Post by Andre Aquarius on Apr 19, 2020 11:54:48 GMT -5
Part 1: Thin ice
Jason Zurra: I’m at a loss for words…
Board rooms gotta a fuckin’ vanilla air to’em. I fuckin’ hate board rooms.
Andre: Ayy...you pay for the ceiling, bruh bruh. Imma hit it, but what I don’t appreciate is havin’ my brand and value disrespected, ya dig? Right about now, I’m feelin’ reaaal disrespected.
Jason Zurra: We need that potential to hit! We’re looking for stars here!
Andre: You ain’t even seen my prime yet.
Jason Zurra: Prime is what we paid for and we expect it NOW!
Andre: Imma hit it. My shit finna take off and make y’all fuckin’ millions.
Jason Zurra: Zero wins..three losses. Do you understand that?!
Andre: You ain’t even mention the truck loads of merch I be movin’ out here OR the increase in number of streams. I’m bumpin’ shit even when I LOSE matches.
Jason Zurra: It’s time you start winning them. Ever since the contract details leaked, we’ve been made to look like fools. Adam and Irina are starting to grow tired of the whole situation FAST.
Netflix Rep: While you certainly have a point about the importance of our big money signings achieving high level success in the ring, Mr. Taylor is not wrong. The numbers ARE higher. People have growing pains though, right?
Yo, I ain’t even tryna front wit’ you, she kinda fire. I mean, the fact that she on my side wit’ this might be swayin’ my dick a lil’ bit too, but she got a lil’ Krystal Ball look to her and ya boy ain’t been in nobody for a couple days.
I’m so fuckin’ in.
Andre: Is that Jean Patou?
I could see them goosebumps risin’ up in high def as I closed the gap between us.
Andre: Of course.
Seducin’ rich white women is an art and there’s a real specific way to do it. Step one, talk how you normally would. Gender don’t matter wit’ step one, because white folk in general like to overcompensate for their awkwardness around niggas wit’ increased professionalism. Step two is more important though. That’s what you seein’ right now. See, I lead in by bringin’ them into my world just a lil’ bit and then switch it up on’em by speakin’ in a way that speaks to them. Most people ain’t know that ya boy got an intellectual side. I stay havin’ that advantage.
Andre: You know it.
Zurra ain’t like me, but it’s whatever. Wrestlin’ management has they own fucked up view on me as a competitor, but this bitch, this is my in. This is where I stay ahead of things wit’ the bidness side.
Netflix Rep: So, we’re all good here then, yeah?
Andre: I’ve got a request if you don’t mind.
Jason Zurra: I don’t know if you’re in the position to do so.
Netflix Rep: What’s the request?
Andre: I want a contender’s match for the world title.
Jason Zurra: Absolutely not.
I get them digits wanderin’ underneath the table and run’em up her leg, the heat between her legs rollin’ off the pads of each finger.
Zurra looks ready to just beat the fuckin’ tar outta ya boy. #LOL
Jason Zurra: You’re talking to me?
Andre: Yeah.
Her legs quake as my right pointer finger slides in up to the second knuckle. Zurra shakes his head and doesn’t say much of anything before he heads for the conference room door. It’s the two of us now, the rows of blinds separating us fully from outside view.
Part 2: If you pray right
Andre: Why am I here? I’m zero and three in AyyPDub and niggas ain’t even heard from me in weeks. I know y’all be thinkin’ the same shit when the announcement came about who was finna be fightin’ for a shot at Massah Warrens and the big boi strap, you ain’t even need to say shit. I could read it on ya faces. The fact that I’m in the position I am this week should tell ya everything you need to know about ya own individual stock in this company. I’m sure it makes everyone fuckin’ furious that the thing they be scratchin’ and clawin’ for is just thrown right into my lap.
Ten months in and it ain’t one muhfucker in the back that’s even come close to establishin’ themselves as the number one option. That’s why I was signed in the first place though and why I’m gettin’ the opportunity that I am. AyyPDub needs lightskin marketability to really push shit forward. No more stale runs from rinse and repeat suit and tie ass bois, because them streamin’ numbers been stagnant under those reigns. I can make a lot of white people a lot of money and I can cave in a dome piece or two as I grab hold of that ol’ brass ring shit within just a couple’uh weeks. It’s why I make what I make and get thrown right back to the shit.
Allow ya boi to tell it how it is real quick, because the way I see it, I’m bein’ put up against fodder. The powers that be want this whole thing to grow and I’m tryna fuck a bitch wit’ the strap flung across my shoulder. So what do they do? They give me a corny ass votive candle muhfucker and the mellowdramatic, perennial cornball that is Damian Kaine. This week, the company made the right business decision for themselves and at the end of the day when it comes time to bend the knee and give Mister Kunta what it is that he wants, niggas will always deliver.
In El Muertos, you have a Spanglish speakin’, wet haired bass player that be lookin’ like they ripped his ass from a telenovela ‘bout the life and times of Kevin Bishop except without any of the rights to create anything made in Bishop’s likeness and the tales that are spun range only from vapid drizzle shits to preachy word vomit. Much like Damian’s goofy, overly manicured ass, Muertos’ actions are cinematic and calculated down to a science. For someone who claim they wit’ the fuck shit, Muertos is quiet and safe in the way he conducts himself ‘round this bitch.
This is someone wit’ a high and mighty attitude talkin’ from a low position, a muhfucker who sees themselves as the voice of reason and justice. Muertos is the judge wit’ a gavel that squeaks when ya bang it, the jury wit’ a surface level understandin’, and the executioner wit’ a wiffle ball bat. It’s all fuckin’ hollow because for all that determination and effort, he’s out here makin’ plops instead of makin’ a splash. Part of that is because anything of note that I could find as a viewer and even as an opponent in Muertos, I can already find wit’ those who do the same shtick wit’ more seasonin’.
He’s absolutely fuckin’ shallow and one note through and through. To keep it a buck fitty wit’ ya, El Muertos stands for everything and nothing at the same time, a real serious hours type ******* wit’ the lightbulb up top havin’ burned out months ago. This is someone of deep fuckin’ conviction whose conviction ain’t garnered an ounce of respect. He’s cold and calculated when need be, but ain’t producin’ enough change for a McDouble when them fingers start diggin’ around in the center console.
Still, we do have one thing in common between us, that thing bein’ death. We’re both obsessed in our own ways. For Muertos, it’s makin’ sure he’s payin’ respeck to it’s occurrence. For me, it’s makin’ it happen in the first place. I do it through stamina and big dick energy, because I get a kick out of wearin’ people down. Always yappin’, always just fuckin’ incessant. It’s the one thing people try to slander me wit’ all while my star outshines theirs and people instantly flip past their pages in entries in the program booklet. I prove time and time again that influence in itself is fuckin’ deadly and that my words absolutely have buryin’ power. Just like this match where Muertos is left lookin’ like a face painted gimp for the five millionth time in his short AyyPDub career. It’s with my aura, my words, and my GAWD DAMN elbows that the IWC will rush to the keyboards in the aftermath to smash the fuck outta them “F’s”.
When that bell rings, Imma have Muertos followin’ me like a dog on a leash, because I know he considers himself a man of GAWD and right now, you’re lookin’ at one. When you step into my ring, you enter my world and in Andre Aquarius’ world, you will learn to get on down and give me the lip service that my presence demands just like every fuckin’ goober that watches this shit solely because the camera is on yours truly. I am spirituality, I am religion, I am everything you believe in and when El Muertos is forced once again to share a ring with me, Imma make that ******* question EVERYTHING.
Part 3: Good stank
I could tell it had to at least been a minute since lil’ mama got stretched out, if at all really. The pussy was squeezin’ down on my shit wit’ all the energy of a muhfucker hangin’ off the edge of a cliff wit’ one arm. She squirmed and belted out in pure ecstasy as ya boi’s royal thiccness slammed up on her organ like Stevie wit’ a swarm of bees up in the concert hall. We just out here writin’ songs in the key of life, ya know?
Andre: Make sure I face dogshit competition in my contender’s match?
Netflix exec: What?
She was speakin’ real breathless as she asked the question. My response was an ass clappin’ thrust up into that good good.
I took it as an answer, knowin’ full well that I now owned every inch of this woman from here on out.
As I delivered another hard thrust into them guts, I thought about her word choice. It wasn’t heat of the moment. Nah, this was emotional word choice. I usually be tryin’ to get the fuck away from the situation when it comes to terms of endearment and shit, but there’s value here.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
I pull out and shoot strings out onto the carpet, makin’ sure to shake myself off and zip up as I back away to let her do the same thing. She brushes her hair to the side and goes for the door, briefcase clutched in hand as she passes by Zurra. I follow after her make my way out to the hall where he shoots me a shit look.
Jason Zurra: But we were just-
Netflix exec: I look forward to the result.
I extend my hand for hers, knowin’ full well Zurra heard us fuckin’.
Netflix exec: It’s Chloe.
Part 4: Cable is dead and so are you
Andre: I ain’t finna sit here and front wit’ any of you right now, it’s fuckin’ exhaustin’ to sit here and try to hold someone to the flame like El Muertos who ain’t got a GAWD DAMN interestin’ bone in his entire body. Ya boi stays longin’ for the part of the leadup where I get to talk my shit and it just ain’t quite as fun when I feel like I’m talkin’ ‘bout some first name last name muhfucker. Again, part’uh that just comes back to the fact that El Muertos has made his whole fuckin’ image into this agreeable ass brand. Damian Kaine though? Finally, some good fuckin’ food. Maaaan, that’s a sloppy ass pussy right there.
It feels off to have someone nobody remembers for much of anything in terms of individual merit and drawin’ power come back and act like they packin’ both. In a way, it’s kinda gross to see someone just shoutin’ into the air. “Damian Kaine is THE BEST!” and it’s just fuckin’ crickets. Thems the strats, but is they bringin’ results? Is they securin’ the bag for real though? There’s no one word that you could say that would remind muhfuckers of the name Damian Kaine outside’uh the word “who”, because genuinely, we out here feelin’ like it’s real dementia hours.
He be tryin’ though, right? Constantly throwin’ himself at one thing after the next, shovin’ that goofy ass mug into whatever alliance might help him get a lil’ bit of that good “over” wit’ the fanbase. Damian Kaine just out here stinkin’ up the building wit’ desperation, but I also feel a bit of sadness radiatin’ from the tone deaf muhfucker. I’m sure it’s hella fuckin’ depressing to want so badly to be THE guy and get them real pops like the big bois get and just fail to scratch the surface no matter what you do. I mean, niggas love me so I can’t relate, but feelsbadman.
If there’s one thing to define this ******* it’s throwin’ shit at the wall to see what sticks, tryin’ time and time again to find that niche and find that groove, just a fuckin’ place where he belongs or can thrive and look like a star in this business, but it never works out for ol’ Damian. It all loops back to that and that’s where we come to everyone bein’ Damian Kaine’s best friend for all of like a month or two. The man is a fuckin’ coattail rider, a white bitch shovin’ her face into a group selfie she wasn’t really invited to take part in from the jump.
In all of them alliances, DK is the lil’ bro that just fuckin’ tags along. The Brotherhood connection seems distant and ol’ cufflink muhfucker over here was the fourth most important member and I only remember like three of them niggas. The relationship with that goofball Adrian? Archer was a goon loathed by all. That run wit’ The Avengers back in UCI where they was off savin’ planets and get faced off boot liquor at Richards’ hole in the wall bar? Damian Kaine just shoves his way into good graces wit’ the clique before lookin’ up at his massahs like “What’s my superpower, guys?”
Imma answer for the fuckin’ runt and tell y’all that it’s being untalented and uninspiring, or really, inspirin’ for all the wrong reasons. He sure ain’t reachin’ the masses, but in a way, he’s reachin’ SickWaves. See, the opportunity to realign this *******’s jaw for a title match got the blood flowin’ down to my hangdown big time, ‘cause I see the corny charade in it’s entirety. Muhfucker gets the itch to get back on stage and start tapdancin’ away wit’ his Shirley Temple lookin’ ass and one CapriSun and win over Bonnie Blue later, he’s suddenly ‘BOUT THAT ACTION and I’m supposed to believe that he’s here for some smoke? What a cute lil’ lesbian.
Really doe, for those who ain’t know ‘bout they UCI history and wanna know what that superpower was, it was makin’ craters in the Earth. Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot make this shit up and in the midst of a temper tantrum over not gettin’ that dank ass big boi push, he rips a whole in the Earth and tosses that ******* Ol’ Z into the center and stands wit’ that ol’ “TADA!” face and looks on as the crowd goes mild, havin’ just witnessed the action of a rejected MCU character. This ******* had everyone waitin’ for a shitty Joss Whedon punchline that never came, because the real punchline was this goofy ass bitch himself and him buryin’ his own career as Ol’ Z laughed it off, crawled up out that bitch, and took his ass down to KFC for some’uh that extra crispy. (AKA the Damian Kaine combo #LOL)
In all of that jealous, school shooter rage that Damian had buildin’ up, he failed to see the truth ‘bout himself, that Damian Kaine can only blame himself for bein’ a fuckin’ flop and a flop is exactly what he is. He admits it when talkin’ ‘bout that last WCF run he had, but still just ain’t comprehend the fact that it’s ‘cause muhfuckers just ain’t that into Damian Kaine. It ain’t come down to the matches you lose either. I mean, Prince Lightskin is livin’ proof that real Gs will always go over in the end. I make fuckin’ BANK when I come up short, but Lil’ Damian? He just gotta look up at his elders wit’ his hands together and politely ask for the step stool.
Damian Kaine’s return is the one that nobody asked for, the one that nobody wanted, the one that everyone wants to see fail, ‘cause they know that it will. Damian Kaine is a melodramatic titty baby who lacks a solid foundation of identity and self worth. In everything he does, DK is a scatterbrained spastic wit’ a Buzzfeed haircut and a head full of bad CW TV show ideas. At the end of the day, the Batman cosplay looks like shit and everyone knows that Joker is the one who gets all the pussy anyways. This week, Damian will fade to nothin’ and the rest of the world will…
#FadeToLightskin
