Truth Hurts (Bloodied Fox Tag/Rumble RP#2)
Apr 9, 2020 16:35:10 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, mosler, and 1 more like this
Post by bloodiedfox on Apr 9, 2020 16:35:10 GMT -5
The truth can be a painful thing.
The sun is setting. Bloodied Fox sits in a deckchair on the the roof of his apartment building. On a small table next to him sits an open bottle of Angry Orchard and a plate of familiar looking cookies.
For example, these cookies.
He has one in his hand, which he raises and wiggle for the camera.
The infamous Anthony Caffrey promo cookies. I was intending to make them just so I could do a bit where I bite into one and say they're shit, just like him, except I waited too long and Hannah Rockford did the same gag, only better than I'd planned. I didn't want to waste the ingredients, so I made them anyway, and you know something?
He wolfs down the whole cookie in one go, chewing it up and swallowing it down.
They're really really good.
That's not the painful truth I was referring to though. The painful truth in this instance is that the cookies being tasty has fuck all relevance to Anthony Caffrey, either as a wrestler or as a human being. He's still an obnoxious bellend who can't bear the thought of everything not revolving around him. That's why his little cookery show scattergunned at everyone he could mention; he just had to have that delicious delicious attention. Everyone had to talk about him. Hell, saying this now will make him smile, because derogatory or not, it's all still an ego stroke for him to be mentioned. I used to think you just ran to SWAT solely because you're afraid of Seth. I mean, you definitely are, but that's not the only reason. The smaller the pond, the bigger the fish you get to be. The AWF didn't immediately make you the centrepiece, so you ran off to the small time where dimmer lights let you shine brighter.
He picks up the bottle and takes a swig, then sighs and leans back in the chair.
I'm definitely getting booed at the Anzac Cup for that one.
Someone else stung by truth is The Dark Stars, given the way they spent the entirety of their 'vitally important for the future of the world' heist bitching and whining about me, all because I pointed out that preventing global calamity and competing in a fourway ladder match for the XHF tag titles are two concepts that go together about as well as fish fingers and custard. Here's a thought, Rick and Morty, rather than challenging me to predict the future, something I'm not arrogant enough to claim to be capable of, why don't you explain to us all why it's such a key part of your plan to win this match? After all, you're from the future and know everything and are infallible and yadda yadda yadda. I mean, it's not like you got a detail as basic as my boyfriend's name wrong. It's not like he appears in most of my promos. Hell, The Borgs are in the match too, and they apparently are all about ensuring their own timeline of robot evil, so I guess this is one of those vital flux points in history. They haven't been sounding off about it in promos yet though. I guess they're getting important maintenance done, or maybe they're just oiling their groinal attachments to old episodes of Robot Wars. Either way, until someone explains the role of the XHF tag titles in the fate of history as you know it, I'm gonna lean towards what looks to be true: you're just making shit up.
Just to keep things consistent, the other team in this match, Dos Angeles, are upset I didn't give them much air time, so turned up at my front door to cut a promo I only found out about afterwards. I don't know how you got my address, but if I get a whole bunch of randos showing up at my home now I will be very unhappy. Technical point: I didn't have nothing to say, I just didn't know where to start due to the sheer volume of promos that came before mine. But fair enough, you feel overlooked. I suppose I didn't give you a fair share of the limelight as opposed to the other 2 opposing teams. I put that down to their, rather insane, motivations being apparent, whereas all I got from you was film analysis of a movie I've not seen. Still, my fault for not doing more research on you. Just because I'm relatively new here, while you've been in the XHF since early days, doesn't mean I should remain ignorant. So I did some digging around and I found... well, I'll be blunt.
I found fuck all.
No title reigns listed, no accolades, no particular back story beyond you being brothers. You're offended I didn't know all about you, but there seems to be very little to know. If I'm supposed to care about you, then make me care. Right now, all I care about is slapping you in the face for showing up at my home uninvited, then climbing up a ladder and getting my titles back. If that upsets you, well tough. The truth doesn't care about your feelings.
The biggest truth about all this, though, is that none of what is happening here is all that important. Not Ryan and his knee obsession; not Psychotic Goth and his edgy 14 year old fanfic Hot Topic posturing; not Sniper and his PSTD; not Cross Recoba and his determination to flash his wad at all and sundry; not Timeless and his failed attempts to get people to notice him beyond his girlfriend's giant boobs. Everyone is ranting on and on about how they're the best and they're set for victory, and it's all so pointless, for one very simple reason:
This is a rumble.
No pins, no submissions, no KOs. You throw your opponent over the top rope to the floor. You enter in a random order. You don't know when you're in, against whom, and in what condition they'll be. Strength, technique, speed, they all pale in comparison to plain and simple luck. All the ability everyone touts won't save them if fate is unkind. Anyone could find themselves cast in the role of underdog, and take it from the XHF Network 2019 Best Underdog award winner, that will seriously cramp your chances of success. You can fight all you want, with everything you have, and still you can fail because events say it'll be that way.
Don't get me wrong, I'm in it to win it, but I'm not unrealistic. My odds of success are tied to more than just my ability. I'm not going to sit here and declare myself destined to be crowned, only to be made a chump by circumstance. I'll fight with everything I've got, because I can do no less, and I expect to be met with the same, but when push comes to shove, who emerges from this with the X-Crown may well not be the greatest wrestler, but simply the luckiest. You may not like that, but it's the truth.
Hurts, doesn't it?
The sun is setting. Bloodied Fox sits in a deckchair on the the roof of his apartment building. On a small table next to him sits an open bottle of Angry Orchard and a plate of familiar looking cookies.
For example, these cookies.
He has one in his hand, which he raises and wiggle for the camera.
The infamous Anthony Caffrey promo cookies. I was intending to make them just so I could do a bit where I bite into one and say they're shit, just like him, except I waited too long and Hannah Rockford did the same gag, only better than I'd planned. I didn't want to waste the ingredients, so I made them anyway, and you know something?
He wolfs down the whole cookie in one go, chewing it up and swallowing it down.
They're really really good.
That's not the painful truth I was referring to though. The painful truth in this instance is that the cookies being tasty has fuck all relevance to Anthony Caffrey, either as a wrestler or as a human being. He's still an obnoxious bellend who can't bear the thought of everything not revolving around him. That's why his little cookery show scattergunned at everyone he could mention; he just had to have that delicious delicious attention. Everyone had to talk about him. Hell, saying this now will make him smile, because derogatory or not, it's all still an ego stroke for him to be mentioned. I used to think you just ran to SWAT solely because you're afraid of Seth. I mean, you definitely are, but that's not the only reason. The smaller the pond, the bigger the fish you get to be. The AWF didn't immediately make you the centrepiece, so you ran off to the small time where dimmer lights let you shine brighter.
He picks up the bottle and takes a swig, then sighs and leans back in the chair.
I'm definitely getting booed at the Anzac Cup for that one.
Someone else stung by truth is The Dark Stars, given the way they spent the entirety of their 'vitally important for the future of the world' heist bitching and whining about me, all because I pointed out that preventing global calamity and competing in a fourway ladder match for the XHF tag titles are two concepts that go together about as well as fish fingers and custard. Here's a thought, Rick and Morty, rather than challenging me to predict the future, something I'm not arrogant enough to claim to be capable of, why don't you explain to us all why it's such a key part of your plan to win this match? After all, you're from the future and know everything and are infallible and yadda yadda yadda. I mean, it's not like you got a detail as basic as my boyfriend's name wrong. It's not like he appears in most of my promos. Hell, The Borgs are in the match too, and they apparently are all about ensuring their own timeline of robot evil, so I guess this is one of those vital flux points in history. They haven't been sounding off about it in promos yet though. I guess they're getting important maintenance done, or maybe they're just oiling their groinal attachments to old episodes of Robot Wars. Either way, until someone explains the role of the XHF tag titles in the fate of history as you know it, I'm gonna lean towards what looks to be true: you're just making shit up.
Just to keep things consistent, the other team in this match, Dos Angeles, are upset I didn't give them much air time, so turned up at my front door to cut a promo I only found out about afterwards. I don't know how you got my address, but if I get a whole bunch of randos showing up at my home now I will be very unhappy. Technical point: I didn't have nothing to say, I just didn't know where to start due to the sheer volume of promos that came before mine. But fair enough, you feel overlooked. I suppose I didn't give you a fair share of the limelight as opposed to the other 2 opposing teams. I put that down to their, rather insane, motivations being apparent, whereas all I got from you was film analysis of a movie I've not seen. Still, my fault for not doing more research on you. Just because I'm relatively new here, while you've been in the XHF since early days, doesn't mean I should remain ignorant. So I did some digging around and I found... well, I'll be blunt.
I found fuck all.
No title reigns listed, no accolades, no particular back story beyond you being brothers. You're offended I didn't know all about you, but there seems to be very little to know. If I'm supposed to care about you, then make me care. Right now, all I care about is slapping you in the face for showing up at my home uninvited, then climbing up a ladder and getting my titles back. If that upsets you, well tough. The truth doesn't care about your feelings.
The biggest truth about all this, though, is that none of what is happening here is all that important. Not Ryan and his knee obsession; not Psychotic Goth and his edgy 14 year old fanfic Hot Topic posturing; not Sniper and his PSTD; not Cross Recoba and his determination to flash his wad at all and sundry; not Timeless and his failed attempts to get people to notice him beyond his girlfriend's giant boobs. Everyone is ranting on and on about how they're the best and they're set for victory, and it's all so pointless, for one very simple reason:
This is a rumble.
No pins, no submissions, no KOs. You throw your opponent over the top rope to the floor. You enter in a random order. You don't know when you're in, against whom, and in what condition they'll be. Strength, technique, speed, they all pale in comparison to plain and simple luck. All the ability everyone touts won't save them if fate is unkind. Anyone could find themselves cast in the role of underdog, and take it from the XHF Network 2019 Best Underdog award winner, that will seriously cramp your chances of success. You can fight all you want, with everything you have, and still you can fail because events say it'll be that way.
Don't get me wrong, I'm in it to win it, but I'm not unrealistic. My odds of success are tied to more than just my ability. I'm not going to sit here and declare myself destined to be crowned, only to be made a chump by circumstance. I'll fight with everything I've got, because I can do no less, and I expect to be met with the same, but when push comes to shove, who emerges from this with the X-Crown may well not be the greatest wrestler, but simply the luckiest. You may not like that, but it's the truth.
Hurts, doesn't it?