Post by Thespian on Dec 23, 2021 18:59:48 GMT -5
Didn’t think I’d be spending my first Christmas alone, but I suppose that’s what happens when you want to keep up private appearances.
God, I think I could cut myself with the edge right now.
But, I’m not really alone. I have you.
Right… Idrissa?
Theo sighs as he looks over at his comatosed translator. A coma that the wrestler induced by his own drunken recklessness. Tightly wound bandages cover the top-half of the Interpreter’s skull as he lays in bed, motionless. Various
The only reason I’m not right behind bars again is because I barely played off the assault… but fuck me, I’m so sorry Idrissa. This is not how I wanted our first holiday as partners to go. I’ll make it up to you when you’re awake, I promise. Just please hold out until you’re awake. You’ll get your share and my excess. I will spoil you rotten when you leave this hospital.
We’ll have our own Christmas. Doesn’t matter if it’s January or July.
But in order to make that happen… I still need to work, for both of us.
… which means I have a championship bonus to collect, and a narcissist to knock down.
---
"Sex sells. That's your catchphrase and mantra, right, Sexton?"
The coarse voice of the Thespian breaks the silence. Lights cut through what was once a pitch-black theater. However, all the camera catches is a zoomed-in image of a man's chest. Tanned. Shaved. Chiseled. Every muscle, from the pectorals to the abdominals, flexes as the chest puffs forward.
"I think we can both agree with that, honestly. We all have a sex drive. Sex exists in most medias. However... this is where we begin to differ in our opinions."
A familiar gloved hand slips into frame. The fingers begin to trace alone the musculature as Theo continues to speak.
"For you, it becomes this... cringe-worthy, god-awful forefront gimmick that repulses most respectable persons. You and yours are nothing but pornstars made to get off perverts too desperate for intimacy that they'll cave to whatever cheesy lube-soaked plot they can latch onto to get their rocks off. Your "Sex" sells because that's all there is and all there ever will be. You do not get this far in life by being so one-dimensional."
The camera begins to zoom out... to show off the fuller picture now. A poor, helpless bodybuilder in nothing but some spandex shorts... stuck in a dragon sleeper by the Thespian, who holds him gently with one arm around the neck... and the other feeling over his chest.
"But me? I'm a renaissance man; a man of many talents and skills. I am artistic in my designs. Sex is just a spice for a fuller picture. If sex appeal was all that mattered... then I wouldn't be your reigning champion, now would I?"
He pauses for a moment... and considers to himself.
"Though, some people do find masks a lot hotter. The mystery... the suspense of knowing. But, I'm getting off topic. While pornstars CAN be appreciated, yourself not included... they're not paid nearly the same as proper actors. Imagine just how much more successful any actor that has starred in an HBO show is compared to any run-of-the-mill actor you could find plastered on a taped in the back of the shady adult shop behind the McDonalds."
His grip tightens a little around the bodybuilder's throat. What could have once been seen as a gentle rest hold has turned into something a bit more lethal, and probably something that the man posing as Sexton in this promo was not expecting. His body begins to tense up as his arms reach up for the Thespian's, but this only has the wrestler wrenching in the hold even further.
"Theater kids like me fucking hate cocky jocks like you, but I'm going to be nice. It's December; it's the season of giving. I'm going to give you everything you've been missing in life, Sexton. I'm going to show you how sex should be enjoyed. Slow. Intimate. Just like wrestling, you tell a story with your body against another's. Just like I'm going to do when I take you for the wildest ride of your life... pin you down, back to the canvas, in-front of the world. But that's not the only thing you need, Sexton, no.
"Love is what you need. Love is what I’ll give you. Tender love. Rough love. We’ll make you respectable again. Just need to cut out that dated mentality of sex that died long before my time. And I'll start this love with a poem, written by yours truly."
Theo reaches back behind him as he speaks:
"I bought you a Christmas gift
One I’m sure that everyone will see as a hit.
For you and your two girls, I give."
The masked man places the gift in-front of himself and his muscle-bound victim:
"A singular Solo cup, able to take your endless amount of shit."
The Thespian's arm releases the man as his torso flips forward, and crushes the plastic cup placed before him.
"Sex sells when there’s more to it. Don’t be shallow and paint a fuller picture. Merry Christmas, Sexton. I'll see you soon."
God, I think I could cut myself with the edge right now.
But, I’m not really alone. I have you.
Right… Idrissa?
Theo sighs as he looks over at his comatosed translator. A coma that the wrestler induced by his own drunken recklessness. Tightly wound bandages cover the top-half of the Interpreter’s skull as he lays in bed, motionless. Various
The only reason I’m not right behind bars again is because I barely played off the assault… but fuck me, I’m so sorry Idrissa. This is not how I wanted our first holiday as partners to go. I’ll make it up to you when you’re awake, I promise. Just please hold out until you’re awake. You’ll get your share and my excess. I will spoil you rotten when you leave this hospital.
We’ll have our own Christmas. Doesn’t matter if it’s January or July.
But in order to make that happen… I still need to work, for both of us.
… which means I have a championship bonus to collect, and a narcissist to knock down.
---
"Sex sells. That's your catchphrase and mantra, right, Sexton?"
The coarse voice of the Thespian breaks the silence. Lights cut through what was once a pitch-black theater. However, all the camera catches is a zoomed-in image of a man's chest. Tanned. Shaved. Chiseled. Every muscle, from the pectorals to the abdominals, flexes as the chest puffs forward.
"I think we can both agree with that, honestly. We all have a sex drive. Sex exists in most medias. However... this is where we begin to differ in our opinions."
A familiar gloved hand slips into frame. The fingers begin to trace alone the musculature as Theo continues to speak.
"For you, it becomes this... cringe-worthy, god-awful forefront gimmick that repulses most respectable persons. You and yours are nothing but pornstars made to get off perverts too desperate for intimacy that they'll cave to whatever cheesy lube-soaked plot they can latch onto to get their rocks off. Your "Sex" sells because that's all there is and all there ever will be. You do not get this far in life by being so one-dimensional."
The camera begins to zoom out... to show off the fuller picture now. A poor, helpless bodybuilder in nothing but some spandex shorts... stuck in a dragon sleeper by the Thespian, who holds him gently with one arm around the neck... and the other feeling over his chest.
"But me? I'm a renaissance man; a man of many talents and skills. I am artistic in my designs. Sex is just a spice for a fuller picture. If sex appeal was all that mattered... then I wouldn't be your reigning champion, now would I?"
He pauses for a moment... and considers to himself.
"Though, some people do find masks a lot hotter. The mystery... the suspense of knowing. But, I'm getting off topic. While pornstars CAN be appreciated, yourself not included... they're not paid nearly the same as proper actors. Imagine just how much more successful any actor that has starred in an HBO show is compared to any run-of-the-mill actor you could find plastered on a taped in the back of the shady adult shop behind the McDonalds."
His grip tightens a little around the bodybuilder's throat. What could have once been seen as a gentle rest hold has turned into something a bit more lethal, and probably something that the man posing as Sexton in this promo was not expecting. His body begins to tense up as his arms reach up for the Thespian's, but this only has the wrestler wrenching in the hold even further.
"Theater kids like me fucking hate cocky jocks like you, but I'm going to be nice. It's December; it's the season of giving. I'm going to give you everything you've been missing in life, Sexton. I'm going to show you how sex should be enjoyed. Slow. Intimate. Just like wrestling, you tell a story with your body against another's. Just like I'm going to do when I take you for the wildest ride of your life... pin you down, back to the canvas, in-front of the world. But that's not the only thing you need, Sexton, no.
"Love is what you need. Love is what I’ll give you. Tender love. Rough love. We’ll make you respectable again. Just need to cut out that dated mentality of sex that died long before my time. And I'll start this love with a poem, written by yours truly."
Theo reaches back behind him as he speaks:
"I bought you a Christmas gift
One I’m sure that everyone will see as a hit.
For you and your two girls, I give."
The masked man places the gift in-front of himself and his muscle-bound victim:
"A singular Solo cup, able to take your endless amount of shit."
The Thespian's arm releases the man as his torso flips forward, and crushes the plastic cup placed before him.
"Sex sells when there’s more to it. Don’t be shallow and paint a fuller picture. Merry Christmas, Sexton. I'll see you soon."