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Post by Wade Mason on Jul 28, 2010 12:22:10 GMT -5
[Singles Match] AJ Adams Vs. Mystery Opponent
Limit: 2 Each Maximum First Deadline: Sunday August 1st at 11:59pm EST Final Deadline: Monday August 2nd at 11:59pm EST Kirsten Shelley: Alli Taylor had words with both of these competitors last week, we only know for sure what she talked to Burrows about. The southern belle had turned down an offer for a guaranteed TGW Title match at No Limits, not wanting to be apart of Taylor's personal attack on AJ Adams. Could she have recruited JCA for her own personal reasons?
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Post by Andy on Jul 29, 2010 20:30:11 GMT -5
The Past:
Recently I have been working up the courage to ask to leave this place. I am not sure if the real world is ready for me yet. I am not sure this planet ever will be though. I am tired of dealing with the people who aren’t my doctor. Most hope I find god, I know they all want me to start following god’s teachings. If I did that though wouldn’t I need to start going places on Sunday? I can’t do Sunday’s it’s my sleep time. Religion what’s the point, more insane people in that too. I have been struggling to get along all these days with only one meal. I stay up late just to get it. They don’t let me sleep late, they say its my fault I stayed up till 6 to be trazered awake at 8. Fuck this place, I will just have to show them I’m not insane that I am still a good person.
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Fuck this place
The Present:
Jester Chad Allen Another week down, another victory another disappointed JCA. Where is the promise of talent, they all make fun of me why because I used to be a clown. Now look at me, I come to the ring a man, nothing else, just a man with a passion for laughter even if it’s through hysteria. I am so sick and tired of you talentless nobodies. Now look, they beat me up in that ring, and Franchise bailed me out like any good tag partner would do. I still hit the Lethal Laughter I still got the pin over Maddox’s goon. Maddox is just lucky he wasn’t the legal man. Looks like Another W in my column and another L for the Maddox career. You want to be the Champion; wow…well I will definitely have to leave if you ever become champion. I am not going to waste my time when I know for a fact I could beat you. Why play these silly games with you Maddox. You saw me on Tuesday; you know I am the best at what I do. No one has been able to stop me. Fact is no one will, I will continue to destroy anyone in this market in till I am declared the best in the world. So do us all a favor take your kingdom elsewhere, before I bring on a gimmicked wrestler named Atilla the Hun and let him go all barbic ape shit on you. Just saying… don’t make fun of me when I tell you I’m a clown. See what happens Maddox? And no I am not one of those Juggalos. Those people that follow that crap are bunch of want to be’s trying to be as good as me. I am no Juggalo, sounds like a man full of Jello…I am not a part of the insane clown posse. I am just a clown, which just got humiliated one too many times and said enough is enough. Fuck Juggallos, Making a bad name for me.
Well now look at what needs to happen, another wrestler looking to become the top of the food chain. Listen Natalie, I know not to underestimate you. I mean I am going to estimate you, but I am not going to treat you any different then I would a man in the ring because well that sexist. I know you are fighting for women everywhere, when you fight a man in the ring. Now you have defeated a couple of people around here, starting to get some footing good for you. Really good for you, I am going to stop this win streak though. You the southern bell, the obviously to goody two shoes too beat up Adams for some extra cash. I mean you were all ready in a match with the poor shmuck, should of just broken him in half ended he so called career. I mean come on, I beat the guy in about 3 minutes. It’s not that hard, lock in a submission and break his arm if he doesn’t tap. Its fine though, I know you got to keep up that good girl exterior so parents can say Be like Ms. Borrows everyone! She is pretty, and can beat up the boys. Hahahaha.
Problem is we are going to take those children’s two favorite things in the world and place them in the ring together. A Role Model, and a clown. Their hero and their entertainer. Their Gladiator and their Jester.
Jester Chad Allen Winks at the camera.
Doesn’t it sound fun to finally let this fight happen, how come on make-a-wish it’s always a celebrity coming in to sign autographs and hang out with the children for a day. How come it’s never the clowns bringing enjoyment to them; bring them a smile. That is a wish all on its own. I know, I know most of them wish not to die. Oi fucking children, are all to fucked up to realize their heroes are nothing more than pathetic wash ups, who are probably drug abusing crack whores. So what are you going to do huh?
I understand that on Tuesday, you are just going to wrestle wrestle wrestle, no other motives but to wrestle your little heart out. You got to do it all for your adoring fans, 6 year old sally, and 16 year old Trevor, Who week after week brings out that sign that says Natalie will you marry me? Every week you choose to ignore it, you would never marry a guy like Trevor to young right? I mean come on, you wrestle for those with simple minds. Those people who are intelligent know not to watch you. They know that you are just like all the other female stars of our time.
And what’s with singing all these praises to your next victims. “I want to wrestle you at your best, I love challenges because I love to overcome them” blah blah blah! Come on Girl!? What is this shit? You sing the praises a of a man who can barley protect himself. He is worse than a one legged man in a ass kicking contest, and you talk to him as if he was this unsung hero of our time. Listen Ms. Burrows, I know you got to please the fans, but you don’t have to try to please the other wrestlers here. They can buy a hooker for 2.34 and be pleased that way.
Okay okay I know the hooker joke was a little too much. I shouldn’t put a lady of your caliber on the hooker status. I mean obiviously to me you can wrestle. The last 2 weeks you have come out of the ring with victories the same as I. Frankly as it stands right now, one of us is going to finally get a blemish on our records here at TGW. I know it’s quite sad that it ends up this way. You would think, lets throw JCA! And Burrows in a match since they are the only two with wins around here. Let’s put them in world title match. I mean it would just make sense. It should be ours anyway instead everyone talks about how Franchise and Maddox will be top contenders for TGW belt. I am like come on, I have now beaten Franchise. I have defeated AJ Adams, I have Defeated Americas Most Hated, all of them have been a pretty easy road. Now I am up against the one person that I can say has beaten them as well. Now I might finally! Get the competition I deserve. In the long run though are you really worth it? Are you worth the effort to even show up? Are you good enough to compete on my level?
I have lived in my own personal pirison as of late. I keep hoping my journey takes me to where I need to go for the real fight for my life. Everyone jokes that they are going to wrestle a clown, then they get beat by one. Then there is no laughing matter anymore is there? This clown is not one to fuck with, and that’s what everyone is realizing. My destiny is to destroy everyone in my way, in till I reach my goal of someone who can finally keep up with me. Week after Week Ms. Taylor throws me another wrestler to beat around. Her and I had a nice chat about what it takes to make it here in TGW. She says most of the other talent don’t realize how fast I am coming up out of the wood work. That no one else has noticed that I am the true championship material. That’s why I will win the TGW belt, and I will lead this company into its new revolution. I know everyone keeps talking about getting the TGW belt, and then going off to win the NWA. They need to get these dreams out of their mind, because that’s all it is. A dream, a dream that is make-believe. You all will never even to get feel the gold unless it’s cracking your skull open.
Natalie, Natalie, Natalie, I can only hope that you don’t take this lost on Tuesday to hard. I know a lot of the men around here have been saying yo girl what’s your number?! Let’s go get some Mother fucking fish and chips sometime! Little do they know out of all the people here, I got you number this Tuesday, I have it bad. This isn’t going to be like any other match in your lifetime. This isn’t a man trying to get a little touch of your boobs, or a tap of your ass. This is a man who is going to come and treat you like all the other victims. I am going to hit you with Lethal Laughter. I am going to break in you half, make your children’s children cry when they ask “how did grandma became so ugly? She used to be so beautiful, now she look like a cheese grater made of skin” Yes my whole goal in this match is to fuck you up. No I am not doing because Ms. Taylor asked me, or have a thing against women. I am doing this because I think people disrespect you when they say Ooo I have to wrestle a woman this week. This should be cake this should be real easy, maybe I will toss her around grab her ass etc. I am doing this because I have same problem week after week, people say ooo no I have to wrestle a clown, I have to honk his nose, step on his big shoes, and grab his ass….I mean uh beat his ass…uh…well kick his ass YEAH! See what I mean? I have break you, fuck you up, destroy you, so People start taking clowns like me seriously. Just like you have to beat me to once again prove that women like you should be taken as serious competitors. See we both have things to prove, we are very similar in that sense. Difference is I don’t think you have what it takes to beat me. Anyone else in this company sure, I could put you as number 2 in the company. I don’t think you have the right mind set to take on a freak like me.
Women like you avoid freaks like me, why? Well come on… no one wants to hang out with the “creeper”….OO look at him doesn’t he look like he’s on drugs or something? I mean mother fucking Eh!? Right? You want those Fabio looking dudes, long ass hair flowing in the wind on an old school pirate ship, after he saved you from time traveling terrorist. Right?! Well this freak, this clown, this man doesn’t care a thing for you either.
All right dwell on that for a minute, talk with friends family on that. I will come back to you. I want to go back to another problem of TGW. Chris Maddox, such a disappointment that you believe that TGW championship material. I thought here is a guy who might be able to hold his own, but then you let the likes of me and Franchise beat you. Hell you let franchise manhandle you…now as pervious stated in a brilliant voice over done by the friends of Franchise, I love being manhandled by franchise, but dude you let him do the A game stomp or whatever that shit is...like wow…didn’t think anyone would lay there that long, but hey cool. I think you have some issues with winning or something? Like maybe you should go to Washington and tell them to put a ban on winning at anything. Obviously you must have some personal vendetta against it, since you haven’t won in such a long time. You are the biggest loser here. Week after week I watch you get beat.
Evan Banks, wow your debut in the company cracking me with a chair went really well for you. You and Maddox were on top of the world. Then what happened?! O that’s right you couldn’t hit me from behind again. This time you got hit with a lethal Laughter. You must be really hating the fact that I was willing to slide out of the ring, let you and Maddox crush Franchise, but instead you cracked me with that chair. Well that’s in the past and in less you have delorin that can hit 88 mph and has a flux conpasiter doesn’t look like your changing it. Your final warning stay out of my business and I will stay out of yours. I am sure you don’t want your head to be cracked open next time I hit you with that Lethal dose of Laughter.
Franchise…We picked up the win, congrats and thank you. I have to say I am quite pleased that you and I were able to make a good tag team. I am sad though, because there won’t be an opportunity like that again anytime soon. Why? Because our paths have split and now we will have to wait in till we cross them again. On that day Franchise, I would just plan on getting on my good side, maybe I will let you survive our next meeting.
Back to Ms. Burrows….I only have one thing left to say, if you can’t push me to my limit don’t waste my time. Just don’t show up, and if you can even give me the thought in my mind that I could lose, then yes come on down to that ring. Lets wrestle, no games, no cheating, just me and you straight up hard nose fight. I hope that you make the right decision no one will disrespect you for not showing up. I am totally understanding, and no one will disrespect you when my hand is held high after 10 count no show. Just think about it. If you come out to the ring, prepare yourself, work yourself harder than ever, study my tapes in your sleep, you might as well get used to me being in your dreams; because I plan on haunting your nightmares.
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OO WAIT A MINUTE WE ALMOST FORGOT!
THE JESTER PRANK OF THE WEEK!
This week, we have made real contact with AJ Adams, not the audio tech. This is his car. Now this prank is a little illegal, soo sssshhh. You take this slim jim as I like to call it, not the kind you eat. You slide this into his locks, and hey look at that car is unlocked. Now you remove stereo, and unshell it, so it’s just the body. You re-rig the speakers up, so when he powers up, he gets rick rolled, when he turns the station or puts in a cd…he gets rick rolled! If he turns it down it turns it up. Oo and when he goes to shut it off, he shuts down for 12 seconds and then Rick Rolls him again.
Mwhahahaa its’ brilliant. Like a mother fucking engineering master plan. First this then the world Mwhaahaha!
*he gets out of the car and scene fades*
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Post by kris on Aug 1, 2010 21:58:03 GMT -5
June 2nd, 1998 - 9:42 P.M. E.S.T.
The scent of sawdust is heavy in the air of the shed that's stood in the back yard of the Burrows household since before Natalie was even a glint in her mother's eye, the subtle sweetness of cedar engaged in an eternal war with the less favorable tang of pine. The thin layer of softness is more than enough to muffle the ten-year-old's steps as she crept into the space, the little girl doing her best to stick to the shadows so she could observe her dad's work without being spotted. Sure, she was up well past her bedtime... but her mom had fallen asleep in front of Law and Order again, leaving her free to sneak out the back door to spend some time with her father. There was something comforting about the well-worn work benches and the equally-used tools that her father did his best to maintain - and that was saying nothing about the soothing presence of the man himself, denim and cotton hidden away beneath an old mechanic's uniform. Even if he was the simple sort of man that most city slickers turned their noses up at, Natalie couldn't imagine a better example of his gender if she tried. Even if his hair's starting to gray at the temples, it's easy to see just where a certain Southern Belle got her blond curls since Robert's in need of a haircut... not to mention her social graces, since he's grinning good-naturedly at the teasing jabs from Morgan Reid. The fellow that had recently retired from the ring is letting the zingers fly with impunity, knowing full well that his good friend can dish out just as good as he takes. Natalie knows that she's in for some entertainment as she crouches behind one of her father's tool cabinets, watching raptly as Morgan took another sip of his sweet tea before he began another round of verbal sparring.
I'm tellin' ya, Bobby. You'd best be off jus' goin' n' buyin' one of them chairs they have n' front of th' Cracka' Barrel 'stead of tryin' ta finish tis hunk of firewood.
The Burrows patriarch chuckles, shaking his head. Despite his friend's thick drawl, his own accent doesn't get any thicker; if anything, it remains steadfastly and stubbornly slight. Such was the end result of working with too many Northerners.
Those things ain't built to last, Morgan - you know that. Besides, I'm not gonna' get any better at this stuff if I don't work at it.
There's a diff'rence b'tween tryin' to improve an' jus' bein' stubborn for th' sake of bein' stubborn! Hell, I'm surprised ya haven' gone an' cut off one of yer fingers yet!
Your concern is touchin', but I've got a good feelin' about this o--
Jus' like th' las' two?
The mock-glare that Robert gave Morgan earned a chuckle from the former wrestler as well as a giggle from Natalie. At first, Reid's voice does a mighty fine job of covering up the little girl's laughter... but he regains his composure long before she does. For a moment, her giggle rings out as clear as day, alerting both men to her presence. As soon as she realizes that she's been so loud, Natalie's eyes go wide before she covers her mouth with both hands, her gasp only slightly quieter than her laugh. The pair of friends regard one another in silence for a moment before Robert chuckles. There's only a touch of disapproval in his tone as he raises his voice only enough to ensure that he is clearly heard by his only child when next he speaks.
Now what are you doin' out of bed at this hour, kiddo?
There was no hiding from her father, Natalie knew... just like she knew that there was no need to fear him, either. Peeking out from around the faded gray metal, there's a good inch or two of wild blond curls that would have put Lil' Orphan Annie to shame before those blue eyes of hers (eyes that she got from her mother) come into view. She doesn't need much more coaxing to come out into full view, overall shorts and a simple pink shirt both a bit on the dirty side thanks to playing all day. The little Southern Belle makes it all of three steps before getting scooped up by Morgan.
Now b'careful there, lil' gal... don' wan' ya gettin' a splinter. Yer ma'd neva' let us hea' the end of it!
Giving Natalie a knowing look that makes her giggle, Morgan carries her past the worst of the sawdust and splinters, dragging his boot along the floor near her father to clear away a spot for her to safely stand. No sooner do her feet touch the cement is she clinging to Robert's waist, giving her father a hug. Chuckling a bit, the Burrows patriarch gently musses up her hair before turning his attention back to the chair that sits before him. The reddish wood that he has always favored has been coaxed (and cursed, although never in her presence) into a deck chair that certainly looks solid, the rough edges all sanded away and all of the nail-heads driven that little bit beyond flush so as to prevent any snagging of clothes. He nods toward it, directing his daughter's gaze to his latest project.
You remember the first two tries I made at a chair for you, right?
At Natalie's nod, he continues.
Welp, this here's my third try. You know what they say about the third time bein' the charm... well, I think it's true in this case. Even if Mister Reid--
Damn Bobby, ya know she can call me Morgan!
...even if he's been joking around with me about Chair Number Three, he knows it just as well as I do. Now what's the lesson here, kiddo?
That you keep trying and don't give up?
Robert's smile of approval is bright as he nods, dropping down to one knee beside his only child.
That's exactly right. Now how about tryin' it out for me?
The surprised look that Natalie gives Robert earns a bit of a sheepish chuckle along with another nod of consent. Needing no further permission, Natalie takes the couple of steps forward needed to get to the chair before climbing in it. At her height, her feet dangle a good couple inches off of the floor... but that's something she pays no mind to, settling right back and getting comfortable in the seat her dad had so lovingly crafted for her. She can dimly hear Morgan speak - something about how he'd be damned for something or other - but she doesn't favor him with her gaze. Instead, she keeps looking up at her father, smiling to beat the band...
July 31st, 2010 - 2:15 P.M. E.S.T.
Dad...
In that very same chair is where Natalie sits when the scene moves to the present. The surroundings have changed to the sun-filled expanse that is her back yard - that little lean-to where her father had set up his woodworking tools had long since been torn down by the people that now owned the property - and time has quite obviously passed, bringing the Southern Belle into adulthood. Osh Kosh has been replaced with simple khaki dress-slacks and a sleeveless white blouse, and Lil' Oprhan Annie curls have been tamed into some semblance of order that looks as well-polished as it does natural. Even with these changes, though, there's quite a bit that's the same. The weather hasn't had the chance to do much damage to the wooden seat she occupies, for one; the clear varnish Robert so lovingly applied is still subtly shining in the light of day, the warm cedar undertones still just as vibrant as ever. More important than that, though, is the expression on Natalie's face. She's smiling softly, nostalgia carrying her back to what she considers to be one of the happiest times of her life, before that fateful night in 2006 and the funeral that followed, before her mother's descent into the very poison that had inadvertently taken away the most influential person she had ever known... before she was forced to rebuild her life, brick by blessed brick. Of course, she cannot stay in the past forever and so, with a reluctant sigh, her mind makes the transition back into the present. There's still some lingering traces of nostalgia in her tone as she begins to speak, the camera offered its usual nod of greeting.
There's a lot of things that I learned from my father in that old workshop of his. Not giving up, being honest in everything you do, how to remove splinters...
A bit of a sheepish grin at that last part, the Southern Belle chuckling softly before she continues.
The most valuable lesson he ever taught me, though, was to treat others as I would like to be treated. It's something I think that a lot of people could do with remembering since it seems like the world has become very much a cold and selfish place… but just because they've forgotten about common courtesy doesn't mean that I have to. It will be a very cold day in you-know-where indeed when I decide to forget about doing things the honest way in the name of taking the easier route to get myself ahead, especially when I know that I can get to where I want to go without sinking to that level. So what if it makes me a target in the eyes of those that would manipulate others to get what they want instead of taking care of their problems themselves? They can make the path before me more dangerous to traverse but, as I'm sure most folks have figured out by now, I'm not afraid of having to take the more difficult route since it will make the rewards at the end all the sweeter for it. Besides, I'll have no trouble at all sleeping tonight since I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I did the right thing and that no one will be able to question a single blessed thing that I have accomplished.
Her grin fades as a contemplative expression makes its way onto her features, her head canting slightly to the side as she ponders the viewpoint of her opponent. This certain clown had made a point of trying to belittle that one simple golden rule… and, to be quite honest, she couldn't really understand what his problem was. Sure, she could assume - but why do that when she can just ask?
Just what is your problem with that, Mister Allen? It seems strange to me that anyone would want to actively encourage someone else to permanently end one's livelihood, much less when they themselves have been a target of the sort of personality that breeds such nonsense. I cannot help but wonder if perhaps you aren't hiding that exact self-serving personality behind that joker's smile, dollar signs the source of that mirthful glee in your eyes. It wouldn't surprise me if Miss Taylor had decided to make you the very same offer that she made me - beyond a change in target, of course - and… sadly, it wouldn't be much of a shock if you accepted, not with what you've said. Any chances you could have had at making your own attempts at ending my career a surprise have long since vanished, but that's of no real consequence. What matters is simple; you will not succeed. I have worked far too hard and for far too long to allow anyone to stop me before I have reached my goal of making a name for myself in this business… and the TGW Championship is one of the key things that will make it happen. That's only a small piece of the puzzle, though; what will really define me in the annuls of time is my actions, my determination and heart that will help me get right back up time and time again. It has served me well, so far, and I suspect that it will do so until the day I die. I am a survivor, Mister Allen, and it will take far more than the ire of a manager spurned to keep me down… and that's saying nothing about the clown that, to the best of my knowledge, is content to dangle at the ends of her strings for the right price.
The blond nods to reaffirm that point, her determination bright in her eyes right alongside of that competitive spirit, the fire that drove her only burning hotter.
I really should thank you, though, for how you kept saying that you would be the end of my momentum, the glass ceiling over my head, the man that I would never beat… because all the more you've done is add to that determination of mine. There's no motivator in the world like being told you can't do something which, considering how you yourself have used it in the past, surprises me since you know just what it is capable of. Why you would want to put that in the hands of a competitor you freely admit is a talented one is beyond me, but I'm not about to question it. It's kind of like how you can try to bring as many irrelevant things into this as you like - my gender and taste in partners, for instance, or your choice in lifestyle as a clown - to try to give your words more weight, but all the more you're doing is muddying the waters for yourself. Me, I see things crystal clear… and I'm sorry, Mister Allen, but from where I'm sitting? You've set yourself up for one Heck of an upset. That's about all the more you've done, really… you've talked down to me as if you have the experience in the ring with me to do so, you've made blanket generalizations that couldn't be any further from the truth, and you've made a point of saying that you’re better than me as if doing so will make it anything more than an opinion. Simply because that opinion happens to be yours doesn't make it true, Mister Allen, and at Animosity, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that you learn that lesson one way or another.
Ahh, so it is possible to rile her up… if you call reinforcing her drive riled up. There's still no insults to be found, though - no catty comments or cheap shots or anything like that. She's even giving him the courtesy of not suddenly breaking away from the subject at hand to discuss people that aren't even involved in the match… but, then again, she always has been rather professional about things, even moreso than the norm. It was a stark contrast to be certain, between her and her opponent - one that would be made even more clear by how she brought her address to its end.
You'll have to forgive me for declining your invitation to not show up for our match, Mister Allen… I simply do not go the route of cowardice. Instead, I face everything head-on since I know that it's a lot easier than letting those challenges go around and stab me in the back. You can talk all you want about how you will rule this company with an iron fist, or how I'd be better off to just walk away… it won't stop me from looking you right in your eyes before I force you to push yourself further than anyone else in this company has done so far. Who knows? I just might push my way right past you.
A nod of parting... and then everything fades to black as Natalie settles back into her chair, letting her thoughts slowly drift back toward the sepia tones of memories past.
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Post by Andy on Aug 2, 2010 18:15:31 GMT -5
The Past: Sleep, They are trying to force me to sleep. Why? Because they have noticed how incapable of it I am. I don’t like sleeping their hours did they ever think of that. Here is how they solve it. They look me in a room with no light, no contact, no food, no water. In till I go to sleep. In till I drift off to the sandman’s call. If only my mother would sing me my favorite lullaby. Twinkle Twinkle little star. I miss it a lot. My poor mother, she had me a son. Too bad she died the year I graduated from clowning school. It’s probably better; I don’t want her to see what has become of me. A clown in the asylum for what? Beating up a couple people, because I lost my cool one night. So what? I’m not crazy! Okay I’m not Crazy! I am just a happy little clown! Just a happy little clown! See nothing wrong with me. No tears nothing just a clown who wants to bring smiles again! Smiles! I just want to be happy? Why can’t I be happy again? What is happy? Where is happy? Happy? Happy? Happy?
Chad Allen shoves his hands into his eyes [/color] The Present:Jester Chad Allen removes his hands from his eyes to be an open field. blue skys, everything is open and free.
Jester Chad Allen So, you think you got it all figured out. That I have sold out to corporate. That I am going to just comprise myself for the money. I would never comprise myself the money. I do what Ms. Taylor ask me because she keeps throwing little rats like you into that ring for me to exterminate like a snake. You see Ms. Burrows you mam are like a star trying your hardest to give every flower on the earth the light in needs to grow. I am a slithering sneaky snake who takes that flower and squeezes it so tight , that no light ever enters. Soon or later you will just keep pushing yourself and pushing yourself to get the light through, and I with no effort will continue to destroy that power flower in till you just burn out. So let me sing you a little jester’s song[glow=red,2,300]
Twinkle Twinkle Little star WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! you think of yourself so high I’ll stab a needle in your eye
Twinkle Tiwnle little star Who the fuck do you think you are?
When your blaze is done you will look upon a Jester who’s right And beat you all night
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK ARE?[/glow]
So sweet I know. It goes on, but I figure that’s enough for now. We will save some for Tuesday right?
SO Working hard is going to get you where you need to be huh? Working to be the best, always trying to continue to be the little choo choo that could right. Little Timmy at Christmas saying god bless everyone. The Underdog winner who just keeps their chin up, even when the going gets tough. I know I know! I was just like you, all about keeping the smiles on everyone. Giving little chin chucks on those who needed a pick me up. Someone will break you, someone will destroy that spirit within. Just like they did to me, years of being hospitalized for the exact same thing will do that to you. Got to please yourself, before pleasing others. I don’t mean go masturbate Ms. Burrows. I mean you need to be happy truly happy. Some of us find it different ways, maybe you get it from working hard and being the best you you can be. Me, well lets just say I get it now not from getting a pie to the face or the classic flower joke. I now have been taught that pain is the only way to bring happiness to myself and to others. I have gone through my pains and paid my dues beyond belief. Only when you are at a breaking point can you truly understand happiness.
You reminiscence about times of the past, when you find yourself. You believe that remembering every detail of that chair makes you happy. Question is are you happy when you look at that chair? Have you gone through the shit storms of lives. Where you wake up, turn on the shower and shit just sprays all over you? Then those years where you feel like death is going to be the only escape. You think I can go back to clowning…I am going to go back to Clowning…but YOU CANT! Because now you are considered a criminal no one wants a criminal in their house to entertain children. No one wants to have some psychopath from the insane asylum to come in and have those children laugh as I Pie their father. No longer can I do this. Now I have to break the spirits of people, so they can understand that every moment of tranquility. That finally they can look back at moments in their lives and say “wow well I am still better off than when Jester Chad Allen ruined my life. “
Now you want to talk about how much pride you have in yourself. How no one will stop you from reaching your goals, of being the best in this business and the TGW title. You know Natalie, are we on a first name basis yet? I am not sure? Well anyways Ms. Burrows. It is Ms? Sorry anyway sometimes I get off topic. You want that TGW title, be the best in this region maybe move on to the nation, and then the world right. Hey good for you, have those dreams. You want the TGW title take it, the fact is it means nothing to me. I talk a big game; I say how much I desire to take the TGW title, and the NWA title. The fact is the only reason I want them, is so I am the easy target. That everyone wants to fight; so I can bring them the most intense pain in their lives.
My words are muddy…allow me to read my novel that I have been writing, you can tell me if its muddy then.
Jester with his dreadlocks flowing through the air, the world looks like its breathing through JCA, who grabs something out of the ground. It’s a book covered in mud. “the Jester way by Jester Chad Allen”
That’s me!
“With a ultra sweet throw the curls of the cream and the graham cracker crust came hurling towards bubbles, who used to float like he really was a bubble. The Cream pushed right through bubbles white face who beeps with joy. The tin foil frame creases and molds around the big red round nose of bubbles….”
O looks like there is some mud here hold on.
“Bubbles let a large amount of air as he laughed and laughed. He jumped into his itzy bitzy tiny whiny car, and drove towards Jester, who kept strong. Jester unleashed the power of his lungs and yelled “NOOOO!” as the car came rushing towards him. He pulled out a black sleek, almost undefintiable remote control with a shiny bright red button on it. Jester pressed it down with his skinny index finger with force beyond measure. Bubbles had no choice but to be inside the car as it went up in firey, blue yellows, reds, and orange flames. Bubbles jumped out and ran around around around and more around the circle while his arm was still caught by hells purging mechanism. Jester Ran by with his steel, gray, and maybe old bucket and splashed bubbles…bubbles cried…his soapy tears running down his cheek as JCA blew them away they turned into beautiful clear soapy bubbles. Washing away all the muddled words.”
Yey no more mud Jester and Bubbles save the day, now we are bubble clear! No more mud words! No muddy things! Everyone is as clean as mr. clean! That man can have sex with a aids filled herp girl and get nothing. Asshole.
OOOOOO I love story time! It’s Awesome! Ooo good yes! You want to stare me in the eyes on Tuesday…I will stare into yours, just like I have done and read everything you have going on in your mind. All through one blink of your lashes; every nerve that might be twitching, every hair standing up, I will know, I will exploit. You may survive, but life either way will only get better for you after Tuesday. Either way, stare into my eyes, look at my suffering, feel your future through me. You look me in the eyes on Tuesday; and you will look at them every day for the rest of your life, as I Haunt your dreams.
Jester winks, and scene fades. [/b][/center]
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