Post by ZMAC on Oct 27, 2019 20:16:19 GMT -5
Scaffold (Over a Shark Tank)
Winner receives a future North American Title shot
Zombie McMorris vs Voshon Jackson
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Chapter I: Call Him Buddy.
A 05 green Civic streams by on the new pavement. Illuminated by street lights with the only indication of its arrival being the crushing of leaves under its weight. Its was quiet as a whisper. A well tuned machine. The low cut view of the tires give way as the car drives past and we see a shadow in the back window as the car passes a sign that reads:
Welcome to Haddonfield.
A few minutes down that empty road is Barrington House, an old colonial style home that has been renovated into a bed and breakfast. The 05 Civic glides effortlessly into the parking lot that's awfully full and turns off its lights. A well dressed man gets out of the car with a suitcase in hand. Follow along with his feet as he takes pronounced steps up the wooden porch stairs and into the house. Upon entering the livingroom it is clear that some of the towns leaders have gathered. They all stop talking amongst themselves and look blankly at the man until one of them speaks up.
“Mr. Greek, very good of you to come.”
“Well I’m glad to be here, if’n I could be glad, given the circumstances.”
“Indeed, you’ll have to return under more welcoming conditions.”
“In my family, a welcome is the same in all conditions.”
“ And what family is that, Mr. Greek?”
“Please. Call me Buddy.”
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Chapter II: A Longing of Flowers
I know what you’re all thinking, ‘ Ruby, how could you even love a man like Zombie McMorris, let alone miss him?’
Its a longing for Spring; a longing of flowers. A better half of my worst natures, so to speak. He completes me by un-completing me. By being the thing that I cant. I suspect that's why his fans love him too and why so many despise him. He’s loud, crude, rough and grouchy but he is loyal with kind eyes. Its funny too, because ZMAC hates flowers. You would think a man forever undying would have a greater appreciation for the season of rebirth but that's just one of the quirks that's makes him, him and makes me love him that much more.
Yes, I miss him. No, I don’t think that Cyborg was him. I know him. I can see through him. See his true colors. That wasnt him.
We are so far away.
But there is no such thing as distance between hearts.
Just a longing of flowers.
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Chapter III: Passover
The more familiar 05 Blue Honda Accord rumbles and burps. It shimmy and shakes with all the razzle dazzle as the sonf of a plumber livin off them hard times. The tail pipe bleeds a haze as the head lights struggle and dim. Inside, the Shape is wide eyed, nearly bugged out of his skull. He keeps one eye on the road and one eye on his Nightmare Drink ( that's Reign Energy drink for the uninitiated ) the sleeker, sexier cousin to Nightmare Fuel. Just as deadly and just as potent.
The 05 Accord pulls into the parking lot of Barrington House.
Back inside Barrington house, the members of the Home Owners Associate sit around and continue to plot their coup.
“ As we sit around, plotting our coup.” States one member, “ Buddy Roman is on his way. I can feel it.”
“Of course.” Confirms Buddy Greek.“ He’s already here.
“How do you know?” Asks another.
“Because” Greek says as-matter-a-factly, By nature, us Buddies are never alone.
“We have to stop him.”
“Yah”
“Yah”
“Yah, fuck that guy!”
The crowd starts to get unruly in their passion. But Buddy Greek talks them down from the ledge and eases their mind.
“People, good people what I have in my brief case will help. Trust me, it’ll help.” Buddy Greek pats his breif case
“Well. what is it?” The crowd asks as Buddy Greek proudly displays it for all to see as he puts it up on a table and opens it to reveal a stained glass bottle filled with a mysterious red liquid.
“Go get a rag and we’ll smear this over the top of the front door. He wont be able to come in.” The townsfolk rush to get rags, napkins, placemats and anything they could use to smear the liquid over the door. “No!” Buddy Greek halts them. “ It has to be me.” Buddy Greek tips over the bottle and soaks a rag. He goes over to the front door and starts blot the liquid as the shape opens the door but is blocked by a force field. He tries to walk through again and again he is blocked.
The Shape looks at Buddy Greek and mocks him with a contorted face.
“Ha. Ha. very funny. Its like Uncle Jonahs fifteenth wedding anniversary all over again. “
“Sorry Buddy but you’re not welcome here.”
“Greek, its a bed and breakfast, us Jews are always welcome here.”
“Not Today you arnt.”
“Listen, Greek -” The Shape leans up against the wall and tries to charm his way in. “ I dont know if you know this but I’m a very important person to these people. They look up to me as their leader. I called a very special meeting of the Home Owners Association, to which you are very much NOT a member and according to the bi-laws of the charter, non-members are not allowed to be present at HOA meetings. I mean, if I could, you know that I would so totally bend the rules for you but my hands, they are tied. Now if you could please go get a mop, or a busket- hell - use your tongue for all I care but could you please clean that schmutz off the door so I can come in?”
“Sorry, Buddy but you do not have power over this community anymore.”
“What, do you think you’re better than me, huh? You think because you have that vile in your briefcase that you can just do whatever you want? I mean, what am I supposed to do, pull a promo on the outside, looking in? That's probably not even real rams blood, isnt it? Yah -” The Shape shakes his jowels. “ Yah, its not. You’re cheap, Buddy Greek. You’re cheap like the rest of them and it will cost you dearly.”
“I highly doubt that, Buddy.”
“You’re right, you’re right -” The shape throws his hands up in frustration. “You called my bluff and you were right to. You win. I’ll just, I’ll just - go. Go without a fight. I can admit when I’ve been bested and you sir - you - got me. “
Buddy smiles warmly as a tear rolls down his cheek and he heads back to his car. Greek turns and smiles as the HOA members cheer and rejoice but that quickly fades as the lights flicker and the house rumbles but then everything is fine. In the back of the living room lays Buddy Roman, displayed like one of those french girls sipping on a fine red white, aka one of them nightmare gimmicks. He sips an exaggerated sip and smacks his lips together before sitting up.
“ Do you know where you went wrong, where you really, really went wrong - Is that real tomato ketchup, Buddy? Nothing but best, right? Until you need the best, right? Until its time to put schmekles on the line and yet you fold like every Jew that's comes before you. Just as APW has put :
No..
No…
No..
Voshon Jackson?
I.D.K, Greek. I just don’t know. See, that's the thing. Everybody wants to do everything half assed and yet they expect full time results. Now, you might be telling me and my client to go look in a mirror but oddly enough, my reflection just doesnt show up and when you fight my client, Zombie McMorris, you NEED to show up.
Because the world changes when the SHAPE comes around. When the Immortal Coked Up Madman, the Evil Incarnate shows up. I shown up here to this Tiny little hamlet and I improved things. I made it all better. I took over where Jerry Valdiva left off and this is how all of you want to show your gratitude? All the hard work. All the sacrifice. All the times that I was an ear and a shoulder for you all to cry on and yet no one nude slide into my proverbial DMs. I see no thank you cards, no cakes, no fruit snake baskets ( that's a fruit basket filled with fruit snakes because Ya’ll never seem to get that fuckin joke )
And yet I keep going.
Not yet won a championship
And yet I keep going.
Underwear modeling. Late night conversations
Sharon, I - I wept with you when your husband died.
Katie, I took care of you when your son went into a coma.
Bill -> nobody likes you but I like you. I adore you, my son. But this, Buddy Greek, Cousin, the Able to my Cain. Big breasted Harpie to my Abraham.
You Tuna on Pumpernickel eating bastard. You tried to do me dirty but instead it is I that will do you.
I play dirty. I play rough. I play in the mud, the blood and the beer.
I will not kink shame you, dear cousin because you shame yourself already by selling them snake oil. You sold them false hope and you above all else should know that I thrive on false hope, that my client is a SPOILER.
And spoil we shall do.
You tried, my dear cousin. You fought hard. But now you, like Jackson are both going to get bent over and fucked until you pass out from the pain
Or the pleasure.
However, dear cousin, I’ll forgive you. We are family after all and familes fight. Families also forgive and being that I see you all as my family - yes, I’ll even forgive you as well.
However, I cannot forgive Jackson. Jackson, he who I should because he was bamboozled. Hoodwinked and possibly even lied to. He was told that he’d be given a North American Championship opportunity.
Dark-Mercia? Z-Merica? These here Hawt American Darkness?
My client who moonlights as a great American ( LOLOLOLL TRRUUTH )
hero when he’s not moonlighting as a Horrorkore Icon
Or a monolith of the memes.
Or a breaker of womens pelvis ( now that really did happen. Ask me how )
Or the most charismatic man in all of wrestling. Him. That guy.
The guy who with Mikey Extreme decided on a whim to put on red white and blue gear, go out there and BE the KORE existence of the country
But -> but Voshon Jackson is going to overcome that?
Spartan better take notes cuz Obama got Bin Ladin.
Trump got ISIS
And now MY client is going to get Spartan.
But first, he’ll get Jackson.
First, Jackson, he’ll come for you and its the loudest thing he does. Its quite remarkable how he goes about it. You thinking that you’ll win- talking all the none sense
Completely forgetting that your fighting Zombie McMorris in a shark tank match
Because you’re preoccupied with presenting a predatory demeanor.
Arthur Pleasent was busy with that too. He tried too hard.
You try too hard. You’ll see that this is one fight that your brute strength just cant win. This is a more visceral, psychological type of match. One that you won’t make it out of.
ZMAC changes lives. Permanent impacts.
DEEP impacts
You’ll see but by the time you do, it’ll be too late.
