Post by Giovanni on Apr 28, 2022 16:17:26 GMT -5
As yet another cork popped open, the mumbling and murmuring of what was a small legion of the well off and affluent putting their glasses together in a toast to old money and family trees that were a circle.
After months of messing around in the dregs, it was time for Giovanni to show himself to the rest of the world again, at least, to the world that truly mattered. The ones that appreciated true quality, whether it was art, expensive cars, bored ape NFT’s, or in this case the very best wines that were flown in from all across the world.
Wearing a near unpresidential tan suit, Giovanni had made sure to come across as his best self. Away from the nasty sweathog mouthbreathers that roamed around wrestling arena’s having the gall of asking someone like him for an autograph, no, he was now amongst the people who cares for the indelible qualities that couldn’t be quantified.
So I told the man, “Disputed Territory”, the only thing that is disputed is the atrocity that is your wardrobe!
The joke would be followed by the cackle of old crones simply laughing along because they were too dense to understand the true meaning behind it. But Giovanni smiled, as Calliope hung on his arm wearing a dress that might’ve caused multiple heart attacks when she had arrived onto the lawn of the country club.
The trophy wives would be indebted to Calliope for pushing the clock forward a few years for their millionaire inheritances.
My dear Giovanni, you have such a delectable way with words. It’s truly a breath of fresh air that you come to visit us yet again, I do hope that you’ll grace our mansion with a few more masterpieces in due time. a sauced up old crone would tell him.
The other crones, all with more expensive jewelry than the next, would squint their eyes in jealousy, their own houses needing the same amount of artistic perfection as the first.
Giovanni would merely smile as he took a sip from a glass of water. I would dearly love to enlighten all your lives with my art, but sadly the mind of an artiste is a fragile one, and we can only hope that my creative block shall remove itself soon enough. he’d answer easily.
His art wasn’t reserved for these people, but he’d let them live in the imagination that one day their lounge could be adorned with a true Giovanni.
Dear muse, where did that lawyer of ours go? Giovanni would ask Calliope with a smile, as they removed themselves from being fawned over by the rich and barely coherent.
Calliope scratched the nape of her neck as she shrugged a little. But after a second she figured something out.
He might’ve managed to make some connections with some media magnate that’s trying to buy off his fourth ex-wife over cheating on her with his fifth wife… She’d explain.
Giovanni rolled his eyes, but he could be proud of Larry’s grifting ability. It hadn’t been his idea to bring him along, such parties weren’t for someone like Larry, but it seemed Giovanni had underestimated the man’s ability to sell his dubious talents to people that had too much money.
Fine, then at least he’s keeping himself busy. Then we can focus on some time between the two of us… Giovanni replied with an off-hand shrug as they continued walking down the lawn and entered the excessively opulent club house adorned with gold that only the finest of children’s hands could’ve pulled out of the earth.
Calliope would do a double take and a blush of red came on her cheeks. W-Wait, you don’t mean… Right here, right now? But I thought… Calliope stammered at the implication behind Giovanni’s words.
Giovanni would stop at an oversized door and pushed it open, looking oblivious at the young muse falling over her words.
What on earth are you even talking about, Calliope? he’d ask with an incredulous tone.
As the doors opened wide, the lounge greeted them, devoid of people, a lingering waft of expensive cigars still hung faintly in the air. A place where society shaping deals were struck was now the site of Giovanni’s next conquest.
I need you to be present as I do the ultimate in wine tasting, because today, I will be tasting the bitter tastes of defeat… That my opponents will be receiving at Disputed Territory.
Calliope seemed stumped, and both disappointed and once more heartbroken that she had the completely wrong idea. At least, not the idea that she had wanted to see happen, potentially on the pool table on the other side of the oversized lounge.
A wine tasting… Calliope walked into the room and looked at the litany of bottles standing proudly on the tables in front of them. I mean, of course, what else could you ever want me for, right? she’d say with a wry smile.
Giovanni nodded in agreement and a big smile plastered on his face as he walked past the bottles.
So, what does wine tasting have to do with your match at Disputed territory? Calliope would ask, indulging Giovanni’s tangent.
Smiling widely, Giovanni tapped his forehead as he picked up the Warrior Rising Championship off a small pedestal and put it over his shoulder before finally returning to stand next to Calliope.
With my connections, I have managed to distil the very essences of the pathetic cavalcade of losers that me and my good friend Johnny Levy will defeat soon to become the contenders for the tag titles. he’d explain, gesturing widely at six sets of bottles.
Picking up the first bottle, he’d show the label towards Calliope before taking two glasses, one for himself and one for Calliope. Putting the bubbly to his lips, it wouldn’t take long before they both spat it into the bucket, because they were classy and weren’t drinking to get sauced like brutes.
For starters we have Brut de Psycho. A wine farmer in Peru managed to create a bottle that is about as inane as inane gets. First you have the generic hints that can only describe Slade Castle to a t, a man who I can’t be bothered to read up on because nobody honestly ever gave a shit about him, and he’s just the next footnote in his partner’s long line of throwing people under a bus. And then there’s the aftertaste which leaves on wanting to say…
Motherf— Calliope filled in the blanks, but stifled her at the last second to say something so crude and nasty.
Giovanni smiled and nodded in perfect agreement. Then offered the second taste.
Wait, this tastes like… nothing at all? Calliope questioned after spitting out the drink.
Giovanni would again nod in agreement.
I always knew your palate was as tender as your visage, my dear muse… You’re absolutely correct, it’s Vino de Phantom. Distilled nothingness, it has zero redeeming qualities, zero interesting traits, an Italian blend of irrelevance that perfectly describes the two men that form the so called ‘Phantom Troupe’. Who will be attempting, and I use the word ‘attempt’ very loosely, to regain the titles they could barely hold for more than a month before being swept.
Calliope would nod, but had a second thought.
Ugh, I hate those two, and how they caused you to get your first loss! Calliope’s nose would crinkle a little bit in disdain, and quickly looked away from the bottle.
You’re right, that was a disgrace that I was put in those conditions, but they will soon find out that with Johnny Levy in my corner, that my loss will not only be vindicated, but practically eradicated from anybody’s memory. Because they never truly beat me. Giovanni monologued with intent and fire, the anger of that first loss still present.
Moving on, they were halfway at the third bottle. One of the fanciest bottle of them all, covered in gold and sparkling in the light from the chandeliers above them. Calliope was to put it to her lips, but before she could Giovanni would take a hold of her wrist, a split second of a tender moment shared but Giovanni quickly throwing the drink into the bucket without even tasting.
I’d rather not you punish yourself with this one, my dear. It’s El Oro de Tontos. Because like the name implies… he’d pause, pick up the bottle, and with a small movement of Calliope’s nail, the gold quickly falls off. It’s merely fools gold, because true gold doesn’t need to call itself such, doesn’t need to be so gaudy and ever-present in our faces. Because the two women that dare call themselves ‘golden goddesses’, they are neither golden nor goddesses. he’d say with even more venom on his voice.
Pausing a second, he’d shift the belt on his shoulder as he needed a second to recompose himself.
I thought our struggles were behind us after dealing with that maniac Lexi Gold at The Crowning. But now she’s even infected Betsy Gallagher with the same insanity, combining their unimpressive gaudy powers into one very misleading package. But even though we’re two months removed, nothing has changed, I am still the most superior wrestler, and I won’t let that fake veneer of fake gold blind me from beating both of them and once more putting them in their place…
Letting out a sigh, Giovanni would drop his shoulders for a second. But with the presence of Calliope nearby, he regained his courage and quickly continued for they were scarcely finished.
Wait a minute, is that… Calliope seemed confused as she moved to the next one.
Rather than a bottle of alcohol, instead what she was greeted by was a bottle of sprite, cough syrup and a pile of jolly rangers.
Nobody could find something resembling the complete stupidity that is Little Petey’s lapdogs, Big Luxury Drip. So I got the closest thing that resembles them. Let’s just move on, because the less said about those two pathetic losers, the best… Besides, if we look at it too long, TJ might appear out of thin air and down it all in front of our eyes… he’d scoff before moving to the second to last bottle.
Doing a little flourish with his hands, he’d arrive to the most mysterious one of them all. Taking a sip, they’d spray away the wine into the handheld bucket and Giovanni would eagerly await Calliope’s thoughts.
Why does this taste like Clearasil and 5 Hour Energy? she’d ask in utter confusion. How does one even distil such a wine in the first place? she’d look at the bottle in utter bewilderment.
Giovanni shrugged, himself not privy to the magic that is wine making, merely an expert in appreciating good wine. Of which they had four and a half examples of the absolute opposite.
Ah yes, I think the sommelier kinda lost the plot and started chucking shit together because it’s hard to invite five very specific flavours on the whims of a genius like me… But what it is supposed to encapsulate is the youthful exuberance of one pimply kid named Mikey Hero, and a Japanese energizer bunny in the form of DIANA. Now, I don’t know what those crazy kids get up too, I’m sure I barely want to know. But the gist of it is that they don’t stand a gogh-damned chance against a team of true artistes. Whether they run solo or run around each other like a bunch of hormonal teenagers. Giovanni gestured in an off-hand motion.
Actually I don’t think they’re dating…
Giovanni turned his head and cocked an eyebrow in doubt.
Darling, that team name ain’t fooling anybody. If those two aren’t bumping uglies when the camera’s aren’t rolling like a bunch of rabbits, then… I don’t know, we’d sooner be in a steamy relation. Giovanni remarked losing the plot for a second.
Calliope rolled her eyes and blushed lightly. Yeah, don’t be crazy. That’s the last thing you’d think about, right? Calliope spoke sounding utterly shattered at Giovanni’s continuing obliviousness.
Giovanni, in true Giovanni fashion, would not think much of the statement and quickly return to finish his tangent. As he grabbed the final bottle with the most beaming smile he had shown in as long as one could remember.
And this my dear muse, is the true piece of art. But before you think anybody is allowed to taste it I will stop you there. Because this bottle of wine is unique, because only one of it exists in this world, and after me and Levy succeed in cleaning up the entire list of contenders in this diabolically unartistic tag division, we will share it together in celebration. he’d say with a delighted smile, nearly cradling the bottle.
Showing the label, it said “Maison de Giovanni et Levy” in the most delectable French calligraphy the world has ever seen. True gold combined with diamonds and sapphires that glittered in fantastical dances of optical illusions.
The taste of this is perfection, I personally found an old winemaker in the heart of Champagne, a true master of his art who turned his life work as a celebration of my life work. A perfect wine for the perfect artiste who shall bring a renaissance to wrestling. Because after winning the Warrior Rising title, I knew that my goals should never be stifled by a singular object. And it inspired me to combine my forces with my good friend Levy and challenge for the Tag Titles, so that not only I hold gold, but Levy will too. he said, almost waxing poetically as he was swept up in the magic of a bottle of wine that knew no brothers or sisters.
This magnum opus will seal our victory, and we will all drink it after we bring class to the tag division, something it has never known, and something I will put all my toil in to creating. Because my life work can never stop, and together, this beautiful wine will be the sweetest taste in art history.
Taking the bottle, he’d place it in a suitcase that was as luxurious as the bottle it would hold. A reinforced Kevlar and composite suitcase that nobody could get into without an impossible cipher he’d keep hidden from the world. To be opened when tag success greeted the artist and the actor.
Come Calliope, let’s schmooze with these pathetic old money fools for just a while longer, before we start planning to sip from the sweetest fount of victory yet!
Without even asking, he’d offer Calliope his arm, and together they’d whisk away. Their plans ready, Disputed Territory becoming the next step in Giovanni’s artistical master plan…
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