Forty Thousand Years

Forty Thousand Years

Posted on April 1, 2021 at 10:50 pm by Hughie Freeman

Evolution would suggest it started with a monkey and a bunch of cavedogs. And what a monkey your man had on his back whenever something didn’t go his way. If history repeated itself then right after March To Glory then your man would of gave GOD the massive: fuck you.

Teddy is right; the biggest advocate of the anti-establishment and low and behold I’m in bed with GOD doing my business. Taxing fisher price stars like there’s no tomorrow and getting paid with dirty sexy money. Times have certainly changed my friends and the evolution in HOW has stopped Hughie Freeman eating out of the trough and on the good plates from the cabinet. 

Thing is, you wonna label me this or that. Go ahead. It’s nothing your man isn’t used to. My whole life I’ve been a no good dirty pikey. But let’s face it.. if you’re names not Google or GOD then you don’t know much at all. In fact Google Hughie Freeman right now and the meaning will tell you that your man cannot be trusted. First search, right off the bat. Haven’t you not learnt anything my friends? Unable to stay in one route, unhappy to make you all feel all cosy and content. Then your man will play the good Catholic schoolboy no problem at all. With trust, respect and filled with the Irish charm on the world. Why? Cos your man can be whoever he wants to be. However Hughie Freeman sees fit and everything you think I ought to be – I’ll be something else. I’ll wear the halo from GOD cos business is booming; taxes are getting paid and bums are getting dealt with. But tomorrow? Who knows.. evolution could start all over again and I’ll be reborn again. Perhaps as a ‘wet behind the ears’ Darin Zion character. Oblivious to the world around him and the untreated words he thinks he can get away with.

Darin my lad.. evolution hasn’t called you to call out every Best Alliance member. This is not a page taken out of The Famous Gypsy Artbook Of Bestence. Or a piece of wool taken from a black sheep from the species your clone fucked. Cos if history was repeating itself and evolution was real then Hughie Freeman would have more than just two hands. But your man just has one heavy fucking shovel for a Fatality Punch instead. 

Sadly, your man has never encountered a creature like The Zion before. You’re sister is your mother, your mother is your brother, you fuck one another.. you’re The Zion family. Got teeth like a rusty combine harvester. After the March To Glory escapades of exercising in turds.. you’ve mutated into The Incredible Sulk. Just not green.. Shitty pigment. You’re mad at the world when really all you need is a good wash. You don’t want no piece of the Best Alliance but you got baby poo clogged in your hair that you have no other option. You reek of pure envy my friend and your man is gunna get rid of the bad smell once and for all. Mate, when you fell in the sewer.. the rats immediately jumped out. No lies. Typical Darin what’s yer face. 

As it stands.. all we have is a gene pool of HOW nearly men or once was. Freeman VS. Matthews. Who’s cock is bigger and who has the biggest balls. You can’t hide behind the lure of a HOW championship this time bonny lad. There’s one narrative: that’s who’s made for this kind of shit with the damn pun completely intended. A one on one fight? Without any other distraction apart from me looking at your dirty face? No problem. These matches are your man’s bread and butter and I’m about to take your face for the biggest ultimate shit known to mankind. 

You wonna be anti-establishment. Fine by me. GOD made this fight my friend.. after your man bashed down GOD’s door chomping at the bit. I’d have happily gave you it at Refueled LVI but you simply get taxed more when it’s inside that ring. You lose Darin and you’re getting taxed as heavy as my right hand collides with your swampy cheekbones. Simple as that. You make your mouth go at the Best Alliance and you’re getting it. Your man just hopes you got a bigger wallet that matches up to your mouth. Cos that’s where it’s gunna hit you this time. First in your primitive jaw and next in your back pocket that’s collected moths. 

It’s not big and it’s not clever. This shit doesn’t make you edgy, Darin. It makes the poor man desperate. Brain Hollywood sure left you skint based off of the choices you are making today. You need an advisor. A financial one at that. And even they’ll tell you to stay out of Hughie Freeman’s business. Best Alliance matters are your man’s matters now. They’re paying me my wages and they’re paying me to tax you common thieves in HOW. Cos you’re all stealing a living and the empty seats simply don’t lie. GOD’s power is in my hands now and when it’s matched with my ready-made in ring style.. you’re heavenly sorry it mugged your face right off come Refueled LVII. 

Unsure of what to call you my friend. When you know exactly what to call me. Aye, you’re damn right I’m as crafty as a fox. I’ll be your mate this week and then the next I’ll wonna cut your throat.. but fella, the name Freeman never changes throughout the process. That stays as solid as a rock. Evolution knows fine well the species of Freeman. That big forehead looking fucker at the end.. answers to Freeman. He fought him back in 2000BC and Freeman ruled the land thereafter. Trust your man. We fight to keep this name going to the bitter twisted end, proudly. There’s no flip-flopping or no disgraced alternatives lying about somewhere in toilet bowls. You’re getting both a Freeman and a fight that says exactly what it says on the tin. No frills, no bad smells, no Scotty’s.

But don’t get it confused, as good as the Freeman name is and holds firm throughout the ages.. Hughie Freeman is always looking to evolve. And they do say it’s the mind that is the most powerful weapon of all. But if you listen to that then you’re as sharp as Darin Zion locking himself into Hollywood’s walk in fridge for the second day in a row. It’s not the mind, it’s a powerful Fatality Punch and goodnight. Please tell me your man is wrong. Go on. Use that little superior brain of yours and tell me I’m not gunna cave your head in. You’ll call the pivot like last time but remember my mate; Hughie Freeman is living in your head rent free. I’m The Landlord, I’m The Taxman.. and there’s nothing you or the other Darin can do about it. Trust me, bonny lad.. there’s not half a brain between you.

But there’s always optimism my friend. That’ll help evolve the idea of you actually beating Hughie Freeman. Optimism like when you’ve been a multiple HOW championship winner, and optimism with wins over Eric Dane living on your Easter tax return. Your damn right when I saw those figures and achievements that this wont be a sweeping visit for The Taxman. Your man will have to work for payment cos you won’t separate with it that easily. You’re definitely a handy customer but WHAT. Debt is debt and you’re indebted to the Best Alliance. There’s certainly a whack from all of the others in it for you too. Your words were taken seriously, Darin and Darin’s twin. You don’t just challenge the Best Alliance. Crazy? Nah mate, you’ve put yourself in the shop window and because of your words your man has to put you through it and bill you for the smashed glass. You’re a nuisance, that’s what you are. A nuisance that gets a little more tender loving care than usual customers just cos of foolish stupid words.

Proof is there my man. Forty thousand years of evolution and we’ve barely even tapped the vastness of it’s potential. Well that’s certainly the case for Hughie Freeman. You Darin.. you’ve already peaked. You peaked with Zion with HOW glory attached to the name and now you’re clutching on with rehashed philosophies. But let me tell you where people like you and guys like Teddy Palmer are so wrong. The narrative may change for Hughie Freeman wherever your man sees fit, but the born and bred philosophy as a fighting man will never subside. Whatever version of Hughie Freeman: the good, the bad, the ugly.. you’re getting a straight up fight.  I’ll bust your chops, and in this scenario: raid your bastard piggy bank.

The law of evolution is quite simple: only the strongest survive. But your man is bigger than the law, I’m telling you. Your man Hughie Freeman can tax the law with a snap of the fingers. This breed of pikey is as strong as ten Redrum’s your man kids you not. And let me tell you, Toxic Crusader.. they’ll be only Hughie Freeman surviving this battle of savage dogs. Cos I’m King Kong Fucking Doggy and this is some animalistic shit your man has got prepped for you son. Savage on your fucking face and dump your ungrateful arse – not in a body bag.. in a GOD throwaway envelope. Cos every last penny counts and repayment is in order. Got you coasting like Flyer when debt needs clearing. Your man starts with you and: insert my fist in your face, please. No problem. Thank-you very much.

On your day you are a handful. Your man knows that. If your man needed an easy ride to that W then my go-to wouldn’t be a match with you Darin. But know this fight had to be made and you need to pay your slanderous debt. Your man marched on into GOD’s cloud and said: please GOD, let him pay every last insult with classic blood money. With delicious mouthy blood that needs transferring into the Best Alliance joint account. Don’t give me bum A or bum B. Give me a fight with either Darin A or Darin B. In fact, both. At the same time in Bobby Dean’s bathroom. 

Your man ain’t telling you to evolve.. Darin Mathews, Darin Zion, Darin Chipmunk, Darin Ratboy. Fuck mate, if you transform yourself any more then you might as well just paint yourself yellow and get the monkeys in the back to give you a robotic voiceover. Just stick to your guns mate, you want Best Alliance.. no problem. You’ll be getting the best of the very best in Hughie Freeman. But at the end of the day when I’ve rinsed you dry and you have to go knocking back on the Hollywood mansion door for charity handout cash.. know your man will be first to say: I hate to say I told you so. I hate to say Freeman is the rare breed of fighting man and you shit yourself. 

Some call it evolution… your man calls it GOD.

Please insert your card,
Please insert your pin.

That will be all.


DRONE SHOT of a huge wastewater treatment plant in New York.

STANDARD SHOT on top of the walkway in the direction of a huge tanker.

The noise levels are increasingly loud as the digester tanks are in full operation. Meanwhile, sat on a deck chair looking out into one of the tanks is Pikey Fuck himself: Hughie Freeman. Failing to mention that a fishing rod is also in use beside him, lined into the tank.

In true pikey fashion, Hughie Freeman has a luminous hi-vis jacket on. Presumably, acting as his disguise.

FREEMAN: Here fishy fishy fishy..

Hughie randomly hoys in a kit-kat.

FREEMAN: Take the bait, aqua-frog.

The Proud Fighting Man does not appear intoxicated but his behaviour undoubtedly is alarming.

FREEMAN: You’re gunna be my prize catch, bonny lad. And when your man wheels you in good and proper you’re going on GOD’s wall!

A shot of the roofs exit door then opens. At afar, a workman seems to be puzzled. Unsure of the situation the workman then decides to walk the distance over to Freeman. However, The Gypo does not falter.


WIDE SHOT of the workman gaining ground. The sound of the wind and turbines dominate the footage. The smell, the putrid smell.. unbearable.

With that, Freeman extravagantly inhales a large part of the air.

FREEMAN: Into the veins.

WORKMAN: What are you doing up here?!

The workman notices the fishing rod immediately and becomes enraged. He holds onto the railing on both sides as Freeman doesn’t even look in his direction.

FREEMAN: Poo-poo choo-choo.


The workman doesn’t hear Freeman but also seems bewildered. However, this time.. Freeman slowly and methodically turns his head in the workman’s direction.

FREEMAN: Poo-poo choo-choo!

Hughie is aggressive in his tone as he holds his glare. He then soon slowly elevates off his chair and becomes practically nose-to-nose with the workmen.

ALTERNATE SHOT on the other side of the tanker and Hughie Freeman without warning Fatality Punches the workman over the railing. Flashback of Hughie whacking The Naked Cowboy busker at MTG instantly comes to mind in the same manner. Regardless, there is no sound from the punch itself as it’s overpowered by turbine noise. The workman plummets down into the tanker with all of the sordid waste water.

CLOSE UP of fishing rod. It begins to shake as the face of Hughie gleams.

FREEMAN: Got myself a live one!

Hughie grabs the rod and begins battling with the predator on the end of the hook. It appears to be one hell of a battle as Hughie frantically wrestles with the rod.

It goes two and throw but Hughie Freeman begins to wheel in his catch. It’s a………………………. Darin Matthews’ wrestling boot. In New York’s utter arse-waste.

Hughie (with his bare hands) unhooks his catch and empties the crap out of the boot. He then stands proudly with it pressed against his face, craving a still from the HOW cameras.