Post by Markw on Jul 7, 2019 9:59:00 GMT -5
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
I think really, deep down, we’re all chasing moments from our past. Trying to relive our great triumphs, moments of love or humour. Of peace or vengeance.
The moments that matter most to us.
We all live in the past really. And why wouldn’t you? If you get good enough at blocking out the bad, Then you’re free to cherry pick those most amazing moments.
It’s why slogans like ‘Make America Great Again’ work, because people naturally romanticise the past at the expense of the present. All be it the 46 percent who voted for Donald are getting all romantic about the CSA, they’re an example of doing it wrong, but y’all get my point. For bad or good we all do it. We all chase the past.
We all feel that nostalgic longing for a glamorised past.
Thud.
Four years.
Four long years.
You can build up a lot of anger in four years you know.
I’m led to believe that most girls that age get pretty angry anyway, without anything like the same stimuli.
Thud.
I got violent.
Thud.
I took all that bitterness, grief, resentment, pain, vulnerability, all that hatred.
The violation.
The loss.
I took it all, I fostered it, let it gestate inside of me.
I took it,
Thud.
And I nurtured it.
Thud.
I channelled it into such a great anger, and…
Thud.
I unleashed it on his f***in’ ugly bald head.
It felt good.
---
Daisy: Look B…
What was his name again? I’m sure it started with a B.
Daisy:..abe, it’s just not gonna work. I’m sorry.
He (let’s call him Boris, Boris is a good name for a repulsive moron) looks so confused, like a little dog after you’ve slapped it.
I would imagine.
Boris: What? Wh...
Daisy: Ooooh
Damn, she’s cute, lovely…
Daisy: Milkshakes!
Their banana milkshakes really are to die for, and these waitresses, Jesus Christ, I need to come here more often.
Boris: Are you serious?
Daisy: Hmm? Oh sorry…
Dumping him, stay on track.
Daisy: Yeah it’s just, I have commitment issues, and it’s not me it’s you and…
God I’m good at this.
Boris: Well this is really f***ing cruel.
Wow, a backbone, that’s new. Why couldn’t he have always been like this? Would have made the last six months a lot more fun.
Daisy: Oh, sweetie, it’s like you’re finally getting to know me.
Boris: You’re a whore.
Completely under his breath of course, couldn’t cope with the whole diner hearing. What a coward. Now me, I’m great at projecting when I want to.
Daisy: You’re right, I am a whore.
Hi everyone. Man, that made him uncomfortable.
Daisy: It’s just, you know, a WFWF talent scout’s great when you’re looking for a contact, not so useful for keeping it. I mean come on, you didn’t seriously think it was about your looks or personality did you?
Slurp.
Boris: I...
Oh f***, he did. Poor deluded sod.
Boris: Really don’t know what to say.
…
Daisy: You gotta try the milkshake.
…
Daisy: Seriously, it’s to die for.
Who do I have to kill to get another? In a tremendous act of sacrifice, I slide the last of that heavenly milkshake over to him, should shut the boring b****** up.
Waitress: Everything alright?
Daisy: Ummm… fabulous.
Look at her, f***ing hell.
Daisy: Can I get your number?
Waitress: What?
Boris: What the f***?
Alright calm down.
Daisy: Look at her. You can’t blame me. She’s lovely. You are you know, really attractive.
She starts scribbling her number down. I’m great at this too. Not many people can pull off both at once you know, although in fairness I think most people don’t get enough practice.
Daisy: Thanks.
Boris: You’re amazing.
Daisy: I know.
Bit odd of him to say so now, but whatever.
Daisy: Bye B-oris. And I’ll see you later.
---
I can’t say I’m a huge wrestling fan.
I mean I’ve done my homework, of course, and some of Philip Schneider’s best work is absolutely hilarious (love the inventive use of duct tape), but largely this place is just a bit, well, tame. You know?
Needles at least seems to be doing his best, but the rest of you are seriously letting the side down.
I think we could all be having an awful lot more fun.
Well most of us. Some of you just deserve the Mesh treatment. Here’s looking at you Highlander.
The way I see it, and there’s no point sugarcoating it, we’re here because we’re violent people.
Because we like hurting people.
Perhaps none more so than you Billy, if the decision to joins the army and participate in the outright murder of your fellow man is anything to go by.
Why try to hide it?
Why bother trying to pass ourselves off as sportsmen & women. Competitors who are just in it for the athletic contest. Why pretend the violence isn’t the reason we’re doing it.
There’s nothing wrong with telling the truth, being honest.
I’m here because I like hurting people, and I want to keep doing it. I want to be able to do the sort of thing Needles did at SuperBrawl and spam of that arena a free woman.
We all just need to open up a little more, you know? And to be opened up a little more of course, preferably with a razor blade or some barbed wire.
I shouldn’t laugh.
It really is a very serious issue. We’ve here to set an example for people like little Jenny Broom. And if we all go around playing by the rules, and pretending that live is all sunshine and rainbows, then she’s gonna be in awful lot of trouble when she has to enter the real world. When she realises that in the real world, for every Mesh, there’s four or five Needles’ who will literally or metaphorically stamp you out.
I hope that lesson sunk in for the silly little b*** at SuperBrawl, but there’s so many more deluded little girls who need a proper education, and me, I hate to blow my own trumpet, but I’m here to deliver it.
One attack at a time.
Modern life is s***.
And we can all pretend it isn’t. We can keep dragging ourselves to work every day, run through the hoops of equally miserable politicians and bosses. Tell ourselves that we’re happy because we’ve got a job and a daughter, and tell ourselves it’s perfectly okay if she wants blue hair.
Or we can look back to our past. Back to a time when we, as a species, were genuinely happy. When we were doing what we were programmed to do.
Assaulting, killing & f***ing.
Although hopefully not in that exact order. Not with the one person anyway.
And if you see something that looks like it’s walked out of the movie Inside Out you kill the creepy little c***.
It really isn’t rocket science.
The secret to happiness is just to act. To do what feels natural. To do what your brain tells you. Without worrying about the consequences, the impact it has on anyone else. Just give in to the natural urges we all have, and, shock horror, you’ll be happy.
It’s that f***ing simple.
And if someone tries to stop you, stamp them out.
Don’t let yourself be constrained
This no lethal weapons rule for example.
Utterly stupid.
I’d love to cut whoever thought that nonsense up.
---
What a cesspool.
Honestly just jam packed with cretins, creeps and… whatever that guy is. All rounded off with the stench of urine. Shoot me now.
And there is the target.
Darren Short, the youngest and closest to being aesthetically tolerable of the WFWF referees.
He could certainly come in handy.
Wish me luck.
Daisy: Hey.
Darren: Oh, hi, Darren.
A handshake. A literal handshake. This is gonna be unbearable.
Daisy: Daisy. Can I get you a drink?
Darren: Sure, pint of Guinness please.
Daisy: Two please.
The bartender gets to work, and so do I.
Daisy: You’re Darren Short aren’t you? The WFWF official?
‘Cause if not I’m outta here.
Darren: Uhh, yeah, not often I get recognised.
Daisy: No? Oh, well, I’m a big fan.
Lol.
Darren: I get that even less.
Daisy: Oh really? I suppose it is a bit geeky to rate referees. I just love the way you let the matches flow you know, a lot of the older guys just try to make it about them, you really let it flow. Sometimes you’ve got to let the odd infringement go, or slow down that ten count so the fans get the match they want, you know?
Darren: Yeah…
Or you know, you could learn to do your job properly.
Darren: I certainly try.
It’s not that I want help to win, I don’t care if I win, I just don’t want to be stopped. From what I’ve picked up about wrestling so far, DQs and count outs really do spoil the fun.
Daisy: I’m about to have my WFWF debut myself.
Silence.
Daisy: Oh sorry, you’re probably not meant to fraternise with us are you?
Darren: No I think it’s fine. Who you got first?
Daisy: Billy Broom.
Darren: Not one of my matches anyway. Billy’s a real good guy, been part of the company for donkeys years.
Oh well, it’s a long term investment.
Daisy: Yeah, I’m really excited to go up against him, test myself against a veteran like that you know.
Kick his teeth in.
Daisy: Just hoping I can do myself justice.
Darren: I’m sure you will. Can’t say I’ve seen much of your indy work, you been going long?
Daisy: Oh a good few years yeah, it’s always been my passion. I just love the sport, you grow up watching SuperBrawl and you just dream of being part of it. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.
Hook, line, sinker.
Daisy: Must have been exciting to work it this year?
Darren: Absolute dream come true.
Daisy: And frankly, if you don’t mind my saying so, you were the best of the bunch.
Darren: Aww, thanks.
Ugh. Time knock this back, I need to get out of here pronto. Impresion left, get the f*** out.
Daisy: I’d best be heading off, things to do, people to see.
A particularly stunning waitress for example (that’s in the people to see category, not things to do just yet, I’m not an animal.)
Daisy: See you in the ring some time, or if you’re anything like me two or three bars before we get that far.
God I hate alcohol.
---
I’ve got nothing against you Billy, it’s a very noble profession, it’s just that I really want to have some fun, you know?
And you, you’re just so boring.
So boring that you probably don’t even have the self respect to deny it.
So boring that your offspring is looking up to a permanently 13, blue haired vegetable instead of you.
Isn’t it depressing being that dull?
Don’t you lay awake at night wishing someone would come along and put you out of your misery?
Praying that, one day, you’d meet someone like me?
I know I would.
I’d want to do my daughter a favour if I were you, let myself be disposed of so she might not have to live such a mundane life.
Maybe that was the plan with the whole armed forces thing, but looks like you either chickened out or made the selfish decision to keep dragging people down with you.
Either way, I’ve not got much time for it.
And frankly, I suspect you’ll regret the decision not to just bleed out in a ditch in the Middle East after I’m done with you.
I fully expect to see you, gasping for air, drowning in your own blood, and questioning the life you’ve lived. The decisions you’ve made.
Questioning why on earth you thought you’d put the mop aside and get yourself involved with people like me?
Questioning why you dragged your stupid little girl into the battlefield with people like me, and Needles, and hopefully one or two more of the new recruits, who, frankly, don’t give the tiniest little s*** about the civilian casualties?
Everyone’s a combatant, and Billy, my brain doesn’t discriminate.
It knows I enjoy hurting people, and most of the time, it tells me to do that. Whether it’s a bin man with ideas above his station or an irritating little teenage girl.
Doesn’t bother me one bit.
I’m just here to have some fun.
To relive my greatest moments, and to create new ones.
To do the things that bring me pleasure.
We’re a perfect match really Billy.
You’re boring, I’m interesting.
You’re submissive, I’m dominant.
I like making a mess, you like tidying them up.
It’s a lovely little contrast.
It’s just, I’ve got this horrible, horrible feeling…
That you’re gonna be in no fit state for this clean up.
Thud.
Thud.
I think really, deep down, we’re all chasing moments from our past. Trying to relive our great triumphs, moments of love or humour. Of peace or vengeance.
The moments that matter most to us.
We all live in the past really. And why wouldn’t you? If you get good enough at blocking out the bad, Then you’re free to cherry pick those most amazing moments.
It’s why slogans like ‘Make America Great Again’ work, because people naturally romanticise the past at the expense of the present. All be it the 46 percent who voted for Donald are getting all romantic about the CSA, they’re an example of doing it wrong, but y’all get my point. For bad or good we all do it. We all chase the past.
We all feel that nostalgic longing for a glamorised past.
Thud.
Four years.
Four long years.
You can build up a lot of anger in four years you know.
I’m led to believe that most girls that age get pretty angry anyway, without anything like the same stimuli.
Thud.
I got violent.
Thud.
I took all that bitterness, grief, resentment, pain, vulnerability, all that hatred.
The violation.
The loss.
I took it all, I fostered it, let it gestate inside of me.
I took it,
Thud.
And I nurtured it.
Thud.
I channelled it into such a great anger, and…
Thud.
I unleashed it on his f***in’ ugly bald head.
It felt good.
---
Daisy: Look B…
What was his name again? I’m sure it started with a B.
Daisy:..abe, it’s just not gonna work. I’m sorry.
He (let’s call him Boris, Boris is a good name for a repulsive moron) looks so confused, like a little dog after you’ve slapped it.
I would imagine.
Boris: What? Wh...
Daisy: Ooooh
Damn, she’s cute, lovely…
Daisy: Milkshakes!
Their banana milkshakes really are to die for, and these waitresses, Jesus Christ, I need to come here more often.
Boris: Are you serious?
Daisy: Hmm? Oh sorry…
Dumping him, stay on track.
Daisy: Yeah it’s just, I have commitment issues, and it’s not me it’s you and…
God I’m good at this.
Boris: Well this is really f***ing cruel.
Wow, a backbone, that’s new. Why couldn’t he have always been like this? Would have made the last six months a lot more fun.
Daisy: Oh, sweetie, it’s like you’re finally getting to know me.
Boris: You’re a whore.
Completely under his breath of course, couldn’t cope with the whole diner hearing. What a coward. Now me, I’m great at projecting when I want to.
Daisy: You’re right, I am a whore.
Hi everyone. Man, that made him uncomfortable.
Daisy: It’s just, you know, a WFWF talent scout’s great when you’re looking for a contact, not so useful for keeping it. I mean come on, you didn’t seriously think it was about your looks or personality did you?
Slurp.
Boris: I...
Oh f***, he did. Poor deluded sod.
Boris: Really don’t know what to say.
…
Daisy: You gotta try the milkshake.
…
Daisy: Seriously, it’s to die for.
Who do I have to kill to get another? In a tremendous act of sacrifice, I slide the last of that heavenly milkshake over to him, should shut the boring b****** up.
Waitress: Everything alright?
Daisy: Ummm… fabulous.
Look at her, f***ing hell.
Daisy: Can I get your number?
Waitress: What?
Boris: What the f***?
Alright calm down.
Daisy: Look at her. You can’t blame me. She’s lovely. You are you know, really attractive.
She starts scribbling her number down. I’m great at this too. Not many people can pull off both at once you know, although in fairness I think most people don’t get enough practice.
Daisy: Thanks.
Boris: You’re amazing.
Daisy: I know.
Bit odd of him to say so now, but whatever.
Daisy: Bye B-oris. And I’ll see you later.
---
I can’t say I’m a huge wrestling fan.
I mean I’ve done my homework, of course, and some of Philip Schneider’s best work is absolutely hilarious (love the inventive use of duct tape), but largely this place is just a bit, well, tame. You know?
Needles at least seems to be doing his best, but the rest of you are seriously letting the side down.
I think we could all be having an awful lot more fun.
Well most of us. Some of you just deserve the Mesh treatment. Here’s looking at you Highlander.
The way I see it, and there’s no point sugarcoating it, we’re here because we’re violent people.
Because we like hurting people.
Perhaps none more so than you Billy, if the decision to joins the army and participate in the outright murder of your fellow man is anything to go by.
Why try to hide it?
Why bother trying to pass ourselves off as sportsmen & women. Competitors who are just in it for the athletic contest. Why pretend the violence isn’t the reason we’re doing it.
There’s nothing wrong with telling the truth, being honest.
I’m here because I like hurting people, and I want to keep doing it. I want to be able to do the sort of thing Needles did at SuperBrawl and spam of that arena a free woman.
We all just need to open up a little more, you know? And to be opened up a little more of course, preferably with a razor blade or some barbed wire.
I shouldn’t laugh.
It really is a very serious issue. We’ve here to set an example for people like little Jenny Broom. And if we all go around playing by the rules, and pretending that live is all sunshine and rainbows, then she’s gonna be in awful lot of trouble when she has to enter the real world. When she realises that in the real world, for every Mesh, there’s four or five Needles’ who will literally or metaphorically stamp you out.
I hope that lesson sunk in for the silly little b*** at SuperBrawl, but there’s so many more deluded little girls who need a proper education, and me, I hate to blow my own trumpet, but I’m here to deliver it.
One attack at a time.
Modern life is s***.
And we can all pretend it isn’t. We can keep dragging ourselves to work every day, run through the hoops of equally miserable politicians and bosses. Tell ourselves that we’re happy because we’ve got a job and a daughter, and tell ourselves it’s perfectly okay if she wants blue hair.
Or we can look back to our past. Back to a time when we, as a species, were genuinely happy. When we were doing what we were programmed to do.
Assaulting, killing & f***ing.
Although hopefully not in that exact order. Not with the one person anyway.
And if you see something that looks like it’s walked out of the movie Inside Out you kill the creepy little c***.
It really isn’t rocket science.
The secret to happiness is just to act. To do what feels natural. To do what your brain tells you. Without worrying about the consequences, the impact it has on anyone else. Just give in to the natural urges we all have, and, shock horror, you’ll be happy.
It’s that f***ing simple.
And if someone tries to stop you, stamp them out.
Don’t let yourself be constrained
This no lethal weapons rule for example.
Utterly stupid.
I’d love to cut whoever thought that nonsense up.
---
What a cesspool.
Honestly just jam packed with cretins, creeps and… whatever that guy is. All rounded off with the stench of urine. Shoot me now.
And there is the target.
Darren Short, the youngest and closest to being aesthetically tolerable of the WFWF referees.
He could certainly come in handy.
Wish me luck.
Daisy: Hey.
Darren: Oh, hi, Darren.
A handshake. A literal handshake. This is gonna be unbearable.
Daisy: Daisy. Can I get you a drink?
Darren: Sure, pint of Guinness please.
Daisy: Two please.
The bartender gets to work, and so do I.
Daisy: You’re Darren Short aren’t you? The WFWF official?
‘Cause if not I’m outta here.
Darren: Uhh, yeah, not often I get recognised.
Daisy: No? Oh, well, I’m a big fan.
Lol.
Darren: I get that even less.
Daisy: Oh really? I suppose it is a bit geeky to rate referees. I just love the way you let the matches flow you know, a lot of the older guys just try to make it about them, you really let it flow. Sometimes you’ve got to let the odd infringement go, or slow down that ten count so the fans get the match they want, you know?
Darren: Yeah…
Or you know, you could learn to do your job properly.
Darren: I certainly try.
It’s not that I want help to win, I don’t care if I win, I just don’t want to be stopped. From what I’ve picked up about wrestling so far, DQs and count outs really do spoil the fun.
Daisy: I’m about to have my WFWF debut myself.
Silence.
Daisy: Oh sorry, you’re probably not meant to fraternise with us are you?
Darren: No I think it’s fine. Who you got first?
Daisy: Billy Broom.
Darren: Not one of my matches anyway. Billy’s a real good guy, been part of the company for donkeys years.
Oh well, it’s a long term investment.
Daisy: Yeah, I’m really excited to go up against him, test myself against a veteran like that you know.
Kick his teeth in.
Daisy: Just hoping I can do myself justice.
Darren: I’m sure you will. Can’t say I’ve seen much of your indy work, you been going long?
Daisy: Oh a good few years yeah, it’s always been my passion. I just love the sport, you grow up watching SuperBrawl and you just dream of being part of it. That’s what I’m hoping for anyway.
Hook, line, sinker.
Daisy: Must have been exciting to work it this year?
Darren: Absolute dream come true.
Daisy: And frankly, if you don’t mind my saying so, you were the best of the bunch.
Darren: Aww, thanks.
Ugh. Time knock this back, I need to get out of here pronto. Impresion left, get the f*** out.
Daisy: I’d best be heading off, things to do, people to see.
A particularly stunning waitress for example (that’s in the people to see category, not things to do just yet, I’m not an animal.)
Daisy: See you in the ring some time, or if you’re anything like me two or three bars before we get that far.
God I hate alcohol.
---
I’ve got nothing against you Billy, it’s a very noble profession, it’s just that I really want to have some fun, you know?
And you, you’re just so boring.
So boring that you probably don’t even have the self respect to deny it.
So boring that your offspring is looking up to a permanently 13, blue haired vegetable instead of you.
Isn’t it depressing being that dull?
Don’t you lay awake at night wishing someone would come along and put you out of your misery?
Praying that, one day, you’d meet someone like me?
I know I would.
I’d want to do my daughter a favour if I were you, let myself be disposed of so she might not have to live such a mundane life.
Maybe that was the plan with the whole armed forces thing, but looks like you either chickened out or made the selfish decision to keep dragging people down with you.
Either way, I’ve not got much time for it.
And frankly, I suspect you’ll regret the decision not to just bleed out in a ditch in the Middle East after I’m done with you.
I fully expect to see you, gasping for air, drowning in your own blood, and questioning the life you’ve lived. The decisions you’ve made.
Questioning why on earth you thought you’d put the mop aside and get yourself involved with people like me?
Questioning why you dragged your stupid little girl into the battlefield with people like me, and Needles, and hopefully one or two more of the new recruits, who, frankly, don’t give the tiniest little s*** about the civilian casualties?
Everyone’s a combatant, and Billy, my brain doesn’t discriminate.
It knows I enjoy hurting people, and most of the time, it tells me to do that. Whether it’s a bin man with ideas above his station or an irritating little teenage girl.
Doesn’t bother me one bit.
I’m just here to have some fun.
To relive my greatest moments, and to create new ones.
To do the things that bring me pleasure.
We’re a perfect match really Billy.
You’re boring, I’m interesting.
You’re submissive, I’m dominant.
I like making a mess, you like tidying them up.
It’s a lovely little contrast.
It’s just, I’ve got this horrible, horrible feeling…
That you’re gonna be in no fit state for this clean up.
OOC: So yeah, is what it is. I have my struggles with time/motivation but I really wanted to start writing again (and google docs has been really useful for jotting down the odd line & generally improving the time side of the equation so thanks for that Brennan - this would probably have been a no-show in my last run without it). I was hoping that a new character embracing the TV I’ve been watching (Fleabag/Killing Eve) and music I’ve been listening to might help with the motivation, can’t say I was really feeling it with this one but hopefully that’s something that will come with time. Appreciate I should probably have taken the extension and use the time to expand on some of these sections, but I'm ready to just put this out now and go again. Good luck Mesh.
I dont know good luck