A Badman Shows The Schlong Style

[Frank Windsor]

The camera panned up and there he stood for all to see, Frank fucking Windsor. He was dressed in his usual clobber with a retro Bastard’s t-shirt on. He looked forward as if deep in thought which was funny for the self-proclaimed Sultan of Schlong Style. The camera was being held by his long-time girlfriend Natalia Santiago. She hadn’t been seen around for a while as she’d been in Hawaii rebuilding her wrestling career. She held the camera up professionally as she had done this before when Finn wasn’t about. Frank was a multi-times World Heavyweight Tag Champion with his Bastards brothers and also a multi-time World Heavyweight Champion too. Being part of the group known collectively as the Bastards was something of an enigma. “Right, I’ve managed to catch up on watch some of this stuff that Kalvin Watts has been putting out,” Frank said as he yawned. “He sure likes to listen to his own fucking flapping lips with his cure for fucking insomnia doesn’t he? When you think you’re talking shit at someone like Frank Windsor it just comes across as BS to this guy. Throwing your words at someone like me truly makes me chuckle Kalvin as we can all see the fear in your eyes even if you deny it to yourself. Thinking that I’m a fucking glory hog of sorts because I’ve made claims on the gold strap that you hold in your paws is disrespectful. You’re a fucking cock-wombling wank stain if you think that. It’s all about legacy; and you don’t have any in you my American friend.” A smirk was constantly crossing his face but this time he was seriously pissed off. “Where as I should really be taking this match fucking serious but to be perfectly fucking honest that I want to punch my fucking fist knocking your teeth down your throat Kalvin,” he continued. “There is something about your whiny voice that just bugs us Brits; you think that we should respect your Oklahoman ass because you’re this technical fucking wrestler and the world should just fall at your feet. And my response would still fucking stand. You think by gibbering about how disrespectful by not defending that Wrestle: UK Commonwealth Championship belt that Robbie is a lesser champion BUT have you seen what he has been fucking doing?” He nodded as he knew he was getting his points across. “You think by defending that championship belt that you tore off of Oxford’s fucking corpse that it makes you a fucking God of Wrestling of sorts?” Frank asked. “Have you listened to yourself? Do you really think that? Come on mate, get a fucking life. Do you actually really listen? Come on, do us a fucking favour and get back on a plane and go the fuck back to America. You’ll probably play the fucking race card ‘cos I hated on your American ass? Well that would be fucking funny coming from the most racist fucking place on the planet that is universally hated by the rest of the fucking world for believing that it can dictate it’s obese ass ways to us. Fuck you, plain and simply fuck you!” “Wait, I’m Alaskan,” Natalia said. “That belt that you regally hold is the BRITISH Television Championship,” Frank muttered as he looked in the camera after ignoring Natalia’s comment. “It is a fucking travesty that you hold it AND I will do anything I can to bring it back home to Yorkshire. I’m sorry if that sounds desperate but you do not realise the disrespect you holding that belt is to the audience of this wrestling promotion. We are a BRITISH promotion and not some Oklahoman Indie Promotion. We may be still in our first year but the Bastards have made it a household fucking name and I can’t sit back and let you parade that belt around any longer. I may be the underdog going into this match as you’re bigger than me and have this technical experience to the squared circle but you ain’t all that as I’m going to prise that gold from your cold dead hands AND bring the belt back home.” Frank took off his t-shirt which gained him a wolf whistle from Natalia. “Did you see what we did this last show?” he asked. “I’m still feeling it now a few days later and after having taken a flight back to blighty. I may be not at my 100 per cent best BUT I will put 110 per cent into winning this match for our British fucking fans. I may have seemed to been losing my way recently with the anarchic ways that the Bastards have been heading but this is my fucking passion and the disrespect that Kalvin brings to that gold strap is unbelievable.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his patented designer sunglasses. “People have said I have been riding on the coat tails of both of my fellow Bastards which has got me to this spot but that could only last me for a little bit longer,” he said. “Since the day that I walked into the Tower Ballroom in Blackpool and had seen Robbie wrestling some American talent the company had brought in for the night to when I go one on one with Robbie for his Commonwealth belt have flown passed in a blink of an eye. I remember hanging around the gym that someone had told me that Robbie trained in so I ended up waiting for him to show himself. Eventually he had turned up and I vaguely remember begging him to train me as I wanted to be just like him. Eventually I remember I had broken through and he helped to train me during the breaks he had from his journeys to Japan and America to make more of a name for himself. And now I get to face off against him. But first comes Kalvin and he can fuck right off!”