Post by Technical Perfection on Feb 8, 2018 16:33:36 GMT -5
Big Chris and Taane are chilling out in their new, shared house in the cheap side of Boston. Taane walks towards the door, only for his larger Samoan counterpart to look up and question him
Big Chris: T? Where you off to?
Taane: Brah, I gotta hit the gym. Got a fight coming up and I need to get my lifting in. Hit the weights, understand?
Big Chris: Yeah I get ya. Cool to tag along?
Taane: Dude, you tagged along all the way to Boston with me. I ain’t kicking you to the kerb for a gym session.
Big Chris: Sweet. I gotta lift something myself. Gonna get in shape. Impress the tamaitai with my sick peaks.
Taane: Not winning them over with your sick manava, brah?
Big Chris: Dude, the sometimes ladies want a comfier ride, dig?
Taane: Yeah, you tell yourself that, man. Get your gut under control.
Big Chris: Hey I’ve been sticking to some of your diet advice. Stay off the red meats. Eat a bit more mahi-mahi.
Taane: That’s cool.
Big Chris: Makes for a great pizza.
Taane: Dude, if you’re gonna eat healthier shit like swordfish or mahi-mahi, don’t go dumping it on a pizza.
Big Chris: Why not?
Taane: It ain’t helping.
Big Chris: You’re saying a mahi-mahi topped pizza ain’t healthier than one with pepperoni?
Taane: I’m saying that pizza ain’t good for you, brah.
Big Chris: Period?
Taane: Period.
Big Chris: Stupid rules. Besides, any fine women would feel blessed, BLESSED to have a guy with my wit, my charm, my great looks in their life.
Taane: Yeah, for sure. I see them queueing up just to suck your dick right down the street.
Big Chris: Alright, big shot. We gonna ride out this weekend, we gonna hit the clubs and we gonna see who can get a girl.
Taane: Dude, women ain’t prizes. This ain’t a competition.
Big Chris: Fine, Mister Renaissance Man. But Imma get one faster than you.
Taane: Don’t you be coming over like a creep.
Big Chris: Hey, I promise to treat them right. Ladies are special to me, brah.
Taane: Cool. Because “Wrestler’s best friend is creepy fuck,” ain’t the sort of headline I want on social media.
Big Chris: All about them hits, son.
Taane: Well you start acting like a freak and the only hits you’ll be getting is me, upside your stupid head.
Big Chris: Told.
Taane: Cool. Then let’s bring a little West Coast hype...
Big Chris: WEST COAST HYYYYYYYYYYPE!
Taane: ...To Boston.
Big Chris: Ain’t nobody gonna know what hit them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHOOO-HOOO! What up Combat Wrestling? It’s your boy Taane, back here again. I got my mic, I got my camera, I got all the time in the world to fire off for your listening pleasure. Let’s do this shit.
Pride. Pretty big word for my contest this week. Pretty damn important. Sure, there’s a world championship at stake somewhere down the line. But I ain’t about to get ahead of myself. Lotta good wrestlers up for the big gold. Lotta big talents. That’s cool. But I overlook my opponent, I look to the horizon when the road in front of me has gotta big ol’ truck on it then shit ain’t gonna go my way.
So pride. Pride is an important concept to grasp. Lucas Walker He’s a proud man. Proud of who he is. Proud of where he comes from. Represent for that dirty, down home, backwoods South. Some dumb fuck is gonna play poke the bear on Big Luc’ and make fun of his background. And I hope he breaks open that metaphorical shotgun of a boot, slides a fat 12 gauge slug into the chamber and lays them the fuck out.
I respect that. I respect because I understand. I rep for a ton of places. The US of A. Cali. Silicon Valley. The 408. New Zealand. Bay Of Plenty. Sulphur City. Samoa for my momma. Polynesia as a whole for my people. I’ve seen the tapes of people going for my daddy because of who he was. So when someone comes round and calls you out on who you are Luc’, and it will happen, Count on this ‘Nesian to have your back. Count on it because I can respect who you are.
And it’s ‘cause of who you, ‘cause of that respect that I’m gonna do my best to beat the shit outta you. And I’m imagining you hearing that sentence and a grin forming across your face. Don’t get it twisted, fans. Ain’t no hatred shit going on. I love to fight. I love to throw down. And I’m glad that I get to face a guy who I reckon feels the damn same. Gonna get wild in that ring.
I ain’t gonna try anything underhand. I ain’t gonna do anything sly, anything dark and round the fringes of the rules. Imma smack you in the mouth. We ain’t gonna put on a clinic. We gonna fight. And Imma guess that’s just how you want it, too. Ain’t no bigger show of respect I can offer than that.
Oh and I’m fast. I don’t think you can cope with my speed. I’m like a ghost to someone moving at your speed. You are gonna swing at air a lot in our match. Because I can be where you’re not aiming. And then I can adjust my sights, turn on a dime and charge full on one more time. Don’t matter if I’m driving my shoulder into your sternum, firing my arm across your throat or leaping off the mat to put all that body weight across you, you’re an easier target to hit than I am. Hitting that target is gonna be key. And I’m gonna do it again and again and a-fucking-gain.
Now Luc’. I know that you love to hunt. And there ain’t no pride in fighting prey that don’t fight back. I bet you got more bears and shit on your kill count than helpless old deer. Sort of guy I reckon you are. Well I ain’t never been hunting game. But I hunted on the pitch. And I never got the thrill from taking down a QB or a squirmy little back that I did from dropping my shoulder on a damn beast of a back row and taking them down to the turf.
Taking down the biggest, baddest men I could find. That’s how I played. And now that’s how I’m gonna have to fight. Because you are one big fuck. One tall glass of water. Some people would walk into our little match and ask themselves, “How the fuck do I get round that?” That ain’t me. I ain’t going round. I’m going through.
Bigger dog in the fight. That’s a position you’re used to, right Luc’? See I don’t have to have your strength or your power, Luc’. All I gotta to have is the strength to lift you and start throwing you around. And you pack guns for hunting, that’s cool. I gotta guns for lifting. Check me. You’re a big unit. But I can haul bigger units around than you’d expect. I got trained how to lift my daddy. And he’s packing a good 70 pounds more than you are.
So Imma get to throwing bombs with my hands and throwing you around the ring like you ain’t used to. I don’t get the sense you’re gonna underestimate me for a damn hot second. So you’re gonna throw what you got back at me. And I’m so freakishly cool with that everybody else in the fed is gonna be put on notice. You’re gonna hunt me. I’m gonna hunt you. Deadliest prey and all that shit. Sounds like a damn fine way to spend an evening.
And when it all comes to a close, when you’re all spent, when your tank is all dry, my reserves are still gonna be hot. I am a physical freak. When all that gets through, you get lifted up onto my shoulders, you get spun out, you get crashed to the mat face and chest first and you black out.
ALL Blackout.
BTDT.
Big Chris: T? Where you off to?
Taane: Brah, I gotta hit the gym. Got a fight coming up and I need to get my lifting in. Hit the weights, understand?
Big Chris: Yeah I get ya. Cool to tag along?
Taane: Dude, you tagged along all the way to Boston with me. I ain’t kicking you to the kerb for a gym session.
Big Chris: Sweet. I gotta lift something myself. Gonna get in shape. Impress the tamaitai with my sick peaks.
Taane: Not winning them over with your sick manava, brah?
Big Chris: Dude, the sometimes ladies want a comfier ride, dig?
Taane: Yeah, you tell yourself that, man. Get your gut under control.
Big Chris: Hey I’ve been sticking to some of your diet advice. Stay off the red meats. Eat a bit more mahi-mahi.
Taane: That’s cool.
Big Chris: Makes for a great pizza.
Taane: Dude, if you’re gonna eat healthier shit like swordfish or mahi-mahi, don’t go dumping it on a pizza.
Big Chris: Why not?
Taane: It ain’t helping.
Big Chris: You’re saying a mahi-mahi topped pizza ain’t healthier than one with pepperoni?
Taane: I’m saying that pizza ain’t good for you, brah.
Big Chris: Period?
Taane: Period.
Big Chris: Stupid rules. Besides, any fine women would feel blessed, BLESSED to have a guy with my wit, my charm, my great looks in their life.
Taane: Yeah, for sure. I see them queueing up just to suck your dick right down the street.
Big Chris: Alright, big shot. We gonna ride out this weekend, we gonna hit the clubs and we gonna see who can get a girl.
Taane: Dude, women ain’t prizes. This ain’t a competition.
Big Chris: Fine, Mister Renaissance Man. But Imma get one faster than you.
Taane: Don’t you be coming over like a creep.
Big Chris: Hey, I promise to treat them right. Ladies are special to me, brah.
Taane: Cool. Because “Wrestler’s best friend is creepy fuck,” ain’t the sort of headline I want on social media.
Big Chris: All about them hits, son.
Taane: Well you start acting like a freak and the only hits you’ll be getting is me, upside your stupid head.
Big Chris: Told.
Taane: Cool. Then let’s bring a little West Coast hype...
Big Chris: WEST COAST HYYYYYYYYYYPE!
Taane: ...To Boston.
Big Chris: Ain’t nobody gonna know what hit them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHOOO-HOOO! What up Combat Wrestling? It’s your boy Taane, back here again. I got my mic, I got my camera, I got all the time in the world to fire off for your listening pleasure. Let’s do this shit.
Pride. Pretty big word for my contest this week. Pretty damn important. Sure, there’s a world championship at stake somewhere down the line. But I ain’t about to get ahead of myself. Lotta good wrestlers up for the big gold. Lotta big talents. That’s cool. But I overlook my opponent, I look to the horizon when the road in front of me has gotta big ol’ truck on it then shit ain’t gonna go my way.
So pride. Pride is an important concept to grasp. Lucas Walker He’s a proud man. Proud of who he is. Proud of where he comes from. Represent for that dirty, down home, backwoods South. Some dumb fuck is gonna play poke the bear on Big Luc’ and make fun of his background. And I hope he breaks open that metaphorical shotgun of a boot, slides a fat 12 gauge slug into the chamber and lays them the fuck out.
I respect that. I respect because I understand. I rep for a ton of places. The US of A. Cali. Silicon Valley. The 408. New Zealand. Bay Of Plenty. Sulphur City. Samoa for my momma. Polynesia as a whole for my people. I’ve seen the tapes of people going for my daddy because of who he was. So when someone comes round and calls you out on who you are Luc’, and it will happen, Count on this ‘Nesian to have your back. Count on it because I can respect who you are.
And it’s ‘cause of who you, ‘cause of that respect that I’m gonna do my best to beat the shit outta you. And I’m imagining you hearing that sentence and a grin forming across your face. Don’t get it twisted, fans. Ain’t no hatred shit going on. I love to fight. I love to throw down. And I’m glad that I get to face a guy who I reckon feels the damn same. Gonna get wild in that ring.
I ain’t gonna try anything underhand. I ain’t gonna do anything sly, anything dark and round the fringes of the rules. Imma smack you in the mouth. We ain’t gonna put on a clinic. We gonna fight. And Imma guess that’s just how you want it, too. Ain’t no bigger show of respect I can offer than that.
Oh and I’m fast. I don’t think you can cope with my speed. I’m like a ghost to someone moving at your speed. You are gonna swing at air a lot in our match. Because I can be where you’re not aiming. And then I can adjust my sights, turn on a dime and charge full on one more time. Don’t matter if I’m driving my shoulder into your sternum, firing my arm across your throat or leaping off the mat to put all that body weight across you, you’re an easier target to hit than I am. Hitting that target is gonna be key. And I’m gonna do it again and again and a-fucking-gain.
Now Luc’. I know that you love to hunt. And there ain’t no pride in fighting prey that don’t fight back. I bet you got more bears and shit on your kill count than helpless old deer. Sort of guy I reckon you are. Well I ain’t never been hunting game. But I hunted on the pitch. And I never got the thrill from taking down a QB or a squirmy little back that I did from dropping my shoulder on a damn beast of a back row and taking them down to the turf.
Taking down the biggest, baddest men I could find. That’s how I played. And now that’s how I’m gonna have to fight. Because you are one big fuck. One tall glass of water. Some people would walk into our little match and ask themselves, “How the fuck do I get round that?” That ain’t me. I ain’t going round. I’m going through.
Bigger dog in the fight. That’s a position you’re used to, right Luc’? See I don’t have to have your strength or your power, Luc’. All I gotta to have is the strength to lift you and start throwing you around. And you pack guns for hunting, that’s cool. I gotta guns for lifting. Check me. You’re a big unit. But I can haul bigger units around than you’d expect. I got trained how to lift my daddy. And he’s packing a good 70 pounds more than you are.
So Imma get to throwing bombs with my hands and throwing you around the ring like you ain’t used to. I don’t get the sense you’re gonna underestimate me for a damn hot second. So you’re gonna throw what you got back at me. And I’m so freakishly cool with that everybody else in the fed is gonna be put on notice. You’re gonna hunt me. I’m gonna hunt you. Deadliest prey and all that shit. Sounds like a damn fine way to spend an evening.
And when it all comes to a close, when you’re all spent, when your tank is all dry, my reserves are still gonna be hot. I am a physical freak. When all that gets through, you get lifted up onto my shoulders, you get spun out, you get crashed to the mat face and chest first and you black out.
ALL Blackout.
BTDT.
