“Oh look.. a Loser-saurus.”
By: Miss Michelle
Writing Prompt: No
Date: 14th Nov 2021
“Hi, you’ve reached the biggest loser in all of professional wrestling..”
She tapped the screen of her phone to check and make sure she called who she thought she called. She didn’t know she was calling Johnny Stylez, but she couldn’t think of a bigger loser than him. The phone screen lit up and said P with a photo of Paul Montuori as well. She shrugged and listened as the voice message continued.
“..I couldn’t get to the phone because I suck at everything now. Don’t leave a message cuz I won’t call you back.”
She ended the call and shook her head. Grabbing the Starbucks cup from the counter, she headed out of the coffee shop and down the sidewalk. She used her free-hand to zip the zipper on her jacket as she tried to keep warm while walking towards her destination on this crisp, cold morning in New York. She then put her other hand onto the hot cup of coffee to warm them.
She sure did miss being on that cruise ship right about now. She definitely missed sitting out next to the pool in her bikini and the sun all day. This cold shit really is for the birds, ya know?
The cruise really was nice though. Not just sunbathing and day-drinking, but you know, the whole thing. She heard they raised a good bit of money for several different charities and luckily there was only one casualty – #RIPDRU.
The best part for her though? Retaining that beautiful Bronx Championship, just like she said she would. The littlest member of the blue man group really thought she had that match in the bag – she sure loved proving bitches wrong though. Jennie thought she had the match and the championship in the bag, but as always, Michelle came through and showed Jennie and the world that Jennie was not only a loser but a waste of a good nut.
She chuckled to herself as she sipped from the hot coffee cup. She shook her head as she continued to think about the whole thing..
“If I didn’t know any better, I would think that my beautiful Bronx Championship was the “clown” championship, you know the one that they give to someone to make them feel better about themselves? That one. The line up of people that have been given the opportunity is an everlasting long line of crap.
I know it can’t be that, though. Maybe it’s the “we feel bad for you” belt? You know where the big office heads feel sorry for someone because they suck so bad that they are like, “hey.. have a title shot that you can’t win.” I’m starting to see why they came up with this whole blood money thing though.. ya know, so people who otherwise would never be in the title picture can buy their way in.
No, I know what kind of championship it is. It is a most coveted belt, one that is worthy of the Queen. One so sought after that people are literally throwing money at me to get to it. It’s the one that the staff knows if they need to punish someone for some reason, that I’m the one to serve the best dish of it.
I literally laughed out-loud to myself the other day as I was scrolling through Twitter. I saw a tweet from Austin Ramsay and he was on his period or something and was rambling on about Todrick and his Manhattan Championship and how she has defended her belt the most. I understand that being a champion is new to the two of them, but really? She defends twice and she is out here begging for a gold star? I defend damn near every week – get on my level and then say something.”
She rolled her eyes, taking another sip from that cup and looking around, thinking to herself that this place better be fucking close.
“So, I beat Tara Fenix’s loser baby sister. Hopefully taught her to stay in her own damn lane and stick to fighting losers like Kasey and Betsy. Now, where do I find myself?” She let out a sigh. “Now I find myself wishing I was back on that damn boat facing the tiniest member of the blue man group instead of being on land and facing a grown ass man who thinks he’s a dinosaur.
I could stand here and go against everything I stand for, be just like everyone else who has faced Dave and pretend that he really is, as he sees himself, a dinosaur but that’s just not me. Do you know why?
Because I’m a grown ass woman and you are not a toddler, Dave.
You are not a dinosaur, I don’t give a shit what you believe in your tiny brain. You are just another useless, boring loser who is standing in my way.
See Dave, I play make believe with my son and with my nieces and nephews. The difference between you and them, while not much, seeing as you have the same size brain as them.. is that they know the difference between real and fake. And they have the common sense to separate the two.
Let me dumb it down for ya, Davey. You ready for this?
Dinosaurs aren’t wrestlers. Dinosaurs aren’t capable of being in a wrestling match. What are you going to do? Use your T-Rex arms to point at me? You can’t even jerk your lizard dick Dave, how the fuck are you gonna do a damn thing to me? Are you going to whip me with your tail? Ram me with your horns? Do you see how fucking stupid this sounds yet?
Of all the things you could have chosen to be, you choose a fucking dinosaur? There’s a reason why they went extinct and it’s because they couldn’t adapt, they couldn’t evolve and move on with the rest of the world. This championship belt will not be leaving this waist. I have come too far, beat too many challengers, to lose it all to a dorky little joke. The queen has spoken. Go hit up the Granger bitch to take care of your reptile pens Dave. It is far more realistic that your Jurassic ass will finally get some pussy than it is of you being the one to dethrone me. Sorry, not sorry.”
She is interrupted and startled as a car honking at another car nearly causes her to toss her coffee in the air. She takes a deep breath, calming herself and trying to fix her blood pressure and that’s when she realized that she was at P’s.
“What a fucking dump.” She sighs as she throws her trash to the side and adds to P’s literal garbage dump of a yard.
“I knew he couldn’t keep this place up..”
She shook her head and used her key to unlock the door and walk inside. Stepping over garbage and clothing, she heads towards the stairs and makes her way up. Five flights later, she walks into an empty room that used to be P’s bedroom.
Looking around and trying to figure out where the fuck all his furniture went, she sees P over in the corner of the room, face down into the hard wood floor and wouldn’t you know, for once he wasn’t naked. No, it was worse, he wore only the tiniest g-string she had ever seen in her life and it looked better snuggled into his plump little ass than anything you’d ever see on any of those hoes in NSQ.
“What has happened, baby girl?” His voice shook her to the core.
She turned around to discover her husband Brandon, standing in the doorway.
“BRANDON!?!?” She squeals, flying across the room and falling into his chest as he catches her and pulls her in tight.
She couldn’t believe it. Brandon was out, and had finally returned to her. Her eyes have filled with tears, her breath trembles. Brandon’s arms wrap around her tightly, and her eyes fall into gaze with his. “What took you so long?” She ceases.
“I’m sorry, Michelle.” His hands now taking her face.
She goes to speak, but he pulls her lips into his. At this moment, the horrible scene that surrounds them is muted. Fireworks are exploding and it has been a long time coming. Multiple kisses are exchanged, and tighter embraces are had. She puts her head against his chest, his calm heart beat reassuring and comforting for her. She looks up at him, and her eyes don’t leave his.
“We have to fix this honey. I don’t care what we have to do. But I promise you, we will fix this.” His hand gently taking her chin. “And I will never be leaving your side again.”
“You promise?” She asks. Her hopes have been given up before. Something was different this time however. Brandon was different this time.
“No matter what.” He replied as he kissed her on top of her head, and slowly moves her aside by her hips. “But right now..”
Brandon went over to his best friend, their best friend, and went to his knees at P’s side. He took P into his arms and pulled him up to where P’s back was against his chest. This stirs P, who is awake but not conscious. P’s eyes open half way as he leans back into his friends chest and looks up at him. He slaps Brandon softly. “Dub.. Dub..” P mutters as he passes back out.
She joined them on the floor, wrapping her arms around both of them from in front of Brandon. And this is where we leave the three of them, reunited at long last and it feels so good. So damn good.