NO ZOMO

NO ZOMO

Posted on May 12, 2021 at 8:52 pm by Cancer Jiles

To Be Clear
The Back Of The Book Cover
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“Darin Zion has been running with a pair of scissors in his hand for his entire career. Finally, and with a little help from me, he’ll have a use for them.” – World Champion two times over, unquestioned and without rival LEADER of the Best Alliance, Cancer Jiles, when asked about the upside to clipping Darin Scissorhands’ wings.

“He is absolutely the best of us. I’d take a Darin Zion bullet for him after everything he has done for me. The guy is great. Really, he is. He does what he wants, when he wants, how he wants. He is one to idolize, and dream of becoming. I know the fourteen through eighteen year old version of me would have had his poster on the wall. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really fortunate to be a headrest for his jockstrap.” – Steve Harrison, on what it’s been like living inside of Cancer Jiles’ ENORMOUS, Championship shadow.

“He is an extension of me, and therefore I am an extension of him. If my word is bond, so is his.” – GOD, Owner, Operator, and Ticket Sales Edificando of High Octane Wrestling, Lee Best, on the amount of power and authority Cancer Jiles wields within the Best Alliance.

“GIT GUD SCURB.” – Known fraud, Conor Fuse, ABSOLUTELY to a 12 year old with laggy internet.

“Fodsomething.” – Jarr Starr Binks.

“Unsurprisingly, it was Merideth Wonderland in the Titanic Insane Asylum who fired the shot from the Bronze Revolver that killed Noaht Handsome.” — Excerpt from the autobiography of Zarin Diotthews titled: Tales of Superstition; My Time Spring Breaking Cambodian Skulls in Cambodia.

“Have you ever seen the movie, Man of Fire?” – Smokey the Bear Parker Davidson while talking to a group of future campers about the importance of only you can prevent forest fires from happening inside of California locker rooms. Oh, and also while talking to All Day Ray’s insurance company.

“Sucks you won’t be there for the war, Darin. It really does. I almost want to lay down to ensure you are part of the Union team, therefore increasing my odds of retaining inside the Tokyo Dome. Oh well. Try taking some solace in the fact that you will be its first casualty though.” – Me, just now.

“Yep. I’m fucked.” – Darin Zion while free falling off the side of the ship after his match at Refueled 63.

To Be Clear
Page One
Have I Told You I Am Going To Throw You Off The Ship Yet?

Yeah, it’s going to be one of those, Dare In. Sit down and enjoy, because not only can I smell the incense but I can taste it, too. Do be warned my oddly enough still wet behind the ears veteran of the sport; it’s the kind you smell when your head is down at church and not the kind you’d smell back in my dorm room from a time long forgotten.

Wink. Wink.

You know what that means, right?

Not the college pot joke, but the incense bit.

Stop smiling, Darin, of course you don’t.

It means we’re all gathering this Saturday night to say goodbye to one of our own.

When I say we, I mean WE. The entirety of the Best Alliance. The local Union. Cracker Jack and the rest of his Prized Toy Pops. Benny. Joe. The new guy, Dan Ryan. Heck, even our crippled and fearless Captain will be wheeling himself and his neck brace out from the shadows to pay his final respects.

That’s not all…

Meredont will be there. The drill sergeant who told you about GI Jane and taught you how to pull the wings off of a fly is coming. It wasn’t easy finding him, but even that OLD hack trainer you had, whatever the fuck his name is, he’s even coming.

Fuck.

Now it’s going to bother me. Mickey, was it? I know it was on the head. Maybe it was Rocky Zalboa? HA. You precious fucking ant. Please don’t spend your time answering, because I could give not a single fuck, Darin.

Instead you should rejoice, Darin. It might seem like sad days are ahead of you, and they are, but at least everyone will be there to finally see it happen.

I’m finally going to put you over, Bud.

Board that is.

HA.

To Be Clear
Page Two
The Odds Are Not In Your Favor, But When Were They?

Three on One.

As the away team.

How do you even prepare for such a thing, Darin?

Sure, Solex is one of them, but still. Jace just left Mom with a bushel of stems on Mother’s Day, and I need no other explanation other than SALT.

Some rough sailing ahead, no doubt, my friend.

No doubt.

Makes it all seem kind of pointless, doesn’t it Darin? Instead of jumping over buildings and catching speeding bullets, you should be spending whatever time you have left packing up your bags and getting your affairs in order.

To be clear, when I say affairs I mean like your last will and testament, and not that romp with Hollywood back in 2016.

Don’t forget to erase the web history on all of your devices, too. How things go down Saturday on the USS Octane is going to be embarrassing enough for you. I’d hate for it to get any worse when people find out you never actually sniped anyone before and instead chose to base your prepubescent life on a Tom Clancy webcomic that you liked the pictures in.

BANG. DED.

Maybe go on a shopping spree. Do some good before you go, and donate whatever it is you buy to the Hollywood School for the Blind. You’re not going to need it. Trust me. Saturday night I will have the time, pal. Bed. Bath. And the Great BEYOND for you.

You’ve had a good run. It ends.

You’ve done good by the company. Don’t worry about it anymore.

You will be remembered as… well, you will be remembered. That’s for sure. Maybe more so than anybody else.

All that said, Darin, be sure to find the time to take one final bow before I THROW YOU THE FUCK OFF OF IT.

HAHAHAHAHA. HA. NOW THAT’S A FUCKING SHIP JOKE WITH SOME POP, SANS THE CORN.

THE BOW OF THE SHIP, RHYMES WITH CUPID.

NOT WHAT YOU SHOOT ARROWS WITH.

To be clear.

USS Octane
War Room
To Be PERFECTLY Clear

You know the look.

Let’s call it a four letter word that means better than best and starts with a C and ends with an L, look.

COIL? CARL? CALL? CURL? CELL?

Find a bridge.

It’s me you insipid scoundrels.

COOL.

My BA-Shades are on. I’m covered in gold. The funeral black tracksuit on my body is straight dripping of death. My hair is Vidal Sassooning the absolute most out of life. I’m atop my plush, 97red throne. I’ve got my fern next to me, and compared to Darin Zion I have all the time in the world.

ACTION~!

“My man. The BIG Z. Before we get to it, good luck. We’ve both been around for a minute, and we both know this is the end for you. I don’t see the sense in being hostile with the writing already on the wall.”

I nod, and flash a thumbs up to let Darin and everyone know it will be okay. The rest of us will survive, and we will press on in his absence. It might not be as stubborn as he’d like it to be, but take what you can get is what I say.

“That said, I saw on the Blue Bird the other day that your buddy is hanging them up after all these years.”

A short snicker, because unlike everyone else I know where this is going and struggle to contain my COOLYMPIAN reserve. FOR ONCE. Sue me.

“What are the odds that Noah is just in time to join his old partner in ear, nose, and throat crime?”

Jerk off hand motion.

“Yes Darin, TO BE CLEAR, that means you should be worried that the next time I see you will be the last time I, or anyone else for matter sees you.”

Quickly, I shoot out an assertive open hand to help clarify what comes next, as opposed to my prior limp wristed effort.

“Now, I don’t mean to sound threatening. I don’t mean to scare you. I’m not that guy. I’m no killer. I don’t light people on fire. No, that guy sleeps in the room next to mine on the ship.”

A stagnant pause.

“Although, he’s a part of the procession this week so keep that in your back pocket.”

Followed by a friendly wink of cordiality.

“However, harkening back to me not being a threatening type of guy…”

I perk up, roll my shoulders, crack my neck, and then remove my BA-Shades. I wince, as is customary when wearing sunglasses for 48 hours straight and exposing your eyes to the dangers of everyday life.

That’s the gig damn it.

“One second.”

Sincere, I continue talking to my old pal like I have nothing left to offer him but the ABSOLUTE truth.

“Still, I’m going to throw you overboard, Darin. Two hundred and some fifty odd feet into the Pacific Ocean. I don’t know if you will survive, and I am okay with the fact that if you don’t I will never again get to sit back and watch how NOT to do it. What NOT to say. HOW not to wrestle.”

A frown, because it truly is the end of an era.

“It won’t be easy, but damn it I’ll do it. I’m the fucking World Champion after all. If not me, then who?”

A half assed salute.

“It’s been an honor watching you, and doing the exact opposite. See ya later down the road, friend. The water is warm this time of year. It’ll be like you’re taking a bath.”

I hesitate.

“Ya know, I won’t further demoralize your shallow pit of a soul by blowing you a kiss goodbye. You’d probably misinterpret it anyway and call me a Zomo.”

To Be Clear
Page Three
SHOULD I HAVE USED PICTURES OF AMMO INSTEAD?

TO BE CLEAR, DARIN.

I would use the following words to describe you: Twerp. Meager. Feeble. Derelict. Thorn. Crumb. Bum. Idiot. Cupid. Inconceivable. Impossible. DEAD.

Yes, I could keep going but I think you get the point.

Tell me, how is it that Merrideath is still alive? Here she is tethered to you, when in fact I bet she can jump off a bridge with the best of them if given the chance. Probably even has the perfect pair of cement high heels picked out should the opportunity arise. Who knows? Maybe the plank aboard the USS Octane can serve as her runway?

HA.

I know I said a lot of things so far.

I know it might seem as if it’s a bit hot under my better than best collar.

Truthfully, you’d be right to assume so.

Here is why.

This is your life, Darin. Imagine… the WORLD CHAMPION having a bug firmly up his ass about YOU? Now poof, believe it. It shouldn’t be too hard, because it is the world we both live in.

I know, quick, someone turn off the gas.

Or light the fucking match already, AMIRITE?

HA.

MY DEAREST DARIN DOOLITTLE. I hope you can talk to the whole spectrum of Noah’s Ark, because you’ll be taking a dip in shark infested waters when I get done with you. I would have called you Aquaman, but I know you’d have just taken it as a compliment. Ha. ha. HOLLYWOOD BOIYZ.

Not a sneeze, but still, God bless me.

Really though, Darin. You know what has gotten me so worked up? Besides being World Champion and having to defend my BAMBoO Lounge against the likes of you. I know we’ve had our run-ins in the past, and frankly I want you to know that I’ve never forgotten a single one of them. Each time you’ve pinned my shoulders to the mat. Every time you’ve taken the Tag Team Championships FROM ME. (Twice.) I even remember that time you knocked me out of the LBI. Oh, but why stop there though? Let’s not forget when you and your orderly goon squad buried me and my old yolks underneath the Chaos set.

That’s the ironic one, Darin Ball Z. You see, because when me and my new orderly group of Bandits throw you overboard, for the few seconds you’ll be in free fall, you’ll know EXACTLY how I felt on that very same night.

Dead.

Left for, anyway. And no, that’s not a Conor joke.

I hope you can swim, Darin.

I already know you can sink.