Post by Dean Judas on Jun 21, 2016 18:16:10 GMT -5
CHAPTER 4
They All Fall Down
Featuring:
Waking up from a deep sleep I sat up and leaned forward wiping my eyes with my hands. Fuck me; the elevator music that would drive the sanest person insane was already beginning to play. I don’t know why they felt it necessary to play the SAME SHIT over and over just an endless jazzy dumb fucking thing looping constantly…
Grabbing my pillow I covered my face and let out a primal scream into it. Ah, that felt much better. Nothing beats blowing your lungs out in the morning over some stupid nonsense.
The door to my room swung open as a couple of orderlies came inside. One had some shackles and the other had the straightjacket. “You know the drill” said the larger of the two orderlies. I complied and allowed them to lock me up tightly. It was too early to deal with all of this.
“Dr. Hope would like to see you for your one on one time.” The smaller orderly was a bit more upbeat and friendly, it was odd but I was assuming he was new. I had never seen this kid before. Smiling to myself I knew that the moment one of the retards decided to throw their shit at him he’d be singing a totally different tune.
Taking the slow trudge down the hall my shackles clanged along with my shuffling feet. Why did this asshole’s office have to be so far? Oh that’s right, if you’re further away from the madness the less likely it’ll consume you.
Arriving at our destination I was drug inside by the orderlies, one on each arm. Dr. Hope had already been waiting on me as he had his back to me looking out his office view admiring the landscape that surrounded us.
“Mr. Vincent, it is quite nice to have you back yet again. I hope your stay has been much better this time. Last time was unfortunate the way things ended that is…” He chuckled a bit probably remembering how I had some so called friends that pulled some strings to get me released even against his many protests. I simply shrugged off his bullshit.
“You and I never really got to dive into your mental incapacities and figure out just exactly what makes you tick.” Sounding like a line straight out of Hemler’s mouth this Dr. Hope was truly the one that needed to be strapped up and thrown in a padded room.
“Now if I’m understanding everything correctly, it says here that your mother gave you up and just sort of left you at an orphanage? That must’ve been extremely difficult to deal with? Not knowing where you came from or even a shred of knowledge as to who brought you into this world. I sympathize with yo…” Ok that was enough of the buttering me up like I’m some fucking asshole searching for my long lost parents, this dumb twat was sounding like Dr. Phil now.
“Look you don’t know shit about me and you can take your sympathy and choke on it.” Spitting at him I managed to get a little bit of my loogie on his goofy fucking sweater vest. Quickly the orderlies sprang into action and tossed on a stupid looking Hannibal Lecter type mask over my face. If I was Corey Bull I probably would’ve liked the mask and even taken it home. I don’t hide behind shit though.
“Now, now Dean…that’s not the nice way to behave. We’re here to make you a better person and that’s just what I plan on doing. I will fix you Dean Vincent, I will fix you.” Brushing me away with his right hand the orderlies picked me up out of the chair and started to escort me away from this fucking buffoon.
“Make yourself comfortable Dean, you’ll be here for a long duration.” Dr. Hope began chuckling to himself I couldn’t do or say much as I was being forcefully drug off. At least it was better than having to sit there and answer his bullshit. He wasn’t gonna get in my head, nope!
Tossing me back into my room both the orderlies removed the Lecter mask, shackles and straightjacket. Free at least, I felt like the fucking genie in Aladdin. Twisting my body from right to left and back again I cracked my back. Both orderlies appeared a little jumpy as I made my movements. I decided to joke a bit and pretended to lung towards the newbie. I made a mistake as he quickly freaked the fuck out and tasered me.
“SHIT!” I exclaimed loudly and the juice kept on coming. Feeling the volts rush up and down my body from head to toe and back around once more through some sort of loopy loop…this felt incredible yet horrible at the same time. What a fucking rush. My eyes bulged causing the bigger orderly to break it up. Collapsing to all fours I started to breathe heavily catching my breath for a moment. Just as I began to pant they slammed the door and locked it up.
“That was extremely sexy…” Her voice was coming from the adjacent room. Anne had that cool, calm and sultry type of voice. She could’ve made a fortune being a phone sex operator for sure, I’m talking instant wood.
Feeling around the wall that divided us I looked for the right pad to peel back. Grabbing the right corner of the pad I pulled it away from the wall revealing a hole that I climbed through into Anne’s room. Glancing towards her direction I could see her lying on her back in bed looking at me with suggestive intentions.
“Oh come on with it…” My head was getting cloudy again and suddenly a massive migraine pounded my temples like the little drummer boy. I dropped to a knee and slowly sank down to the floor falling unconscious.
Waking up with sweat still falling from my body I looked to my left and Anne was cuddled up next to me fast asleep. With just a small blanket covering us both up I knew what had happened. I have no idea how I even managed to perform in the state that I was in.
The sound of keys jingling could be heard coming closer and closer to my room. I didn’t doubt for a second that the orderlies were coming to check back up on me and either dose me up again or actually let me out to walk around.
“Hey Anne, wake up…” Shaking Anne softly I whispered to her to wake up so she could go back to her room. I still wasn’t even sure how we ended up back in my room in the first place. Her eyes opened up and she made contact with me. I could see she understood the urgency as the handle began to turn. Anne was struggling to peel back the pad and I watched her struggle only to direct my attention to the door that was no being opened. It was too late, now we were fucked.
“Dean, get up. We’re letting you out but you best mind yourself.” The orderly informed me to be on my best behavior. I was utterly shocked that somehow some way Anne had made it back to her room without getting us caught.
Planting one foot in front of the other I walked out with my head held high from not being caught. Quickly I was brought back down to reality as I jumped backwards out of the way. The orderly that was with me turned to join the chase as Ken the enormously fat Samoan ran down the hall naked with his little baby dick and bitch tits flopping around. I had a good laugh but was thankful to not have been pancaked by the freight train the ripped through the hallway.
Strolling through the asylum I noticed the TV flickering static and the elevator music was just about all you could hear. I would destroy that tape if it were the last thing I did.
To the right of the TV were what appeared to be brand new chairs. I couldn’t help myself with how comfortable the chairs looked so I walked over and plopped down. Well fuck me running, the chairs were massage chairs! Vibrating away I sat there enjoying myself. An orderly yelled out to me that there’s a ten minute time limit. The fuck? A time limit on my comfort, I already knew how to get around it.
“Lester!” I shouted out to the psychotic racist who was knuckle deep in his right nostril mining for gold. Taking his sweet as time Lester finally moseyed on over.
“The fuck are these?” Lester put his hand on the other massage chair next to me. I motioned for him to join me and he took a seat to enjoy the massage as well.
Once the ten minutes were up I looked over to Lester and nodded, we both got up per the request of the orderly and proceeded to trade seats. Yeah bitch, reset the timer cause we’ll be here doing this…for quite some time.
Leaning back to further enjoy my massage I was rudely interrupted by Ned Birch standing in front of Lester and I just staring at us blankly. “Fuck you Ned, you’re not gonna sit on these chairs and rub your cock thinkin about schoolboys.” Lester snapped at Ned and without warning Ned’s eyes turned redder than the Devil’s dick. He rushed Lester much to the redneck’s surprise. Toppling over one another they both wrestled around jostling for a dominant position.
“OWWWWW!” Ned cried out loud. I could see the blood pouring down from his neck. Lester had bitten a huge chunk out of Ned’s neck. The staff rushed over in a frenzy to break up the fight.
“Fuckin’ disgusting, you taste like Bengay!” With blood pouring from his mouth Lester spit pieces of flesh out along with the pedo blood.
Just another day in the looney bin…
It’s never been about gold for me, I just take pleasure in being recognized for my greatness. Becoming a champion is the crowning achievement that every pro wrestler dreams of. The moment your music plays signifying that you’ve won tastes so sweet and even more so when there’s a stupid shiny belt that you get handed. If we didn’t have championship belts we’d be fighting for honor and pride. I could live with that. However, it does take away all of the fun. That feeling of ripping away someone’s dreams and taking their precious belt too.
Fucking status.
That’s all it is really. Do I want the NGW Unified Championship belt? Absolutely I do. I want it because Gavin Grimes has it and I’d love to make him cry after I’ve dismantled him, with ease of course. He’d sit at home with his fucking squirrel faced girlfriend; watching Lifetime, eating tubs of ice cream and wallowing in self-pity while I sat back laughing it up in luxury.
I don’t care about anything other than imposing my will and flat out destroying anyone that comes my way.
My whip wasn’t anything fancy, I was happy to have the bit of money that I had received from signing my NGW contract. I wasn’t looking to blow it all and piss everything away like before. I had become a smarter Dean, who knew that another trip to the nut house would do that.
Pulling up into the Gentlemen’s Tattoo Parlor on Vine Street I had planned on getting another tattoo to commemorate my return to pro wrestling. I also wanted to cover up that stupid ass HFF logo I had mixed into my sleeve.
As I parked my Kia Optima the smell of LA street dogs filled my nose. Fuck yeah; I had to get one of those. It had been a while since I had been out and about in my hometown. With all the hustle and bustle of the wrestling business there wasn’t much time for myself. Lucky for me I made short work of Dirk and with a favorable schedule from NGW I had that time now.
Stepping out with my brown leather chukkas hitting the pavement it caused my jeans to hike up a little showing the ankles off. My hair was a mess as I ran my hands through it smoothing it out a tad bit. This LA weather was really starting to heat up. Removing the red and black flannel shirt I tossed it in the back revealing my Death Row shirt that I had cut the sleeves off of and widened the holes to make my lats visible.
The alarm horn sounded as I locked up my car and tossed on my Ray Bans. The hotdog stand was setup just to the left of the entrance. Whipping out my wallet I couldn’t help myself.
“One, with mustard only. Lotta mustard.” I watched as Pablo or Raul or Paco or Sancho or Diego or something like that…he squirt out the mustard and handed me the dog. Fucking delicious. Some of you are probably thinking, Dean you made that seem super homo…no faggots you just don’t understand what an LA Street Dog really is all about. I raised the dog in the air and gave quick cheers along with a twenty to Esteban.
“Grassy ass.” I turned and felt like a kid running around the streets of LA again. Something felt nostalgic about the whole thing. It didn’t last long; I’m not a pussy. Heading into the tattoo shop I was greeted by the receptionist who looked like she took dick for a living.
“Hi, welcome to the Gentlemen’s Tattoo Parlor. Do you have an appointment?” Inquisitively the skank blurted out some bullshit and I nodded letting her know I indeed had an appointment. An old friend of mine had hung up his boots and transferred over to the tattoo artist life.
“Who are you here to see sir?” Again with the questions, I hated her. Shaking my head I pinched the bridge of my nose trying to relieve the pressure I was starting to feel come on. I was getting a migraine because of this dumb cunt. “I’m here to see…”
Quickly I was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice “Dean-O!” The voice shouted out to me and I turned around to see my good friend James Jonas.
“Good to see you James, still taking the Jonas Brothers split hard?” I chuckled a bit as he tapped my back and walked me to his workstation behind the double doors to the right of us.
With everything that had been happening it had all been coming on like a tsunami. It was rolling in quick and the water was getting deep. There wasn’t much I could do to prevent it. Needless to say I was happy to see a familiar face and a friendly one at that. There aren’t many people in this world that I actually liked. I hate just about ninety nine percent of the people I know.
Lying back in the chair he reclined it a bit to allow maximum comfort for me. I could hear the needle being fired up and the ink was about to cover a disgusting part of my life. What a stupid thing for me to have done, getting the HFF logo blasted on my upper arm…it was time to rectify that mistake.
“So you got back into the business huh?” James asked inquisitively. I nodded my head as the needles began to dig into my skin. “It was an easy decision for me, either I could keep doing what I was doing and eventually be homeless or I could sign a contract to get back into the game. Luckily for me I found a home and I found my place once again.” I was trying to distract myself from James’ heavy hand that was roughing up my arm. Jesus he should’ve stuck to his podcast and being a pro wrestling reporter. Oh well, as much as I wanted to slap some sense into him I just took the pain. Yet another prime example as to why I like to roll solo.
I could hear laughter coming from the other room and there was this distinct cackle that I could hear, I knew that sound anywhere. Mr. Dillinger himself was in the same place at the same time as me. The only thing going through my head as I sat there was how quickly could I jump up, grab the gun from Jonas’ hand and proceed to head into the room where Dillinger was and drive the needle into his ear and pierce that fucking brain of his.
“Excuse me…” I got up from my chair with just a black square covering my HFF logo. He didn’t finish the colored sleeve but fuck it I was on a mission. Tearing down the hall faster than a cannonball I kicked the door open practically foaming at the mouth.
Dillinger slowly turned his head only to see the hate in my eyes. Without saying a word he simply lowered his sunglasses and cracked a half grin. Stupid douche nozzle, who the fuck where’s sunglasses inside? Oh yeah, that asshole.
“Well, well, well…look who didn’t die yet. Dean Vincent. Good to see you again kid. How’s life in the metal hospital treating you?” He chuckled a bit slapping me back and forth with this stupid backhanded comments. Fuck him and his bullshit formalities.
“FUCK…YOU!” I stared at him waiting for a response as I told him to simply fuck off with his nonsense.
“Is that any way to treat the man who got you into this business?” Dillinger rubbed his chin a bit expecting me to back off. I didn’t. Instead I lunged towards him tackling him to the ground. We rolled around a bit exchanging punches. I was surprised with how quickly the so-called KING got back up to his feet. The next thing I knew his boot was flying towards my face. Without any remorse he punted my skull and all I can remember is the ringing in my ears followed by darkness.
“Get him an ice pack for his owie. That’s what I do for my daughter. Should work for this moron. James, it was good seeing you again. Enjoy reminiscing with ingrate Judas. I’ll call you over the weekend and we can get together like we talked about.” Dillinger continued to converse with Jonas as I simply lay there unconscious. I wasn’t going to go away quietly either. This wouldn’t be the last time we tangled. Next time I’d get the better of Dillinger and you can bet that I won’t stop and show mercy like he did.
My head was still pounding as I sat back in my recliner. Back at home, in my own private Idaho. I had just purchased myself a comfortable leather recliner. It was easily the nicest piece of furniture I had in my shit hole apartment.
The world continued to turn on its axis and people continued to go on about their daily routines. There were no news headlines about Dillinger and I getting into it at the tattoo parlor. I guess I had to hand it to the cunt for not going public with it and taking some glory for the bullshit scrap we had.
I sat up looking down at the ground as the cameras continued to roll on. I shook my head and knew that the time had come. I hated cameras and I hated having to do this bullshit. Yet it was that time again to cut my promo and there would be no more delaying the inevitable.
“Another day another opponent and another match…maybe this time I could get someone that was worthy of challenging me. Maybe this would be the first time in a long time that someone would be able to match me in the ring. Oh wait…I get to go up against some fucking loser named Shelley. Oh but Dean, you’re only calling her a loser cause she’s facing you at City of Sin…”
I made a blowjob motion with my hand towards my mouth. It was quite the appropriate impersonation of the dumb cunt I was about to face. After all she had openly said she’s not just a rug muncher anymore but a bi-sexual deviant now.
“I call Shelly a loser because it’s the most appropriate word to describe her. She’s always been nobody and will continue to be such. From what I gather, she’s a quitter and the biggest fucking whiner in the industry.”
Clearing my throat I spit on the floor, the maid service would get to it. I never cleaned up shit…that’s women’s work.
“I think it’s pretty clear that as of now I’m the guy to watch. Everyone has been talking about yours truly and what I’m capable of. See the difference between a guy like me and the ninety nine percent is, I don’t give a fuck. You can chastise me for shit I say or make fun of the way I dress and I’ll continue being me. I’m a ruthless, cold-hearted motherfucker who punches and kicks with bad intentions every single time. I’ve made many of men crumble before me and I’ve turned them into hallowed shells of what they once were.”
Striking my right elbow against my left hand I glared at the camera lens. I could literally envision my elbow drilling Shelley right in the jaw, shattering it on impact. What a good feeling.
“Regardless of what the headlines are saying about Dean Judas versus Shelley Silver, we all know that it’s simply HYPE…just a lot of bullshit and empty words thrown around trying to make it seem as though the sexually confused twat stands a chance. I’ve been relishing the moment when someone actually would think in their heart of hearts that they were going to beat me. I’m not talking about someone that cuts a promo and pretends they have confidence and talks up a big game. No, I’m talking about someone that legit believes they can defeat me. Shelley isn’t that person.”
Getting up from my recliner I cracked my neck and pulled a cigarette from my red flannel jacket’s front pocket. I loved my red and black flannel, even with this hundred-degree weather.
“Somehow I have a strong feeling that Shelley is going to fade into the abyss and be long forgotten after our match. With the amount of whinnying and bitching she does I’m willing to bet her entire promo will come off like a giant PMS fueled rant.”
Firing up my cigarette I inhaled deeply and exhaled a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. I could see the cameraman start to fan the cloud away and begin to cough. I simply chuckled at the virgin before me.
“Dean, just because she’s a female doesn’t mean she’s like all of the others. Yes it does, it’s science. She’s a woman and I’m a man. I don’t wear my emotions on my sleeve, I don’t cry about some unfortunate bullshit that’s happened to me, and I don’t bleed for a week straight either.”
Running my hand threw my own bird’s nest of hair I smiled thinking about how stupid Shelley looked and how her sensitivity would probably get the better of her thus making her feel less about herself than she already did. It was so easy to get under people’s skin and picking them apart.
“Stupid fucking twat…”
Shaking my head yet again with smoke trickling down and out of my nostrils I ashed on the carpet. Like I said, I don’t clean shit.
“I’m sure we’ll see Shelley chastise me for my upbringing and my mental state of mind. Whatever, stroke me, stroke me. You can throw stones and make claims against my character and outlook on life. That’s ok, everyone has always tried to figure me out and everyone thinks that somehow they fucking know me. You don’t know me and you don’t know shit about shit.”
“The difference between Shelley and myself is quite obvious. You see someone like her, she’s striving for greatness and struggling to do so. I mean sure she can try and sell everyone on her previous accomplishments or her success in whatever dumpster fire organization that actually allowed her to compete in. But she’s shown weakness and her weakness is crystal clear…she doesn’t even know herself.”
“Shelley doesn’t know herself. She doesn’t know who or what she is. I mean just rewind the tape to last week…”
Taking another deep drag off of my cigarette I blew the smoke out one last time before dropping it on the carpet and grinding it in with my black leather chukkas. Momentarily glancing down to ensure the cigarette had been extinguished I fixated my focus back to the camera.
“We watched on as the train wreck of a promo continued to roll, Shelley practically had tears pouring out of her eye sockets. The salt was flowing heavily, so much so that deer, cows, elephants and moose were all lining up to get a taste.”
With both hands I brushed under my cheeks to emulate someone that would be crying their eyes out. I even threw in a few sniffles for an added effect.
“Crying about one person’s actions towards you is pathetic. All I heard in her promo was boo-fucking-hoo. For someone that acts tough and acts like nothing anyone says can bother her, she sure was bothered by some WORDS. Not just any words but words that came from Gavin Garbage and Ashleigh Jeric-ho. If those two retards can break you down as easily as they did…after we’re through here…you’ll probably kill yourself. Granted, that’d do us all a HUGE favor…”
Shrugging my shoulders a bit I simply grinned looking down at the carpet and the burn mark I had made. Well there’s no cleaning that burn mark. Oh well.
“I digress…look, we can have a nice little exchange of words go back and forth trading insults…I much prefer to kick your teeth down your throat and make you fucking choke on them…I want to embarrass you and show everyone how much of a fraud you are.“
Gritting my teeth, my facial expression told the story.
“Talk is just that…talk. So run your mouth or run for the hills…either way come City of Sin the MONSTER will be coming for you. Dean FUCKING Judas is a maniac on the loose and I’m coming to take everything from you.”
Standing up from my comfortable recliner I began to pace around the room. Calmly with my hands folded behind me I walked back and forth never falling out of the camera’s view.
“I don’t know what you think is going to happen in this match. Somehow I think you’re convinced that this is fantasyland and that everything should be handed to you. You sound like the piece of shit general population that’s always dying for a fucking handout. Oh, it’s angled, the match went that way for storyline purposes. What the FUCKING FUCK were you even going on about? Do you actually think that there’s this big secret society that predetermines the results for our matches? Someone needs to drug test Shelley cause she’s higher than Ace Static.”
Yet again another shake of the head, I continued my methodical march back and forth like the general of an army. Left, right, left and repeat.
“Shelley, you can think that when you walk out to the ring to meet me for battle that maybe Devlin might’ve put in the fix and that I’m going to take a fall for you. Come with that thought process and I will fucking DESTROY you. This isn’t monopoly, this isn’t chutes and ladders, and it certainly isn’t some fucked up version of twister…nothing about this is a game. You think this is a fucking game? Train your hardest doing mock duck, duck, goose tournaments and when you sit down in the ring to start the “game” I’ll swiftly kick your skull in and call it a night.”
Stopping in my tracks I did a quick about face to the camera. Facing the camera dead on, it panned in closely to my face.
“It’s only fair that I warn you about your inevitable demise. I feel as though that’s my duty. I mean how could I go on when I knew that Shelley Silver could’ve avoided life in a wheelchair if I had only warned her as to what was to come…”
Laughing hysterically I dropped to my knees like a madman. My laughter was uncontrollable and I could barely contain myself. Struggling for oxygen I gathered it together a bit to continue on.
“You think I give a shit really? Shit Shelley, come to the ring…I’ll hold the bottom rope for you too. You can hop in and we can both look at the ref awaiting the sound of the bell…once the bell rings we can have our match. We can tangle. It just won’t end well for you. I’ve said it to all my opponents so far and I’ll give you the same luxury…”
Crawling on my hands and knees towards the camera I rose up slowly as the camera stayed closely in on me following my every move.
“Don’t show up, it’s that fucking simple. I’ll never understand why people just don’t seem to grasp the concept of not showing up to the fight. It’s not like it’s fucking rocket science…you know you get into a car and you drive to the arena…well some people that are lucky enough have a driver take them but that’s besides the point…just that one step of traveling to the arena, you cut that out and guess what you get to live another day and you get to walk around with your health and limbs still intact.”.
My thoughts began to linger, I was thinking big picture. Shelley was simply just another formality on my way to the top. Snapping back into it I had almost forgot the camera was still rolling. I looked back over my shoulder to the camera.
“You know what they say…you win some, you lose some but you LIVE to fight another day. So take the loss and don’t hitch that ride. Just allow yourself to understand the significance of how that singular decision will impact your future. I think we’re all pretty aware that you’ve begun to take the steps to avoid having to fight me. The rumors of you lawyering up to get out of your contract, all just to avoid facing me. Well, I can’t say I blame you. Look at Kaden Kessler, I destroyed his fucking world and he saved face by retiring. However, he didn’t retire and instead showed up a month later at some shit hole company that gift-wrapped him a championship belt. That’s neither here nor there. The point being, I make people QUIT.”
With a sly grin a snapped a wink at the camera and let out a little chuckle under my breath. Turning back around I faced the camera once more.
“If you show I will mow…you down and fucking demolish every ounce of your being. From top to bottom there will be no remnants left of Shelley Silver.”
“You’ve been warned. You’ve been given the chance of a lifetime to flee and none will be the wiser. Take that march down the ramp and head into the ring in front of the firing squad if you do choose to do so…but when I aim I don’t fucking miss. One shot right between your eyes and it’s lights out forever. Let it all soak in and take time to think this thing through.”
Pointing to my temple with my right hand I raised my right upper lip a little to display frustration.
“Let’s see if Shelley whines and complains some more or if she just goes silently into the night never to be heard from or seen of again. Regardless of what happens, at City of Sin there will be DESTRUCTION…oh the blood, oh the blood, oh the massacre…”
Silently letting my catchphrase fade out I stood there with my eyes ever so intensely fixated on the camera lens. The anger inside me was rising to peak levels as my body began to tremble from the adrenaline.
Fade to black.