- Event: #97RED
You got a big dude that tosses you around the ring…so I went and got myself a bigger dude. And blacker. Black dudes are obviously way tougher than white guys and don’t you dare call me racist you catatonic NERD-bitch. That’s a fucking compliment. In case you haven’t been told…or in case you can’t fucking hear anymore either, you paraplegic plebe…it’s NECKBONE Jones.
NECKBONE Jones is without a doubt, the BADDEST motherfucker this side of the Mississippi.
Nervous? You really fuckin’ should be, but don’t get your piss soaked panties all in a bunch just yet. He’s only here to throw me some slowpitch while I take batting practice and clobber a dingers over the left field fence.
Your bullshit little schtick has run its fuckin’ course and at 97Red, so will your NERD-return run in HOW. I cannot wait to pile drive your bitch ass for the second time and then bury your sorry ass twelve feet under the surface of the Earth. Why twelve feet? Cause they put Max Kael six feet under the ground and somehow that nutless prick came back to life and joined PRIME.
Is he a zombie? Someone please enlighten me.
I digress.
Ward, eat a fat dick with these taped promos already. They’re played the fuck out.
And, dude, I can’t believe that I even have to say this: It is not 1997. Where the fuck did you get the VHS tapes with scan lines? Holy shit, I felt like I was in junior high watching the scramble channel and trying to get the antenna just right, all the while hoping my mom doesn’t walk in the room just as a boob fully appears on screen.
But none of this matters anyway, you fucking bum. You know why? Cause that bald, stoney-fuck is barred from ringside. So, please explain to me, how in the actual fuck do you plan on wrestling? You can’t even be trusted with a room temperature jar of squash Gerber right now so what the fuck do you think you are going to do when you’re on your own and in the ring with The Last Man in Wrestling this Sunday, Ward? Jesus…Mike Best told me you were a special kind of shitbrick, but this is way more than I could have ever expected.
Side note: I wish Marvolo was still here.
Goddamnit, I can’t wait to bury my first in your fucking face. I hate you so fucking much. Way more than I probably should, but that’s your fucking fault. You ran around this place for two fucking months telling everyone that you were in it to win it…all for your damn self. You were going to go into War Games and sell every single member of The Final Alliance out so you could try and recapture some kind of former glory. You’re like the fat guy at the bar that only talks about much he rocked at high school football.
I’m not talking about soccer, you Welsch prick.
You’re making a fucking mockery of The Final Alliance with your bullshit, but the time is ticking and your comeuppance is only a few days away.
No one fucking likes you, you crippled bitch. My only hope is that someone smartens up and slips Trent and ounce of weed and have him step on your breathing tube until you keel the fuck over, once and for all.
Let me guess, “What’s an ounce?” God I hate you predictable, British fuckers.
Why can’t you all just be more American?
You know that Trent resents you right? You know that he only puts up with your bullshit cause no one else will take him, right? You realize that he is only by your side because you sign his paychecks, right? The guy deserves a standing ovation for putting up with your bullshit, but you can’t even give him that. What a fucking rip.
He’s smarted up though. He knows what’s coming and he knows that there’s nothing you can do about it. He knows this is a bad matchup for you and that you should turn the other cheek and walk away. Trent knows that you don’t have a leg to stand on in this match, but that no matter what he tries to tell you…you just won’t quit. I know what you’re feeling, Ward. You feel like it’s time that you stood up for yourself, don’t know?
That’s real sweet and all, but you should really listen to your handler, you shit bag: The summer of cripple is over and so is your career, you catatonic fuck.
August 3rd, 2023
0720hrs
Brazil – Heart of the Jungle
In the brutally thick and humid air, a cacophony of groans, cries for help, thuds and smacks reverberates through the thick foliage in the heart of the Brazilian Jungle replacing the usual primate chatter and bird calls. In the midst of the jungle stands the weather-worn, rusty metal building that Steve Solex had set up as a means to train while he searches the seemingly endless jungles for Christopher America. A line of dozens, maybe hundreds, of men in wheelchairs stretches out from the building’s entrance and into the dense vegetation. Each man looks more nervous to the next as they are moved one at a time into the building like boxes on a conveyor belt during inventory month.
Solex stands like a colossus in the middle of the ring, casting a shadow over a wheelchair-ridden Brazilian man. The man shakes nervously as he clutches the handles of his wheelchair with a white knuckled grip. Solex smirks as he stares down at the man, his eyes reflecting the intensity of the warrior that he is…The Last Man in Wrestling.
“All yours,” NECKBONE Jones says as he climbs out of the ring and hops down off the apron.
The air in the building is charged with a nervous tension that reaches its peak as Solex takes a step toward the man. With a sudden surge of adrenaline the man in the wheelchair attempts to wheel himself out of harm’s way, but only wheels himself straight into a right hand from the HOW Hall of Famer that sends him and his wheelchair rolling to the opposite side of the ring. Solex, like a lion attacking his prey, darts across the ring and topples the man over with a Clothesline from Heck.
Outside of the ring, NECKBONE Jones lets out a booming laugh, only adding to the sinister nature of the events unfolding. Meanwhile, in the center of the ring Solex, displaying his uncanny strength, hoists the Brazilian up over his head and unceremoniously dumps the man to the concrete floor below.
The Brazilian man lies motionless on the unforgiving concrete floor, his body battered and bruised after only a few seconds of ring time with Steve Solex.
“Next, goddamnit!” Solex demands with a bellowing shout that bounces off the walls of the rusty metal structure.
NECKBONE’s menacing laugh persists and he begins to wheel the next crippled man up the wheelchair ramp and into the ring. Like the others before him, the wheelchair-bound man braces himself for what lies ahead as Solex slowly and methodically approaches, like a predator stalking his prey. Solex’s locks eyes with the man and without warning Solex lunges over and grabs the man by the throat, immediately ripping him from his wheelchair. The man, unable to balance himself, falls flat on his face in the center of the ring.
Solex slowly marches around the man, looking for an avenue of attack that will help serve him best in his upcoming match against Evan Ward. Solex quickly goes through the memories of his recent matches, attempting to conjure up anything that may help him…and then it hits him.
Lindsay Troy.
Solex plants a boot right into the lower back of the man and then steps over the man’s back and straddles him. Solex uses his powerful quads to secure the man in place as he leans forward, using his body weight to push the man down and he secures both of his hands around the man’s chin. Solex, with immense power, pulls at the man’s chin and leans back with incredible force applying pressure to the lower back and neck of the wheelchaired man.
“CAMO CLUTCH!” NECKBONE Jones roars with excitement, his voice echoing off the metal walls as he slams his hands flat against the ring apron repeatedly.
Solex leans back even further as he applies more pressure to the man’s back and neck. The man attempts to resist, but as the seconds tick by, his resistance begins to falter until he ultimately passes out in the center of the ring.
Once more, NECKBONE Jones bellows out with manic laughter as Solex, like a battle-hardened soldier, marches around the ring. Solex’s eyes burn with a fiery determination as he eagerly waits for NECKBONE to wheel in the next man.
“You have to stop this! That is enough!”
Solex’s head snaps around on a swivel, his eyes immediately locking onto Carmen in the corner of the building. Carmen cries out desperately for Solex to stop but Solex only gives her a snarl as he motions for NECKBONE to wheel in his next victim.
Carmen makes a b-line for the ring apron and slides underneath the bottom rope. She pushes up against Solex, getting only inches from his face. Solex looks down on the woman, exuding the unmatched confidence of a misogynistic alpha-male. Carmen stands her ground and is unwilling to yield as Solex attempts to lightly push her out of his way.
SLAP!
The sudden crack of a perfectly placed slap echoes off the interior walls of the steel structure. Carmen’s right hand lands flush against Solex’s cheek, the impact sharp and resounding. Solex’s head whips to the side, but the look on his face never changes. A welt immediately begins to rise just underneath Solex’s left eye, a testament to the strength behind the slap but Solex never even winces. Instead, he holds out a hand, warding off NECKBONE Jones’ involvement in the situation.
With a deliberate step forward, Solex gets in Carmen’s face and says, “You have no idea what you just did, you fucking bitch!”
AAAAHHHH!!!!!
Carmen screams at the top of her lungs as, wthout warning, NECKBONE yanks back on Carmen’s head with a handful of hair and twists her around.
THROATPUNCH Jones.
Like a pile of bricks, Carmen crumbles down to the ring apron. Solex and NECKBONE Jones both stand over the fallen woman. Solex kneels down and leans over Carmen, a woman he once respected greatly.
“That was a hell of a right hook, but equal rights are a motherfucker,” Solex says with a wink and a smile.
Solex looks up at NECKBONE and shrugs as NECKBONE gives him a sinister smirk and asks, “She kinda looks like Evan Ward, don’t she?”
Solex laughs hysterically at the question but in an instant he immediately turns serious.
“Yeah. She really fuckin’ does. Let’s get her a wheelchair,” Solex says as the scene fades to black.