…the..rock star..chronicles…

Bravo, Bravo.

 At least a couple of guys where paying attention, that day in wrestling school then they where teaching about how to deliver an impacting promo. But my bright-eyed, bushy-tailed rookies your hoping to be the David that takes down this proverbial Goliath. But with my skills and style, I guess I just handed you all the proverbial knock out. The name of the game is " Invasion " you need to score a first round knock out to burry the other guy dead center of the ring, back in the day a mean right hook could get you far. You could be on top of the world, you danced the night away after partying at all hours of the night , for what? You only had the single hand to knock the other guy down with while the left was tied to a unit, but in this scenario a Team.  

What do you expect to leave with, after Invasion, to be the best and have all this experience to be considered a mere young’un, a fuckin’ out and out rookie, when compared to me? I would certainly hope your trying to beat me, I wouldn't waste my time trying for little or no vale.

I've been told this card has been stacked top to damn bottom. I really doubt that, some of my collogues I still hang around or have worked with have seen better. But hey, cheer up pal your only downfall is going to be when I punch your ass square in the face leaving you falling to the canvas. I have a bone to pick with a lot of you.  

The Cocaine King? are you sure you've taken any in your life. Because if you had you wouldn't be wrestling, why would you want to be known for such a deadly drug yet your still standing. Wait I know, you crave it you fucking crack addict. I thought guys like you couldn't wrestle, they just join a promotion all across the world these days, just to get a fix on what they crave. I really do envy you to a slight extent at least you have the hunger to work for something that's a total health risk. That you run around waving your fucking baggie in front of everybody's face, you got that stoned girlfriend of yours propped up ready to give out head almost every drop of a new dime bag for you. I bet you smack her around, abuse her like she's a fucking slave. She cries at night and sleeps with the guy next door because you don't give two fucking cents about her. 

But when that happens, you get fucking jealous. You get so fucking mad you make local house calls to the guy where she's been sleeping, afraid that she was creeping with him. Yea I've seen your type, so you think your king of everything you touch? I feel bad for you, I do regret I'm unable to step into the ring with you. Because If I was able to step even a couple seconds, hell even a full fucking minute I would have changed your life. You would have bee sitting' in rehab, then when she finally came to visit you to tell you she was pregnant, that she moved on with the gut next door. I bet you'd be crushed, find an alter religion to believe in. vow that one day everything would be alright? Heh life is like that sometimes. 

But your not the only one, your not the only reason I've decided to speak up. 

The Minister, I've dealt with your kind for years. Gothic, Satanic believers in the Anti-Christ I seen this and heard about this time and time again. My question is, do you really believe in it Have you ever beat a girl to death to satisfy your higher powers? Wait.. let me answer that for you, " No. " No you haven't you haven't the warped mind enough to do something as sadistic and bastardly as that.  I can tell your not  as diabolic and demented as you thought, I never seen creature form the darkest corners of the depths of hell lead a team to victory, or what would be soon bitter defeat. 

But I too wish I was heading Team United Wrestling Entertainment, against you. I'd rather enjoy making a mockery of what you call yourself, The Minister who proclaims himself of the shadow douth wench he came. If we'd should fall to the depths of hell, I've beaten death not once but almost every time on rising ovation. As the song goes " I've been to hell and back, and I'm not done yet. " I'd cripple you I'd make it my goal, my life's mission to take you out and show you how someone with more sense about how the mind works handles problems, spooks like you.

Ramirez, Ramirez, Ramirez. How are you doing buddy, Are you having fun being a big boy and speaking like you have balls? I sure hope so. C'mon you think because you think you've won a title that I'd be afraid of you, or maybe it was that you had a title and Team United Wrestling Entertainment was going to fold? speaking on behalf of the whole damn world, who gives a shit? You might as well join The Cocaine King, have yourself a good ol' time molesting his wife beating the shit out of her, then when you get done. You go down to fucking México where you think your safe marry tons of six year old girls and do the same. Not like you have brains enough not to know that you can't run your mouth with out getting socked in it.

But I do have to applaud you on something, you do live your life. Playing Mr. masked mystery man while bent over while some Iraq fucking terrorist bends over and loads you in the ass, but wait is that you screaming? The sound drives him wild you become all meaty and spongy and then you let go he begins to Fucking Rape your ass and you enjoy it. Sick..  

But, if I ever got into the ring with you. I'd teach you a lesson on how to shut your mouth, maybe even a little lesson on how to show respect for a promotion. I would come running my mouth on Total Carnage Television with out an Invite, because I did I bet your ass you wouldn't be able to stop me, so please take care of that mouth, before it gets put in check. 

Snake Ridge, last but not least eh? Well you'd end up playing punk to Ramirez and his ala raping ways. Not as easy as you thought was it.. 

Now, I should really speak about my opponent. 

Well, who the fuck cares what I have to say about him? 

Haven't seen him on Television, so that makes him safe at least until our match. 

Total Carnage Wrestling, welcome to my world. 

Population numbero uno, 

Your about to be sent packing.. 

…the..rock star..chronicles…

 Knock Around Guys.

 It's funny. In a sad, sick sort of way. I had just saw a guy lose teeth after being socked in a face a couple of times. Yea life was funny like that, you got into fights you got hurt basic law of nature " Survival of the Strong " all that lead a stimulating, totally free life shit. I watched a fight, It held my interest but I watched form the farthest point of the room. I was located at the bar, they where crowded around them I could often see body parts, a stray elbow here and there an arm being jabbed somewhere. Vigorous isn't it? 

Soon, they became just distant memories of one another. Both guys, arms up swaying keeping what little stamina they had to remain standing.. It could be the way another person eyes them one evening at a club, or the way a stranger grazes their hand with holding a door open for them it's what ticks them off to punch each other in the face over and over jab after jab, hit after bone shattering hit. 

But I did have to admit something to myself, truthfully they must have enjoyed it more then I because they looked half asleep like they could fall straight to there knees deep within a coma or in each others arms. But what role did the spectator have to play? Ah yes the glorious spectator they held down the bets. Women used as a medical team, or corner men like this was the MGM grand Las Vegas baby. But it wasn't in the back of everybody's psyche there was a trigger animalistic incentive if you ask me, even I had it but it was hidden deep rooted but taking a look the fight was well worth the watch.

As I watched the Mystery Men fight it out, it had occurred to me. Watching the way they fought only took somewhat of a sick mind, watching human flesh become busted open to watch blood splatter, bones to break and brains to be damaged. It was form there I saw the whole fight change, soon as the first man wearing only a pair of tan rough riders jeans fell to his knees. 

The man who I thought couldn't win the fight became this beast, dwelling form deep inside. a slugging right fist colliding with high angled cheek bone the sound of the flesh popping, the skin playing baggie to the blood that fell out, bone that cracked face that was all but shattered. His Brethren, his fans his coalition that brought him to where he was in that very moment was defined.  

I saw him, clad in blood standing there the other there scrambling as well. Scrambling to stand on his own to feet only to get to his knees, snapping in and out of the loosened dream like state that he was banished to he couldn't find anything nor did he know where he was let alone how to fight. He was like a total child, having to be cared for but there was no caring in the merciless Then it truly was the beginning of the end, I liked stuff like that at least in the context they where happening or put in. 

With a thrown punch to the side of the temple, the trying to stand man fell down on his knee standing back up he was kicked in the head. I felt seriously bad considering the shot was heard, clenching off the bare skin of the fighter who slaughtered him with the Kick. 

I sat there, closing my eyes blinking and watching. I didn't move, but with the action so deep only thing I could was remove my hand every short while, taking a soothing sip of the rum that was supplied off the bar I paid every couple hours the fight lasted a good twelve-hours, but with debut so high what was his price for paying for being punished so fierce? It had to be so high that he was thrown to the wolves in the fight but desperately he fought out he climbed on his neck he bit him, he fought tooth and nail to stay alive only to have the advantage in the fight. 

He finally had done it, he pushed his hands to his neck as he then wove his arm under the others armpit pulling that same arm around his neck, using the free left one to choke him pulling the side of his neck ajar he choked on sweat, blood and whatever loose trash fell into his mouth. Dust would clear and crowd would become vengeful they where mad because the kid had heart, guts enough to defy what should have been a fucking slaughter. 

Paying Amish for being the victory, he stood up the young scruffy kid had won. He screamed and began freaking out human brain synopsis and human instinct  to live didn't help him anymore, I finished my glass they began throwing trash at him some of the guys who ran the show had began stomping the kid. I watched because this would be a good lesson, the lesson? Never trust someone who's out to sell you, to take your soul and sell it to the devil for parchment. 

They left him laying there and left the bar, only the owner and a couple of guys who felt sorry and had no money to pay for the serious beer drinking and free T-N-A stayed. I pulled my hand out of my pocket, sending it down to the broken lad, he had nothing left. He looked at me, easing up and releasing all fear in that same thinking he could trust me, since I had seen him trust someone before and count on that trust to still be there. I wouldn't have sucked what little life he had he.. 

" Welcome to the Underworld.. " I spoke, I couldn't say nothing more. 

I pocketed my hand, nodding to the bar owner to take care of the kid until I saw him next, which was me saying my good bye right then my buddy knew how to take care of him, his goal was to get him out of this life before it consumed him. I on the other hand had a different style, I let it take over ever part of my human psyche let it in rich me only to give me power. 

 But I was always told, the white devil is the devil you could trust.