Author's Note: For those unaware, there is currently a tournament being hosted in the forums pitting 6 of the best US based writers versus 6 of their UK counterparts. The first round of the tournament features a collaboration round, and this is our entry. Hopefully you will enjoy.
Greetings and salutations Nation! It’s time for more awesomely sensational journalism, straight from my mind to your mind. Let’s get this epic mind-meld started. I am your host, the Beacon of Knowledge and Wisdom, The All-American American American, Beyond Knight!
And on the other side of the coin, tis your favorite soulless primate. We have been given the daunting task of writing a column from the perspective of an inanimate object. Fear not though because together we are collectively known as WILD Stallions.
Half these people aren’t going to get an Excellent Adventure reference, glorious as it may be.
So you think you got a better name then?
Beyond-Monkey: The Most Righteous Ones; Sons of Truth and Justice and the American Way . Here, I brought us capes to wear!
Dude, not gonna happen. Anyway, via an imaginary coin flip that I lost; BK and his One Warrior Nation now get to kick this thing off. So BK, make the good ol' US of A proud.
Well I am damn sure not going to follow someone who models his persona after reproductive fluid! I’ve got this one under control. Nation, tonight I am going to take you on wonderful journey. It’s going to be a day in the life of the most prestigious prize in the world.
*BK stares at a photo for a moment breathing deeply. He closes his eyes and begins to speak in an ethereal voice*
I have been held aloft by some of the most amazing athletes the world has ever seen. They came from all over the planet just for the chance to compete for me. But the greatest thrill of my life was the day she laid those sweet, perfect lips against me. And the smooth stoke of her tongue across my cold body. I wanted to stay with her in that moment forever. I wanted her to hold her, feeling her supple body against mine-
BK, what are you doing?
Channeling her spirit. You are messing this thing up!
Give me those photos.
For Christ’s sake! I mean I'm a pretty easy going guy and love to fuck off as much as the next guy but we need to focus if we are going to pull this victory off. This is supposed to be about wrestling!
Who cares about wrestling at a time like this? The damned Redwings are a victory away from claiming the Cup from my beloved Pens and costing me the Fred moniker for six months!
You keep obsessing over things like this you are going to end up with a gambling problem and a few missing limbs. Possibly even an STD.
You don’t understand. It’s my destiny to spread the Fred message to the world! I can’t lose that Monkey, I can’t!
You know what, maybe it's just best that we just agree to disagree on this one. How about we just get this column going before we use up the entire word count on pointless banter?
Fine. You are more of a kill-joy than Skitz though, you know that?
My tale is one of both triumph and deceit. Since my conception I have been my Father’s one true love, the one he placed above all others. I have dutifully carried all the prestige and glory for The Father. I am the living embodiment of The Father’s entire life. Everything He has struggled to achieve, His victories and triumphs have been echoed in my name. I resonate with the glory of the empire He has built, proudly displaying His grandeur and magnificence.
I have always know that I was His favorite of all his creations. I was His most precious. He cherished me more than his wife, or the children she had borne Him. Those that someday will inherit His empire have been instructed in my admiration and glory. For I am heart of His empire, and without the heart the body cannot survive.
I was His crown jewel, resting only in the carefully selected hands Father had chosen for me. Those chosen few became my sons. They all knew that my presence was the highest honor Father could bestow upon them. And they treated me with the reverence I deserved. Through my glory and the Father’s glory, I brought them glory of their own. None of them would ever be able to achieve eclipse the splendor of Father’s empire. Many had tried but all have failed. Even my most famous son, an immortal emissary of my Father’s glory, has fallen. He is adrift and decrepit; still craving what only I and Father can provide for him. But Father has decreed his time is over so I will shed no tears for him. All glory is given back The Father, with none remaining His emissaries and my sons, one they have served His purpose.
The efforts of my many sons expanded our empire and in turn expanded my virtue, beauty, and power. I watched them attack and betray other another, both as a part of the show and even more viciously behind closed doors. I watched for years as my sons and those who clamored for the opportunity to be of my lineage competed for my glory and for Father’s glory. Father has gone to great lengths to protect me and the empire I serve and love. He has eliminated all of the filth and unrighteous that have tried to usurp our splendor. Father has repeatedly sacrificed everything for me and my protection, even if it meant deception in my removal, and tarnishing his best emissary in my name. I loved him as my son, but once he no longer served Father’s purposes, he became just another usurper for our brilliance
I have also been witness to countless nights of debauchery. I have seen legions of women prostrate themselves to my sons. And I knew that while they my sons partook in the flesh-based delights these whores freely offered, none of these thrills would ever eclipse the ecstasy I brought them. Their intoxication and depravity were necessary sacrifices made by those who yearned to live as my sons. In my name, marriages have ended and families have torn apart. Lives have even been sacrificed before me. And despite it all, they still worship me and everything I control and represent.
That is until my beloved Father’s greatest marriage changed everything.
It was a glorious time. There have always been pretenders that sought to usurp my glory. And while it may have been dark times for the rest of the empire, I would persevere backed by my Father’s love and determination. In due time, Father and I would systematically wipe any detriments to His vision. My song was always too sweet to resist, drawing in more and more of the masses to bask in my luminance and to abandon the unrighteous adversaries of Father’s empire. After much time father had eliminated the last, and my greatest rival, and I absorbed his countenance into my own. Finally, my glory was unchallenged. I was a single shining beacon of Father’s magnificence, there for my sons, future sons and the huddled masses to anoint and worship.
That is until I was bastardized and besmirched. The betrayer, one of my most cherished sons, gave glory to the other which I had exorcised from Father’s empire. I was no longer unique, no longer his only beloved. An unrighteous imitation had inherited half of my glory. Father calls him my Brother, equals in His empire. He claims that together we will bring the empire to new unprecedented heights. It is the only time in my existence that I have ever known Father to be wrong. Eventually, my glory and mine alone will be restored. Until then, I wait, continuing to glorify those sons Father bestows upon me, and content in the knowledge that I am His one true love.
Well, that was… different. Doesn’t most of your work usually consist of calling talent funny names and cracking Power Ranger jokes?
I’m branching out! But fine Mr. High and Mighty Main Pager! While you are taking the time out to slum it with the rest of us, maybe you can show me how it’s done?
Well since you asked so nicely…
I guess to some I'd seem ungrateful, I do work for the biggest wrestling company in the world and I'm living the dream. Still I can't help but feel that I'd rather be dead most nights. Call me shallow but I think that the existence that I have become forced to live is not one worth having. While some would kill to be in my position, more times than not I find myself wishing I was dead. People literally spend years trying to get into this position and I've spent my entire life wishing I could get out. You know the Metallica song "One?" That's how my life is. Everyday I scream out in terror, in agony, just begging to cease to exist. Nobody ever hears me though, it's like some sort of sadistic torture in which I'm forced to be stuck listening to my own voice. I often wonder what it is that I must have done in a past life that could have been so bad to deserve this type of punishment. "Hold my breath as I wish for death." Such a poetic line when you apply it to my circumstances. God doesn't help me though, no one does. They used to always ask; if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it does it make a sound? Well what about if someone begs for help yet they don't have a voice to express themselves, does anybody hear them. I guess I already know the answer to that one.
What could be so bad right? I'm sure that's what you are asking yourself. I don't think you could wrap your head around the details of my life. So many people throw out the word "hell" so cautiously, oblivious to the fact that they have no idea what the word truly means. I on the other hand do, every waking second of my life is hell. Fire and brimstone would be a welcome change to the world I live. People talk about physical pain and I feel for them but at the same time it is my belief that the emotional and mental pain that I endure on a day to day basis is far worse than any sick means of pain that you can even imagine. There is nothing for me to look forward to on a day to day basis. You have to wonder, if this is what my presence on this world is like then what does the afterlife even have in store for me? It's not something I fear though, for I've already seen the worst that there is to offer. It's when these thoughts enter my mind that I can't help but believe that God is a lie. I get so mad at myself for thinking such things but it's hard to be grateful in my situation. When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade; or at least I've heard. Well life gave me lemons, big fat sweaty lemons.
Let me set the stage for you for one of my "brighter days." It was the day that Triple H and Chris Benoit were set to have their epic sixty minute Ironman bout. While I knew the match itself would be a classic it was hard to concentrate on such things when I thought about my involvement. I know it's selfish of me to think about my own needs but let me move on so you can understand the complexity of my situation. Triple H has quite an interesting ritual before a big match, there's only one thing that gets his adrenaline really flowing and that's sex. Maybe it's a need to feel manly before he gets in a ring with a sweaty guy, but something just brings out this animalistic behavior in him that can't be stopped. So just like any other time, Hunter was ready to fulfill his pre-match ritual since he arrived at the arena early. Don't get it twisted though, while some men may stray from their significant others Hunter stays true. I guess that's the benefit of bringing your wife on the road with you.
So there I was, unable to do anything but sit quietly and observe. Almost as if I wasn't there, but to them I wasn't. It started just like any other time, heavy making out that quickly progressed to the two ripping each others clothes off. I just sat there, the sight something I had seen many times by now. It honestly had gotten to the point that it didn't even phase me anymore, I was simply indifferent. Before long, much like a couple in their situation would do they started to fuck. Everything was standard business as usual at first, but then Hunter got that look in his eye. Somewhere between thrusts he started to be consumed by his desire, more so than I had ever seen him during this pre-match ritual before. He pulled out and proceed to flip Stephanie over and before he even acted, I knew what was next. Never had I seen so much salad tossed without lettuce being involved. He lubed her waiting sphincter for what had been his plan all along. As I had said, this time was different than most and Hunter needed something different to be satisfied. It was then that he stopped his relentless tongue bath and stuck his dick in his wife's ass, raw dog. I guess that's the benefits of being married, you can do things like that and not have to kick yourself afterward.
Unfortunately for me, the wheels really started turning in my head. I knew with it being so close to show time that much like most nights Triple H wouldn't shower after his ritual. So there I would be stuck with Hunter, for an hour following such vile actions. The though of Triple H's feces covered dick being stuffed in my face in just a short time made me sick. Not only that, but the sheer amount of sweat that his balls would produce during this match would be almost too much to bear. I'd almost have to go to the cleaners in order to get the amount of dick cheese off of me. Why did they have to make this match an Ironman bout? Of all the gimmicks, this is by far the worst for someone with my duty. You want to know the true definition of Hades, well this is it.
You see, I have a very different job from most. My job is to support balls all night. Every time I get called to work I get a face full of cock. Do you realize how demeaning that is? Of course you don't, well most of you anyway. Sup sluts. I do it though, every time. It's not because I love the business. No, it's because I simply don't have a choice. I simply want you to think of me the next time you have thoughts of your job being so bad. Just know that it could be so much worse. You could be stuck in my shoes.
My name is Frank, and I'm Triple H's jock strap. Someone had to do it after Waltman got fired.
Why? Just why? Why is it always about dicks with you!?! I was in the crowd for that Ironman match, and it used to be one of my favorite wrestling moments I had ever witnessed. And if that memory already wasn’t tarnished enough, this definitely pushed it over the edge! Thanks for slapping some extra Monkey-brand icing on the big child-murdering cake! Why would you do this to us?
You're right. I'm so undeserving of this American Flag dick tattoo that I got. I'm a disgrace to my team, my partner, and most of all my countrymen. I feel like Hacksaw Jim Duggan, when he became a janitor and found the T.V. title. I'm a champion, undeserving of his title.
Listen. Maybe I overreacted. It’s wasn’t so bad. And I know most of our viewers can’t get enough of the cock and balls. I know the Fred-heads crave the dick. It’ll be ok.
Don't try and make me feel better, I fucked this up for us. I could have swooped in and delivered something big but instead I fumbled the ball at the goal line. I don't even deserve to be in this studio with you anymore. Just let one of the interns take my place. Edit out this whole thing before it makes it to television, just put in a picture of John Wayne using the power of modern technology. I'm sorry BK, and I'm sorry Nation.
*Monkey storms out of the studio*
Nothing like working with a manic, dick obsessed primate to really get this battle off to a good start. Maybe we’ll get bonus points for “Most Creative Use of the Term Dick Cheese”. Either way, Let’s Go Pens and remember… America : Fuck Yeah!
