Viper's Transformation
May 26, 2018 0:04:17 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, The Nihilists, and 1 more like this
Post by ForeverKuroi on May 26, 2018 0:04:17 GMT -5
Note: All instances involving Dylan Black has been granted permission.
It's a dark night in Ohio. The weather may have improved going into spring, but the night was a little brisk. But not even the breeze on a cold winter's night can cool off the burning passion in Dylan's heart as he speeds through with a '98 Jeep Cherokee.
Black: I swear. Once I beat that asshole Jeffrey Viper, I will NEVER see him again after that match. At least, not as long as he wants to keep his head connected to his shoulders. Fucking being a creep to me, turns out he wants my mother. How low can that piece of shit g-
Dylan Black is forced to pull over. Why? In his rear view mirror, he sees red and blue lights flashing.
Black: Fuck.
Dylan pulls out his appropriate documentation when a police officer pulls up to his side.
Police: License and registration, sir.
Black: Here you go.
The police officer reviews all the paperwork. His eyes gaze down with an occasional glance up. He makes conversation as the paperwork is examined.
Police: Driving a little fast there, weren't you?
Black: A little.
Police: A little? 55 in a 30. You've nearly doubled the speed limit, son.
Dylan Black cringed a little. The last person who called him son was practically a sexual deviant. At least Dylan knew this time, it was a figure of speech.
Black: I'll be a bit more careful.
Police: I'm sure you will, but I need to run you through the system to- woah.
The police officer looked up and saw Dylan's eyes bloodshot red.
Police: Sir, have you been drinking tonight?
Dylan Black looks at him with an eerie level of concentration and clarity.
Black: Not a drop.
The police officer shakes his head.
Police: The stench from your breath suggests otherwise. Sir, please step out of the vehicle.
Dylan Black grits his teeth and strengthens his grip onto the steering wheel as he's forced to comply. Fade out.
Dylan Black walks out of a vehicle. The side of the black Honda Accord reads, "Lyft." He speaks without glancing back at the driver.
Black: Thanks.
He closes the door, again, without looking back. He walks through the front door of a building marked, "Community Recreation Center." He grits his teeth to myself.
Black: I can't believe I'm going to have to deal with this Alcoholics Anonymous bullshit. But if it'll get my my license back, fine.
After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sits down where someone else is mid-way through his speech.
Dylan Black's eyes shoot open as he can't believe what he just saw. Someone from behind him lightly tugs him on his arm.
Guy: Dude, you have such a caring father. You should be nicer to him.
Dylan looks back. And when I say look, I mean if you can optically send someone a death threat, he just did it. He got up and left, refusing to spend a second more with a creep that he's not allowed to punch or disembowel.
Jeffrey Viper is at home. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and longingly thinking about his love.
Viper: I really want to fuck Dylan's mom. I mean, Hailey? Those plump tits. Those legs. That ass that makes you wanna say "Wey-oh!" (Wey-oh!) It's just...
A tear sheds from Viper's eye. A sniffle escapes from his nose inhaling.
Viper: Fuck, man. It's not fair. I really want to fuck her so bad. And I need Dylan to do it. I mean, if Hailey sees me and Dylan as one big happy family, she'll have to fuck me. I mean, Dylan needs a father figure in his life. I'm sure it's been a while since she's had fourteen inches of cock in her. She'll have to do it and once I beat Dylan in the ring, he'll have to accept me as his father and I'll get to fuck his mom. But I want to fuck her now. Why can't I fuck her?
Jeffrey Viper exhales. A snot bubble pops from his nose.
Viper: It's just not fair.
And just like that, a video montage plays.
Jeffrey Viper finishes his Hennessy. He then starts to light up blunts. (Plural). They say weed cannot kill, but if it could, Viper smoked it - with a weight so high it sounds like the amount that someone would order if they were getting turkey breast at the deli. He drinks a handle of booze. He passes out.
He should be dead, but is only incredibly delusional and suffering from either alcoholism and/or a bad batch of weed.
Jeffrey Viper wakes up in the middle of the night
These two videos play in immediate succession:
Fast forward to the morning after.
Jeffrey Viper lazily drags himself into his car as he hangs his head low. With a drawn out exhale, he starts the ignition.
Fast forward thirty five minutes, he gets out of his car and into the office.
He puts his headset on and logs onto the computer. He signs in at his usual ten minutes late to work. He gets startled as his supervisor shoves his fist on the table at his side.
Boss: Viper! The customers are complaining about you. You have to bring your customer approval numbers if you want to keep this job.
Boss: Oh, and we rejected your time off to go to England as vacation time. You just started this job. You're still on probation. You don't get vacation time, especially not for your fancy schmancy man groping event.
Viper weakly nods his head as he starts to press the button that allows customers to take calls.
Viper: This is the electric company. What the fuck do you want?
The shocked voice of something sounding like an elderly woman storms back at him.
Caller: I BEG YOUR PARDON!? WHO THE HECK ARE YOU, YOUNG MAN!?
But Viper doesn't listen to his customer. He's in a small cubicle on a floor with a hundred other people paid just as low as he is. But Viper's heart is elsewhere. Is he really meant for failure? Is he meant to be nobody? Is he really meant to be a schmuck taking abuse from pissed off customers who are self-absorbed?
Or is Jeffrey Viper meant for something else? Something more. Something greater.
Perhaps Jeffrey Viper is meant to be the self-absorbed customer who is meant to be giving the schmuck some abuse.
He longingly stares at the single window from across the long room. There, he finds the sky darkening. It's about to rain a little.
But wait. That's not rain.
It's Hail.
That's when it reminded him of...
Something rings in his heart and breaks his distraction. Suddenly, he hears the voice of the old lady giving him a piece of her mind.
Caller: ...all my years with this company, I've never been treated like this! I'm going to contact your supervisor at once, and let him know the lousy excuse for customer service I've received. What is your name!?
But Viper couldn't really give a care in the world for her. He's still focused on Hailey. Viper has a renewed sense of purpose.
Viper: My name is Jeffrey Viper, and before this issue is all said and done, I'm going to fuck Dylan's mom.
A transformation, if you will.
Caller: Who is Dyl-
Click. Jeffrey Viper throws his headset off from around his head and runs out of the room.
Jeffrey Viper slowly walks back into the room kicking his feet along the floor.
Viper: Yeah, does anyone have any jumper cables?
It's a bright day as the camera fades into the view. It's an industrial area, but it's a hotel room that Viper can afford. That's when...
Jeffrey Viper walks to the bathroom where he pumps a squirt of shaving gel into his hand. He points his head up where he begins to lather up the gel on the bottom of his chin. He begins shaving.
Viper: This is my moment. Tonight, at Xtraction: Blood Money, I'm going to be making history when I defeat Dylan Black in the main event. It's come down to this. I will walk in alone and afraid, but I will walk out with a son. With a loving partner. With a family. They say good things come to those who wait, but I say fuck that. Good things come to those who fucking work hard for it and no one works harder than Jeffrey Viper.
Viper shoves his face down as he turns on the faucet after shaving his face. He runs his hand down.
Viper: I've stalked for my destiny. I've installed hidden cameras for my destiny. I've fought restraining orders and taught some snot-nosed and ungrateful shit-bags for destiny. And if I have to beat this barely-pubescent little douche with my bare fists then so be it. I will not stop fighting. I will not give up. I will-
That's when Viper stops. As he washes his face with cold water, he looks into the mirror. And he looks at himself. His eyes are red. His face leather-skinned and his hair unkempt. A part of him - possibly human heard himself.
Viper: Or maybe I've gone too far. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be. Perhaps I should stay away and just... let nature run its course.
Jeffrey Viper stretches out a long exhale.
Viper: Or maybe I need to suppress these urges telling me to give up on my dream. I am Jeffrey Viper after all. I should get ready to get to the gym for a quick session before I make Hailey mine. But first...
Viper pumps on the bottle of hand cream. His face contorts to a slight frown.
Viper: None left? What am I going to... Oh yes. Yes. That will do just fine.
Viper grabs the bottle of shaving gel again.
Viper: Come on, Gilette. Let's see if you're the closest a man can get.
Jeffrey Viper pulls out a picture of Hailey about to squat down on the toilet. Viper closes the door to his bathroom and all that you can hear is furious, furious masturbation.
This is Jeffrey Viper's transformation. He has purpose. He has motivation. He has flaws, and he recognizes them - to a point. But transformation is continuous, just like his love.
~After Prestige 16~
It's a dark night in Ohio. The weather may have improved going into spring, but the night was a little brisk. But not even the breeze on a cold winter's night can cool off the burning passion in Dylan's heart as he speeds through with a '98 Jeep Cherokee.
Black: I swear. Once I beat that asshole Jeffrey Viper, I will NEVER see him again after that match. At least, not as long as he wants to keep his head connected to his shoulders. Fucking being a creep to me, turns out he wants my mother. How low can that piece of shit g-
Dylan Black is forced to pull over. Why? In his rear view mirror, he sees red and blue lights flashing.
Black: Fuck.
Dylan pulls out his appropriate documentation when a police officer pulls up to his side.
Police: License and registration, sir.
Black: Here you go.
The police officer reviews all the paperwork. His eyes gaze down with an occasional glance up. He makes conversation as the paperwork is examined.
Police: Driving a little fast there, weren't you?
Black: A little.
Police: A little? 55 in a 30. You've nearly doubled the speed limit, son.
Dylan Black cringed a little. The last person who called him son was practically a sexual deviant. At least Dylan knew this time, it was a figure of speech.
Black: I'll be a bit more careful.
Police: I'm sure you will, but I need to run you through the system to- woah.
The police officer looked up and saw Dylan's eyes bloodshot red.
Police: Sir, have you been drinking tonight?
Dylan Black looks at him with an eerie level of concentration and clarity.
Black: Not a drop.
The police officer shakes his head.
Police: The stench from your breath suggests otherwise. Sir, please step out of the vehicle.
Dylan Black grits his teeth and strengthens his grip onto the steering wheel as he's forced to comply. Fade out.
~Wednesday - 5/16/18~
Dylan Black walks out of a vehicle. The side of the black Honda Accord reads, "Lyft." He speaks without glancing back at the driver.
Black: Thanks.
He closes the door, again, without looking back. He walks through the front door of a building marked, "Community Recreation Center." He grits his teeth to myself.
Black: I can't believe I'm going to have to deal with this Alcoholics Anonymous bullshit. But if it'll get my my license back, fine.
After pouring himself a cup of coffee, he sits down where someone else is mid-way through his speech.
Dylan Black's eyes shoot open as he can't believe what he just saw. Someone from behind him lightly tugs him on his arm.
Guy: Dude, you have such a caring father. You should be nicer to him.
Dylan looks back. And when I say look, I mean if you can optically send someone a death threat, he just did it. He got up and left, refusing to spend a second more with a creep that he's not allowed to punch or disembowel.
~Later That Day~
Jeffrey Viper is at home. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and longingly thinking about his love.
Viper: I really want to fuck Dylan's mom. I mean, Hailey? Those plump tits. Those legs. That ass that makes you wanna say "Wey-oh!" (Wey-oh!) It's just...
A tear sheds from Viper's eye. A sniffle escapes from his nose inhaling.
Viper: Fuck, man. It's not fair. I really want to fuck her so bad. And I need Dylan to do it. I mean, if Hailey sees me and Dylan as one big happy family, she'll have to fuck me. I mean, Dylan needs a father figure in his life. I'm sure it's been a while since she's had fourteen inches of cock in her. She'll have to do it and once I beat Dylan in the ring, he'll have to accept me as his father and I'll get to fuck his mom. But I want to fuck her now. Why can't I fuck her?
Jeffrey Viper exhales. A snot bubble pops from his nose.
Viper: It's just not fair.
And just like that, a video montage plays.
Jeffrey Viper finishes his Hennessy. He then starts to light up blunts. (Plural). They say weed cannot kill, but if it could, Viper smoked it - with a weight so high it sounds like the amount that someone would order if they were getting turkey breast at the deli. He drinks a handle of booze. He passes out.
He should be dead, but is only incredibly delusional and suffering from either alcoholism and/or a bad batch of weed.
Jeffrey Viper wakes up in the middle of the night
These two videos play in immediate succession:
Fast forward to the morning after.
Jeffrey Viper lazily drags himself into his car as he hangs his head low. With a drawn out exhale, he starts the ignition.
Fast forward thirty five minutes, he gets out of his car and into the office.
'No longer a wrestler.'
He puts his headset on and logs onto the computer. He signs in at his usual ten minutes late to work. He gets startled as his supervisor shoves his fist on the table at his side.
Boss: Viper! The customers are complaining about you. You have to bring your customer approval numbers if you want to keep this job.
'Want to tell him to go shove it... but I can't'
Boss: Oh, and we rejected your time off to go to England as vacation time. You just started this job. You're still on probation. You don't get vacation time, especially not for your fancy schmancy man groping event.
'Can't get up and ask him if he knows who he's talking to.'
Boss: And don't give me any lip. I know just how unhirable you are. The only reason you have this job is because no one can see your face and know just what kind of tool you are.
Viper weakly nods his head as he starts to press the button that allows customers to take calls.
Viper: This is the electric company. What the fuck do you want?
The shocked voice of something sounding like an elderly woman storms back at him.
Caller: I BEG YOUR PARDON!? WHO THE HECK ARE YOU, YOUNG MAN!?
'That's the question, isn't it? Who am I?'
But Viper doesn't listen to his customer. He's in a small cubicle on a floor with a hundred other people paid just as low as he is. But Viper's heart is elsewhere. Is he really meant for failure? Is he meant to be nobody? Is he really meant to be a schmuck taking abuse from pissed off customers who are self-absorbed?
Or is Jeffrey Viper meant for something else? Something more. Something greater.
Perhaps Jeffrey Viper is meant to be the self-absorbed customer who is meant to be giving the schmuck some abuse.
He longingly stares at the single window from across the long room. There, he finds the sky darkening. It's about to rain a little.
But wait. That's not rain.
It's Hail.
That's when it reminded him of...
Hailey.
Something rings in his heart and breaks his distraction. Suddenly, he hears the voice of the old lady giving him a piece of her mind.
Caller: ...all my years with this company, I've never been treated like this! I'm going to contact your supervisor at once, and let him know the lousy excuse for customer service I've received. What is your name!?
But Viper couldn't really give a care in the world for her. He's still focused on Hailey. Viper has a renewed sense of purpose.
Viper: My name is Jeffrey Viper, and before this issue is all said and done, I'm going to fuck Dylan's mom.
A transformation, if you will.
Caller: Who is Dyl-
Click. Jeffrey Viper throws his headset off from around his head and runs out of the room.
~Five minutes later~
Jeffrey Viper slowly walks back into the room kicking his feet along the floor.
Viper: Yeah, does anyone have any jumper cables?
~Sunday, June 3rd~
It's a bright day as the camera fades into the view. It's an industrial area, but it's a hotel room that Viper can afford. That's when...
Jeffrey Viper walks to the bathroom where he pumps a squirt of shaving gel into his hand. He points his head up where he begins to lather up the gel on the bottom of his chin. He begins shaving.
Viper: This is my moment. Tonight, at Xtraction: Blood Money, I'm going to be making history when I defeat Dylan Black in the main event. It's come down to this. I will walk in alone and afraid, but I will walk out with a son. With a loving partner. With a family. They say good things come to those who wait, but I say fuck that. Good things come to those who fucking work hard for it and no one works harder than Jeffrey Viper.
Viper shoves his face down as he turns on the faucet after shaving his face. He runs his hand down.
Viper: I've stalked for my destiny. I've installed hidden cameras for my destiny. I've fought restraining orders and taught some snot-nosed and ungrateful shit-bags for destiny. And if I have to beat this barely-pubescent little douche with my bare fists then so be it. I will not stop fighting. I will not give up. I will-
That's when Viper stops. As he washes his face with cold water, he looks into the mirror. And he looks at himself. His eyes are red. His face leather-skinned and his hair unkempt. A part of him - possibly human heard himself.
Viper: Or maybe I've gone too far. Perhaps it wasn't meant to be. Perhaps I should stay away and just... let nature run its course.
Jeffrey Viper stretches out a long exhale.
Viper: Or maybe I need to suppress these urges telling me to give up on my dream. I am Jeffrey Viper after all. I should get ready to get to the gym for a quick session before I make Hailey mine. But first...
Viper pumps on the bottle of hand cream. His face contorts to a slight frown.
Viper: None left? What am I going to... Oh yes. Yes. That will do just fine.
Viper grabs the bottle of shaving gel again.
Viper: Come on, Gilette. Let's see if you're the closest a man can get.
Jeffrey Viper pulls out a picture of Hailey about to squat down on the toilet. Viper closes the door to his bathroom and all that you can hear is furious, furious masturbation.
This is Jeffrey Viper's transformation. He has purpose. He has motivation. He has flaws, and he recognizes them - to a point. But transformation is continuous, just like his love.
Fin.
