Post by Jackie The Lad on Nov 17, 2015 17:53:49 GMT -6
Testicles… Testicles… One, two, testicles.
The screen is completely black, though starts fading into white noise.
Jackie Fowler: This on?
The room is dark and dusty. A hastily made double bed rests in the corner, its pillows though are scattered about the room. In the opposite corner of the room is a large wicker dog’s basket covered by an electric blue blanket. This bed, however, is barren of covers and by it’s side is a half drunk bottle of MD 20/20 in a torn brown bag. There are no electric appliances in this room. No television, no radio, no phone, no nothing. All there is of note is a cluttered oak desk littered with a variety of letters, some opened, others not. The large double window is framed by a torn and tattered navy blue curtain, which blocks most of the light in the room bar one thin sharp ray. The camera focusing in is on a tilt, with a very familiar figure standing in front of it.
Jackie Fowler: How we doin’, mate? Views a bit slanted, bit like me old mucker Carey’s views on the world right naw, but fuck it! Here I am, Jackie “The Bastard” Fowler, invading your computer screens deeper and harder than Simon Raines ever took it up the anus and one hundred percent unlubed. ‘Cause I’m ‘bout to go in dry, bitches! Naw, you might be wonderin’ why I have turned up on your screens. After all, most of me promos tend to get censored to buggery and this ain’t exactly EXODUS, Revo nor Portland Pro TV time, innit? But I know a fair few people wit’ the camera skills and the computer smarts to get this shit uploaded and rammed harder down your throats than an Issac Solo push, so let’s get down to it, shall we?
Jackie paces to the table, takes a deep swig of the alcoholic beverage and picks up a pile of papers which he eagerly begins flicking through.
Jackie Fowler: Few weeks ago, I made this deal with Darrin Judas Stearns when he went on this verbal diarrhoea rampage over the twatter machine in a bid to act like the big man on campus, but he ended up with egg an’ jizz on his face in the process, coming off like a whiney little brat who couldn’t get his way. And you know what, he didn’t. He made me go up against me one time mate, Revo Champ Carey Caldwell. And no, I ain’t calling it the WORLD title because when the San Diego Bay title is ranked bigger than it, it certainly ain’t a fucking World title. The stip was, if I lost… I were fired. But that didn’t happen, did it? Just like I said it wouldn’t. The terms if I didn’t lose? I got a match of me choosin’. Simples, right?
Well, Stearns went and gave me these long terms and conditions AFTER we made the agreement. Not very gentlemanly, right? Naw. But I’m a class act so I agreed and had a flick through. Seems like I can have the match of me choosing against anyone, and I mean ANYONE who has an EXODUS or Revo contract and is cleared medically by a doctor to compete. One of the other terms in this yawn fest of a document… haha, spelling mistake. His grammar is shite… it states that this must be a one on one match. Fair enough, not after a Christum Furor harem standoff here. Not in a match anyway.
Jackie wipes his hands on his white vest as he continues on, and as the camera pans out it is revealed he is just wearing this, a red dressing gown and a pair of y-fronts. He flicks through the papers rapidly, slightly appalled by the content upon them.
Jackie Fowler: Let’s see here… this can take place at any event, televised, pay per view or not, during the remainder of this calendar year. That’s fair enough. Also… what the fuck this say? Jesus, this contract more riddled than Christian Kane… In the event that the selected party is already booked in a contest, they may not be selected. Ah right, fair play I can deal with that.
Jackie flips the documents into the air as he is showered by white paper as he lets out a yawn.
Jackie Fowler: Right… so there’s the boring part out of the way. Who do I face? When do I face them. Location is simple, innit. Seeing as with without this contract Stearns wouldn’t have had to gall to book me here, I’ll sort that out for him. December the seventh, two thousand and fifteen. RIMAC Field, San Diego! THE AUTUMN EFFECT THREE!
He feigns a shocked expression on his face, mocking those that are currently watching his pirate broadcast.
Jackie Fowler: Got your attention naw, eh? That’s right, Jackie Fowler, that British twat from the stands is going to be competing on EXODUS’ biggest show of the year. And what can you do about it? Naff all, mate. I’m gonna be on the big stage with me cock out, pissin’ all over your dreams ‘cause on this night I’m gonna become the biggest star in the fucking industry. So all you fucks in Revo, thinking you’re all the top dogs because you got the support of management and the sushi guzzlin’ wankshafts in the front row… Guess again, bell ends! NAAAAAAAW!
Naw who do I pick? What worthy opponent do I select as I make me first steps down that red carpet to the hall of fame, eh? Well, I can’t pick anyone already booked, so all these guys in repeat matches from last year are all out of the window. I mean, seriously, they got pretty damn lazy with the booking on that one, didn’t they? All the guys and gals hoping for stardom in the Battle Royale? In the canal like a cat in a bin bag, not like facing any of them would elevate me soaring star or erect me ever long dick. No point facing anyone from Revo. The champ couldn’t beat me, I sparked out Caleb for being too big for his boots and I have a long, long list of W’s against the rest of the crew, so that just ain’t good enough for someone like me.
And I know, right naw somewhere… Darrin Stearns has been working out, checking things up with his doctor and all that jazz because he is certain I’m going to pick him… But really, why would I wanna knock out that cripple in a match? What does that do to elevate me star, eh? Nowt. Doesn’t prove anything. I beat a cripple. I can do that backstage if I fancied a laugh. So no. I won’t be facing Darrin Stearns in me match.
He picks up one piece of paper, which seems to have the scribbles of signatures upon it.
Jackie Fowler: If I’m going to shake things up, if I’m going to elevate me self to being the biggest and hottest property in this business… I’m gonna have to think big. Real big. I’m going to have to do something that has never been done before. I’m going to have to go out there and do the unexpected, the unthinkable, the impossible. I’m going to have to turn the world upside down and take a big steaming shite over all of it. Take it by the balls, rip it off, turn that dick inside out and prove it to be a pussy all along. So this is what I’m gonna do, and me job is on the line on this one as well, thought I’d let you know Stearns threw that piece of granny wank in there while he was at it.
My opponent has been selected. And the guy I’m facing has agreed. He signed the contract earlier on today and it’s on like Donkey Kong, bitches. I’m going to do what no other competitor in this industry has ever done before. I’m going to go one on one with a man who they say cannot be beat. I’m going to face a man who has NEVER been beaten in his entire life. And I’m going to twat the living hell out of him, and I’m going to win. Then all you whining, privileged fucktards who have literally sucked your way to the top of the mountain will find that it all crumbles beneath you as I fuckin’ reach for the heavens.
Fowler has a look of steely determination in his eyes, though his grin is pure cockiness. He has his arms outstretched as if he is challenging the entire planet to take him on all at once and he lets out a crazed laugh.
Jackie Fowler: At the Autumn Effect Three… December the Seventh… “The Bastard of Bowland” Jackson Lorenzo Fowler will go one on one with…
The look of cockiness disappears from his face as he speaks the name of his chosen opponent.
Jackie Fowler: The Artist Formerly Known As Prince Kamijo.
And with that, Jackie boots the camera and we fade to black.