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Here Lies Extermination; Dialogue is overrated...
Topic Started: Dec 10 2011, 04:58 AM (210 Views)
Trevor Hyatt
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"Simple & Proud"
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Basic instructions before leaving earth.Life is a test, many quest the universe.-The Genius


There’s nothing left to do but walk out with my head lowered, sinking in the stares of the media and people wondering if I am a Drug Kingpin. I’ve lived my life in crime for the better part of my life but in a few short years I was reborn. But no matter what I try to do the past will always resurface. Hell, I can shoot this piece of shit down a million times & it’ll rise up like Freddy Krueger. The feeling I have deep in my soul lingers as they load me up into the prison van after a long flight back to New Jersey. The scenery is a little relaxing besides its New Jersey the place of my birth. I remember growing up my pops and moms were always harassing me to get a real job.


I thought taking the easy way out would be more sufficient like I was very fond of short cuts. Because it was always easier to cheat than to face the hardships of life no matter what. Shit, I even recall myself cutting niggas tires up before bike races just to win for an easy ten bucks. Of course eventually cheating turns into allotted drug trafficking, extortion and even murder. The charges like my lawyer Ted E. Bear stated won’t stick. But knowing that I’ll see the inside of prison will make the legal system happy for the time being. They assure themselves that come trail time March twenty twelve I’m going to stay in prison for a long time after. I’m going to let these bastards bath in their own false visions of grandeur. I’m not worried about the inevitable with Team Priest right now I’m thinking about what’ll happen on the inside.


I refused to be stuck into a corner because I’m some rich celebrity I’m going to be in regular population. I can’t let them think I’m too good to be around most of those lowlifes but some of them actually I knew of. Max B a fellow rapper was currently serving 75 years life for a robbery gone wrong in which he killed a mother fucker. Knowing our career paths he may show me some respect or not it depends. He was born in Harlem, New York and some New Yorkers are slightly stubborn. Not blinking once as we drove up toward my short luxurious getaway spot the New Jersey state penitentiary. What lied ahead was a voyage down a deep, dark tunnel which supported my feet toward the opening via a condemned bridge. Seeing as if the bridge were to fall then they’d be no more Christian York & they’d be no more top draw of the company I represent.


Not only did my arrest embarrass many but it put a damper on things with certain individuals soured upon the news. My various business ventures are withholding further acquisitions until my legal matter is resolved. The only job to my name besides going back behind the microphone and running my label is being a New Era wrestler. My sins stretch into the unknown like poisonous vines amongst society killing all that has ever loved me. Will I lie down for my cause to die in Self Immolation? Or Will I repent my sins then delve deeper into my subconscious for a deeper message? My dad once got me a dog when I was eight years old two years before my sister Katherine was born. The dog was a German shepherd that I called G.L. after the initials of George Lucas as I was a fan of his when I was younger.


One day me & G.L. Had come upon an old junkyard, which was barren except for this older white male. The white man was carefully unloading his pickup truck of random sacks like the one Santa Claus supposedly carries around. Well as a curious little boy I & G.L. looked for an adventure through those bags but found assorted body parts. The white male was a serial killer named Oswald Kate who worked under Ricardo Santiago at that time when I was just eight years old. The seedy underworld that entrapped me later on in my life was always in my backyard. My pastor simply exclaimed one sermon that “Satan lives right in your neighborhood but it’s your job not to look him up.”


If I hadn’t looked up Satan then I’d of never met Eve and she would have never conceived our two gorgeous sons. So things worked out for the better, impending investigation aside right? I come to think things worked out all in my favor as I’m now an A-list caliber entertainer who came from nothing much but table scraps, a leaky roof & clothes from the Salvation Army™. I don’t think of myself as some big hot shot who knows everything but I do know that through this unknown circumstances I’ll survive them. My head lowered as the fellow inmates whistled as I was escorted to my cell holding my standard blanket etc. In my cell was my cellmate aforementioned rapper Mel B.


I knew the warden of this place would try to be cute and put me up in normal population with a man who shares my same career path. But I wasn’t the stupid individual to pull a crime after already making top dollar. But face it if you were this piece of shit artist making the type of dough he made then you’d rob anyone any day of the week. I hear what sounds like rats over my shoulder on the outside of the cell. Well the cell was like it always was with the two bunk beds, one toilet, busted up sink & mirror. I didn’t come to many terms being here but it was general knowledge that I’d be out once the pay per view comes around to do my civil duties. You see it was more than justifiable to see the inside for a glimpse of what may be my future come March.



But with a top notch legal team headed by Ted E. Bear that scenario played very thin like a vanilla wafer. Hopefully this little vocation doesn’t take away what makes me who I am. I am a man who normally adapts to things around me easily. But who knows how I’ll adapt to this newfound place of guilt and great restraint. The great unknown is kind of scary when it appears for the first time but the trick is to picture it as something else less frightening. People claim that they’ll amount to something yet they continuously fall flat upon their faces, with nowhere to turn too. I have egg on my face from the turbulent issues at hand but I’m not going to suffer through the hardships forever. I will eventually dig myself out from that shallow grave that the feds have given to me. I won’t rest until what I’ve been dealt is returned in my favor to them ten times fold. Thoughts are running away again as I fix up my bed and stuff before a down trodden lunch. The crappy food was a common necessity to bear and the fact I’ve not spoken for quite some time got to some inmates. They eyed me as if I had finally snapped and they were absolutely right. I wasn’t totally in the dark from utilizing my perks to get something most inmates don’t have. I walk into the high quality therapy session with Dr. Ernest McLain who’s one of the top therapists out of California. McLain was an elderly white man about sixty or so and stood about 6 even. I sat down right across from him as he offered me coffee but I refused at first. I then smell Starbucks™ though which is a scent my nostril has not smelled for a while now. So I got myself a cup and listened to him tell me of an importance to change my nature.


The same nature I’ve known for all of my life. I looked at him with unfulfilling eyes and no emotion. I got up and struck him with my fists relentlessly giving him a severe beating. My fists reigned down while a guard stood outside the door before the sessions began my therapist had told him to check in every half hour on this two hour first session. Well something in me snapped to a point I’m beating up a British therapist who now lives on the west coast of North America. Lifting up McLain by the collar my eyes bulge in a fit of rage as I toss him across the room into a book case as then the guard rushes in.



The lone guard makes me kneel upon the cold tile telling me to put my hands upon my head. I kick the legs out from under the guard yelling at him that McLain wanted me to change my nature and that this is my new conceived nature. My nature was more primal as I kicked into that guard with pent up frustrations till more guards came to restrain me. The guards proceeded to throw me into a hole where I’d spend god knows long in. The hole was more decrepit than the normal cell being barren and damp. I lay on the cold rotted concrete floor looking up at the ceiling reminiscing about old times. When life was way simpler a time when people didn’t need to suffer because they all understood a common purpose in life.



So as I sit maybe I’ll come to terms on why my transformation has to transpire into a ball of pent up anger and frustration. I remember in my last singles match to date I was out of it and I had suffered a loss to Jason Matthews. I wasn’t into the match as I’m not going to sit here acting like I’m not affected by this current run in with the law. He pinned a man who hasn’t been in it for a while now. It’s not that I don’t care but what do I have left when this is over. The fans will leave, my family will turn up their nose and everyone will seclude themselves from my presence. No matter what scenario plays up in my head the only way out was if I fight to hold on to the ones I love. No way was I’m going to give up the only thing that made me feel human when my transformation was inhumane. An inhuman configuration that wants to exterminate each and everyone within a fucking sixty mile radius, just because he can. I feel like the world will one day understand my actions as a man who was backed up into a corner, with this as my only option. Going through certain changes and approaching a head on collision into The Challenger Series. I will always feel guilty but it’s my duty to turn that guilt into something I can use against the impending victims of my Extermination. I remember the night after Fear Itself when my fiancée’ approached me about my hand in the death of her brother Dominique.


I told her that it was a sudden change of momentum when he was dying that I just put him out of his suffrage. She asked me whether I truly thought of him as a brother I never had or just someone to use like everyone I’ve come to meet. I didn’t have an answer so I left my Connecticut home haven’t be back home for a while now. Me & Eve haven’t spoken since the day after Fear Itself and she’s my fiancée. I’m not asking for much sympathy but I’m asking for forgiveness for all I’ve done within my life that has ended in much tragedy. All I can hope is that I can stand strong enough to help a man who shits on couches, a dude obsessed with love, and two ex-convicts to a win next Sunday. The cold handcuffs didn’t hurt my pride that much when they clapped them on me. But it hurt my psychologically calmness awakening a side of me off hinges. The extermination shall march forward to devour the Bedazzler™ loving tool Romeo Stylez, Robbie Priest, Jack Erickson, Raymond Hughes & the North American champion Hisoka.


Chuckling across the cold concrete floor at the thought of battering that fucking clown so bad that I’ll be treated to a title shot was rewarding to my disturbed psyche. The mental scars run deeper than the deepest ravine known to man. My love for this sport has me still standing here trying to make do with lemons to make a brand new pitcher of lemonade. But what will be the inevitable price? How much will you pay just to get that newfound lemonade? The one I poured all the time to make and rekindle for your refreshing enjoyment. I make you Aw more than critics do at me doing my same song & dance in an eighty show concert. My mind is the main thing that shall be known to be the strongest on my body. I will outthink the best of them to always excel beyond their known expectations. So be prepared for the moment that Simba steps upon his pride to maul down Team Priest in a rage of unseen fortune. Here lies extermination and when I’m down they’ll be nothing left…






FIN
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