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| The Beginning is the End is the Beginning; Boss Hix RP #1 | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 13 2009, 11:16 PM (113 Views) | |
| Boss Hix | Aug 13 2009, 11:16 PM Post #1 |
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IC Champ
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They say that all good things must reach their end, whether or not it is the desire of those whom are fortunate enough to revel in the experience. Yes, such is the harsh reality of this mortal coil. Nothing can last forever, whether it be the physical and spiritual existence of a human being, whether it be a glorious summer day, or whether it be the career of a lifetime. Dusk approaches, as the sun sets over arguably, no, undoubtedly, the greatest career in the history of professional wrestling. After many years of struggle, poverty, fasting, being on the road every single week, often being over-looked for the flavor of the month, the boots are about to finally about to be hung up, forever. There is no return. This is the final frontier. They say in this business, retirement is never permanent, it is merely a vacation. Well, whoever said that, knew what they were talkin bout. The FN Boss has retired multiple times…but each time I’ve always came back. I’ve always made an impact. I’ve always been the main event. And I’ve always made controversy. And then enters El Pablo. This may be the last time, you see your hero. Mors ultima linea rerum est. Eddie Rowan. Brian Kirkland. Ruth Ann. Fairbanks. Meade. David Dubois. Allen Smith. Edward Ison. Jacob Phoenix. Sirena Starr. Ten human beings. Ten victims. Men, and a woman, whom all have fallen at my feet. All of whom who have been forced to bow to true greatness, and to realize, that I am what I’ve always proclaimed. I’m The Boss. Time after time, these same hapless fools have attempted to step up to me. And I’ve crushed them, and shattered their dreams, all a part of my sick little games. Worthless opposition to flick away at a moment’s notice, bored as one could possibly be, mailing it in every week, because when confronted by such dismal opposition, The Boss needs to put in little effort. The pawns. The lowest of the low, mere foot soldiers marching towards an inevitable demise, short swords drawn, shields pressed tightly against their thin, malnourished frames, commanding little respect, devoid of belief, of hope. They seek that which is impossible, to recreate the miracle that was Thermopylae, and overcome the most grave of odds. March on, weary Spartans. Be brave. Go all out, for that, is your purpose in life. To be fodder. To die. To be the first wave sent out onto the battlefield, to be slaughtered at the will of your superiors, and all in the vain hope that you, may survive, and one day, that you may ascend, and to reign over a kingdom of your own, with a tyrannical, iron fist. Fifteen. This is your opportunity, to seize your dreams, to take that step up, to earn a badge of honor. To have the dreams of the slaughtered resting upon your weary shoulders, your tattered hands bearing the longest sword, your back adorned with the finest bow. Weaponry. The hope, that you, David, may slay Goliath. Carpe diem. A shot at the f**kin Boss, the prize which lies at the end of the road for one of you lucky souls. El Pablo, it’s what you want right? Heed my words, and seize the day. For this may be your one and only shot at glory, before death at the hands of Caesar. My kingdom. My kingdom is a ravaged, war-torn, desolate, inhospitable landscape, in which success, is to merely remain alive. My subjects are poverty-stricken, hungry souls, whom despise their benevolent dictator, and those whom he considers worthy of his time, his heirs to throne, his Royal Warriors, the Elite Guard of the Dynasty. The Knight. A charismatic figure, the embodiment of all that is enigma. An intimidating sight it is to see him waging war from the back of his trusty steed, cutting down the infidels with a careless ease, his mind no doubt focusing on the problems of the world. The Knight is intelligent, a deep thinker, and a man of few words. When he speaks, the world listens, and is sheerly amazed by his philosophies. They call this Knight, Justin Marsham. His docile, trance-like manner is transfixing to say the very least, captivating in the extremes, and chivalrous to a fault, yes, my friends, Marsham, is everything one could ask for in a Knight. Loyal, brave, strong, intelligent, a true mastermind, the likes of which shalt likely never be appreciated until his time has passed. The Bishops. Crafty and wise, men of the people, who excels in their power to stupefy laymen with their words, to burrow deeply within their souls, and to peer into their hears. Their brutality and sadism stems from their powerful intellect, their sharp tongues, and their cold, evil eyes. They are the Bishops. The Voice Of Truth. His name is Silencio. A prodigy taken under the wing of The Boss, and who was taught the art of cerebral warfare, from the master himself. A devious mind, power in his fists, and the grace which would be expected of a man in his position, Silencio, my friends, is a future heir to the throne, and to believe otherwise, is to perch atop the peak of ignorance. The Rook. The mysterious assassin, whom can appear without warning, and slit your throat in the brink of an eye, cackling a blood-curding laugh, standing over his unfortunate, fallen victim, his knife in hand, looking upon his handiwork, pleased with the kill, before retiring to the shadows once more, to scout his next prey, before striking once more, in the blink of an eye, savoring every drop of blood spilled upon his wicked tongue. He is who I call the Bad Ass. The tormented soul of The Rook, much like the crow with whom he shares a name, seeks little else but pain to be set upon his enemies, reveling in the thrill of the chase, and gaining pleasure in the death of others, the ruthless, sadistic young warrior, the immediate heir to the throne. May he live long. The Queen. They say that there is no piece more powerful than The Queen, and perhaps, it rings true. A true mastermind, though small in stature, and lacking the imposing physical strength of her peers, it is within her mind in which the skirmishes and battles are planned out, in exquisite detail, a despicable, dark soul on display for the entire world to see - and it’s a darkness that they love. Allescha McVay, your Queen. Alluring, manipulative, blood-thirsty, the qualities which define the Queen of the world. Sheerly, brilliant, her terrifying reign shall be forever remembered as a black cloud over the life of her subordinates, resting her feet against their backs, being fed grapes by her humble servants. The King. As the King falls, the Nation falls. As the King rises in might, he pulls his loyal subjects, along for the ride. He is of the utmost importance for the survival of his race, the glue which holds together a fragile society fit to collapse into an anarchic, Neanderthal-like, chaos, a veritable feast of rape, pillaging, death, destruction. The world needs a King. To maintain order, to be adored by the masses, and worshipped as a God. But, one does not simply become a God amongst men by claiming it, no, one ascends to this height by having all the qualities befitting of a Deity. Confidence, charisma, a shrewd, genius mind, strength, skill. Everything I am. They call me TJ Hix, The f**kin Boss - The Whole f**king Show. And why is that? Could it be mere hyperbole? Could it be a mythical legend the likes of which shall be passed down through generations, to the point that little truth is left within my legacy? Or, could it be, that the facts, simply don’t lie? Admit it. Go on. You’ll never forget me. The Boss shall live forever, for it is The Boss who has set every record possible. Eons from now, when the people look back in time, the very first name on the list of CzW Greats. The man who will end a reign of his wicked childe known as El Pablo. The man who will use his own creation as a tool of his complete destruction. Veni, vidi, vici. I came, I saw, I conquered. And as it all draws to it’s magnificent closure, I cannot help but smile. For, win, lose, draw, my legacy shall remain the same. I shall forever be known as The Whole f**king Show. And I did it my way. I didn’t need help. I chose it. I took the future and I molded it into greatness. That greatness shall explode in a little less than a week, come Overdrive. The Entourage. Marsham, Brothers of Misery, Solomon Black, and I. CzW, look at your new idols. Embrace their reign, and realize, that they are the men and women for whom I have made myself a martyr, your guiding lights. The greatest team in history. Men and Women who not too long from now will join The Boss in the pantheon of legends, who, much like The Boss, shall forever be; Immortal. But these men and women, are not mere pawns designed to carry on the legacy of The Boss, no, my friends, my legacy draws more power, but the legacy of The Entourage shall forever live. You may bow at the feet of TJ Hix and The Entourage. For they, are your new Gods. As for The Boss? Oderunt dum Metuant Exegi monumentum aere perennius. ----------------------------------------- ~Ante Bellum~ Before The War [WEDNESDAY] Boston, Massachusetts. We walk, heads down, towards the Arena, in which a podium no doubt awaits, and wrestling media wanting to get the scoop on what’s really happening no doubt await to hear from The Boss. The sun hangs in the sky, tingeing it pink as it beings its descent to sink into obscurity beneath the horizon. Hix Seems like only yesterday we were getting our asses kicked in a grungy, shitty little school, doesn’t it? Alexis Yeah…hard to believe it’s been, nearly, seven years now. Hix Yup, that first year, in that f**kin’ school, man, that was hell. Alexis Eh, you’ve had worse. Hix Yeah, yeah, I know. Just ‘cause you’ve never had any injuries… Alexis Because I’m smart enough to know how to protect myself. Hix Whatever… The Fenway Park Arena. A site which in only a few days time, will be sight of the final matches of our careers. Enter. Be greeted by a smartly dressed man in his early fifties, I would guess, who leads us to the conference room of the arena. Open the door, walk in, There’s a few people in the room, no doubt starving for the truth. Allescha sits down at the table beside the small podium, as I stand behind it, it’s my turn. Hix Well, I’m sure you’re all simply exploding with questions, so, go ahead. Reporter #1 Bill Cameron, ProWrestlingToday. I guess my question, first and foremost, is, why? What possible reason could you have for hanging up your boots at such a young age? Hix Well, I guess that’s the inevitable question, and I knew this as coming. To put it simply, my body, and my mind, are shot. Allow me to share with you a story, one which has haunted me since the moment I experienced it. But first, allow me to ask you a question, Bill. Do you know why I named my Driver, the Near Death Experience? Bill Cameron No, no I don’t. Hix Well, Bill, the reason, is because I want to give my opponents a taste of what it’s like, to nearly have your life ended in that ring. I know what that’s like. Years ago, on the independent scene, the formative part of my career, The Boss was dropped squarely on his head. And his neck was broken. Do you have any idea what that feels like? To have your neck snap? It f**king sucks, Bill. And that’s the main reason why I’m hanging up the boots - my neck. I shouldn’t be wrestling to begin with. I’ve suffered in pain every day of my life since that fool broke my neck back in 1996. There’s only so long a surgically-repaired neck can hold up. And it’s reached breaking point. Reporter #2 TJ, Troy Cassel, Wrestle Frenzy. When exactly is the last match? A month? Two? Hix Err, tomorrow, Troy, you dumbass. You ain’t been paying attention, have you? Troy Cassel Sorry…well, uhh, what about The Whole Damn Show? Hix What about The Show? Troy Cassel Aren’t you leaving them, high and dry? Hix Hah! You really are stupid, you know that, Troy? Troy Cassel Yeah… Hix Of course I’m not leaving Crusher and Attitude high and dry. They’re big boys. They could take care of themselves before I took them under my tutelage. Why wouldn’t they be able to take care of themselves now? Fact is, Crusher and Smith are better than they’ve ever been before. Both men are future World Champions. And you think I’m leaving them high and dry? Anything but. I’m giving them opportunity. With me out of the picture, they will get the opportunities which they deserve. And that’s what matters, more than anything else. CzW needs new blood at the top - Johnny and Allen are the new blood. Allow The Boss to predict that by the end of 2000, at least one of those men, will be Heavyweight Champion of the World. Guaranteed. These aren’t “lackeys”. These are students, who will someday surpass the master. And once they surpass Matt, they’ll be in my league. So no, Troy, no reason to worry about The Show, at all. Reason to fear them? Most certainly. Reporter #3 Johnny Spade. It’s well known that retirements in this business are short-lived. How long until we see you back full-time? Hix You won’t ever see me back full-time. And I mean that. Johnny Spade Then, what do you plan to do for the rest of your life? Hix Move to Alaska and farm snow. Johnny Spade I’m serious. Hix In that case - I plan to sink into anonymity. To live a peaceful life, and not have to put up with people like you. That good enough? Johnny Spade I guess. Just one more thing. Hix What? Lisa Wallace Covey. Hix versus Covey in many ways, transcends CzW. It’s been the feud which has raged the longest in the companies history. Do you have any thoughts on Matt, your best friend, being your final opponent? Do you think he can beat you? Hix Ugh. Look, how many times do I have to discuss Matt? He betrayed me. He nearly killed me. Has my blood-feud with the man transcended and defined what CzW is all about? Arguably, yes. What you’ve got to understand however, is that when compared to The Boss, Bad Ass is a supporting character. He’s doomed to struggle against The Boss. That’s just how it goes. Bad Ass can’t beat me one on one, it just doesn’t happen. I, on the other hand, can defeat him with ease, Hell, I’ve only done it, what, ten times? Matt isn’t in my league. He never has been. He never will be. And that’s the bottom line. I have nothing more to say about Matt that I haven’t said a hundred times before. Thank you for your time. Feed Ends as the scene zooms out on TJ Hix sitting at his cherry oak desk. Hix Wow…that was taped several years ago during my final run in the wrestling business. Allescha McVay sits at her own smaller version of TJ’s desk. Allescha Yes sir. Wasn’t that shortly before I finally got away from Swifty and found you? Hix I just hate the fact it took you almost 5 years to finally break away from that asshole. Allescha Heh, regardless, aren’t you glad you did come back yet again. Hix Indeed. But unfortunately…a travesty has befallen the greatest in the wrestling business. Allescha A travesty sir? Hix Yes…a travesty. Millions and millions of those Massachusetts morons watched a mountain woman straight outta Manmouth pin me…ME…The f**kin Boss TJ Hix. The bitch pinned me. She beat me and Silencio…my ace in the sleeve. A fresh face…fresh talent…but it wasn’t enough. Ruth and Sirena still prevailed. Allescha Did they sir? I was just reading this…and according to it…you prevailed Boss. Allescha hands TJ a crimson colored book. TJ looks at it and examines it. A dangerous grin crosses his face. Hix Ah yes. I forgot about this. Boss Hix Rules of Engagement 101. Hix flips through a few pages. Hix You’re absolutely right. According to entry 69...heh…69.…they who are able to walk away from the battle, the spoils truly belong. Allescha And if memory serves me correctly…you left both women face down on the mat. You and the brothers were actually the ones to walk away. Hix Correct you are my dear. Correct you are. TJ walks around to his desk and sits down on his heavy leather chair before propping his feet on his desk. Hix Allescha, has my 5 o’clock showed yet? Allescha types a couple of things on her laptop. Allescha No sir. He hasn’t called or left a message or anything either. Hix Eh, no matter. Business must carry on as usual. If nothing else, mail him his paycheck. We may have lost…but he did his part. He earned his CzW contract and his pay. Make sure Silencio gets his money. Allescha Yes Boss. Hix No matter how long I’ve had that name…it never gets old hearing it. I am the f**kin Boss…and there isn’t a damned thing anyone can do about it. Alright, call in the brothers. We have work to do. The most intelligent man in the CzW has sent word of his near return. We have to get everything ready for the man…the myth…the legend…the sensation…Jesse Montana. Everything has got to be perfect. So we have to plot and plan. Allescha Of course Boss. They’re just outside. Allescha walks to the door and opens it…waving the Brothers of Misery in. The same three men from Fade 2 Black enter TJ’s office. They stand in front of his desk. Hix Evening gentlemen. Now, as you all know…word has it that Mr. Montana could be comin back anytime now. So we need to set the stage for his return. The three men look back and forth at each other, unsure of what’s going on. Hix As you know…Jesse has overcome everything ever put in his way. EOI Yes Boss. Hix Well, the problem is this. No matter how many bodies he has broken…no matter how many careers he has shattered…one force remains. One force continues being a pain in his ass. And that force is XtC. Only they have ever proven to keep Jesse from achieving his ultimate goal. Hix pauses a moment before standing and walking around to the three newcomers. He smacks the man wearing a devil mask. Hix Damn it Edward. Why the hell are you still wearing that f**king thing? You tryin to be the devil man or some shit? Take that f**kin thing off. Hix yanks the mask of his head and throws it in the garbage. Hix f**kin hell brother bullshit. Alright, enough f**king around. It’s time to get down to business. This week, the board has decided to put me back at the top where I belong. I’m the main f**kin event against the new hero of the CzW since the old one tucked his tail between his legs and ran off like the loser that he is. Ace King is gone…which leaves his protégé, El Pab Smear. Heh…get it…Pab Smear…Pap smear… The three men fake chuckles. Hix Shut up…no one told you to laugh. They silence Hix At least Silencio carried on better conversation. Anyway, as luck would have it…I just so happen to be set to face off with El Pab Smear. Not sure who I’ve been nice too, but I got quite a gift. First I got to silence Ruth…and now rumor has it…that XtC has declared an all out war on myself and the Entourage. It’s kinda funny really. Not one member of that ambiguous team has even came close to accomplishing all that I have. Why else would Jesse have asked me to return to the ring to put a stop to them loud mouth bunch of buffoons. It started with the Show…I ended them for good…not that I had to try too hard mind you. They pretty much imploded on themselves…I just put the final nail in the coffin. Meade and Fairbanks were getting too cocky for their own good…so I ended them for good. Then Ruth started her shit…unaware that she would bring the holocaust upon her beloved team. Sure…she may have won that battle…but the war rages on…and in the end…I shall ride in upon my felsteed and bring death to that which you love. I’ve destroyed careers…I’ve destroyed federations…destroying a team…heh…child’s play. You are no threat to me. XtC has run wild in the CzW for far too long…and now it’s time to fossilize you all. Your time is over. The Entourage is now…it’s time for something new…not something outdated like El Pablo…Ruth Ann…Krimzon Blaze. Their time is over. Ace knew his time was up…that’s why he is now gone. It left the reigns to El Pablo…his second in command. And now you’ve been put in the path of Jesse’s second in command. He has entrusted me in his absence with the power to do what should have been done a long time ago. He knows I can make it happen. And I guess it starts with you Pabs. Hix stops again…thinking. Hix Pabs…I think that’s an alcoholic beverage isn’t it? Allescha Yes sir. Hix Thought so. Anyway…back to El Pablo. Come on…I have some business to discuss with the fans outside and a party to crash. The CzW is holding one of it's all too familiar lack of interest pre show block parties, when "Tear Away" by Drowning suddenly blows the roof off the house! The fans begin to boo as the CzW's own f**kin Boss TJ Hix walks down to the concession stand. Wearing a black leather trench coat and his black jeans, the Boss struts to the table, his hair dangling loose over his eyes. As he jumps up on the table, he thrusts his right arm high into the air to an explosion of negative chants within the party. He then turns his fist into a flying symbol with his middle finger as the outstretched point of his attitude. He then walks over towards the guest of honor’s booth and calls for a microphone. The CzW Interviewer; Ryan Lewis hands him one. The "f**kin Boss" then turns to his spiteful partiers. Hix Now... I'm sure half of you guys are bored to f**king tears right now, so let's say we blow the roof off of this bitch one time? Oh I forget… You’re too busy blowing the shit out of one another! Well keep sucking rednecks and maybe one day the CzW might recognize your sorry asses! The mass gets to their feet and explode with deafening shouts and flying objects galore. TJ nods, a smirk giving his apparent moment of pleasure at their futile attempts to mouth at him. He watches as several men try to climb over the mob, but CzW security is quick to hold them back. He laughs and flips them off. Hix You know something? You’re all about as half-witted and f**king stupid ass El Pablo himself! I am not going to forget the look on Pab's face that fateful day when he finds himself plowed down by the one…the only…f**kIN BOSS TJ HIX himself. I mean you should've seen the stupid looking glare this guy had in his eyes the minute he thought I was going to be a pushover. It was almost as retarded looking as you assholes. But you see, I’ve not been the kind of guy to “sell out” to complete morons who think that cussing up a dominant team in a fed will make them some kind of god. The crowd has become enraged now as more and more try to take shots at the “f**kin Boss”. TJ looks to one guy in the crowd… Hix That’s right fat ass, climb your “Yokozuna- look-a-like” mammoth ass over the mob and then we’ll f**king talk. Okay? But am I here to talk about Soul and his silly-ass, anal-fetishes? Hell no! Am I here to talk about how I'm going to beat the living f**k out of Lost Soul during our title match? You damn straight I am! Now first thing's first, that walking retard from Doof-Ville we call El Pablo. The fans cheer Pablo’s name as it rolls off of the Boss’ tongue. He looks the crowd over once and laughs. Hix That’s right. Go ahead and cheer for the bastard, he’s the closest thing in this fed resembling any of you morons. Now this is one guy who's had an interesting tenure here in the CzW… Going so far as to win some sort of acknowledgment here. And though I’d like to try and look at it through a first-person perspective, I just can’t find anything more embarrassing than losing a match against a man everyone calls a joke. Hix messes his hair up and then throws his head back trying to roll his eyes back in his head. Hix Well, locker room rumors start spreading about a man tougher than him, and mean as Satan himself. The man goes by the name of "The f**kin Boss" TJ Hix. So quietly to himself, Pablo is thinking that he doesn't want to find out if the man is real or an urban legend, yet he can’t let the comments go because then everyone would see him for the fraud he really is. So he fires back with his mouth, only to realize that this isn’t going to work, because the Boss has pulled out all the stops and opened fire with everything under the f**king sun, and by now Pablo is really starting to sweat this new foe he’s made. So he tries to go on with his life in the mean time, but the f**kin Boss has already gotten to him. And so he’s losing his precious fame to everyone in the building including a rookie. Trying to hide his fear and shame, he vanishes. And in the end, he finds he has to face the man upon his return at Overdrive. But is that the end? Hell no! The party goers are now dead patient and intent on hearing the whole story in which the Boss is giving to them. Most either are in disbelief and yet others find it to be making sense. Hix So now he’s watching old CzW tapes. Watching the Boss. Seeing the raw style of his opponent first hand, Pablo thinks to himself that it would’ve been a far better thing to just face the f**kin Boss once and leave it at that. That’s not the case. You live in my world, and I don’t just let you walk away. No, you see the f**kin Boss has acquired a couple of title shots in my time …but not here yet.. So now he’s f**ked to suffer at not just my hands, but I want feel satisfied just winning over you…hell no!! I’m gonna want to kick your ass after the match and before the match too! But I get you first at CzW Overdrive in what will be your funeral and the beginning of the end of XtC. Now putting you on a bit more of a pedestal as to how I just feel like talkin about you considering you are my opponent… The group is quick to raise their voice in disagreement once again over the controversial man standing before them. But he shrugs them off, because quite frankly he doesn’t give a damn about what they think. Hix And now onto this almighty Five Star El Pablo. We’ve not heard a lot from this guy lately have we have we except for his little interview he conducted recently? I mean I think the guy fell off his high horse and bit his own f**king tongue off. I face Pabs, but I don’t play second fiddle to anyone! But I will play a f**king heavy metal track and mosh pit all across Pablo’s face if he insists. All I can say for Soul and myself? May the more determined star win.” The partiers are tired of booing by now, and the f**kin Boss looks no where near finished. So they’ve turned to throwing objects again and chanting “You Suck” at various times, peeved that they can’t do anything about the Boss at this time. Hix So I’ve got Pablo dealt with. Done. Dead. Good versus Evil. Dip-shit against Maniacal Genius. And all in the form of two men one on one fighting it out for one of the most sought out things all wrestling careers…and that‘s recognition! I look at the sides and I have no choice but to laugh. That whiny bitch in the home office has elected Pablo as the man to try and take the chance of stopping the f**kin Boss from exterminating him and his rag tag band of misfits. After he’s crushed by me who’s going to be his savior’s then? A “Holy Roller” and a masked man rip-off like all the other feds I’ve went through and gutted? Besides, Pablo is supposed to stand up to me? Look , even your God knows when to quit. And that was on the ninth day, right after creating The f**kin Boss TJ Hix! The bad part is to come right after I tear your “saviors” apart. You’ve sent El Pablo after me…Brian Kirkland…and a couple of other jokers in the CzW…and each one has fallen. Now it’s a contest to see who is the top dog, and that could very well rip the CzW apart at the seams. Now one would figure the f**kin Boss could just go ahead and be pissed and just run them all out of the CzW right then and there right? Wrong. The Boss is going to be a team player, but when it comes to that time I’m looking out for number one. And after the building explodes from all of the testosterone, the Boss will still be standing. The question is, who will be the champ? You know… Now that I think of it, it would kill you idiots to see me wearing some gold here in the CzW at some point, wouldn’t it? To see me wearing any gold as a matter of fact… Well f**k all of you! Because one way or another I’m walking out with something to show for all of the ass I’m going to beat! And then you’ll have no choice but to bow down to a greater man that you all wish you could be! And with nothing you can do about it, I’ll tell you and everyone else to attempt to climb this corporate ladder and then burn in hell!” Hix snarls and flips the crowd off again, watching as several men make it over the guardrail. Two of them are stopped in their tracks, but a third man slides onto the table to which Hix quickly drives a fist into his face. The man falls back, swinging like girl as the Boss climbs over him, hammering his face with multiple punches. By the time security drag him off the man, his face is half covered in his own scarlet pools of blood, and his nose is ripped apart from his face and holding on by a small amount of flesh. The man is quickly dragged out as Hix turns his attention to the security. He steals a billy-club from one of the officers and cracks him across the face and rolls him off of the table and swings at the rest of the men as they flee the party with their injured comrade. Hix returns, screaming to the microphone… Hix Now! Anyone else want to f**k with me? Well? WELL? That’s what I thought. f**king sit down and shut up! Where the hell was I? Oh yeah... So I’m walking in this Saturday with hell rushing through my head, and walking out with whatever the hell I want! And now that I've looked all of this over, it brings to mind one more thing... The partiers come alive with a chant of, "WHAT?" Hix Alright, cut that shit out! I ain't no pansy-ass bald redneck who can spout off one catchy yet retarded catch phrase and bitch about his position in the wrestling world! Anyway... There is still more on this asshole on my little list of bitches who have theirs coming! I know Pablo is sitting at home listening to every word I’m spoutin off right now. If he’s smart, he’ll back the f**k off and leave some people alone. I’d hate to have to f**k him up just because his dick got him trouble! Ah to hell with it! Pablo…you’re not a real show…you’re only a figment of everyone’s f**kin imagination. We all are. I’m the only Truthless Hero who exists in this sad existence of humanity. Listen here punk stay the f**k away from my reign or so help me I’ll split your f**king face open with my bare hands and pop your skull off your shoulders like a wine cork! Hey fa**ots! If you want to see the f**kin Boss beat the hell out of the Lost Soul just one time, then give me a ‘Hell Yeah’!” The crowd rise to their feet once more, giving a thunderous roar of "HELL… But the Boss interrupts them. Hix SHUT THE f**k UP!! f**k you! I don’t need your permission to put the CzW’s new mascot six feet under! And I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I wasn’t your fa**ot bait bitch, Steve Austin! So you can all sit and spin, f**k your next of kin and back the f**k up before I beat the hell out of all of you as well!” The room grows with the flaring sounds of disapproval and homicidal tendency-ridden cries of the crowd in attendance. Hix And what the hell! I already told you all once…you hang on to every word I say. Hell, you pay f**kin money to hear me talk. I am your f**king GOD…all because I hold a name in the wrestling business. But at least I’m not the only GOD…you have the epitome of hardcore and you have the sensational one as well as well. We are the Inner Circle of the CzW…you hold gold…people pay to see you…they pay to hear you…hell…they pay us to exist…otherwise we’d fade away just like all the other former champs of the CzW.” <p><font color=white>Half of the crowd start to cheer and the other to boo, based solely on their thoughts of the f**kin Boss. Hix Oh yeah, I did a real number on all those assholes I‘ve defeated since comin into the CzW! I felt bad for their idiocy though. Mainly because they just aren’t worth it. Anyone who comes down with a sore throat the minute he knows he has to face me…just isn’t worth it. Completing the mission I’ve set out with, even! Slowly, the f**kin Boss is weeding out all of those deemed “unfit” to survive in our world. Another one that formerly had hope…Eddie Rowan. Where the hell is he? Gone. And if he hadn’t left on his own I’d have sent his ass packing to the emergency room over some “unfinished” business! So who’s left? Maybe Pablo will be a more…worthy opponent. ” The mass begin cheering the name of El Pablo again Hix I beckon the CzW to come and get some. Come Overdrive, I'm going to be fighting Pabs to hell and back. And most likely I will wear my ass out, so everyone will have a good chance at taking the Boss to the woodshed and I invite them...no, I beg them to bring their all out best so we can see just how bad I really f**king am! Pablo is going to learn what I mean about The f**king Boss. My name will finally have definition that everyone can understand.” He smiles again with a twisted grin as the party begins booing him with a thunderous response that shakes the building. Hix Hell, I’m hoping they fight tooth and nail with me, taking the fight as hard as they can. And in the end, they’d better pray that they can dodge the bullet that is the ‘Downward Spiral’. But then again, I am the, time and again, proven best damn brawler this side of professional wrestling or any other extreme bare knuckle sport. And if anyone else dares to prove otherwise, step up and take your ass beating like a man! And if you don’t like that, you can… Fans: “SEEK NEW EMPLOYMENT!!!” Hix You know what? f**k you guys! I was going to say ‘Go f**k Yourself’! What the hell…are you all drunk or somethin. I haven’t said that in almost a year.” The f**kin Boss drops the microphone and walks out to the negative response of every fan in the arena, their screams both deafening and just about intimidating. Clearly, the “f**kin Boss” TJ Hix has made his mark. Once he gets outside, his cell phone rings. Hix pulls it from his pocket. Hix Hey yo…what’s up?” ??? “…” Hix Yeah, you did kinda leave me hangin.” ??? “…” Hix Please dude, save your apologies. I’ll be fine.” ??? “…” Hix Yeah, I’ll try to meet up with ya before the show…but no promises.” ??? “…” Hix Oh no…if she thinks we’re done…she’s dead wrong. ??? “…” Hix Yeah. Alright…peace out.” The camera fades… |
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2:22 PM Jul 11