- Messages
- 1,139
- Points
- 113
We open to see Vizzy leaned against the guard rail of the balcony of his hotel. Viz let go a puff of his black and mild as he took in the Wisconsin winter air.
“You smell that?”
Visual Prophet took a big inhale of the cold, frigid air.
“That, stench in the air...for real...take-take a good whiff.”
Vis wore a Nike tech jogging suit, a pair of the newly released Air Jordan 11 concord sneakers, and laughed at what he smelt.
“Fear. Insecurity. Uncertainty. Viz smell and feel the tension in the air. For a man of such accomplishments and so much confidence you go on and on and continue to talk...about nothing, really! You said your piece but let Viz guess...that butch you call a woman got inside your ear. She sees what I see. She felt what I said. She sees the difference between your justified but shaken confidence and my unbridled truth. I’m assuming this all of course...”
Viz turned to the camera, acknowledging the fourth wall per se.
“But let’s say my assumptions are correct, shall we?”
Turning back off to the distance, Prophet continued.
“You said everything you needed to say in that cute interview of yours. The one where you threatened a woman that her head would get ripped of for talking out of line. The one where you sat smug as fuck as if you believed you had this shit in the bag. Then you found yourself in the gym. What woke you up out the blue to get in more reps? Was it the kinda lesbian looking broad bodyguard? Or was it my words haunting you? Expectations you normally have being subverted? You understood that yeah in the grand scheme of things, this is just ONE match. But this loss will be your greatest loss! You realized Viz wasn’t like anyone else you faced truthfully. I could give a fuck about some nobody named Endeavor...you deep down know that this ain’t the same thing. You changed plans, I can tell. As if you could have treated me like Woogie or landerson. I told you, though the fans love them, it’s different for me. You claimed I need the fans, and partly it’s true in the grand scheme of things...but when it comes down to me and you between those ropes, all I need is myself. They are the bonus as witnesses to this hate crime Viz will commit! You have coaches, sparring partners, whatever the fuck else a lil’ fuck like you needed to overcome the huge obstacles you’ve had to face. You’re the Ivan Drago in this EAW shit! Gifted, talented, overly confident, stick up, robot-like, pampered, spoiled, lil’ fuck. Viz is Rocky Balboa...this uppercut is going to shatter all of that momentum you have. Not the momentum you have on Voltage, however. That’s already established. But the momentum in your head? The thing that makes you believe everything you talk about as gospel?”
Viz shook his head as if he was disappointed at Noah personally.
“I’ve come to be the consequence to your confidence. Viz is gonna’ confiscate your self worth! This is going to be difficult for you to adjust to after the fact, Noah. Your bitch Evelyn already sounds uncomfortable if what I think is happening true! She should be uncomfortable, nah’mean. This is about to be a beheading!”
Viz adjusted and faced the lens fully now.
“What made you keep goin’? Huh? You said your piece and even looked like you believed in your own hype, Noah.”
A quick puff from the cigarilllo before saving and putting it out.
“Your girl probably gave you a stern talking to, didnt she? Is she your coach or your mom? I don’t know...don’t care neither!”
A shoulder shrug led Viz to his next point.
“It was just me and my bottle but that botttle is gone now, bruh. I’m most def’ sober and fixin’ to shock the world when the bell rings at Voltage and I refuse to ramble about on the same shit I already spoke on earlier this week, nah’mean. “
“I just want you to start thinking about the best case scenario. Win lose or draw you still are mr cash in the vault. You still got that 7 foot coach mom lover by your side you brush your hair and wipe the excess spit from your face after you do that stupid entrance you like to do. You still get to ride Delta Platinum first class with comfort seating and your favorite Marvel movies playing for free as you and those lil’ fuckin’ arms struggle to open the bag of gluten free crackers that lil’ fucks like you eat.”
Vizzy looked to the sky, as if a plane would fly by at that instance. None did.
“You still get to be the Assault Riffle on EAW. I’m the sniper rifle because I don’t need hundreds of shots to put a man down, Noah. I need just one. This second shot is just for fun, feel me?”
“Talkin’ bout my game plan...it’s not a game plan because this ain’t a game for me, you lil’ entitled fuck! I’m not playin’ with you; Viz ain’t came here to play with you hoes! You game of thrones fan boy; Viz gone burn down House Reigner with one match! Just one! I’m gonna’ take the House Reigner flag and wipe Viz’s ass with it after I wipe YOUR ring with YOUR face, Noah!
“That fear is in your voice, I heard it. This ain’t Impact with his arthritis hands throwing punches. This is about to be medieval what I do to you. Old school, old fashion, non stop beating!”
A sigh of relief appeared from Vizzy. Like Thanos at the end of Infinity War.
“Then, you can go back to schedule Mr Cash in the Vault! You can go back to trying to be this unstoppable lil’ short fuckin’ Napoleon complex having in ring soldier with your imaginary machine guns and assault riffles. Have you ever held an assault rifle? You ever air out the block with any gun? You ever felt the weight of a firearm, Noah? I used to play with guns bigger than you back in my day. I know a guy that can get one to you for real! I’m good in every hood if you should need one! Shit, you may need a real assault rifle fucking with me! Or do you want to admit that shitty nickname was something you saw while playing call of duty when you weren’t in some wrestling laboratory learning how to do the perfect dropkick? Fuckin’ nerd...”
Viz brought both hands together as if he was literally begging to be dropkicked.
“Dropkick me, please! Viz wants to see you jump that fuckin’ high! I’m not moving for no dropkicks, pussy, you gotta’ hit me!”
Smacking his chest, the thud sound was like a battering ram.
“You said you had your eye on Bowie Grey...talked about expansion or some other gay shit. You making a boring ass group? Because I’ll beat Bowie Grey ass again if he wastes his talents siding with a boring, whiny fuck like you. Yeah, the pc is for young talents to show their worth. I’ve seen first hand that Bowie Grey has talent. Bowie also has character! You are nothing but a wins and losses machine! That’s why when you lose to Viz at Voltage; I will own the one thing you can’t hide. You can hide your fear and insecurity from these people but you can’t hide it from the people who see it clear as day. Your bitch sees it. So does Viz!”
Laughter fled from Visual Prophet’s mouth.
“You will be world champion one day, Noah! Ha! You will be in the hall of fame, too! I can’t stop that nor would Viz want to. A career this young yet so accomplished will be recognized. But it won’t be remembered quite the same when fans get to go on EAW demand and replay over and over and over again the time the wrestling assault rifle, soon to be world champion, future hall of famer, wrestling nerd prodigy, got pinned by a drunk, old man from the “performance center” known as Battleground!”
“An upset? The only one that will be upset is you Noah. One opportunity, one match, one loss left on your beautiful record!”
Vizzy winked in to the camera.
“Tell yo’ bitch Evelyn I’ll be in room 112, bring four friends...I got a bottle of henny on ice to celebrate this shit with. Cheers, you lil’ fuck!”
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