Post by Vonn Richter on Jun 17, 2020 12:27:38 GMT -5
Vonn Richter has become such a hot commodity in pro wrestling he’s taking meetings. He’s sitting outside of his local Smoothie King with a huge travel mug full of high protein goodness. Several empty cups are stacked on the table in front of him.
Vonn’s appointment arrives. He’s a middle aged incel looking mofo in a faded “Hossamania” tee and jorts. His arm flab oozes out from under its sleeves like dough from a broken tube of Pillsbury biscuits, disgusting Vonn. He holds out his hand.
Mystery Man for the Moment: Vonn, I’m Ian Nathan Vicers, President of Wrestlegate.
Richter keeps slurping on his smoothie while shaking Vicers’s hand. Vicars sits.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Thanks for meeting with me.
Ricther shrugs his mighty shoulders. He’s trying to play it cool but inside he was pretty excited. Wrestlgate wanted to sponsor him! Give him money and publicity! This was why he got into the business, to make bank and get famous. And maybe these guys could help him do it. His stepbrother Jesse said not to meet with them. He said Wrestlegate’s membership was “toxic” and “the laughingstock of the sport’s fanbase” but people said the same thing about Vonn too! And Vonn was amazing! At the very least he should listen to their pitch.
Vonn Richter: ‘Sup?
Ian Nathan Vicers: Before we start, I just want to say congrats on your recent win streak. You’ve been dominating Alpha Pro for weeks. And I think it’s shameful that you aren’t being treated better.
Vonn Richter: Yeah, it sucks.
Ian Nathan Vicers: And the way they are downplaying the sacrifice you’re making by volunteering to be APW’s “Czar of Swoll” is, excuse me, fucking insulting. You’re trying to help the roster and no one seems to care.
Vonn Richter: Yeah, ‘cept for Little Bit everybody is no-selling it. Buncha chodes.
The briefest glimmer of dissatisfaction crosses Ian’s neckbearded mug when Sarah Lacklan is mentioned. Vonn doesn’t pick up on it, though, because Vonn is dumb and self-absorbed.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Wrestlegate can help you with that, Vonn. We want what you want, and we can amplify the message you’re spreading. You’re the perfect embodiment of what pro wrestling should be Vonn, and, if you’ll let us, we’d like to join you on your journey to the top of the sport.
This all sounded good to Vonn, but there was still the most important question that needed to be answered.
Vonn Richter: What’s in it for me, bro?
Ian Nathan Vicers: We’ll give you a stipend for expenses. You’ll never have to pay for travel or lodging. You’ll have access to all of WG’s contacts in the business. Want a manager or valet? We’ll provide you with one. Need an assist putting together a promo? Our membership includes some spectacularly creative people; real graphics wizards. And most importantly, you’ll have the undying support of the half million of us who loudly and proudly proclaim themselves Wrestlegaters. We’ll cheer for you. We’ll talk you up online. We’ll buy your merch. We will put the spotlight on you Vonn, and make it so no one will ever ignore you again.
This sounded good to Vonn, especially the stuff about money! Sure this Vicers guy gave off real beta cuck vibes, but most wrestling fans were beta cucks. Vonn really wanted to say yes, but held off. Play hard to get for a while, and make Vicers chase him a little. Fuck knows he needed the exercise.
Vonn Richter: I’ll think about it, bro.
He held out his fist for some dap. Vicars enthusiastically reciprocated. The two sat in silence for a moment.
Ian Nathan Vicers: So, Jaice Wilds?
Vonn Richter: Deader than disco.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Good!
“Judge Shred”: As the Czar of Swoll for Alpha Pro Wrestling I am the Law! And as such ipso facto I flex in judgement of my next Monday Night Metal opponent Jaice Wilds! Jaice Wilds, I find you GUILTY of not maximizing your gains, and for that the sentence is SUBMISSION by Seismic Shock! Hold up.
“Shred” removes his helmet and reveals himself to be- surprise!- Vonn Richter.
Vonn Richter: Got to break character for this. I’m about to do something I almost never ever do; say something nice about another wrestler. Because for true, the one thing Jaice Wilds canNOT be accused of is maximizing his gains. Bro’s got more hustle and chutzpah (pronounced ‘shoots-paw’ by Vonn) than almost anyone in this business. If Wilds was half as good at wrestling as he was at grifting he’d be World Champion, which, as I’m gonna get to, is what this match is about.
Richter tucks the bucket helm into his armpit. The camera pulls back, he’s wearing a Dystopian-State chic studded leather jacket covered with Crypto-fascist themed insignia. He’s got his gear on underneath.
Vonn Richter: Wilds does more than maximize his gains; he maximizes his losses. Duder’s able to make himself relevant despite being, at best, a middle of the road talent. He’s suckered legendary wrestlers into fighting him time and time again and as such seems more important than he really is. I’m legit jelly at this. I’m begging for people to square off with me in bodybuilding segments! I got to stalk Dakota Joseph Franco- DAKOTA JOSEPH FRANCO!- to set up a PPV match. Meanwhile Jaice is out there reeling in the top talent. Bro casts his hook, gives his line a wiggle, and BAM! Corey Black takes the bait. Or Bonnie Blue. Or Joey fucking Flash. These people know he’s got zero chance against them and they’re giving up a better spot on the card for the honor of pinning him but goddamn if they don’t fall for his schtick (he gets the pronunciation of this Yiddish aphorism correct amazingly). Hell, he’s making me work! My normal pre-fight routine is hitting the gym and tanning salon. But now, I’m training! I’m watching tape of this flippy-dippy asshole’s matches! And for that in some small way Jaice Wilds has already won. Congrats, Jaice, you got me. But that is the only “W” that you’re earning against me, Wilds, because at Metal I’m going to beat you.
Vonn takes the head protector out from under the crook of his arm and tosses it from hand to hand.
Vonn Richter: I’m going to engage in a little fantasy booking here. Fantasy in the sense of how I think this match came about. Let me know if I’m right or wrong, Jaice. You were hiding out in your bunker after losing another title shot to Black and one of his meat shields, plotting and scheming your next move. And then, a miracle happened! Jason Ryan became Alpha Pro World Champion! That’s when you saw your chance, because just like everyone else on this roster who’s paying attention you thought to yourself- “Jason Ryan?! I can take that guy!” And you know what? You’re probably right! There was a problem, though, and you’re shrewd enough to know it. You couldn’t make the challenge outright, not after your clown show of an attempt to get the straps off the Man Made Gods. There was a solution though: play the game, at least for a little while . You went to Irina’s office, hid behind your bangs, gave a coy little smile and said, ‘Can you book me?’ And she said yes because the roster is hemorrhaging talent right now and she needs bodies. So you got the gig. Then: Phase Two of your Master Plan! You noted ‘Vonn Richter’s got a four match win streak, but he hasn’t really been tested yet. Might I have a crack at him?’ And again, she said yes because, well, it’s the truth. And inside you were thinking ‘Score! I will end Vonn’s win streak, rebuild some of my diminished credibility (as a talent in ring, you got no chance of fixing your credibility outside it), and then claim ‘I slew the giant. Here’s some additional ‘David and Goliath’ wordplay: long shots and slingshots- Wisdom of Solomon- blah blah blah- I deserve a chance to contend for the APW Heavyweight Championship and become the true King of the Promised Land.
Richter throws the helmet in the air.
Vonn Richter: Am I close, Jaice? I bet I am. That’s why you got me all riled up. You are one of this business’s biggest faces in the sense everyone who sees your lip-licking mug wants your opponent to kick the shit out of you. You have achieved S-Tier level of heelishness while working with midcard material and even better you can successfully argue you’re the wronged party in most of your feuds. I’m in awe of your ability to be so motherfucking deep with such a shallow act. It’s so good I’d almost think you’re a secret genius and your plans within plans are actually part of an even bigger plan: a piece of performance art more massive in scope and ambition than Dethwar. But if that’s the case, your plan’s about to hit a slight hiccup, Jaice. Your mistake came when you saw me as a stepping stone, and I am far from that. I am Vonn Richter, The All Natural Disaster! Where I step, stone crumbles. You’re not going to gain a micro-joule of momentum against me Monday, because you are not winning. I’m going to beat the brakes off you in that ring for daring to think you can move your way up the card at my expense. I’m done playing around, Jaice.
Is he, though? It’s at this point the helmet descends from the sky and affixes itself perfectly on Vonn’s noggin.
“Judge Shred”: JUDGEMENT TIME!!!
He shrugs out of his jacket. A mannequin wearing Jaice’s ring gear lands perfectly on his shoulders in the Argentine backbreaker position. “Shred” roars, and grabs holding of the body, bending its limbs downward, twisting its torso until the entire body ruptures in an explosion of confetti and streamers.
Vonn’s appointment arrives. He’s a middle aged incel looking mofo in a faded “Hossamania” tee and jorts. His arm flab oozes out from under its sleeves like dough from a broken tube of Pillsbury biscuits, disgusting Vonn. He holds out his hand.
Mystery Man for the Moment: Vonn, I’m Ian Nathan Vicers, President of Wrestlegate.
Richter keeps slurping on his smoothie while shaking Vicers’s hand. Vicars sits.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Thanks for meeting with me.
Ricther shrugs his mighty shoulders. He’s trying to play it cool but inside he was pretty excited. Wrestlgate wanted to sponsor him! Give him money and publicity! This was why he got into the business, to make bank and get famous. And maybe these guys could help him do it. His stepbrother Jesse said not to meet with them. He said Wrestlegate’s membership was “toxic” and “the laughingstock of the sport’s fanbase” but people said the same thing about Vonn too! And Vonn was amazing! At the very least he should listen to their pitch.
Vonn Richter: ‘Sup?
Ian Nathan Vicers: Before we start, I just want to say congrats on your recent win streak. You’ve been dominating Alpha Pro for weeks. And I think it’s shameful that you aren’t being treated better.
Vonn Richter: Yeah, it sucks.
Ian Nathan Vicers: And the way they are downplaying the sacrifice you’re making by volunteering to be APW’s “Czar of Swoll” is, excuse me, fucking insulting. You’re trying to help the roster and no one seems to care.
Vonn Richter: Yeah, ‘cept for Little Bit everybody is no-selling it. Buncha chodes.
The briefest glimmer of dissatisfaction crosses Ian’s neckbearded mug when Sarah Lacklan is mentioned. Vonn doesn’t pick up on it, though, because Vonn is dumb and self-absorbed.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Wrestlegate can help you with that, Vonn. We want what you want, and we can amplify the message you’re spreading. You’re the perfect embodiment of what pro wrestling should be Vonn, and, if you’ll let us, we’d like to join you on your journey to the top of the sport.
This all sounded good to Vonn, but there was still the most important question that needed to be answered.
Vonn Richter: What’s in it for me, bro?
Ian Nathan Vicers: We’ll give you a stipend for expenses. You’ll never have to pay for travel or lodging. You’ll have access to all of WG’s contacts in the business. Want a manager or valet? We’ll provide you with one. Need an assist putting together a promo? Our membership includes some spectacularly creative people; real graphics wizards. And most importantly, you’ll have the undying support of the half million of us who loudly and proudly proclaim themselves Wrestlegaters. We’ll cheer for you. We’ll talk you up online. We’ll buy your merch. We will put the spotlight on you Vonn, and make it so no one will ever ignore you again.
This sounded good to Vonn, especially the stuff about money! Sure this Vicers guy gave off real beta cuck vibes, but most wrestling fans were beta cucks. Vonn really wanted to say yes, but held off. Play hard to get for a while, and make Vicers chase him a little. Fuck knows he needed the exercise.
Vonn Richter: I’ll think about it, bro.
He held out his fist for some dap. Vicars enthusiastically reciprocated. The two sat in silence for a moment.
Ian Nathan Vicers: So, Jaice Wilds?
Vonn Richter: Deader than disco.
Ian Nathan Vicers: Good!
*******
“Judge Shred”: As the Czar of Swoll for Alpha Pro Wrestling I am the Law! And as such ipso facto I flex in judgement of my next Monday Night Metal opponent Jaice Wilds! Jaice Wilds, I find you GUILTY of not maximizing your gains, and for that the sentence is SUBMISSION by Seismic Shock! Hold up.
“Shred” removes his helmet and reveals himself to be- surprise!- Vonn Richter.
Vonn Richter: Got to break character for this. I’m about to do something I almost never ever do; say something nice about another wrestler. Because for true, the one thing Jaice Wilds canNOT be accused of is maximizing his gains. Bro’s got more hustle and chutzpah (pronounced ‘shoots-paw’ by Vonn) than almost anyone in this business. If Wilds was half as good at wrestling as he was at grifting he’d be World Champion, which, as I’m gonna get to, is what this match is about.
Richter tucks the bucket helm into his armpit. The camera pulls back, he’s wearing a Dystopian-State chic studded leather jacket covered with Crypto-fascist themed insignia. He’s got his gear on underneath.
Vonn Richter: Wilds does more than maximize his gains; he maximizes his losses. Duder’s able to make himself relevant despite being, at best, a middle of the road talent. He’s suckered legendary wrestlers into fighting him time and time again and as such seems more important than he really is. I’m legit jelly at this. I’m begging for people to square off with me in bodybuilding segments! I got to stalk Dakota Joseph Franco- DAKOTA JOSEPH FRANCO!- to set up a PPV match. Meanwhile Jaice is out there reeling in the top talent. Bro casts his hook, gives his line a wiggle, and BAM! Corey Black takes the bait. Or Bonnie Blue. Or Joey fucking Flash. These people know he’s got zero chance against them and they’re giving up a better spot on the card for the honor of pinning him but goddamn if they don’t fall for his schtick (he gets the pronunciation of this Yiddish aphorism correct amazingly). Hell, he’s making me work! My normal pre-fight routine is hitting the gym and tanning salon. But now, I’m training! I’m watching tape of this flippy-dippy asshole’s matches! And for that in some small way Jaice Wilds has already won. Congrats, Jaice, you got me. But that is the only “W” that you’re earning against me, Wilds, because at Metal I’m going to beat you.
Vonn takes the head protector out from under the crook of his arm and tosses it from hand to hand.
Vonn Richter: I’m going to engage in a little fantasy booking here. Fantasy in the sense of how I think this match came about. Let me know if I’m right or wrong, Jaice. You were hiding out in your bunker after losing another title shot to Black and one of his meat shields, plotting and scheming your next move. And then, a miracle happened! Jason Ryan became Alpha Pro World Champion! That’s when you saw your chance, because just like everyone else on this roster who’s paying attention you thought to yourself- “Jason Ryan?! I can take that guy!” And you know what? You’re probably right! There was a problem, though, and you’re shrewd enough to know it. You couldn’t make the challenge outright, not after your clown show of an attempt to get the straps off the Man Made Gods. There was a solution though: play the game, at least for a little while . You went to Irina’s office, hid behind your bangs, gave a coy little smile and said, ‘Can you book me?’ And she said yes because the roster is hemorrhaging talent right now and she needs bodies. So you got the gig. Then: Phase Two of your Master Plan! You noted ‘Vonn Richter’s got a four match win streak, but he hasn’t really been tested yet. Might I have a crack at him?’ And again, she said yes because, well, it’s the truth. And inside you were thinking ‘Score! I will end Vonn’s win streak, rebuild some of my diminished credibility (as a talent in ring, you got no chance of fixing your credibility outside it), and then claim ‘I slew the giant. Here’s some additional ‘David and Goliath’ wordplay: long shots and slingshots- Wisdom of Solomon- blah blah blah- I deserve a chance to contend for the APW Heavyweight Championship and become the true King of the Promised Land.
Richter throws the helmet in the air.
Vonn Richter: Am I close, Jaice? I bet I am. That’s why you got me all riled up. You are one of this business’s biggest faces in the sense everyone who sees your lip-licking mug wants your opponent to kick the shit out of you. You have achieved S-Tier level of heelishness while working with midcard material and even better you can successfully argue you’re the wronged party in most of your feuds. I’m in awe of your ability to be so motherfucking deep with such a shallow act. It’s so good I’d almost think you’re a secret genius and your plans within plans are actually part of an even bigger plan: a piece of performance art more massive in scope and ambition than Dethwar. But if that’s the case, your plan’s about to hit a slight hiccup, Jaice. Your mistake came when you saw me as a stepping stone, and I am far from that. I am Vonn Richter, The All Natural Disaster! Where I step, stone crumbles. You’re not going to gain a micro-joule of momentum against me Monday, because you are not winning. I’m going to beat the brakes off you in that ring for daring to think you can move your way up the card at my expense. I’m done playing around, Jaice.
Is he, though? It’s at this point the helmet descends from the sky and affixes itself perfectly on Vonn’s noggin.
“Judge Shred”: JUDGEMENT TIME!!!
He shrugs out of his jacket. A mannequin wearing Jaice’s ring gear lands perfectly on his shoulders in the Argentine backbreaker position. “Shred” roars, and grabs holding of the body, bending its limbs downward, twisting its torso until the entire body ruptures in an explosion of confetti and streamers.
