October 24, 2008
5:16 PM
Manhasset, Long Island, NY
It’s late in the afternoon here in the quiet suburban neighborhood of Manhasset, NY. The sun is beginning to set, and the air is getting colder and colder as the seconds go by. Everyone that lives around the neighborhood is either on their way home, or is relaxing right now in their warm houses. Spending time with their families, and getting ready for a relaxing and soothing weekend, with no worries or troubles set in their minds. It is just a another peaceful day in the quiet neighborhood of Manhasset for just about everyone...except for one man.
Maximus can now be seen standing on his patio, leaning forward on the rails. Regardless of the fact that the weather is rather chilly, Maximus is standing outside in nothing but a regular t-shirt and jeans. He’s not even recognizing the chilled out air that is surrounding him. It’s like he’s in a deep thought or something. Thinking away, as the minutes go by and the weather get’s colder. It’s as if he doesn’t have a care in the world of what’s going on around him. With Maximus standing on the patio for the whole neighborhood to see him, it’s as if he doesn’t see them. A few people walk by Maximus’s house and wave to him...but he doesn’t wave back.
It’s not as if he looks worried, or if he’s in any kind of mental breakdown. Maximus looks as normal as ever, his mind is just somewhere else. His neighbors just look a little confused as to why he is not responding to them. They keep moving on, of course, and Maximus still stays where he is. What in the hell could he possibly be thinking about? No one knows, and no one wants to go ahead and ask him either.
A few more minutes go by, and Maximus is still standing where he was before. Gazing...somewhere, and no one knows what the reason could be for. Then from behind him, the sliding door opens up. Coming from the door is none other than Maximus’s wife Jasmine. Even though she seems more prepared for the cold weather than he is, wearing a very nice sweater, walks out looking very skeptical walking towards Maximus. She walks closer to her husband, shivering and shaking from the cold, but has the look of persistence on her face. Jasmine finally gets close enough to tap Maximus on his shoulder, and she does so...
And it’s as if Maximus didn’t even feel her finger. Jasmine then get’s right behind him, and taps his shoulder again...Maximus still doesn’t respond. Jasmine then tries tapping Maximus one more time, and this time calling out his name...
Jasmine: Terry...Terry...
Still no response
Jasmine: Terry...Terry stop ignoring me. You know I don’t like it when you ignore me.
Maximus still doesn’t respond. Jasmine get’s frustrated and starts tapping Maximus a little bit harder than before.
Jasmine: Terry! I know you hear me! Stop playing around! I don’t feel like joking around with you today.
Maximus: Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Jasmine: What the...?
Jasmine is startled by Maximus’s outburst of laughter. She suddenly looks a little bit freaked out by it, and then a look of bewilderment comes across her face. The loud laughter that just came Maximus, slowly fades into chuckling. Then with his chuckles going on, he slowly puts his head down on the rails of the patio. With his head down, you can hear little itty bits of mumbling going on under his breath also...
Maximus: This asshole has no idea who the hell he is fucking with. He has a lot of mouth for a half-tard, incompetent sports-entertainer. He’ll know who he’s dealing with after Sunday is over and done with...
A scared look suddenly comes across Jasmines face. She doesn’t know if she should tap Maximus on his shoulder again, or just leave. She stands there for a little while longer, and Maximus continues talking under all of his hair. In a very low voice.
Maximus: Spice One thinks that I’m just some pussy that he thinks he can just walk all over...well, too bad for him, because this pussy is tougher than anything that he’s ever fucked in his entire life...Of course, since his hand is the only thing he has ever fucked in his entire life.
The bewildered look comes across Jasmine’s face again. She didn’t quite understand what Maximus just said. The only thing that had reached her ear, was something known as “Spice One”. She gives a blank stare towards Maximus’s back, looking dumbfounded. She begins to speak to Maximus again.
Jasmine: Who the hell is “Spice One”?
Still no response from her husband that is being directed towards her. Jasmine then moves a little bit closer. Standing right next to Maximus, and then leans towards his head. She puts her ears next to his mane, to try to get a better understanding of what Maximus might be saying. The only thing that Jasmine can still hear, is the muffled mumbling that he was doing before.
Maximus: This choad doesn’t even know what hate means...and he hates me huh? I guess he doesn’t know how much I hate him. I hated him ever since the very beginning, ever since the first time saw that ridiculous atrocious face painting freak walk backstage! I despised everything he stood for, and what he wanted to be, and I despise everything he stands for now....going to do damage to me isn’t he? Ha! He’ll be lucky if I even let him breathe!
Jasmine quickly takes three steps back. Looking as if she was doing a backwards run actually. Jasmine totally looks freaked out! She doesn’t know what to do at this point. She just stands a few feet away from her husband, and has a combined look of confusion and fright. She opens her mouth to try and speak, but no words come out. She doesn’t know what to say...she doesn’t know if she can say anything. She tries though...she tries...
Jasmine: Um...T-T-T-T-Terry? Baby? Are you okay?
Still no response from Maximus. His head is still down, and the mumbles can still be heard. Jasmine doesn’t even try to guess what he’s saying this time. She just walks slowly towards the sliding door to go back inside of their bedroom. While she’s walking backwards, slowly, she says a few last words.
Jasmine: Okay, I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking the kids to Brooklyn. Their just going to be staying at my Mom and Dad’s...you know, just like how we talked about this the other day? I’m just reminding you...
Maximus doesn’t respond. Jasmine looks a little relieved, but still looks skeptical, and continues to walk backwards towards the sliding door.
Jasmine: Well, now that that’s out of the way. I’ll just go now, and leave you to your...whatever it is that you’re doing. I’ll be back in an -OW!
THUD
Jasmine trips and falls onto the floor! Her head colliding the thick glass of the sliding door! With this, Maximus quickly snaps out of his trance, turns around and she’s Jasmine laying on the floor. Maximus, who then had a grin on his face, quickly wipes it off and rushes over towards Jasmine’s side.
Maximus: Holy shit...you okay?
Maximus get’s to her quickly, and then without any difficulty, picks her up to her feet.
Maximus: Oh my god, you okay?
Maximus asks his wife, while wiping off all the dirt that got on her clothes.
Jasmine: Yea...I’m fine. Thank you sweetie.
Maximus: What were you doing out here? It’s fucking freezing out here.
Jasmine quickly shoots an evil look at Maximus, as if he lost his mind or something. She then begins to speak in a frustrated tone.
Jasmine: Weren’t you the one who was out here with no fucking sweater, or hoodie on?
Maximus: Huh?
Maximus then looks down at his chest and see that’s he’s not wearing anything but a t-shirt.
Maximus: Shit! I didn’t notice! I guess I just forgot how chilly it was.
Jasmine: I guess you also forgot your sanity too...
A confused look suddenly comes across the face of Maximus
Maximus: What...What are you talking about?
Maximus and Jasmine suddenly stare at each other for a second or two. Not saying a word to each other. Maximus really looks as if he doesn’t have a clue as to what Jasmine is talking about. She notices his innocence, and comes to terms that Maximus just went into a weird phase while she was trying to get his attention the first time. Jasmine then looks away from Maximus, and then begins to make her way into the bedroom. Still speaking along the way...
Jasmine: Nothing...
Maximus just shrugs his shoulders and follows her inside of the room, closing the door behind him. When he enters the room, he let’s out a sigh of relief when he enters the bedroom. The warm room temperature slowly begins to heat up his body. It’s as if Maximus has been outside for hours...
Maximus then stretches and yawns at the same time. Then he begins to speak to his wife in a cheerful tone.
Maximus: So, what’s up?
Jasmine, now taking off her dirty sweater, begins to speak.
Jasmine: I just wanted to tell you that I’m taking the kids to my parents house in Brooklyn. They’re going to be staying there for the weekend, while you and I go up to Hartford for this “Prophecy Fulfilled” event.
Maximus: Okay...good to know.
Jasmine has her sweater off now, and stands in front of Maximus with just her bra on. Maximus grins at her, which shows Jasmine a sign that he wants to get intimate. Maximus begins to advance closer, but Jasmine smiles and makes a feeble attempt to stop him.
Jasmine: No, no. We have all weekend for that. I think you can wait until I get back home right?
Maximus: Yea...
Jasmine: Good.
Maximus: But I don’t want to...
Jasmine then moves away from Maximus, giggling and laughing at the same time. Maximus stands there with a smile on his face, and watches her put on new sweater. She then picks up her handbag, and makes her way out of the bedroom.
Maximus: I guess I’m going to have to wait then...
Maximus then walks over to his closet and takes out a black hoodie, and puts it on. He then walks out of the room himself, walks down the hallway, and then makes his way downstairs. Maximus then get’s down stairs, walks inside of the kitchen, goes inside of the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of Molson Triple X. He twists it open, and then walks back through the kitchen door, and walks into the big hallway that leads towards the front door. Maximus then walks through the hallway, walking pass the family room, and then to the front door.
Maximus makes it outside and steps onto his veranda. He looks to his left, and there’s the driveway. Jasmine is there, with Cory and Estella, and is making sure that they are getting seated properly inside of the car. Jasmine then looks up to see Maximus, and so does Cory. Cory begins to wave at his father, while Jasmine smiles at him and blows a few kisses at him. Maximus grins and waves back at them both. Jasmine then get’s into the drivers seat of her car, starts the ignition, backs out of the driveway, get’s in the street, and then begin to drive down the street slowly. She keeps going, and going, until she is out of Maximus’s sight.
Maximus is now standing on his veranda, sipping his beer, and looking across the street at his neighbor’s house. Not just any old neighbor’s house....Arnold’s house. He looks at that house and feels pity. Feeling sorry for Arnold’s wife and kids, as their all about end up not living without him. Their all about to not live with Arnold anymore, as he is going to die soon...very soon. Maximus can’t help but feel bad for his family...but not Arnold.
Maximus continues to sip his beer, then all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a man with a deep voice begins to speak to him. A voice coming from his right side...a voice that is very familiar to him.
???: You have a wonderful family Mr. Mortale. It would really be terrible if something bad was to happen to them...
Maximus looks over and sees that it’s none other than Arnold himself. Who is now standing only a few feet away from Maximus, with his back leaning against the windows of Maximus’s home, smoking a cigarette. Maximus looks surprised to see him there. He didn’t see him when he walked out of the house...hell, Jasmine didn’t even see him standing outside on the veranda, when she walked out of the house.
Maximus doesn’t like this at all. The very sight of Arnold is slowly angering Maximus. Especially with the words he just said. Then Maximus begins to speak, in a slightly angry tone. Retorting to his first statement.
Maximus: What the fuck is that suppose to mean?
Arnold then flicks his cigarette, than looks over at Maximus
Arnold: What I mean is, you have a great family. It would suck if something bad was to happen to them. That’s all I’m saying.
Maximus then scowls at Arnold. Then Arnold get’s taken aback by it.
Arnold: Whoa! Relax Mr. Mortale! It’s not like I’m going to do something to them. You’re family is innocent. They’re a loving family...especially that Jasmine, man is she lovely.
Maximus quickly moves closer towards Arnold, getting ready to strike him with the beer bottle that’s in his hand. Arnold puts his hands up in defense.
Arnold: Whoa! Relax man! Chill the fuck out...I don’t mean anything by it. Your wife is a very special lady. A great woman, something that’s rare nowadays. I didn’t mean any disrespect...
Maximus is still scowling at Arnold. But Arnold continues talking anyways
Arnold: And then that son of yours! Wow! Boy is he intelligent! How old is he 8? And he’s already in the 7th grade!? Man that’s awesome!
Maximus doesn’t respond to Arnold. He just continues to scowl at him. Maximus doesn’t trust him..not at all. He doesn’t know what Arnold might be up to...Arnold sees and feels a negative vibe coming from Maximus, but he continues talking anyway.
Arnold: It just makes me wonder sometimes...how could a man like Terry Mortale, get so lucky? To have a loving and gorgeous wife, and two wonderful children.? If I had what you had, wouldn’t that make you wonder too?
Maximus doesn’t respond...he just continues to look at Arnold in anger. Arnold tries to calm Maximus down.
Arnold: Hey man, can you chill the fuck out? You’re probably thinking that I want to kill you and take your place...so, trust me when I say this. I don’t.
Maximus: Whatever...
Arnold: Yea! That’s the spirit! Now where was I?
Arnold ponders to himself for a split second
Arnold: Oh yeah! Your adorable family! I really wish I had a wife like Jasmine. Someone who loves me for who I am...takes care of my home...and is always waiting for me when I come home from work. Ready and willing to please in every which way possible. No questions asked.
Arnold then puts his head down and shakes his head. Maximus is a little confused about what’s going on. But Maximus doesn’t lose his focus on Arnold. He’s not letting his nice words get to him. Maximus is still keeping a sharp eye on him.
Arnold: Then your children....I mean wow! That Cory is a genius. My son tells me all the time, how an 8 year old got a 100 on his Trigonometry Exam. Then there’s your little baby girl Estella...
Maximus doesn’t really notice it, but he ends up clenching his fist. Still not taking his attention off of Arnold.
Arnold: What a sweet child...
Arnold then begins to hug himself out of nowhere. Smiling, and looking up towards the veranda’s ceiling.
Arnold: *Takes deep breath* Awwwwww.......
Then suddenly looks confused. As if Arnold had just lost his mind or something. Maximus still begins to speak, in his low and somewhat angry tone.
Maximus: You...okay...?
Arnold then let’s go of himself, and then looks over at Maximus. Maximus has the “are you done yet” expression on his face. Arnold then looks back up towards the ceiling of the veranda, and then starts talking again.
Arnold: Yea...I’m...I’m fine...just...just a little....OH GOD!!
Arnold suddenly breaks down out of nowhere! He falls down to his knees and starts crying!
Maximus is taken aback...just a little bit. He wasn’t expecting this, maybe it’s something to throw him off guard. He’s dealing with a psychotic, low-life drug lord, remember? So he’s not letting this fool him.
Maximus takes a few steps towards Arnold. Getting close, but not too close. He wants to keep his distance. Maximus is close enough for where Arnold is close enough to look up at Maximus in the eyes. Maximus is showing no sign of sympathy, and Arnold can see this. Maximus doesn’t take his eyes off of Arnold, and Arnold doesn’t take his eyes off of Maximus either. With tears still rolling down his cheek, Arnold begins to talk.
Arnold: You think I’m pathetic, don’t you?
Maximus, responds in a very harsh tone.
Maximus: Very...
Arnold: *sniff*...You have every right to...*sniff*...feel that way. I’m a fuck up....a real fuck...*sniff*
Maximus grins, but slightly. Slightly enough for Arnold to not notice.
Maximus: What, being a drug-lord isn’t going very well?
You can tell that Maximus was being sarcastic. Arnold doesn’t pay any attention to it. He just goes on ahead and starts ranting.
Arnold: No...I fucking hate it. There are fucking idiots everywhere man! But that’s besides the point...I really am a terrible person, and it’s reflecting on my family. They fucking hate me! Everyone hates me! OH GOD NO!
Arnold then falls down on the floor once again. Crying like a little child who just got a harsh punishment.
Maximus: Okay...you can stop crying like a bitch, or you can get off of my property...your choice...
Arnold then picks himself up to his feet, slowly but surely. He then stands in front of Maximus, looking like a man that has been broken. Maximus sees this, but he doesn’t care.
Arnold: I’m sorry...so sorry...
Maximus: Uh huh...
Arnold: Listen man, I didn’t mean to make it seem that I was attacking your family. They just seem so perfect, and that was something that I always wanted with mine...But no...My wife hates me. She doesn’t even look at me. At any given opportunity that she get’s, she does something to make me feel like less of a man. She contradicts me in front of the kids, making me look like a loser. Just disrespecting me on all kinds of different levels!
Arnold then takes a deep breath, and a few silent tears begin to flow from his cheeks. He continues talking.
Arnold: Which makes my kids disrespect me also. They never listen to me, always doing what they want to do, and never caring about their father’s well being. My son...my son...tells me that he wish I wasn’t his father. Then my daughter...my teenage daughter. Stays out late at night, sleeping around with different boys...having sex with them in my house! I had to kill a few of them...but so what!!
The tears continue to fall down Arnold’s cheeks. Maximus continues to stand there and stare at Arnold. Not showing, or feeling, any sign of pity for Arnold.
Arnold: Then this drug game...if you can even call it that. I’ve sold many things, to many people. Killing people who snorted, smoked, or injected any single drug that I sold to them. I’ve ruined families...and I’ve ruined mine. I can’t take it back either...I can’t, and I feel so terrible for it. Then I would go ahead and frame others for my crimes. Framing people for murder, and for trafficking drugs...my drugs. Screwing the people who I had in my pocket...screwing people who once respected me...no everyone wants to kill me...I just know it. Someone is out to get me.
Arnold then wipes the tears off of his face. He continues to speak.
Arnold: I...I never wanted things to end this way. I know that this what it’s all going to come down to. Everyone hates me...everyone! Do you know what it’s like for everyone to hate you!?
Maximus stands over Arnold, his face is expressionless. His response, is very dry, and truthful.
Maximus: Yes...I do.
Arnold is just looks at Maximus at shakes his head.
Arnold: It sucks doesn’t it? But no matter, I know why they hate me....and I deserve it. I’ve done terrible things in my life. Now it’s time for me to pay the price...I know it’s time for my life to end...to end my miserable existence. I’ve done nothing but cause pain and suffering to those around me. Killing people...framing people...and ruining families. All of these things I’ve done has helped make a special place for me in hell...
Maximus: Well...you just better hope that they serve cold beer.
For the first time, since this entire session, Arnold actually laughs. But it’s not a laugh of joy, it’s a laugh that still has a ton of sadness behind it. Maximus takes a sip of his beer...that which is still cold.
Then suddenly, Arnold plops down to his knees, and starts grabbing on Maximus’s jeans. Maximus tries to pull back, but Arnold get’s a strong grip on it. Maximus looks down at Arnold, and sees that more tears begin to flow down Arnold’s cheeks.
Maximus: Hey...what the fuck!?
Arnold: Terry...listen to me, and listen to me good. I’m a man that needs to die. I have no other reason to live anymore...If everybody would just listen to me for just one minute, I would be able to tell them that I’m sorry for all of the pain that I caused them...if I could take it all back, then I would. I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to...
Arnold then pauses for a minute. Looks down at the ground and then looks back up at Maximus
Arnold: No one, except you Mr. Mortale...
Maximus suddenly breaks into a loud and hard laugh. Arnold suddenly looks confused by Maximus’s reaction. Maximus quickly pulls himself away from Arnold.
Maximus: Alright....before this goes any further. I just want to say you that you really are a complete waste of life. I don’t understand why you would even come to me and spill your whole life story to me like this. I never even understood why you came over to my house in with that bloody red shirt two weeks ago! I don’t give a fuck about you, and your shitty life. If your life is turning to crap...then great. You’re getting what you deserve. From what you’re telling me, you deserved to be killed...
Arnold still on his knees, begins to talk with eagerness.
Arnold: That’s right Terry! And you’re the one that’s going to do it! Kill me, right here, right now! Please!?
Maximus doesn’t say anything...just looks at Arnold quietly.
Arnold: Kill me! Kill me now!
Arnold stops yelling, and doesn’t say another word. Maximus doesn’t say a word either. He just stands over Arnold and looks at him with complete and utter disgust. Maximus then moves closer to Arnold, kneels down, and begins to speak to him in a low, cruel, and harsh tone.
Maximus: Listen me, your day die...isn’t now. Your life will soon be coming to an end, but I won’t be the one who’s going to end it for you. As much as I would like to, I just won’t. So here’s what you need to do...go home, and wait patiently for someone to come by and end your miserable life. God knows it won’t be me...and God won’t be the person you’ll be seeing after it’s all set and done.
Maximus then begins to scowl again, as he looks deeper into Arnold’s eyes. Maximus continues to speak in the same harsh tone that he has been speaking this entire time, saying his final words to Arnold.
Maximus: Now get the fuck off of my property....
Arnold quickly takes notice to Maximus’s harsh words, and know’s for a fact that he’s serious. Maximus doesn’t say another word, but looks at Arnold with hatred in his eyes. Arnold doesn’t say another word either, he just get’s up to his feet, and wipes the tears from his cheeks. Maximus then moves out of the way to let Arnold walk pass. Arnold then walks pass Maximus, walks down the steps of the veranda, and then begins to walk across the street towards his house. Maximus watches Arnold walk across the street, and then watches him enter his home.
Maximus stands there for the next five minutes or so...thinking over about what he said. Really thinking over what’s about to be done. For he only knows that Arnold is going to get his wish soon...very soon. Maximus knows that Arnold is going to get killed...and he’s going to be there to see it.
~To Be Continued
XV. Carved In Stone
Oh fuck yes!! It’s about god damn time that I got an opponent who will give me a good challenge! I’m fucking excited about this man...fuck that, I’m more than excited. I’m ecstatic! And who’s my opponent? The wonderful and magnificent...Spice One. Sarcasm people, this guy really sucks major donkey dick. Oh, this is going to be a slaughter...now witness the horror.
Before I start I just want to say that I will not be talking to you, the people who read this, as I will talking directly towards Spice. As he is the main target, the obstacle, the retard...everything. Now sit back, relax, and enjoy the ripfest...
Now first of all Spice One, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this match. You have no idea at all...ever since I first laid eyes on you, and ever since I first heard you speak the tarnishing words that you do now...I knew I was going to pound the living dog shit out of you one day. Now that it’s the time...I’m going to have a pleasurable time doing so. So why do I hate you so much? We’ll get to that later, but let’s just make this clear right now, I fucking hate you more than a White Supremacist hates T-Money, Jose Chavez, Q.C. Thug, Star, Roxy Nova, and Dan Fierce combined ....even your simple minded, ignorant wigga ass can understand that one, right?
Of course you can, you’re not that retarded...but as far as you calling me the biggest shit talker in the ENTIRE XWF, you really need to go back and listen your own fucking promos. I swear to God, that all of your shitty ass promo’s gave me a mind bleeding headache. It’s like I get fucked in the brain after every single sentence that you speak, because it just never makes sense to me! What are your parents brother and sister? Because you obviously speak like a child that developed through incest, and now has Down Syndrome. Which makes it worse, is that you go on , and on, and on, about the same shit, that no one gives two shits about! You dumb cock eating, piece of shit, wanna-be “down with the homies” faggot!
As you’re the one who says that I am the one who talks the most shit, and you’re the one who talks even more shit...then that makes you a hypocrite doesn’t it? You have said same thing to say about me, that everyone has said about me, which makes you lack originality...you just being a clown just adds to that. So what you need to do, is stop hiding that pussy under your skirt, and show it for the entire XWF to see. Be a good sport won’t ya Spice-Cunt? Get some new and better material on me, because obviously the shit that you just pulled off, is not working.
Oh, and “Spice-Cunt” means that you’re a gonorrhea infested pussy...First and foremost, yes you are a pussy. Always talking the loudest, making a lot of noise, but doing nothing when the time comes. You just lay there on your back, like a bitch, and get fucked by the big dicks around here, who run the show. You Spice, obvious don’t run jack shit! You sit there, and let Chad tell what do to, and give anything that you desire, instead of going after it yourself...Letting the bigger people, like Big Shank and James Raven, bitch you around, because you’re worthless to them.
Now before you respond to that, I knew that you were going to James Raven. But trust me, James has better things to do rather than deal with a half-retarded clown chasing him all of the time. Another thing about you chasing after people...when did you ever come after me? Our match was booked two weeks ago, and yet I never saw you come at me and attack me. I never saw you come out of left field and punch me in the face, just for the hell of it. You never even came down to Anarchy just to say hi....and I’m deeply hurt by that. Yet you go on ahead an say that you’re coming after the Canadian title? Bitch please! You wouldn’t have been able to come after me, even if I was nailed to a crucifix on top of the Golgotha! You’re dumbass couldn’t have even found a way to get near me. So even if you tried before, you would’ve failed miserably. And I see that you’re trying now, with your verbal attacks, and you are failing miserably...and that is the truth.
And what are you a high school dropout or something? You just literally, and seriously massacred the English language, with each and every sentence that you magically pulled out of your ass. You’re an embarrassment to all living things...and you’re more even more of an embarrassment to the XWF...you truly are an atrocity to all that is life. It’s terrible, I know Spice. Your mother should’ve swallowed you...she could’ve saved us all from the abomination of this...of this...thing, that you call “Spice One. She would have ultimately, saved you from the painful lost that your about to endure from me. She could’ve been the one to save us all...but not everyone can be hero’s can they Cunt? Maybe I can be a hero...and from what you said, I am a hero. Really, you think so? Last time I checked, I wasn’t. I never saved 20 fat kids from a burning building...I did save the company from watching Chad become the Canadian Champion...I guess you can consider that a heroic deed.
I’m sorry if “hiding” doesn’t suit you very well. I guess me “hiding” behind the screens and talking as much as I do annoys you...well that’s to fucking bad! Unfortunately, I don’t just talk, I kick ass and I take names too. You’re going to become apart of that precious list, which only makes it all the better. Should I name the people I ran through since the time that I’ve been here? No, I don’t think so, as it doesn’t really seem that impressive to me...yes to me, I can care less about what you think As a matter of fact, don’t even thing. Let’s face it, thinking isn’t one of your strongest attributes.
Then apparently, you say that I’m not on the same “calibre” as you? You do mean “caliber”, right? Learn how to spell dipshit! Unfortunately, I have been holding this title with pride from the very moment I beat the crap out of that incompetent GM of yours. So you want to do what he wasn’t able to? Defeat me and take away something that is mines? Something that you will tarnish, and make look like a joke? If you feel as if I haven’t been doing a great job with, thank you for telling something that I already knew. After Sunday, you’re going to be seeing more of me, with MY title. Now get this through your fucking skull, clown...there is no one in this company who posses the greatness that I do! My “calibre”, is on a much larger scale than yours will ever be! My wrestling abilities, my in-ring psychology, and my natural talents surpasses yours to the fullest extent. My Eminence has reached it’s supremacy a long time ago. And it had begun to rise when you and James Raven where jerking off each other on Impact. So this front that claim that I put...doesn’t exist. This isn’t a front, this is the real fucking deal. And you’re dealing with a real person, who is really, and truly, better than you.
So the only thing you need to focus slamming around, is that tiny STD infested penis of yours. Matter of fact, don’t even do that. Go chop it off, and create that loveable “Spiced Cunt”, so that Chad can rub it real nice and fuck you harder than Big Shank had fucked you in your Street Fight match with him on Massacre. I basically don’t give a fuck what you use against me. You can used a steel chair, a used Tampon, or that cheap ass mask that your hiding behind. Hell! You can even show me that ugly, deformed face of yours. I always had a feeling that you were related to Sloth from The Goonies.
Regardless of your ugly face, and horrible wrestling skills, I know beating you won’t be an easy task. I’ll have to admit that. I mean, you’re a 6 foot 6, 310 lb, sag of shit...and man I did not know that God was capable piling shit so high. Carrying a piece of shit like you throughout an entire match will just be a lot to work with. Think about it....you’re pretty fucking heavy and you just totally reek of shitty wrestling. Having you give me a decent run for my money when it comes to pure mat-skills, is just a wasteful thought all by itself, and is terribly wrong in so many ways. It’s even funny when you think about...actually, it is. Ha!
So you can go ahead and reunite your ass cheeks with James Raven’s dick, because we all know that he’s just going to fuck you up in that Taipei Death match anyway. That’s not even my opinion, that’s just an actual fact. My ability to take you seriously has been null and void, ever since I saw you first wrestle here in the company...which was a complete joke, waste of time, and a waste of people’s money. Walking around thinking you’re the best, when actually you’re the worst. Using weapons will make you a better opponent, because your skills are sloppy and terrible. Then hearing you speak just decreases your credibility as a human being. Just do me a favor and shut the fuck up. You might be doing everyone else a favor by trying to make me shut up, but it’s not going to work. I rather bore people to death, rather then being some drugged up retard who has nothing better to do with his life, than yell and scream. Do you really think that shit does any justice for you? I can scream and yell also. Allow me to demonstrate....
SPICE ONE, YOU’RE A FUCKING DOUCHEBAG! AND YOU CAN’T WRESTLE FOR JACK SHIT!!!
See...? Easy isn’t it? There’s a whole lot more where that came from. There’s something that’s just really terrible when I think about it, and it’s just when every time you speak. It’s like you commit a murder every time you decide to talk. When you do, a ninja comes out of the darkness and chops of the head of a poor little kitty. With that monstrosity of “Massive Retarded Speakage” of what you call a promo, that you just pulled out on me, I know for a fact that there’s a genocide of felines in Japan right now...so just think about the kitties the next time you decide to speak.
Really...who the fuck cares about how brutal and evil you are? You really think saying that was going to impress me, or get me all shook up, like it would a Impact jerk off? No sir, you’re failing with your little mind games once again. You may have had Kore and Cyren fooled, but you ain’t got shit on me. First of all, let me get on those two real quick, since they seem to know you so well. First of all Kore is just another simple minded douchebag...like you.. Who was on top of the world and had the audacity to piss all over it because he got “bored” with it. Truth is, Kore couldn’t handle being at the top, and neither can you. Since the Canadian Championship is the “stepping stone” of making it to the top, you’re not even close of even getting there, because you can’t even get over on me with your pathetic “mind games”. Then you get on your knees and blow Cyren like he’s some God...bitch please. Cyren is just as retarded as you are! He might have told you about these “mind game”, but your ability to put those “games” into good use is faltering fast. Your simple minded ass, can’t even fathom the level I’m on. Yet alone comprehend half of the shit that I am saying. You and everyone else in the XWF for that matter...so how about you go and practice your little “mind games” on someone who isn’t smarter, and better, than you? Write that one down....
Yes, you go do that...but you don’t really have that much time, because you have someone’s mouth to shut up....and who could that be? Oh yea, it’s me!! So try and do what Chad, Sam Hain, Lunatic, and various others, thinks you can do. Yes...I’m naming the people who want me to finally shut up. Just the obvious ones of course...but just realize that you’re not doing them any favors by trying to shut me up. You have to actually get the job...which is something you can’t do. And that is where your problems come to light. Chad tried...he failed...miserably. Then had to audacity to go and cry about it. Don’t be a bitch and cry after I beat your ass in the middle of the ring. It will really make you look like the true “Spice Cunt”, that I think you are...nah, not think....the “Spice Cunt” that I KNOW you are. So prove me wrong Spice. Show me that your at least better than Chad, personally, and professionally. Take your ass whooping like a true clown. Get a sad face, hop on a unicycle, and hop your bitch ass to the back and except defeat like everyone else has!
So from mortal to “Immortal”, and peasant to “King”. How many people praise you....? This is the part where the crickets come in....so don’t worry I can wait for your response later. So if I’m just a mere mortal, and your Immortal, then why get so worked up going against me? Since you’re the Immortal, shouldn’t I be the one getting worked up, getting overly excited, then prematurely ejaculating all over myself? The obvious answer that is would be a yes...but this Maximus you’re talking to, so the answer is no. This sudden Superiority Complex that you have developed over me, just makes look even more like a jackass. So the moment I meet you “King”, that’ll be the moment everyone will witness an assassination. I’ll bow to you the moment you die of a horrible death, and have the maggots eat at your rotten corpse. Then you’ll get my praise, as I will be happy enough to know that you know longer roam this, plaguing us with your miserable and pathetic life!
No how do I keep going on about you without repeating myself? As you blatantly repeated yourself on more than one occasion, saying the same shit, over and over again. Just wording in different ways so that you can drag out your entire promo. Trying to take that title from me too? Being to just talk, and talk, up to no avail? First you want my Canadian Championship, and then you want to go ahead and just brag about absolute garbage that just makes people get dumber and dumber as they listened to every single word that came out of your mouth. Sure you might say the same thing about me...everyone has said it about me. The difference between you and me, is that my IQ score isn’t 55.
So I’m talking shit you now, and what the fuck are you going to do about it? Beat me up? Make me wish I never gotten in the ring with you? Those are the answers that you are going to respond with, that I know for a fact for sure. You’re predictable man...before I even decide to listen to your promo’s I know for a fact, that there’s going to be yelling, screaming, dick, weed and fart jokes, sad clown stories and the same shit being said over again. So what, no party balloons for the kids? So disappointing, that’s basically the only thing that would actually have me entertained from your 6th grade level speeches.
So you do something for yourself Spice...and most importantly something for me. Get a life, get a brain, get some wrestling skills, pass a junior high school literacy test, and then you can come tell me about I should do with myself. I’ll continue to have my problems...when I notice that I have them, and will come after you when I feel like it. You’re nothing to me dude...just a fucking joke. I can say that, and make a minimal amount of people sick to their stomachs here, but you make people want to commit suicide. I know James Raven wants to kill himself every time he hears you speak of his name. If I make people so sick, then they don’t they just all fucking die then...? Then that would be me committing murder with the words that I say. Don’t take it in a negative light...I’ll just be doing my good deed for this company. The world would be better off without people like you or Chad alive...it’ll really make me happy if this was to happen.
It seems that someone likes pain, or likes to dish out the pain. You see, guys like you like to run their mouths, just because they can swing a chair or two. Let’s just see how well you can take what I dish out. I know, I know, you don’t really think nothing of it, but that’s what I want you do. Don’t think nothing of me, and what I can do, then you’ll quickly realize that I can decimate your fat ugly ass as fast you can say “below me”. Now say that fast three times....
Okay...did it? If you get the hint, than I’m impressed. You are smarter than the average clown! Yay for you! But just realize this Spice, you most certainly are below me, and then after I’m done having my way with you on Sunday, you can most definitely blow me. I gladly appreciate those who like to swallow...thank you very much.
Then what’s this shit about handing me my ass on a silver platter? That’s a little lame don’t you think? Yes...the Lamest Canadian Champion of all time is calling the “King” Spice lame. It is true...you fucking suck don’t dude....no wait. You don’t suck, you way past and beyond. You fucking swallow, giant chunks of Elephant cum. So you handing me my ass on a silver platter...not impressive. I got something better in mind, and it’s something that I’m going to do. I’m going rip your nuts off, cut it up, chop it up, and feed it to you, so that you’ll be able to choke on it. That’ll just show you how it feels to get humiliated by someone who’s on a much higher magnitude than you...
Then you being the Canadian Champion will be more than “Revolutionary”. It will be a complete gutter fuck to championship division itself. As the title went from Centurion, to Steve Jason, to Lee Stone, to Darkhan, to Me, then to you? You see anything wrong with that? Not because I’m on that list...I’m quite phenomenal, thank you very much. We all know that you holding this title would just be a total fuck up within the system itself! You have no credible wrestling talent, and you have no desire to defend it proudly against anyone and everyone who challenges you for it! Sure you want it, as you think it looks great on you, but that’s not why you become a champion, you dumb fuck! You become a champion because you show everyone that you are, to some degree, one of the best wrestlers in the entire company. Which is what I am, and your not. You had that privilege three times this year, and those three times, you made yourself an embarrassment. I absolutely, and positively refuse to let you do that to MY precious Canadian Title. You may have won your gold before from, um...nobodies...and defended them against people who were better than you, and then you lost. We all know that Big Shank was better you, but come on dude...two times in a row? Such a disappointment...
Now onto the topic of showmen...isn’t that what you are? There you go sounding like a hypocrite yet once again! You’re the one who’s the Sports-Entertainer around here, not me. No, no, not I. You have everyone around here fooled thinking that you’re this great and talent performer, when really you simply suck. Zach Rizza said I sucked, and look what happened to him? His ass was laid out on the floor in the middle of the ring...he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about, and it’s obvious that you don’t neither. Before you go ahead and scream and say something retarded like, “YOU DON’T KNOW BE TALKIN BOUT MAXI-FUCK!”. Just realize that your dealing with someone who is way better than you, and will always be better than you. In every shape and form. When I say someone sucks...they fucking suck. You sucked ever since the moment you decided to put on a pair of boots and call yourself Krazzy Kidd...he may be “away”, but you’ll always be that douchebag known as Krazzy Kidd to me. Your simply a Sports-Entertainer, nothing more, nothing less. And you’re going to get what you deserve.
Which is why people forget about you, and why people don’t give two shit’s about you. Yes, no one gives a shit about me, yet I’m the one that’s not going around trying to mingle with everyone, and trying to be the cool guy backstage. I keep to myself because I don’t like any of you...especially you Spice. I can’t stand to be around you just for the mere fact that you just are worthless sag of shit, who has nothing better to do than talk all of the fucking time. I talk more in my pormo’s because that’s where it matters. You talk because you have nothing better else to with your pathetic life. So does this mean that I think that I am better than everyone? Hell fucking yeah I do! And I am way better than you’ll ever be...wait I said that already. You should just know it by now...if not now, then you’ll know it after Sunday comes to pass..
If I said it once, I’ll say it again...you’re a fucking joke. Let me scream it out, so you can understand it....YOU ARE A FUCKING JOKE! I’ve been making my little crack shots at you since 2004, when you thought you were doing something special. Nothing has changed...as you’re still an overrated, incompetent performer, who lacks the sanity of a normal man. Even when you were Krazzy Kidd, even he was an overly used, washed up, pathetic version of Yucko the Clown. Don’t know him...look him up, he’ll be worth your time. That clown is more entertaining than you’ll ever be.
And what fucking grade are we in? Kindergarten...“my breath stinks like all high hell”? Interesting, coming from a pot head who’s smells like just eight cans of shark shit! Who the fuck are you be watching me anyway? Wanna “below me”...say it fast... Or do you want me to kick your ass so bad that you won’t even remember it? I think that’s what it is, and that’s what’s going to be done. It’s like you’re the retard who got excepted by the jocks, and they only keep you around because you amuse them. They find you funny, and not because they laugh with you, they laugh at you. So if anyone that needs to get fucked up, it’s you! Brutally and savagely, and by no ends should anyone stop until your on the brink of death. I’m going to take great pride in doing this and make you my bitch. Call me a bitch all you want, but you will be mine. I hate clowns, I hate wiggas, and hate people who can’t back up their shit in a real fight, against real men. So kicking your ass is going to be triple times the fun.
Really..your like a fucking child that’s starved for attention, and begs people to give you, what you want. You want the Canadian title? Well you’re not getting it! You want me to give you some answers? Well you’re not getting it either! All you’re going to be getting is my fist colliding with that ugly face of yours, and making you realize that I am the last person that you want to fuck with. Oh, but I can and will fuck with you, as much as I want too. I will antagonize, and patronize you, until you just have enough and fight me to the very end. Which I know you’ll do, because regardless of how stupid you are, your tiny balls give you the strength to fight back. Even though you’ll fight...you’re still going to lose.
Then what? My settings aren’t colorful enough for you? Go watch a fucking Care Bears movie then, you pussy! Go suck off each and every last one of the Rainbow Rangers while your at it. Maybe they can bust some color cum in your eyes and make you see clearer, and think like a normal human being. So I am a fucked upped individual, and like being that way. I like talking to the mirror, because it puts me in the right direction to fuck idiots like you up! Are these the answers that you wanted? How about you give me some answers...which I know you will. Tell me, why are you so fucking retarded? Mommy drop you on the head or something? Oh wait...she did the whole incest thing...sorry about that man. I’m also sorry about not coming prepared for a loss. I actually know that I am going to win this match. How do I figure? Because I’m going up against you! Just know that you’re going up against a man who will wrestle until his body breaks down from all of the impact and intensity, that no man can handle. It won’t be because you beat me to a pulp...that will never happen. Just face me and prove me wrong. Give me what I’ve been dying for, for so long...give me a great match, and give me a great victory. From what I’m hearing, you can only give me decent...but since it’s you Cunt, then I guess I can settle for that.
Oh man...I don’t know who the hell you are really trying to fool here, and frighten. It definitely isn’t me. If you say that you weren’t trying to do that, then you’re bullshitting me and the everyone else who listened to your shitty promo. You have no charisma, and there is nothing that should be fearful about you. You literally made me laugh throughout your entire promo...thank you for the great laugh...I really appreciate it Spice. Saying your little nursery rhymes aren’t going to get you anywhere, in the ring, in my mind, or life in general. So how about you do us all a favor and give up on life? That will make us all happy. Surely, me dying will make a few people ecstatic, but who the fuck cares about them? And who the fuck cares about you? No one cares about me, and I will like to keep it that way. I love it that way, and I loved it when no one pays attention to me. I just so happen to be fortunate enough to have your full and undivided attention, and then when we get in the ring, I’ll get your ever so loving affection. With a lackluster performance. So I’m waiting for you, and I want you. I can’t wait to get in the ring with you and show everyone how much you suck. Call me crazy, but I think I’m quite sane. So just know that I won’t run away from you. I will not run and hide a child who might be afraid of your mask. Just that I will come running to you! So you just need to take your head out of your ass, and stop thinking that I fear you, or need to fear. Your words don’t mean shit, because it’s as if they’re empty and stale. Just like your in-ring performances.
Just a little FYI, when we had our little dispute backstage, when you challenged James Raven, I wasn’t trying to fully rain on your parade. You can get your World title shot, I don’t care. But I only James, and that’s it. Who’s to be sure that he’s even going to be beat Shank? You couldn’t do it. You think that your old homie can do something that you couldn’t? Actually he can do a lot of things that you can’t....like give a great match, and give me something more interesting to malign you with. The World will come later for me...I just want to beat the best that’s out there, and James is the one...not you. And he already know’s this. That’s he booked this match, knowing that I will walk all over you, exposing you for the little bitch that you truly are.
Now one last thing, then I’m going to go. If I suck as the Canadian Champion...then what makes you think you’re going to be any better? You want to walk around a flaunt the title in front of everyone, just to say “Hey I beat Maximus...Yay!”? Is just going to be a little tool that you can use as an astray when you decide to toke up and get high? Which ever question you want to answer, which ever question you choose to answer, is just wrong on so many levels. You’re not worthy of being a champion...a Canadian or World Champion at that! Just for the mere that you only want it to show off, and flaunt in front of the people who thinks that you are better than me. And for the last time...you’re not, and you never will be. I will gladly prove that on any given day, at any given time.
So next time, come up with some better, and some original material. The whole BORING thing, is starting to get boring itself. Stop wearing a mask a be a real fucking man, stop yelling like a little faggot, and talk like a real man. Go back to wrestling school and learn how to wrestle...fuck that..just go back to school period. So join the line of everyone else that hates me, and then maybe you all can “below me”, and you all can be below me...but then again, you already are. Just like your miserable, and pathetic GM Chad. He couldn’t beat me, and neither can you...and it will be proven.
You put your Front, and you did it well. I never had a Front, but you couldn’t tell. You really are dumb fuck, didn’t you know? My victory, and your lost, will be Carved in Stone.
