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Welcome Reality
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Topic Started: Feb 22 2014, 06:53 AM (67 Views)
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The Duke
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Feb 22 2014, 06:53 AM
Post #1
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- Posts:
- 19
- Group:
- Members
- Member
- #596
- Joined:
- January 28, 2014
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There is always a reason, a story behind the man you become. Good intentions, just trying to survive, one way or the other -we are all different people throughout our lives. It's just important to remember the people we've been along the way. Take, for instance, Duke McCoy. In this moment we may look upon him and disregard him as nothing more than a crazed coked out maniac. But there is more to the story. The man he was, was not the man he is.
It used to be, actually, that he was your average mild-mannered but overqualified High School Chemistry Teacher. Then he was diagnosed with cancer, and because we lack Canada's stellar health coverage, he was forced to sell Crystal Meth to provide for his family.
Wait a God Damn Minute. That's like, the plot to Battlestar Galactica or something!
Well, okay. Maybe you don't need to know Duke's story after all. It doesn't really matter. The man he is now, is the only man that matter. The Duke of NEW Era, has arrived.
"Razzle my Dazzle, bitch."
And here is the man himself. Brother in Law to NEW Era owner, Randy Altzer. One of many siblings to RAW's wife, Bonnie McCoy. There's only like twelve of them, as it were. The McCoy parents had been a busy couple, back in the day. Bonnie got her whoring skills from somewhere, after all. Duke was just the odd duck in the group. Always had been.
"Woo Woo Woo, you know it!"
And as the odd duck, he takes no shame in anything. Especially not appearing in Germany, dressed as NEW Era World Champion Romeo Stylez. A poor costume at best, I assure you, but it doesn't stop him from gelling his hair and rocking some trendy shades. Still has a lack of pants, but that's just kind of his thing.
"God it's good to be the Champ! Good to be a NEW Era Hero! Good to...--... to...--..."
Of course, Duke's never been one for consistency. He often forgets what he's doing in the middle of a sentence. Too much MTV, it rotted into his brain. Drugs didn't help, either. But it was mostly the fault of Carson Daly. That tool-bag was going to pay, someday.
"Oh hell, FUCK Razzle Dazzle!"
And like Superman to Clark Kent, Duke tosses the hand-me-down attire, retreating back into his own persona. Or rather, the closest thing he had to a persona. Since he happened to think he was several different people at any given time...
"Is THIS what passes for fucking COOL in this company? Aye Aye, captain, shiver me timbers. Shirley, you must be joking!
No...? You're serious?
...
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
And sometimes it's not really clear whether or not Duke is trying to tell you something, or having a conversation with himself. Most of the time it's a mix of both.
"Alright, alright. Let me get started on this little rant of mine. See, I've been doing a little paying attention in the past couple of days. Not much, mind you, but just a little. See, winning my last match against Ken-doll made me start to think a few things. Mostly about how I was going to get off the god damned island and escape the smoke monster. But then I turned my attention toward NEW Era. And I was like, well, how do I make an impact? Sex tapes always sell, sure. But I recorded over my last video with Paris Hilton. So I needed something else. I needed to do my research. So I watched the tapes. Stopped and watched some porn. The kind with goats. And watched some more tapes. And you know what? It's funny how the colors of the real world only seem really real when you viddy them on the screen."
Then again, most of the time, you can tell when Duke just spaces out and is somewhere else entirely. As we take a long, dramatic pause, Duke is in fact on a different planet. Fighting alongside a giant tree man, a raccoon, and a slutty green bitch.
He's been watching too many movie trailers, lately. Damned Hollywood.
As we return, Duke can't help but smile to himself.
"Point I want to be making is, we were all feeling a bit shagged and fagged and fashed. I just wanted to make the biggest splash. Evolve in Gyarados, and starting fucking with people's shit. You know, what I'm good at. A bit of the old ultra-violence and whatnot.
Thing is, when you're up to no good, and I general am, it's best to direct such behavior into a positive direction. So I spent a little timey wimey on the ol' telly watching the viddy tube and reflecting upon the grand cosmos of everything to where my direction would best lie."
In case we aren't clear by now, Duke is nuts. Duke is so fucking crazy that Bonnie appears a sweet innocent girl in comparison. That's pretty fucking nuts.
"And just like my favorite band, the only direction was one direction."
See? He's a One Direction fan.
Fucking. Crazy pants.
"Right to the tippity toppity! You see NEW Era has these Champions, and I'm sure they've worked really hard and everything. I'm sure they've proven themselves. That's why they have groupies and t-shirts and consistent paychecks and all that good stuff. But I just... I just can't behind it! And trust me, there ain't a lot that ol' Dukey won't get behind.
Take little RoRo Your Boat, for instance. Good lad and everything. I bet he did his homework in school, went to the prom, kissed a couple of girls -and then got them home before ten o'clock. You know, good boy stuff. Not like me, but hey. To each his own, right? But... but..."
Another Duke likes to do is bust out crazy kung fu moves, for no good reason. Kind of like Mac, from Always Sunny in Philadelphia, only with a slight more chance of killing someone in the process. See, he thinks he's Raphael from the Ninja Turtles at least a half hour in any given day. And so we interrupt this promo for some teenage mutant ninja turtle action. Minus the Michael Bay explosions.
...
And we're back, like nothing ever happened.
"BUT FUCK THAT, AND FUCK DUCK DYNASTY. Little Ro Peep wrestles like he took lessons from a hooker in his car! He probably drove right up to one and asked politely, 'Why, miss Hooker Bitch, how do you take multiple men at the same time? You look like a pro, and I just suck at it.' Can't you just visualize that? I can, and it gets me hard. Hard enough to want to give this entire federation an enema!
Which, frankly speaking, this company needs.
Because Do you even lift, RoRo, ain't the only one I got my sights on. You got Champions in here like Trenton Page. Tommy Zeller. Oh, don't even get me started on that boy. Mr. Look At Me, I'm on Meth. What a fucking rank amateur, that one. News Flash, we're all on drugs, okay? Or at least we should be. Drugs are fucking fantastic. But it's best to have a little class about it. Have a little character, you know. You don't walk into a bar and order the piss water expecting to get laid, after all.
You fucking own the room with a p99, rock the bow tie, speak a little british, and ask the panty-less waitress for a shaken and not stirred. The sky is falling, mate. You gotta get with the times. Which is why the Duke is here."
And even when he's lucid, he never makes much sense. It's part of his charm. You get used to it.
"Yeah, I beat an Obvious Troll in a dark match no one cared about or saw. Way I figure it, that makes me the next World Champion. So the Duke has been thinking. It's time for the Duke Dynasty. It's time to splash like Magikarp, and flail my dick as far as it'll go. It's time to take over. And I'm looking at each and every one of you. Hide yo' kids. Hide yo' wife. I'm cummin' all over you bitches! Which one will it be first? I haven't made up my mind yet. But trust me. When I cum, you won't feel a thing. And that's the Gospel, According to Duke. Preach it, brotha.
RIZZLE DIZZLE!"
And then he puts the glasses back on, flaps his arms like wings, and takes off.
...
I take it back. You don't get used to it. You don't get used to it all. That's just Duke.
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