Post by Vonn Richter on Aug 26, 2020 12:36:26 GMT -5
The tracking shot of a white feather drifting aimlessly in the breeze should clue cinephiles in to exactly which culture hero Vonn Richter will be cosplaying as in his latest hype video. If there was any doubt the camera, and feather, eventually settles on the mesomorphic meathead sitting on a park bench wearing a white twill two button suit with matching slacks over a checkered broadcloth shirt, striped knee socks and leather shoes. He has a flat top hair cut and an expression that can be charitably described as ‘innocent’. He speaks.
“Mah name is Forrest. Forrest Pump(ed).”
He smirks, but only for a moment; resuming the countenance of one who would seem to possess wisdom far beyond his years, intelligence, and overall life experience.
“Mah Mama always sed: Alpha Pro Wrasslin’ Penultimate Showdown Match is lakh a box of chockalaytes: you know exactly whut you gonna git.”
‘Forrest’ opens the box in his lap and picks up a single candy while simultaneously dropping the cornpone accent because he is just not that committed to the bit. His face, too, takes on a more sinister and snarky mien.
“Aaron Blaze is nougat. Soft. Disappointing when you take that first bite. Total waste of space. Dude was the worst member of the Bloodline, and that says something! Aaron, I don’t know when the fuck you came back but you should have stayed away.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Alexander Hayes is a walnut cream. Sounds good on paper but man when you take a closer look at it in the box you recognize it as dogshit. So, ‘Lex: what’s your story? Ned get you off the Rez with promises of championship gold? Not going to happen, college boy. Not with me in that ring.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Adelaide Ainsworth is a Jordan Almond. Sweet and sugary looking but with a hard interior and a hint of cyanide. Boo, you the biggest threat to me in this match. I know it and admit it. Don’t get your panties too wet over that compliment, though. You still losing. You still trash. I’m going to point out what that cuck Scoutmaster was too nice to say: you and Lissie are using Robbie Hope’s death to get over. It’s gross. You’re riding his corpse, and I don’t mean in the sexual sense. I ain’t hypothesizing some kind of necrophilical incestural bisexual menage-e-trois amongst you. Don’t ban me, Ned! No, it’s like, Robbie’s the sled, and the Swallowing’s a two man luge team, and your run so far has been a successful slalom. But you gonna crash and burn soon, Addy. It starts when I make you tap to the Seismic Shock. I got a pretty good idea how it’s gonna end too. So do you, I reckon.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. A little dab of chocolate is left behind in the corner of his mouth. He produces another piece.
“Alex Scott is also nougat. Everything I said about Aaron Blaze applies to him except that Bloodline stuff. You can add a dash of vanilla in there on account of him being a cruiserweight.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Andrew- Jesus, how many “A”s are in this fed?- Barnes is a chocolate covered peanut aka a ‘Goober’. A goody-two shoes with Daddy Issues who dares to think he can step in the ring with the All Natural Disaster. There are stories that Barnsey Boy really isn’t a nice guy, but that’s just newz. You can’t kid a kidder, bro: you’re lily white to the core. And fuck no, I ain’t washing my hands.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He waggles his dirty fingers to the camera before producing another sweet.
“Dave Van Dam is… nowhere to be found on the APW Roster Page. Is he real? Does he even exist? Is he some kind of fictitious candy that only exists in the bipolar brain of Willy Wonka? Don’t matter. He gonna suffer the same fate as the rest.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Elliot Siscoe is also not on the roster page. For God’s sake, Ned! I know interning is an unpaid gig but would it kill you to let your talent know who exactly they gonna be squaring off against? If I lose to either him or the other mystery man I’m fucking gone! Gonna take my talents to Action Wrestling! Jk/jk you’re stuck with me.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s more chocolate shmutz around his lips. He produces another piece.
“Gavin Drake is a peanut butter cup. Not a Reese’s though; the generic, sucky kind. Because Gavin’s as generic as you can get. He ticks all the boxes: second generation wrestler, ‘take no bullshit’ personality, sportsman themed gimmick. Where’d you find these people, Ned?”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Harvey Berlin is a chocolate covered toffee. You know, those skinny candies that always seems to be in the box no matter how many times you’re sure you ate the last one? Why you back, Harvey? You got no shot at winning. You just a body to fill out this Battle Royal. You here for the tiny little pop that’s going to come from the APW hardcore fans who remember your previous run. You an addict, Harvey. You addicted to the spotlight just like I’m addicted to jacking people up, only my habit pays dividends for me. You, all you’re gonna get out of this appearance is heartache. It’s sad man, just sad.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s chocolate on his chin now. He produces another piece.
“Jaice Wilds is maple fudge, literally the worst fucking candy you there is. Wilds, you realize how much I fucking hate you? You talentless goof. You shiftless, spineless, pointless scrub. I’m fucking glad Oblivion didn’t kill you for leaving him high and dry in your title match against the Man Made Gods, because now I get to do it myself. Real talk, Wilds: if there’s a choice between winning and snapping your spine, I’m taking the latter. I’d rather be the one that finally ends your career than be APW World Champion. That tells you how much joy I would get out of snuffing your worthless existence. I want to be the guy who can look at Black and Blue and Flash and all the other legends who couldn’t put you down and laugh because I did what they couldn’t. You know what’s Inevitable, Jaice? Your future vocation as the world’s most annoying paperweight, courtesy of yours truly.”
He doesn’t like doing it, but ‘Forrest’ pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“John Blade is that solid chunk of chocolate that’s right in the dead center of the box. You know the one I’m talking about? The one with the candy company’s brand on it. That’s Blade: he exists. He’s somebody’s favorite wrestler, because just like that hunk of candy he’s always there. You know what exactly you’re going to get out of him. It’s nothing special, but Jesus even an asshole like me’s got to give him his props. John Blade, I salute you.”
‘Forrest’ does indeed salute the chocolate that represents “The Champ”. Then he pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Lex Collins is… back? Dude I thought you died?! Didn’t all you Architects bite it? Fuck, what was that memorial I did you for then? Those were real tears, Lex, and they were all for nothing. So, what brings you back, mah man? You think the new administration gonna to overlook the fact you bolted when life got tough for you? No secret you thought the old regime treated you like shit, even though you and the other crybabies in your clique were handled with kid gloves. They even let you go out on your own terms, instead of on your back like you should have. Yeah, you talented, but nowhere as good as you’d think. Red Riot had you pegged, Lex. You’re peanut brittle: easy to break. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you in this match.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Lilianna Rose is a raspberry parfait. Sounds yummy, sounds sexy on account parfait is French and French is the language of love; but really it’s just gross. Lilianna ain’t sexy. You want to see sexy, you look at my buddy Little Bit. Tough. Smart. Funny. Talks the talk and backs it up. Now, she ain’t exactly my type; I prefer the gals with a little fuller balcony if you know what I’m saying.
‘Forrest’ does the universal pantomime for ‘big boobies’ by groping at the air in front of his own impressive chesticle region.
“Plus, you know, Sarah’s a lesbian and married. But my point still stands! She’s dead sexy because she’s good at what she does. Rose ain’t because she isn’t.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. After a slight sniffle in memory of his absent friend. he produces another piece.
“Link Rexx is a pecan praline because they suck. I’d tell you why but it’s a whole promo in of itself. Trust me, this asshole knows what he or she did. Stay out of my way in this match, Link. There will be another time, another place to settle the score between us. Alpha Showdown isn’t it.
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s chocolate on his lips, chin and cheeks now. He produces another piece.
“Renaissance Taylor is a chocolate crisp. Because why not? I like them and Taylor looks like she could go. Guess we’ll find out Monday.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Shin is licorice. He’s the most evil man in the world, apparently, and licorice gives me diarrhea.”
Despite this assertion, he grimly pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Tony Dang is a Bit-O-Honey. I know nothing about this guy except that he follows me on Twitter. He looks old though, and Bit-O-Honey is like my grandma’s favorite candy.”
‘Forrest’ pauses.
“Look these can’t all be gems, ok?”
Shamefaced, he pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Tsukiko is coconut. Definitely not to everyone’s taste, with a tendency to flake. She could dominate this match, or she could put in zero effort and be the first person tossed. I hope it’s the second option, because it’ll break the hearts of millions of weeaboos everywhere if Sunday night rolls around and all we see out of her is a gif of a fox playing with an otter or some shit.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces the last piece.
“Victoria Sabin is a nut cluster. Nobody should be spending that much time and energy obsessing over Goddamn Jason Ryan. Seek help, boo.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. ‘Forrest’s’ face is coated in sticky brown now. He grins, evilly, revealing similarly stained teeth.
“Mah Mama always sed: Alpha Pro Wrasslin’ Penultimate Showdown Match is lakh a box of chockalaytes: you know exactly whut you gonna git.”
“Me: as the last man standing. RRRRRRAAAAARRRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!”
‘Forrest’ flips the empty box off his lap. He jumps up, tears away his suit to reveal his massive and vascular frame underneath, and cycles through his bodybuilding routine, face smeared symbolically with the residue of his upcoming opponents.
“Mah name is Forrest. Forrest Pump(ed).”
He smirks, but only for a moment; resuming the countenance of one who would seem to possess wisdom far beyond his years, intelligence, and overall life experience.
“Mah Mama always sed: Alpha Pro Wrasslin’ Penultimate Showdown Match is lakh a box of chockalaytes: you know exactly whut you gonna git.”
‘Forrest’ opens the box in his lap and picks up a single candy while simultaneously dropping the cornpone accent because he is just not that committed to the bit. His face, too, takes on a more sinister and snarky mien.
“Aaron Blaze is nougat. Soft. Disappointing when you take that first bite. Total waste of space. Dude was the worst member of the Bloodline, and that says something! Aaron, I don’t know when the fuck you came back but you should have stayed away.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Alexander Hayes is a walnut cream. Sounds good on paper but man when you take a closer look at it in the box you recognize it as dogshit. So, ‘Lex: what’s your story? Ned get you off the Rez with promises of championship gold? Not going to happen, college boy. Not with me in that ring.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Adelaide Ainsworth is a Jordan Almond. Sweet and sugary looking but with a hard interior and a hint of cyanide. Boo, you the biggest threat to me in this match. I know it and admit it. Don’t get your panties too wet over that compliment, though. You still losing. You still trash. I’m going to point out what that cuck Scoutmaster was too nice to say: you and Lissie are using Robbie Hope’s death to get over. It’s gross. You’re riding his corpse, and I don’t mean in the sexual sense. I ain’t hypothesizing some kind of necrophilical incestural bisexual menage-e-trois amongst you. Don’t ban me, Ned! No, it’s like, Robbie’s the sled, and the Swallowing’s a two man luge team, and your run so far has been a successful slalom. But you gonna crash and burn soon, Addy. It starts when I make you tap to the Seismic Shock. I got a pretty good idea how it’s gonna end too. So do you, I reckon.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. A little dab of chocolate is left behind in the corner of his mouth. He produces another piece.
“Alex Scott is also nougat. Everything I said about Aaron Blaze applies to him except that Bloodline stuff. You can add a dash of vanilla in there on account of him being a cruiserweight.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Andrew- Jesus, how many “A”s are in this fed?- Barnes is a chocolate covered peanut aka a ‘Goober’. A goody-two shoes with Daddy Issues who dares to think he can step in the ring with the All Natural Disaster. There are stories that Barnsey Boy really isn’t a nice guy, but that’s just newz. You can’t kid a kidder, bro: you’re lily white to the core. And fuck no, I ain’t washing my hands.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He waggles his dirty fingers to the camera before producing another sweet.
“Dave Van Dam is… nowhere to be found on the APW Roster Page. Is he real? Does he even exist? Is he some kind of fictitious candy that only exists in the bipolar brain of Willy Wonka? Don’t matter. He gonna suffer the same fate as the rest.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Elliot Siscoe is also not on the roster page. For God’s sake, Ned! I know interning is an unpaid gig but would it kill you to let your talent know who exactly they gonna be squaring off against? If I lose to either him or the other mystery man I’m fucking gone! Gonna take my talents to Action Wrestling! Jk/jk you’re stuck with me.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s more chocolate shmutz around his lips. He produces another piece.
“Gavin Drake is a peanut butter cup. Not a Reese’s though; the generic, sucky kind. Because Gavin’s as generic as you can get. He ticks all the boxes: second generation wrestler, ‘take no bullshit’ personality, sportsman themed gimmick. Where’d you find these people, Ned?”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Harvey Berlin is a chocolate covered toffee. You know, those skinny candies that always seems to be in the box no matter how many times you’re sure you ate the last one? Why you back, Harvey? You got no shot at winning. You just a body to fill out this Battle Royal. You here for the tiny little pop that’s going to come from the APW hardcore fans who remember your previous run. You an addict, Harvey. You addicted to the spotlight just like I’m addicted to jacking people up, only my habit pays dividends for me. You, all you’re gonna get out of this appearance is heartache. It’s sad man, just sad.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s chocolate on his chin now. He produces another piece.
“Jaice Wilds is maple fudge, literally the worst fucking candy you there is. Wilds, you realize how much I fucking hate you? You talentless goof. You shiftless, spineless, pointless scrub. I’m fucking glad Oblivion didn’t kill you for leaving him high and dry in your title match against the Man Made Gods, because now I get to do it myself. Real talk, Wilds: if there’s a choice between winning and snapping your spine, I’m taking the latter. I’d rather be the one that finally ends your career than be APW World Champion. That tells you how much joy I would get out of snuffing your worthless existence. I want to be the guy who can look at Black and Blue and Flash and all the other legends who couldn’t put you down and laugh because I did what they couldn’t. You know what’s Inevitable, Jaice? Your future vocation as the world’s most annoying paperweight, courtesy of yours truly.”
He doesn’t like doing it, but ‘Forrest’ pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“John Blade is that solid chunk of chocolate that’s right in the dead center of the box. You know the one I’m talking about? The one with the candy company’s brand on it. That’s Blade: he exists. He’s somebody’s favorite wrestler, because just like that hunk of candy he’s always there. You know what exactly you’re going to get out of him. It’s nothing special, but Jesus even an asshole like me’s got to give him his props. John Blade, I salute you.”
‘Forrest’ does indeed salute the chocolate that represents “The Champ”. Then he pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Lex Collins is… back? Dude I thought you died?! Didn’t all you Architects bite it? Fuck, what was that memorial I did you for then? Those were real tears, Lex, and they were all for nothing. So, what brings you back, mah man? You think the new administration gonna to overlook the fact you bolted when life got tough for you? No secret you thought the old regime treated you like shit, even though you and the other crybabies in your clique were handled with kid gloves. They even let you go out on your own terms, instead of on your back like you should have. Yeah, you talented, but nowhere as good as you’d think. Red Riot had you pegged, Lex. You’re peanut brittle: easy to break. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do to you in this match.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Lilianna Rose is a raspberry parfait. Sounds yummy, sounds sexy on account parfait is French and French is the language of love; but really it’s just gross. Lilianna ain’t sexy. You want to see sexy, you look at my buddy Little Bit. Tough. Smart. Funny. Talks the talk and backs it up. Now, she ain’t exactly my type; I prefer the gals with a little fuller balcony if you know what I’m saying.
‘Forrest’ does the universal pantomime for ‘big boobies’ by groping at the air in front of his own impressive chesticle region.
“Plus, you know, Sarah’s a lesbian and married. But my point still stands! She’s dead sexy because she’s good at what she does. Rose ain’t because she isn’t.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. After a slight sniffle in memory of his absent friend. he produces another piece.
“Link Rexx is a pecan praline because they suck. I’d tell you why but it’s a whole promo in of itself. Trust me, this asshole knows what he or she did. Stay out of my way in this match, Link. There will be another time, another place to settle the score between us. Alpha Showdown isn’t it.
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. There’s chocolate on his lips, chin and cheeks now. He produces another piece.
“Renaissance Taylor is a chocolate crisp. Because why not? I like them and Taylor looks like she could go. Guess we’ll find out Monday.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Shin is licorice. He’s the most evil man in the world, apparently, and licorice gives me diarrhea.”
Despite this assertion, he grimly pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Tony Dang is a Bit-O-Honey. I know nothing about this guy except that he follows me on Twitter. He looks old though, and Bit-O-Honey is like my grandma’s favorite candy.”
‘Forrest’ pauses.
“Look these can’t all be gems, ok?”
Shamefaced, he pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces another piece.
“Tsukiko is coconut. Definitely not to everyone’s taste, with a tendency to flake. She could dominate this match, or she could put in zero effort and be the first person tossed. I hope it’s the second option, because it’ll break the hearts of millions of weeaboos everywhere if Sunday night rolls around and all we see out of her is a gif of a fox playing with an otter or some shit.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. He produces the last piece.
“Victoria Sabin is a nut cluster. Nobody should be spending that much time and energy obsessing over Goddamn Jason Ryan. Seek help, boo.”
He pops the candy in his mouth, chews, and swallows. ‘Forrest’s’ face is coated in sticky brown now. He grins, evilly, revealing similarly stained teeth.
“Mah Mama always sed: Alpha Pro Wrasslin’ Penultimate Showdown Match is lakh a box of chockalaytes: you know exactly whut you gonna git.”
“Me: as the last man standing. RRRRRRAAAAARRRRRRRGGGHHHHHH!”
‘Forrest’ flips the empty box off his lap. He jumps up, tears away his suit to reveal his massive and vascular frame underneath, and cycles through his bodybuilding routine, face smeared symbolically with the residue of his upcoming opponents.
