Post by M.D.K. on May 13, 2018 18:07:39 GMT -5
Que Sera Sera is playing as our scene opens.
When I was just a little boy,
I asked my mother, "What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?"
Here's what she said to me...
*Splash*
?: “Wake up! Have you seen this shit?”
We see M.D.K sits up and looks stunned as he awakens from his song riddled slumber with a start as Alyce standing astride him on the bed in a tiny pair of shorts a t-shirt (naturally one of his) as she has a phone in her hand and is showing it to the bleary eyed King of the WGWF who is struggling to focus. Alyce aims a kick at the ribs of her lover who grunts and sits up with a snarl.
M.D.K: “What? What’s the issue!”
Alyce: “I’ve just been sent this!”
M.D.K: “Look, that’s an old picture, she was just a ring rat out to get dirt on me or it’s just great photo-shop. Whichever of those excuses lets me get back to sleep, we shall go with that.”
Alyce: “What?”
M.D.K: “What?”
Alyce sighs and jumps into the lap of her beau and hands him the phone which is displaying the card for this week’s Brawl. M.D.K simply frowns and shakes his head.
M.D.K: “What? What am I supposed to be upset about this week?”
Alyce: “It’s more bullshit! Hurdles for us to leap over, hoops to jump through for that Matt Hopkins and his sick little games...”
He shrugs his shoulders in response. Alyce looks incredulous so M.D.K elaborates for her.
M.D.K: “What are you expecting me to say to that? You want me to be surprised? You want me to be upset? It’s part and parcel of being where we are, at the level we are and having the status that we have in this industry and in this company.”
Alyce groans and slumps backwards onto the bed with her head hanging over the edge. M.D.K slithers forwards and lays beside her and smiles.
Alyce: “It’s just nonsense... I just want to inflict pain and suffering on the mentally frail and the physically weak... WHY CAN’T WE JUST BE HAPPY CAUSING MISERY?”
M.D.K smiles and brings his queen in for an over the top snuggle which makes her wince.
M.D.K: “I love it when your whining.”
Alyce: “I’m sure the context of that is something far filthier for you isn’t it?”
A wicked smile creeps across the face of M.D.K and he nods.
Alyce: “So what now?”
He rolls out of the bed and grabs a bag and launches it at her. With cat like reflexes, she catches it.
M.D.K.: “Pack a bag. We’re taking a little trip.”
Alyce: “What?”
M.D.K.: “Pack that bag... Pack it for a few extra days and get ready to have a little fun.”
Alyce: “Where are we going?”
M.D.K.: “Russia. I have some work to deal with ahead of Brawl out there a little out of Moscow so I quite fancy getting out there early.”
Alyce: “Have you been before?”
M.D.K.: “Yes... And I may seem like a massive Tristan Slater... Shit... I have an internal auto-correct it seems... It keeps changing the word Tristan Slater into Tristan Slater...”
Starchylde looks confused.
M.D.K.: “My mind is automatically changing H.Y.P.O.C.R.I.T.E. into the name of that pathetic tissue paper champion...”
Alyce looks disgusted by the mere mention of his name.
M.D.K leans over and spanks his queen on her backside. She squeals in pleasure.
M.D.K.: “Come on! Let’s get going!”
Alyce: “Do we have to go straight away?”
She reclines on the bed and beckons her king over. He smiles and leaps onto the bed as the camera fades out.
**
Moscow - A couple of days later. After the events of Alyce’s piece.
Along the Moscow streets M.D.K staggers with his shirt half unbuttoned and his blazer draped across his shoulder. He’d set his queen down for the night as he wanders in a half tipsy state along the harsh stone steps and clatters into a loving couple who look stunned and shout profanities at him in Russian. He continues along before stopping at the edge of the bridge overlooking the water. A couple of young men watch on as M.D.K looks out across the Moskva River and lets out a primitive roar of rage across the water and screams profanities into the void of the night.
Man 1: “Sprygnite s mosta! Angliyskaya svin'ya!” (Jump off the bridge! English pig!)
M.D.K turns to them slowly with a gleam of hatred in his eye.
M.D.K: “Want to say that again comrade?”
He turns to his friend and says something in Russian before staring at M.D.K as he crosses the road and stares as the King of the WGWF strides towards them. With a heavy Russian accent, the man smirks at M.D.K.
Man 1: “Go home English man... This isn’t your world.”
M.D.K.: “No... You say what you said to me again... suka blyat.” (Whore bitch)
Man 1 looks enraged and takes a swing at M.D.K who meets him with an elbow to the nose of the man fracturing it in one blow. Man 2 launches himself at M.D.K and gets lifted up and driven into the concrete with little effort. M.D.K looks down at the pair of them and spits at them as somebody calls over to the commotion. M.D.K looks over his shoulder and slinks away into the night.
Out of breath, he presses his back against the door and pants as he looks up to the sky and mutters to himself.
M.D.K.: “I’m too old for this shit.”
He looks up at the sign of the shop he’s pressed against.
Kantselyarskiy magazin
He smiles to himself and wraps his arm in his blazer and as he drives it into the glass panelled door as the scene comes to an end.
**
The following morning.
Alyce awakens to find M.D.K sat at the end of the bed smiling.
Alyce: “Do you know how creepy you look?”
He laughs in response.
Alyce: “Why are you up so early?”
M.D.K.: “I don’t get hangovers with clear spirits.”
Alyce: “Where did you go last night?”
M.D.K.: “I wet for a walk, roared at a bridge and beat up some oafs...”
Alyce: “Why did you do that?”
M.D.K.: “Because all were infinitely more entertaining than sitting through another Tristan Slater confused alignment promo...”
Alyce: “Fair point...”
M.D.K.: “I also got a little creative and made you this...”
He hands her a massive card folded in half. Emblazoned across the front reads the words ‘Happy No Mother’s Day.’ with a crude drawing of a blonde stick woman bending over while a muscle-bound stick man has sex with her from behind surrounded by butterflies against the backdrop of a rainbow.
Alyce: “How long did this take you?”
M.D.K.: “Four hours... I’ve never been good at art...”
She smiles. And cuddles into him.
M.D.K.: “I couldn’t resist. After what you told me about your family, and given that we are in Mother Russia, I felt you needed cheering up.”
Alyce: “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
M.D.K.: “Do you know what the stick man is doing to the stick lady?”
Alyce: “You still are never putting it there...”
M.D.K.: “Worth a try!”
He stands up and picks up a bag. Alyce’s brow furrows.
Alyce: “Where are you going now? Come back to bed.”
M.D.K.: “I have a plane chartered for a quick trip.”
Alyce: “Where are you going?”
M.D.K.: “Siberia.”
Alyce: “Siberia? Why the hell are you going there?”
M.D.K.: “I have business to deal with... Something very dull, very non-supernatural and very non-couple-esque. Enjoy the room, prepare for Monday night... I’ll be back tonight.”
They kiss deeply and M.D.K exits the room leaving Alyce staring at the handmade card before she embraces it and smiles warmly.
**
A frozen airstrip in Siberia. M.D.K stands by in a frosty looking waiting area comprised of a steel bench and a vending machine that sells Ox Blood Soda. He is looking utterly frozen in a large overcoat and traditional Ushanka hat and huddles into his coat as he addresses the camera for the first time.
M.D.K.: “Mph... Mph... Mph...”
But he is unintelligible due to being huddled into his coat. He unbuttons the first couple of buttons and opens it up to allow him to speak properly.
M.D.K.: “So my plane is fucking delayed, my bollocks are in danger of falling off from the cold and this entire fucking country is gripped with Eurovision Song Contest fever this weekend and you fucks expect me to deliver a promo of logic? Well it sure as shit didn’t work with Tristan Slater did it as we take another trip into his realm of nonsense where the cowardly little bitch fails to understand that he spouts traits associated with good guys while telling himself that he’s a bad guy as yet another week goes by that the WGWF World Heavyweight Championship gets tarnished and cheapened by him.”
“And while of of this goes on, we have Matt Hopkins waving his willy about like he is something special and trying to cause dissent and vitriol between friends and lovers. The only thing that Slater has managed to vomit forth that made sense is that he has essentially created a three on potato handicap match as he has lumbered me with the handicap in human form that is a gigantic vegetable who I not only have nothing but pity and contempt for, but I also have rendered into a shambling, shivering shadow of his former self after the beating I put him through at Wrestle Wars.”
“Let me offer you a list of partners who I would have a greater chance of winning with. Jon Tolley, Sentinel, Bubba Josh, a picture of the Dancing Dudes, a pot plant, an actual potato, James Raven’s Twitter account, Kyle Shane’s hair and finally... The undiscovered corpse of Madeline McCann...”
He turns to a camera on the side.
M.D.K.: “Strap in kids. I’m cold and that’s the baseline tone for the evening.”
He turns back to the main camera.
M.D.K.: “Welcome to Russia fuck knuckles... Hope of corruption, sour faces and an insane amount of hate for everything that isn’t white and heterosexual. It’s a place where I feel right at home it may surprise you to hear... See, I etched quite the name for myself out here for being an all purpose asshole for hire and lived and breathed this place for years. To win here is second nature for me but then again to win anywhere is just like breathing for me... Regardless of the odds stacked against me... And boy aren’t the odds stacked against me?”
“My Special Olympics Handicapped partner aside, standing on the other side of the ring is the holder of best hair, most make-up, most feminine and the highest amount of monthly blood letting in the WGWF... And he’s partnered with my darling queen... My poor, sweet Alyce is going to have to tag with that oaf... That peasant... That peon... That... Pissant...”
He looks to the side camera again.
M.D.K.: “You’re welcome.”
Before looking back at the main camera again with a weary frown.
M.D.K.: “So my sweet queen... We meet in the middle of the ring again. A lot has happened since our last encounter in the ring. The sexual tension has passed by now and we have moved out of the honeymoon phase of our love. I’ve watched your arsehole twitch like a rabbit’s nose during sex and I’ve taken a shit while you’ve showered beside me... I imagine they were picking sweetcorn out of the plughole for hours... That was a crazy night...”
“But you see, I have no qualms in beating you in the centre of the ring... If that let’s me pound your...”
*Buzz*
1 WhatsApp Message
Alyce: I told you not a fucking chance...
M.D.K shrugs and continues.
M.D.K: “It was worth a try... Look, Alyce... We don’t have to take out clothes off to have a good time a great man once said that... Admittedly it was a man who clearly did a lot of clothing removal and then died an AIDS related death... But we don’t have to hurt each other. We can circumvent the issue and have our fun later... Because we have a bigger common threat and a greater common goal and above all of that we have one agreement we made at the beginning of whatever we are... If one of us stands in the way of the other’s goals, we brush them aside just like everybody else... So trust me when I say this Alyce, you stop me from beating your pretty boy partner this Monday on Brawl, I won’t hesitate in taking your head from your shoulders... And putting it to good use later...”
“Above all else though, there’s one scared little boy going to be cowering behind your apron strings this week Alyce. A boy who many have grown weary of with his confusing diatribes, an oaf who spouts nonsense each and every week as he single-handedly devalues the greatest prize in this industry. There’s one scared boy who’s going through every stage of fear to deal with the golden ticket that I have at my disposal... You’ve tried the defiant approach, you’ve tried to bait a reaction out of me and now you are opting for the dismissive approach with a little bit of bargaining thrown in.”
“You see, the best part about having this shot is that I call the shots with YOUR title reign... Why do you think the powers that be have done such a thing Slater? While you wait and flinch at every spotlight change on the ramp-way, while you anticipate the opening bars of my music to hit and as you wince at every sideways glance, why don’t you think about that while the fact you have never beaten me rot away in that pretty little subconscious of yours. You never have, you never will and you sure as shit won’t this week on Brawl.”
He smiles wickedly as a Russian tannoy announcement makes the King of the WGWF stand up and grab his bag.
M.D.K.: “Looks like it is time to fly. Tristan and your only hope this week of victory rests on 4 factors...
The pilot is channelling his inner John Denver.
The flight is operated by Malaysian Airlines.
It’s flying over Ukrainian Airspace.
Or
The fucking potato decides to get involved.
And yet again it will see you fail to beat me won’t it? Face facts Trissy baby... You are one thing other than a tissue paper champion. I know it, you know it, Alyce sure as shit knows is and even with the help of a crayon or two, my potato partner will have an inkling about it... And that is that YOU... ARE... INFERIOR!”
He winks at the camera, swings his bag over his shoulder and heads out of the terminal into the snowy Siberia evening as the scene fades out...
When I was just a little boy,
I asked my mother, "What will I be?
Will I be pretty?
Will I be rich?"
Here's what she said to me...
*Splash*
?: “Wake up! Have you seen this shit?”
We see M.D.K sits up and looks stunned as he awakens from his song riddled slumber with a start as Alyce standing astride him on the bed in a tiny pair of shorts a t-shirt (naturally one of his) as she has a phone in her hand and is showing it to the bleary eyed King of the WGWF who is struggling to focus. Alyce aims a kick at the ribs of her lover who grunts and sits up with a snarl.
M.D.K: “What? What’s the issue!”
Alyce: “I’ve just been sent this!”
M.D.K: “Look, that’s an old picture, she was just a ring rat out to get dirt on me or it’s just great photo-shop. Whichever of those excuses lets me get back to sleep, we shall go with that.”
Alyce: “What?”
M.D.K: “What?”
Alyce sighs and jumps into the lap of her beau and hands him the phone which is displaying the card for this week’s Brawl. M.D.K simply frowns and shakes his head.
M.D.K: “What? What am I supposed to be upset about this week?”
Alyce: “It’s more bullshit! Hurdles for us to leap over, hoops to jump through for that Matt Hopkins and his sick little games...”
He shrugs his shoulders in response. Alyce looks incredulous so M.D.K elaborates for her.
M.D.K: “What are you expecting me to say to that? You want me to be surprised? You want me to be upset? It’s part and parcel of being where we are, at the level we are and having the status that we have in this industry and in this company.”
Alyce groans and slumps backwards onto the bed with her head hanging over the edge. M.D.K slithers forwards and lays beside her and smiles.
Alyce: “It’s just nonsense... I just want to inflict pain and suffering on the mentally frail and the physically weak... WHY CAN’T WE JUST BE HAPPY CAUSING MISERY?”
M.D.K smiles and brings his queen in for an over the top snuggle which makes her wince.
M.D.K: “I love it when your whining.”
Alyce: “I’m sure the context of that is something far filthier for you isn’t it?”
A wicked smile creeps across the face of M.D.K and he nods.
Alyce: “So what now?”
He rolls out of the bed and grabs a bag and launches it at her. With cat like reflexes, she catches it.
M.D.K.: “Pack a bag. We’re taking a little trip.”
Alyce: “What?”
M.D.K.: “Pack that bag... Pack it for a few extra days and get ready to have a little fun.”
Alyce: “Where are we going?”
M.D.K.: “Russia. I have some work to deal with ahead of Brawl out there a little out of Moscow so I quite fancy getting out there early.”
Alyce: “Have you been before?”
M.D.K.: “Yes... And I may seem like a massive Tristan Slater... Shit... I have an internal auto-correct it seems... It keeps changing the word Tristan Slater into Tristan Slater...”
Starchylde looks confused.
M.D.K.: “My mind is automatically changing H.Y.P.O.C.R.I.T.E. into the name of that pathetic tissue paper champion...”
Alyce looks disgusted by the mere mention of his name.
M.D.K leans over and spanks his queen on her backside. She squeals in pleasure.
M.D.K.: “Come on! Let’s get going!”
Alyce: “Do we have to go straight away?”
She reclines on the bed and beckons her king over. He smiles and leaps onto the bed as the camera fades out.
**
Moscow - A couple of days later. After the events of Alyce’s piece.
Along the Moscow streets M.D.K staggers with his shirt half unbuttoned and his blazer draped across his shoulder. He’d set his queen down for the night as he wanders in a half tipsy state along the harsh stone steps and clatters into a loving couple who look stunned and shout profanities at him in Russian. He continues along before stopping at the edge of the bridge overlooking the water. A couple of young men watch on as M.D.K looks out across the Moskva River and lets out a primitive roar of rage across the water and screams profanities into the void of the night.
Man 1: “Sprygnite s mosta! Angliyskaya svin'ya!” (Jump off the bridge! English pig!)
M.D.K turns to them slowly with a gleam of hatred in his eye.
M.D.K: “Want to say that again comrade?”
He turns to his friend and says something in Russian before staring at M.D.K as he crosses the road and stares as the King of the WGWF strides towards them. With a heavy Russian accent, the man smirks at M.D.K.
Man 1: “Go home English man... This isn’t your world.”
M.D.K.: “No... You say what you said to me again... suka blyat.” (Whore bitch)
Man 1 looks enraged and takes a swing at M.D.K who meets him with an elbow to the nose of the man fracturing it in one blow. Man 2 launches himself at M.D.K and gets lifted up and driven into the concrete with little effort. M.D.K looks down at the pair of them and spits at them as somebody calls over to the commotion. M.D.K looks over his shoulder and slinks away into the night.
Out of breath, he presses his back against the door and pants as he looks up to the sky and mutters to himself.
M.D.K.: “I’m too old for this shit.”
He looks up at the sign of the shop he’s pressed against.
Kantselyarskiy magazin
He smiles to himself and wraps his arm in his blazer and as he drives it into the glass panelled door as the scene comes to an end.
**
The following morning.
Alyce awakens to find M.D.K sat at the end of the bed smiling.
Alyce: “Do you know how creepy you look?”
He laughs in response.
Alyce: “Why are you up so early?”
M.D.K.: “I don’t get hangovers with clear spirits.”
Alyce: “Where did you go last night?”
M.D.K.: “I wet for a walk, roared at a bridge and beat up some oafs...”
Alyce: “Why did you do that?”
M.D.K.: “Because all were infinitely more entertaining than sitting through another Tristan Slater confused alignment promo...”
Alyce: “Fair point...”
M.D.K.: “I also got a little creative and made you this...”
He hands her a massive card folded in half. Emblazoned across the front reads the words ‘Happy No Mother’s Day.’ with a crude drawing of a blonde stick woman bending over while a muscle-bound stick man has sex with her from behind surrounded by butterflies against the backdrop of a rainbow.
Alyce: “How long did this take you?”
M.D.K.: “Four hours... I’ve never been good at art...”
She smiles. And cuddles into him.
M.D.K.: “I couldn’t resist. After what you told me about your family, and given that we are in Mother Russia, I felt you needed cheering up.”
Alyce: “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
M.D.K.: “Do you know what the stick man is doing to the stick lady?”
Alyce: “You still are never putting it there...”
M.D.K.: “Worth a try!”
He stands up and picks up a bag. Alyce’s brow furrows.
Alyce: “Where are you going now? Come back to bed.”
M.D.K.: “I have a plane chartered for a quick trip.”
Alyce: “Where are you going?”
M.D.K.: “Siberia.”
Alyce: “Siberia? Why the hell are you going there?”
M.D.K.: “I have business to deal with... Something very dull, very non-supernatural and very non-couple-esque. Enjoy the room, prepare for Monday night... I’ll be back tonight.”
They kiss deeply and M.D.K exits the room leaving Alyce staring at the handmade card before she embraces it and smiles warmly.
**
A frozen airstrip in Siberia. M.D.K stands by in a frosty looking waiting area comprised of a steel bench and a vending machine that sells Ox Blood Soda. He is looking utterly frozen in a large overcoat and traditional Ushanka hat and huddles into his coat as he addresses the camera for the first time.
M.D.K.: “Mph... Mph... Mph...”
But he is unintelligible due to being huddled into his coat. He unbuttons the first couple of buttons and opens it up to allow him to speak properly.
M.D.K.: “So my plane is fucking delayed, my bollocks are in danger of falling off from the cold and this entire fucking country is gripped with Eurovision Song Contest fever this weekend and you fucks expect me to deliver a promo of logic? Well it sure as shit didn’t work with Tristan Slater did it as we take another trip into his realm of nonsense where the cowardly little bitch fails to understand that he spouts traits associated with good guys while telling himself that he’s a bad guy as yet another week goes by that the WGWF World Heavyweight Championship gets tarnished and cheapened by him.”
“And while of of this goes on, we have Matt Hopkins waving his willy about like he is something special and trying to cause dissent and vitriol between friends and lovers. The only thing that Slater has managed to vomit forth that made sense is that he has essentially created a three on potato handicap match as he has lumbered me with the handicap in human form that is a gigantic vegetable who I not only have nothing but pity and contempt for, but I also have rendered into a shambling, shivering shadow of his former self after the beating I put him through at Wrestle Wars.”
“Let me offer you a list of partners who I would have a greater chance of winning with. Jon Tolley, Sentinel, Bubba Josh, a picture of the Dancing Dudes, a pot plant, an actual potato, James Raven’s Twitter account, Kyle Shane’s hair and finally... The undiscovered corpse of Madeline McCann...”
He turns to a camera on the side.
M.D.K.: “Strap in kids. I’m cold and that’s the baseline tone for the evening.”
He turns back to the main camera.
M.D.K.: “Welcome to Russia fuck knuckles... Hope of corruption, sour faces and an insane amount of hate for everything that isn’t white and heterosexual. It’s a place where I feel right at home it may surprise you to hear... See, I etched quite the name for myself out here for being an all purpose asshole for hire and lived and breathed this place for years. To win here is second nature for me but then again to win anywhere is just like breathing for me... Regardless of the odds stacked against me... And boy aren’t the odds stacked against me?”
“My Special Olympics Handicapped partner aside, standing on the other side of the ring is the holder of best hair, most make-up, most feminine and the highest amount of monthly blood letting in the WGWF... And he’s partnered with my darling queen... My poor, sweet Alyce is going to have to tag with that oaf... That peasant... That peon... That... Pissant...”
He looks to the side camera again.
M.D.K.: “You’re welcome.”
Before looking back at the main camera again with a weary frown.
M.D.K.: “So my sweet queen... We meet in the middle of the ring again. A lot has happened since our last encounter in the ring. The sexual tension has passed by now and we have moved out of the honeymoon phase of our love. I’ve watched your arsehole twitch like a rabbit’s nose during sex and I’ve taken a shit while you’ve showered beside me... I imagine they were picking sweetcorn out of the plughole for hours... That was a crazy night...”
“But you see, I have no qualms in beating you in the centre of the ring... If that let’s me pound your...”
*Buzz*
1 WhatsApp Message
Alyce: I told you not a fucking chance...
M.D.K shrugs and continues.
M.D.K: “It was worth a try... Look, Alyce... We don’t have to take out clothes off to have a good time a great man once said that... Admittedly it was a man who clearly did a lot of clothing removal and then died an AIDS related death... But we don’t have to hurt each other. We can circumvent the issue and have our fun later... Because we have a bigger common threat and a greater common goal and above all of that we have one agreement we made at the beginning of whatever we are... If one of us stands in the way of the other’s goals, we brush them aside just like everybody else... So trust me when I say this Alyce, you stop me from beating your pretty boy partner this Monday on Brawl, I won’t hesitate in taking your head from your shoulders... And putting it to good use later...”
“Above all else though, there’s one scared little boy going to be cowering behind your apron strings this week Alyce. A boy who many have grown weary of with his confusing diatribes, an oaf who spouts nonsense each and every week as he single-handedly devalues the greatest prize in this industry. There’s one scared boy who’s going through every stage of fear to deal with the golden ticket that I have at my disposal... You’ve tried the defiant approach, you’ve tried to bait a reaction out of me and now you are opting for the dismissive approach with a little bit of bargaining thrown in.”
“You see, the best part about having this shot is that I call the shots with YOUR title reign... Why do you think the powers that be have done such a thing Slater? While you wait and flinch at every spotlight change on the ramp-way, while you anticipate the opening bars of my music to hit and as you wince at every sideways glance, why don’t you think about that while the fact you have never beaten me rot away in that pretty little subconscious of yours. You never have, you never will and you sure as shit won’t this week on Brawl.”
He smiles wickedly as a Russian tannoy announcement makes the King of the WGWF stand up and grab his bag.
M.D.K.: “Looks like it is time to fly. Tristan and your only hope this week of victory rests on 4 factors...
The pilot is channelling his inner John Denver.
The flight is operated by Malaysian Airlines.
It’s flying over Ukrainian Airspace.
Or
The fucking potato decides to get involved.
And yet again it will see you fail to beat me won’t it? Face facts Trissy baby... You are one thing other than a tissue paper champion. I know it, you know it, Alyce sure as shit knows is and even with the help of a crayon or two, my potato partner will have an inkling about it... And that is that YOU... ARE... INFERIOR!”
He winks at the camera, swings his bag over his shoulder and heads out of the terminal into the snowy Siberia evening as the scene fades out...