A Badman And The OG

[Frank Windsor]

Frank Windsor was stood in the locker room that had been assigned to the Bastards in Aberdeen, Scotland. He was stood up straight in a suit with his Wrestle: UK Tag Championship belt over his left shoulder and he looked straight ahead at the camera which had been set up for him to record his conversation tonight. Stood next to Frank was the mentor of sorts for the Bastards, Sean Bean. Frank took a breath and then started. “Okay, is that what you’re all about Spike?” Frank asked as he took his designer sunglasses off and put them on top of his head. “I was fucking waiting for you to add something about during the war in your little tirade mate. Come on brah, there is more to fucking life of what went on when you were this self-proclaimed big fish in XHF. Now that’s fucking funny Spike as we’re all big fishes on that network and the only people that can get anywhere near to their precious gold do little fucking favours for the boss of it. Did he make you jiggle his hairy balls mate? Is that why you fucking left? Is that why you came to our company as you knew Mister Blood wouldn’t get you do him favours? Why would you want to be in his fucking gang if you know what I mean?” He paused for a few seconds to let the visuals of what he had said to enter the mind. “Do you want to point at the fucking teddy bear where the owner of XHF touched you Spike?” he asked as he continued. “We all know you were this big fucking champion in the past but what have you done recently? You failed making an impact in this company since you’ve been here haven’t you Spike; with your constant tirades about stuff that you’ve done in XHF it’s enough to cure my fucking insomnia. This Award winning wrestler and yes I did go there, is going to beat the fuck out of you and that other cum gargling cock womble in our match in Aberdeen.” A smirked crossed his lips for a split second before it disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Oh am I hurting your fucking feelings mate? Did you want us to all be good friends?” he smirked. “The Bastards ain’t anyone’s friends as we do what we want as we are what brings money into our fucking pockets and this company is getting desperate to get its hands on some of that folded fucking paper brah. That is why we did what we did last show. That referee’s not going to forget it in a hurry.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Did you see when the Bastards won the award for the best group at the Award ceremony?” Frank asked. “Did you see us? Who else could have really won that to be perfectly fucking honest? Donzig-Gun? The Foundation? Hell even that clown squad were nominated and that ain’t a fuck joke which incidentally is what is happening when Robbie puts his gold on the line against one of those clowns now that DiMaria took her bitch ass home as she was scared of facing a real wrestler and not one of those that Mister Blood has thrown in her path.” Frank lifted the belt off of his shoulder and moved it to the other shoulder. “And now we have another company trying to get in on our business hoping to piggy back off of our fucking success,” Frank muttered. “They see what we’re doing here, riding the fucking waves off of the Bastards success in Wrestle: UK; now this is a good fucking business decision by these Hard-core cunts but don’t try and get in the paths of really wrestling champions; the Gold Standard will make your lives as demoralising as they can be. I pity the fucking fool that tries to emulate the fucking Bastards.” Sean laughed at Frank’s comments. “But I fucking digress from what is happening in Aberdeen,” he said. “It’s not only Spike that’s in the match right? Jay seems to have earned his way with a chance to get his hand on more fucking gold. Hell, the punks been here literally five minutes and this will be his second fucking chance to get his hand on some Wrestle UK gold. Jay, you’ve got used to be carried along by the rest of your little pack that you believe everything should be given to you? After your last loss in this promotion you think that you deserve the spot you have been given in this promotion? You don’t, plain and fucking simple and the Bastards will show you once and for all that you and your other little shit squad won’t be about much longer as you’re just another flash in the pan.” “Do you think that I would get behind the Bastards if they weren’t the real deal?” Sean interrupted. “With Frank and Rob running rampant through the tag division and Harper running wild with the World Championship…….” “Fowler,” Frank said. “What?” Sean turned towards Frank. “You said Harper,” Frank said. “He’s called Fowler.” “That’s what I said,” Sean continued. “My Chosen Men in the Bastards will do anything that is needed to keep themselves on top of this business.” “Okay,” Frank interrupted. “Anyway, back on subject. Once I get passed Spike and Jay I get to face the winner of Robbie and Armand for the belt that Rob’s got over his shoulders. We all know that Robbie’s going to absolutely destroy that clown punk even shooting down that zeppelin he flies around in. I still can’t fucking believe that the clown thinks he’s got a fucking chance; So when Robbie and myself face off in a modern day War of the fucking Roses; Yorkshire versus Lancashire once again. People are fucking creaming themselves thinking of seeing Bastard vs Bastard action in the squared circle. Now that would be fucking epic. Now fuck off!!!”