Post by Technical Perfection on Feb 22, 2018 14:58:47 GMT -5
CHOOO-HOOO to my army. Let’s get on it with the hot topic. What happened last week? Well, let’s get to the long and the short of it. Mr Generic McBadGuy beat me after some generic cheating. Frankly I should have seen that coming, but then so should the referee. You let me down, ref. You let the fans down, too. Johnny Boots ’n’ Cheats? He’s not capable of beating me clean. So he has to dive into the dark side play book, channel the spirit of what so many have done before him. And better than him at that. Trust me, I’m a student of the damn game. And if I started to name all the people who have done what you are doing, only better then I would be here all damn YEAR. You didn’t deserve to win that match, you don’t deserve to be two matches away from the title and Spike doesn’t deserve to have to risk the future of his promotion by putting it on your shoulders.
Go on, win the tournament. Become Combat champion. You’ll see what happens. NO ONE will watch. Seriously. They will gravitate to more interesting shows on the XHF network. People will be trading tapes of shows with the main event cut off just to avoid watching you and your boring, boring partner. The reason you’re the least popular couple in the locker room isn’t because you’re atrocious people. I mean you are, but that’s not the reason. It’s because you’re so unmemorable that it’s gonna hurt our wallets. Gates will fall with you at the top. Gates will fall. You have a head for business?
Not THIS business.
If you weren’t a MASSIVE racist, I’d have probably forgotten about the events surrounding the match entirely.
~~~~~~~
click
Answer Machine: Yo, this is Va’aiga. I’m not home right now so leave a message. Or call my agent. Beeeeeep
Taane: Yo, dad. If you’re in range, pick up. T.
A few brief seconds pass by before the sound of a phone being picked up sounds out, followed by an accent that comes from somewhere indeterminate between California and the North Island of New Zealand.
Va’aiga: Kia ora, tama. ‘Sup?
Taane: Yo. How’s Hollywood, dad?
Va’aiga: Yeah, it’s cool. Seriously, though. Maybe a few too many fake people.
Taane: Fake people? Like, compared to wrestling?
Va’aiga: Ain’t even close, T. Smiley gladhanders and utter shits around every damn corner. Makes backstabbing and stables I’ve been in look positively cool by comparison. Everybody got a hidden agenda.
Taane: Everybody wants their piece of the pie.
Va’aiga: Nobody ever says shit to my face.
Taane: 320lb Maori with a tattooed face? Ain’t noone gonna say shit to ya. Ever.
Va’aiga: And yet I come from an industry where everyone is shit talking about everyone else all the damn time.
Taane: Yeah I’m learning that. You hear that cut on me last week?
Va’aiga: Son, I am gonna tell you the most important lesson I can. Some koenga tainga gives you that racist a line, in future, knock their fucking teeth into row 30 at the next possible occasion. That’s what your daddy would have done.
Taane: I hear you.
Va’aiga: Somebody’s shit went a bit unwrecked for that. Next time? Time to bring the pain. Now what about this week? You got this little triple threat I hear.
Taane: Get my rematch with Walker, throw in a little Aiden Reynolds for the fun.
Va’aiga: Loved that first match with Walker, thought the referee would have given you the five more minutes that the crowd were screaming for.
Taane: Referees are a bit scratchy up here.
Va’aiga: Referees are a bit scratchy every-fucking-where. All you can do is kick more ass and take more names. What do ya know about the Australian dude?
Taane: He’s good, dad. Real good.
Va’aiga: Then you gotta fight harder. Don't be in the business of being overawed.
Taane: I ain't. But I think we’re gonna get something great. Something the fans are gonna love.
Va’aiga: Cool. But fans, second priority. First priority. Win. Hit that cork off the top rope. Make them suffer. Don’t feel bad for them even if they are cool. Gotta be tough to win.
Taane: You be watching?
Va’aiga: I’m on TV that evening. Gotta do the promo run for the film. But I’m subscribed to the network so I’ll watch the second I’m done.
Taane: Sweet. Drop me a call when you’ve watched it. I should be back at home.
Va’aiga: How is your new place? All good?
Taane: Yeah. Me and Chris are getting our house in order, as the expression goes.
Va’aiga: Good. Look after yourself, kid. Cos Chris ain’t gonna do it. Kid’s… a big kid.
Taane: Were you any different at his age?
Va’aiga: I was learning to be a pro wrestler. Couple of years younger though… I was learning how to shank a guy. Which was a whole heap of dumbass, so I can’t be too harsh. Just know that he’s a big idiot, son. And don’t take his advice.
Taane: I won’t.
Va’aiga: On anything.
Taane: I won’t.
Va’aiga: And stay off the waipiro.
Taane: Chris keeps trying to get me to drink it. But I'm clean.
Va’aiga: All good. Son? Best of luck.
Taane: I don’t need luck.
Va’aiga: That’s my boy.
~~~~~~~
Now, let’s get onto talking about something more fun than whatever that dude’s name was. Like… grouting your downstairs bathroom. Nah, I kid. Let’s talk about my match this week. And it’s time, it’s TIME, IT’S DAMN TIME! Time to get my fight on and continue what my father started. “The Australian Nightmare” Aiden Reynolds. Now I may be raised in the US, I may speak better Cali’ than I do Maori, I may be a hell of a lot more 408 than I am Code 7 but I am always gonna relish my chance to lock horns with a proud Australian. If you ain’t born under the Southern Cross, you might not know. So Imma tell you. We have been flinging shit over the Tasman since before our countries got independence. You ask a Kiwi who we want to beat? Australia comes top of that list every time. And I know damn well it’s the other way round. Vice to the damn versa.
Now I ain’t my daddy on this. I ain’t got the massive problem he has with those born on the other side of the Tasman. He’d probably curl his lip at me using the word “other” rather than the word “wrong” in that sentence. But then I’ve never battled a 7 foot tall, cricket bat swinging maniac while 80,000 plus people boo the fuck out of me because of where I was born so I can kinda see his reasoning. But I don’t hate those who wear the gold and green. I don’t have anything special against the ‘Straiyan. Does that mean I’m not gonna beat the ever lovin’ shit outta you?
NOT A DAMN CHANCE.
Gold Coast Terror? Australian Nightmare? Y’all are listening, I know this. Your nicknames evoke images of some big fuck who throws around guys my size like they were made of paper. That ain’t you. You’re this modern, hybrid style. You can lay the hits. You can fly. You can bring the technical shit. I’ve watched your shit on tape, I’ve had to in prep for this match. It’s good. It’s damn good. I read in the dirtsheets how highly rated you are. You are possibly the most entertaining wrestler to watch in this fed. Take that as a massive compliment. But snowflakes don’t win matches. Four and a half stars may not just be on the side of your tights, dig? But pretty and pretty effective ain’t the same damn thing.
You are gonna have to lean on that technical shit so hard it’s gonna make you uncomfortable. Because you’d have to be a dumb ass of epic proportions to try and brawl with me and hot damn I’ve faced Big Luc’ and you try that shit on him you will get your ass flattened faster than pizza dough in a Papa John’s. And for a guy who can, theoretically, fly with the best you don’t actually, y’know, DO it that often do you? So I got the edge there too. You wanna know who the first ‘Nesian in space was? Me with a run up, son. Me with a run up.
So your biggest option, the thing that I should actually be having nightmares about is your technical ability. ‘Cept I’m not. Because I have been trained how you power out of that shit, for one. Sure I don’t got the range of technical wizardry that some have. But I know how to escape. And that’s part of the game. For two, however is a big, big point. You any idea how hard it is to tap a guy in a triple threat? Of course you do. You ain’t a rook’. If you want to tap me out, you have to knock Big Luc’s lights out so bad that he don’t stir, walk over and plant a boot in the middle of your spine. You want to tap Walker? You best have eyes in the back of your head, and then extra ones on the sides too because if you’re trying to tap a man with me in the match, you’re not gonna see this Magnificent Maori Missile flying in to break it up. Ain’t gonna happen.
Now Luc’. I said before that I couldn’t wait to lock horns with you again. And now… IT’S TIME. Last TIME we faced, TIME was not on our side. They rang the damn bell on us. And I still can’t tell you for sure who’d have won in the end. And unlike my match with… whatever that guy I faced last week’s name is, where I KNOW I should have won, against you we could have fought for weeks before someone got the three count. And I couldn’t tell you who would. I gotta give you respect for that, man, because you’d be certifiable not to. Insane. And I’m not totally valea, just vale enough to want another go.
Luc’, lemme tell you something. I’ve been building this big Australia-New Zealand thing up for this match. Well I know you love to represent for The South. You didn’t know that you were gonna become a hero for The South… Africans. Seriously, you’re an honorary ‘Bok this week. You may not be the biggest star in the US at the moment, not that you’re gonna get held back on that. But you win this week and you’re never gonna have to buy a Castle in Jo’burg for the rest of your life. Not that you feel the pressure of that sort of shit, probably won’t even faze you. But it would be nice to get some props from the Saffers. And it would be the drizzling shits to let them down, now, wouldn’t it?
I’m ready for this showdown, Luc’. I’ve been talking it up before it was even booked, and now it has been, we are gonna tear the fuckin’ house down. We are gonna blow the roof off the place so damn hard, they’ll be picking bits of tiling out of their breakfasts in Sacramento. With such a dreadful main event on tap, no disrespect to Muru, it’s our responsibility to make this show memorable. I gots no doubt we can. Because there’s one thing people love to watch and it’s a fight. And there’s one thing that Lucas Walker and Taane bring to the table, it’s a fight. Fists up for the win. And Aiden might be a scrapper when he wants to be, but me and you, Luc’, we gonna throw bombs like no one else in the company can. Some motherfucker is gonna hear the sound of my fists bouncing off your skull and sound the damn air raid siren. You’re gonna hear it and punch me the hell back.
Cool.
Aiden Reynolds? Lucas Walker? Set your watches, boys. It’s coming up to time. Time to show your best for the XHF. Time to lay down some damn standards in this federation that the rest of those fucks in the locker room are gonna have to meet. Time to make fresh rivalries fresher and crown new ones. Time to show the wrestling watching populous, the fans, the Network subscribers what we three men can do in a wrestling ring. Time to bring our passion for this industry and translate that into the most committed in ring performance that the crowd has ever seen. Time for the OG from the QLD to show why people have been overlooking him for too damn long. Time for the Dirty South’ Favourite Son to bring that down home cooking to the violence buffet. It’s time.
It’s DAMN time.
And you best be ready.
BTDT.
Go on, win the tournament. Become Combat champion. You’ll see what happens. NO ONE will watch. Seriously. They will gravitate to more interesting shows on the XHF network. People will be trading tapes of shows with the main event cut off just to avoid watching you and your boring, boring partner. The reason you’re the least popular couple in the locker room isn’t because you’re atrocious people. I mean you are, but that’s not the reason. It’s because you’re so unmemorable that it’s gonna hurt our wallets. Gates will fall with you at the top. Gates will fall. You have a head for business?
Not THIS business.
If you weren’t a MASSIVE racist, I’d have probably forgotten about the events surrounding the match entirely.
~~~~~~~
click
Answer Machine: Yo, this is Va’aiga. I’m not home right now so leave a message. Or call my agent. Beeeeeep
Taane: Yo, dad. If you’re in range, pick up. T.
A few brief seconds pass by before the sound of a phone being picked up sounds out, followed by an accent that comes from somewhere indeterminate between California and the North Island of New Zealand.
Va’aiga: Kia ora, tama. ‘Sup?
Taane: Yo. How’s Hollywood, dad?
Va’aiga: Yeah, it’s cool. Seriously, though. Maybe a few too many fake people.
Taane: Fake people? Like, compared to wrestling?
Va’aiga: Ain’t even close, T. Smiley gladhanders and utter shits around every damn corner. Makes backstabbing and stables I’ve been in look positively cool by comparison. Everybody got a hidden agenda.
Taane: Everybody wants their piece of the pie.
Va’aiga: Nobody ever says shit to my face.
Taane: 320lb Maori with a tattooed face? Ain’t noone gonna say shit to ya. Ever.
Va’aiga: And yet I come from an industry where everyone is shit talking about everyone else all the damn time.
Taane: Yeah I’m learning that. You hear that cut on me last week?
Va’aiga: Son, I am gonna tell you the most important lesson I can. Some koenga tainga gives you that racist a line, in future, knock their fucking teeth into row 30 at the next possible occasion. That’s what your daddy would have done.
Taane: I hear you.
Va’aiga: Somebody’s shit went a bit unwrecked for that. Next time? Time to bring the pain. Now what about this week? You got this little triple threat I hear.
Taane: Get my rematch with Walker, throw in a little Aiden Reynolds for the fun.
Va’aiga: Loved that first match with Walker, thought the referee would have given you the five more minutes that the crowd were screaming for.
Taane: Referees are a bit scratchy up here.
Va’aiga: Referees are a bit scratchy every-fucking-where. All you can do is kick more ass and take more names. What do ya know about the Australian dude?
Taane: He’s good, dad. Real good.
Va’aiga: Then you gotta fight harder. Don't be in the business of being overawed.
Taane: I ain't. But I think we’re gonna get something great. Something the fans are gonna love.
Va’aiga: Cool. But fans, second priority. First priority. Win. Hit that cork off the top rope. Make them suffer. Don’t feel bad for them even if they are cool. Gotta be tough to win.
Taane: You be watching?
Va’aiga: I’m on TV that evening. Gotta do the promo run for the film. But I’m subscribed to the network so I’ll watch the second I’m done.
Taane: Sweet. Drop me a call when you’ve watched it. I should be back at home.
Va’aiga: How is your new place? All good?
Taane: Yeah. Me and Chris are getting our house in order, as the expression goes.
Va’aiga: Good. Look after yourself, kid. Cos Chris ain’t gonna do it. Kid’s… a big kid.
Taane: Were you any different at his age?
Va’aiga: I was learning to be a pro wrestler. Couple of years younger though… I was learning how to shank a guy. Which was a whole heap of dumbass, so I can’t be too harsh. Just know that he’s a big idiot, son. And don’t take his advice.
Taane: I won’t.
Va’aiga: On anything.
Taane: I won’t.
Va’aiga: And stay off the waipiro.
Taane: Chris keeps trying to get me to drink it. But I'm clean.
Va’aiga: All good. Son? Best of luck.
Taane: I don’t need luck.
Va’aiga: That’s my boy.
~~~~~~~
Now, let’s get onto talking about something more fun than whatever that dude’s name was. Like… grouting your downstairs bathroom. Nah, I kid. Let’s talk about my match this week. And it’s time, it’s TIME, IT’S DAMN TIME! Time to get my fight on and continue what my father started. “The Australian Nightmare” Aiden Reynolds. Now I may be raised in the US, I may speak better Cali’ than I do Maori, I may be a hell of a lot more 408 than I am Code 7 but I am always gonna relish my chance to lock horns with a proud Australian. If you ain’t born under the Southern Cross, you might not know. So Imma tell you. We have been flinging shit over the Tasman since before our countries got independence. You ask a Kiwi who we want to beat? Australia comes top of that list every time. And I know damn well it’s the other way round. Vice to the damn versa.
Now I ain’t my daddy on this. I ain’t got the massive problem he has with those born on the other side of the Tasman. He’d probably curl his lip at me using the word “other” rather than the word “wrong” in that sentence. But then I’ve never battled a 7 foot tall, cricket bat swinging maniac while 80,000 plus people boo the fuck out of me because of where I was born so I can kinda see his reasoning. But I don’t hate those who wear the gold and green. I don’t have anything special against the ‘Straiyan. Does that mean I’m not gonna beat the ever lovin’ shit outta you?
NOT A DAMN CHANCE.
Gold Coast Terror? Australian Nightmare? Y’all are listening, I know this. Your nicknames evoke images of some big fuck who throws around guys my size like they were made of paper. That ain’t you. You’re this modern, hybrid style. You can lay the hits. You can fly. You can bring the technical shit. I’ve watched your shit on tape, I’ve had to in prep for this match. It’s good. It’s damn good. I read in the dirtsheets how highly rated you are. You are possibly the most entertaining wrestler to watch in this fed. Take that as a massive compliment. But snowflakes don’t win matches. Four and a half stars may not just be on the side of your tights, dig? But pretty and pretty effective ain’t the same damn thing.
You are gonna have to lean on that technical shit so hard it’s gonna make you uncomfortable. Because you’d have to be a dumb ass of epic proportions to try and brawl with me and hot damn I’ve faced Big Luc’ and you try that shit on him you will get your ass flattened faster than pizza dough in a Papa John’s. And for a guy who can, theoretically, fly with the best you don’t actually, y’know, DO it that often do you? So I got the edge there too. You wanna know who the first ‘Nesian in space was? Me with a run up, son. Me with a run up.
So your biggest option, the thing that I should actually be having nightmares about is your technical ability. ‘Cept I’m not. Because I have been trained how you power out of that shit, for one. Sure I don’t got the range of technical wizardry that some have. But I know how to escape. And that’s part of the game. For two, however is a big, big point. You any idea how hard it is to tap a guy in a triple threat? Of course you do. You ain’t a rook’. If you want to tap me out, you have to knock Big Luc’s lights out so bad that he don’t stir, walk over and plant a boot in the middle of your spine. You want to tap Walker? You best have eyes in the back of your head, and then extra ones on the sides too because if you’re trying to tap a man with me in the match, you’re not gonna see this Magnificent Maori Missile flying in to break it up. Ain’t gonna happen.
Now Luc’. I said before that I couldn’t wait to lock horns with you again. And now… IT’S TIME. Last TIME we faced, TIME was not on our side. They rang the damn bell on us. And I still can’t tell you for sure who’d have won in the end. And unlike my match with… whatever that guy I faced last week’s name is, where I KNOW I should have won, against you we could have fought for weeks before someone got the three count. And I couldn’t tell you who would. I gotta give you respect for that, man, because you’d be certifiable not to. Insane. And I’m not totally valea, just vale enough to want another go.
Luc’, lemme tell you something. I’ve been building this big Australia-New Zealand thing up for this match. Well I know you love to represent for The South. You didn’t know that you were gonna become a hero for The South… Africans. Seriously, you’re an honorary ‘Bok this week. You may not be the biggest star in the US at the moment, not that you’re gonna get held back on that. But you win this week and you’re never gonna have to buy a Castle in Jo’burg for the rest of your life. Not that you feel the pressure of that sort of shit, probably won’t even faze you. But it would be nice to get some props from the Saffers. And it would be the drizzling shits to let them down, now, wouldn’t it?
I’m ready for this showdown, Luc’. I’ve been talking it up before it was even booked, and now it has been, we are gonna tear the fuckin’ house down. We are gonna blow the roof off the place so damn hard, they’ll be picking bits of tiling out of their breakfasts in Sacramento. With such a dreadful main event on tap, no disrespect to Muru, it’s our responsibility to make this show memorable. I gots no doubt we can. Because there’s one thing people love to watch and it’s a fight. And there’s one thing that Lucas Walker and Taane bring to the table, it’s a fight. Fists up for the win. And Aiden might be a scrapper when he wants to be, but me and you, Luc’, we gonna throw bombs like no one else in the company can. Some motherfucker is gonna hear the sound of my fists bouncing off your skull and sound the damn air raid siren. You’re gonna hear it and punch me the hell back.
Cool.
Aiden Reynolds? Lucas Walker? Set your watches, boys. It’s coming up to time. Time to show your best for the XHF. Time to lay down some damn standards in this federation that the rest of those fucks in the locker room are gonna have to meet. Time to make fresh rivalries fresher and crown new ones. Time to show the wrestling watching populous, the fans, the Network subscribers what we three men can do in a wrestling ring. Time to bring our passion for this industry and translate that into the most committed in ring performance that the crowd has ever seen. Time for the OG from the QLD to show why people have been overlooking him for too damn long. Time for the Dirty South’ Favourite Son to bring that down home cooking to the violence buffet. It’s time.
It’s DAMN time.
And you best be ready.
BTDT.
