Post by La Familia Price on Jan 28, 2018 21:54:16 GMT -5
I told you I was going to hurt you Steve.
And I did.
Not only did I hurt your body, but I hurt your pride.
1.2.3.
And your winner. J.F.K.
Never thought you'd hear that right Steve?
But hey, the way things are going for you right now maybe you're not that surprised.
La Familia will be here for you Steve, once you remove your head from Roberto's ass.
But continue to get in my way, and I will bury you once and for all.
And Rob.
Thanks for the assist.
But don’t ever get involved in one of my matches again.
Got it boy?
Got it boy?
We open up at a night time gala event. We see a bunch of people exiting the building, all of them dressed in their finest tuxedos and dresses. One in particular stands out as it's the one and only JFK. Looking quite damper in his custom fitted tux, his hair pulled back into a pony tail. He makes his way towards the camera, the shot backs up and we see that he's actually entering a limousine. The camera pans back to get a full view of him sitting in the back seat of the limo, he starts to undo his bow tie a bit before beginning to talk.
"I love events like these. Get to dress up in my finest suit. Get to mingle and rub elbows with some of the smartest and richest people on this planet. Raise money and awareness for a good cause. This is what champions do. This is what a champion looks like. Champions don't sit around and whine and cry about injuries, or short comings they might have. They don't talk about being great, they ARE great.
But you wouldn’t know the first thing about that would you Mohammed?"
He chuckles and shakes his head ever so slightly.
"You've been gone a long time Mohammed, what...five months now? And with what? A sprained knee? Twisted ankle? Some other minor injury Spikey boy gave you? Or maybe, just maybe it was your pride he broke. He has a habit of doin’ that to people you know, breakin’ their pride. It's a knack of his. Whatever your excuse is for not bein’ around the last five months doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, hell Mohammed, YOU don't matter in the grand scheme of things, you might not realize that just yet. But you will. I'll beat it into you this week and maybe then you'll understand. The IWF has left you behind. It has moved on for your hate and anger to bigger and better things. Mainly it's signed better talent than you'll ever be. Because they signed me."
He takes his hair out of the pony tail and shakes his head, his long wavy locks lay to the side of his head.
"It must kill you Mohammed. It must eat you up inside to see all the things I've been earnin’, moving my way up the card, kickin’ ass and takin’ names. It's what I do. But what really must eat you up inside is the fact of who I am, what I am and what I represent. I am the American Monster Mohammed, you've got that right. But that's not just a nickname, it's not just a gimmick. It's a fact of life. I am everything you hate about this country wrapped up in one perfect, and good looking, package."
He holds up a finger for each point he's about to make.
"Former military. White. Rich. Famous. And handsome."
He winks at the camera.
"The thing I don't get about your hate however Mohammed, is the fact that well...you keep comin’ BACK to America. You keep comin’ back to WORK for an American company, you keep cashing your checks from your American boss, in your American bank, to get your American MONEY. You have this chip on your shoulder for America and its people, yet you take full advantage of the freedoms we have, the ability to run your mouth and say whatever you want? That's thanks to the first amendment. You wouldn’t be able to say the things you say on TV in your country, the cursing you do? Would NEVER be allowed. Allowing your wife to have an opinion? Never, not in a million years. It's the freedoms of this country that allow you to say and do as you please yet you still hold this resentment, you harbor this hate. But that's fine, I've seen it before when I served during the Gulf War, and we'll continue to see it, especially from your generation of Muslims. Self-centered, arrogant assholes who think the world revolves around them. But you'll soon learn Mohammed, and I'll be your teacher. And these will be your text books."
He holds up both his fists.
"So yeah, Mohammed I may not know you personally but I've seen the act before, you’re a dime a dozen. You may think you are the best technical wrestler in the IWF, and hell son you very well might be I won't know for sure until I get in that ring with you, but I know for a fact you are not the best technical wrestler I have ever faced. I've been in the ring with legends Mohammed, Hall of Famers, some of the best damn talent this world has EVER seen. And I've beaten them Mohammed. I've beaten the best of the best, I've kicked in the skulls of the best of the best, I buried my own brother who at the time was at the top of his game, was the best damn wrestler anywhere in the world, and I buried him ALIVE. You go on and think I'm just some weak striker with no ground game, go on and underestimate me Mohammed. Make the same mistake as others in the past. And pay the same price."
He runs his hand down over his mouth pulling at the beard he's growing out just a bit, he smiles as he chuckles to himself a bit.
"You insult my city as if I'm from there, yes I reside and call Miami home these days but that's not where I am from, and the fact that you think it's just sun bathers and shoppers lets me know that you don't know shit about the city at all. There are more people here that would rather gut you like a fish and leave you bleeding on the street for that shirt you are wearing than go to the beach. You wouldn’t last five minutes in Liberty City chico, believe dat. They would chew you up and spit you out. Especially with all that cryin’ you're doing, they'd laugh at that before gutting you. "Waaa I was booked in a match I wasn’t prepared for. Waaa I don't like my tag partner, Waaaa I have to get my ASS KICKED by JFK! Waaaa Waaaa Waaaaawwwwshutthefuckup! This is what we do Mohammed, we fucking fight. We fight whoever, wherever they tell us to. That's what we get paid to do, so shut your fuckin’ trap and take your ass beating like a fuckin’ man."
JFK glairs at the camera, his hazel eyes piercing into your soul.
"You can try to do what many before you have failed to do Mohammed. You can try to take me out, you can try to "sacrifice" me for the greater good, try to massacre and slaughter or even obliterate me, you can try to do all these things and more but just like others before you Mohammed, you will fail. As I sit here today telling you, you will fail, I will be sitting here next week telling you HOW you failed. Maybe I drop you on your head and put the final nail in your short pathetic comeback, or maybe I take that arm of yours and snap it off clean at the shoulder. Or maybe, just maybe I put your ass to sleep Sally. However I decide to finish you off, will be a sweet release from the punishment I put you threw to get there. I'm in no mood to play games in the ring anymore Mohammed, I'm not here to steal the show or put on good matches, I'm here to hurt people and get what I want. We both have the same aspirations Mohammed, but only one of us can get what we want. And I sure as hell don't plan on coming up short to someone like you.
What's a Prophet to a Messiah?
What’s a pearl to a diamond?
You find out first hand this week Mohammed.
Suck to be you."
JFK leans forward towards the camera getting in nice and close.
"Allah Akbar that bitch."