Next Match: Bill Dynamite vs. Gabe Reno
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'pedro's wake'
The Number One Man The people that count are the people in the know. Those people know Bill Dynamite still has plenty left in him. Bill Dynamite is still a long term investment, I still have the heart and I still have the ability. Don’t give up on Dynamite yet. But when it comes to this match, I don’t need anybody. It’s just me and Gabe, in one ring, and that sends chills down my spine. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we’re not going to be running a marathon on Monday, we’re in a wrestling match. Gabe can run and show me his speed all he likes but the fact remains that when I get hold of Reno… I will tear him apart without a care. Let’s not forget that this pay per view is named after this match, State of Revenge is all about me getting my revenge on Gabe Reno, and it’s all your fault, Gabe. You started this, but I’ll finish it on Sunday. You made that decision to screw me out of the title, and that was big mistake number one.
The Number One Team Let’s be honest, gentlemen. Hayden Roberts will not beat Jason Anarchy for the Extreme Title. Hayden is still shaken up after I tore him to pieces last week. I thought Hayden was supposed to be a tough son of a bitch but he tapped out and cried for help in the figure four. If he can’t handle the heat in a normal singles match, against a man at half pace, as I was, how will he handle a hardcore son’bitch like Jason Anarchy? Answer: He won’t. In a TV Title match, XTC takes on The Legend and Cody Galle. Let’s knock the Legend out of the running for this match already; the man has been a shadow of his former self ever since he lost his BWF World Championship. This is the occasion where XTC finally gets to bury him and show the world that BWF took him for granted, and he is the superstar he says he is. XTC will shove these two aside and take the TV title back to EgoMania. Czecher then faces Adrian Dreamer and Reno Drake for the coveted Primetime Championship. A belt with such prestige and honour, that was until that fat piece of shit Blazenwing won it. Dreamer punched about his weight when he faced Jarvis and he’s doing it again against Czecher, but I’m not worried about Dreamer. I’d look at Drake as being the main opposition for Czecher. Well Drake, you made a pact with the devil and you couldn’t get the job done, son. You were beaten by Gabe Reno, despite all the crap and false promises you made beforehand. You failed your objective and when you fail on the devil, you will pay a terrible price, and that price is being dealt a cruel blow by my very own henchman, the false prophet, the constant gardener, the sultan of the shovel, Czecher. Czecher will be bring that gold back with him, just as XTC will. Then of course at the top of the bill, Cody Clark will lose spectacularly to my own brother, Lawrence Jarvis. Clark is good, I know that and I’m man enough to accept it, but I think we all know he doesn’t have that special ingredient that Jarvis has. Now Jarvis may be one of the biggest pieces of shit I’ve ever met in all my life but that doesn’t mean I can’t recognise his talent. The man is the top dog at the moment, he’s the world champ, but he has something other than that leather belt covered in gold, he has a special spark, something Cody Clark doesn’t have. Lawrence Jarvis will win at State Of Revenge and set up the 3rd meeting between him and… Me. I will destroy Gabe Reno like you all want me to do. I will send him packing because Gabe Reno is small fry and I have bigger fish to catch than that little maggot. I want Lawrence Jarvis versus Bill Dynamite III, to settle the score, which stands at one each. For the biggest prize of them all; the px:w World Heavyweight Championship. I want that match just as much as the box office wants it, just as much as Paul Reynolds wants it for all the PPV buys. The World wants to see it and the only thing that stands in the way is Gabe Reno, and I will not pass up this opportunity. So lets look at the scores. EgoMania - 03||00||00. The Dynasty – 01||01||00. Iconoclast – 00||03||00. Sorry Gabe, but you picked the wrong homies to hang with. That’s big mistake number two, isn’t it? You’re on a roll, man.
The Funeral After Father Giles says his short but sweet speech, I approach the alter to deliver my speech which I spent minutes preparing in the car coming up. It was a funeral car too, Dave and Rob were going to drive the coffin down in their van but they accidentally drove through a pig farm last night and the van is covered in shit. Not to mention, Dave and Rob have already devoured a bottle of Jack Daniels that was meant to be drank AFTER the ceremony. I open the little piece of paper and start to read to my waiting public. “Tequila, Nachos, Cerveza…” I stop for a second to revise. “Sorry everyone, that’s my shopping list.” I have a root around in my pockets and find nothing until I open up my wallet and find the speech nestled between two fifty pound notes. “It’s good to see such a great turn-out, thanks to all of you for coming out, all nine of you.” Myself, Father Giles, XTC, Czecher, his nurse Sally, Maud and Ethel – the two old bastards that live either side of me, Dave and of course Rob who’s hiccupping is reaching ridiculous levels of loudness. “I’d like to start by saying what a fantastic gardener Pedro was. The man LIVED and BREATHED gardening and thoroughly deserved the 3 pounds an hour I paid him. He was even nice enough to share all the wisdom he could to my son, Kevin, before passing, for Kevin will be his successor. Although Kevin may be thicker than a whale omelette, I truly believe he can follow in Pedro’s footsteps and be a wonderful gardener before going to university to study, oh I dunno… Star Wars or something geeky.” I pause for a moment, to catch my breath and check out some pubescent choirgirl. Bad Billy, Bad Billy, she’s totally underage. Although If there’s grass on the pitch, fuck the bitch… No… No.., Slimy Harry told me that and he’s doing twenty years. What the fuck was he thinking going into Mothercare in a leopard skin codpiece? “Pedro and I could always chat for hours, while he was scrubbing my back or picking up all the doggy shit that next-door-but-one keep leaving on my front lawn. If I’ve told them once, I’ve told them a thousand times, I apologise for taking a dump on their lawn, I was drunk, I was high and I was caught very short. As for the one that went through their letterbox well I have no idea how that got there. I digress, Pedro and I would always be talking and it was he that convinced me to spend time with my son, going golfing and such. It was Pedro that convinced me to sign for px:w full time and it was Pedro that told me that Gabe Reno would get the arse kicking of a life time. He said to me “Mr Dynamite, the world is a shitty place full of shitty people, and I want to die.” Obviously by shitty people he was referring to Gabe Reno, and dying was a metaphor for me beating Gabe Reno to within an inch of his life and ridding px:w of such a little scumbag. Well I thank you, Pedro, for being you. Here’s to Pedro Mendez.” I get a good clap from everyone except Maud and Ethel who should have sat at the front because their hearing aids are obviously either failing miserably or not even switched on as usual. “And now,” I begin, “Czecher, Mr Kodak Hespeler, would like to say a few words.” “I would?” Czecher says, surprised. “Yes, Czecher, you would. Remember in the car you said you had a very touching speech for Pedro?” I’m lying out of my arse; I just want to make an arse of Czecher – as if turning up with your psychiatric nurse isn’t embarrassing enough. “Oh… Yes…” I love Czecher’s wooden acting. “I remember now.” Czecher walks up to the alter and I give him a rapturous applause and smug look as I pass him and take my seat in the front row. “It’s great to be here.” Says Czecher, slightly blushing, not that anyone’s listening. “It’s been a blessing to get away from the shit-throwing fun at Shady Oaks for a little while. But more importantly it’s a pleasure to be here to celebrate the life of a great man…” “Ahem.” I correct him. “… of a good man…” “AHEM!” “… Of a man known as Pedro Sanchez.” “Mendez.” I correct him once more. “Mendez. This man had many talents. Nobody shined my boots or ironed my shirts like Pedro. Even though he was just a gardener he always helped out around the house, including knocking up Bill’s old cleaner Doris, who sadly can’t be here today she’s getting a new hip, bless her. But Pedro was a master around the house, a tremendous cleaner, I’ve never seen Bill’s arse wiped so thoroughly than under Pedro’s tenure. The man clearly had talent, but unfortunately his talents were talents that didn’t make an awful lot of money, but his employer’s talents do, and so Billy D has put on a wonderful service for Pedro today. I’m sure if Pedro were still with us, he’d thank Bill for such a beautiful service and for all he’s done over the years. Goodbye, old boy, we will never forget the name of Pedro Sanchez.” “Mendez.” “Mendez. Thank you.” Czecher says as he steps down and breathes a sigh of relief. I approach the alter one more time. “Ladies and Gentlemen, before I bring out this tremendous young band to play a song for Pedro, I’d like to say a few words, and those words are for Gabe Reno. Gabe, look at this wonderful service here today and see the near dozen people that sit and celebrate the life of a gardener. I want you to think forward to your own death, don’t worry it’s not too much of a stretch; I plan on making it this coming Monday but just think for a moment. When you die, who will give a fuck about you enough to come to your funeral? Will Cody Clark be there? Possibly. Although I’d like to think not, I think Cody, as pathetic as he may be, has better things to do with his life. Maybe bone is wife, the lovely Kimberly “Bury me in a ‘Y’ shaped coffin” Clark. Or maybe just sit and watch daytime TV. Will anyone from px:w come to your funeral? I think not, since you try so hard to alienate yourself from the group. I’d like you to think of yourself lying in your coffin, being lowered into the ground on a pissy winters day with the rain chucking it down, as the Vicar reads you your last rights, with nobody standing by your grave. Why won’t they be standing by your grave, Gabe? Because you’re a nobody now, and you’re destined to always be a nobody. Quote your record all you like, but it’s not a record that makes the man, Gabe. It’s the fucking stories that man can tell, and the only story you’ll have to tell as an old man is “I got so far up the ladder, but then Dynamite knocked me right back down to the bottom rung.” But don’t worry, Gabe, I might take time out from my busy schedule to come down to your graveside, unzip my jeans and take a piss right on your headstone which will read… blown away by Dynamite – July 31st 2006” XTC and Czecher rise to their feet and give me a stunning applause to which I bow and clap quietly back to show my appreciation. “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for…” I begin. “Especially you, Father Giles, I know you’re gonna love these. I bring to you, the number one Christian rock band in the UK, a band known only as Septic Anal Wound and their touching tribute He’s Fucking Dead. Four blokes come out from behind the curtain, dressed in full black leather cat suits, long black hair and red face-paint, complete with stick-on horns. They all give the horn sign to the audience as they pick up their electric guitars and turn the volume up to eleven. “Are you sure about this?” Asks Father Giles. “What am I stupid?” I ask him back. “How could I mess up ordering a band? It’s a piece of piss.” The drums kick in and Septic Anal Wound begin to play with a kick ass bass line, accompanied by an excellent rhythm guitar. The lead singer bangs his head with the beat before unleashing his screechy, high-pitched 80s rock voice.
When my Daddy died “See, told you they’d be alright.” I say to Father Giles, who doesn’t respond. “Father Giles? You there?” Still no response. “OK everybody, who wants some food, then?” I walk over to the buffet table and start to pile my plate; Father Giles slowly walks over to me and decides to talk. “Mr Dynamite,” He begins, still shaking. “I’ll forget about your course language and I’ll forget about the rock band, but please, for the sake of health and safety, please don’t use the coffin as a food stand.” “Oh get the fuck out of here, you’re all the same, you PC-brigade bastards. Well you can take your political correctness and shove it up your arse. Nazi.” I tell him, while chomping on a hot wing. Father Giles walks away and I hear a voice, a familiar voice. It can’t be, he’s dead. It can’t be Pedro. Damn that Czecher, his craziness must be contagious. “Mr Dynamite.” Pedro says. I check his lips through the open end of the coffin, they aren’t moving. “That was very nice, very touching. But can I ask of you two things?” “Of course, Pedro. Anything.” I reply. “Number One: Beat the hell out of Gabe Reno, I hate his punk ass.” He says. “Consider it done.” “Number Two: The punch bowl has a crack in it, it’s dripping through the casket and it looks like I’ve pissed myself. Could you take care of that?” “Don’t push it.” Idol out.
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