Post by Jason Cashe on Mar 15, 2022 6:24:07 GMT
"Let's try some Offense shall we?" Ducking through the ropes, Jason Cashe enters a ring. It was the same ring, same gym as before. Except there was only one training partner. This wasn't right. Cashe looks around. "Where is the other one?"
"Demon? I think he is still getting ready." The new sparring partner wasn't of great size. He had a shaved head and looked like he was right out of a Boy Band. We will call him Jonas. "Want me to go check the back?"
"I'm not paying him to play with paint…" Cashe mutters. The lights in the gym go dark, you can't see much at all but Jonas lets out a screeching cry as another voice rings out in an echo.
Through the dark comes a red glowing light. Now inside the ring, Jonas and Cashe were joined by another. A man with a painted face holding a rose.
Cashe slaps the flower out of his hand. "Get that shit out of here!" Yelling as he kicks the broken up rose out of the ring. "I said to mimic his in ring presence, not his douchery.." Shaking his head as he rounds the square circle. Cashe contemplates. "Let's just tussle.."
"It amazes me.. The number of people inside the walls of a given Kingdom who make claims at being the best in the world. People who wave their arms around and sing of their own praises like their side hustle is a Bard and we're all sitting around wanting to hear the melody of their own achievements! It truly strikes me as funny..
I could sit here and do the same but that's never been my bowl of wheaties. I don't need to sing my own praises because if you don't know what is in store for you then why am I going to give any of you an insight? If you have to sing your own praise, it's likely not worth a blow on a bagpipe. Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe Rob Diamond is TRULY the superintendent of pro wrestling. Maybe he is one of the best wrestlers in the world but my problem with that is that he is the ONLY throbbing asshole who is farting it into existence. So maybe, just maybe he is closer to coal than a Diamond? Oh and my sack? Hold out your hand, I'll let you hold it so you know what a real one feels like..
Then you have guys like James Gilmore and Mickey Jones. Both coming back after time away. Rob apparently loves him some James but to me? These returns are like bringing back a piece of the past but not really expecting anything more than filler. Hell, Mickey said it himself! He also fluffed his own dick saying how much he doesn't care but at the same time, flexing about his neighborhood and leaving everyone who messes with him laid out and bloody.. Good lord..
I've watched toddlers have more growl than that over not getting a toy they wanted! You know, my apologies, you rep your hood Mickey! And as leave it to beaver as it might be, I'm sure you're a Straight Menace like Dennis.. You fucking putz. Y'all just annoy me and it's making my big toe itch!"
Cashe comes into focus as he runs and launches Jonas over the ropes. "One down, one to go.." He says, brushing his hands together. Turning around, Cashe sees the painted face man just staring at him. "That's not creepy.."
"Oh my gawd! Shut up!!" Cashe cuts him off as he rushes the man. They had worked up a sweat so the man's face paint was running. Cashe puts him in a standing side headlock and begins rubbing the slippery paint from face to fingers to the eyes of the painted figure. "Bet that shit burns don't it?"
Cashe jumps up and sits down, delivering a Bulldog to the man who called himself Demon. "There has to be someone more challenging to train with…" Cashe said with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
"You know.. I want to believe that the isolated, hardly exposed IWF has some talent. I want to believe that Tara didn't just upsell the people who make things happen here. Belief is a fickle thing though. People believe in Religion. What I truly believe is that I am not just here to win a Roulette match. I am not just here to find a shortcut to the top. I have purpose, I have cause to be here. Wraith knows, Ulf knows, JC Keeton knows..
I am here to sully their names further than I already have. I did so not needing to be in IWF to do it but on their home turf? I am an outsider, an invader of your HOME and I plan to take everything from each of you if you cross me in this match. Not because I need to or that you are the biggest names to make a fool of, no, it is simply because it entertains me to ridicule the lot of you.. So why not do it to your face where you are most comfortable?"
"Get up!" Cashe calls out as Demon slowly rises using the ropes for balance. "Hey Wraith, take notes!" His words cause Demon's eyes to widen as Cashe launches towards him, field goal kicking the Demon to the Forbidden Fruit! As he buckles at the knees, Demon begins to fall back through the ropes. Cashe grabs him and corrects his exit.
"No, you gotta flop OVER the ropes! Over.. Like this!"
Scurrying back, Cashe snaps forward and barrels into Demon with a clothesline that puts him up and stumbling backwards over the ropes and crashing to the outside.
"Ding. Ding. I win!" Throwing his hands up in the air, Cashe begins jogging around the ring in celebration. "Crowd goes wild!" He says before making a sound that sounds like a faded cheer from the fans. "Aaaahhhh!"
"Stop right there!" A voice grabs his attention as it echoes through the gym. Cashe turns until he finds the pair of eyes staring back at him. "I want next!"
"Yeaaah.. No you don't, not really!" Cashe laughed. The man was wearing a foam Championship with 'IWF' written on it in marker as he steps towards the ring. "Please let me slap this fool for a THIRD time!"
"Demon? I think he is still getting ready." The new sparring partner wasn't of great size. He had a shaved head and looked like he was right out of a Boy Band. We will call him Jonas. "Want me to go check the back?"
"I'm not paying him to play with paint…" Cashe mutters. The lights in the gym go dark, you can't see much at all but Jonas lets out a screeching cry as another voice rings out in an echo.
"BASK IN MY LIGHT…"
"My Desires…"
"My Needs…"
"My Desires…"
"My Needs…"
Through the dark comes a red glowing light. Now inside the ring, Jonas and Cashe were joined by another. A man with a painted face holding a rose.
"A Rose for my Lov–"
Cashe slaps the flower out of his hand. "Get that shit out of here!" Yelling as he kicks the broken up rose out of the ring. "I said to mimic his in ring presence, not his douchery.." Shaking his head as he rounds the square circle. Cashe contemplates. "Let's just tussle.."
========
"It amazes me.. The number of people inside the walls of a given Kingdom who make claims at being the best in the world. People who wave their arms around and sing of their own praises like their side hustle is a Bard and we're all sitting around wanting to hear the melody of their own achievements! It truly strikes me as funny..
I could sit here and do the same but that's never been my bowl of wheaties. I don't need to sing my own praises because if you don't know what is in store for you then why am I going to give any of you an insight? If you have to sing your own praise, it's likely not worth a blow on a bagpipe. Maybe I'm wrong.
Maybe Rob Diamond is TRULY the superintendent of pro wrestling. Maybe he is one of the best wrestlers in the world but my problem with that is that he is the ONLY throbbing asshole who is farting it into existence. So maybe, just maybe he is closer to coal than a Diamond? Oh and my sack? Hold out your hand, I'll let you hold it so you know what a real one feels like..
Then you have guys like James Gilmore and Mickey Jones. Both coming back after time away. Rob apparently loves him some James but to me? These returns are like bringing back a piece of the past but not really expecting anything more than filler. Hell, Mickey said it himself! He also fluffed his own dick saying how much he doesn't care but at the same time, flexing about his neighborhood and leaving everyone who messes with him laid out and bloody.. Good lord..
I've watched toddlers have more growl than that over not getting a toy they wanted! You know, my apologies, you rep your hood Mickey! And as leave it to beaver as it might be, I'm sure you're a Straight Menace like Dennis.. You fucking putz. Y'all just annoy me and it's making my big toe itch!"
========
Cashe comes into focus as he runs and launches Jonas over the ropes. "One down, one to go.." He says, brushing his hands together. Turning around, Cashe sees the painted face man just staring at him. "That's not creepy.."
"I WILL reclaim my place in the Pinnacle of Pro Wre–"
"Oh my gawd! Shut up!!" Cashe cuts him off as he rushes the man. They had worked up a sweat so the man's face paint was running. Cashe puts him in a standing side headlock and begins rubbing the slippery paint from face to fingers to the eyes of the painted figure. "Bet that shit burns don't it?"
"I am not liking this, no…"
"I am a God…"
"I am a God…"
Cashe jumps up and sits down, delivering a Bulldog to the man who called himself Demon. "There has to be someone more challenging to train with…" Cashe said with a hint of disappointment in his voice.
========
"You know.. I want to believe that the isolated, hardly exposed IWF has some talent. I want to believe that Tara didn't just upsell the people who make things happen here. Belief is a fickle thing though. People believe in Religion. What I truly believe is that I am not just here to win a Roulette match. I am not just here to find a shortcut to the top. I have purpose, I have cause to be here. Wraith knows, Ulf knows, JC Keeton knows..
I am here to sully their names further than I already have. I did so not needing to be in IWF to do it but on their home turf? I am an outsider, an invader of your HOME and I plan to take everything from each of you if you cross me in this match. Not because I need to or that you are the biggest names to make a fool of, no, it is simply because it entertains me to ridicule the lot of you.. So why not do it to your face where you are most comfortable?"
========
"Get up!" Cashe calls out as Demon slowly rises using the ropes for balance. "Hey Wraith, take notes!" His words cause Demon's eyes to widen as Cashe launches towards him, field goal kicking the Demon to the Forbidden Fruit! As he buckles at the knees, Demon begins to fall back through the ropes. Cashe grabs him and corrects his exit.
"No, you gotta flop OVER the ropes! Over.. Like this!"
Scurrying back, Cashe snaps forward and barrels into Demon with a clothesline that puts him up and stumbling backwards over the ropes and crashing to the outside.
"Ding. Ding. I win!" Throwing his hands up in the air, Cashe begins jogging around the ring in celebration. "Crowd goes wild!" He says before making a sound that sounds like a faded cheer from the fans. "Aaaahhhh!"
"Stop right there!" A voice grabs his attention as it echoes through the gym. Cashe turns until he finds the pair of eyes staring back at him. "I want next!"
"Yeaaah.. No you don't, not really!" Cashe laughed. The man was wearing a foam Championship with 'IWF' written on it in marker as he steps towards the ring. "Please let me slap this fool for a THIRD time!"
Well howdy there pardner.