Post by Allen and Ollie and Raccoon on Jun 24, 2024 3:31:29 GMT
Allen returns from his usual thursday. Therapy session, gym, lunch…. Basic day. Only this time he returns to find his cat Bill, asleep on top of his fancy new briefcase.
It provided Allen with a context that had been escaping him recently. One he’d even been discussing with his therapist earlier. Something his bud Ollie had been talking to him about some time ago.
He lived in a weird world. A world where men and women claimed to be Kings and Gods and Monsters and Machines.
But this… was in the possession of just a guy. A Joke-slinging Midwestern Cat Dad with a permanent chip on his shoulder.
So he takes a deep breath. He grabs the tripod and puts his phone on it. Let’s do like Dr. Howell says. Let’s just let it all out.
'THE COMEDIAN' ALLEN CHANEY
Piss, Vinegar, and Barbecue
We find ourselves in Allen’s office in his Kansas City residence, a big framed poster of George Carlin behind him as well as a trophy case full of past championships.
ALLEN CHANEY: I love when you all count me out. I really do. It puts a fire in my gut and a flutter in my front pants place. Here I was mistaken that Robert Verona had learned something and we were gonna settle this. I suppose I gave him too much credit. I don’t mind Roberto fucking with my day. Used to it. I’ll just kick his ass again and hold a pen in his hand to sign my shit… the problem I have is that Natasha Walker had nothing to do with any of that and you decided to let our beef affect her as well. That’s fucked.
Allen’s eye twitches.
ALLEN CHANEY: Boy, Pax Stormcrow sure has a lot to say about management overstepping their bounds until it directly benefits him, huh? Weird.
Allen rolls his eyes.
ALLEN CHANEY: By now I’m sure everyone who can’t cut it has joined in on blaming my Fiance for their failures and also didn’t say a fucking word when Roberto Verona blatantly overstepped his boundaries time and time and time again because none of you actually give a shit, you just need another talking point and someone to be mad at for being shitty and mid who isn’t the person you see in the mirror. I like to think I’m a pretty friendly dude backstage. Some of you have casually mentioned me as a pretty nice guy. Where the fuck were any of you when Verona and his Legion were beating the shit out of me? I don’t need your answer. I already have it. The answer is that helping me would not have helped your career even if it was the right thing to do so why bother? So y’all can take all the grandstanding morals you’ve suddenly grown out of convenience to your fevered egos and park them in your shit pipe. Either the one in back or the one under your chin spewing baseless verbal diarrhea.
Allen is coming in pretty hot today.
ALLEN CHANEY: Does what I’m saying make me a bad guy? A good guy? I don’t give a shit about how anyone feels about me, really. You can like me, you can dislike me. I’m certainly not desperate enough to get sloppy toppy on tv in a transparent attempt to keep people hating me because I’m afraid once people stop hating me they won’t care enough to pay any attention to me at all.
Shots fired.
ALLEN CHANEY: So, Tytus. I’ve given you enough props, big man. I’m not even gonna throw up the picture again. I’m just gonna tell it like it is. You know by now I’ve got your fucking number and I can smell the Baltica-scented piss running down your leg because of it. Because you know I am going to beat you but you don’t know what it means for your career when the whole world realizes that when you look past all the muscles and the spooky Cold War vibes? You aren’t even an opener, you're a goddamn open-mic’er.
Allen let’s the words sink in for a moment.
ALLEN CHANEY: Do you wanna know why you keep getting the silly picture, bud? It’s because beyond ‘I’m Russian’ you haven’t shown me anything. But I suppose it really is an unfair comparison…
Allen sounds like he’s about to apologize until a smirk finds his lips.
ALLEN CHANEY: If Zangief or Soda Popinski were real they might have a shot at beating me. I know you’re hungry. I know you think you need this. As long as I’m around you’ll stay hungry and I’ll stay fuckin fed. That fat joke was a freebie.
Allen slaps his gut.
ALLEN CHANEY: I dunno if Abigail has taken to blaming my lovely Fiance for her status in the company yet but uh… that’d be goddamn hilarious. Abigail clings onto her single title reign from three years ago the same way Luke Walton as a small forward would cling to the maybe 4 points he’d put up per game for the Lakers when they took back-to-back championships only instead of having one disappointing year after that and moving on to coaching, she’s just been trapped on the Cleveland Cavaliers for the rest of her life.
A pause.
ALLEN CHANEY: Abigail is the Cleveland Cavaliers of IWF.
Allen takes another moment to let that all sink in.
ALLEN CHANEY: I’m sorry if none of you dorks know anything about sports. Anyway… for all the shit I’ve been talkin and boy oh boy have I been salty today… We are currently on equal footing when it comes to points and I know you two are hungry. Truth be told I don’t really got many issues with either of y’all and have just been trying to light a fire under you both. I don’t feel accomplished beating folks who don’t really really want to kick my ass if you haven’t noticed. So what skin do I have in this game? I’ve gotta show that Verona can’t keep me down. I’ve gotta show that I can put in work and get shit done without the aide of some sort of ‘favoritism’ people are likely about to accuse my Fiance of giving me. I’ve got a partner I have to make a loss up to because she got swallowed up in my extracurriculars. I took my first loss. My first proper loss. Like, a real one and not the one Verona made up. See? I’m capable of admitting when I lose.
Allen dismisses the future comments about this with an eye roll and a wanking motion.
ALLEN CHANEY: So as much as Tytus and Abigail think they got something to prove… I can’t let a loss turn into a trend. I have to make this just be a hiccup and not a public pants-shitting. So amongst all my confidence and BDE I feel pressure… but there’s something you all should know about me by now.
Allen breathes a content sigh.
ALLEN CHANEY: I LOVE that pressure. I love the person that pressure makes me and the things that pressure makes me capable of. Some people crack under pressure. Some people implode under pressure well before they even get to see the Titanic. Happy almost exactly one year anniversary to those jokes by the way. I’m nothing if not topical. And handsome.
Allen winks to the camera.
ALLEN CHANEY: But that pressure is my sweet spot, my zone. If Tytus thinks he’s feeling pressure, too? It ain’t gonna be nothing compared to the pressure of 315 pounds of Kansas City Barbecue-built bad motherfucker smashing him into a pancake. I’m hungry now. I just made myself hungry. For Barbecue. Or Pancakes. Maybe both.
Allen briefly loses himself in though over food before shaking it off and turning his attention back to the camera.
ALLEN CHANEY: Yeah, I lost…but I ain’t fuckin beat. Until I’m in a casket I’ve got enough piss and vinegar in my system to go around and everyone can have them a taste. I’m not pumped full of Soviet Horse Steroids or whatever but to borrow a phrase from the dude who trained me…I NEVER Relent. I don’t even know how. Hell, someday that’s gonna get me killed but until then I’m enjoying the ride... and I’ll do everything to make sure anyone in my way enjoys it significantly less. Setup. Punchline.
After shutting off the camera Allen takes a deep breath,. Felt good to let that all out. Bill is no longer laying on his Briefcase. Allen opens it and looks at the contract inside… And for the first time decides maybe there’s a better approach than breaking stuff. Worth a shot.
He calls his manager, Daniel Fitzsimmons.
“Hey so uh…a Lawyer. How do we get one?”
It provided Allen with a context that had been escaping him recently. One he’d even been discussing with his therapist earlier. Something his bud Ollie had been talking to him about some time ago.
He lived in a weird world. A world where men and women claimed to be Kings and Gods and Monsters and Machines.
But this… was in the possession of just a guy. A Joke-slinging Midwestern Cat Dad with a permanent chip on his shoulder.
So he takes a deep breath. He grabs the tripod and puts his phone on it. Let’s do like Dr. Howell says. Let’s just let it all out.
'THE COMEDIAN' ALLEN CHANEY
Piss, Vinegar, and Barbecue
ALLEN CHANEY: I love when you all count me out. I really do. It puts a fire in my gut and a flutter in my front pants place. Here I was mistaken that Robert Verona had learned something and we were gonna settle this. I suppose I gave him too much credit. I don’t mind Roberto fucking with my day. Used to it. I’ll just kick his ass again and hold a pen in his hand to sign my shit… the problem I have is that Natasha Walker had nothing to do with any of that and you decided to let our beef affect her as well. That’s fucked.
Allen’s eye twitches.
ALLEN CHANEY: Boy, Pax Stormcrow sure has a lot to say about management overstepping their bounds until it directly benefits him, huh? Weird.
Allen rolls his eyes.
ALLEN CHANEY: By now I’m sure everyone who can’t cut it has joined in on blaming my Fiance for their failures and also didn’t say a fucking word when Roberto Verona blatantly overstepped his boundaries time and time and time again because none of you actually give a shit, you just need another talking point and someone to be mad at for being shitty and mid who isn’t the person you see in the mirror. I like to think I’m a pretty friendly dude backstage. Some of you have casually mentioned me as a pretty nice guy. Where the fuck were any of you when Verona and his Legion were beating the shit out of me? I don’t need your answer. I already have it. The answer is that helping me would not have helped your career even if it was the right thing to do so why bother? So y’all can take all the grandstanding morals you’ve suddenly grown out of convenience to your fevered egos and park them in your shit pipe. Either the one in back or the one under your chin spewing baseless verbal diarrhea.
Allen is coming in pretty hot today.
ALLEN CHANEY: Does what I’m saying make me a bad guy? A good guy? I don’t give a shit about how anyone feels about me, really. You can like me, you can dislike me. I’m certainly not desperate enough to get sloppy toppy on tv in a transparent attempt to keep people hating me because I’m afraid once people stop hating me they won’t care enough to pay any attention to me at all.
Shots fired.
ALLEN CHANEY: So, Tytus. I’ve given you enough props, big man. I’m not even gonna throw up the picture again. I’m just gonna tell it like it is. You know by now I’ve got your fucking number and I can smell the Baltica-scented piss running down your leg because of it. Because you know I am going to beat you but you don’t know what it means for your career when the whole world realizes that when you look past all the muscles and the spooky Cold War vibes? You aren’t even an opener, you're a goddamn open-mic’er.
Allen let’s the words sink in for a moment.
ALLEN CHANEY: Do you wanna know why you keep getting the silly picture, bud? It’s because beyond ‘I’m Russian’ you haven’t shown me anything. But I suppose it really is an unfair comparison…
Allen sounds like he’s about to apologize until a smirk finds his lips.
ALLEN CHANEY: If Zangief or Soda Popinski were real they might have a shot at beating me. I know you’re hungry. I know you think you need this. As long as I’m around you’ll stay hungry and I’ll stay fuckin fed. That fat joke was a freebie.
Allen slaps his gut.
ALLEN CHANEY: I dunno if Abigail has taken to blaming my lovely Fiance for her status in the company yet but uh… that’d be goddamn hilarious. Abigail clings onto her single title reign from three years ago the same way Luke Walton as a small forward would cling to the maybe 4 points he’d put up per game for the Lakers when they took back-to-back championships only instead of having one disappointing year after that and moving on to coaching, she’s just been trapped on the Cleveland Cavaliers for the rest of her life.
A pause.
ALLEN CHANEY: Abigail is the Cleveland Cavaliers of IWF.
Allen takes another moment to let that all sink in.
ALLEN CHANEY: I’m sorry if none of you dorks know anything about sports. Anyway… for all the shit I’ve been talkin and boy oh boy have I been salty today… We are currently on equal footing when it comes to points and I know you two are hungry. Truth be told I don’t really got many issues with either of y’all and have just been trying to light a fire under you both. I don’t feel accomplished beating folks who don’t really really want to kick my ass if you haven’t noticed. So what skin do I have in this game? I’ve gotta show that Verona can’t keep me down. I’ve gotta show that I can put in work and get shit done without the aide of some sort of ‘favoritism’ people are likely about to accuse my Fiance of giving me. I’ve got a partner I have to make a loss up to because she got swallowed up in my extracurriculars. I took my first loss. My first proper loss. Like, a real one and not the one Verona made up. See? I’m capable of admitting when I lose.
Allen dismisses the future comments about this with an eye roll and a wanking motion.
ALLEN CHANEY: So as much as Tytus and Abigail think they got something to prove… I can’t let a loss turn into a trend. I have to make this just be a hiccup and not a public pants-shitting. So amongst all my confidence and BDE I feel pressure… but there’s something you all should know about me by now.
Allen breathes a content sigh.
ALLEN CHANEY: I LOVE that pressure. I love the person that pressure makes me and the things that pressure makes me capable of. Some people crack under pressure. Some people implode under pressure well before they even get to see the Titanic. Happy almost exactly one year anniversary to those jokes by the way. I’m nothing if not topical. And handsome.
Allen winks to the camera.
ALLEN CHANEY: But that pressure is my sweet spot, my zone. If Tytus thinks he’s feeling pressure, too? It ain’t gonna be nothing compared to the pressure of 315 pounds of Kansas City Barbecue-built bad motherfucker smashing him into a pancake. I’m hungry now. I just made myself hungry. For Barbecue. Or Pancakes. Maybe both.
Allen briefly loses himself in though over food before shaking it off and turning his attention back to the camera.
ALLEN CHANEY: Yeah, I lost…but I ain’t fuckin beat. Until I’m in a casket I’ve got enough piss and vinegar in my system to go around and everyone can have them a taste. I’m not pumped full of Soviet Horse Steroids or whatever but to borrow a phrase from the dude who trained me…I NEVER Relent. I don’t even know how. Hell, someday that’s gonna get me killed but until then I’m enjoying the ride... and I’ll do everything to make sure anyone in my way enjoys it significantly less. Setup. Punchline.
After shutting off the camera Allen takes a deep breath,. Felt good to let that all out. Bill is no longer laying on his Briefcase. Allen opens it and looks at the contract inside… And for the first time decides maybe there’s a better approach than breaking stuff. Worth a shot.
He calls his manager, Daniel Fitzsimmons.
“Hey so uh…a Lawyer. How do we get one?”
“I'm always relieved when someone is delivering a eulogy and I realize I'm listening to it.”
-George Carlin
Well howdy there pardner.