Post by lulu on Apr 20, 2021 22:55:54 GMT -5
Goiania Arena, sitting atop the apron of an abandoned ring
Midnight, April 19th, of The Lord's year 2021
It’s funny. Watching the show I main event is a hall of mirrors projecting every mistake I’ve ever made, caught in 4k and played on such a big screen you could see it from the Ingenuity helicopter. ‘I’m the biggest, baddest guy to walk the planet! You think you’re bad because you won a match? I had to teabag a piranha tank to get here! I had to lose my parents to get here! I had to walk backwards through a field of dicks to get here!’ Silly, silly nonsense! In a house full of Tony Sopranos, how do you make sure your voice doesn’t fall into the white noise? Not by screaming the same tune everyone’s singing - but by playing something different, something individual, and something authentic!With all of that pomp and circumstance, I’d like to announce my retirement. I understand Pyro’s massive disappointment upon officially handing my the role of cool kid on the bloc, but I can’t imagine a karmatic 360 no-scope better than facing off against Fairweather while standing in his shoes, yeah? Leave the shock and awe for someone worth it, will you? Mother raised a boy so devout to the word that he sung in the freakin’ choir for two clicks of a deer’s knees, and underneath all this battle-tested, bruised and beaten bullshit of a bravado I got tatted from the rooter to the tooter, is a man who serves his beliefs, rather than one who believes only what serves him. Post concussion, I might not know who the president is, but the seven sacraments never leave me. Pray before meal and rest, and most importantly - and I only say it because I believe it - understand what it means to be a gracious guest. We spent our time focused on the after, not trifle things like the now! The suffering in this life translates to the celestial in the next - and like a good scout would always say, wherever you go, be sure to leave things better than they were before you found them.
That is why I can look at my past actions on this show and say I am not the teacher you all need me to be. No knock against Savannah, but can we really reliably sit back and say the top face on the brand should be getting knocked off by someone more qualified to be a ring girl than a competitor in the same ring? Show of hands - how many of us cannot say without one ounce of doubt that this gold isn’t bound to me by talent, but by trickery, by connections, by the hand of God himself, or whatever you’d want to blame it on?
Shit, I might even have to raise ‘em up high for that one. Everyone likes to suck their teeth when mentioning Fallout, as that neat, niche show, currently bringing the backyard to you! They don’t understand it - and nature despises a void - so they fill it with whatever theory fits where no theory exists. They think of it as a certain schadenfreude, a spirit of choice. But DARE was right! It’s a simple gateway drug! Soon those kids doing cartwheels onto mattresses don’t exactly get you as high as they did before - soon, you’re tapping your arm twice to summon a vein to attention, so a dose of men getting set on fire, fighters going through glass and barbed wire, or men being turned into girl scout cookies or whatever the shit DeMarco’s up to this week is the new high you’re chasing. But what comes next? How many times can the bar keep getting raised? Each time you people get a bigger hit, the tolerance increases, and it takes more and more to chase the same buzz… so for those who don’t understand, you see it as a losing equation.
Shit, I never said XOXO, and I ain’t Gossip Girl. I ain’t got entire blog posts to write about my love for the place constantly trying to put me in a hole in the ground. Is Fallout going to be around forever? Nope. It’s going to join the alphabet soup of letters of federations you can’t even remember to forget. But screw hesitance - nobody’s on cruise control, this thing’s driving until the wheels fall off, middle finger out the benz, ‘Pac style. If my teachings aren’t something that can help Fallout achieve that mission, would I be doing my mother proud if I didn’t recognize when my presence was doing a disservice?
I think not. My pride cannot take it. Less I make a twitter account to voice my complaints so much so my unhappiness becomes my personal brand, it’s best to throw up the deuces with my head held high. My days of teaching to the masses might’ve been a significant moment, but that’s all they were: a moment. Whether you clung to my every word like bees to honey, or you spit sick venom when this pretty face made an appearance… it doesn’t matter now.
My days of teaching to the masses are over.
.
My days of teaching to my disciples have just begun.
Screw the masses - as fickle and temperamental as they may be, a beast with no heads is one without a brain. Dickie Watson was the beloved underdog until he found success and changed from a New York Giant to a Tom Brady’s Patriots. You loved Mark Hunter for the correcting a universal wrong by defeating someone you didn’t like - but in Mark Hunter being his imperfect self, you turn on him. You knock Fallout’s inception as DeMarco’s brainchild - and yes, I do mean that literally - but applaud as Indy Darling does the exact same thing, anyways! Is it because you’re foolish? Maybe you are heathens? No, that’s assuming a luxury you all don’t deserve - the luxury of having a name! If you had a name, we’d be acknowledging that you’re real. We’d be acknowledging the eyes each person backstage feels watching their every movement, we’d be acknowledging the pressure you all apply to every shiny stone until that diamond in the rough is nothing but cracked shards, and we’d be acknowledging the stampeding elephant in the room.
You all don’t like fighting, you like seeing death, and enjoy this as an avenue for witnessing it. While it is my job to allow you to suck at the teat, the masses can be damned! For every Shawn Warstein is a Pat the Postman. For every Elena DeDraca, is ten “”Jason Long””s, and for every Drago Santiago, exists at least one Zack Tyler.
Zack Tyler, I want to congratulate you - the second I saw your name on the card next to mine, I assumed DeMarco was doing it to teach me a lesson. If I don’t put effort in, I get placed in matches with men whose efforts all seem effortless - but that’s giving the big man too much credit, ain’t it? No, I can call myself the current PRIME champion, but you’ve got a title that’s more interesting than anything I will ever hold! You get the privilege of having the title of being the person so unteaching that you made Drago Santiago decide to not even try!
Santiago, what was it that made you give up on us?
It’s easier to tell you the opposite - after all, how does one find a piece of hay in a needle stack? Picking him apart’s easy enough that I wouldn’t get the thrill of hearing the buzzer if I accidentally hit his sides, because this ain’t exactly Operation. Maybe I loathed his cockamany attitude from the second his ego carried him over the threshold and bounced his head off the door frame. I’m the best and all my competition is beneath me, he says to another opponent before they do to his head what Shaq did to rims. I’m not even going to complain about his incessant confused about Fallout with EWC - because it’s easy to understand why he does it, when you realize he’s a complete loser in both. What can I teach a Zack Tyler that he couldn’t have learned himself by now? How many times must he take a boot stuck up his ass as permission for diarrhea of the mouth?
I could pinky pwomise to go into the ring and teach lil’ Zacky all the tricks he was too busy self-worshipping to learn in wrestling school. I can teach him how to break out of a headlock. I can hold his hand as he skins the cat, and I can even sit back and hand him a microphone until he learns to cut a promo until he finally does it right, but no matter how much lipstick you put on that pig, it’s still a fucking pig.
This is one last warning to all of the Zack Tylers of the world. All of the lazy, uneducated, unmotivated idiots proudly bathing in their own filth. Drago Santiago is taking a stand - and you’re either going to bend the god-damned knee, or be left without a knee to bend. Long gone are the days of Drago Santiago saving the world from a man like Pyro, who lives to watch the entire thing burn down, because that’s just too idealistic, yeah?
Pyro wants to burn down the world, and I want to do anything I can to make it happen. I ain’t here to lead everyone. This is the last needle my bleeding heart could take. I’m here to lead whatever’s left.