Post by Kyzer on Feb 17, 2012 1:45:32 GMT -5
There are those little punkasses in the world that seem to think that they can fill a particular niche in the wrestling world and that makes them badass. I remember one little hobo who was obsessed with death matches and other sadomasochistic perversions. This little hobo was floundering around in the bottom of the cesspool that was the WFWF at the time of my arrival. While he was begging for scraps with all the other pathetic wannabes while I was beating everyone they set in front of me. I didn’t waste my time with Tag Titles or International Titles.
I went trophy fishing.
That was 5, 6 years ago…Now the little hobo has grown a sack and finally clawed his way to the top. He managed to even have his own world title reign after I left. Beating no one doesn’t make him a champion; I proved that the good Reverend was pathetic long before he ever bested him.
Now he has been on this tear, beating all about the worthless sh~ts they throw in front of him. Well except for Hutton Brown who seemed to make the hobo his bitch.
None of this impresses me. None of this makes a difference in the way I perceive you. They say first impressions are everything. You will never be more than that hobo that was starving for fame, the tool who attempted to grab fame in cheap hardcore matches that no one cared about.
Obo…
Or Phillip Schneider…
Can I call you Phil? I know I said I would never call you by your Jew name, but who are you…Chuck Lorre?
You might think that you have changed or grown since your debut, you might think that you have established yourself as this unique persona in our world, unfortunately for your precious heart you have failed. And failed miserably at that. You can tout your accomplishments, but your greatest claim to fame came around when I wasn’t here, Drakz wasn’t around, David Brennan wasn’t on the scene yet. So who could you have possibly beaten that could give you credibility? There is only one answer for this question and I am thinking that the answer is pretty obvious.
No one….
You have beaten no one of note…ever. You couldn’t beat Hutton Brown. It isn’t like you hold a victory over EBR at Super Brawl. It isn’t like you tore through every legend of a fallen generation when you came into the WFWF. Was it you who returned and leapfrogged to the top? Yeah...that was me. You returned Christmas 2010. I returned September 2011. And yet you look up to me.
Why is that Phil? Why is it I can do everything you can do but better? I know I f~ck better; we have some common ground there. I have beaten you once already. Or did that escape you while you indulged in your autoerotic asphyxiation fetish? Did you forget that David Carradine? I know I am more cunning or it would have been you closing out Super Brawl. But you were too busy getting your ass pumped by Hutton.
So Phil, let’s take a practical look at our situation…
I came back, stole your thunder, leapfrogged you to the top, won the World Heavyweight Title, and then to make my life even better I end up with a little slice of Kylie Pie. I will give you props on that one, son. She’s a tight one. But back to the discussion at hand, I have everything it seems. I forgot to mention that I also managed to put together the most elite little group possible. You have what? Percy? Didn’t he used to be my bitch boy when I was running the WFWF? I guess I taught him good if he is running your life.
Some would say that you are desperate…
Are you Phil? Phil, are you desperate? Are you feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders? It is a David and Goliath type situation we have here. You are David and I am Goliath. You think you can be clutch like David was? Or are you going to be another LeBron James?
You feel the weight, the pressure, the stress that comes with being in your situation. It is only normal when a guy who has a sh~t life comes face to face with something better than he could ever aspire to feel nervous or scared. You can try and mask it behind anger and threats of revenge. But I see the tears bro.
It’s cool if you cry…Everyone already thinks you have a vagina…
You are a desperate rat. You are backed into a corner. You could try and argue that will make you prone to unpredictability, but that is absolutely impossible. You are one hundred percent predictable. You are like every other generic niche wrestler out there. You are a worthless sh~t who panders to the lowest common denominator by using hardcore gimmick matches as masks. You have to hide your lack of talent behind skewers, barb wire, glass panes and buckets of your own blood.
You are a f~cking joke…Everyone is laughing at you…Turn around….
This little game that you want to have with me is going to end. It is going to end with you crying that you lost. Here is a little advice I have picked up in this world…
Losers lose….
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On A Night Like This
1/25/12, 7:32pm
“I am living in a den of hedonism. I am sitting amongst the filth of the world, junkies, hookers, strippers and all sorts of life right? I am surrounded by drugs and alcohol. It is a f~cking orgy that you can’t even describe. The depravity of it would make a normal turn sick. I am the King of Disgust, Filth, Sex, Excess, Drugs and Everything Else That Is Evil. Isn’t that how the world perceives me right? I am the Epitome of Evil, Vileness and Immoral Acts. That is the way everyone sees me right? I guess I can’t argue with it. I have never really given anyone to believe anything else. I do think it is embellished slightly as people tend to do when are jealous of someone. “[/i]
I realized that I needed some good publicity. I don’t know why I would bother with such a thing but I felt compelled. Maybe it was because of the role I have recently adapted as the face of the WFWF. After I stole the spotlight from that lesser guy, I forget his name; I became the top dog in the WFWF. Naturally that puts me as the poster boy of the company that I so love. More than likely it is because I am the prime suspect in an arson investigation and possible disappearance of baby mama number two. Rather than ponder why, let’s just get to the point. I, the beloved Michael Kyzer, sit in the LA offices of Rolling Stone Magazine. I am in this swanky place in my effort to generate some positivity around The Kyzerman. In this room of modern style décor, a man named Ed Taylor sits across from me.
Ed: So…how do I interpret that? I asked you how you were doing tonight.
He looks at me through his dreads. I have this feeling that Rolling Stone doesn’t take me seriously when they send a white guy with dreads to interview me. Not only that, he is wearing a blue Fila track suit. What kind of f~cking troll looks like that? Ed Taylor does. I would fire my agent if I knew who that was. I just remember saying that I should do an interview or something to help my image and here I am. It was almost like I made it happen with my superpowers. Maybe I am evolving or something like the X-Men?
Michael:I just thought it sounded pretty cool. I guess it really doesn’t answer your question. But you know, I am good. I am a little miffed by your organization at the person I am being interviewed by.
He looks like he is taken back and offended by my comments.
Michael:I mean bro, you have dreads…you are white. You look ridiculous, I feel like Rolling Stone doesn’t really think too highly of me.
Ed: I actually asked for this job…and now regret it. Where do you get the stones to question my appearance? You are a f~cking junkie. You look like sh~t yourself sir.
He probably has a point there.
Michael:Touché.
Ed: Should I continue or is there something else asinine you might want to say?
I apparently upset the troll. I am not too fond of the harshness in his voice. But being the nice guy I am, I will let it go. I take a puff off the blunt…did I not mention that? Oh yes, the entire time I have been toking on the kush like a badass. I blow some smoke Ed’s way, he looks more agitated. I offer him the blunt.
Ed: I was wondering when you would stop being a rude asshat and would share.
Asshat? He just ripped me off. Dick.
Michael:You need to get to the questions. I don’t think I like you.
He just shrugs as he hits my blunt. That sounds inappropriate.
Ed: So as I said, I asked for this job. I have been a fan of wrestling since I was a kid and working here at Rolling Stone, I don’t get a whole lot of opportunities to interview them unless they crossover or something.
I can’t get past this kid’s appearance. It evokes the anger emotion.
Ed: Needless to say, I have followed your career.
Well that just stroked the ego. Again, that sounds inappropriate.
Ed: I am not a fan.
F~ck you too.
Ed: What I am wondering though is, why have you chosen to give this interview? You aren’t exactly known to have good relations with the media after a filmmaker died making a documentary on you.
Michael:That was so 2006.
Ed: And that was the last real interaction you have had with the media outside of wrestling.
That is because I hate people like you.
Michael:I don’t hate you people or anything, I have just been busy.
Ed: And now you aren’t “busy”?
He throws up air quotes like a pompous douchebag.
Michael:Pretty much.
Ed: So what changed? Why this interview? Why give us the time of day? You are well known for your ego, your lifestyle, and your lack of disregard for pretty much everything and everyone. You are pretty much the most despicable person on the planet. I mean you are at the level that people might even cheer when you die from that inevitable overdose.
Wow. That was really mean.
Michael:Any other feelings about me you want to share?
Ed: Hey you started it with making fun of the dreads. These get me laid.
Maybe by 200lbs meat curtains, but not by anything I would f~ck with Obo’s dick.
Michael:I will assume by some form of livestock. But to the question, I realized that I needed a change in image. Or at least one with some slight positivity and it never hurts to promote an upcoming event.
Nice, don’t give away any hint that you could be in the crosshairs of the law. You are doing well, Michael.
Ed: Care to elaborate on the “needed a change in image”?
There are those air quotes again.
Michael:I think you pretty much covered it in your scathing critique of me.
Ed: So you want to become more liked?
Michael:Sure. Let’s go with that.
Ed: What else are you doing in this endeavor? Are you doing charity work or anything else?
I pretty much figured the interview would be enough.
Michael:Are you being serious?
Ed: I’ll take that as a no. So you whole plan to improve your image was just to have one interview?
Michael:The interview is just a start. I have a plan.
I don’t have a plan.
Ed: You care to share that?
Michael:…No.
He doesn’t say anything for a long minute. He is not making this easy for me. What kind of a reporter is this?
Ed: Let’s move on to something else. It looks like the WFWF is having a pay per view coming up that you are in the main event, it’s called It’s Super Effective…what kind of name is that for a wrestling event?
Michael:Yeah, it is pretty lame.
Ed: So you face off with Phillip Schneider for the World Heavyweight Title, are you nervous?
Michael:What kind of f~cking question is that? That is the question you have regarding my match with the Jew? What kind of reporter are you?
Ed: You are my first interview.
I don’t want your virginity kid.
Michael:I don’t want your virginity kid.
Ed: What?
I want to punch this kid in the throat. Then I want to do it again.
Michael:I am not nervous for my match. I am never nervous. That would mean I felt like I could lose the match. I don’t lose.
Ed: So you don’t think that Schneider could beat you?
Michael:I don’t lose.
Ed: You have a lot confidence.
Michael:Why not? Just look at the two of us? I am superior in every way. And did I mention I don’t lose?
I wonder if this guy has autism. Maybe like a high functioning version, that would explain why he is such a piece of sh~t and idiot all in one. Not that everyone with autism are those things.
Michael:I am going to bury the Jew.
Ed: The match you are taking part in favors Schneider as he has taken part in some of the most brutal battles in the history of the WFWF. That doesn’t bring you any concern at all?
Michael:I have had my share of violent matches. I had my match with Reverend Shadow where I crucified him. I had matches in other promotions. While I may not have the lengthy resume in the WFWF like the Jew does or really care for these types of matches, I have experience in this situation. And I will do what I always do. I will win. I don’t care what he does. It won’t be enough; no one has gotten the best of me in my career. It won’t begin now.
Ed: Why do you keep referring to Schneider as the Jew?
I find the blunt in my hand. I inhale deeply, taking in the smoke. Why do I refer to him as the Jew? Could it be because he doesn’t deserve to be called by his name? Could it be because he is a worthless piece of trash that should be happy I am even acknowledging him? Or is it simply because I am lazy and he is a Jew? Yes.
Michael:Because the hobo suddenly got identity doesn’t mean I have to recognize it with a proper name. F~ck him. It took him what 3 years to accomplish what I did in less than a year. Then I return and leapfrog him again. What does that tell you Ed?
Ed looks at me as he merely shakes his head. Really? It isn’t that obvious?
Michael:Bro, it is obvious that I am better than him. I have already beaten him once. And now he comes yapping for a shot at the title. He finally worked his way up. Actually I guess you could say he failed upwards as he lost to Hutton Brown and then magically was named number one contender by our new boss.
Ed: I guess that is one way to look at it. So you have recently taken in Schneider’s former student Kylie Olsen, how goes her training under you?
There are so many jokes with that one.
Michael:Training?
Ed: Word is she came to you for training since Schneider dumped her as his student.
Michael:Oh yeah…I forgot about that. She wants me to train her. Honestly I have got better things to do. I have no intention of teaching her anything except how to blow me better. That is one thing that Schneider obviously didn’t give her any instruction on. She can be a little too aggressive.
Ed: I don’t need to know more about that. So you aren’t going to train her? Is that her dream?
Michael:I don’t know, it isn’t like I have had a conversation with this girl. She is pretty much there for me to f~ck at this point. The point with her has been made and her use is quickly ending.
Ed: Have you told her any of this?
Michael:Why would I do that?
Ed: Because that is a horrible thing you are doing. You are leading her on only for her dreams to get crushed. That doesn’t register as a bad thing?
Michael:It doesn’t really concern me, so I don’t really see a reason to show it any interest.
Ed: You realize that in this interview you have done the complete opposite that you set out to do. There is absolutely nothing positive in this interview. There is no way to spin this in your favor. When this goes to print, this girl’s life will be crushed.
Well this has been a waste of time then. I think it is time to leave. This little sh~t isn’t going to do me any favors here with this story. I guess I have forgotten how to put on a face for trolls like this. I am out of practice. Oh well. F~ck it.
Michael:F~ck it. We all can’t be good guys.
I toss the blunt at him and leave the offices like the badass I am. F~ck making over my image. I just need to build some character references in case this investigation goes any further. Or least that is what my lawyer told me to do. Now, I need to go fire my agent for this little farce here.
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Come Into My World
2/12/2012, 1:15pm
My head hurts. It is the type of headache you get from staying up too long, when you mind starts spinning. This binge has been 82hrs. As I get older, I find myself unable to do the same things I could in my 20’s. 5 years ago, I would be good to go; I am starting to feel my age. It doesn’t help anything when I got that annoying little voice chirping in my ear. That bitch is really wearing on my patience. I look over at her naked body lain across my couch. I f~cked her into a coma about an hour ago. I finally got some peace. I look across my living room from my Throne and find myself disgusted with what I see. Besides the naked woman on the couch, there are clothes strewn about, large amounts of paraphernalia. At some point I broke my hookah and just left it on the floor, the smell from it permeates the room. It isn’t good either. I see multiple condoms just haphazardly thrown around the room.
Michael:This is disgusting.
I have done so much coke in the last 3 plus days that I can’t remember much of what has happened. Even now I struggle to remember anything in the last 12 hours or so. I look at the white line on the arm of my Throne. It calls for my nose, but I resist…I can feel my heart pound…there is a slight pain…it is sharp though…my fingers and toes curl…pounding…pain…but I love it…the pain, it hits my pleasure centers.
Michael:I am at the precipice.
My head is so scrambled I speak without meaning to. This is the edge, this is the point that I strive to hit every time. It is that moment where you know if you do another line, you will overdose. I have overdosed before, so I have gotten pretty good about hitting my target. I lean back and seek pleasure in what most people wouldn’t understand. My pocket vibrates and I become aware that I have pants on. I didn’t realize that I was dressed, well wearing pants at least. It continues to vibe as I try to work my tweaker hand into my pocket. I pull out my phone and try to read who is calling me. I have become illiterate. The letters just look like a word jumble.
Michael:Yeah?
My cotton mouth makes even that a difficult task. I look around and find a glass of some liquid on the other arm of my throne. I am really out of it. I could be hitting a wall here very soon.
Drakz:Yo, man you there?
It is Drakz I think. He is the only Welshman I know. My eyes are spinning in my head, I feel the need to take the line in hopes it gives me a clear head at least for a moment. But then I could overdose again…what would Michael Kyzer do right now? I really do ask myself that.
Drakz:Hey, Michael, you there? I can hear something mate.
I stare at the line, contemplate my future, say f~ck it and snort that bad boy up. I feel my senses return for a slight moment. It is that brief moment of clarity you get when you first feel that sh~t go up your nose.
Michael:Yeah, I’m here. Sorry about that. You caught me at a bad time. What’s up?
Drakz:I am on my over to pick you up.
I have zero idea what he is talking about.
Michael:What are you talking about?
Drakz:We were going to go to Sharper Image and to outfit our lair.
Lair? Sharper Image? What the f~ck is he talking about?
Drakz:Get ready mate, I’ll be there in 15.
He hangs up. I am confused but my mind starts spinning again, I am having a hard time remembering when I made plans with him. But I guess he is on his way over now. Kylie rolls over on the couch and opens one eye.
Kylie: Who was that?
I look at her. Her question registers in my brain. I tell my mouth to answer but it doesn’t obey. Speak.
Michael:Speak.
Jesus…I am f~cked up.
Kylie: What?
Michael:That was Drakz. He is on his way over.
Kylie: Hey, can you talk to him about my training? I really want to get back to it. I think I can really get far with your tutelage.
Why?
Michael:I’ll try to bring it up. I am waiting for the right moment. There has been a lot going on and I am not trying to add any distractions.
I am surprised at myself for being able to get that out.
Kylie: I know. I just think I can be a real asset. After some training, I could help you all out and stuff. I just want to do more than just what I am.
Michael:You mean you are tired of being used like a whore?
She shrinks back at the remark as if it hit home. She sits up and pulls herself into a ball. I can see that I hurt her feelings with that remark. I am snow blind right now; I could care less if I hurt her feelings. Grow up.
Kylie: That wasn’t a nice way to put it.
Michael:And how would you put it?
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just sits there looking down at the floor. She reminds me of someone on Law and Order: SVU, like someone who was abused or something. But I haven’t laid a hand on her except her ass and that was in the heat of the moment.
Kylie: I don’t know but not like that.
It is the truth. I have been using this girl since she showed up on my doorstep. She is only now catching on.
Kylie: Is that what you are doing? Using me like a whore?
How is this not obvious to her? But I continue to play the game.
Michael:I only said it, I don’t think that.
I do think that.
Michael:I am a little too blind at the moment; I have been skiing for a long time.
My words do nothing, not that I really intended for them to. At this point it is just seeing how long I can string her along. Stupid people deserve to be taken advantage of.
Kylie: Okay.
Still dejected, she stands up and walks out the room and up the stairs. I am sure she is going to cry. It wouldn’t be the first time. I tried to give her a little instruction when she was smoking me and she got upset. Women are so emotional. I sit on my throne waiting on Drakz to get there. This binge has taken its toll on me. I feel old. But those investigators came by again, this time blatantly pointing the finger at me. The rest of the details are insignificant, but I am really not too keen on being accused of something. Ashley took Gavin for a few days as I told her I need to “prepare” for my match with Obo the Hobo. I then promptly went into this binge. I didn’t intend for it to be like this. I just wanted an escape from everything for a few hours then that turned to days.
Michael:So typical Kyzer…you silly bastard you.
I am not making much sense at this point. I don’t know if I make it to Sharper Image or not. I am starting to feel strange. I reach for the glass that still sits on the arm of the Throne. It is water. I got lucky there. My heart is pounding still, but something is different. It is more than my mind spinning, I feel like I have ginger ale in my brain. My breathing is becoming more rapid. I look at my couch.
Michael:I need to lie down.
I am cognitive enough to know that my Throne isn’t very comfortable for sleeping. It is made of Iron. I manage to stand up. I am a little wobbly at first but I gain my balance. My couch lies 15 feet away. I take one step. I take another. Then it hits and I fall out. The last thing I remember before everything goes black is smelling that hookah then realizing that I just fell into it.
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There is an innate problem with smug bungholes. They think they see all the angles. They are so confident in their “abilities” that they refuse to believe that they could be anything less than absolutely correct. Then when it comes time for them to accept that they aren’t right, they snap. They can’t see through their own ego and ineptitude to see that they could have prevented everything, if only they saw that twist…that turn.
Obo thinks that he has me at a disadvantage in this match.
I am never at a disadvantage.
With just being Kyzer, it makes me the favorite every time. Barbwire ropes, no disqualification, no interference, bring all your little toys. I am going to shred you and your pathetic career across those ropes. I am f~cking murder you in the middle of the ring. It is going to be historic. Nothing you have experienced before this will compare with what I am going to bring to the table.
I will beat you at your own game.
And when I do crush you, when you are staring up at me, you will tell the world…
Michael Kyzer is the greatest…
You will proclaim that I have beaten you in every way.
You will be my bitch again.
The smugness you exhibited on the last Loaded was the trigger that was needed to send us on this path. I would have been content with letting you walk and you just accepting you place in this world. But you had to continue. You had to try and rise above your station.
It is about time I just put you down. I have every intention of doing just that. You will understand what I am capable of.
And it can be a message to all these other bungholes who seem to be returning as of late. They all need to remember that they can’t do what I did when I returned. Only Kyzer can cut through the promotion in a matter of weeks. Anyone who has eyes on me should think again.
Watch what I do to Phillip Schneider, Obo the Hobo, The King of Gore, The Ash Prophet…watch as he is torn asunder by me. Take it as a message to those who seek to rise above their lot in life. There is a f~cking pecking order around here.
Respect it.
The New Epoch stands above the ceiling that holds everyone else down. I understand their jealousy. It is a scary thing when the three most dangerous, the best wrestlers come together. We are pure winners. Everyone else is on the outside looking and that is the way we would have it. We completely endorse elitism and the caste system. There needs to be some sense of order around this place. Xavier Pierce has done little to show he is a capable boss.
This pay per view, It’s Super Effective, will be where we shine. The New Epoch will come out victorious in every situation. Then that is when the real fun will be had. With the death of the Hobo, Drakz gaining some gold himself, and David smashing in someone’s face, we will have the focus of everyone. They will have no choice but to fall into line and while we do what we do.
Michael Kyzer can’t be beaten, defeated or destroyed. I am an entity that exists beyond the reach of mortal men. I am the God of F~ck.
You can’t kill God.
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Obsession
2/12/2012, 1:37pm
I can smell the foul hookah water. That would make sense since I have my face in it. I roll over to my back. I remember feeling bubbles in my head and then crash. I lift my head up and check for any wounds that I would actually need to tend. Luckily I escaped getting cut by the broken glass.
Michael:Motherf~cker!!!
I feel a little better from that. I pull myself up to a sitting position and my head immediately spins. I feel as if I am going to vomit. I move away from the foul odor of the broken hookah and crawl to my couch. It is a pathetic scene to see a God in such a state. A knock on my door briefly distracts me from my misfortunes. I can feel that itch for another line. I have a f~cking panic attack and all I can think of is doing another line.
Michael:I have a f~cking problem.
Did I just say that? Before I can reflect on the ramifications of that declaration, my front door opens and Drakz walks in. I am only relieved that he didn’t show up five minutes before. I do not want to explain that to him. He is all smiles as he just walks in as if he is somebody special. Smuggy c~nt.
Drakz:Wow, mate. You alright?
I throw my lips up in semblance of my trademark grin. I don’t want him to know that I had a panic attack and now I can’t stop fiending for some more yack. Get your sh~t together Michael.
Michael:I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention and tripped. I hit the table and knocked the hookah on the ground.
Hopefully he doesn’t go over there and inspect closer. I think I smell some mold. My house is rotting from this binge. This binge was not a good one. Typically if I plan on going all nuclear like this it is because of a celebratory type thing. This was done out of frustration with the current state of things, the present. Having to change my very being for someone else, for my son, that isn’t an easy thing for me. I have such an ego that it doesn’t like to give way for something or someone else.
Drakz:Alright brother. Well get yourself together so we can go hit up Sharper Image, they got a sale.
Have I slipped into the twilight zone? At what point in my bender did I agree to such a thing, that doesn’t sound like me.
Michael:What?
Drakz:We are going to outfit the lair mate. You don’t remember? This was your idea. You wanted to outfit it with premium things. You sure you alright?
I really have no clue.
Michael:Yeah I am. Just give me a minute I need to get cleaned up.
Kylie comes prancing down the stairs at that moment, completely clothed. She still looks sullen from our conversation earlier. Drakz looks down in his hand and realizes he has something.
Drakz:This was by your door. It looks like your Rolling Stone interview. You didn’t make the cover though. Some ugly cow and three dudes did.
He holds it but Kylie grabs it first. I could care less. I remember what was said in there I don’t need to relive that little sh~t being disrespectful. I really feel the itch. My nose is going crazy. It cries for some more. I look around for my stash. I scan the room without being obvious about it.
Drakz:What in the world have you been doing here? This place has seen better days.
I look up at him. I hear his words, but I can give myself permission to answer. I don’t know what has gone on honestly. The longer I stay awake and coked out of my mind, the more I don’t remember. I am sure they are vile things that most people would be revolted by.
Michael:Kylie I guess.
She looks up at me from my Throne. I guess she heard me say her name because her head jerked up fast. I think I can see water building up in her eyes. I am so messed up that I could very well be wrong. That is when it hits me. I got a ball tucked away behind my mirror in my bathroom.
Kylie: What the fu…
She can’t get the words out. She is trembling. I don’t have the slightest idea what her problem is. I thought she made peace as my slut.
Kylie: You have zero intention to train me?
What?
Michael:What?
She drops the magazine as she stands. Drakz is still standing watching this, from his expression he is cognitive enough to understand what is going on. I wish he would give me a notion.
Kylie: You son of a bitch. You have me f~ck you only to lead me on! I have to read in a magazine that you are going to crush my dreams! What the f~ck is wrong with you?
Drakz laughs, inappropriately I may add.
Drakz:What is wrong with you, little girl, getting so bent out of shape about something so trivial?
She glares towards him. I am still piecing things together in my drug addled mind.
Kylie: He crushed my dreams; he has just used me as a slut.
That wasn’t the only reason. But I forget them now. She is pretty much right. But her tone makes me feel as if I should defend myself from such accusations despite the truth in them.
Michael:You were the one who lacks any perception to see that she was being led on.
I find myself standing. I have coke fueled adrenaline running through my veins. I am THE GOD OF F~CK!!!
Michael:You see you once associated yourself with Obo. Why in the world would you think that I would train his throwaway into a wrestler? I really just wanted to see why he would throw you away. You are cute on the outside, but you lack any intelligence. The cute dumb slutty thing stops being interesting after the second bad blow job. But I still gave you a chance. You couldn’t seem to grasp that you need to coddle the balls more. But when you failed even that, I just gave up on you. Then it just became a game of seeing how long I could turn you out before you either broke or split.
Drakz:I figured you would split honestly. You seemed to have a strong will and cunning. Especially after you were so willing to turn on that hobo.
I am the God of F~ck. I will destroy everything around me.
Michael:But now you are tainted darling. Once you have been embraced by the cloth of Kyzer, you have become ostracized by everyone else. Your only family becomes the ones within the fold also. And now you are on the outside. You are on the outside of this family and the rest of the wrestling world. I can’t lie and say I am sorry about bringing everything down around you. You let Obo stick his dick in you. I should have had you stoned to death.
She is utterly destroyed and ruined before me. Tears streak her face. She is sobbing uncontrollably. Drakz stands next to me, devoid of sympathy. I just look on the shell that was Kylie Olsen. She suddenly darts towards me. I step aside and she flies past without touching me. She shoots up the stairs. I can hear the faint crying. I look around at Drakz who just smiles.
Drakz:Get yourself together man. We need to go.
And like that we both move on with our lives. I no longer have the anger infused power of cocaine sending me into a rage. I can only think of that ball behind my mirror. I nod and don’t say a word as I walk past him and up my stairs. Cocaine. Cocaine. Cocaine. Cocaine. I am in front of several lines cut up on the counter of my sink. I vaguely remember the last two minutes. I just look at the lines. They call for my nose. Something catches my eye. I turn around and find Kylie in my bathtub. I feel like I am seeing things. Blood streaks down the side of the tube, as she lies limply in it. I turn back around and give in to my nose’s cries. Suddenly I feel as if everything is better. I leave the rest of the lines on the counter and leave the bathroom. I need a clean shirt if I am going to Sharper Image.
I went trophy fishing.
That was 5, 6 years ago…Now the little hobo has grown a sack and finally clawed his way to the top. He managed to even have his own world title reign after I left. Beating no one doesn’t make him a champion; I proved that the good Reverend was pathetic long before he ever bested him.
Now he has been on this tear, beating all about the worthless sh~ts they throw in front of him. Well except for Hutton Brown who seemed to make the hobo his bitch.
None of this impresses me. None of this makes a difference in the way I perceive you. They say first impressions are everything. You will never be more than that hobo that was starving for fame, the tool who attempted to grab fame in cheap hardcore matches that no one cared about.
Obo…
Or Phillip Schneider…
Can I call you Phil? I know I said I would never call you by your Jew name, but who are you…Chuck Lorre?
You might think that you have changed or grown since your debut, you might think that you have established yourself as this unique persona in our world, unfortunately for your precious heart you have failed. And failed miserably at that. You can tout your accomplishments, but your greatest claim to fame came around when I wasn’t here, Drakz wasn’t around, David Brennan wasn’t on the scene yet. So who could you have possibly beaten that could give you credibility? There is only one answer for this question and I am thinking that the answer is pretty obvious.
No one….
You have beaten no one of note…ever. You couldn’t beat Hutton Brown. It isn’t like you hold a victory over EBR at Super Brawl. It isn’t like you tore through every legend of a fallen generation when you came into the WFWF. Was it you who returned and leapfrogged to the top? Yeah...that was me. You returned Christmas 2010. I returned September 2011. And yet you look up to me.
Why is that Phil? Why is it I can do everything you can do but better? I know I f~ck better; we have some common ground there. I have beaten you once already. Or did that escape you while you indulged in your autoerotic asphyxiation fetish? Did you forget that David Carradine? I know I am more cunning or it would have been you closing out Super Brawl. But you were too busy getting your ass pumped by Hutton.
So Phil, let’s take a practical look at our situation…
I came back, stole your thunder, leapfrogged you to the top, won the World Heavyweight Title, and then to make my life even better I end up with a little slice of Kylie Pie. I will give you props on that one, son. She’s a tight one. But back to the discussion at hand, I have everything it seems. I forgot to mention that I also managed to put together the most elite little group possible. You have what? Percy? Didn’t he used to be my bitch boy when I was running the WFWF? I guess I taught him good if he is running your life.
Some would say that you are desperate…
Are you Phil? Phil, are you desperate? Are you feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders? It is a David and Goliath type situation we have here. You are David and I am Goliath. You think you can be clutch like David was? Or are you going to be another LeBron James?
You feel the weight, the pressure, the stress that comes with being in your situation. It is only normal when a guy who has a sh~t life comes face to face with something better than he could ever aspire to feel nervous or scared. You can try and mask it behind anger and threats of revenge. But I see the tears bro.
It’s cool if you cry…Everyone already thinks you have a vagina…
You are a desperate rat. You are backed into a corner. You could try and argue that will make you prone to unpredictability, but that is absolutely impossible. You are one hundred percent predictable. You are like every other generic niche wrestler out there. You are a worthless sh~t who panders to the lowest common denominator by using hardcore gimmick matches as masks. You have to hide your lack of talent behind skewers, barb wire, glass panes and buckets of your own blood.
You are a f~cking joke…Everyone is laughing at you…Turn around….
This little game that you want to have with me is going to end. It is going to end with you crying that you lost. Here is a little advice I have picked up in this world…
Losers lose….
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On A Night Like This
1/25/12, 7:32pm
“I am living in a den of hedonism. I am sitting amongst the filth of the world, junkies, hookers, strippers and all sorts of life right? I am surrounded by drugs and alcohol. It is a f~cking orgy that you can’t even describe. The depravity of it would make a normal turn sick. I am the King of Disgust, Filth, Sex, Excess, Drugs and Everything Else That Is Evil. Isn’t that how the world perceives me right? I am the Epitome of Evil, Vileness and Immoral Acts. That is the way everyone sees me right? I guess I can’t argue with it. I have never really given anyone to believe anything else. I do think it is embellished slightly as people tend to do when are jealous of someone. “[/i]
I realized that I needed some good publicity. I don’t know why I would bother with such a thing but I felt compelled. Maybe it was because of the role I have recently adapted as the face of the WFWF. After I stole the spotlight from that lesser guy, I forget his name; I became the top dog in the WFWF. Naturally that puts me as the poster boy of the company that I so love. More than likely it is because I am the prime suspect in an arson investigation and possible disappearance of baby mama number two. Rather than ponder why, let’s just get to the point. I, the beloved Michael Kyzer, sit in the LA offices of Rolling Stone Magazine. I am in this swanky place in my effort to generate some positivity around The Kyzerman. In this room of modern style décor, a man named Ed Taylor sits across from me.
Ed: So…how do I interpret that? I asked you how you were doing tonight.
He looks at me through his dreads. I have this feeling that Rolling Stone doesn’t take me seriously when they send a white guy with dreads to interview me. Not only that, he is wearing a blue Fila track suit. What kind of f~cking troll looks like that? Ed Taylor does. I would fire my agent if I knew who that was. I just remember saying that I should do an interview or something to help my image and here I am. It was almost like I made it happen with my superpowers. Maybe I am evolving or something like the X-Men?
Michael:I just thought it sounded pretty cool. I guess it really doesn’t answer your question. But you know, I am good. I am a little miffed by your organization at the person I am being interviewed by.
He looks like he is taken back and offended by my comments.
Michael:I mean bro, you have dreads…you are white. You look ridiculous, I feel like Rolling Stone doesn’t really think too highly of me.
Ed: I actually asked for this job…and now regret it. Where do you get the stones to question my appearance? You are a f~cking junkie. You look like sh~t yourself sir.
He probably has a point there.
Michael:Touché.
Ed: Should I continue or is there something else asinine you might want to say?
I apparently upset the troll. I am not too fond of the harshness in his voice. But being the nice guy I am, I will let it go. I take a puff off the blunt…did I not mention that? Oh yes, the entire time I have been toking on the kush like a badass. I blow some smoke Ed’s way, he looks more agitated. I offer him the blunt.
Ed: I was wondering when you would stop being a rude asshat and would share.
Asshat? He just ripped me off. Dick.
Michael:You need to get to the questions. I don’t think I like you.
He just shrugs as he hits my blunt. That sounds inappropriate.
Ed: So as I said, I asked for this job. I have been a fan of wrestling since I was a kid and working here at Rolling Stone, I don’t get a whole lot of opportunities to interview them unless they crossover or something.
I can’t get past this kid’s appearance. It evokes the anger emotion.
Ed: Needless to say, I have followed your career.
Well that just stroked the ego. Again, that sounds inappropriate.
Ed: I am not a fan.
F~ck you too.
Ed: What I am wondering though is, why have you chosen to give this interview? You aren’t exactly known to have good relations with the media after a filmmaker died making a documentary on you.
Michael:That was so 2006.
Ed: And that was the last real interaction you have had with the media outside of wrestling.
That is because I hate people like you.
Michael:I don’t hate you people or anything, I have just been busy.
Ed: And now you aren’t “busy”?
He throws up air quotes like a pompous douchebag.
Michael:Pretty much.
Ed: So what changed? Why this interview? Why give us the time of day? You are well known for your ego, your lifestyle, and your lack of disregard for pretty much everything and everyone. You are pretty much the most despicable person on the planet. I mean you are at the level that people might even cheer when you die from that inevitable overdose.
Wow. That was really mean.
Michael:Any other feelings about me you want to share?
Ed: Hey you started it with making fun of the dreads. These get me laid.
Maybe by 200lbs meat curtains, but not by anything I would f~ck with Obo’s dick.
Michael:I will assume by some form of livestock. But to the question, I realized that I needed a change in image. Or at least one with some slight positivity and it never hurts to promote an upcoming event.
Nice, don’t give away any hint that you could be in the crosshairs of the law. You are doing well, Michael.
Ed: Care to elaborate on the “needed a change in image”?
There are those air quotes again.
Michael:I think you pretty much covered it in your scathing critique of me.
Ed: So you want to become more liked?
Michael:Sure. Let’s go with that.
Ed: What else are you doing in this endeavor? Are you doing charity work or anything else?
I pretty much figured the interview would be enough.
Michael:Are you being serious?
Ed: I’ll take that as a no. So you whole plan to improve your image was just to have one interview?
Michael:The interview is just a start. I have a plan.
I don’t have a plan.
Ed: You care to share that?
Michael:…No.
He doesn’t say anything for a long minute. He is not making this easy for me. What kind of a reporter is this?
Ed: Let’s move on to something else. It looks like the WFWF is having a pay per view coming up that you are in the main event, it’s called It’s Super Effective…what kind of name is that for a wrestling event?
Michael:Yeah, it is pretty lame.
Ed: So you face off with Phillip Schneider for the World Heavyweight Title, are you nervous?
Michael:What kind of f~cking question is that? That is the question you have regarding my match with the Jew? What kind of reporter are you?
Ed: You are my first interview.
I don’t want your virginity kid.
Michael:I don’t want your virginity kid.
Ed: What?
I want to punch this kid in the throat. Then I want to do it again.
Michael:I am not nervous for my match. I am never nervous. That would mean I felt like I could lose the match. I don’t lose.
Ed: So you don’t think that Schneider could beat you?
Michael:I don’t lose.
Ed: You have a lot confidence.
Michael:Why not? Just look at the two of us? I am superior in every way. And did I mention I don’t lose?
I wonder if this guy has autism. Maybe like a high functioning version, that would explain why he is such a piece of sh~t and idiot all in one. Not that everyone with autism are those things.
Michael:I am going to bury the Jew.
Ed: The match you are taking part in favors Schneider as he has taken part in some of the most brutal battles in the history of the WFWF. That doesn’t bring you any concern at all?
Michael:I have had my share of violent matches. I had my match with Reverend Shadow where I crucified him. I had matches in other promotions. While I may not have the lengthy resume in the WFWF like the Jew does or really care for these types of matches, I have experience in this situation. And I will do what I always do. I will win. I don’t care what he does. It won’t be enough; no one has gotten the best of me in my career. It won’t begin now.
Ed: Why do you keep referring to Schneider as the Jew?
I find the blunt in my hand. I inhale deeply, taking in the smoke. Why do I refer to him as the Jew? Could it be because he doesn’t deserve to be called by his name? Could it be because he is a worthless piece of trash that should be happy I am even acknowledging him? Or is it simply because I am lazy and he is a Jew? Yes.
Michael:Because the hobo suddenly got identity doesn’t mean I have to recognize it with a proper name. F~ck him. It took him what 3 years to accomplish what I did in less than a year. Then I return and leapfrog him again. What does that tell you Ed?
Ed looks at me as he merely shakes his head. Really? It isn’t that obvious?
Michael:Bro, it is obvious that I am better than him. I have already beaten him once. And now he comes yapping for a shot at the title. He finally worked his way up. Actually I guess you could say he failed upwards as he lost to Hutton Brown and then magically was named number one contender by our new boss.
Ed: I guess that is one way to look at it. So you have recently taken in Schneider’s former student Kylie Olsen, how goes her training under you?
There are so many jokes with that one.
Michael:Training?
Ed: Word is she came to you for training since Schneider dumped her as his student.
Michael:Oh yeah…I forgot about that. She wants me to train her. Honestly I have got better things to do. I have no intention of teaching her anything except how to blow me better. That is one thing that Schneider obviously didn’t give her any instruction on. She can be a little too aggressive.
Ed: I don’t need to know more about that. So you aren’t going to train her? Is that her dream?
Michael:I don’t know, it isn’t like I have had a conversation with this girl. She is pretty much there for me to f~ck at this point. The point with her has been made and her use is quickly ending.
Ed: Have you told her any of this?
Michael:Why would I do that?
Ed: Because that is a horrible thing you are doing. You are leading her on only for her dreams to get crushed. That doesn’t register as a bad thing?
Michael:It doesn’t really concern me, so I don’t really see a reason to show it any interest.
Ed: You realize that in this interview you have done the complete opposite that you set out to do. There is absolutely nothing positive in this interview. There is no way to spin this in your favor. When this goes to print, this girl’s life will be crushed.
Well this has been a waste of time then. I think it is time to leave. This little sh~t isn’t going to do me any favors here with this story. I guess I have forgotten how to put on a face for trolls like this. I am out of practice. Oh well. F~ck it.
Michael:F~ck it. We all can’t be good guys.
I toss the blunt at him and leave the offices like the badass I am. F~ck making over my image. I just need to build some character references in case this investigation goes any further. Or least that is what my lawyer told me to do. Now, I need to go fire my agent for this little farce here.
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Come Into My World
2/12/2012, 1:15pm
My head hurts. It is the type of headache you get from staying up too long, when you mind starts spinning. This binge has been 82hrs. As I get older, I find myself unable to do the same things I could in my 20’s. 5 years ago, I would be good to go; I am starting to feel my age. It doesn’t help anything when I got that annoying little voice chirping in my ear. That bitch is really wearing on my patience. I look over at her naked body lain across my couch. I f~cked her into a coma about an hour ago. I finally got some peace. I look across my living room from my Throne and find myself disgusted with what I see. Besides the naked woman on the couch, there are clothes strewn about, large amounts of paraphernalia. At some point I broke my hookah and just left it on the floor, the smell from it permeates the room. It isn’t good either. I see multiple condoms just haphazardly thrown around the room.
Michael:This is disgusting.
I have done so much coke in the last 3 plus days that I can’t remember much of what has happened. Even now I struggle to remember anything in the last 12 hours or so. I look at the white line on the arm of my Throne. It calls for my nose, but I resist…I can feel my heart pound…there is a slight pain…it is sharp though…my fingers and toes curl…pounding…pain…but I love it…the pain, it hits my pleasure centers.
Michael:I am at the precipice.
My head is so scrambled I speak without meaning to. This is the edge, this is the point that I strive to hit every time. It is that moment where you know if you do another line, you will overdose. I have overdosed before, so I have gotten pretty good about hitting my target. I lean back and seek pleasure in what most people wouldn’t understand. My pocket vibrates and I become aware that I have pants on. I didn’t realize that I was dressed, well wearing pants at least. It continues to vibe as I try to work my tweaker hand into my pocket. I pull out my phone and try to read who is calling me. I have become illiterate. The letters just look like a word jumble.
Michael:Yeah?
My cotton mouth makes even that a difficult task. I look around and find a glass of some liquid on the other arm of my throne. I am really out of it. I could be hitting a wall here very soon.
Drakz:Yo, man you there?
It is Drakz I think. He is the only Welshman I know. My eyes are spinning in my head, I feel the need to take the line in hopes it gives me a clear head at least for a moment. But then I could overdose again…what would Michael Kyzer do right now? I really do ask myself that.
Drakz:Hey, Michael, you there? I can hear something mate.
I stare at the line, contemplate my future, say f~ck it and snort that bad boy up. I feel my senses return for a slight moment. It is that brief moment of clarity you get when you first feel that sh~t go up your nose.
Michael:Yeah, I’m here. Sorry about that. You caught me at a bad time. What’s up?
Drakz:I am on my over to pick you up.
I have zero idea what he is talking about.
Michael:What are you talking about?
Drakz:We were going to go to Sharper Image and to outfit our lair.
Lair? Sharper Image? What the f~ck is he talking about?
Drakz:Get ready mate, I’ll be there in 15.
He hangs up. I am confused but my mind starts spinning again, I am having a hard time remembering when I made plans with him. But I guess he is on his way over now. Kylie rolls over on the couch and opens one eye.
Kylie: Who was that?
I look at her. Her question registers in my brain. I tell my mouth to answer but it doesn’t obey. Speak.
Michael:Speak.
Jesus…I am f~cked up.
Kylie: What?
Michael:That was Drakz. He is on his way over.
Kylie: Hey, can you talk to him about my training? I really want to get back to it. I think I can really get far with your tutelage.
Why?
Michael:I’ll try to bring it up. I am waiting for the right moment. There has been a lot going on and I am not trying to add any distractions.
I am surprised at myself for being able to get that out.
Kylie: I know. I just think I can be a real asset. After some training, I could help you all out and stuff. I just want to do more than just what I am.
Michael:You mean you are tired of being used like a whore?
She shrinks back at the remark as if it hit home. She sits up and pulls herself into a ball. I can see that I hurt her feelings with that remark. I am snow blind right now; I could care less if I hurt her feelings. Grow up.
Kylie: That wasn’t a nice way to put it.
Michael:And how would you put it?
She doesn’t say anything for a moment, just sits there looking down at the floor. She reminds me of someone on Law and Order: SVU, like someone who was abused or something. But I haven’t laid a hand on her except her ass and that was in the heat of the moment.
Kylie: I don’t know but not like that.
It is the truth. I have been using this girl since she showed up on my doorstep. She is only now catching on.
Kylie: Is that what you are doing? Using me like a whore?
How is this not obvious to her? But I continue to play the game.
Michael:I only said it, I don’t think that.
I do think that.
Michael:I am a little too blind at the moment; I have been skiing for a long time.
My words do nothing, not that I really intended for them to. At this point it is just seeing how long I can string her along. Stupid people deserve to be taken advantage of.
Kylie: Okay.
Still dejected, she stands up and walks out the room and up the stairs. I am sure she is going to cry. It wouldn’t be the first time. I tried to give her a little instruction when she was smoking me and she got upset. Women are so emotional. I sit on my throne waiting on Drakz to get there. This binge has taken its toll on me. I feel old. But those investigators came by again, this time blatantly pointing the finger at me. The rest of the details are insignificant, but I am really not too keen on being accused of something. Ashley took Gavin for a few days as I told her I need to “prepare” for my match with Obo the Hobo. I then promptly went into this binge. I didn’t intend for it to be like this. I just wanted an escape from everything for a few hours then that turned to days.
Michael:So typical Kyzer…you silly bastard you.
I am not making much sense at this point. I don’t know if I make it to Sharper Image or not. I am starting to feel strange. I reach for the glass that still sits on the arm of the Throne. It is water. I got lucky there. My heart is pounding still, but something is different. It is more than my mind spinning, I feel like I have ginger ale in my brain. My breathing is becoming more rapid. I look at my couch.
Michael:I need to lie down.
I am cognitive enough to know that my Throne isn’t very comfortable for sleeping. It is made of Iron. I manage to stand up. I am a little wobbly at first but I gain my balance. My couch lies 15 feet away. I take one step. I take another. Then it hits and I fall out. The last thing I remember before everything goes black is smelling that hookah then realizing that I just fell into it.
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There is an innate problem with smug bungholes. They think they see all the angles. They are so confident in their “abilities” that they refuse to believe that they could be anything less than absolutely correct. Then when it comes time for them to accept that they aren’t right, they snap. They can’t see through their own ego and ineptitude to see that they could have prevented everything, if only they saw that twist…that turn.
Obo thinks that he has me at a disadvantage in this match.
I am never at a disadvantage.
With just being Kyzer, it makes me the favorite every time. Barbwire ropes, no disqualification, no interference, bring all your little toys. I am going to shred you and your pathetic career across those ropes. I am f~cking murder you in the middle of the ring. It is going to be historic. Nothing you have experienced before this will compare with what I am going to bring to the table.
I will beat you at your own game.
And when I do crush you, when you are staring up at me, you will tell the world…
Michael Kyzer is the greatest…
You will proclaim that I have beaten you in every way.
You will be my bitch again.
The smugness you exhibited on the last Loaded was the trigger that was needed to send us on this path. I would have been content with letting you walk and you just accepting you place in this world. But you had to continue. You had to try and rise above your station.
It is about time I just put you down. I have every intention of doing just that. You will understand what I am capable of.
And it can be a message to all these other bungholes who seem to be returning as of late. They all need to remember that they can’t do what I did when I returned. Only Kyzer can cut through the promotion in a matter of weeks. Anyone who has eyes on me should think again.
Watch what I do to Phillip Schneider, Obo the Hobo, The King of Gore, The Ash Prophet…watch as he is torn asunder by me. Take it as a message to those who seek to rise above their lot in life. There is a f~cking pecking order around here.
Respect it.
The New Epoch stands above the ceiling that holds everyone else down. I understand their jealousy. It is a scary thing when the three most dangerous, the best wrestlers come together. We are pure winners. Everyone else is on the outside looking and that is the way we would have it. We completely endorse elitism and the caste system. There needs to be some sense of order around this place. Xavier Pierce has done little to show he is a capable boss.
This pay per view, It’s Super Effective, will be where we shine. The New Epoch will come out victorious in every situation. Then that is when the real fun will be had. With the death of the Hobo, Drakz gaining some gold himself, and David smashing in someone’s face, we will have the focus of everyone. They will have no choice but to fall into line and while we do what we do.
Michael Kyzer can’t be beaten, defeated or destroyed. I am an entity that exists beyond the reach of mortal men. I am the God of F~ck.
You can’t kill God.
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Obsession
2/12/2012, 1:37pm
I can smell the foul hookah water. That would make sense since I have my face in it. I roll over to my back. I remember feeling bubbles in my head and then crash. I lift my head up and check for any wounds that I would actually need to tend. Luckily I escaped getting cut by the broken glass.
Michael:Motherf~cker!!!
I feel a little better from that. I pull myself up to a sitting position and my head immediately spins. I feel as if I am going to vomit. I move away from the foul odor of the broken hookah and crawl to my couch. It is a pathetic scene to see a God in such a state. A knock on my door briefly distracts me from my misfortunes. I can feel that itch for another line. I have a f~cking panic attack and all I can think of is doing another line.
Michael:I have a f~cking problem.
Did I just say that? Before I can reflect on the ramifications of that declaration, my front door opens and Drakz walks in. I am only relieved that he didn’t show up five minutes before. I do not want to explain that to him. He is all smiles as he just walks in as if he is somebody special. Smuggy c~nt.
Drakz:Wow, mate. You alright?
I throw my lips up in semblance of my trademark grin. I don’t want him to know that I had a panic attack and now I can’t stop fiending for some more yack. Get your sh~t together Michael.
Michael:I’m fine. I wasn’t paying attention and tripped. I hit the table and knocked the hookah on the ground.
Hopefully he doesn’t go over there and inspect closer. I think I smell some mold. My house is rotting from this binge. This binge was not a good one. Typically if I plan on going all nuclear like this it is because of a celebratory type thing. This was done out of frustration with the current state of things, the present. Having to change my very being for someone else, for my son, that isn’t an easy thing for me. I have such an ego that it doesn’t like to give way for something or someone else.
Drakz:Alright brother. Well get yourself together so we can go hit up Sharper Image, they got a sale.
Have I slipped into the twilight zone? At what point in my bender did I agree to such a thing, that doesn’t sound like me.
Michael:What?
Drakz:We are going to outfit the lair mate. You don’t remember? This was your idea. You wanted to outfit it with premium things. You sure you alright?
I really have no clue.
Michael:Yeah I am. Just give me a minute I need to get cleaned up.
Kylie comes prancing down the stairs at that moment, completely clothed. She still looks sullen from our conversation earlier. Drakz looks down in his hand and realizes he has something.
Drakz:This was by your door. It looks like your Rolling Stone interview. You didn’t make the cover though. Some ugly cow and three dudes did.
He holds it but Kylie grabs it first. I could care less. I remember what was said in there I don’t need to relive that little sh~t being disrespectful. I really feel the itch. My nose is going crazy. It cries for some more. I look around for my stash. I scan the room without being obvious about it.
Drakz:What in the world have you been doing here? This place has seen better days.
I look up at him. I hear his words, but I can give myself permission to answer. I don’t know what has gone on honestly. The longer I stay awake and coked out of my mind, the more I don’t remember. I am sure they are vile things that most people would be revolted by.
Michael:Kylie I guess.
She looks up at me from my Throne. I guess she heard me say her name because her head jerked up fast. I think I can see water building up in her eyes. I am so messed up that I could very well be wrong. That is when it hits me. I got a ball tucked away behind my mirror in my bathroom.
Kylie: What the fu…
She can’t get the words out. She is trembling. I don’t have the slightest idea what her problem is. I thought she made peace as my slut.
Kylie: You have zero intention to train me?
What?
Michael:What?
She drops the magazine as she stands. Drakz is still standing watching this, from his expression he is cognitive enough to understand what is going on. I wish he would give me a notion.
Kylie: You son of a bitch. You have me f~ck you only to lead me on! I have to read in a magazine that you are going to crush my dreams! What the f~ck is wrong with you?
Drakz laughs, inappropriately I may add.
Drakz:What is wrong with you, little girl, getting so bent out of shape about something so trivial?
She glares towards him. I am still piecing things together in my drug addled mind.
Kylie: He crushed my dreams; he has just used me as a slut.
That wasn’t the only reason. But I forget them now. She is pretty much right. But her tone makes me feel as if I should defend myself from such accusations despite the truth in them.
Michael:You were the one who lacks any perception to see that she was being led on.
I find myself standing. I have coke fueled adrenaline running through my veins. I am THE GOD OF F~CK!!!
Michael:You see you once associated yourself with Obo. Why in the world would you think that I would train his throwaway into a wrestler? I really just wanted to see why he would throw you away. You are cute on the outside, but you lack any intelligence. The cute dumb slutty thing stops being interesting after the second bad blow job. But I still gave you a chance. You couldn’t seem to grasp that you need to coddle the balls more. But when you failed even that, I just gave up on you. Then it just became a game of seeing how long I could turn you out before you either broke or split.
Drakz:I figured you would split honestly. You seemed to have a strong will and cunning. Especially after you were so willing to turn on that hobo.
I am the God of F~ck. I will destroy everything around me.
Michael:But now you are tainted darling. Once you have been embraced by the cloth of Kyzer, you have become ostracized by everyone else. Your only family becomes the ones within the fold also. And now you are on the outside. You are on the outside of this family and the rest of the wrestling world. I can’t lie and say I am sorry about bringing everything down around you. You let Obo stick his dick in you. I should have had you stoned to death.
She is utterly destroyed and ruined before me. Tears streak her face. She is sobbing uncontrollably. Drakz stands next to me, devoid of sympathy. I just look on the shell that was Kylie Olsen. She suddenly darts towards me. I step aside and she flies past without touching me. She shoots up the stairs. I can hear the faint crying. I look around at Drakz who just smiles.
Drakz:Get yourself together man. We need to go.
And like that we both move on with our lives. I no longer have the anger infused power of cocaine sending me into a rage. I can only think of that ball behind my mirror. I nod and don’t say a word as I walk past him and up my stairs. Cocaine. Cocaine. Cocaine. Cocaine. I am in front of several lines cut up on the counter of my sink. I vaguely remember the last two minutes. I just look at the lines. They call for my nose. Something catches my eye. I turn around and find Kylie in my bathtub. I feel like I am seeing things. Blood streaks down the side of the tube, as she lies limply in it. I turn back around and give in to my nose’s cries. Suddenly I feel as if everything is better. I leave the rest of the lines on the counter and leave the bathroom. I need a clean shirt if I am going to Sharper Image.
