Post by "The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce on Apr 22, 2012 15:36:31 GMT -5
Friday, April 20th, 2012 8:45 P.M.
The Log Cabin Republicans. Ugh. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. Nick Ryan and the management at WGWF had best be thankful I’m still somewhat of a team player. Otherwise, I’d read these co-conspirators the riot act and then go to headquarters and tap dance on their junk wearing spike heels. Of course, Nick Ryan would probably like that, especially if I wear a fat suit. Fucking freak. I did love the expression on his face when George put an end to his merchandise discrimination. People want my clothes, they NEED them. Who cares if it upsets a few ultra-conservatives? Even bad press can be good press if you have someone like me to spin it right. Which reminds me… I need to consider hiring people to help me out. Things are really heating up in all aspects, and this girl needs to keep some time to get cocktailed once in a while.
The emcee drones on about how few people can relate to gay issues in modern society. Dan stands at the side, hidden by the curtain and foredrop of campaign posters of Romney. Dan runs through his thankfully short speech as he awaits his introduction. Just the concept of him being here feels like an endorsement, leaving a horrible taste in his mouth that no amount of mouthwash or man-butter could rinse out. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the outspoken WGWF superstar and fashionista himself, Dan Fierce!”
Dan checks his rainbow-colored sequined tuxedo jacket, licks his lips, and steps out into the spotlight, wearing the best smile he can muster as the crowd cheers his appearance from behind the stage. He gives a royal wave, the kind saved for only the best queens of countries and pageants alike as he steps up to the podium. Shaking the emcee’s hand, he smiles as he struggles to remember the man’s name to publicly thank him aloud as he hands the podium off to him.
“Thank you for that wonderful introduction. Call me.” The audience laughs at his antics, which always feeds Dan’s confidence at things like this. He turns his attention to the onlookers as he scans the crowd a bit, allowing for a small uncomfortable pause. “Even though I do a lot of public speaking, I have to say this is a first for me. They say to imagine your audience naked when speaking. My first reaction is… Could be fun.” Another heartier laugh pours from the assemblage along with a few catcalls and cheers. “I’m not even Republican, but nobody’s perfect, right?” That gets another huge round of applause, as he suspected it would. “They asked me to come out here and share my experience with dealing with the public and trying to get them on my side. I’d say the key thing is what I demonstrated just now; humor. Not only can it be a powerful tool in helping others to understand your stance on certain subjects, but it can also help derail your detractors. When you use humor, you show people that disagree with you that you can laugh at yourself even harder than any jokes they can come up with. That leaves people who want to make you look foolish without any ammunition. It sways those who might have been on the fence about whatever you’re talking about to your side.” The audience applauds wildly, giving Dan a chance to wet his whistle with some water.
“I mean, let’s face it,” Dan starts, “you guys have a lot of material to work with.” Suddenly, the audience goes dead silent, wondering what he is referring to as Dan motions toward the larger-than-life Romney posters flanking the stage. Feeling the unease, Dan continues. “Mitt Romney supports the so-called sanctity of marriage. A Mormon supports sanctity of marriage. That’s a real punchline right there.” Jeers start to trickle in, but Dan refuses to back down on his point. “Now… Hear me out.” The crowd calms down, allowing him to continue. “Mitt Romney is monogamous, as were his parents and grandparents, people still see him as a Mormon. That brings up the image of multiple wives, even though that practice has been abandoned for years. So, in essence, he is in a similar boat as we gays and lesbians are; he’s fighting to slough the concept that his beliefs are a detriment to marriage. So are we. We can use the irony of this to our advantage, if we do it right.” The audience, seeing his point, applauds, though somewhat more carefully.
“Not to mention that being gay AND Republican is a lot like being a Jewish Nazi.” An audible gasp echoes throughout the arena. Dan smirks, glowering inside about what he’s about to do. “I know it’s a bit of a rough comparison, but you have to admit that it’s true. I mean, Republicans have nothing but contempt for gays in general and Mitt Romney especially could care less about any of us. Yet here you are, convening to endorse him. How much more poetic irony do you need?” Jeers begin to build as Dan speaks. “You are all sleeping with the enemy, and you know it. I sincerely hope there’s either a good paycheck involved or it’s one of those ‘keep your enemies closer’ things.” Boos begin to build. Dan eats it up knowing he has the audience where he wants them and that by their reaction he’s making them think, even if they hate him for it. “Seriously? How much do you have to hate yourself to publicly endorse those who would like to keep your rights up for a vote? I think that’s why I was surprised to find out that you chose to have me speak here.”
The murmurs begin to meld together into one gigantic jeer. A gust of wind blows from the audience toward Dan, adding momentum to the force of the reaction, very nearly giving it a life of its own. A dim light starts at the back as the audience appears to be heading out of the auditorium. In the back of Dan’s mind a small odd thought surfaces; “I don’t remember there being a door there.” He continues his tirade, “You must have known I was going to rail you on your choices. This bitch doesn’t pull punches.” A roar grows from within the light as more and more of the audience appears to head, no get pulled into, the mass behind the glowing orb. Dan puts a hand to his forehead to shield himself from the intensifying light and attempt to see past it. More and more of the convention goers get sucked into the mass, adding to the luminescence as it makes its way forth. “What the fuck is going on out there?” Dan inquires before realizing he said it aloud. The thing picks up intensity as it devours and moves closer to Dan. The roar becomes nearly unbearable at the decibels increase. A sense of panic starts to set in as Dan steps away from the podium. Still shielding his eyes from the glow, he turns profile to lessen the light’s impact.
As the last of the conventioneers gets swept into the pulsating black mass surrounding the light like a reverse eclipse, the light begins to take a humanoid form. The roar begins to take a unified sound as it rolls into a voice that sounds comprised of many. The light fades away as one being stands before Dan, a monstrous appendage pointed directly at him. “We are not Legion, because we actually show up, but we are many.” The voices sound almost tortured as its speech patter echoes in Dan’s ears. “You have angered us! We are Republicock!” Dan stands up and allows his eyes to become accustomed to the new light level. Before him stood an large man dressed in a futuristic leather trenchcoat. Once his eyes adjusted, Dan realized what he was now faced with. A shot that sounded as if coming from a cannon rang throughout the arena, splintering the podium into shambles. Shrapnel rains down on Dan as he ducks back to keep the wood from imbedding itself in his face. “You will pay for your arrogance, Dan Fierce!”
To Be Continued…
A Fierce Promo:
“Well… Even though I don’t think Zach Rizza has brains enough to string more than two interesting words together, he made one worthwhile point; and it’s one my opponent validated. My career can’t get much lower than fighting a gigantic chicken. Since when did Michael Vick trade hobbies AND become the host of Punk’d? That’s exactly what it feels like. Seriously? Fine! I guess if I have to do it, I’ll have some fun, but before I get to it, I should address some real problems.
“Let’s start with this A II D asshole. You and I will meet at Spring Slugfest, which still sounds to me more like either a b-movie horror title, or some kind of small town stretching for a celebration. Anyhoo… You have made me into a joke, costing me two very important matches, and even attempting to cost me another last week. Had it not been for my opponent being a total water-head incompetent, I may have fallen then too. I can assure your armor-clad ass that you have completely yanked the bitch right out of me. I mean, why me? How am I a villain and a criminal for wanting to stand up for my rights? If that makes me the bad girl, then you ain’t seen nothing yet, sugar. I’ll show your tired ass just what kind of bitch I can be. I know who you are, and I will pummel your so-called heroic face into a red and gold can of goo.
“My opponent think I should pay you a bit more attention, and maybe he… it is a he right? He’s right. I’ll pay you more attention, Honey. I’ll give you exactly what you want. You want a villain? Honey, I will put the ‘diva’ in ‘devious.’ I can all but guarantee that you will not get the upper hand on me this week. I’m not even too concerned about my match. Nope. You are going to be right where you want to be; in my mind. I think you’ll find it’s not a good place to be.
“As for my opponent; Chicken Buu… Well, normally, I’d love nothing better than to wrestle around with a gigantic cock. Unfortunately for your timing, I have to bake you in the ring with my rage. Don’t worry, Extra Crispy. I’m not a chicken hawk, but I will make sure when you and I meet in the ring, I will take great pleasure in choking that chicken until he spits and goes limp. Spring or no, baby, I have no problem in taking a little chick like you to school.
“You say I’m not a ‘Fierce’ competitor? How the hell would you know? We’ve never faced off in the ring in any way. You’ll soon find out that I have the ability to put you in so much pain you’ll be begging the CEO of Buffalo Wild Wings to filet you and serve you up to a bunch of testosterone filled football fans. You don’t need to worry what I have planned for A II D. You need to worry what exactly I’m going to do with all the wonderful feathers I knock off of your farm-fed backside.
“Lucky for you, my blood grandmother, the only person in my true relations I could care about, used to raise chickens. She taught me the proper way to clean a chicken’s clock. I’ll start by wringing your neck. Then I’ll dip you in the boiling rage I have inside me and strip you of any dignity and momentum you will have going into the pay-per-view. Then I’ll deep fry you in the iron skillet that is the ring. Once all of that nonsense is over with, I’ll invite Roderick X and Andre Dixon down to enjoy the spoils of my victory. I hope Pseudonym can gain the tag belts with a skeleton that isn’t in his closet.
“Don’t worry though, Sweetie. I’m not a ‘plushie,’ so I won’t be trying to stuff the chicken with my own special ingredients. You can fly all the birds you want at me. You can tell me I’m a joke. Once I get you in the ring at Brawl, you will find out that I am no laughing matter. I can sit here and make all the crass ‘cock’ jokes and have people laughing at you. In the end, I’m tired of being the comedy relief. You can have that torch. The world needs to see just exactly how serious I can be. A II D needs to know what kind of hell I’m going to put him through at Slugfest. You, Chicken Buu? You get to play the part of the hapless victim. It’s a role you are all too familiar with. You haven’t got a chance at the tag belts, and you are nothing more that a new line of feather boas to add accessories to my line of fashions.
“So congratulations, Chicken Buu… You want a ‘Fierce’ opponent? You’ve got it, baby. Your already short life span is about to get a whole lot shorter, and I’m about to get fed not only another win, but a meal in the process. It’s a damned good thing I’m hungry. Good for me, bad for you. You can’t make a fool of me, Buu… But I WILL make an example and a picnic out of being across the ring from you. That’s not just the cold, hard facts… That’s FIERCE!”