The Badman With The Thorn In His Side

[Frank Windsor]

The camera panned up and brought into focus the member of the Bastards, Frank Windsor. He was stood in a retro Bastards t-shirt and black jeans. His designer sun glasses were on the top of his head. The Wrestle: UK Tag Championship belt was over his left shoulder whilst behind him over a chair was the GCW World Heavyweight Championship belt and the tag belts from NPW and SWAT that the Bastards also had. Frank stretched his shoulders before he looked down the lens. “Is it time to get fucking serious? It is? Now this has been an interesting few weeks for the Bastards,” Frank said. “First I get into a brutal fucking barn burner with that ass clown Donzig and it goes exactly how I said it would go. Yes we totally beat the living shit out of each other but at the end of the match my hand was raised as the winner. That didn’t go down well with my opponent as he sulked for the rest of the fucking show. He seems to have took his football home with him after losing to the better man. We’ll probably fight again at some point but for now that fucking cunt’s in my rear view fucking mirror.” Frank moved the belt off of his shoulder and held it in front of his face. He took a cloth out of his pocket and started to polish the front plate. “Then when that was fucking done,” he continued. “Robbie put his religious fucking opponent in his goddamn place and got the big W with no fucking hassle at all. And then to finish off the whole fucking show shockingly Billy finally pulled off something that he has tried to do for decades and decades and was finally fucking successful. No, he didn’t get some crackin’ looking bird’s numbers that really wanted to go to the fucking Pepsi Max Big One in Blackpool with him which is more like the fucking tea cups at Alton Towers. No, he actually won the big title. Yes, crazy as it sounds, Billy fucking Fowler is a World fucking Champion. And that is fucking legit.” He put the belt back onto his shoulders and continued to talk to the camera. “No, you didn’t hear me wrong,” Frank laughed as he pulled an ear. “Yes Billy fucking Fowler joins me and Robbie as having held or in my case STILL holding a fucking World Championship belt. Then we followed this up with us celebrating in Manchester and watching Robbie’s god awful Morrissey tribute act. Yes, you also heard that correctly too. Riot with his daffodil hanging out of his back pocket not only embarrassed himself but embarrassed Morrissey so much that he rolled over in his casket AND he’s not even fucking dead yet. Riot’s the only possibility that I know that could be as dreary in real life as Morrissey so he does him proud. Have you ever hung around with him in a social setting? He makes Victor Meldrew seem like a party fucking animal. Go and look him up, I can wait.” He held up his left arm and looked at an invisible watch. “We could have been going live onto the One Show with Alex and Ronan or gone and picked up some fucking fish and chips at Binley’s Mega Chippy in Coventry but alas we did it big time in ever so sunny Manchester,” Frank said with a smirk on his face. “What a great few weeks for the current trend in professional wrestling to do. We had some great times. Yes; even with Billy the seven foot former EMO being there and at one point I think he ran into the Rising Sun pub naked except for his World Championship belt and then proceeded to try and do the helicopter without putting out a hip and then wondered why they wouldn’t fucking serve us. But we’re now onto another week and another fucking show and when I found out what we were doing I just couldn’t help but laugh out loud.” Frank tried to retain his composure and stay in character but it showed that he was having mental flashbacks as he feigned trying not to throw up. “The Dark Stars, again? Is that for fucking real?” Frank asked. “What the actual flying fuck? How many times have the Bastards got to put these pseudo-aliens cock wombles in their fucking box? I cannot fucking believe it. Is this the third or fourth time these fucking guys have come for the gold straps that the Bastards have around their waists? Come on, someone in the front office should have a look around the fucking network and bring in some competition for us as these ass clowns don’t have a fucking chance. Hell, it’ll soon be time for us to face two punks selling popcorn or selling t-shirts in the ring if we can’t get any better fucking competition. I can’t fucking believe they managed to get passed their last opponents to get this shot at greatness once again. How did the Dark Stars manage to beat anyone that wasn’t supposed to be enhancement fucking talent?” He calmed himself down and continued his rant of sorts. “I cannot fucking believe that the front office are taking you guys serious,” he said. “Kono and Niko if I can call you by your Earthly fucking names; selling yourselves as something you’re not now that is fucking low and we’re going to have a fucking blast exploiting that shit as exploiting loop holes like that is what we’re great at. Have you seen the lack of fucking talent that we’ve had to deal with in this locker room? The Bastard need talent to bring out the best in us so after we humiliate the Dork Stars for the fifty fifth time the front office better get us some real fucking talent to face or else. Now fuck off!” He pushed the camera out of the way.