I don’t enjoy shopping.
You’d think I would, but in reality it’s not a fun adventure for me.
I never get recognized, when I should.
It’s always crowded, and I take up a lot of space, so trying to fit down an aisle that is jamb packed, is quite annoying.
Plus fact that whatever I buy I have to lug around later, because apparently you can’t get the person sacking your groceries to come unload them at your house, no matter how much you try to pay them.
And everything always costs an arm and a leg. You’re telling me a can of Spaghetti-O’s is 4 bucks!? I didn’t even go boujee with it, it doesn’t have the little weiners!
That’s why I love shopping at ReeseMart!
It’s never crowded, although the people that are there still don’t recognize me!
The aisles are spaced well for the fat man.
And everything is so cheap!
Why in the world would I be at ReeseMart, you may be wondering. Well, if you didn’t know, I’ve got one of the biggest matches in my life coming up, and I feel ill prepared for. Story of my life, eh? I figure, why not stack the deck in my favor. It’s HOW, and it’s Rumble at the Rock, after all. So I’m going to need whatever advantage I can get!
So there I was, pushing an aluminum shopping cart down the aisle, while trying to ignore that one wheel which refuses to roll properly. My eyes go back and forth, scanning the aisles on each side of me, scowling at the fact that I have yet to see a single thing jump out at me. Don’t get me wrong, QT stocks a fine shelf! But I’m looking for something in particular, but I just can’t seem to figure out what it is exactly…
“Uhm, excuse me,” a timid voice calls out from over my shoulder. I spin around and find a meek looking guy, wearing whatever QT Reese insists his employees wear, standing before me. “Welcome to ReeseMart, can I help fulfill your Deathmatch needs today?”
I smile, looking at the friendly face before me. “Yes, perhaps you can. I need something violent, but something small enough that it can fit in one’s…” I look around cautiously before finishing, “rectum.”
The helpful ReeseMart worker looks around embarrassed, his smile slowly fading as he’s not quite sure how he’s supposed to answer.
“Well, that’s a little difficult to answer,” he says sheepishly. “I mean what size, uhm, rectum are we talking about?” He takes a minute to peek down to my posterior. “Yours may fit a little more than, say mine would…”
“Excellent point!” I say brightly as if this were a normal everyday conversation. “So, let’s use my ass as reference. What could we pack in there?”
“I would imagine, quite a lot actually!” he says back in helper mode. “Have you taken a look at our hockey sticks? The toe of the blade is surrounded with double sided duct tape, with LEGO pieces stuck to it.”
“Hmmmm, next!” I call out.
“How about our improved take on the cattle prod.” he asks while producing said prod from a nearby shelf. “We revamped it with a denser battery to give off more wattage. The original would cause your heart to skip a beat, this will cause it to salsa!”
“Hmmmmm, next!” I call out again.
As this helpful little fellow goes on to show me the next eight products, I keep glancing over his shoulder to a simplistic display. On it, a simple aerosol bottle of hairspray, with an extended Bic lighter Gorilla Glued to the spigot. My eyes light up as I imagine just what kind of damage I could do with that in my hands!
“I think I’ve found what I’ve been looking for!!!’ I immediately rush over to the display and take the bottle of hairspray in hand. I feel complete!
“I’ll take it!!!!” I exclaim, completely missing the wince the youngster gives me as he imagines how I’m going to shove this thing in my ass.
The things I do to win a fucking HOW match…
What you all are afraid to admit is, I AM SIN.
I am the ultimate sin.
Lee took the time and effort to hand pick you all for your specific sin. But let’s be honest, I could have been selected for each and every single one of your roles, because I out sin all of you! 7 Deadly Sins wrapped up in one 5XLT container, known as “Beautiful” Bobby Dean.
Don’t believe me? Allow me to explain.
Sloth, simple, I am the laziest mother fucker here. I have out flaked all of you combined. I have more no-shows than shows. And in the end I take a perverse pride in that! You all put expectations on me and then get upset when I don’t meet them. Have any of you stopped for one moment and asked me what my expectations are? Have I ever shown any interest in winning a single title? Working the best feud? Having the best match? Being in any segment? Hell, have I ever shown an interest in actually winning a single match!? Outside of food, porn, video games, and gifs, have you ever heard me talk about anything else?
You think because I chose to be here in HOW that I wanted to be the best. To compete with the best. Because ultimately that’s what ALL of you think for yourselves! Those are the reasons why YOU chose to be in HOW. Me? I’m here because you don’t have anyone that can fill the niche that I can.
No one can out Bobby, Bobby Dean!
Which leads me to Pride. Solex isn’t arrogant enough to be Pride. He would make a better Sloth to be honest. I mean, that guy does the barest minimum, and that’s okay! The only thing that makes him “Pride” is the fact that he’s more American than anyone here. Fuck, he had a bald eagle perched on his arm, what scream American more than Bald Eagles and billowing Flags!? But you don’t hear him talking about that! If it were me, I’d be shoving that eagle’s beak in all of your fucking faces.
I’m proud of all of my endeavors. I can’t think of one other person who takes pictures of their bowel movements, simply to show others how amazing my shits are. The length, the girth, the sheer volume! It is incredible! If only Nokia could include some sort of smell-a-vision thing on these phones, I’d really impress you!
So no, Solex is not Pride. He doesn’t brag. He doesn’t boast. He doesn’t lord his position over anyone. He acts meek and mild, giving off this “Gee shucks, ho hum” attitude.
Greed? I have literally taken the time to look at every single one of your roster pages, simply to see how much money you’re making, compared to me. I worked my way up to 3rd on the HOW Arcade list. I was gunning for 1st but that fucking old coot deleted it because no one can have anything nice in HOW unless your name ends in Best. The only thing Hollywood is greedy for is Zion’s love. But can you really be “greedy” for a thing when you’re the only one interested in it?
Lust? Fucking Eli had to pull a Bobby Dean here… I mean, shit, I was looking forward to trashing you. Tell you how my Tamagotchi died the other day. So much fire, and now it’s wasted by someone whose only tie to Lust is she had tits. I’m pretty sure my tits were bigger than hers anyway.
Enter Cancer Jiles…
Jiles is the new Lust. Fitting. I can’t really think of anyone who loves himself more than Jiles. Maybe Mike, but I think that’s all an act. Deep down, Mike loathes himself. No, Jiles loves no one more than Jiles himself. He wears those reflected shades so that he can stare back into his own beautiful hazel eyes every waking moment of the day.
It’s hard for me to talk bad about my good friend Cancer, then again, my good friend Jiles turned his back on the Bandits to throw his lot in with the Best Alliance. Perhaps we can chalk that up to the booze, or the simple fact that he will butter Lee’s balls for the miniscule hope that he’ll win a match if he suckles at the teat of the fickle boss?
Now that the Alliance is no more, I wonder how quickly before he comes knocking on my door with his eggs in hand, talking about how great it would be to get the band back together…
Speaking of friends… I guess I have to talk about Envy now, huh? It’s difficult to say that I’m more envious than Doozer… Actually, I can’t. I’ve never met a more envious man than the Dooze. He will go on and on and on about his days in DREAM. His feud with Mike. How he was a force to be reckoned with in the early days of HOW. He’ll talk about how one day he’ll be back on that mountain top again, forgetting that he’s talking to a guy who loves his little cave at the bottom of that heap of shit.
I don’t envy the work it takes to look like Jiles, nor do I envy Scottywood’s liver. I don’t envy Hollywood’s sore rectum or Zion’s overworked dick. I don’t envy Solex’s boring life, or Doozer’s imminent return to the retirement home. About the only thing I’m envious of is QT’s killer ‘stache!
I’ve tried growing a mustache myself, but it comes in patches, and it gets in the way of my eating. There is nothing more annoying than taking a bite of pizza and chewing on pepperoni flavored mustache hairs.
Now onto Gluttony… Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me…
Do I really need to elaborate how *I* out glutton Scottywood!?!?!? So, he drinks too much. He watches too much hockey. He gives himself too many title shots. Oooooooooh!
Seriously. Of all the sins, no one in this world comes close to my level of gluttony, except for maybe Lee and abuse. That fucker loves to abuse!
Lastly, Wrath… Undefeated. Wrestler of the Month. Favorite to win the HOTv title. JJR, what in the world could you be angry over? You’re the flavor of the month for the old man. He sees so much of himself in you right now, you could do no wrong. You’re a newer version of Steve Harrison! Give it time and that new toy feel will wear off and you’ll be just like the rest of us. Shoved in the back corner of the closet to collect dust, wondering when the old man will feel like reminiscing about the good ole days. Just ask Steve, oh wait, Steve is no longer with us.
I wish Lee and I had what you two have. Sorry, maybe I do have some envy in me after all. I mean it’s not as if he and I ever really had “good” ole days together. We can talk about that one time I flaked? Or that other time I flaked? Or that other other time I flaked when he had some cockamamie storyline he wanted to force me into. Ahhh, the good ole days.
I’m sure a lot of you are wondering to yourselves, “How could Bobby Dean, of all people, be considered for Wrath?”
I’ll let you all in on a little known secret. And by little known, I mean, I haven’t told anyone!
I feel like I’m watching a Hortega match here…
I FUCKING HATE YOU ALL!