Post by Deleted on Mar 25, 2017 4:58:10 GMT
~~The PrincessTwilightSexyFang podcast, as viewed on hotgoths.fuckyeah~~
You do not know me, Sir. You may think that you do...but you do not. But you? You I know. You I know intimately. Both in the flesh and in the abstract.
Is this the part where I swoon? Coated in oil, your muscles pop, yes? And as my preference for the flavor of rapscallion is known, my thoughts should certainly be clouded in lust, yes? You are the Sparrow to my Swan, I am sure.
Is this the part where I fall to my feet in awe? Where I wish for a hope of being thought about in the same sentence as you? All of those world titles, all of those hall of fame rings. Your steps must be slowed by the weight, your gait heavy by the hopes and dreams you carry upon your shoulders, the world of wrestling tossed in your wake.
Is this the part where I cower in fear? The great and mighty Stevenson. His talent and will to win are only eclipsed by his terrible beauty.
In the words of my godfather: What a load of horseshit.
I shall not swoon for you, Sir. You and your 27 facelifts do not hide the turkey’s neck of age that tells the truth. Your muscles...your strength? I grew up under the shadow of a man as much a bodybuilder as a fighter and know a failed physique when I see it. More time spent practicing your form and less lifting too much weight for the pretty girls would have served you better. And your smarm, regardless of how you feel, is like that of an oil slick: Try as you might to reach the fresh water underneath, your hand will always be coated by a foul substance forevermore.
Or to put it in a way someone like Kate would understand: I would rather leap naked into the Lake of Fire itself than be one of your conquests.
I feel no awe for you, Sir. Your career? Your titles? More the stuff of braggadocio idiocy than concrete and tangible awards. Oh...certainly...you have had your championships. But you have also had your fair share of embarrassing losses. I know you prefer to chalk those up to “doing business” or some such, but let us face reality here: You are much akin to Babe Ruth. Either a home run or a strikeout. That old man had a near 2-1 ratio of failure to success. You are much the same. And while he is considered a man who redefined success for his sport? You are just a name to be mocked by even the lowest of the lizards in the land.
And that does not even include losing a singles match to a certain overweight wrestling journalist!
I have no fear for you either, Sir. I fear no boogie man. I fear no Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus. I fear no Easter Bunny or Great Pumpkin. As such, I shall certainly feel no fear for just as big of an illusion...the illusion that you are the best and brightest this business has ever seen. Yes, your confidence is high. Yes, you come here with a peacock’s plumage of pomp. But like that bird you are nothing but color and swagger, feeding off worms, insects, and berries. I, in contrast, am a predator. I hunt...I plan...I adapt...and I conquer. That is reality. And your mirrors and smoke? They break...they dissipate...in the face of that reality.
I have warned you that you are not going to like what you face in Fucking Awesome. Warned you that your bluster will not carry you through our doors. For while you toil away on social media being a “heel” and ignoring facts for the sake of “heat?”
I AM the heat, dearie.
I am the match...the flame...the red and black...the revolution. And God’s mission for me, that of bringing His Light to this business and taking it all to its foundations? Men like you will not be spared. You might have had a chance at salvation with the one who came before me...but now? Now...there is no salvation for you. No mercy. No hope for the men who celebrate their victories by claiming their opponents as weak or cover for their losses by deflection. No hope for men who cannot stand on their own feet and take what comes at them with chest thrust out, chin held high.
Bring everything you have, dearie. Every plastic surgery, ascot, and baseless boast. Bring everything you have.
I wish to burn it all to the ground.
Ride the flames.