Harry Styles is Bae
Jul 22, 2020 21:55:35 GMT -5
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Post by tommy on Jul 22, 2020 21:55:35 GMT -5
Tommy and Ronni are seen walking in a graveyard in a town called, honestly who fucking cares to be honest. They are walking in a goddamn graveyard. Spooky! Anyways, each of them are wearing bright white Niall Horan tour t-shirts, most likely at the suggestion of Tommy. Way to be inconspicuous, Tommy! He is carrying a shovel over his bodybuilder like shoulders while holding Ronni’s hand in the other, who is carrying a flashlight. Tommy has a grin on his face while Ronni looks like she is just there to appease Tommy.
“What are we even doing here, babe?”
He looks at Ronni and doesn’t say a word, just smiles.
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I said we needed a date night.”
“Well you look beautiful either way.”
She smiles. He smiles. He’s such a charmer. Swoon. Barf.
“You never told me why you decided to go back into the wrestling ring?”
Tommy looks down at the ground and sighs.
“It’s not like I had a career threatening injury, I just broke an ankle. Well, some fat doofus broke my ankle. I always had the itch, but I was enjoying spending time with you and getting to know you. An opportunity popped up and it was as simple as that.”
A light bulb went off. No, it really did. The flashlight died and Tommy, isn’t a huge fan of being in a graveyard, at night, without any light. He’s pretty much being a little bitch.
“Glow sticks, now! Light them! I hear footsteps.”
Ronni manages to light hers in an instant as Tommy is still struggling to pull his out of his pocket.
“Don’t you have a video you need to do?”
Tommy is still trying to get his glow stick lit, but struggling as Ronni pulls out her phone and starts filming the love of her life? He follows her cue like a good little boy with a cocky smile.
“4CW is gone and it’s time for me to make a new legacy, and it starts with Dakota Smith and I guess, for only god knows why, AJ Morales.”
He looks dead in the camera and just mouths “why”.
“It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about stepping into a wrestling ring. My end in 4CW wasn’t near as glamorous as the rest of my run there and it left a bad taste in my mouth. From losing to Laughlin before Fright Night to Perry fucking up my ankle on purpose and putting me out of action, it’s not how I wanted to end my time in the federation that made me into a superstar. For better or worse, I’m the wrestler I am today because of the onslaught of top-tier talent that roamed those halls, but none of that matters anymore. I’ve been out of action for almost ten months because constantly fucking people up eventually takes a toll on your body, but that’s something that most of you in Union don’t understand.”
Tommy throws his some finger guns towards the camera before flexing his muscles, which are huge because he’s a monster. He then goes back to struggling to light that glowstick.
“I’m in a completely new scene, a scene with faces I know very little about. Most people on the shelf would probably keep their eye on the prize but I was too busy trying to have sex with Harry Styles.”
He looks up at Ronni with a sly smile for a reaction as he’s currently failing at lighting the glow stick over his knee. She just shakes her head with a smirk on her face.
“...I mean my girlfriend.”
He laughs and gives a thumbs up before he continues.
“But you know, there is a difference between other people and I. I started my reign of terror with less than four months in experience under my belt and I never let up the gas on a road with very little speed bumps. One of those speed bumps is in this match, but I’ll get to charity later. I’m not one to talk myself up, but I might be a bit of a wrestling prodigy. You don’t get a hip toss like mine without being one, guys. Name a hip toss better than mine. You can’t!”
His expression changes and looks as if his stomach went sour, but it’s nothing more than his visceral reaction to one of his opponents.
“I’m actually surprised to see you wrestling after 4CW closed, Dakota. I think we all pegged you for the guy that would be giving blumpkins in the back bathroom of a seedy adult video store to supplement his income after the checks stopped from 4CW. Or dead for that matter, which honestly we all would have preferred was the case. We all know you ain’t no clairvoyant, because you sure as fuck didn’t nail that premonition at Coup de Grace did ya. Let’s be honest here, you don’t seem like the type of person that would save his money, so it’s not really all that surprising. Not even for a child that you are pretending is yours.”
Tommy throws his hand towards the camera in dismissal and turns his focus back to the glow stick.
“What isn’t surprising is you fucking up in grand fashion like usual, but this time you couldn’t even get a single defense before you did it. Bryan Williams. You let Bryan Williams get one over on you for the Union Battleground Championship. Butcher this. Butcher that. Maggots. Knives. “Cavalcade of Destruction.” All your stupid word play and threats of violence and you let a fucking bootleg big bird beat you. It’s kinda funny that you told him that you “couldn’t watch him flop around this industry like a fish out of water any longer” cause honestly, what the fuck have you been doing in the last two years? Other than dropping the ball, over and over and over again. I certainly wouldn’t be standing there resting on my laurel of a defenseless world title reign you stupid fucking transition champion, but to each their own I suppose. Your “crimson path” is looking more like a trail on Gumdrop Mountain, mate. It’s nice to see you aren’t too high on yourself all the time to fight over a stupid moniker with a dejected juggalo.”
He pulls out a floppy rubber knife and tosses it to the ground laughing.
“The industry is running, while you're crawling, Dakota. Get out while you still have an ounce of dignity left.”
Tommy rolls his eyes and gags, but doesn’t barf, because who knows what karma you would get for throwing up in a graveyard.
“AJ, I could go on a list things you’ve won or currently hold, but honestly, like everybody else in the world, I just don’t fucking care. To be honest, if you put enough chum in the water you’re bound to catch things eventually, which is exactly what you do. How does it feel to be as decorated as yourself and anybody that matters still thinks you are absolute shit? How does it feel to still have to be pulled into a main event when you should be able to get in one on your name recognition and “accolades” alone? Your lips flap in the wind about yourself more than your tag partners' disgustingly large pussy lips do, but the only difference is her lips are saying something useful. In more simple terms, I much rather listen to someone queef their monologue than anything that ever comes out of your mouth. Everything you say falls on deaf ears, man. Who the fuck did you snow to become a commissioner of anything? The only thing I want to hear you announce is your obituary you stupid muppet. Win something that fucking matters and I’ll give you an atta boy. Is this your time? No, but you’ll say it is like every other match.”
Tommy shakes his head no, because no he wouldn’t. Fuck AJ.
“You beat Manny and I for the tag team championships after how many failed attempts because I went and ruined the team chemistry by tag teaming Manny’s mom with Jett Wilder after a night out. The better team absolutely did not win that night, but that’s OK. You did me a favor and I was able to distance myself away from Manny and his stalker mom. The thing is, unlike you, my specialty is not tag team wrestling and you couldn’t even hold that title for a defense, much like Dakota.”
He almost takes his shoes off to continue his count, but he stops himself. Decorum is everything he is about.
“Unlike both of you, I know how to actually defend titles, lift titles to new heights.”
He puts his hands under his head and does a cute little pose.
“This may be my first time stepping into a Union ring, but let it be known that’s my fucking ring, mate. I saw you get excited when this match was announced, AJ and I know you think you want this, but you honestly don’t. I have nothing to lose in this match. What’s going to be your excuses when someone who hasn’t wrestled in ten months kicks both your asses? When I drop one of you on your back with the greatest move known to wrestling, the YoYo Toss Salad, and get that three count?”
Tommy walks over to the tree and starts hitting the glow stick against it, but it’s not lighting.
“I know everybody thinks I’m burnt toast here after my downtime, but I’m always the fucking bread motherfuckers. Money.”
He bites into it and he still can’t get it to light!
“I must have gotten a military grade one”
Ronni walks over and grabs it and instantly lights it up and hands it to Tommy with a smile. As she hands it to him the glow stick breaks and illuminates his pants in the green stuff inside the glow stick. He takes off his pants and wraps them around a stick, illuminating the ground below him as she shakes her head. He grabs a shovel and starts digging.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m digging Union’s grave, because if these are the opponents I’m going to be facing on the regular nobody stands a fucking chance.”
Tommy does a superman pose and the camera zooms in on his illuminated underoos and MASSIVE bulge as a yelling is heard in the background.
“Run!”
“What are we even doing here, babe?”
He looks at Ronni and doesn’t say a word, just smiles.
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I said we needed a date night.”
“Well you look beautiful either way.”
She smiles. He smiles. He’s such a charmer. Swoon. Barf.
“You never told me why you decided to go back into the wrestling ring?”
Tommy looks down at the ground and sighs.
“It’s not like I had a career threatening injury, I just broke an ankle. Well, some fat doofus broke my ankle. I always had the itch, but I was enjoying spending time with you and getting to know you. An opportunity popped up and it was as simple as that.”
A light bulb went off. No, it really did. The flashlight died and Tommy, isn’t a huge fan of being in a graveyard, at night, without any light. He’s pretty much being a little bitch.
“Glow sticks, now! Light them! I hear footsteps.”
Ronni manages to light hers in an instant as Tommy is still struggling to pull his out of his pocket.
“Don’t you have a video you need to do?”
Tommy is still trying to get his glow stick lit, but struggling as Ronni pulls out her phone and starts filming the love of her life? He follows her cue like a good little boy with a cocky smile.
“4CW is gone and it’s time for me to make a new legacy, and it starts with Dakota Smith and I guess, for only god knows why, AJ Morales.”
He looks dead in the camera and just mouths “why”.
“It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about stepping into a wrestling ring. My end in 4CW wasn’t near as glamorous as the rest of my run there and it left a bad taste in my mouth. From losing to Laughlin before Fright Night to Perry fucking up my ankle on purpose and putting me out of action, it’s not how I wanted to end my time in the federation that made me into a superstar. For better or worse, I’m the wrestler I am today because of the onslaught of top-tier talent that roamed those halls, but none of that matters anymore. I’ve been out of action for almost ten months because constantly fucking people up eventually takes a toll on your body, but that’s something that most of you in Union don’t understand.”
Tommy throws his some finger guns towards the camera before flexing his muscles, which are huge because he’s a monster. He then goes back to struggling to light that glowstick.
“I’m in a completely new scene, a scene with faces I know very little about. Most people on the shelf would probably keep their eye on the prize but I was too busy trying to have sex with Harry Styles.”
He looks up at Ronni with a sly smile for a reaction as he’s currently failing at lighting the glow stick over his knee. She just shakes her head with a smirk on her face.
“...I mean my girlfriend.”
He laughs and gives a thumbs up before he continues.
“But you know, there is a difference between other people and I. I started my reign of terror with less than four months in experience under my belt and I never let up the gas on a road with very little speed bumps. One of those speed bumps is in this match, but I’ll get to charity later. I’m not one to talk myself up, but I might be a bit of a wrestling prodigy. You don’t get a hip toss like mine without being one, guys. Name a hip toss better than mine. You can’t!”
His expression changes and looks as if his stomach went sour, but it’s nothing more than his visceral reaction to one of his opponents.
“I’m actually surprised to see you wrestling after 4CW closed, Dakota. I think we all pegged you for the guy that would be giving blumpkins in the back bathroom of a seedy adult video store to supplement his income after the checks stopped from 4CW. Or dead for that matter, which honestly we all would have preferred was the case. We all know you ain’t no clairvoyant, because you sure as fuck didn’t nail that premonition at Coup de Grace did ya. Let’s be honest here, you don’t seem like the type of person that would save his money, so it’s not really all that surprising. Not even for a child that you are pretending is yours.”
Tommy throws his hand towards the camera in dismissal and turns his focus back to the glow stick.
“What isn’t surprising is you fucking up in grand fashion like usual, but this time you couldn’t even get a single defense before you did it. Bryan Williams. You let Bryan Williams get one over on you for the Union Battleground Championship. Butcher this. Butcher that. Maggots. Knives. “Cavalcade of Destruction.” All your stupid word play and threats of violence and you let a fucking bootleg big bird beat you. It’s kinda funny that you told him that you “couldn’t watch him flop around this industry like a fish out of water any longer” cause honestly, what the fuck have you been doing in the last two years? Other than dropping the ball, over and over and over again. I certainly wouldn’t be standing there resting on my laurel of a defenseless world title reign you stupid fucking transition champion, but to each their own I suppose. Your “crimson path” is looking more like a trail on Gumdrop Mountain, mate. It’s nice to see you aren’t too high on yourself all the time to fight over a stupid moniker with a dejected juggalo.”
He pulls out a floppy rubber knife and tosses it to the ground laughing.
“The industry is running, while you're crawling, Dakota. Get out while you still have an ounce of dignity left.”
Tommy rolls his eyes and gags, but doesn’t barf, because who knows what karma you would get for throwing up in a graveyard.
“AJ, I could go on a list things you’ve won or currently hold, but honestly, like everybody else in the world, I just don’t fucking care. To be honest, if you put enough chum in the water you’re bound to catch things eventually, which is exactly what you do. How does it feel to be as decorated as yourself and anybody that matters still thinks you are absolute shit? How does it feel to still have to be pulled into a main event when you should be able to get in one on your name recognition and “accolades” alone? Your lips flap in the wind about yourself more than your tag partners' disgustingly large pussy lips do, but the only difference is her lips are saying something useful. In more simple terms, I much rather listen to someone queef their monologue than anything that ever comes out of your mouth. Everything you say falls on deaf ears, man. Who the fuck did you snow to become a commissioner of anything? The only thing I want to hear you announce is your obituary you stupid muppet. Win something that fucking matters and I’ll give you an atta boy. Is this your time? No, but you’ll say it is like every other match.”
Tommy shakes his head no, because no he wouldn’t. Fuck AJ.
“You beat Manny and I for the tag team championships after how many failed attempts because I went and ruined the team chemistry by tag teaming Manny’s mom with Jett Wilder after a night out. The better team absolutely did not win that night, but that’s OK. You did me a favor and I was able to distance myself away from Manny and his stalker mom. The thing is, unlike you, my specialty is not tag team wrestling and you couldn’t even hold that title for a defense, much like Dakota.”
He almost takes his shoes off to continue his count, but he stops himself. Decorum is everything he is about.
“Unlike both of you, I know how to actually defend titles, lift titles to new heights.”
He puts his hands under his head and does a cute little pose.
“This may be my first time stepping into a Union ring, but let it be known that’s my fucking ring, mate. I saw you get excited when this match was announced, AJ and I know you think you want this, but you honestly don’t. I have nothing to lose in this match. What’s going to be your excuses when someone who hasn’t wrestled in ten months kicks both your asses? When I drop one of you on your back with the greatest move known to wrestling, the YoYo Toss Salad, and get that three count?”
Tommy walks over to the tree and starts hitting the glow stick against it, but it’s not lighting.
“I know everybody thinks I’m burnt toast here after my downtime, but I’m always the fucking bread motherfuckers. Money.”
He bites into it and he still can’t get it to light!
“I must have gotten a military grade one”
Ronni walks over and grabs it and instantly lights it up and hands it to Tommy with a smile. As she hands it to him the glow stick breaks and illuminates his pants in the green stuff inside the glow stick. He takes off his pants and wraps them around a stick, illuminating the ground below him as she shakes her head. He grabs a shovel and starts digging.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m digging Union’s grave, because if these are the opponents I’m going to be facing on the regular nobody stands a fucking chance.”
Tommy does a superman pose and the camera zooms in on his illuminated underoos and MASSIVE bulge as a yelling is heard in the background.
“Run!”