A Badman Reacts To Stuff Down Under

[Frank Windsor]

The picture faded up to what looked like a backstage area of where the Wrestle: UK’s Australian special show had been recorded. The roar of the crowds could still be heard through the walls. The three members of the greatest wrestling faction in the world were stood in front of a Wrestle: UK banner. Frank Windsor was on a telephone talking to someone as Rob Riot and Billy Fowler both looked at the camera. Frank noticed the camera and hung up the phone. All three men looked tired as they had just got done with a group of punks in the squared circle and had shown them what it was like to be professional wrestlers and not just a bunch of clowns. They were all still in their wrestling attire from their earlier match. Frank nodded and began their reaction to what had gone on. “So Australia did you see what we just did?” Frank said. “The Bastards came over to the land of convicts and show the ass holes who think because they were a part of some Indie promotion called SWAT that somehow made a name for itself a few years back before it fizzled out like a wet fart in the Summer. SWAT was a weird little promotion wasn’t it? It was a flash in the freaking pan even with that ANZAC thing it had going. I don’t know why it’s still talked about to this freaking day? It’s a goddamn travesty.” “A travesty?” Rob said. “We finally killed it tonight once and for all; whenever they talk about that company now they will always remember that the Bastards put it six feet under. It is deader than dead, it is deceased……..” “Is a dead parrot?” Fowler interrupted with a smirk on his face. "Australia was weird, every living thing wants to kill you. I went to the toilet earlier and had to check the pan if their wasn't some killer snake or spider that wants to attack my arse. That's not right is it?" “What?” Rob asked with a look of surprise on his face as he turned to Fowler. “Never mind,” Fowler said. “Carry on.” Rob seemed to get his thoughts in order before he turned back to the camera. “We’ve got a special anniversary coming up,” Rob continued. “And we showed the Australian audience tonight live and in colour why we are that good. We showed them when this trio of ours defeated their fan favourites.” “It was so freaking cool Rob,” Frank said. “If I wasn’t in the ring I would have probably got a bit of a semi going on thinking about how we destroyed those ass-clowns once and for all. The EMO kid tried to bring it to us but he finally got put down once and for all. SWAT is no more, it’s in the freaking past and now we move towards the Battle of Britain pay per view which is going to be off the freaking chain which is what those Colonists from across the pond say. If they boo us as much as they did tonight I’ll jump in the crowd and smack the taste out of their gobs.” He nodded and looked right down the camera lens. “We’re sure to have a great match there but before that we’ve got a couple of freaking awesome matches,” he turned and looked at Fowler. “Billy here is going to be able to get his big hands on that fuck-tard Eddie Havok in a Hell in a freaking Cell match for the chance to get HIS Wrestle: UK World Championship belt back around his waist which Havok stole from him. I can’t believe the window licker Havok broke my goddamn arm and stole your belt big man, proves shit floats in the toilet bowl sometimes and if you remember that glorified jobber from RSW couldn’t win a match with catering back in the day. He was that bad that Robbie wanted to just send him out to the ring to help set it up for the rest of the freaking talent. Who knew this kid could get lucky.” “He’ll have nowhere to run in the goddamn Cell Frank,” Fowler said. “He’s going to be locked in there with an angry Bastard who wants to just destroy that wanker for what he did to me. I will rend his flesh against the steel mesh and make a Big Mac out of his face before throwing him off of the roof, I promise. I will rip his fucking head off of his dead corpse and put it on a spike outside Wrestle: UK’s corporate office.” “Bit freaking dark Billy boy,” Frank said. “I’ve just got off the freaking phone and I have a freaking surprise for that match big man; this is going to be the best thing to happen to the Bastards in years mate and the best thing EVER for professional freaking wrestling. You’re going to get the big belt back, Robbie and I will defend our tag championship straps against some odd looking mooks and my surprise. It’s going to be a great goddamn night.” “Oblivion Death Squad or whatever they call themselves will be humbled when they step up for OUR Wrestle: UK Tag Championship,” Rob said. “We’ve defended those belts against all comers and these two morons will be no difference. They will be looking up at the lights as the referee counts to three for the win. Bastards tag champions for life. I don’t remember if we’ve faced them before BUT who cares as it’ll be the same outcome.” “Those two mumbling morons think they’ve got a chance against two skilled professional wrestlers like Robbie Riot and Frank Windsor?” Frank asked. “Let me makes this crystal freaking clear for them; they may be Donzig’s little pocket enforcers who to be perfectly honest with you look like they share a freaking brain cell between them and that brain cell is faulty. We are the best freaking tag team in the world but we don’t like to brag do we guys?” “We are the most decorated tag teams on the entire network,” Rob said. “People keep coming up to us and asking us why we’ve not gone for the XHF Tag Championship but to be honest those gold straps are not worthy for a team like the Bastards going for them. They are below us as those that have held them are just amateurs; they are not even worthy of carrying the Bastard’s bags.” “The Bastards are the real freaking thing,” Frank said as he pointed at the camera. “WE ARE THE FREAKING NETWORK!!!! You morons think that because we came back to the network that all is forgiven. We know what you said about us when we were beating the hell out of the tag division in Canada and now we’re back wrestling in the UK and back on your network you think we’ve sold our souls to come home. You would be so freaking wrong. We don’t freaking forget, or forgive and we’ve got your cards marked. The Badman doesn’t forgive! EVER!!” “We should get ourselves sorted for our flights,” Rob said as he turned away from the camera. “We need to get back to the UK before we set off for the next show. So how do you finish this usually Frank?” Frank smirked at the camera. “Enjoy you last days of freedom Oblivion bitches,” Frank said. “You saw what happened to your boss? Now fuck off!”