[ANDREWS] Decidedly Un-Happy Slapping (vs Dylan Black)
Oct 30, 2017 16:51:59 GMT -5
𝓓𝓾𝓴𝓮 𝓚𝓸𝓼𝓵𝓸𝓯𝓯 likes this
Post by Steele on Oct 30, 2017 16:51:59 GMT -5
AK slammed his suitcase shut and cursed under his breath. The dingy hotel room looked like it had seen much better days; tobacco smoke-stained curtains barely long enough to fit the grimy windows, the faded wallpaper peeled and curled up at the edges. The bedspread was a mess of various bodily fluids and probably lice and...
"Fuck Sake!" blasted AK as he spotted the charger for his iPhone hidden among the folds of the horrendous comforter. He reluctantly undid the clasp on his case, and the lid flew open, depositing his clothes back onto the bed.
He looked at the pile of disappointment with a withering stare in a vain effort to intimidate it into submission. It didn't work, unsurprisingly.
He dropped down onto the edge of the bed with an exasperated sigh, and pulled a tobacco tin out of his jacket pocket. Taking out a pre-rolled one he put it in his mouth and lit it, relishing the flavor as he exhaled a plume of smoke against the window, obscuring an oft-ignored "No Smoking" sticker.
AK's phone rang, and he looked at the screen, rolling his eyes as the caller ID showed the name of Jonesy, AK's best friend in the world.
"What do you want, you fat ginger fuck?" said AK, lovingly. It had been a few weeks since they had last spoken, as AK took care of some loose ends after leaving FIW.
"Oh, that's a fine way to speak to your best mate, innit?" moaned Jonesy. "I just wanted to let you know, I'm making sure your mum is being properly looked after while you're away, you get me?"
"Oh fuck off mate." AK snapped. Jonesy didn't let up.
"So anyway, while I was goin' down on her last night, she tells me her little Andy-Pandy's off to Russia!"
AK scoffed. "Yeah, that's right. Firestorm Wrestling Alliance."
Jonesy laughed. "Oh, aye? So they're in Russia - and where are you right now?"
AK seethed. "Is that important right now?"
"Well... not very, I suppose," chuckled Jonesy, "Unless you were in, oh, I don't know - Ohio, perhaps."
AK silently stewed as he tried to imagine ways he could hurt Jonesy over the phone. Jonesy continued; "So when I heard that you'd signed with this Russian FWA place but you'd been tweeting and facebooking from Cleveland Airport, I had a little snoop and wouldn't you just know it, there's this little fed called AWF in Bethesda, Ohio!"
AK Andrews was widely regarded as one of the most insane, hardcore mentalists to ever step foot inside the squared circle. I mean, he wasn't as well known as say, a Terry Funk or a Mick Foley, but he had his fans. Unfortunately, fifty per cent of those fans were on the phone to him right now, mocking him.
"And- call this a MASSIVE coincidence, right- but not only do they have an incredibly similar name to the place you're going to work for, but they're also part of the XHF Network!"
AK clenched his jaw so hard his teeth nearly shattered.
"Alright!" he snapped, "I fucked up! I signed for FWA, I looked them up, I saw AWF and I went to the wrong fucking town!"
"You went to the wrong fucking country, mate." added Jonesy, helpfully. AK found his comment to be of no comfort.
"Sod off. Anyone could make that mistake. Anyway - did you actually have a reason for phoning me up or are you just calling for the lulz?"
Jonesy was silent for a moment, then; "Mostly for the lulz. But partly to catch up too. I ain't heard from you in weeks then all of a sudden I get told you're going to fuckin' Russia!? Why? Why Russia? Good God, why Russia?"
"Why Russia?" said AK, "Because they've got what I want. Violence. FIW was fun and all... making Icon wear those stupid fuckin' Hulk Hands in our tournament final was ten grand well spent. But then they went and put me up against Hikou Sekai a bunch of times, fuckin' screwed me out of my number-one contendership-"
Jonesy didn't miss an opportunity to dig at AK again.
"Ah, so you couldn't beat this Hikou guy so you threw a tantrum and quit."
"Right. NO - Fuck off, that's not why I quit! I got screwed repeatedly!" Lied AK. Jonesy decided to give him a little reality check.
"Oh yeah, you got totally screwed. Hey, remember that time someone else bought a stipulation for your match so that no matter if you won or lost, you'd either get a title shot or stay in the tournament? Remember when it happened in the next round as well? Yeah, you got so screwed, mate."
"Alright!" Ak protested. "So I wasn't always getting screwed over. Still - FIW wasn't the right place for me. FWA is. And I'm starting out in familiar territory - another tournament for me to win."
"You know there probably won't be an auction where you can buy stipulations this time, right?"
"That doesn't matter, because this place is fuckin' hardcore! That's the best thing about the Russkies - they don't give a fuck! There's none of this 'Health and Safety' bollocks like back home in England. As long as I make sure not to offend the goblin that runs the country then I've got scart fuckin' branch mate."
"Carte blanche. I know you didn't pay attention in school but Jesus, Frech was piss-easy. So who's this Dylan Black guy you're up against in the first round?"
AK gave Jonesy a raised-eyebrow look, even though Jonesy couldn't see him, what with being in another country and all.
"You've been doing your homework then? I don't know much about him, really. he's been in feds that I haven't really followed. Nothing personal like, that's just how it went. He put out his fuckin' life story though in the lead-up to our match, trying to play the nostalgia angle and shit. Remind everyone that he's some kind of big-shot who used to lead the bullet club and all. Well I say; fuck that. You don't see ME posting up my life story, or getting a posse of hangers-on to do my fucking bidding."
"That's because your childhood was spent in fucking borstal and besides, I'm the only fucker that might think about getting in between you and some other roided-up freak. MIGHT think about it." said Jonesy, dryly.
"Piss off, fucking 'borstal!' I went into a DT once or twice for twockin' and scrapping, yeah, but you're making me out to be like some Victorian bloody urchin begging and stealing loaves of bread!" AK spat, clearly annoyed at Jonesy's suggestion he spent his childhood behind bars in an outdated form of juvenile punishment. Jonesy corrected his statement.
"Oh I do apologise Alex, I forgot that you only sometimes nicked cars and happy-slapped the elderly."
AK gave a wistful chuckle. "Ah... I miss happy-slapping." he sighed. "But just for the record, the slapping I give to Dylan Black in this tournament will be decidedly un-happy."
Jonesy cut in with; "Wow, there's promo gold if ever I heard it. You sure you didn't steal that one off The Rock?"
"Shut your whore mouth Jonesy, that's an AK-original and everyone's gonna be wearing it on a T-Shirt some day. When I'm the first FWA Champion, you'll be first in line to buy a "DECIDEDLY UN-HAPPY SLAPPING" T-Shirt!"
Jonesy laughed, and realised that he probably would buy that T-Shirt. Nobody else would, but Jonesy... well, he might.
"The rest of the field looks pretty stacked, too. That Ozymandias bloke looks fucking hench. If you come up against him then he'll proper flatten you I reckon!"
AK was unimpressed by his best friend's flippant attitude towards his chances. "If I end up against Ozymandias then he'd better hope his mask is fuckin' bullet-proof if he doesn't wanna be eating through a straw for the next six months courtesy of my... little friend..." AK looked down at the contents of his bag strewn across the depressing bed and patted his ring-bell, stolen from FIW.
"AK, look, I know you like 'em ripped but I;m sure Ozymandias doesn't wanna suck your-"
AK exploded on him. "IF YOU SAY 'DICK' THEN I SWEAR TO GOD JONESY THAT IT'S GONNA BE YOU SUCKING IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING PHONE! I AM NOT FUCKING GAY!"
Jonesy just laughed. "Well you better stop acting like a fuckin' poof then before you go to Russia - they don't take too kindly to it over there!"
AK let out a pissed-off grunt and took another long drag of his cigarette, finishing it and immediately pulling out another one and sparking that one up.
"Anyway, Ozymandias is way, way in the future. Once I get past Dylan Black I'll be taking on either Rob Wyatt or Lethe."
"Any preference who you face?"
"Not really. Wouldn't mind wrestling the bint though, if you know what I mean..."
"You're not fooling anybody, AK, you want Wyatt."
Ak snapped back; "Wyatt, Lethe, I don't give a shit! They'll all go the same way as Dylan Black, and that's down!" he then quickly added; "And NO, I DO NOT mean down on ME, before you say anything. Whoever I go up against - Black, Lethe, Ozymandias, Rayburn, Dackle, Grace or Wyatt - they're all gonna wish they never set foot in FWA. Because I'm gonna own that motherfucker, and prove that I'm the king of hard-fucking-core!"
"Ha!" laughed Jonesy. "The only hardcore thing you're the king of is-"
AK had heard enough. He hung up the phone and threw it down onto the pile of clothes and toiletries that littered the bed. He thought for a moment, and then allowed himself a half-grin; Jonesy gave him a lot of stick but he knew he didn't mean it. If anything, Jonesy's constant prodding and making fun of AK just spurred him on even more. A wrestler of his small stature couldn't survive long without an intense drive inside of him, and it was that intense drive that Jonesy's constant needling gave him.
AK stubbed out his roll-up on the dresser, and turned back to his bag to re-pack. He hoped that come the first episode of ColdWar that his intense drive would serve him well again, as it had done many times before.
Soon he would leave Ohio, and America itself, to head for Russia and the FWA.
"Fuck Sake!" blasted AK as he spotted the charger for his iPhone hidden among the folds of the horrendous comforter. He reluctantly undid the clasp on his case, and the lid flew open, depositing his clothes back onto the bed.
He looked at the pile of disappointment with a withering stare in a vain effort to intimidate it into submission. It didn't work, unsurprisingly.
He dropped down onto the edge of the bed with an exasperated sigh, and pulled a tobacco tin out of his jacket pocket. Taking out a pre-rolled one he put it in his mouth and lit it, relishing the flavor as he exhaled a plume of smoke against the window, obscuring an oft-ignored "No Smoking" sticker.
AK's phone rang, and he looked at the screen, rolling his eyes as the caller ID showed the name of Jonesy, AK's best friend in the world.
"What do you want, you fat ginger fuck?" said AK, lovingly. It had been a few weeks since they had last spoken, as AK took care of some loose ends after leaving FIW.
"Oh, that's a fine way to speak to your best mate, innit?" moaned Jonesy. "I just wanted to let you know, I'm making sure your mum is being properly looked after while you're away, you get me?"
"Oh fuck off mate." AK snapped. Jonesy didn't let up.
"So anyway, while I was goin' down on her last night, she tells me her little Andy-Pandy's off to Russia!"
AK scoffed. "Yeah, that's right. Firestorm Wrestling Alliance."
Jonesy laughed. "Oh, aye? So they're in Russia - and where are you right now?"
AK seethed. "Is that important right now?"
"Well... not very, I suppose," chuckled Jonesy, "Unless you were in, oh, I don't know - Ohio, perhaps."
AK silently stewed as he tried to imagine ways he could hurt Jonesy over the phone. Jonesy continued; "So when I heard that you'd signed with this Russian FWA place but you'd been tweeting and facebooking from Cleveland Airport, I had a little snoop and wouldn't you just know it, there's this little fed called AWF in Bethesda, Ohio!"
AK Andrews was widely regarded as one of the most insane, hardcore mentalists to ever step foot inside the squared circle. I mean, he wasn't as well known as say, a Terry Funk or a Mick Foley, but he had his fans. Unfortunately, fifty per cent of those fans were on the phone to him right now, mocking him.
"And- call this a MASSIVE coincidence, right- but not only do they have an incredibly similar name to the place you're going to work for, but they're also part of the XHF Network!"
AK clenched his jaw so hard his teeth nearly shattered.
"Alright!" he snapped, "I fucked up! I signed for FWA, I looked them up, I saw AWF and I went to the wrong fucking town!"
"You went to the wrong fucking country, mate." added Jonesy, helpfully. AK found his comment to be of no comfort.
"Sod off. Anyone could make that mistake. Anyway - did you actually have a reason for phoning me up or are you just calling for the lulz?"
Jonesy was silent for a moment, then; "Mostly for the lulz. But partly to catch up too. I ain't heard from you in weeks then all of a sudden I get told you're going to fuckin' Russia!? Why? Why Russia? Good God, why Russia?"
"Why Russia?" said AK, "Because they've got what I want. Violence. FIW was fun and all... making Icon wear those stupid fuckin' Hulk Hands in our tournament final was ten grand well spent. But then they went and put me up against Hikou Sekai a bunch of times, fuckin' screwed me out of my number-one contendership-"
Jonesy didn't miss an opportunity to dig at AK again.
"Ah, so you couldn't beat this Hikou guy so you threw a tantrum and quit."
"Right. NO - Fuck off, that's not why I quit! I got screwed repeatedly!" Lied AK. Jonesy decided to give him a little reality check.
"Oh yeah, you got totally screwed. Hey, remember that time someone else bought a stipulation for your match so that no matter if you won or lost, you'd either get a title shot or stay in the tournament? Remember when it happened in the next round as well? Yeah, you got so screwed, mate."
"Alright!" Ak protested. "So I wasn't always getting screwed over. Still - FIW wasn't the right place for me. FWA is. And I'm starting out in familiar territory - another tournament for me to win."
"You know there probably won't be an auction where you can buy stipulations this time, right?"
"That doesn't matter, because this place is fuckin' hardcore! That's the best thing about the Russkies - they don't give a fuck! There's none of this 'Health and Safety' bollocks like back home in England. As long as I make sure not to offend the goblin that runs the country then I've got scart fuckin' branch mate."
"Carte blanche. I know you didn't pay attention in school but Jesus, Frech was piss-easy. So who's this Dylan Black guy you're up against in the first round?"
AK gave Jonesy a raised-eyebrow look, even though Jonesy couldn't see him, what with being in another country and all.
"You've been doing your homework then? I don't know much about him, really. he's been in feds that I haven't really followed. Nothing personal like, that's just how it went. He put out his fuckin' life story though in the lead-up to our match, trying to play the nostalgia angle and shit. Remind everyone that he's some kind of big-shot who used to lead the bullet club and all. Well I say; fuck that. You don't see ME posting up my life story, or getting a posse of hangers-on to do my fucking bidding."
"That's because your childhood was spent in fucking borstal and besides, I'm the only fucker that might think about getting in between you and some other roided-up freak. MIGHT think about it." said Jonesy, dryly.
"Piss off, fucking 'borstal!' I went into a DT once or twice for twockin' and scrapping, yeah, but you're making me out to be like some Victorian bloody urchin begging and stealing loaves of bread!" AK spat, clearly annoyed at Jonesy's suggestion he spent his childhood behind bars in an outdated form of juvenile punishment. Jonesy corrected his statement.
"Oh I do apologise Alex, I forgot that you only sometimes nicked cars and happy-slapped the elderly."
AK gave a wistful chuckle. "Ah... I miss happy-slapping." he sighed. "But just for the record, the slapping I give to Dylan Black in this tournament will be decidedly un-happy."
Jonesy cut in with; "Wow, there's promo gold if ever I heard it. You sure you didn't steal that one off The Rock?"
"Shut your whore mouth Jonesy, that's an AK-original and everyone's gonna be wearing it on a T-Shirt some day. When I'm the first FWA Champion, you'll be first in line to buy a "DECIDEDLY UN-HAPPY SLAPPING" T-Shirt!"
Jonesy laughed, and realised that he probably would buy that T-Shirt. Nobody else would, but Jonesy... well, he might.
"The rest of the field looks pretty stacked, too. That Ozymandias bloke looks fucking hench. If you come up against him then he'll proper flatten you I reckon!"
AK was unimpressed by his best friend's flippant attitude towards his chances. "If I end up against Ozymandias then he'd better hope his mask is fuckin' bullet-proof if he doesn't wanna be eating through a straw for the next six months courtesy of my... little friend..." AK looked down at the contents of his bag strewn across the depressing bed and patted his ring-bell, stolen from FIW.
"AK, look, I know you like 'em ripped but I;m sure Ozymandias doesn't wanna suck your-"
AK exploded on him. "IF YOU SAY 'DICK' THEN I SWEAR TO GOD JONESY THAT IT'S GONNA BE YOU SUCKING IT THROUGH YOUR FUCKING PHONE! I AM NOT FUCKING GAY!"
Jonesy just laughed. "Well you better stop acting like a fuckin' poof then before you go to Russia - they don't take too kindly to it over there!"
AK let out a pissed-off grunt and took another long drag of his cigarette, finishing it and immediately pulling out another one and sparking that one up.
"Anyway, Ozymandias is way, way in the future. Once I get past Dylan Black I'll be taking on either Rob Wyatt or Lethe."
"Any preference who you face?"
"Not really. Wouldn't mind wrestling the bint though, if you know what I mean..."
"You're not fooling anybody, AK, you want Wyatt."
Ak snapped back; "Wyatt, Lethe, I don't give a shit! They'll all go the same way as Dylan Black, and that's down!" he then quickly added; "And NO, I DO NOT mean down on ME, before you say anything. Whoever I go up against - Black, Lethe, Ozymandias, Rayburn, Dackle, Grace or Wyatt - they're all gonna wish they never set foot in FWA. Because I'm gonna own that motherfucker, and prove that I'm the king of hard-fucking-core!"
"Ha!" laughed Jonesy. "The only hardcore thing you're the king of is-"
AK had heard enough. He hung up the phone and threw it down onto the pile of clothes and toiletries that littered the bed. He thought for a moment, and then allowed himself a half-grin; Jonesy gave him a lot of stick but he knew he didn't mean it. If anything, Jonesy's constant prodding and making fun of AK just spurred him on even more. A wrestler of his small stature couldn't survive long without an intense drive inside of him, and it was that intense drive that Jonesy's constant needling gave him.
AK stubbed out his roll-up on the dresser, and turned back to his bag to re-pack. He hoped that come the first episode of ColdWar that his intense drive would serve him well again, as it had done many times before.
Soon he would leave Ohio, and America itself, to head for Russia and the FWA.