Post by tommy on Nov 18, 2020 21:41:37 GMT -5
It’s a beautiful, bright warm day in Chicago. The birds are chirping, the kids are laughing and everybody is having a jolly good time listening to Christmas music because it’s not insane to listen to Christmas music before Thanksgiving OK. Who are we kidding here? It’s fucking Chicago. It’s cold, miserable and the faint sound of gunshots can be heard in the distance, but we would rather be nowhere else.
Some hoodlum kids that probably should be in school are kicking a soccer ball around having a good ol’ time when one of them stops and points off in the distance. A camera pans into the distance, but we can’t quite make out what the hell is out there, but it is drawing near. Finally, you are able to put together two horses pulling something tall. A Chariot, perhaps? Mumblings and guesses are heard between the children and as finally we are able to see exactly what is coming our way.
It’s American Tommy!
American Tommy is seen sitting on something being pulled by two horses and the kids laugh and point. He pulls up sitting on a throne that is attached to the top of a porta potty, that is fixed to a set of wheels and being pulled by two actually beautiful clydesdales. The kids are doubled over laughing and Tommy shoots them a stern look.
“What the fuck you guys laughing at?”
“What the fuck you doing, Tommy? You’re on a porta potty.”
“This is the same porta potty that Q Cucks Clan looking mother fucker that I’m facing threw me in that night I missed my match. I searched and searched for it and when I stepped in this one I immediately could tell this was it. It has a very distinctive smell. It smells exactly like Leela Watts’ vagina. I also spent all my allotted money on the horses and Union wouldn’t give me any more money so this had to do. It’s pretty tits though.”
The kids go up and start to pet the horses and Tommy starts pelting them with baby carrots. Why carrots? Tommy is trying to be a healthy boy or he’s eating the horse's treats because he is an asshole. You choose. The kids rub the spots where they were belted and Tommy sneers at them.
“You filthy children stay away from my horses! Just because one probably fucked your mom it doesn’t make it your father! That’s not where you got your long looking face, boy!”
The one kid looks angry as all the others point and laugh at their friend while making horse sounds as they exchange shoulder punches because, well I don’t know why. They compose themselves and finally one of them starts asking Tommy some questions.
“Well, this is going nowhere so we are going to guide you with-”
Tommy throws a carrot at the kid to shut him up.
“Maybe I don’t want this to go anywhere. Maybe I just want to chill with my fucking horses in the middle of Grant Park.”
“But if you win this you have a chance to go on and compete for the War Horse Title!”
Tommy scoffs and shakes his head as fast as he can.
“I absolutely want nothing to do with that title. I’m not getting drafted because I win the War Horse title. In fact, this buggy and I are headed to Canada right after I leave here. I’m dodging the draft, boys! Union ain’t gonna catch me slipping. No way am I getting sent to war just for winning a title! If Donald Trump can get out of the draft for bone spurs I’m gonna have a birth certificate fiasco that rivals President Obama! HELL NO I WON’T GO!”
The boys look at each other like Tommy is crazy and well they might not be wrong, but that is besides the point. The horse face looking one begins to talk.
“Tommy, I don’t think that is how it works, man.”
Tommy brushes a hand towards the child, dismissing him.
“What do you even know, child? War is literally in the title’s name. Why are you even here right now? Aren’t you supposed to be in school ya fucking brat?”
“Let’s just say you don’t get drafted if you win that title…”
“You do, look at Vanilla Isis. He got drafted into a cuck relationship with two of the ugliest fucking people that I would ever want to throuple with for a period of time. What in the actual fuck was he thinking? I mean he’s no fucking looker himself, but goddamn.”
“But what if?”
“I would not enter that throuple you twerp.”
“Goddamn it, Tommy. What if winning a chance to fight for the War Horse title you don’t get drafted.”
Tommy scratches his head and thinks for a bit.
“Well it’s simple, I would easily beat YALL-Qaeda and then whoever the fuck Union put in front of me for War Horse title. Look, if nothing else I need to get revenge on the fact that that stupid Yeehawdist threw me in this very porta potty. That wasn’t a pleasant experience and someone else’s shit nonconsensually entered my mouth. Don’t worry though, I got tested and I am not on the spectrum.”
Tommy sits up straight in his chair on top of the porta potty and looks down at the children.
I’ve heard of the Proud Boy twat around in some of the circles that I run with and if that’s the case I know he is a fine good competitor that just got saddled in a shitty situation. A shitty situation that he caused himself. A shitty situation that just cost him Indy’s title and I watched with a great big smile on my face. You can’t feel sorry for a shittier version of Dakota and I don’t fucking know how that is even possible to be shittier, but he’s managed it. KILL!”
Tommy pretends to shoot himself in the fucking face.
“Yes, please fucking kill me so I don’t have to live in a world with him in it.”
He rolls his eyes and begins talking.
“He’s going to be looking for revenge. He’s going to be looking for someone to take out his frustration and his hatred for the Cuck Duo out on and he’s just going to have to wait a little longer, because I’m ready. I showed that a few months ago when I literally just got off the couch and defeated two of the best here in Union. You don’t have to worry about me because I’ve shown time and time again that I know what I’m doing in that ring, regardless that I get laughed at for how I handle myself outside the ring. Guerrilla Warfare was a minor blip.”
Tommy looks down at the kids and smiles.
“This is all hyperbole anyways, because I’m not getting put in a war I don’t believe in just because I won a chance at a title because I’m very good at my job. Mississippi Burning will not be burning a cross in the middle of a Union ring when we face off if I can help it! It won’t happen on my watch! I know that burning cross is where he gets his powers, but we just can’t allow it.”
“What happens if you lose?”
Tommy shrugs
“I go home and have sex with my hot girlfriend, celebrating the fact that I won't be getting drafted!”
Tommy stomps his foot twice on the top of the porta potty and the door flies open only for an old man to appear sitting in it. He gets up and walks out like it was something you see everyday.
“Get in, Drell. Your poo chariot awaits.”
Some hoodlum kids that probably should be in school are kicking a soccer ball around having a good ol’ time when one of them stops and points off in the distance. A camera pans into the distance, but we can’t quite make out what the hell is out there, but it is drawing near. Finally, you are able to put together two horses pulling something tall. A Chariot, perhaps? Mumblings and guesses are heard between the children and as finally we are able to see exactly what is coming our way.
It’s American Tommy!
American Tommy is seen sitting on something being pulled by two horses and the kids laugh and point. He pulls up sitting on a throne that is attached to the top of a porta potty, that is fixed to a set of wheels and being pulled by two actually beautiful clydesdales. The kids are doubled over laughing and Tommy shoots them a stern look.
“What the fuck you guys laughing at?”
“What the fuck you doing, Tommy? You’re on a porta potty.”
“This is the same porta potty that Q Cucks Clan looking mother fucker that I’m facing threw me in that night I missed my match. I searched and searched for it and when I stepped in this one I immediately could tell this was it. It has a very distinctive smell. It smells exactly like Leela Watts’ vagina. I also spent all my allotted money on the horses and Union wouldn’t give me any more money so this had to do. It’s pretty tits though.”
The kids go up and start to pet the horses and Tommy starts pelting them with baby carrots. Why carrots? Tommy is trying to be a healthy boy or he’s eating the horse's treats because he is an asshole. You choose. The kids rub the spots where they were belted and Tommy sneers at them.
“You filthy children stay away from my horses! Just because one probably fucked your mom it doesn’t make it your father! That’s not where you got your long looking face, boy!”
The one kid looks angry as all the others point and laugh at their friend while making horse sounds as they exchange shoulder punches because, well I don’t know why. They compose themselves and finally one of them starts asking Tommy some questions.
“Well, this is going nowhere so we are going to guide you with-”
Tommy throws a carrot at the kid to shut him up.
“Maybe I don’t want this to go anywhere. Maybe I just want to chill with my fucking horses in the middle of Grant Park.”
“But if you win this you have a chance to go on and compete for the War Horse Title!”
Tommy scoffs and shakes his head as fast as he can.
“I absolutely want nothing to do with that title. I’m not getting drafted because I win the War Horse title. In fact, this buggy and I are headed to Canada right after I leave here. I’m dodging the draft, boys! Union ain’t gonna catch me slipping. No way am I getting sent to war just for winning a title! If Donald Trump can get out of the draft for bone spurs I’m gonna have a birth certificate fiasco that rivals President Obama! HELL NO I WON’T GO!”
The boys look at each other like Tommy is crazy and well they might not be wrong, but that is besides the point. The horse face looking one begins to talk.
“Tommy, I don’t think that is how it works, man.”
Tommy brushes a hand towards the child, dismissing him.
“What do you even know, child? War is literally in the title’s name. Why are you even here right now? Aren’t you supposed to be in school ya fucking brat?”
“Let’s just say you don’t get drafted if you win that title…”
“You do, look at Vanilla Isis. He got drafted into a cuck relationship with two of the ugliest fucking people that I would ever want to throuple with for a period of time. What in the actual fuck was he thinking? I mean he’s no fucking looker himself, but goddamn.”
“But what if?”
“I would not enter that throuple you twerp.”
“Goddamn it, Tommy. What if winning a chance to fight for the War Horse title you don’t get drafted.”
Tommy scratches his head and thinks for a bit.
“Well it’s simple, I would easily beat YALL-Qaeda and then whoever the fuck Union put in front of me for War Horse title. Look, if nothing else I need to get revenge on the fact that that stupid Yeehawdist threw me in this very porta potty. That wasn’t a pleasant experience and someone else’s shit nonconsensually entered my mouth. Don’t worry though, I got tested and I am not on the spectrum.”
Tommy sits up straight in his chair on top of the porta potty and looks down at the children.
I’ve heard of the Proud Boy twat around in some of the circles that I run with and if that’s the case I know he is a fine good competitor that just got saddled in a shitty situation. A shitty situation that he caused himself. A shitty situation that just cost him Indy’s title and I watched with a great big smile on my face. You can’t feel sorry for a shittier version of Dakota and I don’t fucking know how that is even possible to be shittier, but he’s managed it. KILL!”
Tommy pretends to shoot himself in the fucking face.
“Yes, please fucking kill me so I don’t have to live in a world with him in it.”
He rolls his eyes and begins talking.
“He’s going to be looking for revenge. He’s going to be looking for someone to take out his frustration and his hatred for the Cuck Duo out on and he’s just going to have to wait a little longer, because I’m ready. I showed that a few months ago when I literally just got off the couch and defeated two of the best here in Union. You don’t have to worry about me because I’ve shown time and time again that I know what I’m doing in that ring, regardless that I get laughed at for how I handle myself outside the ring. Guerrilla Warfare was a minor blip.”
Tommy looks down at the kids and smiles.
“This is all hyperbole anyways, because I’m not getting put in a war I don’t believe in just because I won a chance at a title because I’m very good at my job. Mississippi Burning will not be burning a cross in the middle of a Union ring when we face off if I can help it! It won’t happen on my watch! I know that burning cross is where he gets his powers, but we just can’t allow it.”
“What happens if you lose?”
Tommy shrugs
“I go home and have sex with my hot girlfriend, celebrating the fact that I won't be getting drafted!”
Tommy stomps his foot twice on the top of the porta potty and the door flies open only for an old man to appear sitting in it. He gets up and walks out like it was something you see everyday.
“Get in, Drell. Your poo chariot awaits.”