Do PeOpLe StIlL tYpE lIkE tHis?  It’S sToOoPiD.

Do PeOpLe StIlL tYpE lIkE tHis? It’S sToOoPiD.

Posted on February 24, 2023 at 7:30 pm by Jatt Starr

How does one forgive?


One day your competing in the ring with your best friend and the next, your best friend has turned on you and some big galoot damn near cripples you by hitting you with brass knuckles, putting a steel chair around your head and stomping on it causing you to spend some time in a hospital.   An injury so severe, the effects can still be felt to this day.


An especially brutal match.


Slipping in the shower.


Tripping over some homeless dude sleeping on the sidewalk under a pile of newspapers.


One could argue that at least six of one’s losses could be directly the result of this injury.


How can one forgive that?


Especially after the galoot scurried away like a cockroach in some broken down home after someone switches on the lights.


The short answer is:  You can’t.   And nor should you.


You accept the hand you are dealt.   You appreciate what you have while repressing that deep seeded anger and think of the piles and piles of money that is being thrown your way thanks to your generous (if somewhat blasphemous) boss.   You take what you get, what you have spent over twenty years EARNING, and take comfort in the fact that you now own a Rollex.  


You just accept whatever the universe has laid out for you…..


It is by some serendipitous chain of events, you find yourself partnered with the big galoot, you find yourself in a position to bring glory to the company for which you are employed and more importantly, your extremely generous (if somewhat blasphemous) boss.


And yeah, sharing the same air as the big galoot, it can be disconcerting.   It feels almost wrong on some level not exacting some measure of revenge for what he did to you.  It feels almost blasphemous (not even somewhat generous) that the urge to smash the big galoot in the face repeatedly with a red brick until his skull caves and there is nothing left except blood, gray matter, and sausage like viscera has waned.   


It is disturbing that after leaving a conversation with the big galoot not hating him.


It is entirely possible that the fact that they have a common enemy helps matters.


Joe Bergman.


A scoundrel and a villain if there ever was one.  Truly the vilest of the vile.    


Together, you and the big galoot are fighting the good fight.  AA true good versus evil scenario.   For weeks, you have warned the world about Joe Bergman’s evil intent.  They would not listen.   From flashing nuns in New York City Subways to attempting cannibalism on some fat bastard whose diet is ninety percent Twinkies just to see if he can taste the Twinkie to plotting an alien invasion from a planet no one can pronounce.   


They scoffed at you.  They called you a liar.  Delusional.  They say you have an active imagination.


You warn them and their “supposed” hero assaults you and the big galoot in a cowardly, dastardly, and most heinous manner.   One would wonder that whether or not this clearly unprovoked attack was the result of one of the many, many Joe Bergman truths hit maybe a little too close to home.


Which one?


Razor blades in candy apples?


Inventing Candy Corn?


Giving strippers heroin?


Giving strippers cocaine?


Snorting cocaine with or on strippers who were also given heroin?


Giving fake medication to sick children with terminal illnesses claiming it to be “Miracle Milk”?


Wait.   That was more of a Steve Harrison move.


You have more nicknames than Joe Bergman.   You have won more HOW Championships than Joe Bergman.   You have blonder hair than Joe Bergman.  It should be a no brainer that you will be victorious at March to Glory.   It should be a no brainer that you and the Danaconda, the Dandrosphinx, the Pizza with Extra Danchovies, the Danteosaurus, should make short work of Joe Bergman and the wannabe Lee Best follower Scott Stevens.


Scott Stevens, what a weasel.


At least you are not him, right?


At least you are not perpetually associated with a certain lady product no matter how much people wish to leave that in the past.


Have you seen him lately?  Wearing an eyepatch thinking he is Jolly Roger Long Dong Silver?   He’s got the “Dong” part down to a “T”.  That blunderbuss looks like a penis.  A tatted up penis.  A tatted up penis that has a tattoo that says “Me So Corny” with an arrow pointing to his tuckus.  


Oooo that is a good one!  You should save it.  Redundant as it seems to be.


Of course, Scott Stevens has the benefit of cheating Jace Parker Davidson out of that Lethal Lottery Battle Royal a year or two ago.   Disguising himself as a ref, that is a pretty brilliant move.  


Still, next to Bobbbinette Carey and Bryan McVay, he is the least respected HOW Hall of Famer.   Fourth tier.


Not like you.   You are top tier.  The elite of the elite.  An HOW Original.  First Class Hall of Famer.  Winner of the Tournament of Champions.  Multiple HOW World Champion, ICON Champion, Tag Team Champion, and LSD Champion.   The ONLY person to win a championship at a Lethal Lottery.    Thank you, Aceldama.


You shaped the HOW, not that scumbag.   Without the Ruler of Jattlantis, there would be no Max Kael, Maxopetamia, Minister, North Kaelrea.  There would be no Mario Maurako.  There would be no Conor Fuse.   No Steve Harrison.   No Jace Parker Davidson.   Jace.  Good gravy!   He is a Jattlantic City Idol wannabe circa 2003.




Have you fallen so far that you are starting to believe that you peaked nineteen years ago?


Get your head out of your rectal cavity!   


You have got a job to do!   Lee is counting on you to end the Boogerman!


Yeah, yeah, I know!   If Lee hates Joe Bergman so much, then why offer him a lucrative deal to return to the HOW?   Blackmail.  Whatever he has on Lee must be really bad because Lee has done some pretty twisted crap that he is proud of, it is terrifying to think what Lee must have done that he is ashamed of that Joe Bergman would not be extorting him but that he would give in.


It must be thirty times worse than anything Joe Bergman has done, right?


Does it even matter?


Do you even care?   Should you care?


No.   That is none of your business.   The only concern you have is brutalizing Joe Bergman to the point where he needs to get all of his meals through a straw for the rest of his miserable pencil wenis life.    You only need to worry about taking Joe Bergman apart at the joints to the point where he needs to be rolled out of the arena.   You have to worry about Joe Bergman cheating his way to victory.   Joe Bergman is a known groin kicker, a Bang Cocker, a hair puller, an eye scratcher, a testicle tugger, a ball puncher, a referee blinder, a referee briber, just the embodiment of scuzzbucket. 


You also need to worry about keeping your distance from Scott Stevens.   He is a black hole of talent.  Not only does not have any, he will suck the talent from you until you are left as useless as a penis on the Statue of Liberty.


Dan Ryan and Jatt Starr.  Dannon and McStarr-tney.   The Beatles.  No, you are a flipping moron for coming up with that.   You might as well have called yourselves the Douchey Yogurt Crumbums!  


Dan Ryan and Jatt Starr, the A-Team….Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na JATT-DAN!, RyStarr Enterprises…..against Joe Bergman and the Penis.   Come on!  A loss would be an absolute  embarrassment for both you and Dan Ryan.   


You have got his.   It is in the bag.   




:::::SCENE:  The Baron of Boca Jatton stands naked, save for his bright, neon blue skivvies, in front of a bathroom mirror, which is steamed over and dripping with condensation except for a large circular clear spot, created with a white face cloth.   The Mayor of ManJattan’s blonde hair is slicked back as he looks at himself in the mirror.  He nods smugly as his scarred visage looks back it him with equal smugness upon completing his self pep talk, getting himself pumped and ready for the challenge in front of him.     


This is just an exhibition.  Dan Ryan and the Savior of Starrkham are teaming together in the final Chaos before March to Glory for one reason, and one reason alone.   To showcase our natural abilities and chemistry.    


But the Hero of Jattlanta is not a dumbass.   He knows what is up, he has the 4-1-1, as it were, he knows where he is on the Mall Directory.   He knows he cannot just go into this match strutting down the ramp like the cock of the walk while humming the theme to “Rocky”.


As much as he despises Joe Bergman, he cannot underestimate him.   It will take more than his infinite talent to be victorious at “Chaos” (much less “March to Glory”).   It will take confidence.  And after the masterful job the Rembrandt of Wrestling has done hyping himself up for the upcoming battle, it is safe to say, he is brimming with it.    He hears a phrase repeating constantly in his head, “Joe Bergman will lose, Joe Bergman will lose, Joe Bergman will lose….”


Yes.   Yes he will.  END SCENE.:::::