Post by Derek Brooks on Aug 7, 2017 4:37:51 GMT
Two tough losses ain’t enough to put this sum bitch down, no sir. He trains harder than anyone else on the roster. He cracks sarcastic yet insulting remarks at the drop of a hat, and he’ll bang your sister in a moments notice, assuming of course she’s a cute girl and not some fat hermaphrodite...yes, I’m body shaming, but he’d never let you think that he himself would do such a thing...he’s the man who is “Destined for Greatness” and this week that means slapping the piss out of James Gilmore until he makes him a Democrat; he is...DEREK BROOKS!
And while yes, those two losses against the then Imperial Champion, and then Number One Contender were sure to put a dent in his momentum, he’s still in the gym pumping iron, and he’s managed to take a slight bit of time from his schedule to address the masses.
He’s doing it...from a makeshift...podium?
I the man destined for greatness stand before you as a man running against a man in the squared circle that is an IWF ring, in a manner that will result in my boot up his ass.
There’s an audible cheer as if there were people standing in front of him. We then cut to a video of a sports team’s championship parade to symbolize just how many people are there, only to cut back to Derek at the podium, in the empty gym.
The man I run against is nothing more than a scum sucking piece of gutter trash, who believes his own shit, and probably eats it too. He also carries this cute little blonde bitch around with him in one of those carrier bags like he’s Paris Hilton.
That bitch runs her mouth until there’s really nothing left to say, she then hits the rewind button on her blouse and spouts all that said bullshit over again, hoping that your earplugs fell out so that you actually have to listen to her stupidity the second time around.
I, Derek Brooks, if elected, and by elected I mean I beat that Gilmore ass red, promise to end this non-sense. I promise to make that yapping little dog eat her words, lick up the mess and then go hide in a deep dark hole until the end of time.
If I win, I will also show the world what a diverse but unified nation can do as they cheer me on in the Heir to the Throne, but more importantly, cheer me on as I slap the taste out of my opponent's mouth.
He turns to the camera in front of the podium.
Any questions?
Any chance we see you win the Heir to the Throne, using the momentum gained in this match?
What kind of stupid question is that? Take your ass and walk out of the room as I give you a one word answer...YES!
Is there a chance that Gilmore and his representative will un-nerve you with any of their fake news remarks, or claims of making the IWF great again?
He chuckles a bit. I would too.
Let me answer your question...with a question you bowtie wearing nerd. If a man was never great, how could he himself make something great? The answer? He can’t. The last time this pompous wannabe politician opened his mouth and my name came out of it, or he touched his fingers to a keyboard and mentioned my name, I smacked the shit out of him, and made him cry in front of the entire world, and this time will be no different.
There’s a roar of more questions but Derek holds his hands in the air.
That’s enough of the questions folks. Remember...cheer me on as I kick his ass, and together...we will indeed make it happen.
There’s applause as Derek walks off the stage and the camera ends up right in his face.
You again. Good. Listen, and listen good Gilmore, because I’m only going to say this all once, and unlike that walking recording that follows you everywhere, I don’t feel the need to repeat myself.
Your representative mentioned my name. She talked a whole bunch of crap, just like she did before. Then, like before, her words, they’ve gotten your punkass in trouble. So you, and the bitch are going to stand across that ring from me. I’m going to slap you across the mouth, and like the bitch you are, you’re going to say thank you. I’m then going to lift you in the air and drive you into the mat, driving all the wind from your lungs, and as you lay there, looking up at the lights, you will again say...thank you.
I will then take your legs, twist them like a pretzel in the center of that ring, and watch you tap like a drunk man. I will win the match, I will take my Heir to the Throne points, and I will move on, hopefully, you will then do the same because quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of hearing you and her. I’m quite frankly sick of looking at you. Honestly James, and I never thought I was going to say this...I’m sick of whipping your ass.
Move on to greener pastures or the next time we fight, I’ll take you out back and treat you like Old Yeller.
He walks off, out of the scene, the applause still heard from the...music player? Is this thing on a loop?
CUT
THINGS JUST GOT SERIOUS: PART 7 - SABOTAGE
My phone rang and I picked it up from the table near my couch. I was waiting for the call and when it rang, I sprang to life, lifting it to my ear. ”Hello? Yeah man, what’s up? Uh-huh. Got it. Where?”
I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and started writing things down. ”Uh-huh. When? Got it. Thanks a lot man. I owe you.”
I hung up the phone and grabbed the piece of paper describing the time, place, and type of job for that weekend, and it was time to strike. I grabbed my phone and called Bret. ”Round up the boys, we gotta talk.”
Hanging up the phone, I stood from the couch and started prep work on a board I had bought recently to organize things. I tagged the paper to the board and started jotting down notes of the ins and outs of this sort of operation.
A half hour had gone by, and I had setup a pretty impressive set of notes and diagrams, very similar to that of which you’d see on one of those cop shows on television. There was a knock at my door, and I walked over, checking first, and then letting in the group. They looked a little taken aback, but they walked in anyway. Bret pointed at my board. ”What’s all this?”
I turned to the board and pointed. ”This is our first act against Shane.” I turned to the group. ”Pick a spot and have a seat. This is going to take a minute.”
They did as told and I stood up in front of them. ”I told you we were going to strike, and my guy on the inside has told me that this construction crew hasn’t been paying his dues to Shane for the last three months and that Shane was sending a little task force of sorts to scare them into talking, if not collecting there and then. I’ve been a part of a few of these so-called teams and I know how they’re going to roll.”
I pointed to the address. ”This is a scrapyard, the headquarters of the construction crew is within this area, and this is where we’re going to hide out. Bret and I will be going over there today to talk to the owners, and let them know what’s headed their way, and how we’re going to make sure it won’t happen.”
One of the crew spoke up. ”And they’re just going to let us hang out?”
I pointed at him with a smile. ”You damn right they are. They don’t want to pay that fat piece of shit anymore than the rest of you did. If we tell them that we’re going to protect them, and for free...they’ll be on it like white on rice.”
Another of the crew spoke up. ”And how are you going to convince them?”
I pointed to my smile. ”With this charming face of course.”
The guys all laughed as I pointed back to the board. ”I’ve written down everything I can think of about these jobs and how they’re carried out. I’ve also come up with a plan, but we’ll discuss that more after me and Bret talk to the owners to establish more of a situational plan. We’ll gather at the site the day before and go through a walkthru. Saturday is the big day, and we all need to be ready. Got it?”
In unison they agreed and stood up from their seats. ”It’s about time someone took the fight to that stupid son of a bitch, and you can’t bet your asses we’re going to win.”
And while yes, those two losses against the then Imperial Champion, and then Number One Contender were sure to put a dent in his momentum, he’s still in the gym pumping iron, and he’s managed to take a slight bit of time from his schedule to address the masses.
He’s doing it...from a makeshift...podium?
I the man destined for greatness stand before you as a man running against a man in the squared circle that is an IWF ring, in a manner that will result in my boot up his ass.
There’s an audible cheer as if there were people standing in front of him. We then cut to a video of a sports team’s championship parade to symbolize just how many people are there, only to cut back to Derek at the podium, in the empty gym.
The man I run against is nothing more than a scum sucking piece of gutter trash, who believes his own shit, and probably eats it too. He also carries this cute little blonde bitch around with him in one of those carrier bags like he’s Paris Hilton.
That bitch runs her mouth until there’s really nothing left to say, she then hits the rewind button on her blouse and spouts all that said bullshit over again, hoping that your earplugs fell out so that you actually have to listen to her stupidity the second time around.
I, Derek Brooks, if elected, and by elected I mean I beat that Gilmore ass red, promise to end this non-sense. I promise to make that yapping little dog eat her words, lick up the mess and then go hide in a deep dark hole until the end of time.
If I win, I will also show the world what a diverse but unified nation can do as they cheer me on in the Heir to the Throne, but more importantly, cheer me on as I slap the taste out of my opponent's mouth.
He turns to the camera in front of the podium.
Any questions?
Any chance we see you win the Heir to the Throne, using the momentum gained in this match?
What kind of stupid question is that? Take your ass and walk out of the room as I give you a one word answer...YES!
Is there a chance that Gilmore and his representative will un-nerve you with any of their fake news remarks, or claims of making the IWF great again?
He chuckles a bit. I would too.
Let me answer your question...with a question you bowtie wearing nerd. If a man was never great, how could he himself make something great? The answer? He can’t. The last time this pompous wannabe politician opened his mouth and my name came out of it, or he touched his fingers to a keyboard and mentioned my name, I smacked the shit out of him, and made him cry in front of the entire world, and this time will be no different.
There’s a roar of more questions but Derek holds his hands in the air.
That’s enough of the questions folks. Remember...cheer me on as I kick his ass, and together...we will indeed make it happen.
There’s applause as Derek walks off the stage and the camera ends up right in his face.
You again. Good. Listen, and listen good Gilmore, because I’m only going to say this all once, and unlike that walking recording that follows you everywhere, I don’t feel the need to repeat myself.
Your representative mentioned my name. She talked a whole bunch of crap, just like she did before. Then, like before, her words, they’ve gotten your punkass in trouble. So you, and the bitch are going to stand across that ring from me. I’m going to slap you across the mouth, and like the bitch you are, you’re going to say thank you. I’m then going to lift you in the air and drive you into the mat, driving all the wind from your lungs, and as you lay there, looking up at the lights, you will again say...thank you.
I will then take your legs, twist them like a pretzel in the center of that ring, and watch you tap like a drunk man. I will win the match, I will take my Heir to the Throne points, and I will move on, hopefully, you will then do the same because quite frankly, I’m sick and tired of hearing you and her. I’m quite frankly sick of looking at you. Honestly James, and I never thought I was going to say this...I’m sick of whipping your ass.
Move on to greener pastures or the next time we fight, I’ll take you out back and treat you like Old Yeller.
He walks off, out of the scene, the applause still heard from the...music player? Is this thing on a loop?
CUT
THINGS JUST GOT SERIOUS: PART 7 - SABOTAGE
My phone rang and I picked it up from the table near my couch. I was waiting for the call and when it rang, I sprang to life, lifting it to my ear. ”Hello? Yeah man, what’s up? Uh-huh. Got it. Where?”
I grabbed a piece of paper and pen and started writing things down. ”Uh-huh. When? Got it. Thanks a lot man. I owe you.”
I hung up the phone and grabbed the piece of paper describing the time, place, and type of job for that weekend, and it was time to strike. I grabbed my phone and called Bret. ”Round up the boys, we gotta talk.”
Hanging up the phone, I stood from the couch and started prep work on a board I had bought recently to organize things. I tagged the paper to the board and started jotting down notes of the ins and outs of this sort of operation.
A half hour had gone by, and I had setup a pretty impressive set of notes and diagrams, very similar to that of which you’d see on one of those cop shows on television. There was a knock at my door, and I walked over, checking first, and then letting in the group. They looked a little taken aback, but they walked in anyway. Bret pointed at my board. ”What’s all this?”
I turned to the board and pointed. ”This is our first act against Shane.” I turned to the group. ”Pick a spot and have a seat. This is going to take a minute.”
They did as told and I stood up in front of them. ”I told you we were going to strike, and my guy on the inside has told me that this construction crew hasn’t been paying his dues to Shane for the last three months and that Shane was sending a little task force of sorts to scare them into talking, if not collecting there and then. I’ve been a part of a few of these so-called teams and I know how they’re going to roll.”
I pointed to the address. ”This is a scrapyard, the headquarters of the construction crew is within this area, and this is where we’re going to hide out. Bret and I will be going over there today to talk to the owners, and let them know what’s headed their way, and how we’re going to make sure it won’t happen.”
One of the crew spoke up. ”And they’re just going to let us hang out?”
I pointed at him with a smile. ”You damn right they are. They don’t want to pay that fat piece of shit anymore than the rest of you did. If we tell them that we’re going to protect them, and for free...they’ll be on it like white on rice.”
Another of the crew spoke up. ”And how are you going to convince them?”
I pointed to my smile. ”With this charming face of course.”
The guys all laughed as I pointed back to the board. ”I’ve written down everything I can think of about these jobs and how they’re carried out. I’ve also come up with a plan, but we’ll discuss that more after me and Bret talk to the owners to establish more of a situational plan. We’ll gather at the site the day before and go through a walkthru. Saturday is the big day, and we all need to be ready. Got it?”
In unison they agreed and stood up from their seats. ”It’s about time someone took the fight to that stupid son of a bitch, and you can’t bet your asses we’re going to win.”
Well howdy there pardner.