earlier today, we completed the medical reports you inquired about regarding one of your employees of Action Packed Wrestling, Lester Only. While I cannot indulge in specifics over the phone, I have emailed you these reports this afternoon. We urge you to take a look at them as it may compromise the safety of both you and your roster. Please contact me as I can arrange the appropriate measures to help Mr. Only through what is quite possibly a severe psychological disorder.
Thank you.''
In his office, President Jeff receives a phone call at his APW headquarters in Toronto, Ontario. Unavailable, the mysterious caller is forced to leave a message on his answering machine.
''Hello, President Jeff. Earlier today, we completed the medical reports you inquired about regarding one of your employees of Action Packed Wrestling, Lester Only. While I cannot indulge in specifics over the phone, I have emailed you these reports this afternoon. We urge you to take a look at them as it may compromise the safety of both you and your roster. Please contact me as I can arrange the appropriate measures to help Mr. Only through what is quite possibly a severe psychological disorder.
Thank you.''
First off let's address one thing; Joseph Johnson isn't fucking worth the shit on my shoe - never mind the effort it took for a filthy K-9 to squeeze out this living piece of ungodly excrement upon my property. I, like a responsible citizen I am has taken it upon oneself to clean up the mess that has been made in the name of the APW's environment. Thus, each and every one of you can now comprehend how a complete nobody, Johnny do nothing has found himself in a match with the APW world champion by doing a fruity little dance and by clicking his sparkly little toes.
Now that we have promptly established how this match has come to be it's time to learn a little bit about Joseph Johnson as I understand a week ago, we all had the pleasure of not knowing this moron was breathing our air. Today, I will teach each and every one of you how to be a FUCK UP like Joseph Johnson! If you want to go NOWHERE in life, please... grab a pencil and take notes!
First, it's important you LOSE your debut match.
Cause let's be real folks - nothing impresses your boss more than fucking up on the job the first night you've been employed! Nothing screams ''FUTURE WORLD CHAMPION'' than failing to scratch the bottom of a barrel as if it was a lottery ticket! FYI fuckface, obviously somebody forgot to tell you that FIRST impressions mean EVERYTHING! The only thing you proved last Thursday Night is that Meltdown should have never shut its doors in the name of keeping untalented hacks like you from stealing my potential camera time.
It would be one thing if your debut match was worth someone worth a shit but you were in a match with a bunch of other bottom feeders trying to make a name for themselves, as well. Perhaps, if you spent more time actually wrestling like they did and less time running your mouth, you would've been backed by better results. Oh, but no. In the age of twitter wars and personal requests, I'm sure you feel no obligation to actually have to put any work in to get where you want to be. It may have worked in the last two bit promotion you loitered in long enough to feel halfway important but that shit isn't going to fly here, not over my dead body it won't.
Your debut was pathetic. Not only did you lose but you weren't even close to winning. I have seen Mr. Dangerous perform better than you WHILE he's being squashed like the overweight fly he is. You literally have JACK shit to offer me and the only reason I ACCEPTED this match is because I DESERVE to be punished for my loss at Test for the Best. I DESERVE to be INSULTED by having to wrestle the likes of you and by the end of it, I will be embarrassed for both you and the APW for allowing such a one sided atrocity to occur on their watch.
If you really want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson after you've lost your debut match up... you need to proceed to call out the APW world champion to a wrestling match.
Wow, Joseph! I am REALLY impressed by your desire to rack up a series of consecutive losses- maybe when you’re done losing to little ol' me you can then go on to challenge Terry Marvin to a match and then only after losing to him you can beg our respective general managers to put you into several 3 on 1 handicap matches to prove your ilk! Shit, maybe we just do away with the ring entirely, turn this son of bitch into a coliseum and have you fight a few lions while you're at it tough guy!
Seriously, who the FUCK is managing your career... Kid Dynamo? At this rate, we may not even see you next week!
You have self-made disaster written all over you! I don't know of one person who stepped foot into this promotion whom has called out a world champion half way through the door who didn't end up being a fucking failure, sitting on the unemployment line as we speak. WHY? Well because that speaks to your mentality, a mentality of a complete fucking LOSER. The same mentality we see every single time out from you new bloods who decide get up on your little pedestals, ranting and raving about the insignificant titles you held once upon a time - which ten out of ten times, NEVER translates to success here and once they realize that they tuck their tails in between their vagina and take a hike.
You and your bullshit callout reminds me of everything I hate about this sport and I am going to teach you a VERY valuable lesson about respect, rank and paid dues. All that talk, all that hype and all those whispers you've been hearing about a guy who wasn't aware you even existed a week ago will prove to be more than just an elaborate myth or an urban legend you've seemingly taken it upon yourself to disprove first hand. Rather, it'll be your NEW reality. Once you experience it, I hope that you'll find it in yourself to share your testimony with your friends before they make the same brash & uninformed decision you made by signing a contract for the sole purpose of getting your shit rocked by moi.
Curiosity didn't kill the cat, I did.
If you want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson it's not enough to just lose your match or call out the APW world champion without paying any dues... you also need to be, well, Joseph Johnson.
I mean, really - Joseph Johnson? That might cut it in the porn industry but around here that name is as generic as generic does. To make matter worse, you walk around here calling yourself the New Age because we all haven't heard that played concept tossed about enough. These so called new eras bitch boys like you have been trying to usher in since 2009 are really nothing new. You aren't going to bring anything revolutionary to the table. You aren't going to do something nobody has ever seen before and you couldn't get into innovation even if you were spelling it. So, fuck off with your generic tag lines and your empty promises.
The world has seen the New Age and it hasn't made APW a better place. Rather metaphorically speaking, it was all nothing more than an elaborate Ponzi scheme that had its perpetrators eating high off the hog until the crash. Right now, we're dealing with the crash and what better time for APW's greatest forefather to step up to the plate and take the APW not to an era of the NEW but back to its fundamentals that made his the greatest promotion on earth.
While you’re busy trying to stick your generic name in main event spots, I am going above and beyond my duties to remind us all that there IS indeed a pecking order around here and it is to be respected. Sure, I could have ignored you and some say I should have but sometimes messages need to be sent in order to be understood.
I am sure you felt like such a tough guy when you were getting loud and calling me out knowing that it was more than likely that you'd get away with it like the cowards have before you have and at worst you'd reap the benefit of extra fanfare and street cred. WRONG! This match goes deeper than what is on the surface and will Thursday Night Overdrive a little more honest and a little more humble.
Ladies and gentlemen if you REALLY want to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson it's not enough just lose your debut match, call out the APW world champion and exhibit all signs of being a generic hack - nope! If you want to achieve his feats of failure you'll also need to be a complete and utter FUCK UP outside the ring too!
Apparently, it's extremely edgy to go to rehab and get caught in the mix of useless addictions but then again what am I to expect when a large amount of these so called wrestlers are nothing more the country bumpkins whom beat their wives and only take on wrestling for a career for a fight, fights they usually lose in. Essentially, that's what Joseph Johnson does. He is paid punching bag. He gets paid to show up and get tossed around. The money isn't much, but it should be enough to cover the cost of a six pack and some shitty weed.
This sport is riddled with fucks like you, whom can't even take their careers seriously. You drink, you probably smoke and you think you can actually hang in the ring against actual athletes whom have dedicated a large part of their life to their craft? I have never tasted a lick of liquor in my life nor have I filled my lungs with toxic smoke; my body is a motherfucking temple! This was the first week in YEARS I spent laying down on the couch and I did that because you don't demand of anything more out of me.
And yet you have the GULL to proclaim yourself the mark of excellence? No, you're the mark of a failure - addicted to sex and alcohol instead of being addicted to the craft of wrestling. I don't give two shits if you skipped all the way up the 12 steps to recovery and Dr. Drew can kiss my ass - at the end of the day, the fact that you even fell into that bullshit in the first place speaks VOLUMES about your character or lack thereof. Perhaps if you spent time observing me instead of judging me, you'll see that I am the man you have for so long inspired to be.
Hey, nice to meet you, jackass.
So, you all want to know how to be a fuck up like Joseph Johnson, huh? Well, you need to learn what to do once you finally are.
Blame me.
Yes, because it is I who has ruined the APW! It is I, who is at the center of all your misery, all your pain and all your ill-gotten gains! Every time you look in the mirror and you aren't pleased with the atrocity you witness, I am to blame! If only, I wasn't so good. If only, I wasn't APW champion and if only I didn't exist entirely then it would be you who could be that guy...
Well, I'm sorry Joseph Johnson. I am sorry that your so called mark of excellence can only be achieved if the grade A+ just simply ceased to exist. I am sorry that you are nothing more than a child, whom can only express himself through pointless diatribe while being incapable of proceeding with action. I am sure you were the first person to splat a load in your briefs the second you thought I was vacating my title...
As if even if it left my grasps, it would somehow fall into yours...
However, blame me if you must you ignorant child. If you feel blaming me for your failure serves as the pillars you need to hold your delusional world view up and away from the jagged rocks at the bottom where your spirit truly lays, then so be it.
However, it is my job to teach you a lesson. I will teach you that it isn't me who embodies the spirit of everything that is wrong with the APW and the wrestling industry as a whole but rather...
It's you.
Now fuck off and go play elsewhere before you really piss me off.
