Gets Filthier by the minute (Salem RP #3 - Filth Factory)
Jan 19, 2019 19:13:04 GMT -5
Mongo the Destroyer, 𝓓𝓾𝓴𝓮 𝓚𝓸𝓼𝓵𝓸𝓯𝓯, and 1 more like this
Post by Jaymz on Jan 19, 2019 19:13:04 GMT -5
***Pittsburgh, Penn - Hotel****
click....click, click, click….click...click, click….click
Salem typed away on his phone while he sat on the toilet in the restroom attached to the hotels restaurant. He took a pic of his pants and boxers around his ankles with his hairy legs and sent it to Knucks, who he was texting.
Knucks (9:33pm): Bro, wtf….
Knucks (9:33pm): Where are you?
Salem (9:34pm): I’m on the toilet at the hotel taking a Duke.
Knucks (9:35pm): Bro, why are you sending me this? If Candy sees this pic shes gonna think I'm cheating on her with some guy...eewww…
Salem (9:35pm): It's not like I sent you a pic of my dick. Holy shit she's crazier than I am. But if you want a dick pic…..
Knucks (9:36pm): No! Hell no!! And yeah, I’ve wondered if Candy needs some of Kyles meds. Hey, have you left the hotel at all this week?
Salem (9:38pm): Yeah, I go for a run early every morning before the sun comes up so nobody can see my melted face or this stupid pillowcase and I train in the hotel gym after that. And I went to Taco Bell around the corner today. That's the reason I’m on the toilet right now. My ass is on fire!!
Knucks (9:38pm): Yeah man, the Bell gives you sting ring.
Salem (9:39pm): Sting ring!? lel Wtf is that?
Knucks (9:40pm): It's your asshole burning when you take a Duke. It’s really weird your texting me while your taking a Duke too btw.
Salem (9:41pm): I text you every time I take a Duke. You just don't know it!!
Knucks (9:42pm): I’ll get with you later bro. Fuckin Candy is pissed about something.
Salem (9:44pm): What else is new? Do you want me to kill her?
Knucks (9:44pm): What!? No!! I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Salem (9:45pm): later bro.
Salem turned off his phone and grunted, letting out the finale of Taco Bell spray into the water with a splash. He pulled up his pants, buckled his belt, flushed the Taco bell slush and stepped out from the stall. And he stopped. He suddenly remembered that he had forgot something.
He forgot to wipe his ass.
He hesitated and almost started to walk out of the restroom but he did a U-turn and went back into the stall. He stood there for a second and from beneath the pillowcase the confusion in his eyes was clear. He bent down and noticed someone in the stall next to him, pants around their ankles.
“Hey, homie..” Salem said. Awkward silence came. “Yo, you in there dropping a deuce, I’m talking to you…”
Another long second of silence came before an irritated voice spoke up from the stall next to him, “What!?”
“I have a question for you.”
It was clear the guy next to him didn't want to respond, “What do you want!?”
“Ummm…” Salem looked at the toilet paper on his right connected to the stall wall, “I umm….Im not real sure how to wipe my ass...”
Another moment of awkward silence came before he responded, “Get the fuck outta here, guy. This some youtube bathroom prank or some shit?”
Salem shook his head ‘no’ violently, but obviously the man couldn't see it. “No, bro. Not a joke. Im serious.”
“Figure it out yourself, dipshit.”
Salem’s shoulders slouched and he dropped his head. He was hoping for some direction. “Ok, I will...But how many sheets do I use? I’ve never wiped my ass before. ...Kyle always did that for us.”
“Dude, fuckin leave me alone.” The voice from the neighboring stall was getting pissed.
Salem shrugged his shoulders and reached down for the toilet paper. He pulled out a massive strand that had to have been 25 sheets at least. He dropped his drawers and sat back down on the toilet. He surveyed the situation and realized there wasn't enough room for him to stick his hand down the front of the toilet and reach under to wipe. He got frustrated and lifted his ass slightly from the seat but he was confident that wasn't the way. So he got up and took a step in front of the toilet and squatted down as far as he could, his cheeks inches from the floor.
The guy in the stall next to him could clearly see his hairy ass cheeks from under the bottom gap of the stall, “HEY!! What the fuck are you doing!???” He yelled.
“I’M TRYING TO WIPE MY ASS!!!! YOU DIDN'T WANNA HELP, SO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” Salem waded up the massive amount of paper into a ball and wiped from side to side. He established that method didn't work properly, so he went back to front. He readjusted the wadded ball of paper to a clean side and wiped again, this time front to back. He stood up and dropped the giant wad of paper in the toilet and realized when he readjusted the ball of TP for the last wipe, that he had gotten Taco Bell poo-slush on his fingers.
“AAAHHHHH!!!!” Salem freaked out and wiped his fingers on the stall wall leaving brown streaks. At this point, the person next to him quickly pulled his pants up and bailed from the restroom before Salem could exit the stall. Salem pushed the stall door open with such force that he nearly fell down, but he caught himself on the sink counter and regained his composure. He looked at his Dookie finger and gave it a quick sniff from beneath the pillowcase before washing his hands. After he dried them, he went over to the main door and locked it - and made sure he was the only person inside. He went back over to the counter and stared at himself in the mirror.
“I have to fix my face before the match..” He muttered to himself. He pulled the pillowcase off and looked in the mirror, and yup, his face was still melted. Well, to him it was, but in reality it was perfect. He could see his cheeks had melted down to his neck. His jaw was hanging on by threads and black blood clots fell into the sink from the open gaps where his cheeks used to be. His left eye still seemed ok, but his right eye was starting to fall out of its socket and some kind of fluid seemed to leak out from beneath it. His forehead was just pieces of melted flesh dangling around and blood had dried to his white skull above his eyebrows.
“Fuck….I’m gonna have to wear this stupid pillowcase during my match...Unless….unless I can get a doctor to help me with plastic surgery or some shit..” Disappointed that his face still looked like a pizza cooked in an oven with no tray, he put the pillowcase back on his head. He unlocked the restroom door and stepped back into the hotel restaurant. There wasn't very many people inside, but everyone in the room watched as the man with a pillowcase walked over to the bar and took his seat, drinking beer from a straw that fit the mouth-hole in his pillowcase. He turned his attention back to the TV in the corner of the bar as the bartender wiped down glasses and watched the weather with Salem. Snow was coming in. The woman on TV was a very attractive blonde; Salem mentally pictured what he would do with her as the bartender broke the silence.
“I hate the damn snow.”
Salem took his eyes off the attractive weather lady, “Yeah? I love it.”
“To each his own!” The bartender said with a smile.
Salem looked back to the TV and damn near jumped off his barstool in shock!! The hot weather lady was now Mindy. She was on TV, still with the news weather set behind her.
“Salem.” Mindy looked right at him, “You know, it was you that ruined my life. If you had never gotten me pregnant my life would have been different. I was never the same after the abortion and it’s your fault. Im a fucking hooker with the classy title of “escort” because you got me banished from my home. If you hadn't been such a fucking loser my life would have been better.”
“Fuck you, Bitch!!” Salem yelled out in the quiet restaurant. The bartender jumped and the few people still sitting at their tables all looked his way.
“Excuse me!?” The bartender asked with a slight scowl.
“I wasn't talking to you, I was talkin to that bitch!”
Salem pointed to the TV and the bartender looked, but it was only the attractive weather lady finishing her set. “I think you need to go, Mr. Shepard….That’s enough for the night.” He took away Salem’s empty bottle and slowly people turned their attention away from him. Then it registered in his confused little brain that Mindy wasn't really there. It was just another hallucination. He rubbed his temples beneath the pillowcase and finally got up from the stool and walked out of the hotel restaurant. The hall was quiet, the ride up the elevator was the same way. The doors slid open and a woman screamed out in fright as she was face to face with our pillowcased-hero. She took a step back and clutched her purse tight. Salem only laughed and rolled his eyes. He felt his stomach turning and churning, the Taco Bell still at work in his system. He went to his room and plopped down on the chair next to the desk.
“I need a doctor to fix me..” he muttered to himself as he pulled out his phone and googled doctors in his location. “I’ll call this guy tomorrow.”
**Pittsburgh, Penn. Hotel. 8:03am.**
“Yeah, uuumm, Hello. My name is Salem Shepard and I need to see a doctor.” …….….. “My problem? I have a melted face. I was doing a TV interview a couple days ago and the lights were soo hot that it melted my face off” ……….….”WELL FUCK YOU TOO, BITCH!!”
Salem angrily tapped on his phone to end the call and looked up the next doctor. He dialed that number and this time put it on speaker phone.
“Dr. Molasky’s office.”
“Yeah, Hi….Im Salem Shepard, RSW wrestling superstar….”
“Oh yes, I know who are you!!” Her voice seemed very excited and this gave Salem hope.
“I was needing to see a Doc about my melted face.”
There was a pause, “Uuumm...ok. I’m not sure if you're serious or not? I have seen your promos and Im aware of your situation….”
Salem cut her off, “Then you know this IS NOT a joke! Do you really think I would be trying to see a fuckin doctor if I was just kidding around!? ...Tell him to come see me. Today.”
“Well, he doesn't do outcalls I’m afraid…”
Salem, annoyed, sighed, “Listen….I’ll pay him for his time. I’ll pay him extremely well too. I just need to see if he can fix my fucking face before my match…”
The lady on the other line whispered something to someone before she got back to Salem, “Ok, Mr. Shepard. Dr. Molasky is right here, he wants to speak with you.”
An older man’s voice came through Salem’s phone, “Mr. Shepard. Im Dr. Molasky. First off, let me say, were big Awoken fans around here so it’s quite an honor to speak with you. My secretary is telling me that you’re having trouble with, aaahhh…..a melted face? ...Correct?”
Salem nodded, then realized the Dr couldn't see it. “Uhh, yeah. The TV set lights melted this shit down to my neck and my eye is close to popping out of its socket. I was wanting you to take a look at it and see what can be done before my match.”
Dr. Molasky could hear in Salem’s voice that he was dead serious - this was no prank, “Is there any way you can come see me today?”
“NO!!! ...sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I can't leave the hotel because people keep looking at me and threatening to call the cops if I don't take off the pillowcase. But if I take it off, everyone will see my melted face and put it on the internet. ...they’ll make memes out of me…”
“Well, we certainly don't want that. The problem is, it’s hard for me to get out of the office. Outcalls are not something I typically do….”
Salem slammed his fist down on the table, “Fuck!! Ok, what if I pay you $5,000? ….Will you come then?”
There was silence on the other line again for a moment, “Sure! For 5K!? Yessir. I can be there around 11am.”
“Ok good.” Salem relaxed and seemed satisfied with this answer. “My room number is 615. I’ll see you later. Thanks doc!!”
Salem didn't wait for a reply from Dr. Molasky as he hung up the phone and jumped up from the chair and clapped his hands in excitement! “Fuck yes!!! ….Gonna get fixed before my match!!”
“Speaking of my match….I see Chaos finally got off his lazy ass and produced a promo for us to watch. Well, I ended up falling asleep, but I’m pretty sure I didn't miss anything of value. If he produces promos like he wrestles, it's going to be a slaughter for Filth Factory. What's funny, is that Vlady Poot-Poot claimed that Knucks and I ran off when the match was booked - but until yesterday, I believe, Chaos hadn't said a word about his match!! He's been hiding, he's been scared!! He must have seen our matches and knows that he stands NO chance in the ring with us….
If he was smart, he would let Poop-Poot wrestle the entire match for him because that would be their only chance at winning. Is Chaos even ready for this match? He doesn't seem to be very prepared, or act like he even cares. Look, I know airing promos doesn't make a shit when we actually get in the ring and….Duke it out...but it shows me that he's not ready. It shows me that he's not preparing like he should be. All Chaos should be doing is training and airing promos. That's it!!! He's not good enough to sit around and watch tv, go on dates or whatever he does in his spare time. ...We know he's not airing promos, so I doubt he's taking the time to train either.
And at this point, because of that, I almost feel sorry for Vlady Poot-Poot. I know Vlady is training, all that mother fucker does is shove his face down our throats on TV, and for that, I give him a little respect. ...Not much, but it's better than nothing!! This is where Lex Collins and Eddie Havok, or Tommy Havok or Bob Havok...or whatever his name is in RSW, completely LOSES HIS SHIT!!!! Why? Cause I told those RSW guys I don't respect them at all, so I can't WAIT to see what they think about me giving a little, tiny baby sized respect for Vlady Poot-Poot.
You wanna see some crybabies? Go to the RSW as a new, young talent and tell them you don't respect them...hahaha….Holy fuck, they’ll lose their shit over it!! My respect level for Chaos is right there with the RSW roster - at Zero. I expect him to cry like a little bitch about it too. Well, fuck you, Chaos. You haven't earned shit in my book, you're just a living example of everything Vlady Poot-Poot has said about us running and hiding. ...yeah, that’s you, cause we aint running from shit. If anything were running TO the ring, ready to show the world why NBC aint shit, why NBC is a thing of the past and my Filth Factory is here to rule the wrestling world!!
I honestly think that Chos assumes they will win this match, well, Holy Run-on Sentence, Batman!!! ...See, I’m not sure if Chaos is a speed rapper or a wrestler. That mother fucker just talks and talks and talk with no breaks or breathes. Does he ever run out of breath when he talks?
Chaos talks like this: Yo, im gonna beat you, and I'm gonna win this match, and then i'm going to go out and eat, with my girlfriend, and we’ll have sushi, and we might have some drinks after that but i don't think that we will, we might go dancing instead before our match and then I’ll call Duke and ask him when I can fuck my girlfriend after we go dancing and get back to the house where I will take all her clothes off...and….
...Whew, I’m out of breath!!! See, I cant talk like Chaos does. I think he speed raps when he talks. Before I fell asleep, I see that Chaos was wanting to suck on Knuck’s wang a little...He has man crush on my boy Knucks, apparently. Does he think by saying he likes Knucks that he’ll go easier on him in the ring? Somehow, after all the shit we’ve talked about him, that {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} smiles and goes, “I like Knucks!!” ...You like your opponents? Aren't you supposed to hate them!?
I HATE all of my opponents because it fills me with anger, it gets my fired up wrestling people that I don't like and I LOVE the look in their eyes after I beat them and they see I hate their fuckin guts and have no respect for them. I can't be like, “Oh Vlady Poot-Poot, I really like you!!! You’re a nice guy just looking for some respect!” then go out there and destroy him. ...Chaos is confusing. One minute he wants to rub on Knucks pecker because he likes him, and in the same long ass breath, he says that Knucks ran his mouth to the wrong people. ...Then he talks shit about Knucks.
This is why I’m confused. If I like someone, I don't tell them I like them and then talk shit about them….Chaos must live in his own confusing little world, but that's ok, because his little world will consist of living in a hospital after Knucks and I get done with him; and Vlady Poo-Poot can go deliver him some flowers and help change his piss bucket on a daily basis. What the fuck do you mean we ‘ran our mouths to the wrong people,’ Chaos!? ….I’m waiting for a reply to that, but I think the next time I see your face it’ll be in the ring cause airing promos is not on your “to-do” list.
Bro, I talk shit to everyone. I run my mouth all the fuckin time!!! And you think that YOU’RE the wrong person to talk shit to!? Bitch, you wouldn't even be in the Top10 best wrestlers in the RSW, so I highly doubt I’m running my mouth to the wrong person. Nobody cares that you got into a wreck and you were told that you would never be able to wrestle again. You think being T-boned was bad!? HAHAHAHAHA….Bitch, that aint nothing compared to the damage were gonna inflict on you. I will hurt you soo fuckin bad that you’ll feel it down to the marrow in your bones. I'm gonna fuck you up soo bad that your face won't even be recognizable when the match is over. When they do get you to the hospital, they’ll have to fingerprint you just to make sure it's really Chaos. They’ll assume you got run over by a semi this time instead of T-boned.
You have to be the only {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} I know that brags about losing a match. You started talking about the first time you wrestled Vlady Poot-Poot after the car accident and all the rehab, and I thought “holy fuck, he came back from that and beat the Russian giant!” NOPE!!! YOU LOST!!! You fuckin lost by DQ!!!! You sounded like there was some big victory awaiting at the end of that story, ...but nope….Just you being a failure. It's good to know that you're accustomed to being a failure, and it's good to know that Vlady Poot-Poot probably expects very little out of you in this match.
And just like Vlady Poot-Poot did, you claim that we have soo much in common!! Holy fuck, where do you guys come up with this shit!? No, were not alike at all!! There's only one Salem Shepard and one Knucks. Unlike you, where there's 250 Chaos’ in this business. Knucks and I don't brag about losing matches, ...probably because I’ve never lost in my career and Filth Factory is undefeated too. Another reason why we have nothing in common is because Knucks and I just don't go around making shit up like the two of you do. I’ve already established that Poot-Poot just talks out his ass, but I guess you’ll do the same thing...Let me ask you Chaos, when did Knucks and I say we were ‘controversial?’
You dumb fuck!! Were just being ourselves, were just being who we are!!! Filth Factory describes us perfectly, it fits who we genuinely are. That’s not us trying to be controversial, that’s what the media labels us as!! So if you've “sat back and watched everything we've said” then you would know were just being ourselves and we don't care if people like it, don't like, get offended by it, find it crazy, nasty or controversial. Like we said before, this is NOT a fucking gimmick and I live this life that you see. I don't take this paint off and go back to my big mansion smoking cigars and reading Stephen King novels watching the Lifetime Network. Maybe that bitch boy Kyle would, but he aint here, you're looking at Salem Fuckin Shepard and what you see is how I live.
Everything I've shown you is how I live my life. Now go back and watch my matches, and you’ll see the dominating force that's sweeping the country, grabbing the attention of every set of eyes on the planet. And you might take some notes….No, not notes on how to beat us, but notes on how to be a successful tag team in 2019. As I’ve said, Chaos, I don't give a flying shit about how many Titles you've held or how long you've held them...cause that’s the past. I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT!!!! So if you listened to everything I’ve said, as you claim, then you would already know that!!! Holy shit guy, ...pay attention.
Why don't I care about your history, you ask? Because it means nothing to me!!! Those past accomplishments damn sure aren't going to help you win this match. But I get it, you want to live in the glory days of your past because we all know those glory days have come to an end. Knucks and I? We don't look back or live in the past. We focus on the NOW, we live for the NOW, were concerned about THIS match...Not some shit that happened years ago. And after we rip all the limbs from both your bodies and leave a bloody mess in the middle of the ring, we’ll forget about it. We’ll move on to the next match, the next challenge and keep pushing ourselves to the top of the wrestling world. We won't have time to look back on the ‘good ol days’ when we beat Vlady Poot-Poot and his partner who belongs in house-show opening matches.
Chaos, whichever one you are, sorry I'm not sorry about the beating of a lifetime you're about to receive. But, at least you know of a good hospital where they can ship your beaten body to. ...And after you rehab and get back on your feet, again, I would be more than willing to prove to the world a second time why you’ll never be anything in this business as long as Awoken and Filth Factory are in town.”
**Hotel, 11am**
There was a knock at Salem's door. Outside stood and gentlemen wearing a large coat who appeared to be in his late forties, early fifties. He had black hair speckled with gray that was quickly receding off from his forehead and he smiled as Salem’s pillowcased head appeared.
The door cracked open, “Come on in.” Salem said, and left the doctor to stand there by himself. He pushed the door opened and stepped inside; the room only had one light one casting a dark glow across the small hotel room. Salem had pulled the chair away from the wall and put it in the center of the room. He sat there with his hands on his legs, breathing hard. He was nervous.
“Hello, Mr. Shepard. Im Ryan Molasky.” He reached out for a handshake but quickly regretted it when he felt how sweaty Salem’s palm was. “So, you say that your face is, ….melted?”
“Y-yes, ...It was the TV lights. You can take the pillowcase off if you’d like.”
Dr. Molasky stepped forward and pulled the pillowcase from the man as Salem shouted out, “How back is it!?” How bad!!??”
The doctor looked at the man. He could see that Salem was truly terrified, that his face was melted, his eyes seemed cloudy and odd-colored; his paint was several days old and smeared all across his face along with remains of food on the sides of his lips. His hair was a matted, greasy, blue mess. He looked like shit, but his face wasnt melted.
“Well, son…” The doctor said with a smile. This encouraged Salem, his eyes grew wide in hope!
“So, so you can fix me!? You can fix my melted face!?”
Molasky nodded yes with a smile, “Yessir I sure can. I think it’ll be pretty easy. I think if you just wash that old paint off, wash your hair, and re-apply the paint….You’ll find that everything looks A-Ok, alright!?”
Salem was confused. What did this quack mean that he just needed to wash his face and put his paint back on!? Was this guy on drugs!? Did he not see the mangled, destoryed mess that was his fuckin face!? What was going on here!?
“Soooo, you’re telling me that I just need to clean up and put more paint on? ….How does that fix facemelt?
Dr. Molasky laughed, “Son, I see what you mean by ‘facemelt.’ Your paint does kinda look like it melted, but it just needs to be re-applied. ….Your face didn't REALLY melt..Haha!”
Salem jumped up from the chair and grabbed Dr. Molasky by his jacket with both hands. He slammed the man against the wall releasing one hand and running it over his own face. “CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT!?” Salem was only inches from the man and when he touched his own face he could feel his jaw nearly falling off, he could feel his fingernails scratch his skull,he could pull on the sagging skin on his neck that used to be his cheek.
“...AND YOU LIED TO ME!? TELL ME MY FUCKIN FACE IS…..FIINE??” Salem slammed him against the wall several times before throwing him to the ground. “...Get the fuck out….”
Dr. Molasky was shaking in fear, he trembled as he tried to gather the things that had fallen from his coat pockets and finally got to his feet. He backed to the door, never taking his eyes off Salem until he felt the doorknob in his hand behind him. He quickly turned and fled from the room.
Salem reached for the pillowcase and put it back on his head with anger. He punched the wall leaving a nice sized hole in the sheetrock, then went to grab the chair and threw it in the same direction. It hit the wall hard enough to bounce back into the small nightstand, sending Salems belongings flying across the room.
“It looks like I’ll have to fucking wrestle with this fucking face melt….But that isn't going to save you Duke. That's not going to stop Filth Factory. I can do this with no face at all and still raise my arms in victory after the match and look at the two beaten losers that were nothing more than an example. You two are going to be held on a running joke because this was supposed to be a fucking lay-up for you Duke. This was just supposed to be ‘just another match with RSW opponents.’
Instead, Knucks and I get to turn heads, we get to impress people that had never seen us before. We get new fans, and with new fans is more money!!! This match will just propel our careers to another level that branches out from the RSW. You did us a fuckin favor, Duke. You just helped us take a huge fuckin step in the right direction. I have a match coming up in the RSW soon, Knucks and I have to defend our tag Titles against those boring old people...Maybe we can send you guys some tickets.
Front row, complimentary of Filth Factory. You can come catch of glimpse of how good we are close up; how fast and talented we are to the naked eye. You can sit there and watch us defend our Titles, and after the match, ...you can watch us celebrate. You need specifically need to watch us celebrate, that's important, because I want you to visualize yourself in that ring. On the mat. Beaten and obliterated. ...And look at our faces and see the pride in them. See the passion for the sport in them. The hate that we have you, ...you’ll see that in our eyes too. "
Salem sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands together as the feed faded…..
click....click, click, click….click...click, click….click
Salem typed away on his phone while he sat on the toilet in the restroom attached to the hotels restaurant. He took a pic of his pants and boxers around his ankles with his hairy legs and sent it to Knucks, who he was texting.
Knucks (9:33pm): Bro, wtf….
Knucks (9:33pm): Where are you?
Salem (9:34pm): I’m on the toilet at the hotel taking a Duke.
Knucks (9:35pm): Bro, why are you sending me this? If Candy sees this pic shes gonna think I'm cheating on her with some guy...eewww…
Salem (9:35pm): It's not like I sent you a pic of my dick. Holy shit she's crazier than I am. But if you want a dick pic…..
Knucks (9:36pm): No! Hell no!! And yeah, I’ve wondered if Candy needs some of Kyles meds. Hey, have you left the hotel at all this week?
Salem (9:38pm): Yeah, I go for a run early every morning before the sun comes up so nobody can see my melted face or this stupid pillowcase and I train in the hotel gym after that. And I went to Taco Bell around the corner today. That's the reason I’m on the toilet right now. My ass is on fire!!
Knucks (9:38pm): Yeah man, the Bell gives you sting ring.
Salem (9:39pm): Sting ring!? lel Wtf is that?
Knucks (9:40pm): It's your asshole burning when you take a Duke. It’s really weird your texting me while your taking a Duke too btw.
Salem (9:41pm): I text you every time I take a Duke. You just don't know it!!
Knucks (9:42pm): I’ll get with you later bro. Fuckin Candy is pissed about something.
Salem (9:44pm): What else is new? Do you want me to kill her?
Knucks (9:44pm): What!? No!! I’ll talk to you tomorrow.
Salem (9:45pm): later bro.
Salem turned off his phone and grunted, letting out the finale of Taco Bell spray into the water with a splash. He pulled up his pants, buckled his belt, flushed the Taco bell slush and stepped out from the stall. And he stopped. He suddenly remembered that he had forgot something.
He forgot to wipe his ass.
He hesitated and almost started to walk out of the restroom but he did a U-turn and went back into the stall. He stood there for a second and from beneath the pillowcase the confusion in his eyes was clear. He bent down and noticed someone in the stall next to him, pants around their ankles.
“Hey, homie..” Salem said. Awkward silence came. “Yo, you in there dropping a deuce, I’m talking to you…”
Another long second of silence came before an irritated voice spoke up from the stall next to him, “What!?”
“I have a question for you.”
It was clear the guy next to him didn't want to respond, “What do you want!?”
“Ummm…” Salem looked at the toilet paper on his right connected to the stall wall, “I umm….Im not real sure how to wipe my ass...”
Another moment of awkward silence came before he responded, “Get the fuck outta here, guy. This some youtube bathroom prank or some shit?”
Salem shook his head ‘no’ violently, but obviously the man couldn't see it. “No, bro. Not a joke. Im serious.”
“Figure it out yourself, dipshit.”
Salem’s shoulders slouched and he dropped his head. He was hoping for some direction. “Ok, I will...But how many sheets do I use? I’ve never wiped my ass before. ...Kyle always did that for us.”
“Dude, fuckin leave me alone.” The voice from the neighboring stall was getting pissed.
Salem shrugged his shoulders and reached down for the toilet paper. He pulled out a massive strand that had to have been 25 sheets at least. He dropped his drawers and sat back down on the toilet. He surveyed the situation and realized there wasn't enough room for him to stick his hand down the front of the toilet and reach under to wipe. He got frustrated and lifted his ass slightly from the seat but he was confident that wasn't the way. So he got up and took a step in front of the toilet and squatted down as far as he could, his cheeks inches from the floor.
The guy in the stall next to him could clearly see his hairy ass cheeks from under the bottom gap of the stall, “HEY!! What the fuck are you doing!???” He yelled.
“I’M TRYING TO WIPE MY ASS!!!! YOU DIDN'T WANNA HELP, SO YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” Salem waded up the massive amount of paper into a ball and wiped from side to side. He established that method didn't work properly, so he went back to front. He readjusted the wadded ball of paper to a clean side and wiped again, this time front to back. He stood up and dropped the giant wad of paper in the toilet and realized when he readjusted the ball of TP for the last wipe, that he had gotten Taco Bell poo-slush on his fingers.
“AAAHHHHH!!!!” Salem freaked out and wiped his fingers on the stall wall leaving brown streaks. At this point, the person next to him quickly pulled his pants up and bailed from the restroom before Salem could exit the stall. Salem pushed the stall door open with such force that he nearly fell down, but he caught himself on the sink counter and regained his composure. He looked at his Dookie finger and gave it a quick sniff from beneath the pillowcase before washing his hands. After he dried them, he went over to the main door and locked it - and made sure he was the only person inside. He went back over to the counter and stared at himself in the mirror.
“I have to fix my face before the match..” He muttered to himself. He pulled the pillowcase off and looked in the mirror, and yup, his face was still melted. Well, to him it was, but in reality it was perfect. He could see his cheeks had melted down to his neck. His jaw was hanging on by threads and black blood clots fell into the sink from the open gaps where his cheeks used to be. His left eye still seemed ok, but his right eye was starting to fall out of its socket and some kind of fluid seemed to leak out from beneath it. His forehead was just pieces of melted flesh dangling around and blood had dried to his white skull above his eyebrows.
“Fuck….I’m gonna have to wear this stupid pillowcase during my match...Unless….unless I can get a doctor to help me with plastic surgery or some shit..” Disappointed that his face still looked like a pizza cooked in an oven with no tray, he put the pillowcase back on his head. He unlocked the restroom door and stepped back into the hotel restaurant. There wasn't very many people inside, but everyone in the room watched as the man with a pillowcase walked over to the bar and took his seat, drinking beer from a straw that fit the mouth-hole in his pillowcase. He turned his attention back to the TV in the corner of the bar as the bartender wiped down glasses and watched the weather with Salem. Snow was coming in. The woman on TV was a very attractive blonde; Salem mentally pictured what he would do with her as the bartender broke the silence.
“I hate the damn snow.”
Salem took his eyes off the attractive weather lady, “Yeah? I love it.”
“To each his own!” The bartender said with a smile.
Salem looked back to the TV and damn near jumped off his barstool in shock!! The hot weather lady was now Mindy. She was on TV, still with the news weather set behind her.
“Salem.” Mindy looked right at him, “You know, it was you that ruined my life. If you had never gotten me pregnant my life would have been different. I was never the same after the abortion and it’s your fault. Im a fucking hooker with the classy title of “escort” because you got me banished from my home. If you hadn't been such a fucking loser my life would have been better.”
“Fuck you, Bitch!!” Salem yelled out in the quiet restaurant. The bartender jumped and the few people still sitting at their tables all looked his way.
“Excuse me!?” The bartender asked with a slight scowl.
“I wasn't talking to you, I was talkin to that bitch!”
Salem pointed to the TV and the bartender looked, but it was only the attractive weather lady finishing her set. “I think you need to go, Mr. Shepard….That’s enough for the night.” He took away Salem’s empty bottle and slowly people turned their attention away from him. Then it registered in his confused little brain that Mindy wasn't really there. It was just another hallucination. He rubbed his temples beneath the pillowcase and finally got up from the stool and walked out of the hotel restaurant. The hall was quiet, the ride up the elevator was the same way. The doors slid open and a woman screamed out in fright as she was face to face with our pillowcased-hero. She took a step back and clutched her purse tight. Salem only laughed and rolled his eyes. He felt his stomach turning and churning, the Taco Bell still at work in his system. He went to his room and plopped down on the chair next to the desk.
“I need a doctor to fix me..” he muttered to himself as he pulled out his phone and googled doctors in his location. “I’ll call this guy tomorrow.”
************
**Pittsburgh, Penn. Hotel. 8:03am.**
“Yeah, uuumm, Hello. My name is Salem Shepard and I need to see a doctor.” …….….. “My problem? I have a melted face. I was doing a TV interview a couple days ago and the lights were soo hot that it melted my face off” ……….….”WELL FUCK YOU TOO, BITCH!!”
Salem angrily tapped on his phone to end the call and looked up the next doctor. He dialed that number and this time put it on speaker phone.
“Dr. Molasky’s office.”
“Yeah, Hi….Im Salem Shepard, RSW wrestling superstar….”
“Oh yes, I know who are you!!” Her voice seemed very excited and this gave Salem hope.
“I was needing to see a Doc about my melted face.”
There was a pause, “Uuumm...ok. I’m not sure if you're serious or not? I have seen your promos and Im aware of your situation….”
Salem cut her off, “Then you know this IS NOT a joke! Do you really think I would be trying to see a fuckin doctor if I was just kidding around!? ...Tell him to come see me. Today.”
“Well, he doesn't do outcalls I’m afraid…”
Salem, annoyed, sighed, “Listen….I’ll pay him for his time. I’ll pay him extremely well too. I just need to see if he can fix my fucking face before my match…”
The lady on the other line whispered something to someone before she got back to Salem, “Ok, Mr. Shepard. Dr. Molasky is right here, he wants to speak with you.”
An older man’s voice came through Salem’s phone, “Mr. Shepard. Im Dr. Molasky. First off, let me say, were big Awoken fans around here so it’s quite an honor to speak with you. My secretary is telling me that you’re having trouble with, aaahhh…..a melted face? ...Correct?”
Salem nodded, then realized the Dr couldn't see it. “Uhh, yeah. The TV set lights melted this shit down to my neck and my eye is close to popping out of its socket. I was wanting you to take a look at it and see what can be done before my match.”
Dr. Molasky could hear in Salem’s voice that he was dead serious - this was no prank, “Is there any way you can come see me today?”
“NO!!! ...sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I can't leave the hotel because people keep looking at me and threatening to call the cops if I don't take off the pillowcase. But if I take it off, everyone will see my melted face and put it on the internet. ...they’ll make memes out of me…”
“Well, we certainly don't want that. The problem is, it’s hard for me to get out of the office. Outcalls are not something I typically do….”
Salem slammed his fist down on the table, “Fuck!! Ok, what if I pay you $5,000? ….Will you come then?”
There was silence on the other line again for a moment, “Sure! For 5K!? Yessir. I can be there around 11am.”
“Ok good.” Salem relaxed and seemed satisfied with this answer. “My room number is 615. I’ll see you later. Thanks doc!!”
Salem didn't wait for a reply from Dr. Molasky as he hung up the phone and jumped up from the chair and clapped his hands in excitement! “Fuck yes!!! ….Gonna get fixed before my match!!”
“Speaking of my match….I see Chaos finally got off his lazy ass and produced a promo for us to watch. Well, I ended up falling asleep, but I’m pretty sure I didn't miss anything of value. If he produces promos like he wrestles, it's going to be a slaughter for Filth Factory. What's funny, is that Vlady Poot-Poot claimed that Knucks and I ran off when the match was booked - but until yesterday, I believe, Chaos hadn't said a word about his match!! He's been hiding, he's been scared!! He must have seen our matches and knows that he stands NO chance in the ring with us….
If he was smart, he would let Poop-Poot wrestle the entire match for him because that would be their only chance at winning. Is Chaos even ready for this match? He doesn't seem to be very prepared, or act like he even cares. Look, I know airing promos doesn't make a shit when we actually get in the ring and….Duke it out...but it shows me that he's not ready. It shows me that he's not preparing like he should be. All Chaos should be doing is training and airing promos. That's it!!! He's not good enough to sit around and watch tv, go on dates or whatever he does in his spare time. ...We know he's not airing promos, so I doubt he's taking the time to train either.
And at this point, because of that, I almost feel sorry for Vlady Poot-Poot. I know Vlady is training, all that mother fucker does is shove his face down our throats on TV, and for that, I give him a little respect. ...Not much, but it's better than nothing!! This is where Lex Collins and Eddie Havok, or Tommy Havok or Bob Havok...or whatever his name is in RSW, completely LOSES HIS SHIT!!!! Why? Cause I told those RSW guys I don't respect them at all, so I can't WAIT to see what they think about me giving a little, tiny baby sized respect for Vlady Poot-Poot.
You wanna see some crybabies? Go to the RSW as a new, young talent and tell them you don't respect them...hahaha….Holy fuck, they’ll lose their shit over it!! My respect level for Chaos is right there with the RSW roster - at Zero. I expect him to cry like a little bitch about it too. Well, fuck you, Chaos. You haven't earned shit in my book, you're just a living example of everything Vlady Poot-Poot has said about us running and hiding. ...yeah, that’s you, cause we aint running from shit. If anything were running TO the ring, ready to show the world why NBC aint shit, why NBC is a thing of the past and my Filth Factory is here to rule the wrestling world!!
I honestly think that Chos assumes they will win this match, well, Holy Run-on Sentence, Batman!!! ...See, I’m not sure if Chaos is a speed rapper or a wrestler. That mother fucker just talks and talks and talk with no breaks or breathes. Does he ever run out of breath when he talks?
Chaos talks like this: Yo, im gonna beat you, and I'm gonna win this match, and then i'm going to go out and eat, with my girlfriend, and we’ll have sushi, and we might have some drinks after that but i don't think that we will, we might go dancing instead before our match and then I’ll call Duke and ask him when I can fuck my girlfriend after we go dancing and get back to the house where I will take all her clothes off...and….
...Whew, I’m out of breath!!! See, I cant talk like Chaos does. I think he speed raps when he talks. Before I fell asleep, I see that Chaos was wanting to suck on Knuck’s wang a little...He has man crush on my boy Knucks, apparently. Does he think by saying he likes Knucks that he’ll go easier on him in the ring? Somehow, after all the shit we’ve talked about him, that {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} smiles and goes, “I like Knucks!!” ...You like your opponents? Aren't you supposed to hate them!?
I HATE all of my opponents because it fills me with anger, it gets my fired up wrestling people that I don't like and I LOVE the look in their eyes after I beat them and they see I hate their fuckin guts and have no respect for them. I can't be like, “Oh Vlady Poot-Poot, I really like you!!! You’re a nice guy just looking for some respect!” then go out there and destroy him. ...Chaos is confusing. One minute he wants to rub on Knucks pecker because he likes him, and in the same long ass breath, he says that Knucks ran his mouth to the wrong people. ...Then he talks shit about Knucks.
This is why I’m confused. If I like someone, I don't tell them I like them and then talk shit about them….Chaos must live in his own confusing little world, but that's ok, because his little world will consist of living in a hospital after Knucks and I get done with him; and Vlady Poo-Poot can go deliver him some flowers and help change his piss bucket on a daily basis. What the fuck do you mean we ‘ran our mouths to the wrong people,’ Chaos!? ….I’m waiting for a reply to that, but I think the next time I see your face it’ll be in the ring cause airing promos is not on your “to-do” list.
Bro, I talk shit to everyone. I run my mouth all the fuckin time!!! And you think that YOU’RE the wrong person to talk shit to!? Bitch, you wouldn't even be in the Top10 best wrestlers in the RSW, so I highly doubt I’m running my mouth to the wrong person. Nobody cares that you got into a wreck and you were told that you would never be able to wrestle again. You think being T-boned was bad!? HAHAHAHAHA….Bitch, that aint nothing compared to the damage were gonna inflict on you. I will hurt you soo fuckin bad that you’ll feel it down to the marrow in your bones. I'm gonna fuck you up soo bad that your face won't even be recognizable when the match is over. When they do get you to the hospital, they’ll have to fingerprint you just to make sure it's really Chaos. They’ll assume you got run over by a semi this time instead of T-boned.
You have to be the only {Mongo Edit: Nah we don't say that anymore} I know that brags about losing a match. You started talking about the first time you wrestled Vlady Poot-Poot after the car accident and all the rehab, and I thought “holy fuck, he came back from that and beat the Russian giant!” NOPE!!! YOU LOST!!! You fuckin lost by DQ!!!! You sounded like there was some big victory awaiting at the end of that story, ...but nope….Just you being a failure. It's good to know that you're accustomed to being a failure, and it's good to know that Vlady Poot-Poot probably expects very little out of you in this match.
And just like Vlady Poot-Poot did, you claim that we have soo much in common!! Holy fuck, where do you guys come up with this shit!? No, were not alike at all!! There's only one Salem Shepard and one Knucks. Unlike you, where there's 250 Chaos’ in this business. Knucks and I don't brag about losing matches, ...probably because I’ve never lost in my career and Filth Factory is undefeated too. Another reason why we have nothing in common is because Knucks and I just don't go around making shit up like the two of you do. I’ve already established that Poot-Poot just talks out his ass, but I guess you’ll do the same thing...Let me ask you Chaos, when did Knucks and I say we were ‘controversial?’
You dumb fuck!! Were just being ourselves, were just being who we are!!! Filth Factory describes us perfectly, it fits who we genuinely are. That’s not us trying to be controversial, that’s what the media labels us as!! So if you've “sat back and watched everything we've said” then you would know were just being ourselves and we don't care if people like it, don't like, get offended by it, find it crazy, nasty or controversial. Like we said before, this is NOT a fucking gimmick and I live this life that you see. I don't take this paint off and go back to my big mansion smoking cigars and reading Stephen King novels watching the Lifetime Network. Maybe that bitch boy Kyle would, but he aint here, you're looking at Salem Fuckin Shepard and what you see is how I live.
Everything I've shown you is how I live my life. Now go back and watch my matches, and you’ll see the dominating force that's sweeping the country, grabbing the attention of every set of eyes on the planet. And you might take some notes….No, not notes on how to beat us, but notes on how to be a successful tag team in 2019. As I’ve said, Chaos, I don't give a flying shit about how many Titles you've held or how long you've held them...cause that’s the past. I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT!!!! So if you listened to everything I’ve said, as you claim, then you would already know that!!! Holy shit guy, ...pay attention.
Why don't I care about your history, you ask? Because it means nothing to me!!! Those past accomplishments damn sure aren't going to help you win this match. But I get it, you want to live in the glory days of your past because we all know those glory days have come to an end. Knucks and I? We don't look back or live in the past. We focus on the NOW, we live for the NOW, were concerned about THIS match...Not some shit that happened years ago. And after we rip all the limbs from both your bodies and leave a bloody mess in the middle of the ring, we’ll forget about it. We’ll move on to the next match, the next challenge and keep pushing ourselves to the top of the wrestling world. We won't have time to look back on the ‘good ol days’ when we beat Vlady Poot-Poot and his partner who belongs in house-show opening matches.
Chaos, whichever one you are, sorry I'm not sorry about the beating of a lifetime you're about to receive. But, at least you know of a good hospital where they can ship your beaten body to. ...And after you rehab and get back on your feet, again, I would be more than willing to prove to the world a second time why you’ll never be anything in this business as long as Awoken and Filth Factory are in town.”
***********
**Hotel, 11am**
There was a knock at Salem's door. Outside stood and gentlemen wearing a large coat who appeared to be in his late forties, early fifties. He had black hair speckled with gray that was quickly receding off from his forehead and he smiled as Salem’s pillowcased head appeared.
The door cracked open, “Come on in.” Salem said, and left the doctor to stand there by himself. He pushed the door opened and stepped inside; the room only had one light one casting a dark glow across the small hotel room. Salem had pulled the chair away from the wall and put it in the center of the room. He sat there with his hands on his legs, breathing hard. He was nervous.
“Hello, Mr. Shepard. Im Ryan Molasky.” He reached out for a handshake but quickly regretted it when he felt how sweaty Salem’s palm was. “So, you say that your face is, ….melted?”
“Y-yes, ...It was the TV lights. You can take the pillowcase off if you’d like.”
Dr. Molasky stepped forward and pulled the pillowcase from the man as Salem shouted out, “How back is it!?” How bad!!??”
The doctor looked at the man. He could see that Salem was truly terrified, that his face was melted, his eyes seemed cloudy and odd-colored; his paint was several days old and smeared all across his face along with remains of food on the sides of his lips. His hair was a matted, greasy, blue mess. He looked like shit, but his face wasnt melted.
“Well, son…” The doctor said with a smile. This encouraged Salem, his eyes grew wide in hope!
“So, so you can fix me!? You can fix my melted face!?”
Molasky nodded yes with a smile, “Yessir I sure can. I think it’ll be pretty easy. I think if you just wash that old paint off, wash your hair, and re-apply the paint….You’ll find that everything looks A-Ok, alright!?”
Salem was confused. What did this quack mean that he just needed to wash his face and put his paint back on!? Was this guy on drugs!? Did he not see the mangled, destoryed mess that was his fuckin face!? What was going on here!?
“Soooo, you’re telling me that I just need to clean up and put more paint on? ….How does that fix facemelt?
Dr. Molasky laughed, “Son, I see what you mean by ‘facemelt.’ Your paint does kinda look like it melted, but it just needs to be re-applied. ….Your face didn't REALLY melt..Haha!”
Salem jumped up from the chair and grabbed Dr. Molasky by his jacket with both hands. He slammed the man against the wall releasing one hand and running it over his own face. “CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT!?” Salem was only inches from the man and when he touched his own face he could feel his jaw nearly falling off, he could feel his fingernails scratch his skull,he could pull on the sagging skin on his neck that used to be his cheek.
“...AND YOU LIED TO ME!? TELL ME MY FUCKIN FACE IS…..FIINE??” Salem slammed him against the wall several times before throwing him to the ground. “...Get the fuck out….”
Dr. Molasky was shaking in fear, he trembled as he tried to gather the things that had fallen from his coat pockets and finally got to his feet. He backed to the door, never taking his eyes off Salem until he felt the doorknob in his hand behind him. He quickly turned and fled from the room.
Salem reached for the pillowcase and put it back on his head with anger. He punched the wall leaving a nice sized hole in the sheetrock, then went to grab the chair and threw it in the same direction. It hit the wall hard enough to bounce back into the small nightstand, sending Salems belongings flying across the room.
“It looks like I’ll have to fucking wrestle with this fucking face melt….But that isn't going to save you Duke. That's not going to stop Filth Factory. I can do this with no face at all and still raise my arms in victory after the match and look at the two beaten losers that were nothing more than an example. You two are going to be held on a running joke because this was supposed to be a fucking lay-up for you Duke. This was just supposed to be ‘just another match with RSW opponents.’
Instead, Knucks and I get to turn heads, we get to impress people that had never seen us before. We get new fans, and with new fans is more money!!! This match will just propel our careers to another level that branches out from the RSW. You did us a fuckin favor, Duke. You just helped us take a huge fuckin step in the right direction. I have a match coming up in the RSW soon, Knucks and I have to defend our tag Titles against those boring old people...Maybe we can send you guys some tickets.
Front row, complimentary of Filth Factory. You can come catch of glimpse of how good we are close up; how fast and talented we are to the naked eye. You can sit there and watch us defend our Titles, and after the match, ...you can watch us celebrate. You need specifically need to watch us celebrate, that's important, because I want you to visualize yourself in that ring. On the mat. Beaten and obliterated. ...And look at our faces and see the pride in them. See the passion for the sport in them. The hate that we have you, ...you’ll see that in our eyes too. "
Salem sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands together as the feed faded…..