Post by Level-Two on Nov 27, 2008 20:55:28 GMT -4
OCC: This was my second roleplay for the Experts held Rival Faction PPV (Team America Vs. Team Canada Vs. Team Britian Vs. Team World) and for those who know about the experts)it's basically a cross brand interfed that holds events of all parties involved. Some of the most top roleplayers in this game show up there. This is my second role play, with two more to go (the first roleplay I may post, it was more of an intro) and I'd figured I'd share it with you all. It's very long, I know. I try to cut it down length freindly around here, but I'm letting loose right here. 
‘’One’s’’ Into the game Pt. 2
The call to duty…
BREAKING NEWS: PROTEST AT EWC HEADQUATERS
Time: Present
The corruption. Can you see it? I can. Behind the closed doors, we know its there… Or at least deep down we do. The sheep’s? They follow, all in the direction of a pay check to keep their mouth shut. They listen to the managements threats, every last one of them and those who are willing to listen no more? They are censored when they try to speak out. We don’t test them. We don’t ask questions. We follow, and they lead. That’s what they want; but no matter what they do…
Tonight; they won’t get it.
I stood at a podium outside the EwC headquarters; a majority of the entire roster was there, standing by wearing their look of outraged faces. Could you blame them? The management treated them like shit. The ratings were replenishing. The men that have been here for years, that built this place from the ground up, now watched helplessly as it crumpled. The world heavyweight title I wore with disappointment, its slight hang to the side showed that I didn’t carry the belt firmly anymore. I too was losing grip. I too was tired of holding on. I too question, if it was time to let go…and walk away.
‘’Tonight we are all here for one thing. And that is to be treated fairly…’’ I started off, barely looking into the crowd of my fellow co-workers. ‘’We have all busted our asses in that ring, we have all fought hard and furious to keep our show, our home, standing tall and proud at the top of the hill. And we now refuse to be ignored…’’
I took a look at the worn faces, some glared at me with anger, some uncertainty, and the odd face looked at me with no emotion. They all questioned their future here, and I didn’t blame them.
‘’For so long we have fought with each-other. The blood. The sweat. The tears, we’ve seen it all. There is faces in this crowd that I have I beaten, that I have cut open, that I have bruised, and yet you still look at me with a shred of respect, no matter how little…’’ I looked into the crowd once more where Crazy Man stood up, not sitting in the white chairs in-front of him, he returned an emotionless look.
‘’…And now instead of fighting each-other. Ripping each-other to shreds, we need to come together. We need to unite…as one’’ I refused to remove my glare off Crazy Man, easily my deepest rival in this sport. But for now, I was willing to move past it. The EwC could not live on with-out it. Crazy Man, simply spit on the ground before turning away from me and walking out. Looking back towards the crowd of familiar faces I continued on…
‘’War, its funny thing…’’
BREAKING NEWS: RIOTS IN THE STREETS, WAR BREAKS OUT!
The corruption. Can you see it? I mean, behind closed doors we know it’s there. Or at least deep down we do. The sheep’s? They follow. They heed the governments warning, they listen to their lies. And those who are willing to listen no more? They are silenced with a bullet. We don’t test them. We don’t ask questions. We follow, and they lead. That’s what they want; and they’ll do anything to get it.
Have you seen a protest? Have you been the protester, or how about the protestee? They march with their signs, which print out their clear demand. The protestee? They wait. They do nothing. For they know if they refuse to listen the protesters voice will run dry. They will realize their words are lost on deaf ears, who can’t hear anything but their own ignorance. This results in someone losing it. Refusing to be ignored. With a Molotov cocktail, with a flame lit in its belly…
The cities are in riots.
The most futile ones are the hungry, the homeless, the jobless. They worked hard, but the people sitting in the big government buildings, dining on the tax-payers dollar, has miss managed their money, thrown it out the window just to see it blow in the wind. And now the people must watch.
Color, age, sex, location…it didn’t matter. They were all suffering. Some worse then ever, but the entire world economy was collapsing all at once. However there cause wasn’t for war. The furthest thing from it. It was against a war. Countries took sides, emotions and words were spilled. The only way to get their country out of the slump wasn’t by electing a better president. No. It was by allowing one other government to fall, so they could take everything they had, and claim it as their own.
The police were released. With their batons, and big shields that protected them from nothing more than a few rocks by angry protesters, they charged. People screamed, people cursed. A man stood at a podium ready to speak watching as the chaos unfolded…
It was war.
~~~
This was crazy. Here I was, in some suburban basement twice as large as a normal one, and 10 times smaller than the one I could’ve very well owned. The craziest part about that? Is that isn’t even crazy compared to why exactly I was in this basement, seated in an uncomfortable chair. The crazy part about the whole thing, is that in this crazy basement, in this crazy chair, I was going to have the crazy part of myself destroyed. Or, so I hoped. This was just too crazy.
What kind of sane man would believe this shit anyways? Michael, in my eyes was a shady man. His demeanor was no more threatening then a gold fish, but he gave off the feeling that something deadly behind his glasses, could be shining in his eyes. But maybe that was just me? All my life growing up, I learnt that nobody helps you out for free. A year in the wrestling business taught me to trust nobody. Adding those two together, it wasn’t much of a surprise I couldn’t trust this mysterious man.
As for this machine? Well, it was supposed to rid the voice in my head. To send the bitch back to the hot hells, in which she emerged. It was never clear to as why she has come to me. And even as she went away, I could feel her looming somewhere. Always pulling on my heart, mind, and soul to do the deeds of which the people sought out as ‘’bad’’ as ‘’evil’’ the justifications to why the crowds booed me in the arenas. That’s what she was, my demon.
Still, I questioned myself on what exactly I was getting myself into. I would be lying to myself, if I didn’t feel much stronger with her around. And even though she pounded my temples to the point of insanity, hate is something I needed to bring with me, especially against people I know nothing about. Other than that however; I had to worry about the machine itself. Was it safe?
I tried this method before. In the Extreme Wrestling Corporation, a fellow superstar by the name of ‘’Dr. Amy Rosen’’ claimed to have had a system that would do the same thing. Rid the bitch. Stepping into Dr. Rosen’s however did nothing but aggravate my situation, providing me with a months worth of hallucination side effects which only made my situation worse. Not only was I talking to a fucking demon in my head, but also house hold furniture. The lamp, the table, and even the couch all in which I had interesting conversations with. Was this more of the same?
I began to grow tired. Michael had excused himself, slipping in behind a small wall to engage in a phone call of some sort.
‘’Hey, Nicole?’’ Michael whispered into the phone, hearing her breath he quickly continued on. ‘’Hey, Nicole. Are you busy right now?’’ Michael asked with slight hope flaring through his vocal chords.
‘’Busy?’’ She sheepishly asked. ‘’Michael Hun, it’s 3 o’ clock in the morning’’ Nicole uttered, before taking a long yawn.
‘’Yeah, I’m so sorry for waking you up’’ Michael said with sincere guilt in his tone, he knew Nicole deserved more than this, but he saw no other option. ‘’But Nicole, trust me when I say this, I have an opportunity of a life time, and I need you here’’ Michael pleaded, taking a peak around the wall, he saw Level-One sitting there mumbling incoherent sentences to himself.
‘’Michael…’’ She sighed. ‘’Alright, what exactly do you need me for?’’ Nicole asked, as Michael clenched his fist together in celebration.
‘’Awesome!’’ Michael exclaimed clinching the telephone to his ear tighter than ever. ‘’I’m at my place right now. I have a guy, a guy who is willing to go through with the testing process…’’
‘’Of what, Michael?’’ She interrupted. ‘’Your video game?’’ Nicole asked in confusion, Michael glanced up in the air, shaking his head sensing a whole world of trouble in which he knew he had to maneuver out of. ‘’Michael…are you there?’’
‘’Yes, Nicole’’ Michael nervously replied. ’'es, the testing process of the video game of course. What I need you to do is evaluate his mental state before he plays this game. You know, just to be safe?’’
‘’And if he’s a no go?’’ She questioned. Michael bit his lip nervously, before shaking his head up and down quickly, unfortunately for Nicole she couldn’t witness him in the act on the other side of the phone.
‘’If he’s a no go, well then he’s a no go’’ Michael lied through his teeth. ‘’It’s not like I can’t find anyone mentally stable to go through with it’’ Michael stated, as Nicole laughed softly on the other end.
‘’Don’t be so sure about that Michael. Your idea, is defiantly one of a kind’’ Nicole stated, as Michael peered his head once again nervously around the corner, there Level-One as seated in his chair, his foot rocking back and forth like a child’s.
‘’So, I’ll see you here then’’ Michael quickly stated, before hanging up the phone. Michael tucked the phone into his pocket, before taking a deep sigh. Turning around the corner, there stood Level-One. Michael’s heart rate picked up. Did he hear anything? What did he want? Michael shaking nervously, looked up to the massive man who cracked a smile.
‘’So, do you have anything to eat? I’m starving like a motherfucker’’ Level-One stated, smacking his stomach a few times.
Michael brought his sleeve across his face, wiping off the beads of sweat that formed on his head, before pointing towards the large stairs.
‘’Right this way, sir’’
~~~
‘’You can’t be kidding me!’’ Michael states in frustration. In-front of him stands Nicole, with her note pad tucked tightly against her chest. Michael runs his hands through his hair. ‘’Is he really that mentally unstable?’’
Nicole nodded her head softly. ‘’Yeah. Michael this man is hearing voices, he’s showing symptoms of Schizophrenia, he isn’t well. Talking to him though, he does seem to want help, even though he didn’t state it to me outright. Michael, put your game aside for a second…this man needs help’’
Michael looked up at Nicole, how could he be mad at her? She didn’t know this, but he loved her. For a quick moment he wanted to tell her, and get it over with, but the situation…there was a situation he had to deal with first. Michael taking a deep sigh nodded his head, seemingly agreeing to what Nicole had to say. ‘’Your right. You as well as I do know this is a famous face, and I thought if he could go along with it, maybe I could catch some good press. But, it’s more than that…’’
Nicole put a hand on Michael shoulder, as she stood in-front of his door. ‘’This will all work out for you, okay? Just stick with it’’ She offered words of encouragement, looking back at her notepad, she ripped off a piece of paper handing it over to Michael. ‘’That’s the phone number to the nearest mental healthcare unit in town. The sooner your friend gets there, the better for both you and him…’’
Michael grabbed the small piece of paper, before looking up at Nicole. ‘’Is he really that dangerous?’’ Michael questioned, as Nicole softly nodded her head.
‘’I talked with him, he’s a nice man with nice intentions. But there is apart of him, he claims he cannot control’’ She stated, as her eyebrows rose up. ‘’I think it’s real sick how these wrestling promotions use this man, for their own violent intentions’’
‘’I did some research, he’s real successful’’ Michael stated, as Nicole simply continued on seemingly ignoring him.
‘’I think if this was ever brought to the courts, the companies in which he wrestled for could be in some serious hot water for exploiting this man like this’’ Nicole stated, as Michael looked up. Nicole looking towards him with helplessness on her face, simply nodded her head in disgust. ‘’It’s just sick how people can exploit other people like this for their own personally game, what kind of human bein does something like that? He's pretty much fighting another man's war...''
Michael was stumped. Lost for words. In shock. How could he respond? He knows better than anyone that when that door shuts, he’ll continue his test—and he’ll continue to move forward with his plans. He felt sick. He was exploiting Level-One, just like Nicole said. And now she expected and answer from him?
‘’Uh…I don’t know. It’s real mean spirited’’ Michael blurted out. Nicole reached over, and grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder.
‘’Well, I got to go now. Maybe, I can get a few hours of sleep’’ She joked, Michael seemed to miss the humor, too busy beating himself up. ‘’Get your friend some help alright?’’ She stated, more of an order than a question. One that Michael could only nod his head too. Nicole slip through the door, as Michael slowly closed it behind him.
He opened up the paper, glancing down at the phone number and street name in which the center existed. Michael thought about it, until he felt sick to his stomach, but even Nicole’s words wasn’t enough to change his mind. This was his chance. So, what if this Level-One guy wasn’t mentally fit to play the game? That’s what made it all the better right? And if everything worked out like it was supposed too, Level-One would surely love the game, and would spread the reviews across the world. The man was famous. How could he pass this up?
He couldn’t. His hands closed, with the paper in between and it crumbled in his hands, into a ball of nothingness, only fit for a recycling bin…and not even that, as he tossed the paper to the side leaving it to slide across the hardwood floor. It was time. He was going through with it.
He had nothing to lose…right?
~~~
As time passed, so did my doubts about this. I mean, it made sense to as why this ‘’Nicole’’ person would want to know about my mental state before going through with this, but maybe I told her too much?
In my cause to get rid of this demon, I have left myself open to the rest of the world. Now they know, I’m damn near defenseless. Now they can kick me, throw sand in my eyes, and get away with it. What if my problems got out to the rest of the world? Surely, Jesse Gunn would cut my match next week, surely he would strip me of my title, before Scorpio had a chance to take it from me. Damn it! What have I done?
Michael came back into the room. I knew he had a talk with Nicole, and this was the moment of truth. Maybe my head was too cluttered to go through with this? Maybe they believed there was no voice in my head to begin with? I mean, it wasn’t that far fetched. Michael however, despite the sweat pouring from his face, creating a puddle underneath his armpit which could be seen through his shirt, he delivered the news.
‘’Well Lev, looks like we are good to go’’ Michael stated, I knew something was bothering him. I took a deep breath, and simply went along with it. Why talk myself out of this now. I waited all this time, sat in this uncomfortable chair for hours, spilled my heart and soul to a lady I met only today. Man she really has fucked me now.
‘’Your crazy for going through with this, you’ll see’’ She uttered softly, in my head. Michael strapped me into the chair, before placing a neck brace around my neck holding me down in the chair tight. Michael taking a deep breath placed the helmet over my head, Michael eyes traveled, as he watched the colors light up. That moment in the conference room, it was coming all back to him at once.
‘’Here goes nothing…’’ Michael uttered under his breath, as he pulled a disk from a small case. He slipped the disk into the slit of the helmet, before tossing the case to the side. From there, Michael watched. Apart of him expecting it to blow up like it did in the conference room, another part of him wishing for success. Praying for it. Viking for it.
ZOOOOOOOOOM
It worked. No sparks. No explosions. Nothing. The game was off and running. Michael watched, as Level-One played the game. What was he experiencing? How was he doing? What if he died?
All questions only Level-One had the answer too.
Welcome to the game.
~~~
Narrative:
We fight for our country. We fight for our people. We fight because this is what we were chosen to do. We will walk onto the battle grounds. And there some of us we shall lay. We will fight with honor, and we will die with it too. No matter the odds against us, no matter the guns pointed in our direction ready to fire, no matter the circumstance, we will not run. We will not hide. We welcome those who remain our enemies, with open arms. This will not be easy for me, you, or them. What we do here today and this day forward, will be written in history books, and practiced by our daughters and sons. Mark our words of promise. Wear your flag proud by your heart. For we will ALWAYS be remembered…
~~~
Fade in. A small boat rocks back and forth violently. The waves in the water nearly capsize the entire boat. Slowly, I open my eyes to planes roaring loudly its wings casting into the sky. Confused, I look around for some answers—but I’m only handed a boat paddle in return. Men all around me are roaring the boat, looking ahead I see where too. A land where opposing enemies wait on rocks stacked up behind the shore, looking to increase there body-count. I turn to a man sitting beside me, hoping to understand what exactly was going on.
‘’Hey, who are you’’ I asked the man slowly turned his head, he was a young kid. He grunted, as he continued to row the boat seemingly not allowing me to bother him. Before I knew it I was grabbed by the collar and hoisted to my feet. I looked down at the name under the mans flag pin, which read. Lt. Gen. Johansson
‘’You!’’ The general shouted, looking down at my own tag. ‘’Lester Only, what the hell do you think your doing?’’
Confused I leaned over looking at my name tag. That’s exactly what it read. Lester Only. Where was I? Who was I? What was I doing here? Before I could answer a plane dived down right above us. Its guns firing bullets in nearly every single direction, Lt. Johansson knocked me to the floor, in attempt to avoid the onslaught by enemy planes.
Bullets ripped through many men’s backs, as they too tried to shield themselves from the bullets. Men coughed up blood, as they fell off the boat in into the waters that surrounded us, we lost about 5 just on that attack alone. There bodies floating helplessly, as I did nothing more than watched. Johansson angrily got to his feet, before slapping me across the face. Grabbing a peddle of a dead man, he shoved it into my chest.
‘’Get to work, you little shit’’ Lt. Johansson grumbled angrily as he stumbled over two dead bodies to advance to the front of the boat. I didn’t stop to ask any questions. I simply rowed the boat, like I was told. All the while, I stated out into the war zone that awaited me. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to find out I was in a war. The more planes that roared over my head more men filled the large bodies of water with their own. And with the more bodies that filled the water, the quicker I rowed the boat, not wanting to become another causality.
~~~
Upon reaching the shore I and the other brigades lined up in a straight line. A man with a rugged face, and a set of grey hair handed out the guns to us one by one, as I watched on by. Before I knew it I too was handed a loaded gun. I cradled it in between my arms, and headed off to where the soldiers gathered. There Lt. Johansson and an American Admiral by the name of Tony Abram shouted orders. Pushing myself in between the large group, I strained my ears to listen.
‘’We will be breaking you up into small units. You stick together, provide cover, and kill as many Germans as possible. I don’t think that’s much to ask’’ Abram stated, as Lt. Johansson returned a sly smile. ‘’You guys, you come with me’’ Abram ordered pointing to the side with the most men, which I was on. The men all followed suite, as did I…but before I knew it, someone tugged on my shoulder.
‘’No, your coming with me’’ Lt. Johansson stated pulling me away from the pack that was heading to battle. Lt. Johansson kept a sharp eye on me as he slowly backed away, before rounding his unit up. Before we knew it, we were off to battle. No time for questions.
~~~
‘’Alright guys listen up!’’ Lt. Johansson shouted out loud. Talking over heavy gunfire, and loud grenades is something he had to do often. I was still getting use to it. ‘’We are going to push up the enemy lines, and take over that guard tower right over there’’ Lt. Johansson pointed to a large white tower with a single man watching the war-zone below. ‘’But we have to move quickly. Admiral Abram, and his men are moving just as quick, and we need to take them over before the German calls for reinforcements’’ Lt. Johansson looked towards his men, before pointing at me. ‘’You, Lester Only. Your going to watch my back at all times, understood?’’
Before I could answer another brigadier stood up, and slipped in-front of me waving his hands in protest. His name was Thomas Kirk. ‘’Sir, with all due respect…I think appointing this Lester Only person in such a valuable position is fucking absurd’’Thomas Kirk slightly turned his head in my direction.
‘’First off, Lester Only was appointed that position because he would take a bullet before I would’’ I looked to Johansson, who seemed to pay me no attention despite the remark he had just made. ‘’But hell, since I value your opinion so much I’ll let you both cover me’’ Lt. Johansson calmly stated in as Thomas returned to me a cold stare. Holding my gun tightly, with a few words Johansson cut the tension with a knife.
‘’Now let’s go kill some Germans. Let’s move in!’’~~
‘’Fuck, we are pinned down!’’ Lt. Johansson stated, as we hid tightly within the dirt dug trench. I glanced over only to see a man being blasted away by a hand thrown grenade. Death was everywhere. You couldn’t go longer than 10 seconds with-out seeing a German being shot to death, or a fellow Canadian being blown up.
‘’Where the hell do we go from here?’’ Thomas shouted in panic. Lt. Johansson shook his head, before peaking his head up at the battlefield in-front of him. Getting a good look, he lowered. A grenade not too far away from his head went off, as the dirt flew into the air helplessly, it didn’t shake him one bit.
‘’One of you is going to have to grow some balls, and pop out of this trench to take out a few of these Germans’’
Thomas looked towards me. Not wanting to be that man, I questioned Johansson it might have not been the wisest decision. ‘’Why don’t you do it?’’ I asked. Lt. Johansson offered me a dirty look, as Thomas jumped all over me.
‘’Why the fuck would he put himself in danger like that for? He’s a fucking Lieutenant for god sakes. As shitty as it is to acknowledge, this mans life means much more than ours do’’
‘’Look enough of your guys bullshit. One of you, get up there and kill some of these fucking Germans now!’’ Lt. Johansson shouted, as he grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin before launching it over his head. Leaning my head over, the explosion erupted sending for opposing German’s into the air. ‘’Go, go, go!’’
Up I went climbing up out of the trench. Immediately was shot at. Taking refuge at a fence, Thomas rushed up beside me leaning his back against it. ‘’Hey rook, you better be ready for this. If I die, you die’’
I nodded my head, before looking towards him and casually replying. ‘’I guess the same goes for you then right?’’ Thomas returned a disgusted look, as he grumbled under his breath.
1…2…3!
Standing up from the fence I fired shots towards the Germans. The bullets flew though there chests, the blood splatter damn well turned my stomach. Thomas was more ruthless with his approach, as he set aims for their skulls. Heavy gunners ahead shot back at us, bullets ricocheted with out remorse, nearly hitting me a few times, as I screamed out in panic. ‘’We are screwed, we’re are going to die’’
Thomas simply laughed, before pointing up in the air. ‘’Nah, the Brits saved your Maple syrup swallowing ass’’ Thomas taunted almost enjoying the situations of a war. The planes dropped bombs below, leaving a path of death behind. A tank was set on fire, as Germans sprawled out of the heavy machine looking for safety, but were only shot as they tried to escape. ‘’And forward we move, try to keep up mate’’
And forward, we advanced.
~~
After hours of gun fighting we approached the lower half of the tower. What once was a unit of anywhere from 20-30 men, now became just 8. The odds in which I was still here was simply a miracle in itself and I knew the fighting was far from over. We reached a back door, in which we planted explosives to blow it up and gain entry. A loud explosion shook the building, which left a damn near defining ringing noise in my ears.
LT. Johansson singled for our entry into the small lower half of the tower. Immediately upon reaching our destination we were approached by German security forces that had heard the commotion and knew they were being compromised. They shot at us, but both me and LT. Johansson took refuge behind a large stack of metal creates. ‘’Lester, get ready to pop out when I do, watch me!’’ LT. Johansson ordered, as the German’s continued to shoot at the remaining unit, another one of our men falling victim to the onslaught.
LT. Johansson let out a loud roar as he showered bullets towards the German fighters, I snuck around and got low shooting at them as well. Providing cover, the other men quickly rushed in, engaging in small gun fights within the building. ‘’Lester, where is Thomas!?’’ LT. Johansson called out. Looking behind me there Thomas was behind another set of creates blood pouring out of his leg, creating a small pool of blood.
‘’Shit!’’ I exclaimed which made LT. Johansson look back at me. Rushing over sliding behind the creates, I came to Thomas aid. ‘’Thomas, are you alright?’’ I asked, going through my back pack for a health kit.
‘’No, you dumbfuck’’ Thomas roared out, as I pulled out a bandage. ‘’I’ve just been shot, things are going swimmingly well’’ Despite being shot, Thomas never stopped short of being sarcastic, he was quite the character. I wrapped the bandage around his leg, and pulled him slowly to his feet.
‘’Get up, we have a tower to take over’’ I told Thomas handing over to him his gun.
LT. Johansson pointed to the direction in which the other soldiers advance. ’Hurry up you two, we are taking way too long here. The extra German gunners are on their way, we need to clear this tower, place our flag, and take out any remaining soldiers that are in our way’’
Thomas shook his head.‘’Once up in that tower, there won’t be much trouble now will they? I’ve got a pretty fucked up leg’’
‘’Suck it up!’’ LT. Johansson demanded, as he quickly reloaded his gun with bullet casings. ‘’As for your question, I have no idea. That’s the thing about war, you never know what you can expect’’
~~~
We pushed hard, damn well we fought to our death. By the time we reached the top of the tower, we had a head count of 5 and reinforcements we desperately needed. LT. Johansson tied up the German sniper and was pressing him for some answers on the stair case leading up to the tower post. ‘’Don’t you lie to me’’ He shouted, as the man screamed helplessly in his foreign language.
The remaining four awaited on the post where Thomas Kirk stood on by with a sniper rifle in hand playing guard, despite his hurt leg. He was a tough solider, and a promotion in rank was in his sights, which is why he was usually the go to guy, despite being no different in rank that I was. As for me? I don’t know what Johansson saw in me, but I was still here, still alive.
The action had died down. Admiral Abram and his unit was still nowhere to be found in a nearby tower, and so we waited. Despite the horrible conditions, we failed to sit in silence, conversation had picked up.
‘’Me? I got a girl at home. We just married a few weeks ago, before I got called up by the government. I’ve lived in America all my life’’ One brigadier stated, holding a old worn out picture of his wife in his hands. ‘’This war, it seems like it’ll last forever’’ The American Brigadier stated, before tucking the picture back into his pocket.
‘’That’s just how fucking things are mate’’ Thomas added still focusing in on a German he had seen in the eye of his scope. ‘’Things were meant to be…’’ Thomas fired off a shot, before lowering his gun turning to us who sat watching on nearby. ''...This way''
‘’Well, I think its fucking bullshit!’’ I blurted out. Thomas watched on, not saying a word as did the other two guys who had turned towards me. ‘’I mean coming here they tossed us a big party. They treated us like heroes, going to fight a great cause. But really who benefits from all this fighting?’’ Thomas looked on appearing to be rubbed the wrong way, as he shook his head.
‘’Ah, not with this anti war bullshit’’ Thomas stated as he raised his gun once more singling in on yet another soldier. ‘’If Johansson heard you speaking that crap, he’d toss you out this tower, and you’ll be lying on a bunch of dead Germans and unidentified mess’’
The other two guys simply laughed, as I continued on. ‘’No, Thomas. Think about it for a second. They feed us with all this shit. All this hero crap. We aren’t heroes. We were conscripted. We were made to fight, not born to fight. We are fighting for someone else’s greed and nothing more. The politicians, why aren’t they here fighting with us? Why do we have to die for their fuck ups?’’
Thomas fired of another shot, before cursing under his breath. Removing the gun he simply nodded in my direction. ‘’Your turn to take the post, Lester’’ I pulled myself up off the ground, as Thomas shoved the gun into my chest. ‘’We do this, because nobody else is willing too. We don’t whine, we don’t complain, we just shoot’’ I nodded my head, he really did have a point.
‘’I just think there is a better way to go through with all this. I mean Canada is allied with you brits, and America too. Why can’t we all just become one big ally and never have to go to war with each-other? Why can’t we call for peace?’’
Thomas sighed. ‘’I don’t know, Lester. The powers that be have placed us here, now isn’t the time to question this shit. Besides it isn’t like these fucking Germans didn’t have this coming. They broke the treaty’’
‘’So we correct death by death. Eye with an eye. A bullet with a bullet, eh’’ I stated before locking in on a German, and the pulling the trigger, sniping the man from afar. With all this fighting, I had already been desensitized by the sites. ‘’It’s a sad reality’’
The surroundings went quiet. Bringing my scope up, I directed it at the second tour. Where hands waved back in my direction. Taking my eyes off the scope, I delivered the news. ‘’Hey, Abram and his men…they’ve reached the second tower’’ Thomas quickly popped up to his feet, despite his bad leg and the other two followed. Thomas eagerly grabbed the gun from me, before looking through the scope to the second tour, his jaw dropped.
‘’Fuck! Those aren’t our men’’
Target locked on. Press A to shoot.
Before we knew it a large explosion hit the bottom of our tower, as the floor gave way and began to cave in. Rebel and dirt fell from the ceiling, as we all where knocked down onto the ground. The building shook, my body helplessly tumbled. It was only a few seconds before everything went black…
…slowly I opened my eyes. There we laid in the ruble. Are bodies torn, ripped apart, hidden beneath rock and stones. I crawled, I maneuver, I knocked away all the rebel I could manage. My left arm was crushed, I couldn’t move it if I tried. How deep was buried? Was I going to make it alive? What about my fallen comrades, I asked the same two questions about them.
Hours passed. Rage built. Where were they? Who was planning on rescuing me? I know my comrades if alive, they’d be searching for me—but what about the others that weren’t in my unit? Were we not important to them? Were we just another large causality in this war? It soon came clear to me that this war wasn’t all cracked up to be. In my condition, if I was to make it out alive, I knew I would be back in Canada. Back home. Where I would be welcomed…
What I knew is this. I was done fighting another man’s war…
~~
‘’What the fuck was that!’’ I shouted ripping the neck brace away from my throat. Feeling dizzy, beat up, and even hurt I eventually toppled to the ground nearly coughing up my lungs. ‘’I was in war zone. You almost had me killed! The tower, they blew it up…I was in that tower!’’
Michael stood by shaking his head in confusion. ‘’Level, I don’t understand what your talking about, you look fine. You really do’’
I looked down at my shirt, wholes ripped through it. My hands dirty, as if I held coal in my palms. The smell of gun smoke, the visions of death, the coughing…I had it all. How dare he claim, I was fine? Couldn’t he see!? ‘’Your machine, it’s dangerous! What the hell possessed you to make that kind of thing? You've made me into a fucking video game character!’’
Michael saw nothing. He heard the coughs, and he could tell Level-One was angry. But he had looked no different from once he came in. ‘’Look, give me some time Level. I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on here, alright?’’
‘’I’m not going back into that machine. I thought we had an angreement, damn it!’’ I uttered falling to the floor, I couldn’t move. I’ve fallen through a stack of tables out of the name of my career and this by far hurt even more. ’'That game, what if I die?’’
Michael rolled his eyes before approaching the downed Level-One, reaching out down towards him. ‘’You’ll have 3 life’s’’ Michael sighed, before continuing. ‘’Get up, there is nothing wrong with you’’
I couldn’t move.
~~~
‘’Those who don’t learn from their mistakes are bound to repeat them. I’ve learnt from my mistakes, so you tell me. What exactly am I bound for?’’- Level-One
This promo is brought to you by WWW.SUBTITLES.COM! These sub titles have been giving these lack luster, over blown egotistical cunts, personality since the day The Fallen Angel was born (please note there are too many Fallen Angles to pin point which one we are talking about in specific…but you get the point) Sign up now and receive a free ‘’I love America’’ T-shirt, now in Extra quadruple large! Because if your waist can grow, so can our production lines! T-shirt made in a sweat shop somewhere nobody knows about, we at subtitles.com have been given equal opportunity to all walks of lives—just like the experts have! We support Team World! (.59 cents per shirt made)
So, we meet again! You know it came time to shoot this little thing of ours, and I came to thinking. How could I spice things up? I mean, sure. I berate the shit out of each one of these guys in this match, probably even throw a few shots towards my own team of fuck faced slackers. Now, I’m still going to do that…what are you stupid? But as the TRUE expert, I feel as if I have to bring something new to the table. I feel as if I’m obligated to bring something groundbreaking. So, I thought. Who gives a fuck about ANY of these people in this match? Why not I give them something to go home with, a little slap on the ass they can giggle about at the end of the day. So, I came up with this.
Instead of berating the shit out of you all as one entire nation of failures, I would attack you all individually! How about, kids? Each one of you. Each one of you gets acknowledged by the champ, in a little personal session. Some of you will get two minutes, some of you will get a little bit more. But hell, by the end of this day…you can go home and tell your children, girlfriend, or even your mom about the fact I acknowledged your existence. The TRUE expert addressed your bare naked talent. Finally you’ve made a little blimp, on my world wide radar. Congratulations in advance, morons. Enjoy!
‘’You know your production sucks, when your paid to be there cameos out shine you…’’
:::Kalie Wimberley:::
You know, I figured I’d just start off with this bitch for shits and giggles. I mean, did you see her State of the Union address? Wait, clearly nobody was even watching—it’s a fucking union address! Despite that, I wish bush would have mad his just as short…although he was clearly much more coherent than Kalie was; which says a whole lot about this bitches mental capacity. I wouldn’t be surprised if her mother was her fathers brother, to add merit to that statement she’s also American, the odds aren’t in her favor—and they say Scorpio is the underdog? I must admit though, Kalie. I am absolutely impressed the way you just ignored nearly every other team in this match to have a go at me, do I sense a little crush? Wait, before we got any further…you’re a dumb bitch, untalented, and I wouldn’t fuck you with a 10 inch pole with a condemn attached. I wish I could sit here and talk to you all day but…
‘’With no guns, wife beaters, or mobile homes in this match SOMETHING had to be American…’’
:::Tank:::
Ah, here we go. The big old American bad ass. So, on a scale to one to ten how well do you play this gimmick? I mean, that’s all you’ve people have become. There is no more originality. Everyone is running wild on these gimmicks. Gimmicks are fake, a way to sell a few t-shirts, and to stand for something that already has a fan following. You’re a cheap outlet for an entertainment plug. I’ve built my status from the ground up, no bullshit needed. Only for bikers, and gangsters, the odd mobster who thinks he’s Al Capone or some shit to waltz into my ring. For the love of god, just show up and wrestle. I digress. I guess talent alone isn’t enough to get you ‘’over’’ or any attention around here. Drop your shit, or get behind Doink the clown in the unemployment line, you piece of shit.
‘’This message reads like a promotion video of this man. Translation, this message refuses to be funny…’’
:::Eaton Gore:::
Please tell me this whole thing is a joke? Eaton Gore? Good news, his whole thing is a joke! Eaton Gore, silly me. You haven’t come to actually wrestle me, you’ve come for my autograph. You’ve come for a good plug to boost your stock over at the TFWF! I must admit, anyone willing to dodge a few bullets for some dick sucking change defiantly has my pity. But what better pity to have, when you got the champs. While I cannot deny your claims for attention have been desperate, they have been wise. I just hope you have a few ice packs in behind the broccoli in your freezer to accompany your ass kicking, and that when everything is said and done, I hope you believe it was all worth it.
‘’She MAY be American. She MAY be talented. She MAY be a he…’’
:::Georgie Nickels:::
Why have I waited so long to talk about this gem? It MAYbe because I thought she was one worth saving. It MAY or MAY not have just chosen it by random, you MAY know the answer. MAY is my favorite month, but I love kicking ass all year long. It MAY be fortunate for Georgie, because in honor of her name—I MAY not just verbally tongue lash her, like I did the rest of her so very pathetic team. Instead? I MAYbe just talk about how great I am, what I stand for, and somehow relate it to a patriotic speech despite this being a wrestling match. One thing remains FACT. Georgie, along with the rest of team America are going to get dropped faster than it’s stock market. But hey, Jesse Gunn is an Arab- American correct? He MAY just be able to BAIL your asses out by giving you the option of opting out of this match (or he’ll blow you up, and expose himself as an extra member of Team World) just get on your knees and beg. Hell it’s just not the blonds anymore, it’s become the American way.
‘’…This is probably YOUR name!’’
:::Fallen Angel:::
Fallen Angel…Mr. Originality himself. You know as if you couldn’t get any lamer? You decide to show up to a house show. A fucking house show. You know, maybe your own ego could stand on it’s own two feet—if you weren’t in a ring where Joe Shmoe had just beaten some home town hero, even the home town has never heard of. You know, there is a reason why I don’t visit house shows. Fans PAY for what they get for, with a days worth of gas money, and a package of double bubble gum they could catch a seat to watch you rant on for 20 minutes. I’m worth much more than that. With me in the arena, you couldn’t find a cheap seat that wasn’t expensive. But fuck, I’m not stupid. You only joined this little shin-ding to plug your little TFWF promotion. There wasn’t a god damn sentence that didn’t end in those letters. Now go run along, Mr. Originality—I’ll see you next year when your federation decides to buttfuck you for a few t-shirts.
‘’Almost dumb enough for Team America…’’
:::The Rick:::
Ah, next up is The Rick. What a fucking joke you are. I’d be surprise if you even showed up to the match, and didn’t get lost weaving in and out of the bathroom line back stage because you had to take a ‘’Pee pee’’. The fact that you even have minor respect from both your co-workers and the wrestling world around you is simply mind boggling. More mind fuck worthy, is that I was damn near sure only the divas could get ahead, by sucking one. I can’t wait to hear you open your mouth, so I can shove my fist down your throat and you can swallow your massive amounts of verbal diarrhea. The only thing that is a BIGGER joke than you are, is Barney Green. But that’s only because fruits and vegetables aren’t his friend where as cupcakes might as well be his tag team partner. But you by far Rick, you’re the funniest joke out there. I can’t wait to make you my bitch come Rival Factions.
‘’Cat got your tongue? Or is that something else in your mouth…’’
:::Madelyn Mayhem:::
Speaking of bitches. How are you doing, chica? You know I’ve heard through the grapevine that you weren’t please with what I had to say about you, why must you be such a ungrateful bitch? I must admit, I had anticipated your response for a few days now and you still haven’t gotten back to me. I guess the dinner and the movie offer, didn’t float well with you? I knew I should have skipped all that shit, and went straight to beating the cooch. I really hope you back away from me in that match, and you show the world that not only can you give brains, but that you have one in that head of yours. I’ll see you in the ring, and maybe under the bed sheet? The champ has thrown the offer out there, weather or not you end up in a body bag will tell the world what choice you had made. Don’t disappoint them, Madelyn.
‘’If my name smells like cock breath, it’s because it was all up in THIS guys mouth…’’
:::Jack Purcell:::
Note to self, bring box of tissues to the ring. For the love of god Jack, shut your pie hole. It’s been how many months, and your still slitting your wrists because you failed to make the cut? You still talking about your second round elimination, and beating your head across brick walls because of it? For fuck sakes, Jack. You complain about your losses more than I talk about my long list of wins. And shit, if I was you Jack Purcell, I’d cry to. In fact, I’d kill myself. No, I’m not kidding. You should really fucking consider it. I haven’t done anything since I won Experts title? Where the hell do you get your information, and did it say anything about your mom? I’ve been taking bigger shits then you daily, and I’ve faced about 5 jobbers off the top of my head that will give me more run for my money then you could ever dream up. Now continue to suck dick for bus fair, you irrelevant little bitch.
THE END!
...
Wait! Wait a second. I think I forgot Team World, I need to say something about Team World. These guys are motivated, talented, and a hungry bunch of individuals that deserve the time that anyone else in this match has gotten from me…
And my team? Team Canada! I need to throw positive statements, a nice pep talk, and tell them how much they are fucking screwed if one of them ruins the entire match for the people that actually put work into winning!
I need more time, I’m Level-One damn it. I get more time!
‘’Please note: Level-One has been given more time! We at subtitles.com not want to fuck with this man’’
Okay, so now that I’ve gotten more time what makes you think I’m going to waste it on these fucking morons, who still hasn’t taken any time out of their schedule’s to drop a few lines for this match? You people don’t even know what you signed up for, you fucking signed over your right to safe health, your right to live—you’ve signed your death sentences. And for what, to be recognized?
Let it be know, the battles line have been drawn. And now I’m going to dance back and forth over them, with-out a care in the world. I don’t care who you are, where you come from—team America, to my own team of Canadians. If you’re a weakness I this match you WILL be rooted out. I’m the TRUE expert, I am motivation, I am top talent. I am the best.
More importantly? I’m fucking Level-One. And YOU all can have MY spare time to prove why your even half as good. Please, try to make a fucking impact.
The clock is ticking, so do something. The TRUE EXPERT is tired of waiting.
‘’One’s’’ Into the game Pt. 2
The call to duty…
BREAKING NEWS: PROTEST AT EWC HEADQUATERS
Time: Present
The corruption. Can you see it? I can. Behind the closed doors, we know its there… Or at least deep down we do. The sheep’s? They follow, all in the direction of a pay check to keep their mouth shut. They listen to the managements threats, every last one of them and those who are willing to listen no more? They are censored when they try to speak out. We don’t test them. We don’t ask questions. We follow, and they lead. That’s what they want; but no matter what they do…
Tonight; they won’t get it.
I stood at a podium outside the EwC headquarters; a majority of the entire roster was there, standing by wearing their look of outraged faces. Could you blame them? The management treated them like shit. The ratings were replenishing. The men that have been here for years, that built this place from the ground up, now watched helplessly as it crumpled. The world heavyweight title I wore with disappointment, its slight hang to the side showed that I didn’t carry the belt firmly anymore. I too was losing grip. I too was tired of holding on. I too question, if it was time to let go…and walk away.
‘’Tonight we are all here for one thing. And that is to be treated fairly…’’ I started off, barely looking into the crowd of my fellow co-workers. ‘’We have all busted our asses in that ring, we have all fought hard and furious to keep our show, our home, standing tall and proud at the top of the hill. And we now refuse to be ignored…’’
I took a look at the worn faces, some glared at me with anger, some uncertainty, and the odd face looked at me with no emotion. They all questioned their future here, and I didn’t blame them.
‘’For so long we have fought with each-other. The blood. The sweat. The tears, we’ve seen it all. There is faces in this crowd that I have I beaten, that I have cut open, that I have bruised, and yet you still look at me with a shred of respect, no matter how little…’’ I looked into the crowd once more where Crazy Man stood up, not sitting in the white chairs in-front of him, he returned an emotionless look.
‘’…And now instead of fighting each-other. Ripping each-other to shreds, we need to come together. We need to unite…as one’’ I refused to remove my glare off Crazy Man, easily my deepest rival in this sport. But for now, I was willing to move past it. The EwC could not live on with-out it. Crazy Man, simply spit on the ground before turning away from me and walking out. Looking back towards the crowd of familiar faces I continued on…
‘’War, its funny thing…’’
BREAKING NEWS: RIOTS IN THE STREETS, WAR BREAKS OUT!
The corruption. Can you see it? I mean, behind closed doors we know it’s there. Or at least deep down we do. The sheep’s? They follow. They heed the governments warning, they listen to their lies. And those who are willing to listen no more? They are silenced with a bullet. We don’t test them. We don’t ask questions. We follow, and they lead. That’s what they want; and they’ll do anything to get it.
Have you seen a protest? Have you been the protester, or how about the protestee? They march with their signs, which print out their clear demand. The protestee? They wait. They do nothing. For they know if they refuse to listen the protesters voice will run dry. They will realize their words are lost on deaf ears, who can’t hear anything but their own ignorance. This results in someone losing it. Refusing to be ignored. With a Molotov cocktail, with a flame lit in its belly…
The cities are in riots.
The most futile ones are the hungry, the homeless, the jobless. They worked hard, but the people sitting in the big government buildings, dining on the tax-payers dollar, has miss managed their money, thrown it out the window just to see it blow in the wind. And now the people must watch.
Color, age, sex, location…it didn’t matter. They were all suffering. Some worse then ever, but the entire world economy was collapsing all at once. However there cause wasn’t for war. The furthest thing from it. It was against a war. Countries took sides, emotions and words were spilled. The only way to get their country out of the slump wasn’t by electing a better president. No. It was by allowing one other government to fall, so they could take everything they had, and claim it as their own.
The police were released. With their batons, and big shields that protected them from nothing more than a few rocks by angry protesters, they charged. People screamed, people cursed. A man stood at a podium ready to speak watching as the chaos unfolded…
It was war.
~~~
This was crazy. Here I was, in some suburban basement twice as large as a normal one, and 10 times smaller than the one I could’ve very well owned. The craziest part about that? Is that isn’t even crazy compared to why exactly I was in this basement, seated in an uncomfortable chair. The crazy part about the whole thing, is that in this crazy basement, in this crazy chair, I was going to have the crazy part of myself destroyed. Or, so I hoped. This was just too crazy.
What kind of sane man would believe this shit anyways? Michael, in my eyes was a shady man. His demeanor was no more threatening then a gold fish, but he gave off the feeling that something deadly behind his glasses, could be shining in his eyes. But maybe that was just me? All my life growing up, I learnt that nobody helps you out for free. A year in the wrestling business taught me to trust nobody. Adding those two together, it wasn’t much of a surprise I couldn’t trust this mysterious man.
As for this machine? Well, it was supposed to rid the voice in my head. To send the bitch back to the hot hells, in which she emerged. It was never clear to as why she has come to me. And even as she went away, I could feel her looming somewhere. Always pulling on my heart, mind, and soul to do the deeds of which the people sought out as ‘’bad’’ as ‘’evil’’ the justifications to why the crowds booed me in the arenas. That’s what she was, my demon.
Still, I questioned myself on what exactly I was getting myself into. I would be lying to myself, if I didn’t feel much stronger with her around. And even though she pounded my temples to the point of insanity, hate is something I needed to bring with me, especially against people I know nothing about. Other than that however; I had to worry about the machine itself. Was it safe?
I tried this method before. In the Extreme Wrestling Corporation, a fellow superstar by the name of ‘’Dr. Amy Rosen’’ claimed to have had a system that would do the same thing. Rid the bitch. Stepping into Dr. Rosen’s however did nothing but aggravate my situation, providing me with a months worth of hallucination side effects which only made my situation worse. Not only was I talking to a fucking demon in my head, but also house hold furniture. The lamp, the table, and even the couch all in which I had interesting conversations with. Was this more of the same?
I began to grow tired. Michael had excused himself, slipping in behind a small wall to engage in a phone call of some sort.
‘’Hey, Nicole?’’ Michael whispered into the phone, hearing her breath he quickly continued on. ‘’Hey, Nicole. Are you busy right now?’’ Michael asked with slight hope flaring through his vocal chords.
‘’Busy?’’ She sheepishly asked. ‘’Michael Hun, it’s 3 o’ clock in the morning’’ Nicole uttered, before taking a long yawn.
‘’Yeah, I’m so sorry for waking you up’’ Michael said with sincere guilt in his tone, he knew Nicole deserved more than this, but he saw no other option. ‘’But Nicole, trust me when I say this, I have an opportunity of a life time, and I need you here’’ Michael pleaded, taking a peak around the wall, he saw Level-One sitting there mumbling incoherent sentences to himself.
‘’Michael…’’ She sighed. ‘’Alright, what exactly do you need me for?’’ Nicole asked, as Michael clenched his fist together in celebration.
‘’Awesome!’’ Michael exclaimed clinching the telephone to his ear tighter than ever. ‘’I’m at my place right now. I have a guy, a guy who is willing to go through with the testing process…’’
‘’Of what, Michael?’’ She interrupted. ‘’Your video game?’’ Nicole asked in confusion, Michael glanced up in the air, shaking his head sensing a whole world of trouble in which he knew he had to maneuver out of. ‘’Michael…are you there?’’
‘’Yes, Nicole’’ Michael nervously replied. ’'es, the testing process of the video game of course. What I need you to do is evaluate his mental state before he plays this game. You know, just to be safe?’’
‘’And if he’s a no go?’’ She questioned. Michael bit his lip nervously, before shaking his head up and down quickly, unfortunately for Nicole she couldn’t witness him in the act on the other side of the phone.
‘’If he’s a no go, well then he’s a no go’’ Michael lied through his teeth. ‘’It’s not like I can’t find anyone mentally stable to go through with it’’ Michael stated, as Nicole laughed softly on the other end.
‘’Don’t be so sure about that Michael. Your idea, is defiantly one of a kind’’ Nicole stated, as Michael peered his head once again nervously around the corner, there Level-One as seated in his chair, his foot rocking back and forth like a child’s.
‘’So, I’ll see you here then’’ Michael quickly stated, before hanging up the phone. Michael tucked the phone into his pocket, before taking a deep sigh. Turning around the corner, there stood Level-One. Michael’s heart rate picked up. Did he hear anything? What did he want? Michael shaking nervously, looked up to the massive man who cracked a smile.
‘’So, do you have anything to eat? I’m starving like a motherfucker’’ Level-One stated, smacking his stomach a few times.
Michael brought his sleeve across his face, wiping off the beads of sweat that formed on his head, before pointing towards the large stairs.
‘’Right this way, sir’’
~~~
‘’You can’t be kidding me!’’ Michael states in frustration. In-front of him stands Nicole, with her note pad tucked tightly against her chest. Michael runs his hands through his hair. ‘’Is he really that mentally unstable?’’
Nicole nodded her head softly. ‘’Yeah. Michael this man is hearing voices, he’s showing symptoms of Schizophrenia, he isn’t well. Talking to him though, he does seem to want help, even though he didn’t state it to me outright. Michael, put your game aside for a second…this man needs help’’
Michael looked up at Nicole, how could he be mad at her? She didn’t know this, but he loved her. For a quick moment he wanted to tell her, and get it over with, but the situation…there was a situation he had to deal with first. Michael taking a deep sigh nodded his head, seemingly agreeing to what Nicole had to say. ‘’Your right. You as well as I do know this is a famous face, and I thought if he could go along with it, maybe I could catch some good press. But, it’s more than that…’’
Nicole put a hand on Michael shoulder, as she stood in-front of his door. ‘’This will all work out for you, okay? Just stick with it’’ She offered words of encouragement, looking back at her notepad, she ripped off a piece of paper handing it over to Michael. ‘’That’s the phone number to the nearest mental healthcare unit in town. The sooner your friend gets there, the better for both you and him…’’
Michael grabbed the small piece of paper, before looking up at Nicole. ‘’Is he really that dangerous?’’ Michael questioned, as Nicole softly nodded her head.
‘’I talked with him, he’s a nice man with nice intentions. But there is apart of him, he claims he cannot control’’ She stated, as her eyebrows rose up. ‘’I think it’s real sick how these wrestling promotions use this man, for their own violent intentions’’
‘’I did some research, he’s real successful’’ Michael stated, as Nicole simply continued on seemingly ignoring him.
‘’I think if this was ever brought to the courts, the companies in which he wrestled for could be in some serious hot water for exploiting this man like this’’ Nicole stated, as Michael looked up. Nicole looking towards him with helplessness on her face, simply nodded her head in disgust. ‘’It’s just sick how people can exploit other people like this for their own personally game, what kind of human bein does something like that? He's pretty much fighting another man's war...''
Michael was stumped. Lost for words. In shock. How could he respond? He knows better than anyone that when that door shuts, he’ll continue his test—and he’ll continue to move forward with his plans. He felt sick. He was exploiting Level-One, just like Nicole said. And now she expected and answer from him?
‘’Uh…I don’t know. It’s real mean spirited’’ Michael blurted out. Nicole reached over, and grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder.
‘’Well, I got to go now. Maybe, I can get a few hours of sleep’’ She joked, Michael seemed to miss the humor, too busy beating himself up. ‘’Get your friend some help alright?’’ She stated, more of an order than a question. One that Michael could only nod his head too. Nicole slip through the door, as Michael slowly closed it behind him.
He opened up the paper, glancing down at the phone number and street name in which the center existed. Michael thought about it, until he felt sick to his stomach, but even Nicole’s words wasn’t enough to change his mind. This was his chance. So, what if this Level-One guy wasn’t mentally fit to play the game? That’s what made it all the better right? And if everything worked out like it was supposed too, Level-One would surely love the game, and would spread the reviews across the world. The man was famous. How could he pass this up?
He couldn’t. His hands closed, with the paper in between and it crumbled in his hands, into a ball of nothingness, only fit for a recycling bin…and not even that, as he tossed the paper to the side leaving it to slide across the hardwood floor. It was time. He was going through with it.
He had nothing to lose…right?
~~~
As time passed, so did my doubts about this. I mean, it made sense to as why this ‘’Nicole’’ person would want to know about my mental state before going through with this, but maybe I told her too much?
In my cause to get rid of this demon, I have left myself open to the rest of the world. Now they know, I’m damn near defenseless. Now they can kick me, throw sand in my eyes, and get away with it. What if my problems got out to the rest of the world? Surely, Jesse Gunn would cut my match next week, surely he would strip me of my title, before Scorpio had a chance to take it from me. Damn it! What have I done?
Michael came back into the room. I knew he had a talk with Nicole, and this was the moment of truth. Maybe my head was too cluttered to go through with this? Maybe they believed there was no voice in my head to begin with? I mean, it wasn’t that far fetched. Michael however, despite the sweat pouring from his face, creating a puddle underneath his armpit which could be seen through his shirt, he delivered the news.
‘’Well Lev, looks like we are good to go’’ Michael stated, I knew something was bothering him. I took a deep breath, and simply went along with it. Why talk myself out of this now. I waited all this time, sat in this uncomfortable chair for hours, spilled my heart and soul to a lady I met only today. Man she really has fucked me now.
‘’Your crazy for going through with this, you’ll see’’ She uttered softly, in my head. Michael strapped me into the chair, before placing a neck brace around my neck holding me down in the chair tight. Michael taking a deep breath placed the helmet over my head, Michael eyes traveled, as he watched the colors light up. That moment in the conference room, it was coming all back to him at once.
‘’Here goes nothing…’’ Michael uttered under his breath, as he pulled a disk from a small case. He slipped the disk into the slit of the helmet, before tossing the case to the side. From there, Michael watched. Apart of him expecting it to blow up like it did in the conference room, another part of him wishing for success. Praying for it. Viking for it.
ZOOOOOOOOOM
It worked. No sparks. No explosions. Nothing. The game was off and running. Michael watched, as Level-One played the game. What was he experiencing? How was he doing? What if he died?
All questions only Level-One had the answer too.
Welcome to the game.
~~~
Narrative:
We fight for our country. We fight for our people. We fight because this is what we were chosen to do. We will walk onto the battle grounds. And there some of us we shall lay. We will fight with honor, and we will die with it too. No matter the odds against us, no matter the guns pointed in our direction ready to fire, no matter the circumstance, we will not run. We will not hide. We welcome those who remain our enemies, with open arms. This will not be easy for me, you, or them. What we do here today and this day forward, will be written in history books, and practiced by our daughters and sons. Mark our words of promise. Wear your flag proud by your heart. For we will ALWAYS be remembered…
~~~
Fade in. A small boat rocks back and forth violently. The waves in the water nearly capsize the entire boat. Slowly, I open my eyes to planes roaring loudly its wings casting into the sky. Confused, I look around for some answers—but I’m only handed a boat paddle in return. Men all around me are roaring the boat, looking ahead I see where too. A land where opposing enemies wait on rocks stacked up behind the shore, looking to increase there body-count. I turn to a man sitting beside me, hoping to understand what exactly was going on.
‘’Hey, who are you’’ I asked the man slowly turned his head, he was a young kid. He grunted, as he continued to row the boat seemingly not allowing me to bother him. Before I knew it I was grabbed by the collar and hoisted to my feet. I looked down at the name under the mans flag pin, which read. Lt. Gen. Johansson
‘’You!’’ The general shouted, looking down at my own tag. ‘’Lester Only, what the hell do you think your doing?’’
Confused I leaned over looking at my name tag. That’s exactly what it read. Lester Only. Where was I? Who was I? What was I doing here? Before I could answer a plane dived down right above us. Its guns firing bullets in nearly every single direction, Lt. Johansson knocked me to the floor, in attempt to avoid the onslaught by enemy planes.
Bullets ripped through many men’s backs, as they too tried to shield themselves from the bullets. Men coughed up blood, as they fell off the boat in into the waters that surrounded us, we lost about 5 just on that attack alone. There bodies floating helplessly, as I did nothing more than watched. Johansson angrily got to his feet, before slapping me across the face. Grabbing a peddle of a dead man, he shoved it into my chest.
‘’Get to work, you little shit’’ Lt. Johansson grumbled angrily as he stumbled over two dead bodies to advance to the front of the boat. I didn’t stop to ask any questions. I simply rowed the boat, like I was told. All the while, I stated out into the war zone that awaited me. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to find out I was in a war. The more planes that roared over my head more men filled the large bodies of water with their own. And with the more bodies that filled the water, the quicker I rowed the boat, not wanting to become another causality.
~~~
Upon reaching the shore I and the other brigades lined up in a straight line. A man with a rugged face, and a set of grey hair handed out the guns to us one by one, as I watched on by. Before I knew it I too was handed a loaded gun. I cradled it in between my arms, and headed off to where the soldiers gathered. There Lt. Johansson and an American Admiral by the name of Tony Abram shouted orders. Pushing myself in between the large group, I strained my ears to listen.
‘’We will be breaking you up into small units. You stick together, provide cover, and kill as many Germans as possible. I don’t think that’s much to ask’’ Abram stated, as Lt. Johansson returned a sly smile. ‘’You guys, you come with me’’ Abram ordered pointing to the side with the most men, which I was on. The men all followed suite, as did I…but before I knew it, someone tugged on my shoulder.
‘’No, your coming with me’’ Lt. Johansson stated pulling me away from the pack that was heading to battle. Lt. Johansson kept a sharp eye on me as he slowly backed away, before rounding his unit up. Before we knew it, we were off to battle. No time for questions.
~~~
‘’Alright guys listen up!’’ Lt. Johansson shouted out loud. Talking over heavy gunfire, and loud grenades is something he had to do often. I was still getting use to it. ‘’We are going to push up the enemy lines, and take over that guard tower right over there’’ Lt. Johansson pointed to a large white tower with a single man watching the war-zone below. ‘’But we have to move quickly. Admiral Abram, and his men are moving just as quick, and we need to take them over before the German calls for reinforcements’’ Lt. Johansson looked towards his men, before pointing at me. ‘’You, Lester Only. Your going to watch my back at all times, understood?’’
Before I could answer another brigadier stood up, and slipped in-front of me waving his hands in protest. His name was Thomas Kirk. ‘’Sir, with all due respect…I think appointing this Lester Only person in such a valuable position is fucking absurd’’Thomas Kirk slightly turned his head in my direction.
‘’First off, Lester Only was appointed that position because he would take a bullet before I would’’ I looked to Johansson, who seemed to pay me no attention despite the remark he had just made. ‘’But hell, since I value your opinion so much I’ll let you both cover me’’ Lt. Johansson calmly stated in as Thomas returned to me a cold stare. Holding my gun tightly, with a few words Johansson cut the tension with a knife.
‘’Now let’s go kill some Germans. Let’s move in!’’~~
‘’Fuck, we are pinned down!’’ Lt. Johansson stated, as we hid tightly within the dirt dug trench. I glanced over only to see a man being blasted away by a hand thrown grenade. Death was everywhere. You couldn’t go longer than 10 seconds with-out seeing a German being shot to death, or a fellow Canadian being blown up.
‘’Where the hell do we go from here?’’ Thomas shouted in panic. Lt. Johansson shook his head, before peaking his head up at the battlefield in-front of him. Getting a good look, he lowered. A grenade not too far away from his head went off, as the dirt flew into the air helplessly, it didn’t shake him one bit.
‘’One of you is going to have to grow some balls, and pop out of this trench to take out a few of these Germans’’
Thomas looked towards me. Not wanting to be that man, I questioned Johansson it might have not been the wisest decision. ‘’Why don’t you do it?’’ I asked. Lt. Johansson offered me a dirty look, as Thomas jumped all over me.
‘’Why the fuck would he put himself in danger like that for? He’s a fucking Lieutenant for god sakes. As shitty as it is to acknowledge, this mans life means much more than ours do’’
‘’Look enough of your guys bullshit. One of you, get up there and kill some of these fucking Germans now!’’ Lt. Johansson shouted, as he grabbed a grenade, pulled the pin before launching it over his head. Leaning my head over, the explosion erupted sending for opposing German’s into the air. ‘’Go, go, go!’’
Up I went climbing up out of the trench. Immediately was shot at. Taking refuge at a fence, Thomas rushed up beside me leaning his back against it. ‘’Hey rook, you better be ready for this. If I die, you die’’
I nodded my head, before looking towards him and casually replying. ‘’I guess the same goes for you then right?’’ Thomas returned a disgusted look, as he grumbled under his breath.
1…2…3!
Standing up from the fence I fired shots towards the Germans. The bullets flew though there chests, the blood splatter damn well turned my stomach. Thomas was more ruthless with his approach, as he set aims for their skulls. Heavy gunners ahead shot back at us, bullets ricocheted with out remorse, nearly hitting me a few times, as I screamed out in panic. ‘’We are screwed, we’re are going to die’’
Thomas simply laughed, before pointing up in the air. ‘’Nah, the Brits saved your Maple syrup swallowing ass’’ Thomas taunted almost enjoying the situations of a war. The planes dropped bombs below, leaving a path of death behind. A tank was set on fire, as Germans sprawled out of the heavy machine looking for safety, but were only shot as they tried to escape. ‘’And forward we move, try to keep up mate’’
And forward, we advanced.
~~
After hours of gun fighting we approached the lower half of the tower. What once was a unit of anywhere from 20-30 men, now became just 8. The odds in which I was still here was simply a miracle in itself and I knew the fighting was far from over. We reached a back door, in which we planted explosives to blow it up and gain entry. A loud explosion shook the building, which left a damn near defining ringing noise in my ears.
LT. Johansson singled for our entry into the small lower half of the tower. Immediately upon reaching our destination we were approached by German security forces that had heard the commotion and knew they were being compromised. They shot at us, but both me and LT. Johansson took refuge behind a large stack of metal creates. ‘’Lester, get ready to pop out when I do, watch me!’’ LT. Johansson ordered, as the German’s continued to shoot at the remaining unit, another one of our men falling victim to the onslaught.
LT. Johansson let out a loud roar as he showered bullets towards the German fighters, I snuck around and got low shooting at them as well. Providing cover, the other men quickly rushed in, engaging in small gun fights within the building. ‘’Lester, where is Thomas!?’’ LT. Johansson called out. Looking behind me there Thomas was behind another set of creates blood pouring out of his leg, creating a small pool of blood.
‘’Shit!’’ I exclaimed which made LT. Johansson look back at me. Rushing over sliding behind the creates, I came to Thomas aid. ‘’Thomas, are you alright?’’ I asked, going through my back pack for a health kit.
‘’No, you dumbfuck’’ Thomas roared out, as I pulled out a bandage. ‘’I’ve just been shot, things are going swimmingly well’’ Despite being shot, Thomas never stopped short of being sarcastic, he was quite the character. I wrapped the bandage around his leg, and pulled him slowly to his feet.
‘’Get up, we have a tower to take over’’ I told Thomas handing over to him his gun.
LT. Johansson pointed to the direction in which the other soldiers advance. ’Hurry up you two, we are taking way too long here. The extra German gunners are on their way, we need to clear this tower, place our flag, and take out any remaining soldiers that are in our way’’
Thomas shook his head.‘’Once up in that tower, there won’t be much trouble now will they? I’ve got a pretty fucked up leg’’
‘’Suck it up!’’ LT. Johansson demanded, as he quickly reloaded his gun with bullet casings. ‘’As for your question, I have no idea. That’s the thing about war, you never know what you can expect’’
~~~
We pushed hard, damn well we fought to our death. By the time we reached the top of the tower, we had a head count of 5 and reinforcements we desperately needed. LT. Johansson tied up the German sniper and was pressing him for some answers on the stair case leading up to the tower post. ‘’Don’t you lie to me’’ He shouted, as the man screamed helplessly in his foreign language.
The remaining four awaited on the post where Thomas Kirk stood on by with a sniper rifle in hand playing guard, despite his hurt leg. He was a tough solider, and a promotion in rank was in his sights, which is why he was usually the go to guy, despite being no different in rank that I was. As for me? I don’t know what Johansson saw in me, but I was still here, still alive.
The action had died down. Admiral Abram and his unit was still nowhere to be found in a nearby tower, and so we waited. Despite the horrible conditions, we failed to sit in silence, conversation had picked up.
‘’Me? I got a girl at home. We just married a few weeks ago, before I got called up by the government. I’ve lived in America all my life’’ One brigadier stated, holding a old worn out picture of his wife in his hands. ‘’This war, it seems like it’ll last forever’’ The American Brigadier stated, before tucking the picture back into his pocket.
‘’That’s just how fucking things are mate’’ Thomas added still focusing in on a German he had seen in the eye of his scope. ‘’Things were meant to be…’’ Thomas fired off a shot, before lowering his gun turning to us who sat watching on nearby. ''...This way''
‘’Well, I think its fucking bullshit!’’ I blurted out. Thomas watched on, not saying a word as did the other two guys who had turned towards me. ‘’I mean coming here they tossed us a big party. They treated us like heroes, going to fight a great cause. But really who benefits from all this fighting?’’ Thomas looked on appearing to be rubbed the wrong way, as he shook his head.
‘’Ah, not with this anti war bullshit’’ Thomas stated as he raised his gun once more singling in on yet another soldier. ‘’If Johansson heard you speaking that crap, he’d toss you out this tower, and you’ll be lying on a bunch of dead Germans and unidentified mess’’
The other two guys simply laughed, as I continued on. ‘’No, Thomas. Think about it for a second. They feed us with all this shit. All this hero crap. We aren’t heroes. We were conscripted. We were made to fight, not born to fight. We are fighting for someone else’s greed and nothing more. The politicians, why aren’t they here fighting with us? Why do we have to die for their fuck ups?’’
Thomas fired of another shot, before cursing under his breath. Removing the gun he simply nodded in my direction. ‘’Your turn to take the post, Lester’’ I pulled myself up off the ground, as Thomas shoved the gun into my chest. ‘’We do this, because nobody else is willing too. We don’t whine, we don’t complain, we just shoot’’ I nodded my head, he really did have a point.
‘’I just think there is a better way to go through with all this. I mean Canada is allied with you brits, and America too. Why can’t we all just become one big ally and never have to go to war with each-other? Why can’t we call for peace?’’
Thomas sighed. ‘’I don’t know, Lester. The powers that be have placed us here, now isn’t the time to question this shit. Besides it isn’t like these fucking Germans didn’t have this coming. They broke the treaty’’
‘’So we correct death by death. Eye with an eye. A bullet with a bullet, eh’’ I stated before locking in on a German, and the pulling the trigger, sniping the man from afar. With all this fighting, I had already been desensitized by the sites. ‘’It’s a sad reality’’
The surroundings went quiet. Bringing my scope up, I directed it at the second tour. Where hands waved back in my direction. Taking my eyes off the scope, I delivered the news. ‘’Hey, Abram and his men…they’ve reached the second tower’’ Thomas quickly popped up to his feet, despite his bad leg and the other two followed. Thomas eagerly grabbed the gun from me, before looking through the scope to the second tour, his jaw dropped.
‘’Fuck! Those aren’t our men’’
Target locked on. Press A to shoot.
Before we knew it a large explosion hit the bottom of our tower, as the floor gave way and began to cave in. Rebel and dirt fell from the ceiling, as we all where knocked down onto the ground. The building shook, my body helplessly tumbled. It was only a few seconds before everything went black…
…slowly I opened my eyes. There we laid in the ruble. Are bodies torn, ripped apart, hidden beneath rock and stones. I crawled, I maneuver, I knocked away all the rebel I could manage. My left arm was crushed, I couldn’t move it if I tried. How deep was buried? Was I going to make it alive? What about my fallen comrades, I asked the same two questions about them.
Hours passed. Rage built. Where were they? Who was planning on rescuing me? I know my comrades if alive, they’d be searching for me—but what about the others that weren’t in my unit? Were we not important to them? Were we just another large causality in this war? It soon came clear to me that this war wasn’t all cracked up to be. In my condition, if I was to make it out alive, I knew I would be back in Canada. Back home. Where I would be welcomed…
What I knew is this. I was done fighting another man’s war…
~~
‘’What the fuck was that!’’ I shouted ripping the neck brace away from my throat. Feeling dizzy, beat up, and even hurt I eventually toppled to the ground nearly coughing up my lungs. ‘’I was in war zone. You almost had me killed! The tower, they blew it up…I was in that tower!’’
Michael stood by shaking his head in confusion. ‘’Level, I don’t understand what your talking about, you look fine. You really do’’
I looked down at my shirt, wholes ripped through it. My hands dirty, as if I held coal in my palms. The smell of gun smoke, the visions of death, the coughing…I had it all. How dare he claim, I was fine? Couldn’t he see!? ‘’Your machine, it’s dangerous! What the hell possessed you to make that kind of thing? You've made me into a fucking video game character!’’
Michael saw nothing. He heard the coughs, and he could tell Level-One was angry. But he had looked no different from once he came in. ‘’Look, give me some time Level. I’ll get to the bottom of what’s going on here, alright?’’
‘’I’m not going back into that machine. I thought we had an angreement, damn it!’’ I uttered falling to the floor, I couldn’t move. I’ve fallen through a stack of tables out of the name of my career and this by far hurt even more. ’'That game, what if I die?’’
Michael rolled his eyes before approaching the downed Level-One, reaching out down towards him. ‘’You’ll have 3 life’s’’ Michael sighed, before continuing. ‘’Get up, there is nothing wrong with you’’
I couldn’t move.
~~~
‘’Those who don’t learn from their mistakes are bound to repeat them. I’ve learnt from my mistakes, so you tell me. What exactly am I bound for?’’- Level-One
This promo is brought to you by WWW.SUBTITLES.COM! These sub titles have been giving these lack luster, over blown egotistical cunts, personality since the day The Fallen Angel was born (please note there are too many Fallen Angles to pin point which one we are talking about in specific…but you get the point) Sign up now and receive a free ‘’I love America’’ T-shirt, now in Extra quadruple large! Because if your waist can grow, so can our production lines! T-shirt made in a sweat shop somewhere nobody knows about, we at subtitles.com have been given equal opportunity to all walks of lives—just like the experts have! We support Team World! (.59 cents per shirt made)
So, we meet again! You know it came time to shoot this little thing of ours, and I came to thinking. How could I spice things up? I mean, sure. I berate the shit out of each one of these guys in this match, probably even throw a few shots towards my own team of fuck faced slackers. Now, I’m still going to do that…what are you stupid? But as the TRUE expert, I feel as if I have to bring something new to the table. I feel as if I’m obligated to bring something groundbreaking. So, I thought. Who gives a fuck about ANY of these people in this match? Why not I give them something to go home with, a little slap on the ass they can giggle about at the end of the day. So, I came up with this.
Instead of berating the shit out of you all as one entire nation of failures, I would attack you all individually! How about, kids? Each one of you. Each one of you gets acknowledged by the champ, in a little personal session. Some of you will get two minutes, some of you will get a little bit more. But hell, by the end of this day…you can go home and tell your children, girlfriend, or even your mom about the fact I acknowledged your existence. The TRUE expert addressed your bare naked talent. Finally you’ve made a little blimp, on my world wide radar. Congratulations in advance, morons. Enjoy!
‘’You know your production sucks, when your paid to be there cameos out shine you…’’
:::Kalie Wimberley:::
You know, I figured I’d just start off with this bitch for shits and giggles. I mean, did you see her State of the Union address? Wait, clearly nobody was even watching—it’s a fucking union address! Despite that, I wish bush would have mad his just as short…although he was clearly much more coherent than Kalie was; which says a whole lot about this bitches mental capacity. I wouldn’t be surprised if her mother was her fathers brother, to add merit to that statement she’s also American, the odds aren’t in her favor—and they say Scorpio is the underdog? I must admit though, Kalie. I am absolutely impressed the way you just ignored nearly every other team in this match to have a go at me, do I sense a little crush? Wait, before we got any further…you’re a dumb bitch, untalented, and I wouldn’t fuck you with a 10 inch pole with a condemn attached. I wish I could sit here and talk to you all day but…
‘’With no guns, wife beaters, or mobile homes in this match SOMETHING had to be American…’’
:::Tank:::
Ah, here we go. The big old American bad ass. So, on a scale to one to ten how well do you play this gimmick? I mean, that’s all you’ve people have become. There is no more originality. Everyone is running wild on these gimmicks. Gimmicks are fake, a way to sell a few t-shirts, and to stand for something that already has a fan following. You’re a cheap outlet for an entertainment plug. I’ve built my status from the ground up, no bullshit needed. Only for bikers, and gangsters, the odd mobster who thinks he’s Al Capone or some shit to waltz into my ring. For the love of god, just show up and wrestle. I digress. I guess talent alone isn’t enough to get you ‘’over’’ or any attention around here. Drop your shit, or get behind Doink the clown in the unemployment line, you piece of shit.
‘’This message reads like a promotion video of this man. Translation, this message refuses to be funny…’’
:::Eaton Gore:::
Please tell me this whole thing is a joke? Eaton Gore? Good news, his whole thing is a joke! Eaton Gore, silly me. You haven’t come to actually wrestle me, you’ve come for my autograph. You’ve come for a good plug to boost your stock over at the TFWF! I must admit, anyone willing to dodge a few bullets for some dick sucking change defiantly has my pity. But what better pity to have, when you got the champs. While I cannot deny your claims for attention have been desperate, they have been wise. I just hope you have a few ice packs in behind the broccoli in your freezer to accompany your ass kicking, and that when everything is said and done, I hope you believe it was all worth it.
‘’She MAY be American. She MAY be talented. She MAY be a he…’’
:::Georgie Nickels:::
Why have I waited so long to talk about this gem? It MAYbe because I thought she was one worth saving. It MAY or MAY not have just chosen it by random, you MAY know the answer. MAY is my favorite month, but I love kicking ass all year long. It MAY be fortunate for Georgie, because in honor of her name—I MAY not just verbally tongue lash her, like I did the rest of her so very pathetic team. Instead? I MAYbe just talk about how great I am, what I stand for, and somehow relate it to a patriotic speech despite this being a wrestling match. One thing remains FACT. Georgie, along with the rest of team America are going to get dropped faster than it’s stock market. But hey, Jesse Gunn is an Arab- American correct? He MAY just be able to BAIL your asses out by giving you the option of opting out of this match (or he’ll blow you up, and expose himself as an extra member of Team World) just get on your knees and beg. Hell it’s just not the blonds anymore, it’s become the American way.
‘’…This is probably YOUR name!’’
:::Fallen Angel:::
Fallen Angel…Mr. Originality himself. You know as if you couldn’t get any lamer? You decide to show up to a house show. A fucking house show. You know, maybe your own ego could stand on it’s own two feet—if you weren’t in a ring where Joe Shmoe had just beaten some home town hero, even the home town has never heard of. You know, there is a reason why I don’t visit house shows. Fans PAY for what they get for, with a days worth of gas money, and a package of double bubble gum they could catch a seat to watch you rant on for 20 minutes. I’m worth much more than that. With me in the arena, you couldn’t find a cheap seat that wasn’t expensive. But fuck, I’m not stupid. You only joined this little shin-ding to plug your little TFWF promotion. There wasn’t a god damn sentence that didn’t end in those letters. Now go run along, Mr. Originality—I’ll see you next year when your federation decides to buttfuck you for a few t-shirts.
‘’Almost dumb enough for Team America…’’
:::The Rick:::
Ah, next up is The Rick. What a fucking joke you are. I’d be surprise if you even showed up to the match, and didn’t get lost weaving in and out of the bathroom line back stage because you had to take a ‘’Pee pee’’. The fact that you even have minor respect from both your co-workers and the wrestling world around you is simply mind boggling. More mind fuck worthy, is that I was damn near sure only the divas could get ahead, by sucking one. I can’t wait to hear you open your mouth, so I can shove my fist down your throat and you can swallow your massive amounts of verbal diarrhea. The only thing that is a BIGGER joke than you are, is Barney Green. But that’s only because fruits and vegetables aren’t his friend where as cupcakes might as well be his tag team partner. But you by far Rick, you’re the funniest joke out there. I can’t wait to make you my bitch come Rival Factions.
‘’Cat got your tongue? Or is that something else in your mouth…’’
:::Madelyn Mayhem:::
Speaking of bitches. How are you doing, chica? You know I’ve heard through the grapevine that you weren’t please with what I had to say about you, why must you be such a ungrateful bitch? I must admit, I had anticipated your response for a few days now and you still haven’t gotten back to me. I guess the dinner and the movie offer, didn’t float well with you? I knew I should have skipped all that shit, and went straight to beating the cooch. I really hope you back away from me in that match, and you show the world that not only can you give brains, but that you have one in that head of yours. I’ll see you in the ring, and maybe under the bed sheet? The champ has thrown the offer out there, weather or not you end up in a body bag will tell the world what choice you had made. Don’t disappoint them, Madelyn.
‘’If my name smells like cock breath, it’s because it was all up in THIS guys mouth…’’
:::Jack Purcell:::
Note to self, bring box of tissues to the ring. For the love of god Jack, shut your pie hole. It’s been how many months, and your still slitting your wrists because you failed to make the cut? You still talking about your second round elimination, and beating your head across brick walls because of it? For fuck sakes, Jack. You complain about your losses more than I talk about my long list of wins. And shit, if I was you Jack Purcell, I’d cry to. In fact, I’d kill myself. No, I’m not kidding. You should really fucking consider it. I haven’t done anything since I won Experts title? Where the hell do you get your information, and did it say anything about your mom? I’ve been taking bigger shits then you daily, and I’ve faced about 5 jobbers off the top of my head that will give me more run for my money then you could ever dream up. Now continue to suck dick for bus fair, you irrelevant little bitch.
THE END!
...
Wait! Wait a second. I think I forgot Team World, I need to say something about Team World. These guys are motivated, talented, and a hungry bunch of individuals that deserve the time that anyone else in this match has gotten from me…
And my team? Team Canada! I need to throw positive statements, a nice pep talk, and tell them how much they are fucking screwed if one of them ruins the entire match for the people that actually put work into winning!
I need more time, I’m Level-One damn it. I get more time!
‘’Please note: Level-One has been given more time! We at subtitles.com not want to fuck with this man’’
Okay, so now that I’ve gotten more time what makes you think I’m going to waste it on these fucking morons, who still hasn’t taken any time out of their schedule’s to drop a few lines for this match? You people don’t even know what you signed up for, you fucking signed over your right to safe health, your right to live—you’ve signed your death sentences. And for what, to be recognized?
Let it be know, the battles line have been drawn. And now I’m going to dance back and forth over them, with-out a care in the world. I don’t care who you are, where you come from—team America, to my own team of Canadians. If you’re a weakness I this match you WILL be rooted out. I’m the TRUE expert, I am motivation, I am top talent. I am the best.
More importantly? I’m fucking Level-One. And YOU all can have MY spare time to prove why your even half as good. Please, try to make a fucking impact.
The clock is ticking, so do something. The TRUE EXPERT is tired of waiting.
