A Badman Gets In Trouble

[Frank Windsor]

The camera panned up the front of a tent. The zip on the side of it is pulled up from the inside and a face appeared through the now open flap. It is Frank Windsor; one of the greatest trio in professional wrestlers known as the Bastards. He looked up and saw his associate Finn Corbyn with a camera. “Finn, what the fuck?” he said. “We’re at Glastonbury on a bit of a jolly and you’ve got a goddamn camera?” “Do you think Eddie will be taking a break before what is his biggest match in professional wrestling today?” Finn said. “NO! He will be getting his ass down the ring with all the other orange people in Essex and training hard.” “More likely fixing a fucking puncture on his bicycle but you’re right,” Frank muttered. “Now get that camera on the fucking money shot of my face.” Finn brought the camera up as Frank turned and reached into his tent and brought out one of the Wrestle: UK Tag Championship belts and put it on his shoulder. “We may be in Glastonbury,” he said. “Watching some great bands but you must always be prepared. Even at this music festival their might be some bitch that I have to slap back down to their level which is why we’re in the celebrity area." Finn started recording and counted him in. “Shall we get this shit started?” Frank smirked as he asked the question even though he didn’t really want anyone to answer him. “So for shits and giggles I’ve really got to get my words out to you. Eddie, Eddie? What the fuck have you been sniffing? I know you’re supposed to be some bad ass biker bloke but you’re not supposed to sample the fucking product. You talk like some bad ass biker even though you’re from fucking Essex. That’s right Essex; the home of Gemma Collins and the rest of those Towie freaks.” He visibly shivered at the thought of the orange oompa lumpa’s from Towie. “The nearest fucking thing you’ve come close to being a biker was when you were riding a Tomahawk when you were a little kid,” he continued. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you turn up to the fucking show in gold latex and we don’t want that do we? Hell fucking no. I bet you and your butt monkey’s lackeys go out on a Sunday morning on your little push bikes and piss off the locals by riding around the country lanes in Essex taking up the whole road. How fucking selfish of you and your little gang.” Frank caressed the championship belt on his shoulder. “Let’s get fucking serious for a minute as I ain’t got long as I need some munch before I fade away,” he continued. “So Eddie, do you really think you’re on Frank fucking Windsor’s level? This ain’t a fucking episode of Stranger Things Eddie; no, you ain’t going to fucking prevail at the end. Kate Bush won’t fucking save you. This ain’t your time kid; this is the Era of the Bastards and you ain’t got jack on us and you fucking know it.” Frank shrugged his shoulders as he continued. “That freaky family you were the surrogate pet of in RSW were lucky last fucking time,” he said. “You wanker’s got lucky but that won’t happen this time as you’ve not got that fucking crazy Texan around this time or his dinosaur cousin. This time it’ll just be the two of us in MY fucking ring and I ain’t losing to a cock womble like you Eddie. This is going to get bloody Eddie, I hope your boys are there to take you down A&E or it’ll be a bit awkward.” He shook his head. “Why should I give you any more fucking TV time Eddie?” he asked. “After what you did last show you should be fucking fined and suspended but no for some reason you’ve got something on the owners so you get another shot at the gold. So I move onto Donzig, didn’t you have enough the other show? You bring your little tag team bitch partners to this company so to make yourself a big star again? Do you really think they’ll get passed the Dork fucking Stars? Those two may be morons but your little boys ain’t got a chance.” Frank pulled out his patented designer sunglasses and put them on before he continued. “So okay I really need to clear some stuff up that is circulating on the net at the moment,” he said. “People have been speculating that the Bastards as a team will not travel to Network events to challenge for any of the Network’s championships. Well I can straighten that up now. It’s the fucking truth, why the fuck should we? We are wrestling fucking royalty; we are the biggest draws in professional wrestling. We are what you would say the hottest ticket in professional wrestling and why should we travel to these other piss-poor promotions?” He looked to the left as he thought he saw some other celebrity walking passed but it wasn’t anyone of substance. “I’m not saying we’d not like those XHF Tag Championship belts,” he smirked. “They’d look really sweet next to the belts the gold standard of professional wrestling have BUT why should we travel. They should bring their sorry asses over to the premium wrestling promotion not only on XHF but the whole of the fucking world. Bring themselves over to this company and Robbie, Billy and I will show them why we are the absolute best in professional fucking wrestling. Let me put my anger issues behind me.” Frank put down his championship belt and turned back to the camera held by Finn. “So this may be a bit controversial and may get us fined but nothing changes for us,” he said. “Anyway now I’ve got to go see some good music and drink some great beer. Now fuck off!!”