By: Bobby Bourbon
Writing Prompt: Yes
Date: 12th Dec 2021
Listen up, shitstain.
Bobby flashes a coy smile.
I know that’s a movie quote, but it fits. So, word has gotten around that you’re the first body I wreck in New York. Well, not the first, I’ve wrecked bodies from Brooklyn to Buffalo, but you’re the first one that’s going to eat shit courtesy of yours truly in FIGHT, a promotion so hot it doesn’t leave New York. I could laud myself about everywhere I’ve fought, shit, I could laud myself about everywhere I’ve won. The Arctic Circle, Antarctica, the Equator, and pick a fucking time zone. Thing is, I love me some New York. It’s a familial thing, pardon my southern accent, but my old man was straight out of Bay Ridge, my picture was on the wall of Bay Ridge Pizza on 5th Avenue, I’ve been from Bensonhurst to Coney Island, chilled with the hip crowd in Williamsburg until it was time to get loud in DUMBO, so here I am, repping Brooklyn with a foreign accent. Alice, pay fucking heed, I’m not coming for just any fucking match, I’m coming to set a foothold as a prince who’s come to claim his throne. Now what kind of throne can I claim? A thousand, I could conquer a million more. You? You were the OCW Champion. I was a champion there too, I got fucked over by a bullshit referee for selling out Wembley when the show was in a smaller venue in London. You? You just got fired.
I’m your future endeavor, and it don’t gotta be a long future. No ma’am. One, two, three, and it’s over. That fucking fast. If you don’t believe me, well, shit, I gotta come clean. I have a chip on my shoulder, you see. In FIGHT, there are some folks who have some overinflated egos about their place in this world because some dipshit fanbase. Alice, make no doubt about it, I do this for me, because I am carving my place in this world, not for the fans, and that can piss off whoever wants to feel pissed. I don’t comprimise, I don’t cooperate, I don’t concede myself to the whims of some dopey popularity contest. As such, let me expatiate for a moment on the top 100 of the wrestling world as suggested by Mikey Unlikely, and fuck that guy, I get my news from Denzel Porter, who ranked me way higher.
Bobby stands up straight.
That’s Denzel Motherfucking Porter. Say shit about him and I’ll rip your nuts off and feed them to you.
Bobby cracks his massive neck and squints at the camera. We’re not sure if he’s trying to look tough or he forgot his glasses and he’s trying to read what he wrote for the teleprompter.
For starters, we have James Raven, a dude I pinned, in the top ten, and also a member of the FIGHT roster. Welp, Jimbo had the wherewithal to be too scared to be like “Yo, I fought Bourbon before, this will be a huge match” and stepped the fuck aside when he saw me coming, like he saw the headlight of a freight train. Following that, and like a tail, he follows wherever Raven goes, we have Shawn Warstein, who I Bobbybombed and pinned last summer. He don’t want vengeance, he don’t want a rematch, he wants me to be as far as possible from where he performs so he can have a god damned career, because as long as he’s been doing this, I’ve been doing it better. And those, my dear, are just the names of the asses everyone seems to have on their breath from too much time wasted kissing them. You? You’re not even worth a pucker and nobody thinks your farts are anywhere near as aromatic. Alice, come time for you to come on down, you’re going down, like a drunken prom date. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ve gotta go grab a big ole’ bottle of Advil for my secret Santa, because as you’re gonna learn, when I come around, business picks up, and my business is bringing the pain.