Post by Xavier Cross on Dec 1, 2012 7:56:49 GMT -6
“Really Gib, we were gone for three days…”
“What…”
“You had a party! That’s what. I come home, and there are college girls passed out everywhere.”
“That would make sense, I invited an entire sorority…”
“YOU DID WHAT!”
“Well, I read on Yahoo! News that the University of Virginia had some grade A babes…”
“…I really hate you…”
“No worries Crosstopher Walken, I wore a condom.”
“GIB!”
“I may be old, but you don’t have to yell, I can still hear…”
“…I really hate you…”
-thud-
A tractor tire is lifted into the air, and falls to the ground. The camera immediately picks up a wrapped in winter Nike cold gear. The sweat falls off his brow, as he continues to the process, until the tire is up his gravel drive way. From the window, we see the feiry redhead, Natalie Tyson, little James William in her arms, the two of them watch his father stretch his arms out.
Cross is tired, but being an athlete is all about routine, and despite the fact he was facing his worst nightmare, The Ace, he wouldn’t take it lightly, or underestimating the man. The fact was, the Ace was a cold, dangerous man, who was willing to do whatever it took to rain defeat over Xavier’s head.
It had been a month ago since the two had locked in singles combat, facing each other for the coveted nCw, National Title. A title that bore plenty of history between the two men, a reminder of a great person tragedy Cross once faced, something the Ace made the mistake of bringing up. This had fueled the fire, despite how boring and lame the Ace truly was, Cross took the idiots words and turned them into fire, a hatred that burned brightly.
Almost as bright as those freedom stripes, the good ol’ Red and Whites.
-Thud-
Cross is now holding a sledge hammer, every few moments he brings it down on the tire. Something that builds muscle in the arms. A very simple workout, but it was only done in hopes of becoming stronger, strong enough to choke the Ace out, and possible not let go.
It was a pipe dream.
But not as beautiful as a dream of those Blue banner with Stars Gleaming.
Cross looks over at the camera before winking.
“He doesn’t quite get it. The Ace thinks it’s so simple, that this title is precious to me, that it means more to me than anything in the world. The belt itself is nothing; it’s the actual title of being the National Champion to bares the weight of pride that I take to heart. To be able to consider myself a representative of my great home, of this glorious Nation.”
He grins a bit, before striking the tire once more.
“The Ace will never understand what it’s like to have pride in himself, or his craft, he sold it all to the devil for another chance at me. He claims I was a winner due to being screwed over by a referee, that it somehow my fault that the ref missed something. But if you think the system is corrupt Ace, look at the last two weeks. Your assault on me, following to getting your own personal hooker turned referee. The fact is, this is set up as a screw job, this is corrupt, these are the things the Savior, Xavier Cross, fights against.”
“The system isn’t made to better one’s self, if you want to live of the classic, ncw-welfare program, fine, but I’m a hard working American Man, and if I have to defend our title against a pathetic loser like yourself, then fine. I’ll let you suckle from Kelly Knite’s tit, and hopefully this one won’t land you in sexual harassment court. Also, may I add, who the hell is our H-R representative, because this really got swept under the rug. I mean seriously, that was on National Television….can’t like the government press charges anyway? I need to watch more Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. Rape isn’t okay Ace, not at all, not at all.”
Setting the bat down, Cross looks up at his girlfriend and child, a real smile washes over his face as he wipes his brow before lifting the tire up with both hands, carrying it into the garage, he sets it down gently, leaning it against the wall before turning back to the camera.
“So take your note pad out Ace, and let me teach you a thing or two, you won’t beat me, you will not win this title. I am just plain, and simply better than you. It isn’t about flukes or luck, I don’t need luck, and I’ve never needed luck. If you’re a man who relies on luck, then you’re more pathetic that I originally thought. Now hear this, plain and simple, before you start stuttering, trying to put together a drabble that you call a response. You’re nothing even close to who I am, and you’ll never understand who I am. Your words are a played out script, you change the names to protect the innocent people you’ve had to face. I listen to your words, and I feel like I’ve just heard someone read out the same Mad Lib, thirty-thousand freaking times. You’re boring, did I mention that, I feel like that word is going to be so overused when I’m done beating the snot out of you.”
Xavier rubs his face a bit, his smile fading into a more serious look.
“I remember you jumping me, I remember the beating you gave me Ace, every single blow I received, I remember the impact of every single one. I’ll make sure to double it when I beat you’re silly little tea sipping ass….”
Cross turns around, seemingly pulling an American Flag out of no where.
“Because these stripes don’t run, and I shoot Bald Eagles with M-16’s out of my dick. I’m gonna knock that silly little fish and chips crap out of your hands, poor your tea into the nearest body of water, and kick your ass back to Queen Elizabeth the 1st, you incest loving wig wearing bad teeth having soccer playing fairy!....’MERICA!”
“So….after hiring that crime scene clean up it seems that the only thing that is left of Gib’s little house party is memories…”
“At least he didn’t kill a hooker.”
“I don’t see how he does it…”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the guy is a dinosaur, yet he fights, he is a complete badass, and bangs college girls.”
“Are you saying you want to be Gib?”
“I mean, growing up, I was always ashamed to admit I was a huge wrestling fan, you know, it’s not the most popular sport in the world.”
“Because crazy rednecks, and idiots seem to find their way at the front of the whole promotional thing?”
“No, well sort of. I love the fans but still…look my point is, growing up, Gib was the man, I guess I just never understood that side of the business until I got involved.”
“How many college girls have you banged on a nightly basis?”
“…I don’t feel comfortable answering that question without Steve Awesome, or my lawyers here.”
“I kind of hate you.”
“Look my point is, the guy was one of my freaking heroes, and in between Gib, and Brad Kane, I never had many guys to look up to in this business. I just feel weird…”
“Why?”
“I mean, he’s getting up there in age, and he isn’t slowing down….”
“You’re worried Gib is going to die?”
“….Yeah…”
“I’m pretty sure God isn’t prepared to handle Gib in heaven…”
“And I’m pretty sure after seeing some of those stains, Gib isn’t going to Heaven, Natalie.”
“And…Gross…”
“What…”
“You had a party! That’s what. I come home, and there are college girls passed out everywhere.”
“That would make sense, I invited an entire sorority…”
“YOU DID WHAT!”
“Well, I read on Yahoo! News that the University of Virginia had some grade A babes…”
“…I really hate you…”
“No worries Crosstopher Walken, I wore a condom.”
“GIB!”
“I may be old, but you don’t have to yell, I can still hear…”
“…I really hate you…”
*****
-thud-
A tractor tire is lifted into the air, and falls to the ground. The camera immediately picks up a wrapped in winter Nike cold gear. The sweat falls off his brow, as he continues to the process, until the tire is up his gravel drive way. From the window, we see the feiry redhead, Natalie Tyson, little James William in her arms, the two of them watch his father stretch his arms out.
Cross is tired, but being an athlete is all about routine, and despite the fact he was facing his worst nightmare, The Ace, he wouldn’t take it lightly, or underestimating the man. The fact was, the Ace was a cold, dangerous man, who was willing to do whatever it took to rain defeat over Xavier’s head.
It had been a month ago since the two had locked in singles combat, facing each other for the coveted nCw, National Title. A title that bore plenty of history between the two men, a reminder of a great person tragedy Cross once faced, something the Ace made the mistake of bringing up. This had fueled the fire, despite how boring and lame the Ace truly was, Cross took the idiots words and turned them into fire, a hatred that burned brightly.
Almost as bright as those freedom stripes, the good ol’ Red and Whites.
-Thud-
Cross is now holding a sledge hammer, every few moments he brings it down on the tire. Something that builds muscle in the arms. A very simple workout, but it was only done in hopes of becoming stronger, strong enough to choke the Ace out, and possible not let go.
It was a pipe dream.
But not as beautiful as a dream of those Blue banner with Stars Gleaming.
Cross looks over at the camera before winking.
“He doesn’t quite get it. The Ace thinks it’s so simple, that this title is precious to me, that it means more to me than anything in the world. The belt itself is nothing; it’s the actual title of being the National Champion to bares the weight of pride that I take to heart. To be able to consider myself a representative of my great home, of this glorious Nation.”
He grins a bit, before striking the tire once more.
“The Ace will never understand what it’s like to have pride in himself, or his craft, he sold it all to the devil for another chance at me. He claims I was a winner due to being screwed over by a referee, that it somehow my fault that the ref missed something. But if you think the system is corrupt Ace, look at the last two weeks. Your assault on me, following to getting your own personal hooker turned referee. The fact is, this is set up as a screw job, this is corrupt, these are the things the Savior, Xavier Cross, fights against.”
“The system isn’t made to better one’s self, if you want to live of the classic, ncw-welfare program, fine, but I’m a hard working American Man, and if I have to defend our title against a pathetic loser like yourself, then fine. I’ll let you suckle from Kelly Knite’s tit, and hopefully this one won’t land you in sexual harassment court. Also, may I add, who the hell is our H-R representative, because this really got swept under the rug. I mean seriously, that was on National Television….can’t like the government press charges anyway? I need to watch more Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. Rape isn’t okay Ace, not at all, not at all.”
Setting the bat down, Cross looks up at his girlfriend and child, a real smile washes over his face as he wipes his brow before lifting the tire up with both hands, carrying it into the garage, he sets it down gently, leaning it against the wall before turning back to the camera.
“So take your note pad out Ace, and let me teach you a thing or two, you won’t beat me, you will not win this title. I am just plain, and simply better than you. It isn’t about flukes or luck, I don’t need luck, and I’ve never needed luck. If you’re a man who relies on luck, then you’re more pathetic that I originally thought. Now hear this, plain and simple, before you start stuttering, trying to put together a drabble that you call a response. You’re nothing even close to who I am, and you’ll never understand who I am. Your words are a played out script, you change the names to protect the innocent people you’ve had to face. I listen to your words, and I feel like I’ve just heard someone read out the same Mad Lib, thirty-thousand freaking times. You’re boring, did I mention that, I feel like that word is going to be so overused when I’m done beating the snot out of you.”
Xavier rubs his face a bit, his smile fading into a more serious look.
“I remember you jumping me, I remember the beating you gave me Ace, every single blow I received, I remember the impact of every single one. I’ll make sure to double it when I beat you’re silly little tea sipping ass….”
Cross turns around, seemingly pulling an American Flag out of no where.
“Because these stripes don’t run, and I shoot Bald Eagles with M-16’s out of my dick. I’m gonna knock that silly little fish and chips crap out of your hands, poor your tea into the nearest body of water, and kick your ass back to Queen Elizabeth the 1st, you incest loving wig wearing bad teeth having soccer playing fairy!....’MERICA!”
*****
“So….after hiring that crime scene clean up it seems that the only thing that is left of Gib’s little house party is memories…”
“At least he didn’t kill a hooker.”
“I don’t see how he does it…”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the guy is a dinosaur, yet he fights, he is a complete badass, and bangs college girls.”
“Are you saying you want to be Gib?”
“I mean, growing up, I was always ashamed to admit I was a huge wrestling fan, you know, it’s not the most popular sport in the world.”
“Because crazy rednecks, and idiots seem to find their way at the front of the whole promotional thing?”
“No, well sort of. I love the fans but still…look my point is, growing up, Gib was the man, I guess I just never understood that side of the business until I got involved.”
“How many college girls have you banged on a nightly basis?”
“…I don’t feel comfortable answering that question without Steve Awesome, or my lawyers here.”
“I kind of hate you.”
“Look my point is, the guy was one of my freaking heroes, and in between Gib, and Brad Kane, I never had many guys to look up to in this business. I just feel weird…”
“Why?”
“I mean, he’s getting up there in age, and he isn’t slowing down….”
“You’re worried Gib is going to die?”
“….Yeah…”
“I’m pretty sure God isn’t prepared to handle Gib in heaven…”
“And I’m pretty sure after seeing some of those stains, Gib isn’t going to Heaven, Natalie.”
“And…Gross…”
