Post by themeccaofmanhood on Dec 28, 2022 16:31:14 GMT -5
Imagine having one dream for your entire life. Not a dream you came up with, but a dream that was planted into your brain before you were even old enough to form your own dreams or thoughts. This is Mike Mason and football. His father had been in the NFL, with two trips to the Superbowl, and five Pro Bowls. From birth, Mike Mason's father Andrew had pushed him to be not just a football player, but an all-time great, and Mike had never thought of doing anything else.
Football had been good to Mike Mason, well actually, it had been Marvelous to Mike Mason. It got him through high school with minimal effort, it had gotten him laid countless times, it got him a free college education, and it got him a contract worth millions of dollars with the Dallas Cowboys. But as he lay in a hospital bed with his leg elevated after knee surgery caused by a torn ACL, Mason wished this was one thing football hadn't given him.
The Mecca of Manhood lays in his hospital bed, depressed at his current state, and alone. Mason flips through the channels looking for something to watch, there is Monday Night Football, but he can't bare to watch it at that time. He changes the channel and sees professional wrestling, the sight of this causes Mason to shake his head and mumble "how stupid". He changes the channel again to a rerun of Golden Girls, Mason smirks and says, "I'd give Blanche a go, maybe she could teach me a thing or two"
Mason sighs and changes the channel again, and again, and again. Finally frustrated he turns the TV off and throws the remote down on his bed. Mason leans back into the bed and stares up at the ceiling. "What am I going to do now", he thinks out loud. He exhales deeply and slowly, he doesn't know anything but football and training, it is all he has ever done and all he ever dreamed of doing.
As he lays in the bed a new feeling creeps over him, a feeling he has very seldom ever felt, a feeling of loneliness. Mason has always been on a team and always had people cheering him on and telling him how great he is. Just a mere twenty-four hours ago Mason was at the height of his life, starting outside linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys as a rookie, playing in his fourth NFL game, making millions of dollars, and swimming in W.A.P.
But twelve hours ago Mason fell from that high to a new low. Mason had some around the corner on a blitz, ready to sack the Carolina Panther's all-pro quarterback. Mason was focused on the QB, and not on the left guard who had pancaked the defensive tackle he was blocking. To save his quarterback the guard had to move fast, and a three-hundred-and-thirty-pound man doesn’t always move very fast. The guard dives low and cut blocks, Mason, on the side of his left knee. Mason falls on top of the guard, and the guard was still on top of Mason’s knee. Mason felt his knee twist and bend in a way that was not natural. He felt a pop, followed by a burning pain, a pain that he hadn’t felt before. As the play ended and the guard rolled off of the knee, Mason was in severe pain but refused to stay down. Mason tried to stand up he collapsed under his own weight, finding he couldn't put any weight on the knee. Mason knew he was in trouble, he knew he wasn’t just hurt, but he was injured.
Mason had to be carted off the field and was taken to the hospital before the game even ended. Since being in the hospital Mason had not heard from anyone. No calls, no visitors. Mason had heard the Cowboys had defeated the Panthers, so he could understand his teammates and coaching staff being distracted with celebration, but what about everyone else he had surrounded himself with? His agent, his assistant, his dietitian, his personal trainer, his stylist, none of them had reached out to Mason. It was at this moment Mason realized they were not his friends; they were his employees. He paid them for a service, and the more they were around the more he paid them.
Mason began to wonder if he truly had any friends at all, and then slowly realized he was alone. Mason realized the only person he could count on in this world was himself, and that is all he needed. Mason had always been on a team, and while he was brash and arrogant, he had always done what was best for the team. But now, it was time to focus on Team Mason, after all that is the most Marvelous team.
After that point in time Mason would no longer be a team player, he would no longer concern himself with the needs and wants of other individuals, but only with what would best benefit himself. Mason would ensure he got the last drop out of all his paid employees, and ensure he kept them at arm’s length. Mason would never allow himself to be vulnerable again. His body was going to come back bigger and stronger, and so would his psyche.
*The scene fades from the reenactment scene to the Modern Day Adonis, dressed in a custom shark skin suit, and sitting in a director's chair across the Glow Wurm Animoprh Scott Van Pelt, who is wearing one of his ridiculous plaid suits that not even Steve Harvey could make look good. The setting of this scene is that of a one-on-one interview-style show. Most of the room is blacked out except for the red cloth backdrop and the large video screen with the 30 for 30 logo on it that ]occupies the space between Mason and Van Pelt. *
Mike Mason, you were at one point in life, what most people would consider down and out. You’ve certainly pulled yourself out of that though. Not only did you return to play in the NFL the very next season, but you have gone on to become a three-time Mr. Universe, a one-time Mr. Olympia, and a multi-time champion in the sport of professional wrestling, to what do you attest this marvelous return after such a devastating injury?
Well, Scott, you hear the phrase “I’m built differently” tossed around a lot lately, but in the case of the Mecca of Manhood, it is one hundred percent true. I’m not your typical soft-bellied soy boy, I’m the Abdominal Adonis, I am the Mecca of Manhood. I’ve got this burning determination and fire in my chiseled ab-covered belly to not just succeed, but to be the absolute best at anything that I do. Everything I've ever attempted, and everywhere I have gone, that is exactly what I have done, be the absolute best.
This West Coast rumble that WGWF is putting on, that's my next accomplishment. I'll win that rumble, which also means I'll win the World Championship, thus making me the greatest professional wrestler in the world. Better than the internet trolls' favorite fapping girl, Samantha "you sleep with her, you better get your shots" Vox. Better than the world series of wrestling winner Peter "the turd wrangler" Vaughn. Of course, Vaughn wins the world series of wrestling, he’s the epitome of the most famous world series, boring, and never seems to be over. Even better than the Internet's favorite, Raion "I'm Japanese so I must have five-star matches" Ya gotta be Kido-ing me.
I see a lot of people in this rumble who are supposed to be more famous than me and picked higher to win than me, but I’ve never cared what the critics and bookmakers have thought about me. Just because I don't go around social media begging for attention, and only posting material and comments that the soy boys and feminists of the internet will deem appropriate. No, no, no, the Mecca of Manhood speaks the truth, and it just so happens that the truth is what hurts the feelings of those little snowflakes who live on the internet. Sure, The Punisher and Mac Bane know about going viral, but that is just because they’ve shared the beds of those skank basic fives Sonya Benson and Amber Ryan,
I see a lot of people in this rumble who are supposed to be more famous than me and picked higher to win than me, but I’ve never cared what the critics and bookmakers have thought about me. Just because I don't go around social media begging for attention, and only posting material and comments that the soy boys and feminists of the internet will deem appropriate. No, no, no, the Mecca of Manhood speaks the truth, and it just so happens that the truth is what hurts the feelings of those little snowflakes who live on the internet. Sure, The Punisher and Mac Bane know about going viral, but that is just because they’ve shared the beds of those skank basic fives Sonya Benson and Amber Ryan,
*SVP, holds his hand up and shakes his head, this human penis-head-looking duffus has the nerve to interrupts the Bishop of Biceps. *
Michael, I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with your ability to return to the highest level of athletics, namely the NFL so quickly after a devastating injury like tearing your ACL?
If you’d keep that hotdog warmer you call your mouth shut, I was getting to it. Don’t interrupt the Big Natty Daddy again, SVP. Now, as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. I was able to come back from an injury that retires most people and come back quicker than almost anyone in history, because of my work ethic, my mental toughness, and the massive grapefruits that swing between my legs along that plantain that has the ladies calling me fruit by the foot. I’ve always outworked everyone and done what others either can’t or are simply afraid to because of my mental and physical toughness.
The same work ethic, physical toughness, and mental toughness that brought me back to the gridiron so quickly, the same that moved me to the top of the bodybuilding world, the same that made me a multi-millionaire in the nutrition and supplement world, and the same that made me the Iconic Pro World champion, will help me win the West Coast Rumble, and make me the WGWF World Champion. The same thing that took people like Tiger Woods, Georges St-Pierre, and Daunte Culpepper out, didn’t even stop me, it only set the stage for my second and third acts.
Do you think someone like Holden Ross would have been able to do what I did? Holden can’t even put the meth pipe down or walk away from a Golden Corral, so what makes anyone think he could win this rumble, let alone come back from an injury as I did? People like Holden Ross, Beta Boy Bam Miller, Ace-hole Sky, and Mark “barely even mid” Flynn, don’t have what it takes to overcome injuries, and they damn sure don't have what it takes to overcome the Mecca of Manhood and win the West Coast Rumble?
The same work ethic, physical toughness, and mental toughness that brought me back to the gridiron so quickly, the same that moved me to the top of the bodybuilding world, the same that made me a multi-millionaire in the nutrition and supplement world, and the same that made me the Iconic Pro World champion, will help me win the West Coast Rumble, and make me the WGWF World Champion. The same thing that took people like Tiger Woods, Georges St-Pierre, and Daunte Culpepper out, didn’t even stop me, it only set the stage for my second and third acts.
Do you think someone like Holden Ross would have been able to do what I did? Holden can’t even put the meth pipe down or walk away from a Golden Corral, so what makes anyone think he could win this rumble, let alone come back from an injury as I did? People like Holden Ross, Beta Boy Bam Miller, Ace-hole Sky, and Mark “barely even mid” Flynn, don’t have what it takes to overcome injuries, and they damn sure don't have what it takes to overcome the Mecca of Manhood and win the West Coast Rumble?
Well, you certainly sound confident, and I’d say it seems you’re going into this match with a pretty big chip on your shoulder.
You’re right I am Scott. I’m not getting the respect I deserve around here. Putting me on Dark, making me engage in a dance contest, and leaving me out of the Television title tournament. WGWF isn’t putting respect on the name Marvelous Mike Mason, but after I toss those other twenty-nine sacks of monkey crap out of the rumble, they will have no choice but to bow down before the God of Gains.
Well let’s look back at another time in your career when you may have felt disrespected, and carried a chip on your shoulder.
*The shot of the human phallus, Scott Van Pelt fades away reveal a hideous teal jersey with the number "57" and the name "Mason" on the back. This is obviously a reenactment as the actor isn't nearly as jacked or tan as The Mecca of Manhood, but then again no one is. Sitting in a folding chair, and starring at the jersey is the Titan of Tenacity, and as he stares the SVP voice over begins again. *
Mike Mason never returned to the Dallas Cowboys after his knee injury, he was traded during the off-season to the Miami Dolphins. While Mason was happy to be back in Miami, he'd rather be on a winning team.
Mason stares at the jersey hanging in his locker and drops his head. The Omnipotent Outside linebacker, takes a moment for reflection and deep thought. The Titan of tackles for loss, thinks about why he had joined the NFL, and trained so hard to come back from injury. It wasn't for the money, the fame, and the women, and while those were benefits, he enjoyed they were all secondary to becoming a better player than his father.
The Sultan of Swole had shattered his father's high school records, but in doing so led the team coached by his father to three straight state championships. In college, the impressive play of the President of Pump had earned his father a strength and conditioning coaching position with Florida State. Mason's hand gripped tighter around the leather handle of his Louie V bag as he thought about how every step forward only served to grow his father’s legacy.
The Mecca of Manhood knew what he had to do. He had to become a star that shined so bright he would transcend the game and become a pop culture icon, like a Michael Strahan or a Terry Bradshaw. If The Marvelous One had to drag the Miami Dolphins along to accomplish this, then so be it.
*The Abdominal Adonis drops his bag and as his hand reaches for his jersey the screen cuts to some commercial about yogurt that makes you poop and some low-calorie beer that tastes like piss. The 30 for 30 returns to The Dolphins coming onto the field for practice. *
Mason lags behind the group of linebackers, keeping the promise he had made to himself when laying in his hospital to play only for himself and keep his "teammates" at arm’s length. As the players jog onto the field they are greeted by fans and members of the press. The Bod God with cheekbones higher than Snoop Dogg on April twentieth doesn't want to hide his beautiful face, so he keeps his helmet off as he walks onto the field.
Then the Mecca of Manhood sees something he hadn't expected, his father. Andrew Mason stands talking to head coach Tony Sparano. The Marvelous One had not seen his father since his injury, he had not even received a phone call, but Andrew Mason had found time to speak with The Sultan of Swole's doctors, physical therapist, trainer, and of course his agent.
The Big Natty Daddy didn't acknowledge his father as he walked by him, instead, he pulled his helmet on to ignore him. But even with the Riddell helmet muffling the sounds of the outside world The Marvelous One can hear his father saying to Coach Sparano, "Delivered as promised. I told you my boy would come to camp in the best shape of his life. Now, let's talk about what else I can do for your team.".
The Lord of Lats could feel his anger rising. His father once more attempting to piggyback off of his hard work and success. The President of Pump would channel this anger in practice, putting on an incredibly impressive display of athleticism that few could match even in the NFL. The Gridiron G.OA.T knew he was impressing everyone, but the better he played, the more pats on the back his father got. The Marvelous One was distracted by his father, and the thought that Andrew Martin may soon have a coaching job with the Dolphins. This moment of distraction would cost him dearly, as the Center charged up the field and blindsided Mason.
Triple M instantly felt the burning pain in his surgically repaired knee and feared the worst. The Mecca of Manhood went down hard and instantly began clutching at his knee, and to his surprise, Andrew Martin is the first person to his side. Andrew grabs his son and begins helping him up, but as he does quietly say’s, “don’t you embarrass me and blow my shot at this job”.
The Bod God shoves his father back and knocks him to the ground. Everyone stops and begins to stare at the two of them. The Titan of Tenacity pulls his helmet off and stares at his father as he begins getting up.
Cheap shot on an old man, some tough guy you are. Still hit like a b*tch too, I see. It’s alright though, I’ll get you right. I’ll get you strong, and get you focused.
Andrew stands to his feet and turns to face his son, and what happened next would change the course of The Marvelous One’s life forever. The Big Natty Daddy swung his helmet as if it were a bat, and slammed it across the side of his father’s face. Andrew Mason falls to the ground, unconscious, profusely bleeding, and with fewer teeth than he started the day with.
The Mecca of Manhood would be arrested for assault, released by the Dolphins, and would never play another down in the NFL again.
*The scene fades from the actor portraying The Marvelous one to the real-life Marvelous One that no one could ever compare to, and SVP sitting in a blacked-out studio with a simple, but elegant ESPN logo behind them. SVP has a smirk on his face, but The Pope of Pecks iis seething in anger. *
Mr. Mason, some may say you have developed a history of snapping, and bouts of anger. We just saw what you did to your father, add that in with what you did to Paco on the last episode of dark, and many other assaults that were only legal due to them being in the confines of the world of professional wrestling, and many would say you have a problem with violence.
*The King of Calves tightly grips the wooden arm rest of the chair he sits in. His body leans forward as he scoots to the edge of the seat. The Mecca of Manhoods body language is clearly imposing his dominance over SVP, who leans back further into his own chair. *
I don’t have a problem with anger, I have a problem with people disrespecting me. Cholo the Chomo has disrespected me, as did his adopted Papi, and they both paid a price. Paco paid in flesh, and Cholo paid in humiliation. And as satisfying as it was to keep Cholo from winning that Television title, I’m going to take even more pleasure in lifting his skinny-fat body over my head and throwing him not only out of the ring, but out of the building at the West Coast rumble.
I’m not done with Cholo yet, but once I bury his hopes and dreams of winning that WGWF World championship, but eliminating him, then I’ll be done with him. I’ll be done with him because I will be the world champion and at the top of the WGWF mountain while he’s still down at the bottom fighting for scraps with the likes of Triston Slater and John Cable. I am the Mecca of Manhood, while people like Cholo, Max Daemon, and Mike Angelo or just Beta Boys trying to live in a mans world.
I’m not done with Cholo yet, but once I bury his hopes and dreams of winning that WGWF World championship, but eliminating him, then I’ll be done with him. I’ll be done with him because I will be the world champion and at the top of the WGWF mountain while he’s still down at the bottom fighting for scraps with the likes of Triston Slater and John Cable. I am the Mecca of Manhood, while people like Cholo, Max Daemon, and Mike Angelo or just Beta Boys trying to live in a mans world.
*The Master of Masculinity leans back in his chair, feeling quite confident in himself and his answer. SVP feels some of the fear subside and pressure released as he sits up a bit and dares to ask another question. *
You keep talking about this Rumble, and about people disrespecting you. So, how do you feel when your name isn’t in the conversation for people most likely to win this rumble? Names like Fed Debonair, Mark Flynn, Peter Vaughn, and even some mystery entrants are getting a ton of press, meanwhile no one has even mentioned Mike Mason as the potential winner.
*The Numen of Nutrition sits back up, once more on the edge of his seat, and once more leaning into SVP. SVP once more slumps back in his chair, regretting asking the question, and once more quivering in fear. *
It fuels me, it has me training harder than I have ever trained for a match in this sport. I’d say I’m every bit as good as those names you listed off, or just as good as anyone else in the rumble, but that would be a bold faced lie. No, I’m not as good as them, I’m much, much better than them, much much better than everyone else in this rumble, and in WGWF as a whole. To say I have a chip on my shoulder would be an understatement. I got a whole tectonic plate on my shoulders, and I’m going to shake WGWF down to its very foundation.
After this West Coast Rumble, there will be no more talk about your Peter Vaughns, Mac Banes, and Fred Deboniars. No one will give a rats ass about them. No one will talk about CCPE, or James Raven, or Samantha Voxx and all her STDS. No one will talk about the F’N in Max F’N Daemon standing for “fingering butt holes”. No one will be talking about WGWF walking with Alias, and no one will give a crap about who the other mystery entrans were. There are only two things that people will be talking about after the West Coast Rumble.
One, is the Velvet Rabbit flooding from all the strippers WAP, when I make them audibly ovulate. And the other, the thing that will flood the internet, fuel the dirt sheets, and make all the marks heads explode, is when The Mecca of Manhood, the Marvelous One himself, Marvelous Mike Mason wins that rumble and becomes the WGWF World champion.
After this West Coast Rumble, there will be no more talk about your Peter Vaughns, Mac Banes, and Fred Deboniars. No one will give a rats ass about them. No one will talk about CCPE, or James Raven, or Samantha Voxx and all her STDS. No one will talk about the F’N in Max F’N Daemon standing for “fingering butt holes”. No one will be talking about WGWF walking with Alias, and no one will give a crap about who the other mystery entrans were. There are only two things that people will be talking about after the West Coast Rumble.
One, is the Velvet Rabbit flooding from all the strippers WAP, when I make them audibly ovulate. And the other, the thing that will flood the internet, fuel the dirt sheets, and make all the marks heads explode, is when The Mecca of Manhood, the Marvelous One himself, Marvelous Mike Mason wins that rumble and becomes the WGWF World champion.
*The Allah of Aesthetics stans from his chair, pulls his microphone off, and throws it down. The Big Natty Daddy walks off set, leaving SVP stunned as the scene fades to a commercial break about some financial pyramid scheme that you dumb schmucks will probably fall for.
Climax. *