Post by PH RECORDS on Nov 29, 2020 12:20:22 GMT -5
What a terrible event. It was all supposed to set up for the moment that people were dying to see. Proving Grounds ruined all of that. From the moment that the three count took place, and Dickie Watson’s hand was raised, that moment was gone. Colton Saint is now 0-1. The entire world revolted. ISIS spoke out, saying they will not stop their mission until Colton Saint becomes Grand Champion. Donald Trump called Project Honor “a bad thing for America” and proclaimed that he will find a vaccine for the plague that the company has started. King Joffrey rose from the grave and proclaimed that he wanted Dickie Watson’s head. Everybody was in the midst of chaos because of this one unfortunate event.
There is one who took the loss harder than all of them combined.
In a modest neighborhood, one home in particular seems to have the effects of the unexpected tragedy. The lawn was pristine, aside from the young lady in the middle of it. Adorned in her red dress, she lays her head in her hands, sniffling and shaking. It’s Kimberly Chase.
Everything went so wrong at Proving Grounds for her. Her beautiful heart broken, reality hit her so much faster than it did to her boyfriend. Behind her, the porch light illuminates as the door opens up. A young woman emerges on the porch, looking down at the overwhelmed woman.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
Quietly sobbing into her hands, Kimberly can’t muster a response to the woman. Her heart was broken.The woman is apprehensive about going to see Kimberly, but her good hearted nature leads her down the steps of the porch before slowly approaching.
“Miss, what happened to you?”
“He….He…Hit me..”
In a sense of shock, the woman approaches faster, looking towards Kimberly.
“My gosh.. Who hit you, dear?”
Sniffling from the sadness, Kimberly slowly drops her hands, allowing her to stare at the grass.
“My boyfriend. He went crazy! We went home, and he wouldn’t speak to me. I asked him if he wanted a drink, and he suddenly ran to me, and threw me at the wall. I felt like I was flying, and then next time I remember, I’m on the floor. He was throwing bottles at the floor beside me, screaming about how I failed him. Then..”
“Then what? What happened?!”
“He punched me, over and over.”
This is baffling to the woman, who kneels down beside Kimberly. The sense of torture in that poor girl’s heart, it tugged at the strings of the woman.
“I am so sorry, you’re safe here. Let’s get you inside, and we’ll call the police. Come with me, sweetie.”
She’s visibly shaking, slowly getting up with the assistance. On the verge of breaking down in tears, Kimberly speaks up.
“The worst part is...I told him to, we do it all the time.”
Unable to comprehend the thought, the woman is met with a knife leaning against her throat. In the state of shock, the woman looks at Kimberly, only seeing her move her hair back from her face. No tears, no more shaking. Kimberly has a tremendous grin on her face, bursting out into laughter.
“Come on, let’s have some fun.”
Emerging from the shadows is an angered Colton Saint. Frustrated with his defeat, he storms into the home, followed by Kimberly and the woman. The door slams shut behind them. This is going to be a long night for the owners.
Within seconds, the husband storms out into the living room. Seeing Kimberly dominating his wife was bad, but the 6’5” monster staring at him added a new elevated his fear. Of course, with the intelligence of today’s society, the man chooses not to fight the invaders, or even call the police. He grabs his cell phone, and begins video recording all of this.
“WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? YOUR FACE IS ON CAMERA!”
Colton looks over at Kimberly, with a confused look. What in the hell is wrong with people these days?
Not in the mood to waste any more time. Kimberly laughs hysterically at the pathetic attempt to thwart them off.
“Put him in his safe space!!”
A swift headbutt knocks the husband back towards the wall. Colton picks up the dropped cell phone, looking at the video being recorded, before shoving the phone into the husband’s mouth before slamming him face first onto the counter. The man drops to the floor, convulsing while his wife screams. Kimberly continues laughing, deciding to get in on the action, giving the wife an inhuman punch to the back of her head. The wife hits the floor, losing all consciousness.
Kimberly and Colton stare at each other, passing each other, yet thinking the same thing. Colton reaches down to the wife, pulling her wedding ring off of her finger while Kimberly walks over to the husband, ripping his ring off mercilessly. They slowly turn to one another, giving genuine smiles as Colton puts the ring on her finger, she stops him.
“That thing’s cheap.”
Enchanted moment..gone.
To try and rectify the situation, Kimberly attempts to put the ring on Colton’s finger, only for it to get stuck just past his finger nail.
“Of course you’d take the ring off of a guy who has smaller hands than Lillie..”
Throwing the ring at the husband out of sheer disgust, Kimberly grabs Colton’s hand, leading him to the couch. He takes a seat, and is immediately joined by Kimberly on his lap. She lays her head down on him. After moments of silence between the two, Kimberly breaks the silence.
“What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m thinking that maybe this wrestling thing isn’t for us.”
Looking confused, Kimberly opens her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, honestly. I have to go out to the ring, get in there with a bunch of petulant children who have zero chance of leaving me for dead. I go in there, have to follow these stupid rules to make the matches look ‘interesting’. There isn’t a time in reality where you’re going to use a side suplex outside of a match. It’s so pathetic.”
She chuckles to herself, envisioning Colton trying to do an ace crusher during a bar fight, or a pedigree.
“I don’t know hun, the idea of you running up to a guy and doing a sleeperhold. It would be a pretty funny thing to see. Wait three minutes to put someone out, or just punch their lights out. Gee, what ever would you choose?”
The two laugh at the idea of this pro wrestling business.
“Yeah, I’m guessing this Jason Terrance guy wouldn’t know a fight if it smacked him right upside his head. I mean, look at the guy. All that size and power, and he barely makes a dent inside of the ring. It’s just more of the same when you see these guys. They are show ponies. The man has probably never had a single fight outside of one in the ring. It’s a waste of my time.”
“But he’s bald, and big! He must be a competitor! So tough, he looks like a killer!”
The overdramatic, tongue in cheek tone from Kimberly speaks volumes. This is a joke.
“That’s what they want you to think. Project Honor wants you to believe that someone like this guy deserves to be a Grand Champion. He’s a star, they say. What a merciless tough guy. Tough until they get in the ring, and dance around for about 20 minutes. Have you ever seen a fight start with a collar and elbow lock up?”
“Nope..”
“Ever seen someone dive off of a bar and do a shooting star press in a real fight?”
“Nope.”
“All show, no go. That’s why when fans tune in and watch this shit, they see these supposedly grown ass warriors looking like a bunch of ballerinas. Dickie Watson is the worst of them. I was in there, ready to go, and he does all these pretty little moves, little flips and looking at the crowd as if he’s begging for them to like him.”
“But he did pin you, and because of that, I don’t get my belt!”
“Oh no, Little Dickie Watson pinned my shoulders to the mat for three seconds. Stop the presses! A little shit managed to put all of his body weight on my shoulders and I couldn’t get up! Oh, how will I ever survive? I didn’t even break a sweat, unlike that faux athlete. It’s an embarrassment. Every time people gravitate towards these children and stage actors, it completely destroys wrestling. They wonder why they’re making barely enough to afford their one bedroom apartment. They wonder why you and I do the things we do.”
“Get over it, I do it for the money, you do it because you get a sick enjoyment out of it..”
“Look who’s talking..”
“Where are you going with this anyways, do you want to stop?”
“When I was young, I watched a world of Giants and Gods roam the ring, battling for supremacy. Now, it’s playing around on a trampoline for these guys. It’s not what it was, you have a bunch of ‘dreamers’ and bleached-teeth pansies running around in a business that is supposed to invoke aggression and domination. That little bitch right there, he didn’t even bother to raise a hand when I walked into his own home. He pulled his cell phone out! This is what people like Dickie Watson are doing to this world. Painting a picture that nobody fucking wanted. It’s the same garbage that causes a rift in global balance. You need warriors, you need fighters, not dancers. If I walked out of this business tomorrow, nothing would change. If I walked out, sure my head would still be held pretty high, you’d still be making money. The way I see it though, I leave this business, and in three years time, the business would be so different.
Imagine this, two people go to the ring. The bell rings, and both of them pull out their phones, go right to the video recording, and yell at each other.
‘You started this by hitting my Tesla!’
‘No, yours was in my way!’
‘You’re racist!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘You wouldn’t move your car!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘Just get out of the ring and walk away!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘Quit stealing my soymilk!’
‘That was my soymilk!’
‘That’s it, you need to go!’
‘Get me your manager!’
‘He’s your manager too!’
Then the fucking boss comes out to the ring, a crowd of three now, which is bigger than the attendance of the show. He gets in there, just stands there, reading off some rhetoric about soymilk and the fucking rules.
‘I believe if we tone down our voices and speak calmly, we can fix this problem without any punches being thrown. We don’t want that here. We want peace and harmony! Here, both of you, you’re Grand Champions now, you get to share! I don’t have enough participation medals to hand out, but rest assured, everyone in that locker room are super duper champions as well!’
A business catering the Kens and Karens of the world. Just what we need.”
Kimberly can’t get a word out, laughing hysterically at the entire rendition of what the business is becoming. The sad part is this is entirely possible with the people who are leading the way. As much as one can sneer and complain that he’s wrong, Colton is not wrong here. It could very well happen.
“You really thought that one out, didn’t you?”
“No, I just thought about what people are becoming. Nobody wants confrontation anymore, Dickie Watson has a cute little match with me, doing his little dance off. Do you think for a second that I’d be allowed under Project Honor’s rules to knee the fucker in the ribs and rip his face apart? Fuck no, they’d be sued out the ass. They put the magical rules in where even the shittest and least athletic ones can have their moment to shine. We may as well call this Make A Wish Wrestling.”
“And the other one?”
“MYOJIN.”
“He’s on your team..for now.”
“He isn’t on my side, Kimberly. He’s just another wanting to jump on the back of a fighter, so he can do a couple cute little flips and join the dance contest. The one thing I will say about MYOJIN though, he’s actually pretty tough underneath that frilly lilly exterior. I’ve seen him in another company, throwing some pretty hard punches and kicks. I respect that. Not the stereotypical dancer, but he still dances.”
“I’ll talk to him!”
“...Why? Don’t catch any diseases from him.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
“Just look at him! I’m going to have to wear surgical gloves in that ring if he’s there. He looks like he’s riddled with diseases.”
“Oh, I thought you meant other diseases.”
“Where do you think he got them from? Sexual deviants these days!”
“He can be useful to us. Would it really be so bad to have a ‘dancer’ on your team so he can dance with the others while you beat the ever loving shit out of them? Just think about it.”
It’s pretty interesting, the novel concept of speaking about moral fiber while the guy uses a beaten homeowner as a footstool. Colton glances at the husband, who is beginning to stir, before collapsing.
“OOOH I have an idea! I always wanted to try this!”
Kimberly jumps off of Colton’s lap, grabbing the wife’s cell phone. Shit, the phone is locked.
“Move your feet, asshole!”
Shoving Colton’s feet off of the wife, Kimberly grabs the wife by the hair. She raises the wife’s head up to unlock the phone through facial recognition.
“Awe, she has a picture of the cutest dog on here!”
“They don’t have a dog, do they? Frauds..”
Finally, the phone is unlocked. Kimberly looks at Colton with a grin on her face while calling the husband’s cell phone, under the name ‘Thunder Dumpling’? Fucking weird. Kimberly waits impatiently for the other phone to start ringing.
“Hello?”
“Sorry love! Wrong number!”
She immediately hangs up the phone.
“YOU WHORE!”
Skimming through the contact list, she finds the Husband’s name, listed under...Husband?
“Oh I hope he divorces you for that shit.”
After a moment of hesitation, teasing the excitement, Kimberly pushes the call button. After a few seconds, the phone starts ringing from the inside of the husband’s mouth. He slowly stirs again, trying to raise his arms and move the rest of his body. Not much is happening, but it makes for a hell of a show! Kimberly jumps back onto Colton’s lap, as the two laugh at the misfortune of the Husband. The couple definitely should have invested in a better home security system.
The Dancers and the Dreamers shall perish.
There is one who took the loss harder than all of them combined.
In a modest neighborhood, one home in particular seems to have the effects of the unexpected tragedy. The lawn was pristine, aside from the young lady in the middle of it. Adorned in her red dress, she lays her head in her hands, sniffling and shaking. It’s Kimberly Chase.
Everything went so wrong at Proving Grounds for her. Her beautiful heart broken, reality hit her so much faster than it did to her boyfriend. Behind her, the porch light illuminates as the door opens up. A young woman emerges on the porch, looking down at the overwhelmed woman.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
Quietly sobbing into her hands, Kimberly can’t muster a response to the woman. Her heart was broken.The woman is apprehensive about going to see Kimberly, but her good hearted nature leads her down the steps of the porch before slowly approaching.
“Miss, what happened to you?”
“He….He…Hit me..”
In a sense of shock, the woman approaches faster, looking towards Kimberly.
“My gosh.. Who hit you, dear?”
Sniffling from the sadness, Kimberly slowly drops her hands, allowing her to stare at the grass.
“My boyfriend. He went crazy! We went home, and he wouldn’t speak to me. I asked him if he wanted a drink, and he suddenly ran to me, and threw me at the wall. I felt like I was flying, and then next time I remember, I’m on the floor. He was throwing bottles at the floor beside me, screaming about how I failed him. Then..”
“Then what? What happened?!”
“He punched me, over and over.”
This is baffling to the woman, who kneels down beside Kimberly. The sense of torture in that poor girl’s heart, it tugged at the strings of the woman.
“I am so sorry, you’re safe here. Let’s get you inside, and we’ll call the police. Come with me, sweetie.”
She’s visibly shaking, slowly getting up with the assistance. On the verge of breaking down in tears, Kimberly speaks up.
“The worst part is...I told him to, we do it all the time.”
Unable to comprehend the thought, the woman is met with a knife leaning against her throat. In the state of shock, the woman looks at Kimberly, only seeing her move her hair back from her face. No tears, no more shaking. Kimberly has a tremendous grin on her face, bursting out into laughter.
“Come on, let’s have some fun.”
Emerging from the shadows is an angered Colton Saint. Frustrated with his defeat, he storms into the home, followed by Kimberly and the woman. The door slams shut behind them. This is going to be a long night for the owners.
Within seconds, the husband storms out into the living room. Seeing Kimberly dominating his wife was bad, but the 6’5” monster staring at him added a new elevated his fear. Of course, with the intelligence of today’s society, the man chooses not to fight the invaders, or even call the police. He grabs his cell phone, and begins video recording all of this.
“WHO ARE YOU? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? YOUR FACE IS ON CAMERA!”
Colton looks over at Kimberly, with a confused look. What in the hell is wrong with people these days?
Not in the mood to waste any more time. Kimberly laughs hysterically at the pathetic attempt to thwart them off.
“Put him in his safe space!!”
A swift headbutt knocks the husband back towards the wall. Colton picks up the dropped cell phone, looking at the video being recorded, before shoving the phone into the husband’s mouth before slamming him face first onto the counter. The man drops to the floor, convulsing while his wife screams. Kimberly continues laughing, deciding to get in on the action, giving the wife an inhuman punch to the back of her head. The wife hits the floor, losing all consciousness.
Kimberly and Colton stare at each other, passing each other, yet thinking the same thing. Colton reaches down to the wife, pulling her wedding ring off of her finger while Kimberly walks over to the husband, ripping his ring off mercilessly. They slowly turn to one another, giving genuine smiles as Colton puts the ring on her finger, she stops him.
“That thing’s cheap.”
Enchanted moment..gone.
To try and rectify the situation, Kimberly attempts to put the ring on Colton’s finger, only for it to get stuck just past his finger nail.
“Of course you’d take the ring off of a guy who has smaller hands than Lillie..”
Throwing the ring at the husband out of sheer disgust, Kimberly grabs Colton’s hand, leading him to the couch. He takes a seat, and is immediately joined by Kimberly on his lap. She lays her head down on him. After moments of silence between the two, Kimberly breaks the silence.
“What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m thinking that maybe this wrestling thing isn’t for us.”
Looking confused, Kimberly opens her eyes.
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it, honestly. I have to go out to the ring, get in there with a bunch of petulant children who have zero chance of leaving me for dead. I go in there, have to follow these stupid rules to make the matches look ‘interesting’. There isn’t a time in reality where you’re going to use a side suplex outside of a match. It’s so pathetic.”
She chuckles to herself, envisioning Colton trying to do an ace crusher during a bar fight, or a pedigree.
“I don’t know hun, the idea of you running up to a guy and doing a sleeperhold. It would be a pretty funny thing to see. Wait three minutes to put someone out, or just punch their lights out. Gee, what ever would you choose?”
The two laugh at the idea of this pro wrestling business.
“Yeah, I’m guessing this Jason Terrance guy wouldn’t know a fight if it smacked him right upside his head. I mean, look at the guy. All that size and power, and he barely makes a dent inside of the ring. It’s just more of the same when you see these guys. They are show ponies. The man has probably never had a single fight outside of one in the ring. It’s a waste of my time.”
“But he’s bald, and big! He must be a competitor! So tough, he looks like a killer!”
The overdramatic, tongue in cheek tone from Kimberly speaks volumes. This is a joke.
“That’s what they want you to think. Project Honor wants you to believe that someone like this guy deserves to be a Grand Champion. He’s a star, they say. What a merciless tough guy. Tough until they get in the ring, and dance around for about 20 minutes. Have you ever seen a fight start with a collar and elbow lock up?”
“Nope..”
“Ever seen someone dive off of a bar and do a shooting star press in a real fight?”
“Nope.”
“All show, no go. That’s why when fans tune in and watch this shit, they see these supposedly grown ass warriors looking like a bunch of ballerinas. Dickie Watson is the worst of them. I was in there, ready to go, and he does all these pretty little moves, little flips and looking at the crowd as if he’s begging for them to like him.”
“But he did pin you, and because of that, I don’t get my belt!”
“Oh no, Little Dickie Watson pinned my shoulders to the mat for three seconds. Stop the presses! A little shit managed to put all of his body weight on my shoulders and I couldn’t get up! Oh, how will I ever survive? I didn’t even break a sweat, unlike that faux athlete. It’s an embarrassment. Every time people gravitate towards these children and stage actors, it completely destroys wrestling. They wonder why they’re making barely enough to afford their one bedroom apartment. They wonder why you and I do the things we do.”
“Get over it, I do it for the money, you do it because you get a sick enjoyment out of it..”
“Look who’s talking..”
“Where are you going with this anyways, do you want to stop?”
“When I was young, I watched a world of Giants and Gods roam the ring, battling for supremacy. Now, it’s playing around on a trampoline for these guys. It’s not what it was, you have a bunch of ‘dreamers’ and bleached-teeth pansies running around in a business that is supposed to invoke aggression and domination. That little bitch right there, he didn’t even bother to raise a hand when I walked into his own home. He pulled his cell phone out! This is what people like Dickie Watson are doing to this world. Painting a picture that nobody fucking wanted. It’s the same garbage that causes a rift in global balance. You need warriors, you need fighters, not dancers. If I walked out of this business tomorrow, nothing would change. If I walked out, sure my head would still be held pretty high, you’d still be making money. The way I see it though, I leave this business, and in three years time, the business would be so different.
Imagine this, two people go to the ring. The bell rings, and both of them pull out their phones, go right to the video recording, and yell at each other.
‘You started this by hitting my Tesla!’
‘No, yours was in my way!’
‘You’re racist!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘You wouldn’t move your car!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘Just get out of the ring and walk away!’
‘How am I racist!?’
‘Quit stealing my soymilk!’
‘That was my soymilk!’
‘That’s it, you need to go!’
‘Get me your manager!’
‘He’s your manager too!’
Then the fucking boss comes out to the ring, a crowd of three now, which is bigger than the attendance of the show. He gets in there, just stands there, reading off some rhetoric about soymilk and the fucking rules.
‘I believe if we tone down our voices and speak calmly, we can fix this problem without any punches being thrown. We don’t want that here. We want peace and harmony! Here, both of you, you’re Grand Champions now, you get to share! I don’t have enough participation medals to hand out, but rest assured, everyone in that locker room are super duper champions as well!’
A business catering the Kens and Karens of the world. Just what we need.”
Kimberly can’t get a word out, laughing hysterically at the entire rendition of what the business is becoming. The sad part is this is entirely possible with the people who are leading the way. As much as one can sneer and complain that he’s wrong, Colton is not wrong here. It could very well happen.
“You really thought that one out, didn’t you?”
“No, I just thought about what people are becoming. Nobody wants confrontation anymore, Dickie Watson has a cute little match with me, doing his little dance off. Do you think for a second that I’d be allowed under Project Honor’s rules to knee the fucker in the ribs and rip his face apart? Fuck no, they’d be sued out the ass. They put the magical rules in where even the shittest and least athletic ones can have their moment to shine. We may as well call this Make A Wish Wrestling.”
“And the other one?”
“MYOJIN.”
“He’s on your team..for now.”
“He isn’t on my side, Kimberly. He’s just another wanting to jump on the back of a fighter, so he can do a couple cute little flips and join the dance contest. The one thing I will say about MYOJIN though, he’s actually pretty tough underneath that frilly lilly exterior. I’ve seen him in another company, throwing some pretty hard punches and kicks. I respect that. Not the stereotypical dancer, but he still dances.”
“I’ll talk to him!”
“...Why? Don’t catch any diseases from him.”
“EXCUSE ME?”
“Just look at him! I’m going to have to wear surgical gloves in that ring if he’s there. He looks like he’s riddled with diseases.”
“Oh, I thought you meant other diseases.”
“Where do you think he got them from? Sexual deviants these days!”
“He can be useful to us. Would it really be so bad to have a ‘dancer’ on your team so he can dance with the others while you beat the ever loving shit out of them? Just think about it.”
It’s pretty interesting, the novel concept of speaking about moral fiber while the guy uses a beaten homeowner as a footstool. Colton glances at the husband, who is beginning to stir, before collapsing.
“OOOH I have an idea! I always wanted to try this!”
Kimberly jumps off of Colton’s lap, grabbing the wife’s cell phone. Shit, the phone is locked.
“Move your feet, asshole!”
Shoving Colton’s feet off of the wife, Kimberly grabs the wife by the hair. She raises the wife’s head up to unlock the phone through facial recognition.
“Awe, she has a picture of the cutest dog on here!”
“They don’t have a dog, do they? Frauds..”
Finally, the phone is unlocked. Kimberly looks at Colton with a grin on her face while calling the husband’s cell phone, under the name ‘Thunder Dumpling’? Fucking weird. Kimberly waits impatiently for the other phone to start ringing.
“Hello?”
“Sorry love! Wrong number!”
She immediately hangs up the phone.
“YOU WHORE!”
Skimming through the contact list, she finds the Husband’s name, listed under...Husband?
“Oh I hope he divorces you for that shit.”
After a moment of hesitation, teasing the excitement, Kimberly pushes the call button. After a few seconds, the phone starts ringing from the inside of the husband’s mouth. He slowly stirs again, trying to raise his arms and move the rest of his body. Not much is happening, but it makes for a hell of a show! Kimberly jumps back onto Colton’s lap, as the two laugh at the misfortune of the Husband. The couple definitely should have invested in a better home security system.
The Dancers and the Dreamers shall perish.