Post by Andre Aquarius on Apr 23, 2020 0:13:04 GMT -5
Part 1: Proclamation
Ooh I don’t need y’all either
Ooh don’t wanna talk about it
Ooh like I don’t, like I don’t know nobody
Like I don’t know nobody
I guess I don’t!
The theme carries on in the background as I pass the curtain through Gorilla, the scene surroundin’ me givin’ off mixed vibes. There’s those who be lookin’ hella awkward as if they surprised or some shit, then ya got a handful’uh yes man niggas in the back wit’ a fatass “ayyy” like they lookin’ at Yung Fonzarelli. The chatter come out they mouths is a jumbled mess of..
CONGRATS, MAN!
BIG DOG!
BIG WIN OUT THERE! DOES THIS MEAN THAT I TOO, CAN NOW SAY THE N WORD?
They get the lil’ smirk, the lil’ plottin’ ass smirk from ya boi, but the shit they talkin’ ain’t nothin’ to me at the moment. Needless to say, I’m sorta on that cloud nine right now, cause my shit playin’ at the end of a contender’s match is just fuckin’...surreal. I pass through all them clappin’ ass hallway muhfuckers and into that solo dojo, that fuckin’ lone wolf locker room that comes as an added bonus wit’ the seven figure salary.
I stand wit’ one foot in, one out on my hokie pokie ish, just lettin’ myself live in the moment for a lil’ bit longer before steppin’ in fully and waitin’ for it to click shut. Once inside, I’m greeted by silence, silence that let’s me feel..everything. The good...the bad. Without thinkin’, I lunge forward in a blind rage and grab for anything not nailed down, just chuckin’ shit around the place. I come up on the locker space and lean against the wall overhead, the tears beginning to flood down my face. I ball up my right fist and rear back, smashing it into the wall.
Wit’ my breathin’ all over the place and my senses on fire, I collect myself and move toward the shower. I strip down in front’uh the mirror where I run my hand across every little bruise and scrape, all of them fresh from the match and maybe it’s just the adrenaline bein’ all up in my bidness, but I feel good...free really. For the first time in my career, I’d made it to the spot I’d been chasin’ all along and not on the back of anybody else, just my own fuckin’ merit as a competitor. Andre Aquarius fighting for a world championship. This is it and all I can say...is I hope they’re watchin’.
Part 2: Least favorite Earth child
The beachfront was fuckin’ wrecked, cans and bitches clothin’ strung all up and down the bitch. It was early mornin’, maybe three or four and among the trash was a maze of perfectly tanned pussy sprawled out like they’d spent the whole night takin’ Tyson jabs. You know goin’ into this shit though that most of’em ain’t finna be able to hang. Those that were still up was zoned the fuck out near the shore, gettin’ fingered and watchin’ the stars and shit on top of beach towels that was stained up wit’ stank from hours old Patron.
We was different though. Life for the krew was a party you never had to wake up on the wrong side of. No unbeatable hangovers or walks of shame, because we was winnin’ shit and dominatin’ the scene, just hangin’ over the top of everything and everyone as this pop culture zeitgeist. Nobody was touchin’ our shit and I’d argue that the only thing that could do in #BeachKrew was #BeachKrew itself.
Jim Thuggin: Do you smell that, my children?
Kyle Kemp: You mean vomit?
Jim Thuggin: Not quite, Earth child Kemp.
Andre: I think he’s talkin’ ‘bout success.
As the water rained down on me inside my locker room, I stared at the tiled wall ahead. Through the waterfall drippin’ off my scalp, I remain half in the now and half in the then with Thuggin’ and his calculated tone and word choice still lingerin’ underneath the sound of the shower.
Some chuckles from the rest of the boys was echoin’ out into the air from our circle formation ‘round a small log fire.
Jim Thuggin: I think that there is some truth though. What Earth child Jared is asking you right now isn’t an unreasonable question nor is it one that hasn’t been asked in people’s minds before.
Andre: Shit, you out here actin’ like Imma slouch or some shit.
Jim Thuggin: I feel a more proper term would be underachiever, maybe even criminally so.
Andre: You be lookin’ at shit all right right now, Jimothy.
Jim Thuggin: How so?
Andre: I bring clout to the table. I’m out here drivin’ the aesthetic. Title belt or not, I bring that next level marketability to this whole fuckin’ operation. You wanna talk ‘bout in the ring? *******, I am a fuckin’ dog! Everybody here seen’t what this right elbow is a capable of doin’ when it’s time to square up against muhfuckers! It ain’t no matter of IF, it’s a when with me. Don’t worry ‘bout me, my time’s comin’.
Jim Thuggin: No need to get emotional, just a discussion.
Andre: Feelin’ a lil’ bit attacked right now is all.
Jim Thuggin: You should be more open to criticism. If you aren’t, how do you reach for any higher potential?
Andre: I’ve gotta take a piss.
I stand up and move to a tree off to the side of the house, Thuggin’s voice still audible and uninterrupted as I leave the scene.
Least favorite. A foundin’ member of the group, a day one ride or die, but I was...least favorite?
Fuck him and fuck everyone in the clique who thought the same. I fuckin’ made it. Imma prove every last one of’em wrong even if I gotta fuckin’ paralyze Damon to do it.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
I wrap a towel ‘round my waist, not wantin’ whoever the fuck it is to see the might of my thiccness before Damon gets the chance to.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
I tuck the tail end in to secure it and reach for the handle. As soon as it completes it’s revolution, I’m greeted by Chloe in all her bad bitch suit wearin’ glory, her blonde hair lookin’ fine as fuck in a bun pulled tight against her head.
Chloe: Oh...my god. That was incredible!
She bursts inside, her eyes lighting up more and more as she talks.
I pull her in and wrap my arms around her tight, feelin’ my eyes becomin’ misty again as I hide my face on the side of hers.
I realized what I’d done and started pullin’ back just a little from this person who was a stranger to me days ago.
Chloe: You proved a lot of people wrong tonight, Andre. My phone is blowing up right now! Have you seen this? Number one trending on Twitter by a LONGSHOT! People can’t stop talking about what you just did out there!
Andre: Yeah, I told y’all I’d pull it off.
Chloe: Well, thank you for that. If you’re almost done, they’re starting the post-show soon and you’re wanted out there for the press conference. Do you think you’re about ready?
Andre: Yeah...I’ll be right out.
Chloe: Awesome! I’ll see you out there!
Andre: Hey, Chloe.
Chloe: Yeah?
Andre: Thank you for everything.
Part 3: The moment
Lights, camera, but not Action cause them niggas did ya boi hella dirty. First thought, after all this bullshit is done and I’ve throat chopped that fuckin’ Gomer Damon in his stupid fuckin’ white trash neck tattoo, I might just take that strap up to Madison Square Garden and watch a bunch of fuckin’ bums duke it out in that Havoc Rumble just to flex wit’ the title over my shoulder.
ANDRE, OVER HERE!
ANDRE, QUICK QUESTION!
ANDRE, DO YOU CARE TO COMMENT ON WHETHER OR NOT YOUR WIN THIS WEEK MEANS THAT I TOO, CAN NOW SAY THE N WORD?
Why muhfuckers keep askin’ me that?
ANDRE!
Andre: One at a time, bruh bruh, one at a time.
The flash’uh them camera lights finna make my nose bleed or somethin’ if they don’t cut the shit out, ‘bout to have a ******* dancin’ ‘round like Little Richard or some shit.
Andre: Gotchu.
Reporter #1: Let me start by saying what we’re all thinking right now, HUGE win tonight and no doubt the biggest of your career to this point. After a zero and three start here in APW, what was different about tonight? What helped you get the job done and turn things around like that?
Andre: The way things started out here had a lot of niggas fooled into thinkin’ that I would be somethin’ less than an impact player, that I wasn’t somehow gonna end up as THE impact player at the end’uh the day. When you a bad muhfucker, you find a way and you end up showin’ the world that all it takes is that one lil’ opening. You’re lookin’ at the lightskin Nate Diaz for real and for anybody sittin’ back at home wit’ the shocked Pikachu face right now, congratulations, you played yourself.
Reporter #2: Over here.
Andre: Yup yup.
Reporter #2: With this being your first real shot at a world title, does headlining Gods of Wrestling feel more like Andre Aquarius preparing to enter his prime or do you think this has been a long time coming for you?
Andre: First off, ya boi IS a Yung GAWD of Wrestlin’. It only makes sense that I get to headline the fuckin’ show that’s basically named after me and given that I’m the fuckin’ number one attraction, everything is exactly as it should be, but you ask me if this is the prime or some shit that’s overdue..why not both, man? Look, every time I grab a mic to talk to y’all, I mean every fuckin’ word that comes out of my mouth and every time I step in that ring, I’m goin’ in there to ruin another *******’s life.
Guess what I’m tryna say is that I been in my prime from day fuckin’ one and I know I got some Pitchfork writin’ ass critics who finna paint me as somethin’ else, but have muhfuckers stopped to think about how long it ACTUALLY took me to get to this point? For sure, I been climbin’ that mountain and boucin’ muhfuckers for years now, but look how many REAL shots it took me to get here. Any guesses? Anyone? Fat ass ******* in the back wit’ the lil’ Pee Wee bow tie? How ‘bout that Rick Moranis lookin’ ass boi right up front here?
I scoot forward and lean close into the mic, bending it down towards me.
Reporter #3: Andre!
Andre: What’s good?
Reporter #3: Damon Warrens has left a pretty big impact at the top in APW after defeating a real torch carrier in Smith Jones. What do you feel makes you equipped to beat the man who beat the man?
Andre: What’s your name, bro?
Reporter #3: Roger Hanson, Three Count News.
Andre: Roger, have you by chance heard Damon Warrens speak? I mean, like..ever?
Reporter #3: Of course.
Andre: Nice and right now, I’m the one wit’ your attention and I’m talkin’ to you and everyone else here like a real fuckin’ person. Wit’ Andre Aquarius, you get Andre Taylor. Shit’s one in the same and as authentic as you’ll get in this bidness. What I’m bringin’ to y’all is somethin’ that Damon Warrens ain’t got a drop of in his entire bloodstream and that is rawness. When I leave here and they waltz that fuckin’ android in here to talk to you, you’ll see what I mean, that one of us eats, breathes, and shits and the other gotta be plugged into the socket every night just to be able to show up week in and week out.
I’m not concerned about whether or not I have the ability to unseat some fuckin’ Pete Buttigieg fanfic *******, because I know who I am and I know my place ‘round here. I see through Damon and I know who he is now. The last time we met was brief, but I be seein’ clear as fuck after havin’ myself the proper time to scout a ******* out. You can try to spin it some other way, but underneath Damon’s self touted prowess is a stiff fuckin’ spine that just ain’t bendin’ right. I’m willin’ to bet the tip’uh my dick that I know the man better than he knows himself, that he sees his demeanor and whole fuckin’ shtick as just bein’ “proper and well versed”.
I’ll call it how it is for ya. Damon Warrens is an uptight, socially deficient, fuckin’ geek of a world champion and an absolute fuckin’ insult to the term itself. I want to see this *******’s shitty Aryan haircut turn blood red, I want to see him so hurt and depressed that Irina puts this ******* on leave for the whole Summer, because as someone who IS comin’ to the world wit’ the realness, it disgusts me that this company’s world champion is a lil’ boi who’s out here speakin’ like Babs Johnson in Pink Flamingos and thinkin’ that the rest of the world tryna eat that dog shit too.
Right now, I am livin’ and Damon Warrens? Damon Warrens is as fuckin’ lifeless as they come. Knowin’ that I have the power to really do somethin’ about it is all the motivation I need to push me over the top and flip the narrative. Some of y’all finna call this the Damon Warrens era, but I see it as nothin’ more than a pit stop on the way to the reign of Andre. What Damon Warrens holdin’ the world title means for AyyPDub is a bored audience and cheap stocks. What it means for me is savin’ the world from the fuckin’ bodysnatchers.
When he DOES come out here to talk to y’all by the way, you ain’t just finna be bored outta your fuckin’ minds, you’re ‘bout to be forced to listen to a whole lot of fuckin’ nothin’ ‘bout how Prince Lightskin is an inferior chump all because my own record ain’t padded out by midcard feeder talent yet and because “The words that I choose so selectively for myself don’t come out of my mouth so elequently, preachy, or pretentious. Oh, pity me. What an absolute fool I am!” Y’all ever just think ‘bout how that’s how a real life human being talks and the world is just fuckin’ subject to all of it? Well tea time is fuckin’ over, because what I get to prove this week is that ya playbook and ya manners don’t mean shit against a ******* who wants to bite ya ear off and spit it back in ya uppity ass face.
Reporter #4: Is the villain of the year accolade something that holds any weight with you?
Andre: He ain’t won’em where I been and he ain’t fought a ******* like me. I’m the muhfucker shootin’ people wit’ rocket launchers and beatin’ down Gemini Battle in Mexico. I am fuckin’ BAD. I don’t stop cumin’ at or even on niggas if I feel like lightin’em up wit’ a graffitti tag made from a batch of little Andre’s. No Looney Toons fuckin’ goofball is touchin’ that, not even close. This week, the true YUNG GAWD of wrestling will put Damon Warrens in the history books as the one who fell to the greatest world champ that this company has ever seen. Get ready, y'all, ‘cause the era of SickWaves Blackamura is just rollin’ in.
#FadeToLightskin
