Post by fowler on Jun 28, 2022 8:37:03 GMT -5
Billy Fowler stands in front of a large union jack graphic with the words “Bastards:UK” spray painted onto it. He holds his world title proudly over his shoulder with his left hand and a microphone in the right.
“Where to start this week?”
He has a clear look of frustration upon his face as he addresses the camera.
“Here I am. Here WE Are.”
With that Rob Riot and Frank Windsor walk into frame and flank the big man with their own tag team titles over their shoulders. They smirk with a cockiness all their own down the lens.
“We’re just out here minding our own business, being the absolute fucking pinnacle of this sport. No one, and I mean no one can deny that we are the last draw in professional wrestling.
Our sweat, our passion, our very valuable time is being spent into making this promotion the greatest federation in the history of wrestling.
Your fans know it, you understand. But what you boys in the back? How do you repay us?
With shit like you pulled last week Havok! With shit like Donzig Gunn plaguing us week in week out! With shit like rematches handed to wastes of God given air like Eddie fucking D!”
Frank and Rob both retort in unison with a loud “SHIT!”
“That’s right boys, shit!
With so much shit to deal with here who would even think we would have time to go chasing tag titles over at the network event? The only titles that matter is the three that you can see right before you. If the curtain jerkers out there on the lesser shows on the network want to prove themselves, then they should drag their arses over here and face us in our federation!
That’s right, OURS. Not yours Donzig Gunn.
You idiots just can’t take a beating for an answer and keep coming back for more don’t you. Well, my boys here have your cards counted and I assure you that when they are done with you, you won’t be coming back for anything.
As for you Havok.
My good friend Mr Windsor here is going to make sure that you understand the full ramifications of what you did last week. You don’t jump a champion in the middle of a defence boy. I thought you knew better than that, I thought you knew respect for this sport! Well, it looks like I was wrong. You really are still that worthless piece of shit that we met all those years ago. Hopefully Frank leaves enough of you to be scraped off the ring to face me in that triple threat I handed you.”
All three men in unison exclaim “YOU’RE WELCOME!”
“Because I can’t wait to bounce you and that emo kid of the canvas like I bounced your mother’s arse off my balls the other week.”
Riot and Windsor break composure and laugh.
“No, wait, wait. I went to far there, that was out of line and out of character. A world champion should know better. But then that is the point Havok, I do know better, and that is why I am and forever will be the Wrestle:UK World Heavyweight Champion and you will just be some spunk stain resembling a man, dressed in leather with cheap 120cc scooter pretending that being a Hells Angel is still relevant in 2022!
Anyway, enough about that waste of space and on to the next biggest waste of space in that locker room. Eddie D! My man, how are doing since I beat your arse for this big beautiful golden lady?
You know I honestly didn’t think that our paths would ever cross again, I mean why would they? We are clearly in different leagues. But here we are, someone out back decided that you deserved another chance to take what you clearly have no businesses holding.
Fuck… it must be something about the name Eddie right?”
Fowler looks at Riot and Windsor, holding his hands out puzzled.
“Guys, if we just change our names to Eddie maybe we’ll get given shit we don’t deserve for no good reason too! Hey Eddie Riot, have a fucking Lamborghini!
Oi, Eddie Windsor, have a date with Dua Lipa, Taylor Swift and Beyonce with a guarantee that they will all put out at the end of the night!
What about me? What about Eddie Fowler? Well fuck it, I’ve already got the big golden beauty here so what I would ask for is you worthless pricks to stop wasting my time! Do you know how much effort it takes for me to get in my gear and walk down to the ring just to beat ten ton of shit out of you again.
I guess I could also ask for some competitors worthy of standing across the ring from The Bastards.
I’m being harsh again aren’t I?”
Riot and Windsor look at Fowler disappointed and nod their heads.
Fowler let’s out a sigh and throws his hands in the air out of frustration.
“Argh, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault Eddie, Eddie D… God damn there are too many Eddie’s! Can I just call you D?
So, listen D, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t help that you were born with no discernible talent or ability within a wrestling ring. It’s not your fault that you were sold a lie that just by being a big old bastard you could make a success of yourself in this sport.
And it’s not your fault that you’ve been booked to have your head kicked in again.
But…
If after you wake up on the canvas with a paramedic checking your eyes and asking what your name is you roll out of the ring and walk your way back up the ramp to showers, stand there all soapy and think to yourself I want to have another go at Billy Fowler…
Then it will be your fault. And your last mistake.
We are the draw! You are the victims.”
“Where to start this week?”
He has a clear look of frustration upon his face as he addresses the camera.
“Here I am. Here WE Are.”
With that Rob Riot and Frank Windsor walk into frame and flank the big man with their own tag team titles over their shoulders. They smirk with a cockiness all their own down the lens.
“We’re just out here minding our own business, being the absolute fucking pinnacle of this sport. No one, and I mean no one can deny that we are the last draw in professional wrestling.
Our sweat, our passion, our very valuable time is being spent into making this promotion the greatest federation in the history of wrestling.
Your fans know it, you understand. But what you boys in the back? How do you repay us?
With shit like you pulled last week Havok! With shit like Donzig Gunn plaguing us week in week out! With shit like rematches handed to wastes of God given air like Eddie fucking D!”
Frank and Rob both retort in unison with a loud “SHIT!”
“That’s right boys, shit!
With so much shit to deal with here who would even think we would have time to go chasing tag titles over at the network event? The only titles that matter is the three that you can see right before you. If the curtain jerkers out there on the lesser shows on the network want to prove themselves, then they should drag their arses over here and face us in our federation!
That’s right, OURS. Not yours Donzig Gunn.
You idiots just can’t take a beating for an answer and keep coming back for more don’t you. Well, my boys here have your cards counted and I assure you that when they are done with you, you won’t be coming back for anything.
As for you Havok.
My good friend Mr Windsor here is going to make sure that you understand the full ramifications of what you did last week. You don’t jump a champion in the middle of a defence boy. I thought you knew better than that, I thought you knew respect for this sport! Well, it looks like I was wrong. You really are still that worthless piece of shit that we met all those years ago. Hopefully Frank leaves enough of you to be scraped off the ring to face me in that triple threat I handed you.”
All three men in unison exclaim “YOU’RE WELCOME!”
“Because I can’t wait to bounce you and that emo kid of the canvas like I bounced your mother’s arse off my balls the other week.”
Riot and Windsor break composure and laugh.
“No, wait, wait. I went to far there, that was out of line and out of character. A world champion should know better. But then that is the point Havok, I do know better, and that is why I am and forever will be the Wrestle:UK World Heavyweight Champion and you will just be some spunk stain resembling a man, dressed in leather with cheap 120cc scooter pretending that being a Hells Angel is still relevant in 2022!
Anyway, enough about that waste of space and on to the next biggest waste of space in that locker room. Eddie D! My man, how are doing since I beat your arse for this big beautiful golden lady?
You know I honestly didn’t think that our paths would ever cross again, I mean why would they? We are clearly in different leagues. But here we are, someone out back decided that you deserved another chance to take what you clearly have no businesses holding.
Fuck… it must be something about the name Eddie right?”
Fowler looks at Riot and Windsor, holding his hands out puzzled.
“Guys, if we just change our names to Eddie maybe we’ll get given shit we don’t deserve for no good reason too! Hey Eddie Riot, have a fucking Lamborghini!
Oi, Eddie Windsor, have a date with Dua Lipa, Taylor Swift and Beyonce with a guarantee that they will all put out at the end of the night!
What about me? What about Eddie Fowler? Well fuck it, I’ve already got the big golden beauty here so what I would ask for is you worthless pricks to stop wasting my time! Do you know how much effort it takes for me to get in my gear and walk down to the ring just to beat ten ton of shit out of you again.
I guess I could also ask for some competitors worthy of standing across the ring from The Bastards.
I’m being harsh again aren’t I?”
Riot and Windsor look at Fowler disappointed and nod their heads.
Fowler let’s out a sigh and throws his hands in the air out of frustration.
“Argh, I’m sorry. It’s not your fault Eddie, Eddie D… God damn there are too many Eddie’s! Can I just call you D?
So, listen D, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t help that you were born with no discernible talent or ability within a wrestling ring. It’s not your fault that you were sold a lie that just by being a big old bastard you could make a success of yourself in this sport.
And it’s not your fault that you’ve been booked to have your head kicked in again.
But…
If after you wake up on the canvas with a paramedic checking your eyes and asking what your name is you roll out of the ring and walk your way back up the ramp to showers, stand there all soapy and think to yourself I want to have another go at Billy Fowler…
Then it will be your fault. And your last mistake.
We are the draw! You are the victims.”
