Post by Big Bad Bodacious on Aug 18, 2019 20:16:50 GMT -5
The were fowl and the sea ran high, the USS Gnarly Mother Fucker was anchored on the cusp of international waters outside of the motherland, America. The winds carried the tell tale markings of The Whale. “So what's been happening in Guanta- Hey! You can’t be in here!” The Whale was standing in the cramped doorway, he never did like boats. The men all stood aggressively, but The Whale pulled his pistol and fired a round in ceiling, the men sat back down. “Well, what do you want?” one trembled. The Whale pulled a VHS tape out of his cream orange and green tracksuit, tossing it on the coffee table and gazing judgingly through his leather Gucci balaclava. He grumbles at them, “giocare.”
One of the men moves, drawing the attention of the gun in tons-of-funs hand. He points it at the VHS tape on the table and back at the man who moved forward, “Sbrigati e suona il maledetto nastro! Marone!” The man picks up the pace and runs the tape to tech room, placing it in a VHS player. He turns to his desk, a wall of labeled keys and switches, knobs and buttons, levers and slides, all connected through neatly labeled, zip tied cables leading to a triple set of monitors. He gets to work turning knobs and switches, lining up antenas just right and monitoring them so they stay that way. The on air sign turns green and he gives a thumbs up to The Whale.
The camera feed cuts to black for a moment before cutting to large concrete warehouse. Light shining down from holes in the ceiling revealing the dust floating through the stale air. A black leather coach sits in the center of the screen, torn and dusty, stained with god knows what. The screen starts to flicker and become corrupted, as static and screen tear rip the shot apart and as quick as it came, it disappeared. Bodacious leaned in the middle of the hot leather coach, with his arms spread wide across the back, his legs spread wide across its front. He wore no shirt revealing his scar from the hot iron and its two little horns tattooed near its point.
Bodacious: Lucy Sixxx, The Junior Heavyweight. A Sacred Mighty has finally decided to come down to the bullpen where The Bull doth roam, and about fucking time I must say oh Mighty, Sacred is she. The shiny rays of the Golden God Bull shine upon this night Lucy and so it is decreed we must shed blood in The Ring of Honor, The Squared Circle, THE Holy Land of the 1-v-1, and so blood shall fall on the floor tonight for He who is on highest, The Golden Bull of Israel. The Bull demands more than blood however, for to be like He who is on highest, Bodacious must shine like He who is on highest! Bodacious must shine with the combined light of all the belts the sacred mighty hold! The Alpha World Champ Masterking Jubei, The North American Champ Cock Sock, The Hardcore Champ Leonidas, The Alpha Tag Team Champs The Conadian Coalition, and finally The Jr. Heavyweight Champ, Lucy Fucking Sixxx. The old gods shall fall to the messenger of The Golden Bull, and their shine shall be added to His light, a light of strength and brotherhood, to illuminatus the path ahead for the heard. What I say now, I mean with primo levels of respect.
Bodacious explodes from the grimy couch, kick-punching the air as he rises, and lands on the wobbly coffee table in front of him. He points a finger gun at the screen and takes a heavy long gulp of peppermint schnapps.
Bodacious: LUCY SIXX AIN’T GOT FUCK ON THE BULL IN THE RING. What the fuck is that sound bulls and babes? It's the dump fucking cunt alert sound and it’s ringing so goddamn loud the God Bull himself is like, “Fuck will someone shut this bitch off?” Don’t worry God Bull, because Bodacious is gonna lay the butt fucking good hurt on I-Hate-Lucy, this monday night! Luce, your dreams of champion will lay fucking broken, shattered, spit and trampled upon in the sacred ring, why? Because you ain’t good enough, you ain’t righteous enough, and you ain’t got the horns long enough to lead this heard with The Sacred Mighty. You just some dumb bitch who thinks she can what she wants, but you ain’t no fucking unstoppable force! You ain’t shit, but you’re still on the fast track to the immovable object, the fucking mountian, the big bad wall of beef, and its gonna be one fist fucker of crash.
Bodacious leaps off the coffee table and onto the floor and slav squats in front of the camera before taking another deep gulp of hoboflask peppermint schnapps.
.
Bodacious: You see slut, I’m not just here to wreak desolation upon the weak and feeble that are strangling the heard that is APW. I am her to bring it salvation, brotherhood. To lead it into a shiny new age, so shiny it just might catch just a sliver of the God Bulls golden light. The path I walk is a tight one if, if I do say so myself, but it is one without mercy for the weakness that is you. There shall be no mercy for the likes of you who think only about themselves, only about what the gold can do for you and never about what you can do for the gold. Face me in the ring then, Bodacious shall smite thee with these two swolly swords by my side!
Bodacious flexes his arms hard, and kisses his left bicep.
Bodacious: Sodom!
He kisses his right bicep.
Bodacious: And Gomorrah!
Bodacious pounds the last half of his schnapps and tosses the plastic bottle behind him. He belches uncomfortably and wobbles while he stands.
Bodacious: Ugh fuck. Fuckin uhh fuckin I told me not to buy schnapps but do I fuckin listen? No!~ fuckin know why? Fuckin Cuz i’m the fuckin bull. I’m Fucking Bodacious and what? What the fuck even are you compared to me? Think you're Tuff Hene- Hene Hedaman? Fuckin nah. Nah, NOt eben close. Think this the fuck is? Fuckin 1993? Fuckin 1993 the finals? Fuckin nah slut. Fuckin nah, its 1995 and you ain’t gettin awae this time. You can’t you can’t fuckin.. Fuckin.. Fuck…
Bodacious staggers forwards towards the camera until he collapses on top of it and ending the feed there. It cuts back to the room, where there is no sign of life. The feed was eventually lost and after 2 weeks the ship was deemed lost as sea, her crew were never seen or heard from again.
One of the men moves, drawing the attention of the gun in tons-of-funs hand. He points it at the VHS tape on the table and back at the man who moved forward, “Sbrigati e suona il maledetto nastro! Marone!” The man picks up the pace and runs the tape to tech room, placing it in a VHS player. He turns to his desk, a wall of labeled keys and switches, knobs and buttons, levers and slides, all connected through neatly labeled, zip tied cables leading to a triple set of monitors. He gets to work turning knobs and switches, lining up antenas just right and monitoring them so they stay that way. The on air sign turns green and he gives a thumbs up to The Whale.
The camera feed cuts to black for a moment before cutting to large concrete warehouse. Light shining down from holes in the ceiling revealing the dust floating through the stale air. A black leather coach sits in the center of the screen, torn and dusty, stained with god knows what. The screen starts to flicker and become corrupted, as static and screen tear rip the shot apart and as quick as it came, it disappeared. Bodacious leaned in the middle of the hot leather coach, with his arms spread wide across the back, his legs spread wide across its front. He wore no shirt revealing his scar from the hot iron and its two little horns tattooed near its point.
Bodacious: Lucy Sixxx, The Junior Heavyweight. A Sacred Mighty has finally decided to come down to the bullpen where The Bull doth roam, and about fucking time I must say oh Mighty, Sacred is she. The shiny rays of the Golden God Bull shine upon this night Lucy and so it is decreed we must shed blood in The Ring of Honor, The Squared Circle, THE Holy Land of the 1-v-1, and so blood shall fall on the floor tonight for He who is on highest, The Golden Bull of Israel. The Bull demands more than blood however, for to be like He who is on highest, Bodacious must shine like He who is on highest! Bodacious must shine with the combined light of all the belts the sacred mighty hold! The Alpha World Champ Masterking Jubei, The North American Champ Cock Sock, The Hardcore Champ Leonidas, The Alpha Tag Team Champs The Conadian Coalition, and finally The Jr. Heavyweight Champ, Lucy Fucking Sixxx. The old gods shall fall to the messenger of The Golden Bull, and their shine shall be added to His light, a light of strength and brotherhood, to illuminatus the path ahead for the heard. What I say now, I mean with primo levels of respect.
Bodacious explodes from the grimy couch, kick-punching the air as he rises, and lands on the wobbly coffee table in front of him. He points a finger gun at the screen and takes a heavy long gulp of peppermint schnapps.
Bodacious: LUCY SIXX AIN’T GOT FUCK ON THE BULL IN THE RING. What the fuck is that sound bulls and babes? It's the dump fucking cunt alert sound and it’s ringing so goddamn loud the God Bull himself is like, “Fuck will someone shut this bitch off?” Don’t worry God Bull, because Bodacious is gonna lay the butt fucking good hurt on I-Hate-Lucy, this monday night! Luce, your dreams of champion will lay fucking broken, shattered, spit and trampled upon in the sacred ring, why? Because you ain’t good enough, you ain’t righteous enough, and you ain’t got the horns long enough to lead this heard with The Sacred Mighty. You just some dumb bitch who thinks she can what she wants, but you ain’t no fucking unstoppable force! You ain’t shit, but you’re still on the fast track to the immovable object, the fucking mountian, the big bad wall of beef, and its gonna be one fist fucker of crash.
Bodacious leaps off the coffee table and onto the floor and slav squats in front of the camera before taking another deep gulp of hoboflask peppermint schnapps.
.
Bodacious: You see slut, I’m not just here to wreak desolation upon the weak and feeble that are strangling the heard that is APW. I am her to bring it salvation, brotherhood. To lead it into a shiny new age, so shiny it just might catch just a sliver of the God Bulls golden light. The path I walk is a tight one if, if I do say so myself, but it is one without mercy for the weakness that is you. There shall be no mercy for the likes of you who think only about themselves, only about what the gold can do for you and never about what you can do for the gold. Face me in the ring then, Bodacious shall smite thee with these two swolly swords by my side!
Bodacious flexes his arms hard, and kisses his left bicep.
Bodacious: Sodom!
He kisses his right bicep.
Bodacious: And Gomorrah!
Bodacious pounds the last half of his schnapps and tosses the plastic bottle behind him. He belches uncomfortably and wobbles while he stands.
Bodacious: Ugh fuck. Fuckin uhh fuckin I told me not to buy schnapps but do I fuckin listen? No!~ fuckin know why? Fuckin Cuz i’m the fuckin bull. I’m Fucking Bodacious and what? What the fuck even are you compared to me? Think you're Tuff Hene- Hene Hedaman? Fuckin nah. Nah, NOt eben close. Think this the fuck is? Fuckin 1993? Fuckin 1993 the finals? Fuckin nah slut. Fuckin nah, its 1995 and you ain’t gettin awae this time. You can’t you can’t fuckin.. Fuckin.. Fuck…
Bodacious staggers forwards towards the camera until he collapses on top of it and ending the feed there. It cuts back to the room, where there is no sign of life. The feed was eventually lost and after 2 weeks the ship was deemed lost as sea, her crew were never seen or heard from again.
