Post by L. S. Hutchinson on Apr 8, 2012 18:56:24 GMT -5
I was happy about being teamed with Kried, at least for the week. I actually really love tag team wrestling, I think it’s much better than singles competiton. Something about two teams going to war with eachother just appeals to me. I’m a five time tag team champion, you know? First reign was with this cowboy rookie from NCW called Chris Storm. We’re still friends outside of the ring, he even came to my wedding. Both of them actually ... heh. We won the NCW tag team titles twice, both times I carried us to victory, I was always the better wrestler, I just needed someone else. Correction, “anybody else” to earn those tag team championships with. Chris was just lucky enough to share the reign with me. The other three times was with DeWayne Phillips. We’re still friends too, he was the best man at my wedding and I sort of set him up with Mary’s little sister, they were a nice couple, I sorta miss teaming with DeWayne but in all honesty, despite being my favourite tag team partner I’ve ever had, he became useless towards our second and third reign, so after XWO went down the drain, we decided not to tag team again. At least not inthe near future. Finally now I’ve found someone that is as good as I am and won’t stab me in the back ... I’m assuming. If our match against the Wicked Assassins, Metallica and Rye, goes good ... maybe we’ll be a regular thing. Right now, I don’t know.
But ... I’ve got a “feeling” about this. It’s gonna work out. I just know it.
As the clock began to strike to the hour, I realised how long I had been sitting at the pub, unaware of the time and talking to Kried. Jesus, Mary’s gonna kill me. I’m supposed to be at home in thirty minutes ... but it takes me two hours to get back home from this stupid BLEEPing place. Urgh. I don’t even know why I went here. Seriously, I had nothing to do here, yet I came here anyway and avoided my wife and children. Oh yeah, that’s it. I was supposed to talk to ... erm ... what’s her name? Metallica? Yeah, I was supposed to tell her to shut her mouth about the kiss she landed on me last night. I don’t want any rumours to go around about me cheating on my wife ... again. Damn, now I got into a fight with a woman who can easily bribe me. GREAT! *facepalm*
Kried looks up to me after taking a bite of his big german sausage (get your mind out of the gutter, audience!), he take a big gulp before noticing me get up to leave. He almost instantly questioned what I was doing.
Kried
“What you doing, Stytch? I thought you ordered some ice cream and a can of monster energy?”
Stytch
“Yeah I did, it’s just I’m suppose to be home in thirty minutes.”
Kried
“Go in twenty minutes then.”
Stytch
“I live in Philly, not New York.”
Kried
“Oh, right. You need a lift?”
Stytch
“Nah, my car’s outside.”
Kried
“Oh right, well I guess I’ll see you some other time.”
Stytch
“Sure. I’ll text you tomorrow, make sure you bring your training gear with you.”
Kried
“We training tomorrow?”
Stytch
“Sure, I’ll text you the location. Just make sure you’re around Philly tomorrow.”
Kried
“Alright, take it easy pal.”
Stytch
“Ditto.”
I grab my hoodie and head pick up my phone before casually strolling out of the pub and walking across the road. I get into my car, turn the key and smirk underneath my mask. Not because I’ve found a new pawn to be my “partner”. But because I feel like for the first time in a VERY long time. I’ve found someone who can match my skills. Someone that rather than being a dick and trying to treat me like shit *Caugh* Nick Malone *Caugh* he wants to combine forces and perhaps become the greatest tag team (nearly said gat team :S) this company has ever seen. Oh yeah ... life is awesome right about now.
Except for like ... you know ... my wife and four kids draining me of my money EVERY DAY. Urgh. Sometimes I wish I had just came on my ex wives tits. But doesn’t every father? Hehe. In all seriousness though, I love my kids. I love Kyle, my oldest son. I love Nick and Matt, my twin sons and I love my baby daughter Cody. I just miss being able to sleep around without having a family to take care about. Oh how I miss the days when I had sexual intercourse with anything that moved. Aww, I miss 2007. My oldest son is like twelve ten or something ... but if you don’t understand the timeline of my life ... then you’re not a real fan now are you? I’ll inform you in a very simplistic way becuase I’m pretty sick of writing biographies. Seriously, I wrote two about the exact same things.
Alright. Was born Jordan Dante Sonispier (pronounced Soniss-pee-err) to Benjamin and Victoria Sonispier. I was their first son. What happened was that when I was born, my mother was very weak and asked for some coffee. My father went to get some and when he returned, I was replaced with a dying hispanic baby. I had been baby swapped/kidnapped by a Mexican-American couple. The father swapped his child for me because his child was dying and he just wanted to make his wife happy. So he swapped his child for me and attempted to trick his wife. His wife had died before he got a chance to show me to her, so he attempted to give me back but by then my parents had discovered the switch and had gotten the cops involved. I was raised by my kidnapper for a few days before being given to my kidnapper’s brother and his Scottish wife to raise. They raised me in Scotland for most of my life but my “uncle” was killed in a tree accident (squished him) and my “aunt” cut her wrists because she couldn’t bare the stress of losing her husband. Before the accident I was involved in my own accident. Me and my two best friend had just stolen a motorbike and were testing it out. It was my turn to impress the other two, so I pulled back the handle bars, revved up the motor and went down a large hill that had quite the fall on the opposite side, although I did not know this at the time. I attempted to stop at the very edge but instead launched myself downwards, fell a great height and suffered facial scarring as a result of the bike falling on my BLEEPING face.
When I woke up I was in hospital. That’s when I met Mary. She was the one that found me, along with her father. My own friends had abandonend me and she was me rescue. She was my savior. I could have died if it wasn’t for her finding me. Fortunately the facial scars mentioned earlier were just on my forehead, although this sorta made me look like frankenstein for the following few years, at least it didn’t affect me too much. Me and Mary sorta became friends after that, went to school together, stood up for each other when the kids picked on us and hung out every day or at least most days. Then one day we were watching a movie, one of those Frankenstein movies with Boris Karloff I believe, and we both dipped our hands into the popcorn. We accidentally touched hands and were both like “oh, sorry.” ... but then we just looked into each other’s eyes, went in for the kiss and ... was interupted by her father saying that the toilet was blocked because of her big “logs”. Hehe. Still kinda funny when I think about it, but that was actually the start of something great.
On 24th March 2001, my “aunt” and “uncle” went out to get my birthday cake and Mary came over from her house (just down the street) wearing a long coat. She came up to my room and said “I got a present for you, wanna see?”. She then proceeded to take off the coat, revealing her almost naked body underneath. Her breasts and vagina hidden ever so slightly by two red bows. Oh, how I love unwrapping my birthday presents.
Don’t get jerking off to that, man. We were underraged back then. In a fit of panic, I tried to find my “just in case” condoms but it looked like they had disappeared somewhere. So being the utterly retarded baffoon that I was, I got my sellotape and wrapped my knob up. I don’t know why the hell I thought that would work, all it did was restrict the blood flow to my knob and cause pain when I had to rip it all off. Hurt so god damn much ... but trust me, people. It was WORTH it.
I guess one of my little swimmers must have made it, because a few weeks later she told her parents she thought she was pregnant and in a fit of anger, her father threw her in his car and drove off, telling her that he knew I was always bad for her. I had no idea what was going on and her mother was being completely silent, so I had just assumed she had moved away with her father and was too scared or nervous to dump me.
Then the other accidents happened, the thing bellow happened and Mary returned to Scotland, only to find I had moved away. She essentially brought up my son by herself and without my knowledge about it. She tried to contact me several times but never got any such luck.
I spent some time living with the local sheriff (he had taken me in to avoid me going into care) and a few weeks later they tracked down my “nearest relative” and put me on a plane to Mexico to meet my other uncle, the owner of a wrestling school. I trained under my other “uncle’s” wing and got into wrestling, finding myself to be quite the natural at this new sport I was just now hearing about. I lived, ate and trained as a wrestler in training for the next three years, eventually deciding to become a wrestler after I had travelled the world, something I had always wanted to do.
So I travelled to a few countires and found myself in Italy one night. I was basically sleeping around with a bunch of hairy Italian women every night and always sat at the bar across from my hotel, often hooking up with women more than once for a “just for fun” deal. I actually had a big butch Italian cunt after me this one time, because I had apparently slept with his wife ... or daughter ... or mother. I’m not sure. My Italian is not very good.
Anyways, some .... personal stuff with an Italian gang happened and I, along with a few “friends” was forced to leave the country. My friend owed quite a lot of money, he was such an unlucky gambler. So I came to America, worked as a waiter for a few weeks and when I found out about a training seminar for JCW, I just had to sign up.
I got brought up to the main roster and was given a crappy latino gangster gimmick. After some arguements, I took on a more monsterous gimmick and lost like six matches in a row. It was around this time Mister Torkkeli confronted me about quitting JCW and signing up to NCW for a better paycheck. I signed up, quit JCW and went through several gimmicks.
The first gimmick they gave me was “Evan Knox”, a generic TV host type gimmick. Then I was “Super Player Minus”, a quick tribute and copycat gimmick of Player Uno. It was around this time I was getting sick of the shit gimmicks. They then gave me a King Tekken costume and said “you’re King, go out there and win.”, it was utterly ridiculous. Felt like I was a joke. So I worked with what I got or at least I tried to but I eventually just drew out my modern more famous wrestling attire and was just like “make this, call me Stytch and don’t call me a blue alien, okay you asshole?”. It worked, I got my costume, I got my name and ... well ... I was taken seriously for once. STYTCH was born hahaha *lightining* it’s alive, it’s ALIVVE hahaha.
Yeah, went all evil genius there. But that was my basic reaction to wrestling as Stytch for the first time. Now I’m famous, rich and basically the Iron Man of the wrestling world, to quote a fan of mine who apparently thinks I act like Robert Downey Junior as Tony Stark. Meh, I’ll take it as a complement.Who doesn’t wanna be Iron Man? I sure do. I’d be like “pew pew pew pew” and that wouldn’t be like the blasters in my hands, that would be me making voices with my mouth just for the sake of acting like a weirdo, hehe.
What was I talking about again? I forget.
Point is, don’t question me on my origin story ... ‘cause the origin story is more complicated than you could ever imagine ... and it sorta becomes longer than the actual promo.
Oh, I remember where I was at, I’ll just hurry this up now, because I’m VERY tired.
I met Catalina, she gave birth to Matt and Nick, I get sent a letter telling me that I’m a father (from Mary) and I meet my son. Then my wife, Catalina dies, I instantly get back with Mary and ... guess what? I get her pregnant again. Jesus, I’m a fertile bastard. So I remarried, this time to the first woman I ever loved and after some usual christmas stuff (my boss kidnapping my pregnant wife, using her as his little bitch and using her to get to me, leading up to an arrest by the police on him and Mary’s waters breaking on live TV) our first daughter was born.
There. That’s it. I’m done. Too tired to do any fucking more.
The end.
Sleepy sleepy awesome future dreaming time now. Bobbye reader, you better have fucking appreciated this.
But ... I’ve got a “feeling” about this. It’s gonna work out. I just know it.
As the clock began to strike to the hour, I realised how long I had been sitting at the pub, unaware of the time and talking to Kried. Jesus, Mary’s gonna kill me. I’m supposed to be at home in thirty minutes ... but it takes me two hours to get back home from this stupid BLEEPing place. Urgh. I don’t even know why I went here. Seriously, I had nothing to do here, yet I came here anyway and avoided my wife and children. Oh yeah, that’s it. I was supposed to talk to ... erm ... what’s her name? Metallica? Yeah, I was supposed to tell her to shut her mouth about the kiss she landed on me last night. I don’t want any rumours to go around about me cheating on my wife ... again. Damn, now I got into a fight with a woman who can easily bribe me. GREAT! *facepalm*
Kried looks up to me after taking a bite of his big german sausage (get your mind out of the gutter, audience!), he take a big gulp before noticing me get up to leave. He almost instantly questioned what I was doing.
Kried
“What you doing, Stytch? I thought you ordered some ice cream and a can of monster energy?”
Stytch
“Yeah I did, it’s just I’m suppose to be home in thirty minutes.”
Kried
“Go in twenty minutes then.”
Stytch
“I live in Philly, not New York.”
Kried
“Oh, right. You need a lift?”
Stytch
“Nah, my car’s outside.”
Kried
“Oh right, well I guess I’ll see you some other time.”
Stytch
“Sure. I’ll text you tomorrow, make sure you bring your training gear with you.”
Kried
“We training tomorrow?”
Stytch
“Sure, I’ll text you the location. Just make sure you’re around Philly tomorrow.”
Kried
“Alright, take it easy pal.”
Stytch
“Ditto.”
I grab my hoodie and head pick up my phone before casually strolling out of the pub and walking across the road. I get into my car, turn the key and smirk underneath my mask. Not because I’ve found a new pawn to be my “partner”. But because I feel like for the first time in a VERY long time. I’ve found someone who can match my skills. Someone that rather than being a dick and trying to treat me like shit *Caugh* Nick Malone *Caugh* he wants to combine forces and perhaps become the greatest tag team (nearly said gat team :S) this company has ever seen. Oh yeah ... life is awesome right about now.
Except for like ... you know ... my wife and four kids draining me of my money EVERY DAY. Urgh. Sometimes I wish I had just came on my ex wives tits. But doesn’t every father? Hehe. In all seriousness though, I love my kids. I love Kyle, my oldest son. I love Nick and Matt, my twin sons and I love my baby daughter Cody. I just miss being able to sleep around without having a family to take care about. Oh how I miss the days when I had sexual intercourse with anything that moved. Aww, I miss 2007. My oldest son is like twelve ten or something ... but if you don’t understand the timeline of my life ... then you’re not a real fan now are you? I’ll inform you in a very simplistic way becuase I’m pretty sick of writing biographies. Seriously, I wrote two about the exact same things.
Alright. Was born Jordan Dante Sonispier (pronounced Soniss-pee-err) to Benjamin and Victoria Sonispier. I was their first son. What happened was that when I was born, my mother was very weak and asked for some coffee. My father went to get some and when he returned, I was replaced with a dying hispanic baby. I had been baby swapped/kidnapped by a Mexican-American couple. The father swapped his child for me because his child was dying and he just wanted to make his wife happy. So he swapped his child for me and attempted to trick his wife. His wife had died before he got a chance to show me to her, so he attempted to give me back but by then my parents had discovered the switch and had gotten the cops involved. I was raised by my kidnapper for a few days before being given to my kidnapper’s brother and his Scottish wife to raise. They raised me in Scotland for most of my life but my “uncle” was killed in a tree accident (squished him) and my “aunt” cut her wrists because she couldn’t bare the stress of losing her husband. Before the accident I was involved in my own accident. Me and my two best friend had just stolen a motorbike and were testing it out. It was my turn to impress the other two, so I pulled back the handle bars, revved up the motor and went down a large hill that had quite the fall on the opposite side, although I did not know this at the time. I attempted to stop at the very edge but instead launched myself downwards, fell a great height and suffered facial scarring as a result of the bike falling on my BLEEPING face.
When I woke up I was in hospital. That’s when I met Mary. She was the one that found me, along with her father. My own friends had abandonend me and she was me rescue. She was my savior. I could have died if it wasn’t for her finding me. Fortunately the facial scars mentioned earlier were just on my forehead, although this sorta made me look like frankenstein for the following few years, at least it didn’t affect me too much. Me and Mary sorta became friends after that, went to school together, stood up for each other when the kids picked on us and hung out every day or at least most days. Then one day we were watching a movie, one of those Frankenstein movies with Boris Karloff I believe, and we both dipped our hands into the popcorn. We accidentally touched hands and were both like “oh, sorry.” ... but then we just looked into each other’s eyes, went in for the kiss and ... was interupted by her father saying that the toilet was blocked because of her big “logs”. Hehe. Still kinda funny when I think about it, but that was actually the start of something great.
On 24th March 2001, my “aunt” and “uncle” went out to get my birthday cake and Mary came over from her house (just down the street) wearing a long coat. She came up to my room and said “I got a present for you, wanna see?”. She then proceeded to take off the coat, revealing her almost naked body underneath. Her breasts and vagina hidden ever so slightly by two red bows. Oh, how I love unwrapping my birthday presents.
Don’t get jerking off to that, man. We were underraged back then. In a fit of panic, I tried to find my “just in case” condoms but it looked like they had disappeared somewhere. So being the utterly retarded baffoon that I was, I got my sellotape and wrapped my knob up. I don’t know why the hell I thought that would work, all it did was restrict the blood flow to my knob and cause pain when I had to rip it all off. Hurt so god damn much ... but trust me, people. It was WORTH it.
I guess one of my little swimmers must have made it, because a few weeks later she told her parents she thought she was pregnant and in a fit of anger, her father threw her in his car and drove off, telling her that he knew I was always bad for her. I had no idea what was going on and her mother was being completely silent, so I had just assumed she had moved away with her father and was too scared or nervous to dump me.
Then the other accidents happened, the thing bellow happened and Mary returned to Scotland, only to find I had moved away. She essentially brought up my son by herself and without my knowledge about it. She tried to contact me several times but never got any such luck.
I spent some time living with the local sheriff (he had taken me in to avoid me going into care) and a few weeks later they tracked down my “nearest relative” and put me on a plane to Mexico to meet my other uncle, the owner of a wrestling school. I trained under my other “uncle’s” wing and got into wrestling, finding myself to be quite the natural at this new sport I was just now hearing about. I lived, ate and trained as a wrestler in training for the next three years, eventually deciding to become a wrestler after I had travelled the world, something I had always wanted to do.
So I travelled to a few countires and found myself in Italy one night. I was basically sleeping around with a bunch of hairy Italian women every night and always sat at the bar across from my hotel, often hooking up with women more than once for a “just for fun” deal. I actually had a big butch Italian cunt after me this one time, because I had apparently slept with his wife ... or daughter ... or mother. I’m not sure. My Italian is not very good.
Anyways, some .... personal stuff with an Italian gang happened and I, along with a few “friends” was forced to leave the country. My friend owed quite a lot of money, he was such an unlucky gambler. So I came to America, worked as a waiter for a few weeks and when I found out about a training seminar for JCW, I just had to sign up.
I got brought up to the main roster and was given a crappy latino gangster gimmick. After some arguements, I took on a more monsterous gimmick and lost like six matches in a row. It was around this time Mister Torkkeli confronted me about quitting JCW and signing up to NCW for a better paycheck. I signed up, quit JCW and went through several gimmicks.
The first gimmick they gave me was “Evan Knox”, a generic TV host type gimmick. Then I was “Super Player Minus”, a quick tribute and copycat gimmick of Player Uno. It was around this time I was getting sick of the shit gimmicks. They then gave me a King Tekken costume and said “you’re King, go out there and win.”, it was utterly ridiculous. Felt like I was a joke. So I worked with what I got or at least I tried to but I eventually just drew out my modern more famous wrestling attire and was just like “make this, call me Stytch and don’t call me a blue alien, okay you asshole?”. It worked, I got my costume, I got my name and ... well ... I was taken seriously for once. STYTCH was born hahaha *lightining* it’s alive, it’s ALIVVE hahaha.
Yeah, went all evil genius there. But that was my basic reaction to wrestling as Stytch for the first time. Now I’m famous, rich and basically the Iron Man of the wrestling world, to quote a fan of mine who apparently thinks I act like Robert Downey Junior as Tony Stark. Meh, I’ll take it as a complement.Who doesn’t wanna be Iron Man? I sure do. I’d be like “pew pew pew pew” and that wouldn’t be like the blasters in my hands, that would be me making voices with my mouth just for the sake of acting like a weirdo, hehe.
What was I talking about again? I forget.
Point is, don’t question me on my origin story ... ‘cause the origin story is more complicated than you could ever imagine ... and it sorta becomes longer than the actual promo.
Oh, I remember where I was at, I’ll just hurry this up now, because I’m VERY tired.
I met Catalina, she gave birth to Matt and Nick, I get sent a letter telling me that I’m a father (from Mary) and I meet my son. Then my wife, Catalina dies, I instantly get back with Mary and ... guess what? I get her pregnant again. Jesus, I’m a fertile bastard. So I remarried, this time to the first woman I ever loved and after some usual christmas stuff (my boss kidnapping my pregnant wife, using her as his little bitch and using her to get to me, leading up to an arrest by the police on him and Mary’s waters breaking on live TV) our first daughter was born.
There. That’s it. I’m done. Too tired to do any fucking more.
The end.
Sleepy sleepy awesome future dreaming time now. Bobbye reader, you better have fucking appreciated this.
