Post by Gib on Apr 26, 2013 9:05:46 GMT -6
There have been a great deal of situations in my life where I have been unable to decide the right thing versus the wrong thing and I won’t lie, my track record in such decisions has never been phenomenal. I, more oft then not choose the wrong choice. Now, I find myself in one of the most difficult situations that I have ever been in. I need to decide whether what side to play on in the latest bit of drama. I have a daughter who obviously isn’t acting the way she should, and I have a tag partner who I have grown accustomed too acting like some sort of spoiled douche.
It is hard to decide who to hate more in this situation, I am sure it will work out, but it sucks being in the middle of something, especially when you have a huge week ahead of you. It seems the Gib retirement tour is still on par, it seems that I am not scheduled to face the longest reigning world champion in the history of our federation and a man who has tried to make my life miserable for the last few months.
I know, this Sunday is supposed to be the night of Verona, his crowning moment, his night to enter the hall of fame, to be recognized by those that have helped him throughout the way and to stand tall, defeating one of the greatest wrestlers in the history of our business. But Verona, there are a few things that are going against you now. I have nothing to lose anymore man. My legacy is forged in stone, that no matter what storm comes will certainly last forever.
And your legacy if forged on a hard drive, erased simply with the click of a mouse. The difference here is obvious, new school technicality versus old school brutality. I am not sure if you have noticed Verona, but I have been on a tear as of late, and I am not going to bow down to any man, no matter how many Christ references he makes in his promos, or how often he talks about how he was able to muster up the longest world title reign in ncw history. You have only defended against two people, how much credit do you want man?
I mean Mike Laslow and Wil Washington are both great competitors in their own right, but let’s look at the grand picture and try to see things objectively, they were both beaten by my son the same months they went after your title. You aren’t beating the best; you have wrestled members of my family how many times? The number is countless and you have what, one victory over us? This is where history will hurt you, this is where you realize Roberto that some things are greater than you and sometimes you should do your best to avoid them.
We represent the bane of your existence Verona, we all know the influence you wield around here, how you pick your opponents based on how well you match up with them, not by the overall qualities they possess or you would have wanted to beat my boy again, if you truly wanted to fight the best, I mean he did lay waste to both the last number one contenders right?
But sometimes politics work better then wrestling, we all know that. When you were on your rise to the world title, you wrestled me in what was supposed to be an easy win. What happened that night Verona? What synapse didn’t fire properly, what excuse can you come up with. You lost, you lost to a man that everyone considers already defeated, everyone has an answer to me, everyone knows that my knees are going to give out right.
So why the hell hasn’t anyone put my out of my misery, why hasn’t anyone finally put my out to pasture? Well the answer to that is simple, there is a young superstar here that can hurt me, there isn’t a young superstar around here that can finish me because I am built different, Famularo’s are built different. You know it Verona, so as much as I welcome you into our hall of fame, as long as I prepare for the pomp and circumstance that will certainly accompany the night to honor you I want to remember that after the ceremony there is going to be a hungry old tyrannosaurus rex looking for you.
And he still has a hunger that can only be satiated by defeating the greatest superstars of this era.
{Scene opens, Gib sits in his living room staring at the door. Zelda walks in, talking on the cell phone, she looks over at her father, and quickly says goodbye before waving and trying to walk past, Gib quickly speaks}
Gib: Have a seat please…
Zelda: I am kind of busy at the moment.
Gib: Listen, all the video games that you are looking to play or dicks that you are preparing to suck can wait, you need to sit down and you need to do it now.
Zelda: I don’t have…
Gib: You will sit down, you will shut up and you will listen.
{Zelda is taken aback by her father’s tone, she walks over and sits in a chair opposite him}
Gib: Obviously some things have come to light recently that make me look at you in a different light. I mean, it has been mentioned that you have had sexual relations with quite a number of men, many men as it was stated. Is this true?
Zelda: Gib, I…
{Gib forcefully responds}
Gib: IS IT TRUE?!?!
Zelda: Yes…
{Gib puts his head in his hands, his shoulders start to shake slightly, then he puts his head up, a tear rolls from his eye down his face. You see a disappointed father, someone who can’t believe the current revelation. Then slowly his frown turns into a smile, he stands and goes over to his daughter grabbing her from the seat and lifting her into the air in an embrace}
Gib: Ahhh, a chip off the old block. See, I knew one of my kids would know how to get things done. By the time I was your age I had plowed my way through South America and half of Africa. Xander has intercoursed about as many girls as he can count on a hand and I was scared that you had a low level of experience as well, but no, you my girl. I mean, until Jenny came around I was wondering who ate more penis, you or Xander and I won’t lie, I was leaning towards the boy.
{A voice is heard from the kitchen}
Xander: Dad, I am right here…
Gib: Yes, and even if I thought you were a cock gobbling faggot face, I still loved you just the same, well, maybe not exactly the same but slightly less then I currently do, only slightly. I mean look at Zelda, she is a regular sausage harvester
Zelda: Could you, like, never say that again?
Gib: Why, be proud girl, I have been digging for clams my whole life, and I find success always when I least expect it.
Zelda: Uhh….
Gib: But listen, just because you have the old Famularo curse of being incredibly attractive and good at the sex, it doesn’t mean you have to use it all the time. I mean, do you know how many times I cheated on Xander’s mom?
Zelda: No…
Gib: Me either… But, Simon is a good ****; he just has the confidence of a neutered mouse. Look, let’s say Simon had many sexual conquests, let’s say he is going to lunch with one of his ex sexual partners, now lunch doesn’t mean sex, but how would you fee?
Zelda: I would be pissed.
Gib: See, you can’t feel that way. He is pissed because you were kinda acting like a whore, now maybe nothing would have happened but more likely Rob Diamond would have taken the skin boat to tuna town, and you would have felt uber remorseful, I mean we all saw what happened on the television with Xavier Cross, and I mean, I have wondered if he was even a dude at all.
Zelda: Uhhh, really?
Gib: Yeah, I swear he wears eyeliner and his skin is far too soft to be natural. Anyhoo, I bought you something, I bought you something to help with these times. Our Famularo loins ache for constant usage, and you need something to help with that.
{Gib holds out a bag. Zelda pulls a package out of it, you see what it is and it offends you to your very core}
Zelda: You got me a chastity belt.
Gib: Yup, and I am taking the key. That way if you want to engage in coitus uninteruptus have to pass it by your very own moral compass, the old man.
Zelda: You are my moral compass?
Gib: Hell to the yeah, look, we have to stick together. I have your back honey. We will work this out with Simon and we will all live happily ever after like a family again.
{Gib puts his arm around Zelda and smiles proudly for having figured out a solution, Zelda’s eyes show nothing but the supreme level of discomfort a girl should feel after this type on conversation.}
You are in for it Verona, you are in for the fight of your life. Forget about the matches with Mike Laslow, forget about the matches with Wil Washington or the battle that is close approaching with Alex Jones, and realize they all drank from the cup of defeat while facing me. That is what always has been odd around here. I represent your final great challenge in this place; I represent the ultimate victory or the ultimate defeat for you.
Because if you lose to me, what will happen next? It will start a chain reaction, sure I won’t be labeled as the world champion because you, intelligently, have not put that on the line in this particular match but I will be known forever as the crack in your great wall of a title reign. I will be the first imperfection that caused the ultimate downfall, I will be the catalyst that ignites your failures.
And you have only one person to blame for this Verona, you brought this upon yourself, you have tried to slow Daye and I down with your counseling but currently I am plowing one of the counselors in a satisfying manner. Daye is kind of more effed up then he was before the counseling but, he is not as strong mentally as I am, he will someday reach my level of mental prowess but a man doesn’t become a genius overnight. You sent teams after us to take the titles and they all fell by the wayside. You have tried so many things that eventually you conceded defeat by leaving us alone.
Even your influence on the booking has backfired, if you were to look at the way things have gone the last few months, there is literally only one person that would be ranked as the number one contender, there is only one man who would be standing across from you next month and that is me. I would be the man to face because week after week, match after match, tag team, singles, four way, three way, whatever is put in front of me.
I win Roberto. I win…
I can’t stop, I won’t stop because I know that the train is outdated, I know there are better means of transportation but that doesn’t destroy my effectiveness. This train is rolling down a hill and when that momentum stops, this train will cease to move forward anymore, this train will enjoy his pension and sit on his ass drinking beers and enjoying the views of the lake.
But I am not ready. So, I will plug away, I will chant “I think I can, I think I can” repeatedly, until everyone in the audience raises their hands, until everyone at home raises their hands and un unison we yell rock together, we celebrate this sport, we celebrate this way of life and we celebrate being warriors.
{Simon works out on a treadmill, Gib slinks up behind him and gets on the treadmill behind him, starting to run in step with him, he is uncomfortable close, I mean really uncomfortably close. The two run in step a little bit before Simon presses the stop button and hops off, Gib, looking confused cocks his head to the side and questions Simon}
Gib: What the hell man? I was just starting to get a nice sweat going.
Simon: Dude that was gay…
Gib: Gay, what do you mean gay? I wasn’t touching your dick or anything, plus there have to be a certain amount of criteria and feelings involved for something to truly be gay, I mean, just because two men touch the tips of their dicks, that doesn’t make them gay it could be a high five.
Simon: Well, what do you want?
Gib: I am your training partner man, we are a team and we have some **** to take care of. I have a big match this week and was hoping we could get some **** taken care off for it.
Simon: Like what, beating the **** out of me and throwing me on my head?
Gib: Jesus, what a ****ing attitude, here I am trying to take care of your problems, because you have all the ****ing confidence of not quite hardened jello and here you are being a total douche head to me.
Simon: What do you mean take care of my problems.
Gib: I talked to Zelda, I gave her a present. See…
{Gib reaches inside his shirt, producing a chain, hanging from the chain is a key}
Simon: What the hell is that?
Gib: It is the key to her chastity belt. I am her moral compass, before anyone can get into her pudding pie, she has to ask permission first, but I have a little secret I didn’t tell her.
Simon: What?
Gib: You are the only one who gets access.
Simon: Well, she can still do other things…
Gib: I know, I contemplated a muzzle and chopping her hands off, but they are both too brutal, and I can’t deal with the police again.
Simon: Again…
Gib: Sorry, I mean I have never had a run in with the police, and never will!
Simon: Still, I don’t want Zelda to need to be forced, I want her to just be loyal.
Gib: She was loyal, until you become a ****tard. Turn about is fair play, you need to make her jealous, and she will come back. I know Famularo’s are the jealous type, I once hung a man by his testicles from a towel hook just for looking at a woman.
Simon: Were you interested in her?
Gib: No, but what if I was? Did he ever consider the possibility?
Simon: Are you cheating on the doctor.
Gib: Actually no, and I have never been more happy…
{Simon extends his hands to Gib and Gib looks at him shaking his head, he embraces him with both arms and holds his close, tightly, for an extended period of time. He doesn’t even rub his back, or pat it.}
Gib: Brothers gotta hug…
{Gib starts moving Simon back and forth like a teddy bear as the scene fades}
It is hard to decide who to hate more in this situation, I am sure it will work out, but it sucks being in the middle of something, especially when you have a huge week ahead of you. It seems the Gib retirement tour is still on par, it seems that I am not scheduled to face the longest reigning world champion in the history of our federation and a man who has tried to make my life miserable for the last few months.
I know, this Sunday is supposed to be the night of Verona, his crowning moment, his night to enter the hall of fame, to be recognized by those that have helped him throughout the way and to stand tall, defeating one of the greatest wrestlers in the history of our business. But Verona, there are a few things that are going against you now. I have nothing to lose anymore man. My legacy is forged in stone, that no matter what storm comes will certainly last forever.
And your legacy if forged on a hard drive, erased simply with the click of a mouse. The difference here is obvious, new school technicality versus old school brutality. I am not sure if you have noticed Verona, but I have been on a tear as of late, and I am not going to bow down to any man, no matter how many Christ references he makes in his promos, or how often he talks about how he was able to muster up the longest world title reign in ncw history. You have only defended against two people, how much credit do you want man?
I mean Mike Laslow and Wil Washington are both great competitors in their own right, but let’s look at the grand picture and try to see things objectively, they were both beaten by my son the same months they went after your title. You aren’t beating the best; you have wrestled members of my family how many times? The number is countless and you have what, one victory over us? This is where history will hurt you, this is where you realize Roberto that some things are greater than you and sometimes you should do your best to avoid them.
We represent the bane of your existence Verona, we all know the influence you wield around here, how you pick your opponents based on how well you match up with them, not by the overall qualities they possess or you would have wanted to beat my boy again, if you truly wanted to fight the best, I mean he did lay waste to both the last number one contenders right?
But sometimes politics work better then wrestling, we all know that. When you were on your rise to the world title, you wrestled me in what was supposed to be an easy win. What happened that night Verona? What synapse didn’t fire properly, what excuse can you come up with. You lost, you lost to a man that everyone considers already defeated, everyone has an answer to me, everyone knows that my knees are going to give out right.
So why the hell hasn’t anyone put my out of my misery, why hasn’t anyone finally put my out to pasture? Well the answer to that is simple, there is a young superstar here that can hurt me, there isn’t a young superstar around here that can finish me because I am built different, Famularo’s are built different. You know it Verona, so as much as I welcome you into our hall of fame, as long as I prepare for the pomp and circumstance that will certainly accompany the night to honor you I want to remember that after the ceremony there is going to be a hungry old tyrannosaurus rex looking for you.
And he still has a hunger that can only be satiated by defeating the greatest superstars of this era.
{Scene opens, Gib sits in his living room staring at the door. Zelda walks in, talking on the cell phone, she looks over at her father, and quickly says goodbye before waving and trying to walk past, Gib quickly speaks}
Gib: Have a seat please…
Zelda: I am kind of busy at the moment.
Gib: Listen, all the video games that you are looking to play or dicks that you are preparing to suck can wait, you need to sit down and you need to do it now.
Zelda: I don’t have…
Gib: You will sit down, you will shut up and you will listen.
{Zelda is taken aback by her father’s tone, she walks over and sits in a chair opposite him}
Gib: Obviously some things have come to light recently that make me look at you in a different light. I mean, it has been mentioned that you have had sexual relations with quite a number of men, many men as it was stated. Is this true?
Zelda: Gib, I…
{Gib forcefully responds}
Gib: IS IT TRUE?!?!
Zelda: Yes…
{Gib puts his head in his hands, his shoulders start to shake slightly, then he puts his head up, a tear rolls from his eye down his face. You see a disappointed father, someone who can’t believe the current revelation. Then slowly his frown turns into a smile, he stands and goes over to his daughter grabbing her from the seat and lifting her into the air in an embrace}
Gib: Ahhh, a chip off the old block. See, I knew one of my kids would know how to get things done. By the time I was your age I had plowed my way through South America and half of Africa. Xander has intercoursed about as many girls as he can count on a hand and I was scared that you had a low level of experience as well, but no, you my girl. I mean, until Jenny came around I was wondering who ate more penis, you or Xander and I won’t lie, I was leaning towards the boy.
{A voice is heard from the kitchen}
Xander: Dad, I am right here…
Gib: Yes, and even if I thought you were a cock gobbling faggot face, I still loved you just the same, well, maybe not exactly the same but slightly less then I currently do, only slightly. I mean look at Zelda, she is a regular sausage harvester
Zelda: Could you, like, never say that again?
Gib: Why, be proud girl, I have been digging for clams my whole life, and I find success always when I least expect it.
Zelda: Uhh….
Gib: But listen, just because you have the old Famularo curse of being incredibly attractive and good at the sex, it doesn’t mean you have to use it all the time. I mean, do you know how many times I cheated on Xander’s mom?
Zelda: No…
Gib: Me either… But, Simon is a good ****; he just has the confidence of a neutered mouse. Look, let’s say Simon had many sexual conquests, let’s say he is going to lunch with one of his ex sexual partners, now lunch doesn’t mean sex, but how would you fee?
Zelda: I would be pissed.
Gib: See, you can’t feel that way. He is pissed because you were kinda acting like a whore, now maybe nothing would have happened but more likely Rob Diamond would have taken the skin boat to tuna town, and you would have felt uber remorseful, I mean we all saw what happened on the television with Xavier Cross, and I mean, I have wondered if he was even a dude at all.
Zelda: Uhhh, really?
Gib: Yeah, I swear he wears eyeliner and his skin is far too soft to be natural. Anyhoo, I bought you something, I bought you something to help with these times. Our Famularo loins ache for constant usage, and you need something to help with that.
{Gib holds out a bag. Zelda pulls a package out of it, you see what it is and it offends you to your very core}
Zelda: You got me a chastity belt.
Gib: Yup, and I am taking the key. That way if you want to engage in coitus uninteruptus have to pass it by your very own moral compass, the old man.
Zelda: You are my moral compass?
Gib: Hell to the yeah, look, we have to stick together. I have your back honey. We will work this out with Simon and we will all live happily ever after like a family again.
{Gib puts his arm around Zelda and smiles proudly for having figured out a solution, Zelda’s eyes show nothing but the supreme level of discomfort a girl should feel after this type on conversation.}
You are in for it Verona, you are in for the fight of your life. Forget about the matches with Mike Laslow, forget about the matches with Wil Washington or the battle that is close approaching with Alex Jones, and realize they all drank from the cup of defeat while facing me. That is what always has been odd around here. I represent your final great challenge in this place; I represent the ultimate victory or the ultimate defeat for you.
Because if you lose to me, what will happen next? It will start a chain reaction, sure I won’t be labeled as the world champion because you, intelligently, have not put that on the line in this particular match but I will be known forever as the crack in your great wall of a title reign. I will be the first imperfection that caused the ultimate downfall, I will be the catalyst that ignites your failures.
And you have only one person to blame for this Verona, you brought this upon yourself, you have tried to slow Daye and I down with your counseling but currently I am plowing one of the counselors in a satisfying manner. Daye is kind of more effed up then he was before the counseling but, he is not as strong mentally as I am, he will someday reach my level of mental prowess but a man doesn’t become a genius overnight. You sent teams after us to take the titles and they all fell by the wayside. You have tried so many things that eventually you conceded defeat by leaving us alone.
Even your influence on the booking has backfired, if you were to look at the way things have gone the last few months, there is literally only one person that would be ranked as the number one contender, there is only one man who would be standing across from you next month and that is me. I would be the man to face because week after week, match after match, tag team, singles, four way, three way, whatever is put in front of me.
I win Roberto. I win…
I can’t stop, I won’t stop because I know that the train is outdated, I know there are better means of transportation but that doesn’t destroy my effectiveness. This train is rolling down a hill and when that momentum stops, this train will cease to move forward anymore, this train will enjoy his pension and sit on his ass drinking beers and enjoying the views of the lake.
But I am not ready. So, I will plug away, I will chant “I think I can, I think I can” repeatedly, until everyone in the audience raises their hands, until everyone at home raises their hands and un unison we yell rock together, we celebrate this sport, we celebrate this way of life and we celebrate being warriors.
{Simon works out on a treadmill, Gib slinks up behind him and gets on the treadmill behind him, starting to run in step with him, he is uncomfortable close, I mean really uncomfortably close. The two run in step a little bit before Simon presses the stop button and hops off, Gib, looking confused cocks his head to the side and questions Simon}
Gib: What the hell man? I was just starting to get a nice sweat going.
Simon: Dude that was gay…
Gib: Gay, what do you mean gay? I wasn’t touching your dick or anything, plus there have to be a certain amount of criteria and feelings involved for something to truly be gay, I mean, just because two men touch the tips of their dicks, that doesn’t make them gay it could be a high five.
Simon: Well, what do you want?
Gib: I am your training partner man, we are a team and we have some **** to take care of. I have a big match this week and was hoping we could get some **** taken care off for it.
Simon: Like what, beating the **** out of me and throwing me on my head?
Gib: Jesus, what a ****ing attitude, here I am trying to take care of your problems, because you have all the ****ing confidence of not quite hardened jello and here you are being a total douche head to me.
Simon: What do you mean take care of my problems.
Gib: I talked to Zelda, I gave her a present. See…
{Gib reaches inside his shirt, producing a chain, hanging from the chain is a key}
Simon: What the hell is that?
Gib: It is the key to her chastity belt. I am her moral compass, before anyone can get into her pudding pie, she has to ask permission first, but I have a little secret I didn’t tell her.
Simon: What?
Gib: You are the only one who gets access.
Simon: Well, she can still do other things…
Gib: I know, I contemplated a muzzle and chopping her hands off, but they are both too brutal, and I can’t deal with the police again.
Simon: Again…
Gib: Sorry, I mean I have never had a run in with the police, and never will!
Simon: Still, I don’t want Zelda to need to be forced, I want her to just be loyal.
Gib: She was loyal, until you become a ****tard. Turn about is fair play, you need to make her jealous, and she will come back. I know Famularo’s are the jealous type, I once hung a man by his testicles from a towel hook just for looking at a woman.
Simon: Were you interested in her?
Gib: No, but what if I was? Did he ever consider the possibility?
Simon: Are you cheating on the doctor.
Gib: Actually no, and I have never been more happy…
{Simon extends his hands to Gib and Gib looks at him shaking his head, he embraces him with both arms and holds his close, tightly, for an extended period of time. He doesn’t even rub his back, or pat it.}
Gib: Brothers gotta hug…
{Gib starts moving Simon back and forth like a teddy bear as the scene fades}