The Big Bad Wolf.
Sept 8, 2017 19:07:04 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, Slainmaker, and 3 more like this
Post by Harold Campbell on Sept 8, 2017 19:07:04 GMT -5
**Ever since Harold Campbell lost to the pig a couple weeks back, he hasn't been around the locker room. Hell hasn't even been seen in his hometown or usual hot spots. The shame of losing to a pig must of been so much, an actual pig not someone who mongo the destroyer portrays on the network or the local buffet. For days now there has been a film screw on the road looking for harold campbell. Wanting to know if he will be back. But every lead they got turned out to be a dead end. Until today... September 8th. As several mexican civilians has points out a man fitting his description wandering the streets of mexico city. Looking for a place to be himself, by himself. We have been directed way out on the outskirts of mexico, in a abandoned city. A ghost town to be exact with a population that looks to be less than a handful or maybe even 0. This dusty rundown bar that looks like it's just about to give out and flop over when the next dust storm hits it. As we walk in we see a individual matching the harold campbell's description. His face at the bottom of a whiskey glass, dirty dusty bottle of who knows what besides him. No one else seems to be around, aside from a patron at the end of the bar. Sitting there... slouched over. Harold is in silence as he just stares down at his glass. XHF Network media crew take a chance and approach. Hoping they can lift the former x* crown champion up and back to where they think he belongs. At the very least, back to his home.**
Mr. Campbell? Sorry to bug you but we have been looking for you for quite some time. We don't want to be rude, I'm sure you're going through things after what happened... happened. Most everyone is concerned though, since your disappearance. We want to help you be you again. Get on with your life.
Help me... be me? That ship sailed years ago buddy boy. Recent events have showed only that I was a fool. What you want is something that can't be achieved anymore. Maybe a couple weeks ago there was a slim chance of that happening but... I lost to a fucking pig man. I was a fool like I said. I had a good thing going while sitting in my trailer mansion, collected easy paychecks and putting smiles on the faces of people who cared. Who cared to think of me when they needed their manchild to smile again or wife to be have one more night of single life. I gave a hell of birthday party... I gave a hell of a bachelorette party. But those days are done. Mongo made a fool of me again. He got me up and active again. I got myself all hyped up to be competitive again the wrestling world. At my age that's a dream. A dream I had every night for the past 8 or so years when I was the longest reigning, never defending x* crown champion. Within two months of being back... being active again... I get jerked around all wrong. What is this business anymore? It's clearly not a sport anymore that's for sure. It's a shit show, this wrestling business has gone and crapped all over itself for the finale time. I thought I was coming back in for all the right reasons. To defend the most prestigious title to ever grave the squared circle. Instead I get thrown into one of these carny ran shit shows. I get put up against a pig. Not a reeshi, not a venom, not even a destruction. A walk on all fours pig. Not someone fat who loves cake, so they eat the entire cake in one sitting pig. A literal piggie. Oink... fucking babe in the city. I lose. I'm here now away from all that because who wants to be part of that! Not me.
Well mr campbell, those two matches you sounded ok going into.
I'm a good actor. I put smile on my face and went out there. Doing what I had to do, to protect my one and only true love. This happened... my platter plates were taken from me. What about thanksgiving now? What happens at christmas? Do you expect me to use anything but my championship gold? It's a joke... the wrestling business isn't what it was anymore. You used to bust people faces open and drop them on the unforgiving unpadded cement flooring. Now... you have a pig as the x* crown champion.
You let your guard down. If you only listened to your head more than your heart. This wouldn't have been an issue. It would not have happened. You would've celebrated that match the next morning with some of the freshest, juiciest bacon.
You don't even know me. You shut your drunk mouth over there, keep your head down and don't beat into me anymore than I'm beating myself.
I know you. You wish I didn't know you.
Harold, are you talking to someone?
YEAH! That asshole at the end of the bar over there. You probably can't hear his voice over the dust storm outside. But he's talking... very feint. He's shy from what I gather. He thinks just because he's possibly seen my matches or promos before. That he knows me.
I know you better than that...
Whatever buddy. This empty glass knows me better than you. It's been listening to my rumbling and grumbling for days. It's been catching my tears... YEAH I'M NEARLY 50 years old and I CRY! Fight me about it. You don't know nothing. So put your head down and stay out of my business. Or else... there will be trouble.
Heh...
I regret alot of things. I wish I never invited mongo over to cloud my mind. My legacy would still intact, now whenver you see the name harold campbell in the record books. It will be like one of those obnoxious birthday cards that sing to you. Except instead when you open it up... it will just laugh.
If only you didn't put me away. If only you didn't abuse the medicine the doctors gave you so my voice became voiceless.
Now that you say it, I can kind of hear that man. Sounds alittle familiar but he's definitely there. Almost sounds like you... haha.
*Harold picks his face slowly from the bottom of the whiskey glass. Turns it in the direction of the network media crew. A small smirk comes across his face, as he slowly puts it back down*
I uh... so you most likely deserve a rematch.
Most likely? I was champion for almost 9 years.
I mean... You do deserve one and that's one of the...
No! You said most likely. Who else is deserving of a title opportunity in that sham of a network? Sylvester the cat? How about mr potato head? NO ONE!
*Harry smacks the glass off the bar. It crashes off the wall and into little pieces. Hardcore Harry slams his fists on the bar over and over again... and then throws his stool against the wall. The building makes a creaking sound. We hear what sounds like a piece of wood breaking in the ceiling...*
I think I better go.... like now....
NO! You came here for whatever reason. Maybe trying to make your name in journalism. Or maybe you came here to kiss a little ass. Probably one of the xhf networks best yes men. BUT I AM NO LONGER A YES MAN! I will take action. I will be put into action. I've forgot how much hardcore harry meant to me. All these years having him on meds and suppressing him from coming into my life. Why? He makes my life feel better. Sure harold is crazy but he can't be taken serious. He's goofy all of the time. Isn't better to be violent. I feel more complete. Stable. I could do anything to anyone... anyone standing in front of me could be subject to unnecessary violence. He tells me to hurt you.
Yes.
You.
All of you over the world.
But right now, more specifically. One guy the one standing in front of me and the one who witnessed the awakening. He wants me to take some of that glass and do things I wouldn't be able to take back. He wants me to scar you like I've been scarred over the years. He wants me to rip your scalp over your head and shatter your skull. His way of thinking is so much better.
Unfiltered.
Unclean.
But justified. Afterall he's been locked away for years. His way of thinking and handling things is much more clear.
And efficient.
Why do I keep referring to him as he?
I am he.
He is no longer being pushed away, instead he's being pulled into the light. As the gods above shine down and disapprove of this awakening. Gods... what do they know. They know as much as the doctors who told me it was better this way. It's not. Everything in due time will be better....
**As fragile and dangerous this building was thought to be. It's now falling in on itself. Pillars falling from the roofing. Nearly hitting the film crew for the network. They are scrambling to leave. As harry just slowly waves.**
I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow the house down.... at end of days.
Mr. Campbell? Sorry to bug you but we have been looking for you for quite some time. We don't want to be rude, I'm sure you're going through things after what happened... happened. Most everyone is concerned though, since your disappearance. We want to help you be you again. Get on with your life.
Help me... be me? That ship sailed years ago buddy boy. Recent events have showed only that I was a fool. What you want is something that can't be achieved anymore. Maybe a couple weeks ago there was a slim chance of that happening but... I lost to a fucking pig man. I was a fool like I said. I had a good thing going while sitting in my trailer mansion, collected easy paychecks and putting smiles on the faces of people who cared. Who cared to think of me when they needed their manchild to smile again or wife to be have one more night of single life. I gave a hell of birthday party... I gave a hell of a bachelorette party. But those days are done. Mongo made a fool of me again. He got me up and active again. I got myself all hyped up to be competitive again the wrestling world. At my age that's a dream. A dream I had every night for the past 8 or so years when I was the longest reigning, never defending x* crown champion. Within two months of being back... being active again... I get jerked around all wrong. What is this business anymore? It's clearly not a sport anymore that's for sure. It's a shit show, this wrestling business has gone and crapped all over itself for the finale time. I thought I was coming back in for all the right reasons. To defend the most prestigious title to ever grave the squared circle. Instead I get thrown into one of these carny ran shit shows. I get put up against a pig. Not a reeshi, not a venom, not even a destruction. A walk on all fours pig. Not someone fat who loves cake, so they eat the entire cake in one sitting pig. A literal piggie. Oink... fucking babe in the city. I lose. I'm here now away from all that because who wants to be part of that! Not me.
Well mr campbell, those two matches you sounded ok going into.
I'm a good actor. I put smile on my face and went out there. Doing what I had to do, to protect my one and only true love. This happened... my platter plates were taken from me. What about thanksgiving now? What happens at christmas? Do you expect me to use anything but my championship gold? It's a joke... the wrestling business isn't what it was anymore. You used to bust people faces open and drop them on the unforgiving unpadded cement flooring. Now... you have a pig as the x* crown champion.
You let your guard down. If you only listened to your head more than your heart. This wouldn't have been an issue. It would not have happened. You would've celebrated that match the next morning with some of the freshest, juiciest bacon.
You don't even know me. You shut your drunk mouth over there, keep your head down and don't beat into me anymore than I'm beating myself.
I know you. You wish I didn't know you.
Harold, are you talking to someone?
YEAH! That asshole at the end of the bar over there. You probably can't hear his voice over the dust storm outside. But he's talking... very feint. He's shy from what I gather. He thinks just because he's possibly seen my matches or promos before. That he knows me.
I know you better than that...
Whatever buddy. This empty glass knows me better than you. It's been listening to my rumbling and grumbling for days. It's been catching my tears... YEAH I'M NEARLY 50 years old and I CRY! Fight me about it. You don't know nothing. So put your head down and stay out of my business. Or else... there will be trouble.
Heh...
I regret alot of things. I wish I never invited mongo over to cloud my mind. My legacy would still intact, now whenver you see the name harold campbell in the record books. It will be like one of those obnoxious birthday cards that sing to you. Except instead when you open it up... it will just laugh.
If only you didn't put me away. If only you didn't abuse the medicine the doctors gave you so my voice became voiceless.
Now that you say it, I can kind of hear that man. Sounds alittle familiar but he's definitely there. Almost sounds like you... haha.
*Harold picks his face slowly from the bottom of the whiskey glass. Turns it in the direction of the network media crew. A small smirk comes across his face, as he slowly puts it back down*
I uh... so you most likely deserve a rematch.
Most likely? I was champion for almost 9 years.
I mean... You do deserve one and that's one of the...
No! You said most likely. Who else is deserving of a title opportunity in that sham of a network? Sylvester the cat? How about mr potato head? NO ONE!
*Harry smacks the glass off the bar. It crashes off the wall and into little pieces. Hardcore Harry slams his fists on the bar over and over again... and then throws his stool against the wall. The building makes a creaking sound. We hear what sounds like a piece of wood breaking in the ceiling...*
I think I better go.... like now....
NO! You came here for whatever reason. Maybe trying to make your name in journalism. Or maybe you came here to kiss a little ass. Probably one of the xhf networks best yes men. BUT I AM NO LONGER A YES MAN! I will take action. I will be put into action. I've forgot how much hardcore harry meant to me. All these years having him on meds and suppressing him from coming into my life. Why? He makes my life feel better. Sure harold is crazy but he can't be taken serious. He's goofy all of the time. Isn't better to be violent. I feel more complete. Stable. I could do anything to anyone... anyone standing in front of me could be subject to unnecessary violence. He tells me to hurt you.
Yes.
You.
All of you over the world.
But right now, more specifically. One guy the one standing in front of me and the one who witnessed the awakening. He wants me to take some of that glass and do things I wouldn't be able to take back. He wants me to scar you like I've been scarred over the years. He wants me to rip your scalp over your head and shatter your skull. His way of thinking is so much better.
Unfiltered.
Unclean.
But justified. Afterall he's been locked away for years. His way of thinking and handling things is much more clear.
And efficient.
Why do I keep referring to him as he?
I am he.
He is no longer being pushed away, instead he's being pulled into the light. As the gods above shine down and disapprove of this awakening. Gods... what do they know. They know as much as the doctors who told me it was better this way. It's not. Everything in due time will be better....
**As fragile and dangerous this building was thought to be. It's now falling in on itself. Pillars falling from the roofing. Nearly hitting the film crew for the network. They are scrambling to leave. As harry just slowly waves.**
I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow the house down.... at end of days.
