OOC: Didn't Feel like coding this one
Alter Ego IIII:
Chapter: Style
..:: I think I’m an aficionado in style. I mean, look at me man. I’m always dressed with the freshest gear, whether it be a polo or a fitted, it’s fresh. Sometimes you gotta reinvent your style though. When you do, you get things that aren’t so good and things that are good. ::..
..:: For me it is usually the latter. ::..
..:: See, I’m always recreating myself. You have to in this world. If you don’t, you’ll get caught up in the passing fad and you’ll cease into the past. ::..
..:: It’s like that with everything. ::..
..:: Even in wrestling. You come in with the same deal and you think it’s going to work. It isn’t against someone like me. People just don’t understand that the reason I call myself GOD is not because I’m better than you. I call myself the entity because I’m like no one else in this business when it comes to style. It changes daily. Hell, right now it’s changing. You can never prepare for someone who is constantly evolving. ::..
..:: It’s why I’ve been untouched for weeks ::..
December 13th, 1995: Finding Out
It was a good three months before Sam would open up to me. We had been dating for months and it was the best I could have ever asked for. She even came to all my football games even when I only played a few plays. She supported me for a very long time until I started my senior year. Anyways, one night I took her out to a nice dinner because it looked like she was never treated properly. I didn’t have much money either but I had a grant money and a scholarship so I wasn’t doing that bad.
Anyways, where was I?
Right, I took her out for dinner and I remember she got a tossed salad with grilled chicken. Why I remember I don’t know. She was looking stunning in this jean and shirt outfit I bought her. Yeah, I was in love with this girl. I guess I’m a sucker for women.
“How is your food?”
I asked her and she smiled at me.
“I haven’t had something this good in a long time,”
she replied and this was my chance to ask her why she didn’t have any money.
“Why is that?”
I looked into her brown eyes and she coughed and stuffed her mouth full of food. I remember her eyes darting to the left and then her face followed and I grabbed her chin and moved it forward. For a moment our eyes met and she looked at the table.
“I… I don’t know. No money for me. Plenty for my brother but none for me.”
“None for you? What do you mean?”
I asked and she swallowed all her food and took a deep breath.
“The family I come from… they aren’t very pro-women. I was the accident child, or so my father claims. My brother is a few years older than I am and he got everything. I got all his hand-me-downs so I’ve never known how to dress like a woman”
she told me and I just lost my breath. How can a father not take care of his daughter?
“So you weren’t supposed to be?”
“I guess. My parents wanted one child and then I came along and ruined everything. That’s part of the reason I moved down here. I wasn’t welcome in the family. Samantha Merit… the black sheep,”
she said with a slight chuckle which was to make her feel better. She never felt good talking about this and I knew it after this. This was the first and last time it was ever brought up.
“So your father’s just an ****? I hate him already,”
I said and she laughed.
“Don’t hate him. You’re gonna have to meet him someday, if we stay together.”
“Oh, we will. I predict we’re going to be together for a long time. I just don’t like him, is all. Why else did you move down here?”
I asked and Sam’s face became flushed. I remember her grabbing her left arm and squeezing it tight.
“I can’t talk about that Johnny. I just can’t,”
she replied and by this time we hadn’t done anything sexual. She wouldn’t let me do anything because she said it wasn’t ‘right’.
“Well, someday I’m going to find out. Might as well get it out now dear.”
“Promise you won’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t.”
“My father… he’s very… abusive,”
she said that and my eyes filled with fire. At this point her father was the scum on the bottom of my shoe.
“He would hit me and my mother constantly if we did something he didn’t agree with. I had to get away. I still love him but…”
“… how can you still love him Sam? How can you still call him family?”
“He’s my father Johnny. Your father has done some stupid mistakes, right?”
she asked and I nodded my head.
“Well these were just his mistakes. After he did it he would always help them heal because he felt bad.”
“No, he just didn’t want to get busted by the police,”
I replied and the next thing is something I’ll never forget as long as I live. She looked down at her salad and then back up at me with tears filling her eyes. It was the saddest she’s ever looked.
“You’re not going to beat me, are you?”
I remember looking at her and taking my finger and wiping the tears away from her eyes.
“Why would I ever beat something as gorgeous as you? You should be put on display for the entire world to see. I’m never going to hurt you for as long as we’re together. That is my promise to you,”
I answered and I took her hand and held it.
“I’m in love with you. I don’t hurt what I love.”
“Thank you,”
Was all she said before we finished our dinner and walked outside on the snowy day. I drove her to her house and I kissed her good night but she didn’t leave the car.
“Something wrong?”
“Is your roommate home?”
she asked me and my mind started racing. Why would she want to know that?”
“No, he won’t be home for a good week. Why?”
“I think I’m ready,”
I remember she said and I put the car in drive as we drove off into the blistering cold. It was a night I’ll never forget because she gave herself to me.
I was her first.
* * *
This one is gonna be brutal.
I believe I’ve said my piece all week, there isn’t much to say rather then this is going to be your wake-up call, Matt. This is going to be the match where, ten years down the road, you’re jobbing to Kalie Suck Face and you’re going to wonder who the hell caused you to do this. You’re going to wonder who the hell gave you that limp in your step. You’re going to be wondering who the hell caused your eye to become swollen shut for life. You’re going to wonder why you’re paying a chiropractor to straighten your back out each week. You’ll think back and you will remember this match. You will remember the day that SBK whooped your ass from pillar to post without even dropping a bead of sweat.
Believe that.
But, knowing all the young pups, you’ll be putting up a fight. You said yourself that you’re not going down without a fight. Good, Matt, put up a fight. Give me your hardest effort possible. It’s going to look like a baby trying to fight a gorilla when the time comes. You’re going to flail your arms around looking for a chance to hit me. When you do hit me, it’s not going to do any damage and I’ll succeed in breaking your neck with the swing of my arm. Then I’ll just walk away, leaving your broken body for someone to sweep up and throw in a dumpster.
That is your fate, good sir. You’ll deny it and say that isn’t what is going to happen, but in reality it is. The drunk talk isn’t cute, it’s been done before. I’ve heard it a million times from punks like you. Punks trying to take me out of the picture so it’s easy for them to reach the top. I do not hate on you for being a fan of the bottle, Matt, good on ya. I’m saying that after this match you’ll hate my guts just like everyone else in the HIW locker room drunk or sober. That’s a proven fact. I don’t have friends. Just a long ass list of enemies.
The thing is Matt, you need to try and be on my level, I don‘t need to drink my self stupid to get a point across. You need to try and beat me. You need to not have any respect for me. This is your biggest match of your life. I hope you try harder then your rants
That’s all I want you to do: try.
Try and succeed where others fail. Do what only one person has been able to do this year: pin my shoulders to the mat.
See, I’m living in a big brick house. I’m a fat ass pig. I’m stuck up, I leave tracks all over the place, and I eat a lot. You’re a big ass wolf with intentions of taking down my impenetrable wall. Hell, you’ll be one of the many wolves to try and take down my house. You’ll knock and I won’t answer. You’ll huff and puff and try and blow down my house. Then, after about an hour I’ll get pissed off and just like all the other wolves that have come this way, I’ll open the door and let you get a taste of what it’s like to be a fat ass pig in the land of wolves and I’ll slit your throat and eat your remains.
Oh, I guess I didn’t mention I eat a lot of wolves.
I’ll leave you with that thought as you countdown the hours, minutes, and seconds until you face the best. Lace up your boots and try and contemplate what you’re about to face. Talk to yourself about bringing your best game out there against me. Hit a few lockers to get your adrenaline pumping. As you stand in the ring and I walk down the ramp looking at you, begin to get scared. Being to rethink every strategy you thought would work. Take the thoughts of trying to make this the fight of your life and throw it out the window. Then when I get in the ring, you’ll fall like you were possessed by the Holy Ghost.
Don’t try and beat me, Matt. You don’t want to beat me but I want to beat you. I want to beat you to teach you what you did wrong to fail your ‘test’. I want to beat you not because I enjoy it, which I do, but to prove a point. I don’t care if you want to beat me or if you don’t want to beat me. There is no stopping SBK. There is no stopping the greatest wrestler to ever enter HIW. There is no stopping greatness at its prime.
There is no stopping the countdown to immortality.
Keep your sights on the ****/UK championship that’s the world your heading into. Keep your sights on a realistic goal. Right now, this isn’t realistic or even in your dreams. Two. Stop drinking yourself stupid, the last thing I want is a Drunken rant about being to drunk to focus. You should know by now that I don’t give a **** about what you have to say. I don’t give a **** about what anyone says. Three. Don’t expect me to be all nice to you. I don’t care if all your teeth fall out in this match. I don’t care if I give you a severe concussion. I expect you to be as ruthless and evil as I am. **** all the nice guy bullshit.
Stop being a little Drunk **** and Man up.
With that said, Matt, let me clue you in on something. This isn’t your kingdom. You don’t run **** here. You don’t have a throne or an assigned cubby hole. You’re nothing here. So for you to say that I’m on your throne is absurd. Hell, I don’t even sit on my throne. I sit atop the **** North Pole watching all the fuckers try to run **** in my world. When one of them gets out of line, what do I do? I sure as hell don’t sit there getting my balls all cold. I get up and kick the **** out of anyone who tries to be the best. Then I’ll return to the North Pole and kick it with Santa Claus, getting drunk and ****.
Ha, I kid Matt. I kid.
I’ll be leaving this match shaking my head wondering how someone could try and stop me on the path to Greatness and your head will involuntarily move from left to right after I separate your neck from spine courtesy of a very royal End Result.
In the end, that is what everyone wants to see
See you Tomorrow Night
