Post by The Gangsta on Jun 4, 2015 16:46:08 GMT -5
Ante Whitner RP
A Lord and his Apprentice
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Somewhere hidden in the valley of kings, a soul, glistening over the dark red sand, slowly fades away. His dying light leaves a black residue on the blood-stained sand. His hand reaches out for help, but falls slowly down without any sign of resurgence.
His other hand lies gently on the crown he once tightly held. As his wounds dissect the remaining soul of the once-feared king, a woman from the distance walks over his broken body
She smiles at the fallen king. That deadly smile slowly puckers up and kisses his cold, dead, lips. She steals his last breath that he was once promised. She leans over, picks up the bloodied crown, places it upon her head, laughs, and returns to her throne in the land far away.
The soul falls back down. The sand floods into his bones and his brain. He was once a man, a king, now only a mere lobotomized carcass. His eyes slowly shut as he gazes at the stars and the galaxies that lay beyond this one. He smiles and fades away from existence.
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Back in his former kingdom, the king’s name is erased from history. The woman who held the crown before him has now rightfully regained her power. The same power that corrupted the fallen king. But, this power was different.
This power unleashed a fury of red and black upon her newly conquered land. Perhaps it was a certain demon she summoned, or a certain lord returning for his poise. No one knew for sure. The only one who held the answer was the fallen king.
Attempting to realize the sheer significance of this summoning, bright pink and neon colors surge into the night sky as if a supernova had suddenly exploded adjacent to the land. If this was the summoning of a demon, the colors of red and black would’ve remained.
The people look up to the sky to see this euphoria of bright lights and wonders. They feel their minds slowly adjusting to this new way of life. The queen smiles as well. She became a zombie to this experience, feeding the greater vehicle. Perhaps the king wasn’t truly dead yet.
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Ante Whitner’s Apartment
Seattle, Washington
5/13/15
Kyzer: Knock, knock, Ante.
Michael Kyzer. The man, the myth, the legend. A god with the intentions of becoming the ideal addict. “The Addict’s Icon,” is one of the many names he calls himself. Kyzer does what he wants whenever he wants. He doesn’t follow rules. He only breaks them.
Ante: Yeah, Mike. You know it’s kinda late for this sh*t, right?
I peer through the peephole at one in the morning at a stoned freak looking for his redemption. It was only a few weeks ago that I had officially met him. Now, we’re on the road to redemption together. This time, for the tag-team titles.
Kyzer: Open up p*ssy, I got somethin’ to tell ya.
I slowly turn the knob to let him in. Donnie has told me not to trust him. Should I just completely ignore Donnie’s advice? Maybe I’m just a debt to Donnie’s priceless advice.
Ante: What is it Mike? Is it about the sh*tholes of society?
Mike shuts the door and lights a cig.
Kyzer: Lemme clear my mind first. And yes, it’s mainly about the p*ssy who failed to conquer my land.
Ante: Oh, c’mon. Don’t be an assh*le about it. I lost and…
Mike inhales the smoke in a loud and obnoxious manner. He laughs a bit and looks at the picture of my victory at Men and Monsters.
Kyzer: Look how f*ckin’ happy you were man. You’re a f*ckin’ hog now. When was the last time I took you to the bar?
Ante: Last week Mike. Last week.
Mike’s advice is simple, yet far different from Donnie’s. Let the ecstasy and coke take you away from the problems of the real world. In hindsight, I feel if I become a serious drug addict, like Mike himself, I’ll morph into something I hate. A cum-filled, d*uche-bag, assh*le like Charlie.
Kyzer: F*ck. Man, I need to blow my load on her face.
Ante: Who’s face?
Mike sits down and lights another cig. At this point, he has about three cigs in his mouth at the same time and mumbling under the nicotine rush.
Kyzer: -pulls the cigs out of his mouth- Nikki. I’d bang the living sh*t out of her in the middle of the ring if Trace didn’t own the place.
Ante: Are you facing her at Ascension or somethin’?
Mike laughs and coughs a little.
Kyzer: You’ve danced around with her in the ring. So, did you grab her giant tits and or maybe an ass grab? How does she feel? Too plastic? Or is she f*ckin’ bangin’?
Ante: Haha, you’re f*ckin’ something man.
Mike starts to chuckle.
Kyzer: You see Ante. That’s what I want to do. I want you to get back into the game. Smoke a few cigs, pop some mollies, and after it’s all done, we hold tag-team gold.
He starts to get serious.
Kyzer: But, I have to go through this f*ckin’ cumquat first. And you’re still hot off of your loss.
Ante: Okay, and…
Kyzer: I need you to rustle up the match a bit. Squeeze her tits or somethin’. Just make her pay for what she has done to you. And then, boom! I win, blow my load, and we walk out together.
I start to shake my head and begin to think about my loss at End Game.
Ante: I don’t know, can I…
Kyzer: Don’t be a p*ssy Ante. The game isn’t over yet. I still have more galaxies and planets to conquer. If you ain’t in, this Sith empire won’t grow by itself.
All along I thought the mythical Sith empire was the KoKaine Konspiracy. Aside from not seeing them in weeks, the Sith empire was truly just Mike and I. Sidious and Vader with sex slaves at our command. Ah, the glory.
Kyzer: Think about it. This isn’t just a tag-team created from chance. This is a Sith lord and his Sith apprentice, poised to take over the universe.
I laugh at the sight of galactic warships being commissioned under our commands. The beautiful stars in alignment for the Jedi extinction. Hell, I think the SoS are too far from being Jedis. They’re more like Jar-Jar and his f*ckin’ band of Gungans.
Ante: Perhaps the king isn’t dead yet.
Kyzer: F*ck being a king man. You’re the apprentice of a Sith emperor. It doesn’t get f*ckin’ better than that.
I stand up and look at the picture of a cheerful Ante, holding a National Title above his head. A king was crowned that day. A glorious king.
I then look down at my feet. The same feet that failed to keep me up against Nikki. The feet that collapsed a kingdom.
I proceed to look at my hands. Powerful and strong. An emperor’s hands, forged from the fury of the periphery.
Michael Kyzer and Ante Whitner. Master and Apprentice. Darth Sidious and Darth Vader.
Kyzer: What do you say? Livin’ life in the fast lane. Stealing whores and punching tickets into clits ain’t so much of a bad thing, ain’t it?
I give my trademark grin to the veteran. The emperor himself.
Ante: I’m in. Donnie can wait.
Kyzer: Exactly, that’s what I came here for.
He pats me on the back and lights another cig in my face. He hands me another cig.
Kyzer: Here, clear your mind man. We need to be ready to pull the f*ckin’ strings soon.
I put the cig in my mouth and let the nicotine take me over. I’m a zombie with the intentions of creating an empire no mortal man has ever witnessed.
Living life in the fast lane. Not a bad ring to it.
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The king’s voice shimmered in the distance. His eagle tone was long lost. Instead, the sound of a vulture surfaced. The bright neon lights reveal two astonishing figures. Two kings, resurrected by the strong bond of nicotine and THC oil.
Now, the two kings transformed into two emperors. One with the ultimate dream of conquest and domination and the other fueled with vengeance.
The king with the dream of conquest was referred to the God of F*ck. A god, like a certain Jew who had recently passed on. He was never familiar to the queen, but quite familiar with the overlord, Drakz.
However, the king with vengeance had returned to restore his former glory. He was no longer life. He was now a living death with a mission of feeding on the dead and wreaking havoc upon the living. Once hailed as the Bloodied Eagle, the king was now known as the Messiah of F*ck.
They both advocated F*ck. F*ck itself was an excellent choice in taking down regional leaders, especially with the newly crowned queen. F*ck was a strong force that struck the vaginal region of a woman’s body. F*ck to a queen would most definitely take down the throne.
F*ck approached her. With the God and Messiah looming around her, she was forced to give up. She couldn’t take the sheer abuse of F*ck. It was too strong for her slutty self. As she was about to relinquish her throne, a certain demon appeared.
Known to the God, this demon had uncontrollable power. He had the power to create or destroy whoever he pleased. In the day, he was strictly about business. At night, he was about cruel punishment.
But one question remained, is the queen still in power? What is the mission of this demon? Will the God and his Messiah ever return to their former glory?
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Donnie’s “War Room”
Unknown
After a little talk about going forward, Samael and I were invited to Donnie’s “war room” to discuss the plans moving forward. He briefly talked about a new offensive we’re gonna try out. As I walk into the room, I notice Donnie, Tugarin, and two other midgets all staring at Samael and I with a bit of surprise.
Ante: What are they looking at?
I stare at the two puny little midgets. They look as sly and mischievous as Donnie. I can see why they're here.
DMK: They are plotting a strategy for the war.
Samael moves past me to look at the two midgets and their map.
Samael: Is that a map of the Korean Peninsula?
DMK: Yeah. So?
Korean Penisula? The f*ck, Donnie?
Samael: What does the Korean Peninsula have to do with anything?
DMK: It is the war map. I got it from Kim.
Kim, who? There’s no f*ckin’ way he talked to the dictator himself. Donnie’s brain is out there, but I doubt it's in the hands of the Koreans.
Ante: Who is Kim?
DMK: Kim Jong-un. Do you know another Kim?
Figured he would give me a smart-ass remark in response.
Samael: So, you have a map given to you by the dictator of North Korea?
I look at a card next to the map on the table. It’s a business card for someone called “The Worm.”
DMK: Are you two high or something? I have known him for years. I introduced him to The Worm and he gave me that signed map as a thank you present. It is like 300 years old or something. It is one of the few things that wasn’t destroyed when his grandfather seized power.
Samael: I have nothing to say.
Ante: Who is The Worm?
DMK: Are you f*cking intellectually- disabled or something? He won 5 NBA titles, he is the greatest rebounder of all time. The Worm. He always had his hair in crazy colors. Oh…you may know him by his other name. Dennis Rodman. All his friends call him The Worm or just Worm.
Why the hell does Donnie call Rodman “The Worm?” Does Rodman go by an alias in Donnie’s twisted mind?
Samael: There are so many questions I want to ask, but I feel like if I do, I will be sucked too far in to get out.
Ante: So you know Dennis Rodman and Kim Jong-un?
DMK: Yeah. Both good guys, misunderstood like me.
Misunderstood? He’s a f*ckin’ midget drug dealer with a toe in the wrestling business. How is he misunderstood?
Samael: How are you misunderstood, you are a drug dealing midget who moonlights as a wrestling manager?
Couldn’t have said it better myself, Samael.
DMK: Harsh bro. Don’t worry about my captains. We need to get on the same page for “New Dawn”. I am done with the losing. Sh~t has gone downhill for far too long. We need sh~t to go uphill.
Samael: Everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is good…
I look at Donnie. Fumes are pluming out of his head, faster than Tugarin’s can.
DMK: How the f~ck is Ante losing his gold good? How the f~ck is you losing your gold good? How the f~ck is me losing my gold good?
Donnie does have a point. Tugarin proceeds to stand up.
Tugarin: You learn from history. We learn from our mistakes. The good in this is that we are hungry again. When people reach the top, they become complacent. I have seen it before. They let the guard down then someone like me comes bursting through the door and everything is suddenly very bad in their world.
DMK: Ex-partner.
Donnie begins to reminisce on Drakz. Little guy can’t keep it together.
DMK: I am being force fed bullsh*t. This only means one thing, Drakz gets to live another day. And he is now Zmey’s partner. At least for the time being, I don’t intend to fail at the opportunity of capturing some gold regardless of the method.
Ante: Well you got me and Mike in the Tourney too.
DMK: F*ck Kyzer!
Donnie slams his little stubby hands on the table in anger.
DMK: Michael Kyzer is not on our side. He is the enemy. And it is unfortunate that you are in bed with the enemy.
Ante: What exactly did he do again to make him our enemy?
DMK: HE STOLE MY MOMENT!
He slams the table and screams at the top of his lungs. The little mumbles of the midget captains go silent as Donnie’s face turns bright red with fury. He clinches his fist and slams it on the table again.
DMK: I hope Michael Kyzer dies.
Ante: That seems a bit harsh.
He wants him to die? For what, his little moment against Drakz at Big Trouble in Little Seattle? I get that Mike can be an all-around assh*le, but to wish he was dead is a bit too far.
Samael: So what do you want Ante to just bail on Kyzer?
DMK: No of course not. Not until he has to face Zmey that is.
Tugarin? The f*ck?!
Ante: What? Hell no.
Donnie looks back at the map, trying to contain the anger inside.
DMK: This is not something we need to talk about yet anyways. The only thing I expect right now is for all of us to be victorious. We need momentum to shift back into our favor.
Donnie’s sick of losing. Samael is sick of losing. Tugarin is sick of losing. I’m sick of losing.
DMK: Zmey will punish Garrett again for being a stupid little c*cksucker. We already killed one of his partners.
Sabbath will experience the Dragon in a rather painful way.
One of the midgets gets the courage to speak up again.
Midget Captain 2: Like in the back of a Volkswagen?
DMK: Worse. And you, Ante, just worry about putting Nikki down once and for all.
I nod at his remark.
Samael: She is partnered with Trace.
DMK: You know, that is the unfortunate thing out of all of this, I actually like Trace. He has always done me right business-wise. So I guess, just kind of hurt Trace but focus on that b*tch Nikki and pin her.
Donnie has always respected Trace. On our ways to some of the shows, Donnie would tell about how great of a businessman he was. Donnie knows he earned the boss job a few years ago.
DMK: I really wish Trace wasn’t in this match.
Ante: Who cares about Trace?
DMK: As trigger happy as I am, I don’t burn bridges that have been profitable very easily.
Ante: It isn’t like I will need you out there. Don’t worry about my match.
I’m confident Mike and I got this. We both have our strings to pull with Trace and Nikki. And with the tag-team titles in the distance, our fury will be unmatched for them.
Samael: Or me. I have my sh~t together.
Donnie looks at him with cold eyes. Donnie doesn’t trust him. He has never trusted him.
DMK: You both better win. I can’t stress how much we need this.
Tugarin: We will bring you back blood.
Donnie starts to chuckle at Tugarin’s remark. Its as if the thought of another person’s blood got his little d*ck hard.
Maybe the war has officially begun.
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F*ck quells the land and steals the virginity of many of the young, smoking hot, women. The Messiah and the God laugh as the demon starts to loom. The queen, begging for mercy, is greeted by the demon.
The four engage in combat, leaving each other bloodied. The scars of everyone’s past lingers above their heads. Perhaps the past will bring them out of power. The queen will die. The demon will die. And two immortal beings will replace them.
No vindicators. No rules. No bullsh*t. It is all-out-war. Combat sharpened by the flesh of mortal man. Lust carved out of the golden virgins, sitting by the royal throne. Death molded from the souls of lost kings and gods.
In the end, it's all about the gold. A precious metal, capable of kickstarting or ending peoples’ lives. How ironic that a single piece of metal could fatally capture the minds of many. They all become zombies of their own discovery.
A discovery the queen and demon will make. They drop their brains and become disillusioned to the precious metal hanging above the balance. The Messiah and God are only focused on the queen and demon in their way. They are both hellbent on killing them and eventually seeking out for prized gold.
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This isn’t Team vs. Team. This ain’t Army vs. Army either.
It’s Empire vs. Republic.
Whether Donnie likes it or not, Mike and I are Lord and Apprentice. Messiah and God. We’re both after the same goal; revenge. As one of the seven deadly sins, wrath is quite the destructive one.
The wrath of the dark side will consume you two. You’re both headed towards the dark side of the force. Whether we see you in chains in the Death Star, or alongside us in our ultimate quest for galactic domination, you two will always be remembered as the valiant ones who fell to Kyzer and Whitner.
Hector and Paris, who fell to Achilles and Agamemnon. Cato and Clover, who fell to Katniss and Peeta. Obi-Wan and Yoda, who fell to Sidious and Vader.
Your fall is inevitable. Valiance doesn’t matter anymore.
What matters now is the rise of the Sith Empire.
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Sincerely yours,
Darth Sidious and Darth Vader
Intergalactic Space-Men
A Lord and his Apprentice
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Somewhere hidden in the valley of kings, a soul, glistening over the dark red sand, slowly fades away. His dying light leaves a black residue on the blood-stained sand. His hand reaches out for help, but falls slowly down without any sign of resurgence.
His other hand lies gently on the crown he once tightly held. As his wounds dissect the remaining soul of the once-feared king, a woman from the distance walks over his broken body
She smiles at the fallen king. That deadly smile slowly puckers up and kisses his cold, dead, lips. She steals his last breath that he was once promised. She leans over, picks up the bloodied crown, places it upon her head, laughs, and returns to her throne in the land far away.
The soul falls back down. The sand floods into his bones and his brain. He was once a man, a king, now only a mere lobotomized carcass. His eyes slowly shut as he gazes at the stars and the galaxies that lay beyond this one. He smiles and fades away from existence.
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Back in his former kingdom, the king’s name is erased from history. The woman who held the crown before him has now rightfully regained her power. The same power that corrupted the fallen king. But, this power was different.
This power unleashed a fury of red and black upon her newly conquered land. Perhaps it was a certain demon she summoned, or a certain lord returning for his poise. No one knew for sure. The only one who held the answer was the fallen king.
Attempting to realize the sheer significance of this summoning, bright pink and neon colors surge into the night sky as if a supernova had suddenly exploded adjacent to the land. If this was the summoning of a demon, the colors of red and black would’ve remained.
The people look up to the sky to see this euphoria of bright lights and wonders. They feel their minds slowly adjusting to this new way of life. The queen smiles as well. She became a zombie to this experience, feeding the greater vehicle. Perhaps the king wasn’t truly dead yet.
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Ante Whitner’s Apartment
Seattle, Washington
5/13/15
Kyzer: Knock, knock, Ante.
Michael Kyzer. The man, the myth, the legend. A god with the intentions of becoming the ideal addict. “The Addict’s Icon,” is one of the many names he calls himself. Kyzer does what he wants whenever he wants. He doesn’t follow rules. He only breaks them.
Ante: Yeah, Mike. You know it’s kinda late for this sh*t, right?
I peer through the peephole at one in the morning at a stoned freak looking for his redemption. It was only a few weeks ago that I had officially met him. Now, we’re on the road to redemption together. This time, for the tag-team titles.
Kyzer: Open up p*ssy, I got somethin’ to tell ya.
I slowly turn the knob to let him in. Donnie has told me not to trust him. Should I just completely ignore Donnie’s advice? Maybe I’m just a debt to Donnie’s priceless advice.
Ante: What is it Mike? Is it about the sh*tholes of society?
Mike shuts the door and lights a cig.
Kyzer: Lemme clear my mind first. And yes, it’s mainly about the p*ssy who failed to conquer my land.
Ante: Oh, c’mon. Don’t be an assh*le about it. I lost and…
Mike inhales the smoke in a loud and obnoxious manner. He laughs a bit and looks at the picture of my victory at Men and Monsters.
Kyzer: Look how f*ckin’ happy you were man. You’re a f*ckin’ hog now. When was the last time I took you to the bar?
Ante: Last week Mike. Last week.
Mike’s advice is simple, yet far different from Donnie’s. Let the ecstasy and coke take you away from the problems of the real world. In hindsight, I feel if I become a serious drug addict, like Mike himself, I’ll morph into something I hate. A cum-filled, d*uche-bag, assh*le like Charlie.
Kyzer: F*ck. Man, I need to blow my load on her face.
Ante: Who’s face?
Mike sits down and lights another cig. At this point, he has about three cigs in his mouth at the same time and mumbling under the nicotine rush.
Kyzer: -pulls the cigs out of his mouth- Nikki. I’d bang the living sh*t out of her in the middle of the ring if Trace didn’t own the place.
Ante: Are you facing her at Ascension or somethin’?
Mike laughs and coughs a little.
Kyzer: You’ve danced around with her in the ring. So, did you grab her giant tits and or maybe an ass grab? How does she feel? Too plastic? Or is she f*ckin’ bangin’?
Ante: Haha, you’re f*ckin’ something man.
Mike starts to chuckle.
Kyzer: You see Ante. That’s what I want to do. I want you to get back into the game. Smoke a few cigs, pop some mollies, and after it’s all done, we hold tag-team gold.
He starts to get serious.
Kyzer: But, I have to go through this f*ckin’ cumquat first. And you’re still hot off of your loss.
Ante: Okay, and…
Kyzer: I need you to rustle up the match a bit. Squeeze her tits or somethin’. Just make her pay for what she has done to you. And then, boom! I win, blow my load, and we walk out together.
I start to shake my head and begin to think about my loss at End Game.
Ante: I don’t know, can I…
Kyzer: Don’t be a p*ssy Ante. The game isn’t over yet. I still have more galaxies and planets to conquer. If you ain’t in, this Sith empire won’t grow by itself.
All along I thought the mythical Sith empire was the KoKaine Konspiracy. Aside from not seeing them in weeks, the Sith empire was truly just Mike and I. Sidious and Vader with sex slaves at our command. Ah, the glory.
Kyzer: Think about it. This isn’t just a tag-team created from chance. This is a Sith lord and his Sith apprentice, poised to take over the universe.
I laugh at the sight of galactic warships being commissioned under our commands. The beautiful stars in alignment for the Jedi extinction. Hell, I think the SoS are too far from being Jedis. They’re more like Jar-Jar and his f*ckin’ band of Gungans.
Ante: Perhaps the king isn’t dead yet.
Kyzer: F*ck being a king man. You’re the apprentice of a Sith emperor. It doesn’t get f*ckin’ better than that.
I stand up and look at the picture of a cheerful Ante, holding a National Title above his head. A king was crowned that day. A glorious king.
I then look down at my feet. The same feet that failed to keep me up against Nikki. The feet that collapsed a kingdom.
I proceed to look at my hands. Powerful and strong. An emperor’s hands, forged from the fury of the periphery.
Michael Kyzer and Ante Whitner. Master and Apprentice. Darth Sidious and Darth Vader.
Kyzer: What do you say? Livin’ life in the fast lane. Stealing whores and punching tickets into clits ain’t so much of a bad thing, ain’t it?
I give my trademark grin to the veteran. The emperor himself.
Ante: I’m in. Donnie can wait.
Kyzer: Exactly, that’s what I came here for.
He pats me on the back and lights another cig in my face. He hands me another cig.
Kyzer: Here, clear your mind man. We need to be ready to pull the f*ckin’ strings soon.
I put the cig in my mouth and let the nicotine take me over. I’m a zombie with the intentions of creating an empire no mortal man has ever witnessed.
Living life in the fast lane. Not a bad ring to it.
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The king’s voice shimmered in the distance. His eagle tone was long lost. Instead, the sound of a vulture surfaced. The bright neon lights reveal two astonishing figures. Two kings, resurrected by the strong bond of nicotine and THC oil.
Now, the two kings transformed into two emperors. One with the ultimate dream of conquest and domination and the other fueled with vengeance.
The king with the dream of conquest was referred to the God of F*ck. A god, like a certain Jew who had recently passed on. He was never familiar to the queen, but quite familiar with the overlord, Drakz.
However, the king with vengeance had returned to restore his former glory. He was no longer life. He was now a living death with a mission of feeding on the dead and wreaking havoc upon the living. Once hailed as the Bloodied Eagle, the king was now known as the Messiah of F*ck.
They both advocated F*ck. F*ck itself was an excellent choice in taking down regional leaders, especially with the newly crowned queen. F*ck was a strong force that struck the vaginal region of a woman’s body. F*ck to a queen would most definitely take down the throne.
F*ck approached her. With the God and Messiah looming around her, she was forced to give up. She couldn’t take the sheer abuse of F*ck. It was too strong for her slutty self. As she was about to relinquish her throne, a certain demon appeared.
Known to the God, this demon had uncontrollable power. He had the power to create or destroy whoever he pleased. In the day, he was strictly about business. At night, he was about cruel punishment.
But one question remained, is the queen still in power? What is the mission of this demon? Will the God and his Messiah ever return to their former glory?
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Donnie’s “War Room”
Unknown
After a little talk about going forward, Samael and I were invited to Donnie’s “war room” to discuss the plans moving forward. He briefly talked about a new offensive we’re gonna try out. As I walk into the room, I notice Donnie, Tugarin, and two other midgets all staring at Samael and I with a bit of surprise.
Ante: What are they looking at?
I stare at the two puny little midgets. They look as sly and mischievous as Donnie. I can see why they're here.
DMK: They are plotting a strategy for the war.
Samael moves past me to look at the two midgets and their map.
Samael: Is that a map of the Korean Peninsula?
DMK: Yeah. So?
Korean Penisula? The f*ck, Donnie?
Samael: What does the Korean Peninsula have to do with anything?
DMK: It is the war map. I got it from Kim.
Kim, who? There’s no f*ckin’ way he talked to the dictator himself. Donnie’s brain is out there, but I doubt it's in the hands of the Koreans.
Ante: Who is Kim?
DMK: Kim Jong-un. Do you know another Kim?
Figured he would give me a smart-ass remark in response.
Samael: So, you have a map given to you by the dictator of North Korea?
I look at a card next to the map on the table. It’s a business card for someone called “The Worm.”
DMK: Are you two high or something? I have known him for years. I introduced him to The Worm and he gave me that signed map as a thank you present. It is like 300 years old or something. It is one of the few things that wasn’t destroyed when his grandfather seized power.
Samael: I have nothing to say.
Ante: Who is The Worm?
DMK: Are you f*cking intellectually- disabled or something? He won 5 NBA titles, he is the greatest rebounder of all time. The Worm. He always had his hair in crazy colors. Oh…you may know him by his other name. Dennis Rodman. All his friends call him The Worm or just Worm.
Why the hell does Donnie call Rodman “The Worm?” Does Rodman go by an alias in Donnie’s twisted mind?
Samael: There are so many questions I want to ask, but I feel like if I do, I will be sucked too far in to get out.
Ante: So you know Dennis Rodman and Kim Jong-un?
DMK: Yeah. Both good guys, misunderstood like me.
Misunderstood? He’s a f*ckin’ midget drug dealer with a toe in the wrestling business. How is he misunderstood?
Samael: How are you misunderstood, you are a drug dealing midget who moonlights as a wrestling manager?
Couldn’t have said it better myself, Samael.
DMK: Harsh bro. Don’t worry about my captains. We need to get on the same page for “New Dawn”. I am done with the losing. Sh~t has gone downhill for far too long. We need sh~t to go uphill.
Samael: Everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is good…
I look at Donnie. Fumes are pluming out of his head, faster than Tugarin’s can.
DMK: How the f~ck is Ante losing his gold good? How the f~ck is you losing your gold good? How the f~ck is me losing my gold good?
Donnie does have a point. Tugarin proceeds to stand up.
Tugarin: You learn from history. We learn from our mistakes. The good in this is that we are hungry again. When people reach the top, they become complacent. I have seen it before. They let the guard down then someone like me comes bursting through the door and everything is suddenly very bad in their world.
DMK: Ex-partner.
Donnie begins to reminisce on Drakz. Little guy can’t keep it together.
DMK: I am being force fed bullsh*t. This only means one thing, Drakz gets to live another day. And he is now Zmey’s partner. At least for the time being, I don’t intend to fail at the opportunity of capturing some gold regardless of the method.
Ante: Well you got me and Mike in the Tourney too.
DMK: F*ck Kyzer!
Donnie slams his little stubby hands on the table in anger.
DMK: Michael Kyzer is not on our side. He is the enemy. And it is unfortunate that you are in bed with the enemy.
Ante: What exactly did he do again to make him our enemy?
DMK: HE STOLE MY MOMENT!
He slams the table and screams at the top of his lungs. The little mumbles of the midget captains go silent as Donnie’s face turns bright red with fury. He clinches his fist and slams it on the table again.
DMK: I hope Michael Kyzer dies.
Ante: That seems a bit harsh.
He wants him to die? For what, his little moment against Drakz at Big Trouble in Little Seattle? I get that Mike can be an all-around assh*le, but to wish he was dead is a bit too far.
Samael: So what do you want Ante to just bail on Kyzer?
DMK: No of course not. Not until he has to face Zmey that is.
Tugarin? The f*ck?!
Ante: What? Hell no.
Donnie looks back at the map, trying to contain the anger inside.
DMK: This is not something we need to talk about yet anyways. The only thing I expect right now is for all of us to be victorious. We need momentum to shift back into our favor.
Donnie’s sick of losing. Samael is sick of losing. Tugarin is sick of losing. I’m sick of losing.
DMK: Zmey will punish Garrett again for being a stupid little c*cksucker. We already killed one of his partners.
Sabbath will experience the Dragon in a rather painful way.
One of the midgets gets the courage to speak up again.
Midget Captain 2: Like in the back of a Volkswagen?
DMK: Worse. And you, Ante, just worry about putting Nikki down once and for all.
I nod at his remark.
Samael: She is partnered with Trace.
DMK: You know, that is the unfortunate thing out of all of this, I actually like Trace. He has always done me right business-wise. So I guess, just kind of hurt Trace but focus on that b*tch Nikki and pin her.
Donnie has always respected Trace. On our ways to some of the shows, Donnie would tell about how great of a businessman he was. Donnie knows he earned the boss job a few years ago.
DMK: I really wish Trace wasn’t in this match.
Ante: Who cares about Trace?
DMK: As trigger happy as I am, I don’t burn bridges that have been profitable very easily.
Ante: It isn’t like I will need you out there. Don’t worry about my match.
I’m confident Mike and I got this. We both have our strings to pull with Trace and Nikki. And with the tag-team titles in the distance, our fury will be unmatched for them.
Samael: Or me. I have my sh~t together.
Donnie looks at him with cold eyes. Donnie doesn’t trust him. He has never trusted him.
DMK: You both better win. I can’t stress how much we need this.
Tugarin: We will bring you back blood.
Donnie starts to chuckle at Tugarin’s remark. Its as if the thought of another person’s blood got his little d*ck hard.
Maybe the war has officially begun.
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F*ck quells the land and steals the virginity of many of the young, smoking hot, women. The Messiah and the God laugh as the demon starts to loom. The queen, begging for mercy, is greeted by the demon.
The four engage in combat, leaving each other bloodied. The scars of everyone’s past lingers above their heads. Perhaps the past will bring them out of power. The queen will die. The demon will die. And two immortal beings will replace them.
No vindicators. No rules. No bullsh*t. It is all-out-war. Combat sharpened by the flesh of mortal man. Lust carved out of the golden virgins, sitting by the royal throne. Death molded from the souls of lost kings and gods.
In the end, it's all about the gold. A precious metal, capable of kickstarting or ending peoples’ lives. How ironic that a single piece of metal could fatally capture the minds of many. They all become zombies of their own discovery.
A discovery the queen and demon will make. They drop their brains and become disillusioned to the precious metal hanging above the balance. The Messiah and God are only focused on the queen and demon in their way. They are both hellbent on killing them and eventually seeking out for prized gold.
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This isn’t Team vs. Team. This ain’t Army vs. Army either.
It’s Empire vs. Republic.
Whether Donnie likes it or not, Mike and I are Lord and Apprentice. Messiah and God. We’re both after the same goal; revenge. As one of the seven deadly sins, wrath is quite the destructive one.
The wrath of the dark side will consume you two. You’re both headed towards the dark side of the force. Whether we see you in chains in the Death Star, or alongside us in our ultimate quest for galactic domination, you two will always be remembered as the valiant ones who fell to Kyzer and Whitner.
Hector and Paris, who fell to Achilles and Agamemnon. Cato and Clover, who fell to Katniss and Peeta. Obi-Wan and Yoda, who fell to Sidious and Vader.
Your fall is inevitable. Valiance doesn’t matter anymore.
What matters now is the rise of the Sith Empire.
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Sincerely yours,
Darth Sidious and Darth Vader
Intergalactic Space-Men
