Thank You!

Thank You!

Posted on July 6, 2021 at 3:42 am by Clay Byrd

I’d like ta take a minute and introduce myself, my name is Clay Byrd. I’m excited ta make yer acquaintance Mr. Farthington. I’ve heard so much about the boy that makes the arms go snippity snap. It’ll be an honor ta meet ya in the middle of the fightin’ cage. Gosh darn geewillikers, I must ain’t never met no hall of famer before. Has ta make y’all fellers real special.

Almost like yer in some type of special club or somethin’. Do y’all get together and go on trips? Does Disney Cruise let y’all get on the boat ‘round the kids? Did ya get ta meet Mickey Mouse? Do ya get together at the last High Octane show of the year and laugh at the poors who didn’t get in the club? Sounds like a real specialty exclusive gathering of folks with impeccable resumes of unfathomable feats of daring and courage. Men who must be the pillars of the industry even today.

Or… or they aren’t. But I’m not one that will be easily disappointed in the cage Mr. Farthington. Oh no sir. Not by you. Not one lil bit. I’ll be goin’ in there with an absolute legend of the grapplin’ word. A real special fellow with all the great holds that put yer body in a pretzel. Practiced and tried on tons of the less fortunate. Ya did all the grapple things ta the big bad mean men. Goin’ down to the yard and teachin’ those fellas a lesson like they ain’t never seen before. A real exhibition of the grapple fights like nobody had ever imagined let alone laid their meager poor eyes upon. Yer unlike anybody I’ve ever fought in the cage, a technician of technicians. Some would say men like you set a standard. A terrific magnificent standard.

Like gold, yes a golden standard. A wonderful magnificent golden standard of fantastic wonderful magnificent man. How excited should I be Mr. Farthington? I’ll surly learn a thing or two, from the art of the grapplin’ you’ve mastered. I apologize for how I talk Mr. Farthington, I’m tryin’ not to offend ya here. My poor father who grew up with nothin’ while his Daddy fought in the World War Two couldn’t afford a classical education fer me.

He wanted me ta go off ta boardin’ school like the well off, but we just couldn’t afford it. His father tried ta send him ta learn them terrific wrasslin’ moves the British fellers had. But clearly with his sub human intelligence from a mongrel Texan family my Paw just couldn’t fathom all them holds the British boys knew. So maybe ya can give me one a them classes in our fight Mr. Farthington. Ya could show me all the holds with all the things, and maybe my smooth Texas brain could finally manage ta comprehend somethin’ that fantasticly wonderful and magnificent.

Imagine that fer a second Duke of Earl Farthington yer wonderfulness, The Technical clinic ya could put on fer me? Golly gee, it’ll be just like the first time I learned how the money came out of the ATM. I cannot begin ta ponder the awe that I will have fer ya comin’ ta the cage. It’ll be like the heavens opened up and what spilled forth was the Angel of Wrasslin’ himself. Come ta bless me with the knowledge of the good Wrasslin’ works. All the perceivable lessons of the big oochies and lil ouchies. And I’ll take it all in and ask ya “sir can I please have some more?” We can keep goin’ on, and on, just doin’ the grapplin’ holds. It’ll be right fun dear friend.

Now that I think ‘bout it. I think I fought a feller like that in the cage once before. Technical marvel, was gonna tie me in knots. Ended up beatin’ Dan as well, was gonna teach me a mighty grappling lesson. Had one a them fancy rings, had a fun nickname that meant fuck all. He was even a foreign fella. Kept tellin’ me ‘bout the clubs he was in and all the things he’d done forever ago. Sektor! That’s it John Sektor. I think he said somethin’ ‘bout tyin’ me up and puttin’ me in all kinds of holds. Had this real sense of entitlement too. Almost like he just expected ta win.

Then I knocked him the fuck out with a lariat in the middle of the cage. Just like I’m going to do to you.