Post by Max f'n Daemon on May 27, 2018 22:24:02 GMT -5
The plane…jet…aircraft…pretty sure they call it a Bullhead here, I don’t really care, starts to shake. HHH looks around the carrier, taking a look at all the teenage faces, all stuck in their own worlds, confined to their own school life, ignorant to the future that is only months ahead. Why are they ignorant?
Blame the adults. It always works, and in this case, is absolutely correct.
As the bullhead begins to descend towards its destination, “The Game” by Motorhead starts to play. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his cell. He answers it, immediately holding it to his ear.
“Jack,” he says.
“Jack,” the caller responds.
Oh great, the redhead, self-processed “boy genius”. Also known as Paradox’s second-hand.
“What is it Spicer?” Hardhead asks.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you why you’re here?” Spicer asks back.
“Figure out who Noxurus is here to recruit and adapt accordingly,” Hardhead says.
“Good, you’re not clouded by emotion. Just try not to draw too much attention to yourself. We don’t need the entire population questioning why a guy in a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops is in a school for professional hunters,” Spicer says.
“So Kingdom Hearts rules, got it. And for your information Spicer, I am very clouded by emotion. It’s just, given the situation, I’m a little bit more than willing to cooperate if it means Noxurus’s body on a fuckin pike, Cannnibal Holocaust style. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the flight attendant wants my ass,” Hardhead says.
HHH hangs up the phone, putting it away in his pocket. The aforementioned flight attendant walks up just as HHH stands out of his seat.
“Sir, for future reference, please refrain from using your scroll while the flight is descending,” she says.
“Right.”
Hardhead walks on by, ignoring the indignantly pissed look she gives him. He walks through the giant bay door, not stopping until he is on solid concrete. He glances around as the landscape, noticing students passing by, most of them giving him looks.
Fucking ironic considering the BDSM, gothic shit they’re wearing.
Speaking of BDSM, the lead punisher approaches. Dressed like a teacher straight out of Harry Potter, albeit with a leather crop instead of a wooden wand, the sidekick to the Headmaster stops in front of me.
“Mr. Hunter, I wasn’t aware you were visiting. I was sure I told Professor Paradox to alert me when one of a different realm arrives, unless—”
“—it’s an emergency, which it is. Where’s Jaune?” Hardhead asks.
“Mr. Arc? I’m afraid him and his team are currently in the Emerald Forest doing their usual training,” she says.
“Good. Feel free to lead the way, Glynda,” HHH says.
“Jack, what is going on? If it’s something that involves Mr. Arc I’m sure Ozpin would be more than happy to—”
The sounds of a distinctive squawk reaches both of their ears. It causes them both to tense up before sighing and lowering their heads.
“Shit,” they say simultaneously.
Behind Glynda, HHH watches closely as a black bird lands in a tree. Not too long after, a human falls out, landing on his feet. With his flask already in hand, the black-haired scraggly man approaches them. Through gritted teeth, HHH mutters something to Glynda.
“Those are the kind of ears I wanted to avoid, Miss Goodwitch,” he says.
“My apologies,” she says.
The scraggly man reaches the two of them, placing his arms on both of their shoulders.
“Holy shit. Jack Hunter and Glynda Goodwitch in one place. I haven’t seen that since that Diego fucker got arrested by Atlas. Hey Jack, how long were you guys in that hotel room again?” he says.
“Hello Qrow. I see you still have shit taste in drinks,” HHH says.
He turns his head, biting the tip of Qrow’s flask and leaning back. This takes it out of his hand and the drinks down HHH’s gullet. Glynda grimaces, as one naturally would.
Eventually, HHH lets it drop. Qrow catches it in the hand the former’s shoulder. He takes a peak down the thing, tipping it over. Alas, nothing pours out.
“I see you can still hold your liquor,” he says.
“And if I had more time to spare I’d love to throw back however many shots we could find, but I’m in the middle of something. Something that doesn’t involve…your alliances,” HHH says.
Qrow uses his pinky to scratch his right ear.
“Fair enough. If Ozzy finds you I’ll make sure to make up an excuse. Of course, not like there’s not one standing to my left,” he says.
“Qrow!” Glynda growls.
“Alright, alright, I’m going. Try not to take long. I’m sure Ozzy’s already seen you,” Qrow says.
With that, the drunkard walks backwards. HHH and Glynda watch him as he falls back off the platform of the bullhead. A few seconds later, a black bird starts to fly up towards the tall tower looming over them.
HHH looks back towards Glynda and she does the same.
“Emerald Forest was it?” HHH asks.
“I’ll lead the way,” she says.
------------------------------------------------------------------
“So let me get this straight…you need my help to try and figure out who some…what was his name again?”
“Noxurus,” HHH says.
“Right, this…Noxurus…you need my help to try and figure out who exactly he might try and recruit from this dimension.”
“Basically. He wouldn’t take Salem. Ozzy would notice that easily and would fuck up too much of the set timeline. He’s a weird chaotic evil kind of guy,” HHH says.
“Okay…than I have one question in return?”
“Which would be…?
“Why the fuck should I help you?” the blonde damn near shouts.
The birds above us fly off in a tiffy.
“Jaune? Are you alright?” a soft but commanding voice is heard through the bushes.
That’s the thing about secret meetings: their easier held in somewhere hidden and hard to hear. When you raise your voice, it defeats the purpose.
“Yeah, I’m fine Pyrrha. Thanks,” Jaune says.
The sounds of Glynda’s voice comforting Pyrrha is drowned out by HHH’s next words.
“Well, for starters, the destruction of the Council would mean no world would have peace. You’d have no control of anything and everything you do from here on out could be permanent across all the timelines. Or maybe other dimensions could fall victim to the same issue yours had the last time we met. Or maybe—and here’s my favorite part—your fucking hero complex that doesn’t stop you from saving worlds, not just your own.
So here’s the thing Jaune. The Council agreed to let you do as you want in your own dimension, but Noxurus’ involvement kinda jeopardizes that because he’s involved in your own dimension.
So…Jaune…who the hell would Noxurus possibly take?”
Jaune shakes his head, glancing down at the ground despite.
A few moments pass with HHH tapping his hip in impatience.
Eventually, Jaune sighs, glancing up at HHH’s eyes.
“Near as I can tell, Oz doesn’t know Raven’s the Spring Maiden. This Noxurus guy—if he’s as smart as you say he is—could use that. Her absence would be troubling for Oz and Qrow, but the former can sustain the latter in this timeline. So long as it doesn’t bleed into any other ones, that’ll be who he’d be after,” Jaune says.
“And we stop Raven how?” HHH asks.
“Don’t know. Never could. I often try to avoid her until I’m much more powerful, but Yang usually deals the killing blow, pun intended. The problem is that when she dies, her powers would go to the last female she thinks of. If Noxurus nabs another female to work for him, it could very easily end up being her.”
“Shit this just got more complicated. Alright, fair enough. Thank you, Jaune,” HHH says.
“Jack…” Glynda says.
“Hold on a minute Glynda. Look, Jaune, I know you hate us, and you should, but I want you to know that we’re trying very hard to find a solution for you. You’ve done more than enough. I think it’s time that we started taking your semblance seriously.”
“Jack.” Glynda says.
“Give me a second Glynda. I’ll put in a word with Spicer and we’ll see if he can’t try and research some solution. I’m sure there’s a Wu he could use to solve it.”
“Jack!” Glynda calls.
“Jesus…what?”
HHH exits the clearing with Jaune. There he finds Pyrrha and her other two teammates standing behind a grey-haired man with a cane and glasses. To his left stands Glynda. To his right stands Qrow.
“Good afternoon, Mr Hunter. Nice of you to stop by,” the man says.
HHH looks over to Qrow, who, to his credit, scratches the back of his head in guilt. Plus the flask is away, empty or not.
“Heh…told you he already saw you…” he says.
Hardhead sighs, with Jaune joining him in damn near harmony.
“God dammit Ozpin…” HHH says.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
A small camera comes on. It’s in a rectangular form, unlike the usual widescreen. Judging by the quality of the video and audio, it’s safe to assume it’s a phone.
“So it turns out I’m a guest teacher here for a week and a half to compensate for some past deal Paradox made. So that’s fun.
Anyway…as I sit here in this…shitty lobby at night with this lone desk lamp on me, I can’t help but think to the match ahead. You know, like any wrestler would.
How amazing was last Brawl though? I managed to make an impact through faking my retirement. And don’t try and lie MDK that reaction proves that it went over more than a fart in the church. It was at least diarrhea on the altar levels.
It feels great to stay and prove that I am actually deserving of this spot in the card.
But I’ve been watching everybody’s thoughts on the match and it’s actually really saddening that, for my first official weekly match, it’s a match that none of the participants seem to give a shit about. Well, except for me and that John Tolly guy. Which I’ll get back to later.
Normally this’d be a detriment to them but apparently believing that leads to my downfall more times than not so it’d be stupid to underestimate them. I mean, we’ve got the Royal Family here. I’ve always been a fan of royalty. King Crab. Chicken a la King. Caesar Salad, sometimes. I love me some Burger King and Dairy Queen.
But seriously though, Queen Elizabeth is definitely on my bucket list.
This is fucking wrestling. This isn’t a war for life and death. Trust me, I know what those feel like. I prefer wrestling, although the pay is better in war.
Anyway…my point is, the Royal Family needs to get over their royal asses. The Queen Alice Starchylde is…sure, worthy of such a name given her…
…okay, she’s hot, I said it…
…but that’s the thing about her: she’s a child. For someone has diverse as MDK and Chris Page are you’d think they’d hook themselves up with someone that has a bit more experience. Shit, I hear Paul Frost is hiring if you can find him. Why not join him, at least you’ll have more credibility to lose.
Shit, at this rate, Alyce is bound for another shot at the World Title. She’ll lose, of course, because Tristan Slater is nigh untouchable right now, but in terms of matches, I’m sure she’ll give it her all.
Plus Chris and MDK are bound to interfere and fail so it is, all in all, a losing effort all the same.
Which reminds me of those two, actually.
MDK didn’t give too much of a shit to actually put effort in so he decided to do the standard Hawaiian Hardhead insult: fat, Hawaiian, dumb, and bad at wresting.
Astounding. A guy that’s handed his balls over on a silver platter to serve a false Queen has the nerve to call me a peon. If I’m truly a peon, why is it that I can stand over you? Barring the obvious height difference, it takes a lot of brass to say that I’m lower when you’re the one bowing by choice.
I don’t give a fuck about who you serve, alright? To be honest, I’d much rather face somebody who’d die protecting a pretty face they have no personal attachment to. They’re a lot easier to defeat and get distracted easily. I’ll make sure to bring my Alice Starchylde t-shirt and burn it so you can spit on its flames in a vain effort to save your precious.
That being said, snoo-snooing a hot chick with a royalty complex with a dude that likes to get high isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Ohp…hold up, just got a text.”
HHH puts his finger against the camera. He moves his finger right before leaning back.
“Huh…just found out Chris is gay so that kind of ruins Chris’ involvement.
Meh, I’d still do it if I got enough drinks out of the deal.
Oh yeah, speaking of Chris, he actually gave me some compliments, hiding in his weird attempt to discredit me.
At least now I know what it feels like to be considered a kid when you’re old enough to be somebody’s grandfather. Well…if they got pregnant at eighteen, but you’d be surprised how often that happens.
Self-reminder, call Stephanie afterwards and ask her how she’s doing.
Chris Page actually thinks I’m going to feel insulted that he thinks I’m not good enough to sit at the royal feast. Congratulations, you’ve been wrestling for like twenty years. I had a little bit of a break there so you can forgive me if I have something to prove to arrogant pieces of shits like you. Seriously, I got enough of you fucks when Eric Anderson, RJ Palmer, and Dante Anglais were around. At least those fuckers gave me the time of day, you just have to balls to acknowledge me as lower when—again—you’re serving some false queen.
I was serious about that Paul Frost thing. Dude’s hiring like crazy. I got this application from his agent and it actually has some good benefits.
All in all though, I’m not too worried about the royal family. I’m more worried about my partner, Mr. Smiles. Dude actually thinks we’re losing and that my ass is gonna eat the pin. I’ll eat a lot of things willingly, pins aren’t one of him. To be honest, at the rate these videos are going I’d much rather take Mr. Tolly and take a hike while you’re stuck getting a royal beat down.
I never said my world play was original.
Seriously, when a new guy like John Tolly gives more of a shit than most of the veterans in this match, it gives me the sweetest fucking satisfaction when my new personal goal is to get that aforementioned new guy his first win. And even better…his first pinfall victory.
Who should it be? The peon MDK who’s already down on his knees?
The royal queen who’d hate to lower herself—literally—to somebody like John?
Or maybe the owner of the company and arrogant fuck known as Chris Page?
I’ll let the kid decide.
Oh…you weren’t aware of where this match would go?
Well…it’s actually pretty simple…because I didn’t want you to know.”
HHH turns the camera off.
------------------------------------------
Hardheads stops himself in front of a door marked “Gooodwitch.”
For a few brief moments, he looks at her name. His hand raises, going to knock.
He stops when he notices the ring around his middle finger.
With a deep sigh, he lowers the hand, depositing the ring into his pocket.
He knocks.
The door opens.
She stands there.
He smiles.
She smiles.
He walks in.
The door closes behind him.
Blame the adults. It always works, and in this case, is absolutely correct.
As the bullhead begins to descend towards its destination, “The Game” by Motorhead starts to play. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his cell. He answers it, immediately holding it to his ear.
“Jack,” he says.
“Jack,” the caller responds.
Oh great, the redhead, self-processed “boy genius”. Also known as Paradox’s second-hand.
“What is it Spicer?” Hardhead asks.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you why you’re here?” Spicer asks back.
“Figure out who Noxurus is here to recruit and adapt accordingly,” Hardhead says.
“Good, you’re not clouded by emotion. Just try not to draw too much attention to yourself. We don’t need the entire population questioning why a guy in a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops is in a school for professional hunters,” Spicer says.
“So Kingdom Hearts rules, got it. And for your information Spicer, I am very clouded by emotion. It’s just, given the situation, I’m a little bit more than willing to cooperate if it means Noxurus’s body on a fuckin pike, Cannnibal Holocaust style. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the flight attendant wants my ass,” Hardhead says.
HHH hangs up the phone, putting it away in his pocket. The aforementioned flight attendant walks up just as HHH stands out of his seat.
“Sir, for future reference, please refrain from using your scroll while the flight is descending,” she says.
“Right.”
Hardhead walks on by, ignoring the indignantly pissed look she gives him. He walks through the giant bay door, not stopping until he is on solid concrete. He glances around as the landscape, noticing students passing by, most of them giving him looks.
Fucking ironic considering the BDSM, gothic shit they’re wearing.
Speaking of BDSM, the lead punisher approaches. Dressed like a teacher straight out of Harry Potter, albeit with a leather crop instead of a wooden wand, the sidekick to the Headmaster stops in front of me.
“Mr. Hunter, I wasn’t aware you were visiting. I was sure I told Professor Paradox to alert me when one of a different realm arrives, unless—”
“—it’s an emergency, which it is. Where’s Jaune?” Hardhead asks.
“Mr. Arc? I’m afraid him and his team are currently in the Emerald Forest doing their usual training,” she says.
“Good. Feel free to lead the way, Glynda,” HHH says.
“Jack, what is going on? If it’s something that involves Mr. Arc I’m sure Ozpin would be more than happy to—”
The sounds of a distinctive squawk reaches both of their ears. It causes them both to tense up before sighing and lowering their heads.
“Shit,” they say simultaneously.
Behind Glynda, HHH watches closely as a black bird lands in a tree. Not too long after, a human falls out, landing on his feet. With his flask already in hand, the black-haired scraggly man approaches them. Through gritted teeth, HHH mutters something to Glynda.
“Those are the kind of ears I wanted to avoid, Miss Goodwitch,” he says.
“My apologies,” she says.
The scraggly man reaches the two of them, placing his arms on both of their shoulders.
“Holy shit. Jack Hunter and Glynda Goodwitch in one place. I haven’t seen that since that Diego fucker got arrested by Atlas. Hey Jack, how long were you guys in that hotel room again?” he says.
“Hello Qrow. I see you still have shit taste in drinks,” HHH says.
He turns his head, biting the tip of Qrow’s flask and leaning back. This takes it out of his hand and the drinks down HHH’s gullet. Glynda grimaces, as one naturally would.
Eventually, HHH lets it drop. Qrow catches it in the hand the former’s shoulder. He takes a peak down the thing, tipping it over. Alas, nothing pours out.
“I see you can still hold your liquor,” he says.
“And if I had more time to spare I’d love to throw back however many shots we could find, but I’m in the middle of something. Something that doesn’t involve…your alliances,” HHH says.
Qrow uses his pinky to scratch his right ear.
“Fair enough. If Ozzy finds you I’ll make sure to make up an excuse. Of course, not like there’s not one standing to my left,” he says.
“Qrow!” Glynda growls.
“Alright, alright, I’m going. Try not to take long. I’m sure Ozzy’s already seen you,” Qrow says.
With that, the drunkard walks backwards. HHH and Glynda watch him as he falls back off the platform of the bullhead. A few seconds later, a black bird starts to fly up towards the tall tower looming over them.
HHH looks back towards Glynda and she does the same.
“Emerald Forest was it?” HHH asks.
“I’ll lead the way,” she says.
------------------------------------------------------------------
“So let me get this straight…you need my help to try and figure out who some…what was his name again?”
“Noxurus,” HHH says.
“Right, this…Noxurus…you need my help to try and figure out who exactly he might try and recruit from this dimension.”
“Basically. He wouldn’t take Salem. Ozzy would notice that easily and would fuck up too much of the set timeline. He’s a weird chaotic evil kind of guy,” HHH says.
“Okay…than I have one question in return?”
“Which would be…?
“Why the fuck should I help you?” the blonde damn near shouts.
The birds above us fly off in a tiffy.
“Jaune? Are you alright?” a soft but commanding voice is heard through the bushes.
That’s the thing about secret meetings: their easier held in somewhere hidden and hard to hear. When you raise your voice, it defeats the purpose.
“Yeah, I’m fine Pyrrha. Thanks,” Jaune says.
The sounds of Glynda’s voice comforting Pyrrha is drowned out by HHH’s next words.
“Well, for starters, the destruction of the Council would mean no world would have peace. You’d have no control of anything and everything you do from here on out could be permanent across all the timelines. Or maybe other dimensions could fall victim to the same issue yours had the last time we met. Or maybe—and here’s my favorite part—your fucking hero complex that doesn’t stop you from saving worlds, not just your own.
So here’s the thing Jaune. The Council agreed to let you do as you want in your own dimension, but Noxurus’ involvement kinda jeopardizes that because he’s involved in your own dimension.
So…Jaune…who the hell would Noxurus possibly take?”
Jaune shakes his head, glancing down at the ground despite.
A few moments pass with HHH tapping his hip in impatience.
Eventually, Jaune sighs, glancing up at HHH’s eyes.
“Near as I can tell, Oz doesn’t know Raven’s the Spring Maiden. This Noxurus guy—if he’s as smart as you say he is—could use that. Her absence would be troubling for Oz and Qrow, but the former can sustain the latter in this timeline. So long as it doesn’t bleed into any other ones, that’ll be who he’d be after,” Jaune says.
“And we stop Raven how?” HHH asks.
“Don’t know. Never could. I often try to avoid her until I’m much more powerful, but Yang usually deals the killing blow, pun intended. The problem is that when she dies, her powers would go to the last female she thinks of. If Noxurus nabs another female to work for him, it could very easily end up being her.”
“Shit this just got more complicated. Alright, fair enough. Thank you, Jaune,” HHH says.
“Jack…” Glynda says.
“Hold on a minute Glynda. Look, Jaune, I know you hate us, and you should, but I want you to know that we’re trying very hard to find a solution for you. You’ve done more than enough. I think it’s time that we started taking your semblance seriously.”
“Jack.” Glynda says.
“Give me a second Glynda. I’ll put in a word with Spicer and we’ll see if he can’t try and research some solution. I’m sure there’s a Wu he could use to solve it.”
“Jack!” Glynda calls.
“Jesus…what?”
HHH exits the clearing with Jaune. There he finds Pyrrha and her other two teammates standing behind a grey-haired man with a cane and glasses. To his left stands Glynda. To his right stands Qrow.
“Good afternoon, Mr Hunter. Nice of you to stop by,” the man says.
HHH looks over to Qrow, who, to his credit, scratches the back of his head in guilt. Plus the flask is away, empty or not.
“Heh…told you he already saw you…” he says.
Hardhead sighs, with Jaune joining him in damn near harmony.
“God dammit Ozpin…” HHH says.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
A small camera comes on. It’s in a rectangular form, unlike the usual widescreen. Judging by the quality of the video and audio, it’s safe to assume it’s a phone.
“So it turns out I’m a guest teacher here for a week and a half to compensate for some past deal Paradox made. So that’s fun.
Anyway…as I sit here in this…shitty lobby at night with this lone desk lamp on me, I can’t help but think to the match ahead. You know, like any wrestler would.
How amazing was last Brawl though? I managed to make an impact through faking my retirement. And don’t try and lie MDK that reaction proves that it went over more than a fart in the church. It was at least diarrhea on the altar levels.
It feels great to stay and prove that I am actually deserving of this spot in the card.
But I’ve been watching everybody’s thoughts on the match and it’s actually really saddening that, for my first official weekly match, it’s a match that none of the participants seem to give a shit about. Well, except for me and that John Tolly guy. Which I’ll get back to later.
Normally this’d be a detriment to them but apparently believing that leads to my downfall more times than not so it’d be stupid to underestimate them. I mean, we’ve got the Royal Family here. I’ve always been a fan of royalty. King Crab. Chicken a la King. Caesar Salad, sometimes. I love me some Burger King and Dairy Queen.
But seriously though, Queen Elizabeth is definitely on my bucket list.
This is fucking wrestling. This isn’t a war for life and death. Trust me, I know what those feel like. I prefer wrestling, although the pay is better in war.
Anyway…my point is, the Royal Family needs to get over their royal asses. The Queen Alice Starchylde is…sure, worthy of such a name given her…
…okay, she’s hot, I said it…
…but that’s the thing about her: she’s a child. For someone has diverse as MDK and Chris Page are you’d think they’d hook themselves up with someone that has a bit more experience. Shit, I hear Paul Frost is hiring if you can find him. Why not join him, at least you’ll have more credibility to lose.
Shit, at this rate, Alyce is bound for another shot at the World Title. She’ll lose, of course, because Tristan Slater is nigh untouchable right now, but in terms of matches, I’m sure she’ll give it her all.
Plus Chris and MDK are bound to interfere and fail so it is, all in all, a losing effort all the same.
Which reminds me of those two, actually.
MDK didn’t give too much of a shit to actually put effort in so he decided to do the standard Hawaiian Hardhead insult: fat, Hawaiian, dumb, and bad at wresting.
Astounding. A guy that’s handed his balls over on a silver platter to serve a false Queen has the nerve to call me a peon. If I’m truly a peon, why is it that I can stand over you? Barring the obvious height difference, it takes a lot of brass to say that I’m lower when you’re the one bowing by choice.
I don’t give a fuck about who you serve, alright? To be honest, I’d much rather face somebody who’d die protecting a pretty face they have no personal attachment to. They’re a lot easier to defeat and get distracted easily. I’ll make sure to bring my Alice Starchylde t-shirt and burn it so you can spit on its flames in a vain effort to save your precious.
That being said, snoo-snooing a hot chick with a royalty complex with a dude that likes to get high isn’t the worst thing in the world.
Ohp…hold up, just got a text.”
HHH puts his finger against the camera. He moves his finger right before leaning back.
“Huh…just found out Chris is gay so that kind of ruins Chris’ involvement.
Meh, I’d still do it if I got enough drinks out of the deal.
Oh yeah, speaking of Chris, he actually gave me some compliments, hiding in his weird attempt to discredit me.
At least now I know what it feels like to be considered a kid when you’re old enough to be somebody’s grandfather. Well…if they got pregnant at eighteen, but you’d be surprised how often that happens.
Self-reminder, call Stephanie afterwards and ask her how she’s doing.
Chris Page actually thinks I’m going to feel insulted that he thinks I’m not good enough to sit at the royal feast. Congratulations, you’ve been wrestling for like twenty years. I had a little bit of a break there so you can forgive me if I have something to prove to arrogant pieces of shits like you. Seriously, I got enough of you fucks when Eric Anderson, RJ Palmer, and Dante Anglais were around. At least those fuckers gave me the time of day, you just have to balls to acknowledge me as lower when—again—you’re serving some false queen.
I was serious about that Paul Frost thing. Dude’s hiring like crazy. I got this application from his agent and it actually has some good benefits.
All in all though, I’m not too worried about the royal family. I’m more worried about my partner, Mr. Smiles. Dude actually thinks we’re losing and that my ass is gonna eat the pin. I’ll eat a lot of things willingly, pins aren’t one of him. To be honest, at the rate these videos are going I’d much rather take Mr. Tolly and take a hike while you’re stuck getting a royal beat down.
I never said my world play was original.
Seriously, when a new guy like John Tolly gives more of a shit than most of the veterans in this match, it gives me the sweetest fucking satisfaction when my new personal goal is to get that aforementioned new guy his first win. And even better…his first pinfall victory.
Who should it be? The peon MDK who’s already down on his knees?
The royal queen who’d hate to lower herself—literally—to somebody like John?
Or maybe the owner of the company and arrogant fuck known as Chris Page?
I’ll let the kid decide.
Oh…you weren’t aware of where this match would go?
Well…it’s actually pretty simple…because I didn’t want you to know.”
HHH turns the camera off.
------------------------------------------
Hardheads stops himself in front of a door marked “Gooodwitch.”
For a few brief moments, he looks at her name. His hand raises, going to knock.
He stops when he notices the ring around his middle finger.
With a deep sigh, he lowers the hand, depositing the ring into his pocket.
He knocks.
The door opens.
She stands there.
He smiles.
She smiles.
He walks in.
The door closes behind him.