Post by Kyzer on May 17, 2015 22:37:42 GMT -5
There was once a time when the WFWF was like a pond stocked full of largemouth bass. Everywhere you turned, you bumped into a World Champion or Hall of Famer. Everyone had ambition, everyone had ego and drive. The place I entered in 2005 was vastly different than the current era.
2005 was the era of Stars and Icons.
2015 is the era of Clowns and Goldfish.
I came into a place that had mountains of talent. I could rattle off names that no one would recognize except for the three people left from that era.
Drakz.
Philip “Obo” Schneider.
Michael Kyzer.
Schneider can boast about how he stuck through the place longer and more consistent than anyone. Proud accomplishment. That is like when my son came and told me about using the toilet for first time. Congrats, you didn’t sh~t your pants. Do you want a f~cking award?
It doesn’t matter that I have left and come back a few times. Some people just can’t accept the ten inch c~ck in the room without being jealous regardless of circumstances. Schneider has penis envy of me. It is cool, most guys do.
My point is ten years after I first set foot in the WFWF, I recognize three people from my first day. And with the c~ck sucking Jew retiring, it only leaves two.
Just me and you big boy.
We will be the last relics of a better era. A “Golden” Era.
When I came into the WFWF in 2005, I made people talk. I brought something that no one had ever seen before, I did things people didn’t do at the time. I took a big piss on the past, on the Hall of Famers, on the relics from the previous Era. I called out each and every one of them I could.
And I beat each and every one. I showed no respect. Why should I? Because they accomplished something before I arrived on the scene? I am Michael Kyzer. I was…am beyond reproach. I did…do anything I want.
I skyrocketed to the top. I was pegged as “unstoppable” to such a degree, I was pulled out of The New Breed Tournament. Too many people had me slated to win it before it even happened.
People were scared to face me. Everyone fell. I venture out into the world in forbidden taboo places that aren’t spoken of in the WFWF.
Same story there.
In 2005, I wasn’t a rookie. I cut my teeth elsewhere. But 2005 is the starting date for Kyzer Calendar in the WFWF.
2005 was the year of Kyzer in the WFWF. I was the most feared, most talked about, most controversial, most hated person in the company.
Now it is ten years later…
I am the Hall of Famer, I have been the World Champion. I am the things I spat on when I entered this place.
Should I worry about some brash upstart spitting in my face?
Should I worry about being treated the same way I treated the ones who came before me?
Am I hypocrite to demand respect for what I have accomplished when I never showed any to anyone else for any reason?
Am I a piece of sh~t because I do drugs or do I do drugs because I am piece of sh~t?
Is there a clone of Michael Kyzer lurking somewhere in the shallow roster of the Clown and Goldfish Era that I need to fear?
Are Josh Dean and Dave Demento cool because they are edgy good guys who smoke pot and have lame plot twists?
No one has the balls do what I did. No one has the drive or the ego to be as brash and disrespectful as I was. There is a lack of talent, a lack of ambition, a lack of creativity in the WFWF in 2015.
I thought Daniel Kirkbride could be that person that pushes me like I pushed everyone back then. I thought he had the potential to make his bones at my expense.
He was a disappointment. I had to leave him broken as a result.
Is there anyone who can challenge me like I challenged those that came before me? Is there anyone?
I want to be challenged.
Will little pretty Nikki be that person?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is time to play that game again…
Kyzer goes to see the baby mama…
Well he makes it to her house anyways…
As I pull up to the house that I once lived in about fifteen years ago, I can tell she isn’t home. I haven’t seen Ashley in two years or so. Not since the plug was pulled and I decided to take my pilgrimage to Asia. It might be longer than since I have seen Serenity. She has to be around twelve now? Sh~t, I can’t even remember my daughter’s age.
I win sh~ttiest dad of the year award. Again.
I step out of my car. I don’t know why, nostalgia maybe…
I can remember the day we bought this house. That was another life ago. I was a different Michael Kyzer. Ashley was the same as she is now. Or at least as she was the last time I saw her, always throwing her heart out there for everyone.
What happened to that 23 year old who bought this house with his new bride?
What happened to the man who carried his bride across the threshold?
You think anyone would believe me if I told them that Michael Kyzer fixed this place up himself?
The God of F~ck is a carpenter.
Take that Jesus.
As I stroll across the yard, I can see her face when I told her this was going to be her house. I bought her a house. Hearts stop. Kyzer did something nice for someone else. He did something that wasn’t rooted in selfishness. There was a Michael Kyzer who did a lot of unselfish and kind acts. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever get back to that person. Am I too far gone?
Have I reached the point of no return?
Probably. I know I could never go back to Ashley. Not after that last time, she was broken. In one week I broke three people. Drakz wasn’t alone in pain that fateful week. And like Drakz, Ashley can’t forgive me for what I did. I can’t blame her. I did what I always did but worse.
But is there still a chance for redemption?
Could I still find someone who I feel gives meaning to my life? The CUNTS certainly don’t have a purpose beyond the obvious. Intelligence and deeper emotional ties aren’t going to spring from a couple of Thai sluts. It might have to do with the lack of integrity in the women I tend to associate with. Beyond Ashley, I can’t think of one that would be considered an upstanding citizen.
I actually thought I had at one point found that person. Elise. I even stopped the drug binge for her. Then she cheated on me. A woman cheated on Michael Kyzer before he did anything to screw it up. Needless to say, I Ray Riced her. I was smart enough to do it off camera. Drakz, ironically, was the person who kept me from killing her that night.
Walking this yard is stirring some unwanted emotions in me. It is like bad acid flashbacks are hitting me.
“Daddy…”
I stop in my tracks. I haven’t heard that voice in so long. A more affectionate father would say it is the voice of an angel. I don’t want to turn and see her face. I know what face will be right behind it. I know what unpleasant tense conversation is about to happen. I know things about to go to sh~t.
I turn around.
Before me is not my daughter.
I see no one.
Maybe I am hearing things. Maybe it is just this place. Daytime nightmares playing tricks on my mind.
I shake it off and continue my excursion into the back yard. The patio I put in shortly after moving in, needs some maintenance. So does the yard as I start to take notice of my surroundings. The house has a green film in spots, the gutters are overflowing with a bog that been created from decomposing leaves.
What the f~ck? Ashley has never left this place in such neglect. Then I notice there is no patio furniture. I walk to a window.
It is empty.
No one lives here.
She finally let go. I don’t know how to feel. There was a time when I would be ecstatic at the idea of not having her be a pain in my ass. But now that it is a reality…I don’t know. I think I got used to the fact that she was always there despite how sh~tty I was. She always saw the good in everyone especially me. She always held out hope because her love for me was pure and genuine. We grew up together. We were always in love. She was always in love. It is one of those generic stories of childhood love. She refused to ever let that die even after I did everything I could to kill it.
This house was the proof of my love to her.
For her to get out of here, for her to leave this…
As I am walking back around the house I can’t get my mind off of this. I am actually in a state of shock. She owned this house. She lived here for fifteen years.
I finally killed it. I finally destroyed the most pure and genuine thing I have ever known in my life. Shouldn’t I be rejoicing? I mean this is what I wanted for so many years right? I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what to feel.
After I get back into my car, I can’t bring myself to do anything but sit there. I am just so shocked about this. A buzzing in my pocket breaks me out of my trance. I pull out my phone to a text message that I have been waiting for. I am facing Nikki Dean at the next show. I slap myself to try and shake all this other bullsh~t. The glove box pops open through Kyzer magic and a magic blunt floats over to my hand. More magic, it is lit.
Inhale.
Ashley is done with you. She has left. She has moved on. She is dead to you.
Exhale.
The magic of the kush enters my body instantly providing relaxation. That little something extra I added, starts to put my mind right.
Inhale.
F~ck Ashley. You don’t need this. You are beyond and above this. This is what you want.
Exhale.
I can see the smoke play in the air. I wave a finger in the air sending the smoke spiraling around.
Inhale.
You are Michael F~cking Kyzer. Remember who you are. Remember your birthright as the God of F~ck.
Exhale.
My eyes close as I feel myself settling down from today’s revelation. I am high.
Inhale.
You wrecked Kirkbride. You are getting what you want. You got Nikki Dean. Follow the Steps of Conquest.
Exhale.
I open my eyes. My car is filled with smoke. This is the way to relax. Drugs are good.
Inhale.
Stay focused. Stay focused. One b~tch at a time. One b~tch at a time.
Exhale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Has there ever been a p~ssy that has conquered the land of Kyzer?
Of course not. One came close admittedly. Now she looks like a garbage pail kid.
Will Nikki Dean be the first?
Absolutely not.
Should I be scared of the wife of “The Franchise” Josh Dean?
Should I be scared of the National Champion?
Should I be scared of the little Nikki Dean?
If I say yes to any of those questions, then I would be telling a lie. Eagle Scouts don’t tell lie. That would be breaking the Scout Oath.
I don’t lie.
I honestly thought Daniel was going to push me to my limits. Instead I left him half dead. If only he had met me instead of that Brennan, then he would already hold a victory over the current World Champion. I know I could teach that kid how to put a b~tch like Drakz in his place. Daniel would know how to deal with his bottom b~tch. Now his future looks a lot less bright.
And that is the plan.
I made my name on the corpses of the respected veterans of the “Golden Era”. This time, I solidify my legacy by extinguishing each and every rising star out there. Each and every hero, every good guy, every G.I. Joe out there.
Daniel was the first.
Nikki is the second.
I am sorry poor girl. Wrong place…Wrong time….
Never.
I do everything for a reason. There is a method to my madness. Don’t dismiss my cunning and guile just because I take a few bong rips with my Xanax.
This path was paved in stone long before I returned to the land of the living. Nikki’s name was always on it from the beginning. Fate, destiny, whatever the f~ck you want to call it, this was always going to happen.
Sweet Nikki was always going to deep throat the Kyzer. Sweet Nikki isn’t going to be so sweet.
I am going to turn her out.
I am going to turn you out, Nikki.
But why?
Why put her on the Steps of Conquest?
Why punish you, Nikki?
That is simple.
I want to shatter that pretty little world of yours. I don’t know if it is because I am envious, just malicious or simply that bored. Probably all three if I had to guess.
I don’t like you.
I don’t like Josh.
I don’t like Drake.
I don’t like Hunter.
I don’t like Dave.
I don’t like Penny.
I don’t like your world.
It is just one of things. You haven’t done anything to me personally but just everything about you makes me want to vomit. Your whole life story reeks of unoriginality. Get married young, bad marriage, divorced with a kid, get married, have another kid, get divorced, get married, have another kid, get divorced. Isn’t that the story of every piece of white trash that comes from West Virginia?
Wait…Nikki, are you related to Jesco?
Whatever you think you have seen to this point in wrestling isn’t going to prepare you. I know I have hype. I know I am shrouded in mythology. I know people say I have too much hype. I know people say I am nothing but a myth like I am not real in the slightest.
But I don’t get why?
As I began to carve out my path of blood in the WFWF, I kept hearing the same things.
All hype. Overrated. Smoke and mirrors. Nothing but talk. An illusion.
And yet every one of those people fell.
Daniel didn’t think I was the real deal.
No matter how long I have stayed away, I have always came back and exceeded expectations. Ring rust doesn’t exist in my world. Time off doesn’t mean anything.
I am always ready for war.
And this is the last war.
Take this seriously.
Don’t dismiss this.
This is the biggest match of your career to date. Beating me would do more for your career than that sh~tty title ever could. This is Nikki. This is your shot at greatness. You can dethrone a legend here. You can slay a God.
Nikki The Godslayer.
It has a decent ring to it. I don’t think your p~ssy is fierce enough to pull off such a nickname though.
Here is a story.
Woman meets man. Woman opens legs and out comes a bastard. Woman leaves man. Woman meets man. Woman opens legs and out comes a bastard with crabs. Man brings woman to work with him. Woman decides to wrestle. Woman wins meaningless title. Woman is filled with a false sense of importance. Woman thinks she matters. Woman doesn’t matter. Man tells woman she does matter. Man is wrong. Woman believes man. Woman meets God. God beats woman. God crushes woman. God abuses woman. God rips out woman’s uterus. God does world a favor by sterilizing trash. Woman goes back to man. Man fights God. God laughs. God walks away with disinterest. Woman leaves man because of his impotence.
Nikki, if you can’t figure out who you are in that story, then do your kids a favor and let the Whites raise them. They would be better off.
I am going to murder the love in your life.
I need something to use as my bath water tonight.
I wish it could be different. I wish there could be another way. It doesn’t look like there will be though.
It is going to end with one result.
I am going to break your f~cking face tonight.
Shout out to my man, Fred.
Tell Hunter and Drake that you miss them and that the same mommy isn’t coming back. You will be a completely different woman after being split open.
Hopefully you will make better life choices in the future. Like not be so f~cking unlikable. And stop hanging with all those tools in the S.O.S.
You will understand that my limp dick is more man than all of them.
I will pray for you Nikki.
Pray that you find yourself a f~cking clue.
2005 was the era of Stars and Icons.
2015 is the era of Clowns and Goldfish.
I came into a place that had mountains of talent. I could rattle off names that no one would recognize except for the three people left from that era.
Drakz.
Philip “Obo” Schneider.
Michael Kyzer.
Schneider can boast about how he stuck through the place longer and more consistent than anyone. Proud accomplishment. That is like when my son came and told me about using the toilet for first time. Congrats, you didn’t sh~t your pants. Do you want a f~cking award?
It doesn’t matter that I have left and come back a few times. Some people just can’t accept the ten inch c~ck in the room without being jealous regardless of circumstances. Schneider has penis envy of me. It is cool, most guys do.
My point is ten years after I first set foot in the WFWF, I recognize three people from my first day. And with the c~ck sucking Jew retiring, it only leaves two.
Just me and you big boy.
We will be the last relics of a better era. A “Golden” Era.
When I came into the WFWF in 2005, I made people talk. I brought something that no one had ever seen before, I did things people didn’t do at the time. I took a big piss on the past, on the Hall of Famers, on the relics from the previous Era. I called out each and every one of them I could.
And I beat each and every one. I showed no respect. Why should I? Because they accomplished something before I arrived on the scene? I am Michael Kyzer. I was…am beyond reproach. I did…do anything I want.
I skyrocketed to the top. I was pegged as “unstoppable” to such a degree, I was pulled out of The New Breed Tournament. Too many people had me slated to win it before it even happened.
People were scared to face me. Everyone fell. I venture out into the world in forbidden taboo places that aren’t spoken of in the WFWF.
Same story there.
In 2005, I wasn’t a rookie. I cut my teeth elsewhere. But 2005 is the starting date for Kyzer Calendar in the WFWF.
2005 was the year of Kyzer in the WFWF. I was the most feared, most talked about, most controversial, most hated person in the company.
Now it is ten years later…
I am the Hall of Famer, I have been the World Champion. I am the things I spat on when I entered this place.
Should I worry about some brash upstart spitting in my face?
Should I worry about being treated the same way I treated the ones who came before me?
Am I hypocrite to demand respect for what I have accomplished when I never showed any to anyone else for any reason?
Am I a piece of sh~t because I do drugs or do I do drugs because I am piece of sh~t?
Is there a clone of Michael Kyzer lurking somewhere in the shallow roster of the Clown and Goldfish Era that I need to fear?
Are Josh Dean and Dave Demento cool because they are edgy good guys who smoke pot and have lame plot twists?
No one has the balls do what I did. No one has the drive or the ego to be as brash and disrespectful as I was. There is a lack of talent, a lack of ambition, a lack of creativity in the WFWF in 2015.
I thought Daniel Kirkbride could be that person that pushes me like I pushed everyone back then. I thought he had the potential to make his bones at my expense.
He was a disappointment. I had to leave him broken as a result.
Is there anyone who can challenge me like I challenged those that came before me? Is there anyone?
I want to be challenged.
Will little pretty Nikki be that person?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It is time to play that game again…
Kyzer goes to see the baby mama…
Well he makes it to her house anyways…
As I pull up to the house that I once lived in about fifteen years ago, I can tell she isn’t home. I haven’t seen Ashley in two years or so. Not since the plug was pulled and I decided to take my pilgrimage to Asia. It might be longer than since I have seen Serenity. She has to be around twelve now? Sh~t, I can’t even remember my daughter’s age.
I win sh~ttiest dad of the year award. Again.
I step out of my car. I don’t know why, nostalgia maybe…
I can remember the day we bought this house. That was another life ago. I was a different Michael Kyzer. Ashley was the same as she is now. Or at least as she was the last time I saw her, always throwing her heart out there for everyone.
What happened to that 23 year old who bought this house with his new bride?
What happened to the man who carried his bride across the threshold?
You think anyone would believe me if I told them that Michael Kyzer fixed this place up himself?
The God of F~ck is a carpenter.
Take that Jesus.
As I stroll across the yard, I can see her face when I told her this was going to be her house. I bought her a house. Hearts stop. Kyzer did something nice for someone else. He did something that wasn’t rooted in selfishness. There was a Michael Kyzer who did a lot of unselfish and kind acts. Sometimes I wonder if I could ever get back to that person. Am I too far gone?
Have I reached the point of no return?
Probably. I know I could never go back to Ashley. Not after that last time, she was broken. In one week I broke three people. Drakz wasn’t alone in pain that fateful week. And like Drakz, Ashley can’t forgive me for what I did. I can’t blame her. I did what I always did but worse.
But is there still a chance for redemption?
Could I still find someone who I feel gives meaning to my life? The CUNTS certainly don’t have a purpose beyond the obvious. Intelligence and deeper emotional ties aren’t going to spring from a couple of Thai sluts. It might have to do with the lack of integrity in the women I tend to associate with. Beyond Ashley, I can’t think of one that would be considered an upstanding citizen.
I actually thought I had at one point found that person. Elise. I even stopped the drug binge for her. Then she cheated on me. A woman cheated on Michael Kyzer before he did anything to screw it up. Needless to say, I Ray Riced her. I was smart enough to do it off camera. Drakz, ironically, was the person who kept me from killing her that night.
Walking this yard is stirring some unwanted emotions in me. It is like bad acid flashbacks are hitting me.
“Daddy…”
I stop in my tracks. I haven’t heard that voice in so long. A more affectionate father would say it is the voice of an angel. I don’t want to turn and see her face. I know what face will be right behind it. I know what unpleasant tense conversation is about to happen. I know things about to go to sh~t.
I turn around.
Before me is not my daughter.
I see no one.
Maybe I am hearing things. Maybe it is just this place. Daytime nightmares playing tricks on my mind.
I shake it off and continue my excursion into the back yard. The patio I put in shortly after moving in, needs some maintenance. So does the yard as I start to take notice of my surroundings. The house has a green film in spots, the gutters are overflowing with a bog that been created from decomposing leaves.
What the f~ck? Ashley has never left this place in such neglect. Then I notice there is no patio furniture. I walk to a window.
It is empty.
No one lives here.
She finally let go. I don’t know how to feel. There was a time when I would be ecstatic at the idea of not having her be a pain in my ass. But now that it is a reality…I don’t know. I think I got used to the fact that she was always there despite how sh~tty I was. She always saw the good in everyone especially me. She always held out hope because her love for me was pure and genuine. We grew up together. We were always in love. She was always in love. It is one of those generic stories of childhood love. She refused to ever let that die even after I did everything I could to kill it.
This house was the proof of my love to her.
For her to get out of here, for her to leave this…
As I am walking back around the house I can’t get my mind off of this. I am actually in a state of shock. She owned this house. She lived here for fifteen years.
I finally killed it. I finally destroyed the most pure and genuine thing I have ever known in my life. Shouldn’t I be rejoicing? I mean this is what I wanted for so many years right? I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what to feel.
After I get back into my car, I can’t bring myself to do anything but sit there. I am just so shocked about this. A buzzing in my pocket breaks me out of my trance. I pull out my phone to a text message that I have been waiting for. I am facing Nikki Dean at the next show. I slap myself to try and shake all this other bullsh~t. The glove box pops open through Kyzer magic and a magic blunt floats over to my hand. More magic, it is lit.
Inhale.
Ashley is done with you. She has left. She has moved on. She is dead to you.
Exhale.
The magic of the kush enters my body instantly providing relaxation. That little something extra I added, starts to put my mind right.
Inhale.
F~ck Ashley. You don’t need this. You are beyond and above this. This is what you want.
Exhale.
I can see the smoke play in the air. I wave a finger in the air sending the smoke spiraling around.
Inhale.
You are Michael F~cking Kyzer. Remember who you are. Remember your birthright as the God of F~ck.
Exhale.
My eyes close as I feel myself settling down from today’s revelation. I am high.
Inhale.
You wrecked Kirkbride. You are getting what you want. You got Nikki Dean. Follow the Steps of Conquest.
Exhale.
I open my eyes. My car is filled with smoke. This is the way to relax. Drugs are good.
Inhale.
Stay focused. Stay focused. One b~tch at a time. One b~tch at a time.
Exhale.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Has there ever been a p~ssy that has conquered the land of Kyzer?
Of course not. One came close admittedly. Now she looks like a garbage pail kid.
Will Nikki Dean be the first?
Absolutely not.
Should I be scared of the wife of “The Franchise” Josh Dean?
Should I be scared of the National Champion?
Should I be scared of the little Nikki Dean?
If I say yes to any of those questions, then I would be telling a lie. Eagle Scouts don’t tell lie. That would be breaking the Scout Oath.
I don’t lie.
I honestly thought Daniel was going to push me to my limits. Instead I left him half dead. If only he had met me instead of that Brennan, then he would already hold a victory over the current World Champion. I know I could teach that kid how to put a b~tch like Drakz in his place. Daniel would know how to deal with his bottom b~tch. Now his future looks a lot less bright.
And that is the plan.
I made my name on the corpses of the respected veterans of the “Golden Era”. This time, I solidify my legacy by extinguishing each and every rising star out there. Each and every hero, every good guy, every G.I. Joe out there.
Daniel was the first.
Nikki is the second.
I am sorry poor girl. Wrong place…Wrong time….
Never.
I do everything for a reason. There is a method to my madness. Don’t dismiss my cunning and guile just because I take a few bong rips with my Xanax.
This path was paved in stone long before I returned to the land of the living. Nikki’s name was always on it from the beginning. Fate, destiny, whatever the f~ck you want to call it, this was always going to happen.
Sweet Nikki was always going to deep throat the Kyzer. Sweet Nikki isn’t going to be so sweet.
I am going to turn her out.
I am going to turn you out, Nikki.
But why?
Why put her on the Steps of Conquest?
Why punish you, Nikki?
That is simple.
I want to shatter that pretty little world of yours. I don’t know if it is because I am envious, just malicious or simply that bored. Probably all three if I had to guess.
I don’t like you.
I don’t like Josh.
I don’t like Drake.
I don’t like Hunter.
I don’t like Dave.
I don’t like Penny.
I don’t like your world.
It is just one of things. You haven’t done anything to me personally but just everything about you makes me want to vomit. Your whole life story reeks of unoriginality. Get married young, bad marriage, divorced with a kid, get married, have another kid, get divorced, get married, have another kid, get divorced. Isn’t that the story of every piece of white trash that comes from West Virginia?
Wait…Nikki, are you related to Jesco?
Whatever you think you have seen to this point in wrestling isn’t going to prepare you. I know I have hype. I know I am shrouded in mythology. I know people say I have too much hype. I know people say I am nothing but a myth like I am not real in the slightest.
But I don’t get why?
As I began to carve out my path of blood in the WFWF, I kept hearing the same things.
All hype. Overrated. Smoke and mirrors. Nothing but talk. An illusion.
And yet every one of those people fell.
Daniel didn’t think I was the real deal.
No matter how long I have stayed away, I have always came back and exceeded expectations. Ring rust doesn’t exist in my world. Time off doesn’t mean anything.
I am always ready for war.
And this is the last war.
Take this seriously.
Don’t dismiss this.
This is the biggest match of your career to date. Beating me would do more for your career than that sh~tty title ever could. This is Nikki. This is your shot at greatness. You can dethrone a legend here. You can slay a God.
Nikki The Godslayer.
It has a decent ring to it. I don’t think your p~ssy is fierce enough to pull off such a nickname though.
Here is a story.
Woman meets man. Woman opens legs and out comes a bastard. Woman leaves man. Woman meets man. Woman opens legs and out comes a bastard with crabs. Man brings woman to work with him. Woman decides to wrestle. Woman wins meaningless title. Woman is filled with a false sense of importance. Woman thinks she matters. Woman doesn’t matter. Man tells woman she does matter. Man is wrong. Woman believes man. Woman meets God. God beats woman. God crushes woman. God abuses woman. God rips out woman’s uterus. God does world a favor by sterilizing trash. Woman goes back to man. Man fights God. God laughs. God walks away with disinterest. Woman leaves man because of his impotence.
Nikki, if you can’t figure out who you are in that story, then do your kids a favor and let the Whites raise them. They would be better off.
I am going to murder the love in your life.
I need something to use as my bath water tonight.
I wish it could be different. I wish there could be another way. It doesn’t look like there will be though.
It is going to end with one result.
I am going to break your f~cking face tonight.
Shout out to my man, Fred.
Tell Hunter and Drake that you miss them and that the same mommy isn’t coming back. You will be a completely different woman after being split open.
Hopefully you will make better life choices in the future. Like not be so f~cking unlikable. And stop hanging with all those tools in the S.O.S.
You will understand that my limp dick is more man than all of them.
I will pray for you Nikki.
Pray that you find yourself a f~cking clue.
I dont know good luck 
