CORRUPTION 11.3 TRASH-TALKING THREAD

Well if I don't get my chance at 11.3 then know that I'll be aiming for you at the PPV. If you try to sidestep me here and now, I'll take the IOU and attach interest to it for the War Games.

Your name has been called against mine Jaro, so what kind of man are you? The type of man who steps up everytime, or the man who hides behind anything as long as it saves the pain.

So rise up and be all you can be, otherwise its easy to see who will be in the kitchen once your married.

I'll gladly stay in a kitchen and make lasagna all day if it means I don't have to listen one more time to, "I'm going to use you to make a statement, bla bla bla" or "Beating you validates my existence, bla bla bla".

Don't you get it? Anyone who has ever tried to make an example out of me has ended up a bloody flesh stain on the canvas. Do you really think you're good enough to be the first successful candidate, because I've made ground beef out of men a lot better than you.

You won't get a rub from me kid. Nobody ever does.

I don't see how Sheepster gained a rub from me when he beat me in my debut match.

Although, I guess you're right. I was legendary from day one.

BRUSH YA SHOULDERS OFF.

Hello ladies . . . I'm back . . . And I'm hungry for some action . . . Who wants to come play with me? . . . It's been so long since I've had anyone to play with . . .

So I guess we'll have to assume you've been playing with yourself in the meantime...

Oh, he's a sharp one. Just because no one wants your sorry excuse for a prick doesn't mean the rest of don't have a dozen fine ladies begging us for ours. No, it's your skull I want to play with. I miss the feel of bones breaking under my boot.

CXC: Mediocre and insecure? Just shut up and shelf yourself. Like Ali said, "Sit down quick, Joe."

Hahaha. I'll agree to the insecure. Ten solid years of idiot doctors telling me that I'm messed up have definitely left a mark. But Mediocre? Ohh, no no no. Come over here and kneel in front of Daddy, Little Boy. I'll be scraping your delicious little brains off my boot for a week.

CXC: And I thought you were sexually questionable with that homo-reminiscent gaze in your roster pic...

I know! Don't I just look yummy???

Trust me. My sexuality doesn't have a damn thing to do with my abilities.

CXC: Anything to keep away from the fact you're a non-competitor, amirite?

I must be confused. I seem to remember you were the one that brought it up. And who I like to chain up in my bedroom doesn't have a DAMN THING to do with how hard I will curb stomp you in the ring.

CXC: No, but a 2-1 record says you won't.

I have won every match I've shown up to. And I don't feel the need to justify my reasons for no-showing to some prick who has already severely pissed me off.

Ripper wrote:

I must be confused. I seem to remember you were the one that brought it up. And who I like to chain up in my bedroom doesn't have a DAMN THING to do with how hard I will curb stomp you in the ring.

Curb Stomp?

Gimmick infringement, GTFO.

I don't know . . . Boot meets skull meets cold, hard cement seems very . . . Me. Hehehehehe.

Apathy: Why is all this dead weight from Corruption's past returning now that people like me having been carrying this division in the games? As if you have a stake or claim to bringing it greatness? I don't really give a shit about the Division itself. Except when people like yourself fail and cost me victory.

Stay away from FMW. Or I'll permanently put you on a hiatus you won't recover from.

I prefer the shoulders meeting the mat myself.

Then again I'm a traditionalist.

Pride in something you hate? Surely that's an oxymoron Tex.

Hey, Not cool. I wanted to call him out. Jerk.

I'm just kidding, I don't really care. And quite frankly, I could care less about the games. I'm here because I just couldn't resist the delicious smell of blood any longer. I want in the ring. I want to go to town on someone's sorry excuse for a spine with my lovely sledgehammer. I want to releive some tension . . . Hehehe . . .

Apathy: No, you dolt. Pride in winning. Pride in me. Unfortunately, the entire concept of the Games is relying on a team of assholes who don't get along to pull together and aid you to victory. I don't need anyone's help ordinarily but heavy lies the crown of being one of the few entities on Corruption that has yet to lose this cycle.

I don't hate Corruption or like Corruption. I just don't care about it unless there's something in it for me. And if morons like yourself keep losing, it makes me lose.

See how this works?

Ripper wrote:

Hey, Not cool. I wanted to call him out. Jerk.

I'm just kidding, I don't really care. And quite frankly, I could care less about the games. I'm here because I just couldn't resist the delicious smell of blood any longer. I want in the ring. I want to go to town on someone's sorry excuse for a spine with my lovely sledgehammer. I want to releive some tension . . . Hehehe . . .

CXC: Lord knows the only reason you talk this tough is because people have forgotten the reality of how pathetic you were. Anyway, continue.

That's funny. I seem to remember kicking ass last time I was here. Not that it took much.

I guess you could claim that I'm a bit . . . untested. I'm ready though. I'm sooo ready to get back in the ring and play . . .

Late into the night, only a few drinks before last call we join, a man and woman, at the quiet dimly lit bar at the Jacobson Hotel. Two of Full Metal's most illusive and esoteric characters, the man John Derrick; in his latest identity, and Faith McKenzie, the unsolvable puzzle, progeny of the champion. Derrick, has a glass of single-malt nearly as old as his companion, and she just a domestic beer taking after her father more than she'd like. John gesticulates as he tells a story, more animated then he'd normally be perhaps to make up for the decidely one-sided nature of the conversation. The audio picks up with the man at the end of an anecdote.

Doc: And that's when this kid, Damien, blood dripping from his forehead from the mouthful of asphalt he just ate, says: "... it looked smaller from the palm tree."

Faith, who took a precisely timed sip, stifles a honestly earned spit take, composes herself and swallows her beer. She smiles, showing a brite many-tooth smile, a smile that lights up the small out of the way booth. The frankness of her cheer struck Doc like a dart, but the absence of laughter left an awkward moment, Doc taking a gulp of Scotch, while Faith nervously swirls her bottle.

Doc: Yeah, it's hard to imagine how much things change from then, hell, that was fifteen years ago. Things change, I guess.

Faith gives him an indulgent smirk, but the silence falls over the booth again. Doc downs the rest of his drink, a shot of liquid courage.

Doc: That look tells me you're not gonna let me ignore the elephant in the room anymore, huh?

She looks at him and raises her eyebrows, her body language shift noticeably from attentive to inquistive.

Doc: Why did I go out of my why to step up for you, the daughter of the man who stands between me and the championship, when letting you slug it out with PX would've benefitted me more that tonight?

Derrick looks into his glase and sighs

One month ago, I was sitting in a booth like this, not having such lovely company just me and Jim Beam, some divey cholo bar in the middle of Phoenix, pretending like I'd put this all behind me. I look up and see Full Metal on the TV, the main event of Lethal Injection is on. I hadn't even watched the a second of it since I "retired", and I see this woman, knock the block off that guinea prick Romeo. Something about that struck me.

Then I realized it, you were Bill's daughter. I'd heard and seen a lot about you while I was in this World. I can remember hearing the chatter of the people watching, mystified at why you did that. But knowing who are, I knew exactly why you did it, and why no one else understood.

Her eyebrows furrow her focus narrowing as he pauses, signaling to a waitress to set them up again. He brings his right hand down and looks at his palm, rubbing it with his other thumb, a faint fleshy line of scar tissue above the crease. He turns his palm towards her, and points at the faultline.

Doc: My father was a monster. I don't know what old Billy did that soured things between you, but if McKenzie the father was like McKenzie the man I knew, then well, your silence is well earned.

The Old Man, was careful to not any marks on me. He had "care" of me, my younger brother, and my cousin, his brother-in-law's daughter. What he did was made me feel dirtied, implicated, and responsible for his evil. It worked. I could never do anything to stop him, it was Nate, my kid brother who stopped him, broke a gas line with a rock and the old man lights a cigar, and WHOOSH! The house is engulfed. I wake up and the place is an inferno, at that time my cousin was away at girl's boarding school, it was just me, the old man and Nate. So I rush to find him, and he's in his room catatonic, staring at the flames. I manage to carry him out, breaking through the window in the front of the house.

I look at the burning wreak, and I should feel relief, that the seven years of nightmare that I lived in were over. I feel nothing like that, no, I'm terrified, terrified because I see through the window I broke through, a toy car. To be precise, a model, a hand-painted blue '65 Mustang Fastback. It was the last good, fun memory I had of my Dad, not the old man, not the monster that he turned into, my Dad. I was terrified that he was really going to die. In a moment of panic, I try the front door, and recoil in pain as the red hot metal sears my skin. A second later I her the creaking, I dive on my brother and the roof collapses.

For a moment, nothing he did mattered. For a moment I didn't care. I couldn't let him die, he was my Dad.

So, I see you, against what would seem to be common sense, against perhaps your own career interest help your Old Man, I knew exactly why you did it. And I knew no one else would. I helped you because I think you and I can understand each other.

He looks at his hand for a moment longer, when the next round comes. He reaches for his drink, and see that she does the same, but is shocked when he feels the sudden warmth of her hand. He looks up and they lock eyes for a moment before the scene fades out.

It's a warm, but comfortable night as we open the scene in Miami. Dozens of people are waiting in a line outside Mansion which is one of Miami's finest nightclubs. Suddenly we see a black Ferrari pulling up towards the front entrance, and out steps Jeff Watson who is looking his best. He gets checked over for a brief moment, but he enters the club and decides to make his way over to his personal VIP booth to relax for a brief moment before more people are let in.

Jeff: (Inner Thoughts) I don't know what Corruption would have to offer that is different, and exciting from Ammunition. It doesn't matter, because I will become the best that this company has to offer.

He decides to head to the bar, and spots a beautiful Latina woman working in this booth. She notices him for a moment, and tries to hide her interest in him. Then she comes over, and offers him something to drink before they start a conversation.

Bartender: So what can I get for you sweetie?

Jeff: How about a bottle of your most expensive red wine, and bring it over to where I'm sitting here in the booth. And what is your name beautiful?

Bartender: It's Catalina, but you don't have to introduce yourself to me. Everyone knows who you are, but why are you here by yourself?

He takes a sip out of his glass of wine, and thinks over what she just said. Finally he returns his focus to her, and she tries to not be embrassed in front of him.

Jeff: I just needed some time for myself, because I've been very busy trying to decide on what division of Full Metal Wrestling that I want to join. I know that I can become the best that the company has to offer, but somehow I've got to figure which is right for my wrestling style.

Catalina: I'm sure that a good looking, and talented guy such as yourself would have no problem fitting into whatever division that you choose. But you don't mind if i ask you a personal question?

Jeff: No go ahead, because I've got nothing to hide from someone like yourself.

Catalina: So are you currently seeing anyone at the moment? The reason why I ask is that a good looking guy like yourself should have no trouble finding a girlfriend.

He takes another swig out of his glass of wine, and tries to hide his embrassment from her. Suddenly he decides to come clean about why he is currently single.

Jeff: I'm not the type of guy who is wanting to be in a relationship right now, but I was thinking that maybe we could go back to my place later on. I'll understand if you aren't the type of woman to do that, but I would like to get to know you better.

And the scene fades out with her agreeing to meet him later on so that they can get to know each other better. He keeps checking her out, and likes that she has a sexy body. We finally fade to black with the two of them chatting at the bar during another busy night at Mansion.

.....sorry, don't know you bye, but from your intro this is all I could put together about you.

You're so mean.


It's, well frankly it's brilliant.

A+

@O'Rion

So much pwnage in just one paragraph...