Post by "The Hottest Shit Going" on Dec 16, 2009 23:53:21 GMT -4
As the slight squeal of brakes bring this stretch black limo to a halt I receive a crazy look from Chubs. This man as I have said before is real loyal. His judgment isn't the best, and clearly he has no spine but he rolls with me, and knows how I operate. He looks puzzled as I just glare downward at my phone checking my emails. His eyes look out the window and his surprise grows more intense.
"Michael, uh why are we picking up your mother? Aren't you two pretty much done talking to each other?"
I set my phone down as my eyes lift toward the window to see my mother dressed in her Terri Lively APW special, which pretty much means lots of skin, no bra, and pretty much just looking rather slutty. How fitting the image we paint of her is so fitting after what I found out.
"Well Chubs, she is under contract. Some of the bookers thought it would be weird for her to just disappear out of nowhere, and not be seen on camera. So she's coming on this little video shoot we have set up."
The limo driver seems to be taken back by the sight of my mother. His beady little fill in the blanks that my mother has left to his imagination, which isn't much at all might I add. The drive to our destination was quite awkward. Alot of silence from me as I just messed with my phone. Chubs and my mother whispered a bit. I could tell Chubs didn't want to say much to her as he knew my feelings toward the slut at the time.
After an hour or so we end up in the lavish Hills of Beverly. As we stop at a gate waiting to be let into a very gorgeous property Chubs and my mother seems to be taken back by the sight that lays before our eyes, a huge mansion. The car pulls up the winding drive edged by perfectly groomed brush. The limo then takes it's place in front of the large entry way with two huge double doors. The driver promptly steps out running to our rear door to do his job. I make a great amount of money, yet this limo ride hasn't cost me a dime as this producer we are off to meet has fronted the bill. I must say the man knows Michael Lively the character real well as he opens the door and calls out "Welcome My Savior".
I simply smile, and since Chubs isn't rolling film yet I don't have to play into it. I thank the man as I step out of the limo. Chubs soon follows me on out with his handheld ready to go. The man lifts it up and begins tapping. As I see that red flickering light it's as if someone has flipped a switch inside my brain. The ego maniac that is the JESUS comes to life as the deminar on my face totally changes.
My mother scoots across the leather seat as it clutches at her rather short mini skirt. Remember the driver seems to have a thing for my mother, and his door holding has given him a great Britney Spears type shot at the canal of my birth. I shake my head in disgust and cut into my mother.
"Listen Tramp, the driver doesn't need to see you Arby's Roast Beef, now get the fuck out of the limo."
The driver a little taken back not quite sure how to take my rant. I mean the JESUS line is a nice gesture or a simple joke to make, but he has just been caught checking my mothers juice box out and I let her have for showing it off. Talk about awkward.
"Like what you saw?"
I ask the man as he acts as if he is not sure what to say. The man looks down to the ground.
"What, look at me! I said did you like what you saw?"
The driver shakes his head no.
"So you are telling me you do not like my mother, is there something wrong with my mother?"
The driver then shakes his head no again.
"So you did like what you saw...well for about twenty dollars you could have a trip around the world buddy."
I turn away from the driver placing a pair of sunglasses down over my eyes as I head for the door. My mother seems to be mortified but tries to play it off as a part of the gimmick. Deep down inside she knows, she knows that her son was shooting the real deal toward that driver.
Trying to break the silence because she knows it's not good for TV, my mother offers up some profound words.
"Isn't this place amazing Michael."
Nice, and she tries to goad conversation out of me as the same time.
"Whatever whore, shut your trap and just stand there. The JESUS needs no lip from the Peanut Gallery"
My mother zips her trap as Chubs then finds it time to opens his mouth.
"Michael, this place looks familiar. I know I have seen this somewhere before."
"Probably on 90210 Chubs you frickin homo...now shut up and just film the JESUS from his best side please, I need this documented.The day I become larger then life, the day I forever get immortalized on film...the day the JESUS becomes a movie star."
Thats right we are arriving at a big time movie producers home to go over a script he has in mind for yours truly. As I soak up the thoughts of being even richer than I already am, and even more famous then I currently am, my mother squats down and pisses in my Fruit Loops figuratively speaking that is.
"Well I don't think you will be a movie star today Michael, but this surely can lead to that if all goes well."
My eyes roll as this bitch becomes more insufferable to deal with. This sperm bag who I now hate with a passion after finding out the lie she has lived in my name, and the fact that I was conceived from a Hooking Transaction is one annoyance that I'm having trouble dealing with.
"You are talking, who said you can talk? Listen scab...there is no if. I am locked in solid, look at me. Why wouldn't someone try and build an entire movie series around ME. I'm frickin amazing!"
Now if you haven't got the picture just yet, we have arrived in a plush mansion in Beverly Hills. Apparently my agent Aaron got a phone call from some big shot movie producer. This producer was interested in the one and only JESUS to be a star in a whole series of movies they have planned. I guess the JESUS is the perfect fit. Who needs your Pitts, your Cages, your Travolta's because Lively is here Hollywood! Now as Chubs seems to be caught up in the fact that he has seen this mansion somewhere before, and my mother tries to not burst into tears on camera I make my way to the large front doors of this fancy place. The doors cased with scroll work on the outer edges as the stain of the wood makes it gloss with a deep undertone. The glass inside the framing of the door shines with various colors from within the house.
I whistle for my mother to come knock on the door. I mean what kind of savior knocks on doors himself. My mother steps forward, and puts her knuckles to work by rapping on the wood of this large door. Through the glass my eyes seem to deceive me, but I feel as if I see a shirtless man skipping toward the door. As I hear the lock get turned to releases it's latching on the door I realize I was not wrong. Standing there with a huge smile on his face is a man in his early 30's without a shirt on and a pair of skinny jeans.
"Good God man! How can your ankles breath with those womans jeans on, and where did your nuts go?"
The shirtless man giggles a bit at my shocked response.
"You are such a silly man, come on in guys. I'm Bobby."
This guy is quite fruity, and very welcoming. We all follow him in the house reluctantly.
"Have a seat right here, Mr. McGerhkin will be right with you."
No sooner that those words left the fruits mouth a man appears wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. The mans obviously dyed hair sticks out from his sun visor as gleams blond. His skin complexion is that of a piece of toast left in the little bread shooter for too long. He walks over greeting me and my companions. His hand outstretches and I hesitate to shake at first. The man notices my reluctance, and smiles before asking me if I am OK.
"Yeah, it's just you are wearing a pinky ring. I don't trust people with pinky rings. I have learned the hard way... a pinky ring means I can't trust you for shit."
The man takes my words and doesn't even flinch. His hand still outstretched he responds.
"Michael, I'm Phil McGerhkin...but you can call me Stretch...all my friends call me Stretch."
I almost choke with laughter as the man tells me to call him Stretch. Who calls themselves Stretch, thats almost as bad as calling your self JESUS.
Stretch then orders Bobby to fetch us something to drink. Bobby turns to follow orders and gets slapped right on the ass by my mother.
"Careful Bobby it looks like we have a wild Cougar on the loose."
My hand quickly pulls off my sunglasses as my head whips in my mothers direction. She shrugs her shoulders as if asking me what. You see this situation would have been just another Lively and his mother interaction had I not found out the bullshit from yesterday. Now I wish I could drill her square in the chin for slutting it up on camera.
"Sorry she gets all horned up around Dude's."
"It's no problem, listen we need to get right to business. You two stay here and Bobby
we will be right back. Michael, lets go capture your essence on film, run over some lines and see how comfortable you are on camera."
I stand up with a movie star swagger. Chubs looks at me in a panic as I tell him to just stay there and chill. I look toward my mother and clench my fist as I walk off with Stretch McGehkin.
"On camera, hell I walk around with my own personal cameraman daily. I perform live on TV weekly, and produce some of the biggest most memorable moments on wrestling TV since my arrival into this business...I was born for camera."
As I ramble on about myself, and my overall perfection we enter a room with a desk and a couch. Stretch has a seat at the desk offering me the couch. I sit down making myself comfortable.
Back in the living room Chubs and my mother receive their drinks. Chubs looks visibly upset as my mother tries to console the poor overweight cameraman.
"Whats the matter Chubs? We are inside a gorgeous mansion, Michael is possibly about to land a huge movie deal. That could mean big things for all of us Chubs...why the long face?"
You see unlike my mother Chubs isn't consumed by the money of this place, or clouded by the whorish dreams that she might weasel her way on to the right arm of some millionaire like Stretch McGerhkin.
"You know something is odd, this house, that name, it all sounds so familiar. I just can't place it. Are you sure it's cool for Mr. Lively to be back there alone?"
"You are being ridiculous. I have never heard of it. You would think having this kind of loot, the man might have a recognizable name. Maybe he's not mainstream, more of an underground producer."
With that my personal cameraman spits out his lemonade that Bobby served him up. His eyes bulge with surprise as if he has it all figured out.
Back in the Casting Room
"Alright Michael you just get comfortable. Here is a script for you to go over."
I cross my legs as I take the script opening it up to look it over. You can tell that I am liking every minute of this as I lean back feeling comfortable. This entire thing feeds my huge ego and that means I'm not going to be thinking real clearly.
"This is a nice couch, very soft and plushy!"
Stretch just smiles at my simple admiration of the couch.
"So tell me Stretch, what is it that you saw in the JESUS. What was it about me that made you think I have to create an entire movie series around this guy."
Stretch simply smiles toward me as as he pulls out an 8x10 glossy photo of the one and only ME striking the ever so famous JESUS pose. My hood covering my head, showing just my circled mouth jawing at the fans. The man sort of creepishly rubs his finger over the photo.
"What isn't absolutely scrumptious about you. You are real rugged, that bad boy image you present. You are physically fit, and can do things most men wish they could do. So I figured why not sign this guy to a contract. Make him a huge name in our industry. The paydays will be astronomical. People won't hesitate to scope out a Michael Lively picture. Our quality is second to none, we spare no expense on our films. We go the extra mile to ensure our actors are not only pampered but treated like royalty."
This guy knows a damn lot about me. He especially knows how to feed this ego of mine. It's worse then Gizmo, you can't get my Ego wet or feed it after midnight or else lots of little insane Gremlin type egos spawn off creating havoc for the entire world. I keep listening to this fluff job from Stretch.
"I was once like you sitting in a couch very similar to the one you are on. A hot young stud with a boat load of ambition, and a dream to have my name in the lights. There was no limit to how badly I wanted success, and I got it. My body of work is very extensive, and I received many of awards recognizing my greatness."
The man points to his massive trophy case. A glass curio cabinet with loads of awards, medals and various honors.
"Now, I have retired from screen. I strictly return the favor someone did for me, by pulling diamonds out of the rough, and shinning them up for the bright lights. Lively you are a very rare diamond. Our industry has seen nothing like you before, and I doubt they ever will again. I understand fully that you do real well for yourself financially in APW, but for how long? Your body, what a temple it is by the way, must take a ton of abuse. At what rate do you think you can hold up to the punishment that you undergo weekly? How long before you can no longer do what you do, like only you can do? Then what my friend, then what?"
The guy has a point. I mean I leave it all in the ring each and every week. Each match is a main event caliber match for me. Each time I step through those curtains you would think I'm fighting for gold. It is rough on this here carriage, and to tell you the truth I have never put much thought into it until this rich fuck just brought it up.
"So Lively what do you say, let us run over a few lines. I'm going to stick a camera in your face, and you just act totally natural."
Nice a butter job, thats all that was. He was trying to butter me up to give a great performance, well little does he know I am all GO! I grab that script and begin giving it a shot as Stretch whips out his camera to begin filming.
"Listen, Jacob...I know what you want. I know what you need, and I'm just the man for the job."
"Thats it Lively, more power, more force, you take over the scene with you dominance."
I stand up to get more into the reading, to feel more like the character I am portraying.
"You came to the right place, you knocked on the right door Jacob because no one can do it like ME. I am the best there is and you will surely see that when I pile drive it home!!!"
I pause briefly looking at Stretch who just keeps the camera rolling.
"Hows that, I'm fucking nailing it hunh."
"Not yet, but soon you will surely be nailing it. Do you mind if I take my shirt off. I film better without the constraints of fabric."
"Sure, man it's your world, I'm the guest, now where was I?"
Kind of creepy, but let me keep reading.
"Drop, to your knees god damn it...you bow down to the JESUS, and show me that hungry mouth. Give daddy the hungry mouth. Take that baby elephant, take it all.
Whoa...what does that mean? A hungry mouth, baby elephant?"
"Can you make an 0h face, like you were seriously surprised, thats it Lively you got it, a perfect circle with you mouth...thats a hungry face!!"
"So I want this Jacob character making a hungry face while he's down on his knees? Listen bro, I'm not so sure..."
"Don't you want to be famous?"
"I am famous"
"Ok, I mean don't you want to be a movie star kid, this role is perfect for you. I'm talking ground breaking shit here kid, never before seen stuff. Add the star power you bring to the table, and blamo...instant money. Now lets get back to it...casting couch calls seventeen go!!!"
"Jacob, thats right you filthy beast, I'm the man...say it...I am the man, right Jacob. Hey Stretch, what exactly is going on in this scene with the dialog. I mean I see the words but whats the actions, the setting if you will. I need some inspiration."
"Setting, pretend you are in the locker room and an impromptu wrestling match has just broke out between you and Jacob."
I shrug my shoulder toward Stretch and go with it.
"I'm the man bitch..."
I then take a cushion from the couch slamming it to the floor. I leap on top of it, pounding on it's face.
"Where you going Jacob, you can run from the JESUS...I'm going to show you exactly how I get down."
I continue mashing this cushion like a WWF Big Bossman Wrestling buddy from the late eighties early nineties. I slam that fucker into the wall, hold it up while I drop kick the shit out of it. I then set it up for some signature Lively moves.
"Action scene here we come"
As I lose myself in the role I don't realize that Stretch has gotten completely nude during this impromptu wrestling match between myself and the Ultimate Cushion. The man makes his way over to me with the camera in hand still pointing his nude meat in my direction.
"Now tag me in Lively, nothing like a three way dance huh?"
"Yeah a three way..."
I turn around and leap back wards taken by surprise at the nude man standing there filming me.
"What the fuck bro?"
"Tag me in, so I can get some Lively. Whats the matter kid, never see a member like this...it's cool, you can suck on it if you wish."
Now I'm not sure your reaction in this situation, but mine was to jump into action. Chris Hanson arrests Predators, I take them out. I shove the couch back, kick the mans meat whistle with a downward force. Stretch screams in agony from my strike as his Gerhkin seems to form the shape of a Z from my assault. He clutches at his crotch for a moment then tries to show it to me again as if I wish to see what I just did. Can't help it, my eyes divert downward and then I get royally pissed at myself, and more so at him. I turn my hips, and thrust a super kick in his chin planting the nude man flat on his back.
His camera hits the floor and the first thing I can think of is to punt the thing into the wall smashing it to pieces destroying the evidence of any gay encounter between Lively and Stretch McGerhkin.
"What kind of bullshit are you pulling here. You can't sign me up for Broke Back Mountain 2, I want no part of that...I don't give a fuck if Heath Ledger died or not, I'm Michael Lively, 100 percent heterosexual, you dig."
I quickly turn smashing the door to this casting room open. My fast action catches Bobby the shirtless servant off guard. It seems the young man was listening in on the entire thing, God knows what else he was doing during that. I simply raise my eyebrow a bit making the man stand guard thinking I am going to strike. Then I break out in a chuckle trying to lower the shirtless fucks guard a bit. Just as he feels at ease, I take him by the hair on the back of his head and ram him face first through the wall of the hallway. He sticks there like a dart as I dust off my hands.
I can't believe Aaron would do this to me...a gay casting couch, he had to know...that mother fucker. Full of frustration I make my way back out to the living room where Chubs and my mother were waiting for me. The look on my face was as if someone tried to rape me. Had I not acted fast that surely would have been the outcome. My mother stands as I enter the room. Her look is that of concern at first, we all know that she is only concerned for her meal ticket.
"Whats the matter Michael? You look like you have been violated."
Chubs chuckles a bit, and quickly covers his mouth as I glare his direction.
"Well I almost was violated, it turns out this Stretch guy wanted to shoot some sort of gay porn angle with me."
"So you are telling me that the head of a production company that specializes in mostly gay porn was interested in you for their next series of films. We flew into town, took a limo all the way here so that you can go sit in some room and get offered to be the next Rod Stiffington. I sat out here and I wondered if you were going to take it Michael."
Silence fills the room as awkwardness creeps in as well. I'm not quite sure what to say to that. My inflated ego is what brought us here, and that is just about how the entire thing went down. As much as I hate to admit it my mother was right. Just as I try to break the silence in the room, it is done for me by the roaring chuckling of my mother and Chubs collectively laughing their asses off. Toss in the fact that it seems my mother knew what I was getting myself into.
Chubs then looks up seeing I am none to pleased with the situation let alone the disrespect from the laughter at my expense.
"Wow Michael, what did he want you to be the power bottom, or are you going to be a top...hahahaha!!!"
I clench my fist ready to finally let this cunt of a mother have it. You would think after the conversation we had yesterday that she would be trying to earn some brownie points, instead this bitch is yucking it up like she is at the Laugh Factory. Chubs spots the frustration painted on my face, and realizes he is at fault as well. Sensing that he might be in line for the unleashing that is set to explode the man thinks fast.
"Gives a new meaning to WHITE Lion, hahaha!!!
Just as she spits out that last sentence of insult a cracking noise can be heard. My mother falls to the floor as Chubs wraps the camera upside her head. The woman hits the deck and falls to the carpeted floor. I simply look toward Chubs with my fist still clenched.
"I figured she needed to stop, so I helped you out. I could see the look on your face, you were about to throttle her right to the surface. I know you have a very important match coming up so I didn't want you to pull a muscle or something. So I camera shotted this bitch instead."
I look toward Chubs as if he just covered me with a blanket on a blistery day. What a gift from Chubs, knowing the situation between me and my mother he took it upon himself to lay her out so that I wouldn't have to be the one doing it, cause God knows I might have killed me a slut.
"Yeah, after what I just went through. I mean what kind of woman lets her child get escorted off by some sicko. I mean this neglectful bitch was about to let her son get seriously molested in a back room while she sipped champagne like high class royalty. She knew the whole time what a disgraceful mother this woman is, you had every right to knock her out Chubs...hell when she gets up you might want to drill her again."
"Yeah, when I realized that I knew this place was used in gay porn shoots I felt awful. I wondered what you must be going through in the back."
The dander on the back of my neck rises as those words left Chubs mouth.
"You knew what this dungeons torture zone was and you did nothing to warn the JESUS. You JUDAS son of a bitch."
In an instant I lay the fat fuck out with a nasty super kick as well. My boot hits him on the chin with rapid speed and precision. He spun around dramatically and fell face first to the floor landing with his head buried in my mothers mini skirt.
"Fitting!!"
I simply pick the mans camera up off the coffee table, and walk out of this freak show mansion. The driver waiting patiently for me looks rather surprised.
"You all done My Savior?"
I smile toward the man as I toss him the camera.
"It's nice to have the respect you deserve, can you work that thing?"
"Damn straight my savior, I know how these cameras work"
"You just turn it on, hit that record button and makes sure I look real rugged OK."
"Got ya, your holliness."
I look down to the pavement for a moment. It's kind of tough to get in the mood to cut loose for a promo considering all that has just went down. None the less I am a professional, and under my contractual agreement I must cut a another promo for the PPV. With a release of air from my lungs cleansing my soul, I look toward my impromptu cameraman and start letting the words fly.
Lively: Chris Cyrus, these are the hills of Beverly. They will serve as a lovely backdrop for Christmas Chaos. Heard of it, thats is the night when you fall to the heal of greatness. Get chopped in half by the Axe of Righteousness that is Michael Mother Fucking Lively. I'm itching to get this match underway, I'm starving to death and beating the donkey piss out of you in front of thousands will be the only thing that can curb this insatiable appetite.
I pause briefly walking over toward the limo as the driver follows my actions with the camera. I lean against the rear fender crossing my legs beneath me as I fold my arms.
Lively: Chris, I saw your rant, and heard that motivational speech you seemed to be giving yourself. The build up, the accomplishments, and the tone in your voice came across as if Biggs wrote you that little blurb to make you feel like a champion. Instead you look like the challenger, you seem like the underdog. Usually it's the champion that has the edge, has the upper hand. Not in this case though, it's real evident that you are walking toward your doom. You will be facing the end of a long journey.
If you wish to pat yourself on the back, and feel proud go right ahead. It was a hell of a run Kid. Though, in my opinion you had no real challenges step in front of you, no real competition. You boast about the class you showed by defending that title without hoisting a weapon, or swinging a chair when in reality you should be ashamed. I mean it's almost as if you claim to be this great Olympic swimmer that refused to get in the pool. The name of the title you douche is Xtreme...meaning that you are the cream of the crop in that division. It means that you will go to any Xtreme to keep that title, or win a match. Apparently you and everyone who has challenged you didn't realize that was the case. I mean from your actions you should be wearing the Dropkick championship belt, or be the United States Suplex champion, anything but Xtreme. Thankfully for the sake of this title, and the credibility of APW I will step up and pull this division from the dumpster it has remained in for the past eleven plus months. You see Chris you claim you have evolved as a wrestler, you have grown as a man. Well come Christmas Chaos you had better hope there is a little bit of Hardcore Kid left in ya, because you know how I roll, and you will feel some serious heat coming off the Hottest Shit Going. This match will be nothing short of intense, and it will begin the rise of a division that brings about excitement, brings out blood thirst, and causes people to stand on their feet as if they are witnessing a car crash before their very eyes. As the people who follow this sport look back on what I am about to create by becoming the Xtreme champion they will remember that it all began once I spilled your blood. They will recall that this spark of life to something so wonderful came with the snapping of your bones.
You little bitch, you don't have a clue how much fun this is going to be for me. I mean seriously when Twister and myself challenged you and Royce for the tag titles, it's was like robbing from the elderly. The only difference now Kid, is that you have aligned yourself with someone a little more talented then the old ICEMAN. You see it doesn't matter the circle you run in, or the people that you associate with...it will be YOU fighting ME, and no one else, you slut.
I am better then washed up legends, greater then any star inked to a contract currently, and I damn sure will be far more superior than any asshole about to walk through the fucking door. You know my name Chris, you have spoke it on more then one occasion. Lately my ears burn in the middle of the night. I bet your are cursing me in your sleep. I bet you wish that I had never returned. You knew if I did what I would be coming for.
You see the truth lies within you, yet you stifle every chance you get. You love being Xtreme, you love the fact that you hold that title, and knew it was my last missing piece to my puzzle of greatness. The people who's coat tails you have rode to get to where you are as we speak are the ones that thinks it's barbaric. I mean that Travelocity Nome that you consider a best friend is the one clouding your head with these silly thoughts, and notions. What has that gotten you...a hair cut, a fancy new name that one could be soooo proud of, and a one way ticket with destiny as you look upon your former stable mate. A man you know full well will tear you to shreds as soon as the bell rings, and shit you out in a pile of feces so the fans can smell the crap you have been feeding them for the past year.
You see Kid I'm hoping this fear inside of you sparks a little of that fire you once had. I hope it makes you realize how desperate this situation is. I mean if you wanted to leave the Xtreme scene behind, then it would have happened already. Instead something in the pit of your gut has forced you to clutch onto it with every defense, and stay put as champion. This defense my boy will be far more challenging than any other you have had. Your little speech about who you have fought, and who you have beaten was real fancy. I could give a fuck less about the Assassin, or Slade Craven, or any one else...they haven't done what I have in APW, in the amount of time I have either. Hell after Christmas Chaos Craven will come tumbling down that mountain of success with his tail between his legs. I know just by looking at this half cocked idiot he isn't ready for the pressure being at the pinnacle brings.
Chris I have been to that mountain top, I went through a fucking grueling slice of hell to hold that strap high above my head, and be called the very best in APW as world champion. Like him or not, I didn't just get handed it either because Trevor Blackwell was a bitch to defeat. Throw in the fact that it was his match, in his home town. The point is Kid, I can handle pressure, I can deal with anything thrown my way. You seem to think you are growing into your big boy britches when the reality is you have just learned to stop shitting in your pants. Mentally I am so far ahead of you Chris, and physically anything could happen, but when the push comes to shove and you have exhausted every resource in your arsenal and it still isn't enough to keep me down, you will wonder.
Just as the wonder sets in a stiff slap of reality will blister your cheek as then and only then you see me for the man I am, YOUR MASTER. Never have you beaten me one on one, and it's not going to begin this Christmas either. I don't give a shit if you asked Santa, sucked off three of his Elves, or gave Mrs. Claus the anal sausage stuff, your Christmas miracle will be shut the fuck down with a Prelude. When it does, and the sound you hear is my music you will be free from the burden of this title and it's obligations. You will finally be able to climb that ladder of success and move up a notch. You will possibly get you world title dreams to come true with a shot at the champ.
After he makes you look almost as silly as I am going to at the PPV, then what Chris? What will be left for the glorified jobber? We have no tag team division, and surely you couldn't step to your best friend because the Overdrive title is all his. Quite a pickle you will be involved in my friend, none the less know that I will be right here waiting with the title you once loathed sitting over my shoulder.
I will be defending it like it should be defended, and put myself as well as my opponents through tiny glimpses of hell each and every chance available. So when you turn your head from side to side and see that there is no where to go, remember my name. Remember that I told you so, also remember that you aren't shit, haven't been shit, and when I'm through dragging your ass from pillar to post thats the pile I'm leaving your broke ass in.
It's the season for giving Chris...so you can either hand it over nicely, or I will make your proclamation come true by ripping it from your cold dead hands! Makes no difference to the JESUS, the pay is all the same, the game is a little funner jamming my boot in your face is all.
So champ, saddle up, strap yourself in. Old Lively Claus is coming to town, I bet you wonder what I'm packing in my sack...you filthy fag. Well say ahhhh because I can roast these chest-NUTS on your grille!!! I'm Michael Lively, love me, or hate me, at the end of the day you will never forget ME...because I am the Hottest Shit Going.
With that I stand up and strike the I AM JESUS pose as the limo driver comes in close getting a great view of my greatness on camera. With a natural instinct I turn sideways and level the man with a nasty super kick. He falls flat on his back as I cover my mouth and mutter the words "ooops". I guess I'm used to just kicking the cameraman when I'm done, oh well. Thats the breaks, and surely it's looks like I'm focused on giving those to the champ this weekend at Christmas Chaos. Realizing that this is the season, and I am the reason I almost forgot about the Advent Wreath. Yet this impromptu promo hasn't gone as expected, and I do not have a wreath with me at the moment I jump into Lively MacGuiver mode.
I rummage the pockets of the limo driver finding a lighter and a pack of Newport cigarettes. My eyes twinkle with excitement as I pull out a menthol stick. I set the camera on the hood of the car pointing my direction as I crouch down by the unconscious man. I place the cigarette in his mouth so it points straight in the air.
Lively: Alright, I almost forgot...this is the season of Advent counting down to the Saviors arrival to the Xtreme division. We have lit the Prophets candle, and last week I ignited the candle known as the Los Angles candle, and this week we lit the third candle of the wreath. This candle is the Shepard's candle...
With those words I flick my thumb to activate the lighters spark. The flame shoots out from the hole as the smell of butane fills my nostrils. The cigarette lights, and I look back toward the camera with pride in my eyes.
Lively: The Shepard's candle represents...uhhh...it stands for...
Think Michael, think you can come up with something.
Lively: Ahhh fuck, it represents the fact that like a nasty Shepard Chris Cyrus, I am going to fuck you like a sheep. You hear me, you are getting fucked by the Shepard you asshole!!!
Nice, thats not going to hurt your image as a rugged heterosexual male. Even I am amazed at what comes out of my mouth when a camera is pointed my direction.
Lively: So Merry Christmas asshole, jingle my balls and kiss my fucking ass!!!
"Michael, uh why are we picking up your mother? Aren't you two pretty much done talking to each other?"
I set my phone down as my eyes lift toward the window to see my mother dressed in her Terri Lively APW special, which pretty much means lots of skin, no bra, and pretty much just looking rather slutty. How fitting the image we paint of her is so fitting after what I found out.
"Well Chubs, she is under contract. Some of the bookers thought it would be weird for her to just disappear out of nowhere, and not be seen on camera. So she's coming on this little video shoot we have set up."
The limo driver seems to be taken back by the sight of my mother. His beady little fill in the blanks that my mother has left to his imagination, which isn't much at all might I add. The drive to our destination was quite awkward. Alot of silence from me as I just messed with my phone. Chubs and my mother whispered a bit. I could tell Chubs didn't want to say much to her as he knew my feelings toward the slut at the time.
After an hour or so we end up in the lavish Hills of Beverly. As we stop at a gate waiting to be let into a very gorgeous property Chubs and my mother seems to be taken back by the sight that lays before our eyes, a huge mansion. The car pulls up the winding drive edged by perfectly groomed brush. The limo then takes it's place in front of the large entry way with two huge double doors. The driver promptly steps out running to our rear door to do his job. I make a great amount of money, yet this limo ride hasn't cost me a dime as this producer we are off to meet has fronted the bill. I must say the man knows Michael Lively the character real well as he opens the door and calls out "Welcome My Savior".
I simply smile, and since Chubs isn't rolling film yet I don't have to play into it. I thank the man as I step out of the limo. Chubs soon follows me on out with his handheld ready to go. The man lifts it up and begins tapping. As I see that red flickering light it's as if someone has flipped a switch inside my brain. The ego maniac that is the JESUS comes to life as the deminar on my face totally changes.
My mother scoots across the leather seat as it clutches at her rather short mini skirt. Remember the driver seems to have a thing for my mother, and his door holding has given him a great Britney Spears type shot at the canal of my birth. I shake my head in disgust and cut into my mother.
"Listen Tramp, the driver doesn't need to see you Arby's Roast Beef, now get the fuck out of the limo."
The driver a little taken back not quite sure how to take my rant. I mean the JESUS line is a nice gesture or a simple joke to make, but he has just been caught checking my mothers juice box out and I let her have for showing it off. Talk about awkward.
"Like what you saw?"
I ask the man as he acts as if he is not sure what to say. The man looks down to the ground.
"What, look at me! I said did you like what you saw?"
The driver shakes his head no.
"So you are telling me you do not like my mother, is there something wrong with my mother?"
The driver then shakes his head no again.
"So you did like what you saw...well for about twenty dollars you could have a trip around the world buddy."
I turn away from the driver placing a pair of sunglasses down over my eyes as I head for the door. My mother seems to be mortified but tries to play it off as a part of the gimmick. Deep down inside she knows, she knows that her son was shooting the real deal toward that driver.
Trying to break the silence because she knows it's not good for TV, my mother offers up some profound words.
"Isn't this place amazing Michael."
Nice, and she tries to goad conversation out of me as the same time.
"Whatever whore, shut your trap and just stand there. The JESUS needs no lip from the Peanut Gallery"
My mother zips her trap as Chubs then finds it time to opens his mouth.
"Michael, this place looks familiar. I know I have seen this somewhere before."
"Probably on 90210 Chubs you frickin homo...now shut up and just film the JESUS from his best side please, I need this documented.The day I become larger then life, the day I forever get immortalized on film...the day the JESUS becomes a movie star."
Thats right we are arriving at a big time movie producers home to go over a script he has in mind for yours truly. As I soak up the thoughts of being even richer than I already am, and even more famous then I currently am, my mother squats down and pisses in my Fruit Loops figuratively speaking that is.
"Well I don't think you will be a movie star today Michael, but this surely can lead to that if all goes well."
My eyes roll as this bitch becomes more insufferable to deal with. This sperm bag who I now hate with a passion after finding out the lie she has lived in my name, and the fact that I was conceived from a Hooking Transaction is one annoyance that I'm having trouble dealing with.
"You are talking, who said you can talk? Listen scab...there is no if. I am locked in solid, look at me. Why wouldn't someone try and build an entire movie series around ME. I'm frickin amazing!"
Now if you haven't got the picture just yet, we have arrived in a plush mansion in Beverly Hills. Apparently my agent Aaron got a phone call from some big shot movie producer. This producer was interested in the one and only JESUS to be a star in a whole series of movies they have planned. I guess the JESUS is the perfect fit. Who needs your Pitts, your Cages, your Travolta's because Lively is here Hollywood! Now as Chubs seems to be caught up in the fact that he has seen this mansion somewhere before, and my mother tries to not burst into tears on camera I make my way to the large front doors of this fancy place. The doors cased with scroll work on the outer edges as the stain of the wood makes it gloss with a deep undertone. The glass inside the framing of the door shines with various colors from within the house.
I whistle for my mother to come knock on the door. I mean what kind of savior knocks on doors himself. My mother steps forward, and puts her knuckles to work by rapping on the wood of this large door. Through the glass my eyes seem to deceive me, but I feel as if I see a shirtless man skipping toward the door. As I hear the lock get turned to releases it's latching on the door I realize I was not wrong. Standing there with a huge smile on his face is a man in his early 30's without a shirt on and a pair of skinny jeans.
"Good God man! How can your ankles breath with those womans jeans on, and where did your nuts go?"
The shirtless man giggles a bit at my shocked response.
"You are such a silly man, come on in guys. I'm Bobby."
This guy is quite fruity, and very welcoming. We all follow him in the house reluctantly.
"Have a seat right here, Mr. McGerhkin will be right with you."
No sooner that those words left the fruits mouth a man appears wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. The mans obviously dyed hair sticks out from his sun visor as gleams blond. His skin complexion is that of a piece of toast left in the little bread shooter for too long. He walks over greeting me and my companions. His hand outstretches and I hesitate to shake at first. The man notices my reluctance, and smiles before asking me if I am OK.
"Yeah, it's just you are wearing a pinky ring. I don't trust people with pinky rings. I have learned the hard way... a pinky ring means I can't trust you for shit."
The man takes my words and doesn't even flinch. His hand still outstretched he responds.
"Michael, I'm Phil McGerhkin...but you can call me Stretch...all my friends call me Stretch."
I almost choke with laughter as the man tells me to call him Stretch. Who calls themselves Stretch, thats almost as bad as calling your self JESUS.
Stretch then orders Bobby to fetch us something to drink. Bobby turns to follow orders and gets slapped right on the ass by my mother.
"Careful Bobby it looks like we have a wild Cougar on the loose."
My hand quickly pulls off my sunglasses as my head whips in my mothers direction. She shrugs her shoulders as if asking me what. You see this situation would have been just another Lively and his mother interaction had I not found out the bullshit from yesterday. Now I wish I could drill her square in the chin for slutting it up on camera.
"Sorry she gets all horned up around Dude's."
"It's no problem, listen we need to get right to business. You two stay here and Bobby
we will be right back. Michael, lets go capture your essence on film, run over some lines and see how comfortable you are on camera."
I stand up with a movie star swagger. Chubs looks at me in a panic as I tell him to just stay there and chill. I look toward my mother and clench my fist as I walk off with Stretch McGehkin.
"On camera, hell I walk around with my own personal cameraman daily. I perform live on TV weekly, and produce some of the biggest most memorable moments on wrestling TV since my arrival into this business...I was born for camera."
As I ramble on about myself, and my overall perfection we enter a room with a desk and a couch. Stretch has a seat at the desk offering me the couch. I sit down making myself comfortable.
Back in the living room Chubs and my mother receive their drinks. Chubs looks visibly upset as my mother tries to console the poor overweight cameraman.
"Whats the matter Chubs? We are inside a gorgeous mansion, Michael is possibly about to land a huge movie deal. That could mean big things for all of us Chubs...why the long face?"
You see unlike my mother Chubs isn't consumed by the money of this place, or clouded by the whorish dreams that she might weasel her way on to the right arm of some millionaire like Stretch McGerhkin.
"You know something is odd, this house, that name, it all sounds so familiar. I just can't place it. Are you sure it's cool for Mr. Lively to be back there alone?"
"You are being ridiculous. I have never heard of it. You would think having this kind of loot, the man might have a recognizable name. Maybe he's not mainstream, more of an underground producer."
With that my personal cameraman spits out his lemonade that Bobby served him up. His eyes bulge with surprise as if he has it all figured out.
Back in the Casting Room
"Alright Michael you just get comfortable. Here is a script for you to go over."
I cross my legs as I take the script opening it up to look it over. You can tell that I am liking every minute of this as I lean back feeling comfortable. This entire thing feeds my huge ego and that means I'm not going to be thinking real clearly.
"This is a nice couch, very soft and plushy!"
Stretch just smiles at my simple admiration of the couch.
"So tell me Stretch, what is it that you saw in the JESUS. What was it about me that made you think I have to create an entire movie series around this guy."
Stretch simply smiles toward me as as he pulls out an 8x10 glossy photo of the one and only ME striking the ever so famous JESUS pose. My hood covering my head, showing just my circled mouth jawing at the fans. The man sort of creepishly rubs his finger over the photo.
"What isn't absolutely scrumptious about you. You are real rugged, that bad boy image you present. You are physically fit, and can do things most men wish they could do. So I figured why not sign this guy to a contract. Make him a huge name in our industry. The paydays will be astronomical. People won't hesitate to scope out a Michael Lively picture. Our quality is second to none, we spare no expense on our films. We go the extra mile to ensure our actors are not only pampered but treated like royalty."
This guy knows a damn lot about me. He especially knows how to feed this ego of mine. It's worse then Gizmo, you can't get my Ego wet or feed it after midnight or else lots of little insane Gremlin type egos spawn off creating havoc for the entire world. I keep listening to this fluff job from Stretch.
"I was once like you sitting in a couch very similar to the one you are on. A hot young stud with a boat load of ambition, and a dream to have my name in the lights. There was no limit to how badly I wanted success, and I got it. My body of work is very extensive, and I received many of awards recognizing my greatness."
The man points to his massive trophy case. A glass curio cabinet with loads of awards, medals and various honors.
"Now, I have retired from screen. I strictly return the favor someone did for me, by pulling diamonds out of the rough, and shinning them up for the bright lights. Lively you are a very rare diamond. Our industry has seen nothing like you before, and I doubt they ever will again. I understand fully that you do real well for yourself financially in APW, but for how long? Your body, what a temple it is by the way, must take a ton of abuse. At what rate do you think you can hold up to the punishment that you undergo weekly? How long before you can no longer do what you do, like only you can do? Then what my friend, then what?"
The guy has a point. I mean I leave it all in the ring each and every week. Each match is a main event caliber match for me. Each time I step through those curtains you would think I'm fighting for gold. It is rough on this here carriage, and to tell you the truth I have never put much thought into it until this rich fuck just brought it up.
"So Lively what do you say, let us run over a few lines. I'm going to stick a camera in your face, and you just act totally natural."
Nice a butter job, thats all that was. He was trying to butter me up to give a great performance, well little does he know I am all GO! I grab that script and begin giving it a shot as Stretch whips out his camera to begin filming.
"Listen, Jacob...I know what you want. I know what you need, and I'm just the man for the job."
"Thats it Lively, more power, more force, you take over the scene with you dominance."
I stand up to get more into the reading, to feel more like the character I am portraying.
"You came to the right place, you knocked on the right door Jacob because no one can do it like ME. I am the best there is and you will surely see that when I pile drive it home!!!"
I pause briefly looking at Stretch who just keeps the camera rolling.
"Hows that, I'm fucking nailing it hunh."
"Not yet, but soon you will surely be nailing it. Do you mind if I take my shirt off. I film better without the constraints of fabric."
"Sure, man it's your world, I'm the guest, now where was I?"
Kind of creepy, but let me keep reading.
"Drop, to your knees god damn it...you bow down to the JESUS, and show me that hungry mouth. Give daddy the hungry mouth. Take that baby elephant, take it all.
Whoa...what does that mean? A hungry mouth, baby elephant?"
"Can you make an 0h face, like you were seriously surprised, thats it Lively you got it, a perfect circle with you mouth...thats a hungry face!!"
"So I want this Jacob character making a hungry face while he's down on his knees? Listen bro, I'm not so sure..."
"Don't you want to be famous?"
"I am famous"
"Ok, I mean don't you want to be a movie star kid, this role is perfect for you. I'm talking ground breaking shit here kid, never before seen stuff. Add the star power you bring to the table, and blamo...instant money. Now lets get back to it...casting couch calls seventeen go!!!"
"Jacob, thats right you filthy beast, I'm the man...say it...I am the man, right Jacob. Hey Stretch, what exactly is going on in this scene with the dialog. I mean I see the words but whats the actions, the setting if you will. I need some inspiration."
"Setting, pretend you are in the locker room and an impromptu wrestling match has just broke out between you and Jacob."
I shrug my shoulder toward Stretch and go with it.
"I'm the man bitch..."
I then take a cushion from the couch slamming it to the floor. I leap on top of it, pounding on it's face.
"Where you going Jacob, you can run from the JESUS...I'm going to show you exactly how I get down."
I continue mashing this cushion like a WWF Big Bossman Wrestling buddy from the late eighties early nineties. I slam that fucker into the wall, hold it up while I drop kick the shit out of it. I then set it up for some signature Lively moves.
"Action scene here we come"
As I lose myself in the role I don't realize that Stretch has gotten completely nude during this impromptu wrestling match between myself and the Ultimate Cushion. The man makes his way over to me with the camera in hand still pointing his nude meat in my direction.
"Now tag me in Lively, nothing like a three way dance huh?"
"Yeah a three way..."
I turn around and leap back wards taken by surprise at the nude man standing there filming me.
"What the fuck bro?"
"Tag me in, so I can get some Lively. Whats the matter kid, never see a member like this...it's cool, you can suck on it if you wish."
Now I'm not sure your reaction in this situation, but mine was to jump into action. Chris Hanson arrests Predators, I take them out. I shove the couch back, kick the mans meat whistle with a downward force. Stretch screams in agony from my strike as his Gerhkin seems to form the shape of a Z from my assault. He clutches at his crotch for a moment then tries to show it to me again as if I wish to see what I just did. Can't help it, my eyes divert downward and then I get royally pissed at myself, and more so at him. I turn my hips, and thrust a super kick in his chin planting the nude man flat on his back.
His camera hits the floor and the first thing I can think of is to punt the thing into the wall smashing it to pieces destroying the evidence of any gay encounter between Lively and Stretch McGerhkin.
"What kind of bullshit are you pulling here. You can't sign me up for Broke Back Mountain 2, I want no part of that...I don't give a fuck if Heath Ledger died or not, I'm Michael Lively, 100 percent heterosexual, you dig."
I quickly turn smashing the door to this casting room open. My fast action catches Bobby the shirtless servant off guard. It seems the young man was listening in on the entire thing, God knows what else he was doing during that. I simply raise my eyebrow a bit making the man stand guard thinking I am going to strike. Then I break out in a chuckle trying to lower the shirtless fucks guard a bit. Just as he feels at ease, I take him by the hair on the back of his head and ram him face first through the wall of the hallway. He sticks there like a dart as I dust off my hands.
I can't believe Aaron would do this to me...a gay casting couch, he had to know...that mother fucker. Full of frustration I make my way back out to the living room where Chubs and my mother were waiting for me. The look on my face was as if someone tried to rape me. Had I not acted fast that surely would have been the outcome. My mother stands as I enter the room. Her look is that of concern at first, we all know that she is only concerned for her meal ticket.
"Whats the matter Michael? You look like you have been violated."
Chubs chuckles a bit, and quickly covers his mouth as I glare his direction.
"Well I almost was violated, it turns out this Stretch guy wanted to shoot some sort of gay porn angle with me."
"So you are telling me that the head of a production company that specializes in mostly gay porn was interested in you for their next series of films. We flew into town, took a limo all the way here so that you can go sit in some room and get offered to be the next Rod Stiffington. I sat out here and I wondered if you were going to take it Michael."
Silence fills the room as awkwardness creeps in as well. I'm not quite sure what to say to that. My inflated ego is what brought us here, and that is just about how the entire thing went down. As much as I hate to admit it my mother was right. Just as I try to break the silence in the room, it is done for me by the roaring chuckling of my mother and Chubs collectively laughing their asses off. Toss in the fact that it seems my mother knew what I was getting myself into.
Chubs then looks up seeing I am none to pleased with the situation let alone the disrespect from the laughter at my expense.
"Wow Michael, what did he want you to be the power bottom, or are you going to be a top...hahahaha!!!"
I clench my fist ready to finally let this cunt of a mother have it. You would think after the conversation we had yesterday that she would be trying to earn some brownie points, instead this bitch is yucking it up like she is at the Laugh Factory. Chubs spots the frustration painted on my face, and realizes he is at fault as well. Sensing that he might be in line for the unleashing that is set to explode the man thinks fast.
"Gives a new meaning to WHITE Lion, hahaha!!!
Just as she spits out that last sentence of insult a cracking noise can be heard. My mother falls to the floor as Chubs wraps the camera upside her head. The woman hits the deck and falls to the carpeted floor. I simply look toward Chubs with my fist still clenched.
"I figured she needed to stop, so I helped you out. I could see the look on your face, you were about to throttle her right to the surface. I know you have a very important match coming up so I didn't want you to pull a muscle or something. So I camera shotted this bitch instead."
I look toward Chubs as if he just covered me with a blanket on a blistery day. What a gift from Chubs, knowing the situation between me and my mother he took it upon himself to lay her out so that I wouldn't have to be the one doing it, cause God knows I might have killed me a slut.
"Yeah, after what I just went through. I mean what kind of woman lets her child get escorted off by some sicko. I mean this neglectful bitch was about to let her son get seriously molested in a back room while she sipped champagne like high class royalty. She knew the whole time what a disgraceful mother this woman is, you had every right to knock her out Chubs...hell when she gets up you might want to drill her again."
"Yeah, when I realized that I knew this place was used in gay porn shoots I felt awful. I wondered what you must be going through in the back."
The dander on the back of my neck rises as those words left Chubs mouth.
"You knew what this dungeons torture zone was and you did nothing to warn the JESUS. You JUDAS son of a bitch."
In an instant I lay the fat fuck out with a nasty super kick as well. My boot hits him on the chin with rapid speed and precision. He spun around dramatically and fell face first to the floor landing with his head buried in my mothers mini skirt.
"Fitting!!"
I simply pick the mans camera up off the coffee table, and walk out of this freak show mansion. The driver waiting patiently for me looks rather surprised.
"You all done My Savior?"
I smile toward the man as I toss him the camera.
"It's nice to have the respect you deserve, can you work that thing?"
"Damn straight my savior, I know how these cameras work"
"You just turn it on, hit that record button and makes sure I look real rugged OK."
"Got ya, your holliness."
I look down to the pavement for a moment. It's kind of tough to get in the mood to cut loose for a promo considering all that has just went down. None the less I am a professional, and under my contractual agreement I must cut a another promo for the PPV. With a release of air from my lungs cleansing my soul, I look toward my impromptu cameraman and start letting the words fly.
Lively: Chris Cyrus, these are the hills of Beverly. They will serve as a lovely backdrop for Christmas Chaos. Heard of it, thats is the night when you fall to the heal of greatness. Get chopped in half by the Axe of Righteousness that is Michael Mother Fucking Lively. I'm itching to get this match underway, I'm starving to death and beating the donkey piss out of you in front of thousands will be the only thing that can curb this insatiable appetite.
I pause briefly walking over toward the limo as the driver follows my actions with the camera. I lean against the rear fender crossing my legs beneath me as I fold my arms.
Lively: Chris, I saw your rant, and heard that motivational speech you seemed to be giving yourself. The build up, the accomplishments, and the tone in your voice came across as if Biggs wrote you that little blurb to make you feel like a champion. Instead you look like the challenger, you seem like the underdog. Usually it's the champion that has the edge, has the upper hand. Not in this case though, it's real evident that you are walking toward your doom. You will be facing the end of a long journey.
If you wish to pat yourself on the back, and feel proud go right ahead. It was a hell of a run Kid. Though, in my opinion you had no real challenges step in front of you, no real competition. You boast about the class you showed by defending that title without hoisting a weapon, or swinging a chair when in reality you should be ashamed. I mean it's almost as if you claim to be this great Olympic swimmer that refused to get in the pool. The name of the title you douche is Xtreme...meaning that you are the cream of the crop in that division. It means that you will go to any Xtreme to keep that title, or win a match. Apparently you and everyone who has challenged you didn't realize that was the case. I mean from your actions you should be wearing the Dropkick championship belt, or be the United States Suplex champion, anything but Xtreme. Thankfully for the sake of this title, and the credibility of APW I will step up and pull this division from the dumpster it has remained in for the past eleven plus months. You see Chris you claim you have evolved as a wrestler, you have grown as a man. Well come Christmas Chaos you had better hope there is a little bit of Hardcore Kid left in ya, because you know how I roll, and you will feel some serious heat coming off the Hottest Shit Going. This match will be nothing short of intense, and it will begin the rise of a division that brings about excitement, brings out blood thirst, and causes people to stand on their feet as if they are witnessing a car crash before their very eyes. As the people who follow this sport look back on what I am about to create by becoming the Xtreme champion they will remember that it all began once I spilled your blood. They will recall that this spark of life to something so wonderful came with the snapping of your bones.
You little bitch, you don't have a clue how much fun this is going to be for me. I mean seriously when Twister and myself challenged you and Royce for the tag titles, it's was like robbing from the elderly. The only difference now Kid, is that you have aligned yourself with someone a little more talented then the old ICEMAN. You see it doesn't matter the circle you run in, or the people that you associate with...it will be YOU fighting ME, and no one else, you slut.
I am better then washed up legends, greater then any star inked to a contract currently, and I damn sure will be far more superior than any asshole about to walk through the fucking door. You know my name Chris, you have spoke it on more then one occasion. Lately my ears burn in the middle of the night. I bet your are cursing me in your sleep. I bet you wish that I had never returned. You knew if I did what I would be coming for.
You see the truth lies within you, yet you stifle every chance you get. You love being Xtreme, you love the fact that you hold that title, and knew it was my last missing piece to my puzzle of greatness. The people who's coat tails you have rode to get to where you are as we speak are the ones that thinks it's barbaric. I mean that Travelocity Nome that you consider a best friend is the one clouding your head with these silly thoughts, and notions. What has that gotten you...a hair cut, a fancy new name that one could be soooo proud of, and a one way ticket with destiny as you look upon your former stable mate. A man you know full well will tear you to shreds as soon as the bell rings, and shit you out in a pile of feces so the fans can smell the crap you have been feeding them for the past year.
You see Kid I'm hoping this fear inside of you sparks a little of that fire you once had. I hope it makes you realize how desperate this situation is. I mean if you wanted to leave the Xtreme scene behind, then it would have happened already. Instead something in the pit of your gut has forced you to clutch onto it with every defense, and stay put as champion. This defense my boy will be far more challenging than any other you have had. Your little speech about who you have fought, and who you have beaten was real fancy. I could give a fuck less about the Assassin, or Slade Craven, or any one else...they haven't done what I have in APW, in the amount of time I have either. Hell after Christmas Chaos Craven will come tumbling down that mountain of success with his tail between his legs. I know just by looking at this half cocked idiot he isn't ready for the pressure being at the pinnacle brings.
Chris I have been to that mountain top, I went through a fucking grueling slice of hell to hold that strap high above my head, and be called the very best in APW as world champion. Like him or not, I didn't just get handed it either because Trevor Blackwell was a bitch to defeat. Throw in the fact that it was his match, in his home town. The point is Kid, I can handle pressure, I can deal with anything thrown my way. You seem to think you are growing into your big boy britches when the reality is you have just learned to stop shitting in your pants. Mentally I am so far ahead of you Chris, and physically anything could happen, but when the push comes to shove and you have exhausted every resource in your arsenal and it still isn't enough to keep me down, you will wonder.
Just as the wonder sets in a stiff slap of reality will blister your cheek as then and only then you see me for the man I am, YOUR MASTER. Never have you beaten me one on one, and it's not going to begin this Christmas either. I don't give a shit if you asked Santa, sucked off three of his Elves, or gave Mrs. Claus the anal sausage stuff, your Christmas miracle will be shut the fuck down with a Prelude. When it does, and the sound you hear is my music you will be free from the burden of this title and it's obligations. You will finally be able to climb that ladder of success and move up a notch. You will possibly get you world title dreams to come true with a shot at the champ.
After he makes you look almost as silly as I am going to at the PPV, then what Chris? What will be left for the glorified jobber? We have no tag team division, and surely you couldn't step to your best friend because the Overdrive title is all his. Quite a pickle you will be involved in my friend, none the less know that I will be right here waiting with the title you once loathed sitting over my shoulder.
I will be defending it like it should be defended, and put myself as well as my opponents through tiny glimpses of hell each and every chance available. So when you turn your head from side to side and see that there is no where to go, remember my name. Remember that I told you so, also remember that you aren't shit, haven't been shit, and when I'm through dragging your ass from pillar to post thats the pile I'm leaving your broke ass in.
It's the season for giving Chris...so you can either hand it over nicely, or I will make your proclamation come true by ripping it from your cold dead hands! Makes no difference to the JESUS, the pay is all the same, the game is a little funner jamming my boot in your face is all.
So champ, saddle up, strap yourself in. Old Lively Claus is coming to town, I bet you wonder what I'm packing in my sack...you filthy fag. Well say ahhhh because I can roast these chest-NUTS on your grille!!! I'm Michael Lively, love me, or hate me, at the end of the day you will never forget ME...because I am the Hottest Shit Going.
With that I stand up and strike the I AM JESUS pose as the limo driver comes in close getting a great view of my greatness on camera. With a natural instinct I turn sideways and level the man with a nasty super kick. He falls flat on his back as I cover my mouth and mutter the words "ooops". I guess I'm used to just kicking the cameraman when I'm done, oh well. Thats the breaks, and surely it's looks like I'm focused on giving those to the champ this weekend at Christmas Chaos. Realizing that this is the season, and I am the reason I almost forgot about the Advent Wreath. Yet this impromptu promo hasn't gone as expected, and I do not have a wreath with me at the moment I jump into Lively MacGuiver mode.
I rummage the pockets of the limo driver finding a lighter and a pack of Newport cigarettes. My eyes twinkle with excitement as I pull out a menthol stick. I set the camera on the hood of the car pointing my direction as I crouch down by the unconscious man. I place the cigarette in his mouth so it points straight in the air.
Lively: Alright, I almost forgot...this is the season of Advent counting down to the Saviors arrival to the Xtreme division. We have lit the Prophets candle, and last week I ignited the candle known as the Los Angles candle, and this week we lit the third candle of the wreath. This candle is the Shepard's candle...
With those words I flick my thumb to activate the lighters spark. The flame shoots out from the hole as the smell of butane fills my nostrils. The cigarette lights, and I look back toward the camera with pride in my eyes.
Lively: The Shepard's candle represents...uhhh...it stands for...
Think Michael, think you can come up with something.
Lively: Ahhh fuck, it represents the fact that like a nasty Shepard Chris Cyrus, I am going to fuck you like a sheep. You hear me, you are getting fucked by the Shepard you asshole!!!
Nice, thats not going to hurt your image as a rugged heterosexual male. Even I am amazed at what comes out of my mouth when a camera is pointed my direction.
Lively: So Merry Christmas asshole, jingle my balls and kiss my fucking ass!!!
