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Salt and Pepper
Topic Started: Nov 6 2017, 08:23 PM (57 Views)
airkiddo
Amateur
BONFIRE NIGHT
Glasgow, Scotland

The crafted logo of a Blue Moon lager bottle absorbs the entire camera, before the zoom pans out to welcome a sweaty Kurt Kiddo. His hands are filled with the glass bottle in one and a microphone in the other; stood in front of a non-descript background with heavy lights flooding his face. Beneath his grisly salt-and-pepper beard, Kiddo is smiling

Kurt Kiddo: Scotland! How do you do? Such a fine country. You know, I really love Glasgow - it's the one city in the world where every other man looks like me. Are you really Scottish without a tinny in hand, and more hair on your titties than you got on your head? If we all banded together and donated our head hair, I reckon we could fill that awkward hairless patch on Sylvia Wrath's chest.

Kiddo presses the bottle to his lips and swigs from it; swallowing before letting out a refreshing breath.

Kurt Kiddo: Mmm. Everything tastes better in glass.

A smidgen of froth is perched on Kiddo's upper lip; but he quickly dashes it off with a swipe of his hand.

Kurt Kiddo: I've been watching the bonfires, boy now that's a sight to behold. What a marvel, a good fireworks display just can't be beaten. Since we're on that topic, let's talk about me. Myself. Kurt Kiddo, for the ladies without men... and the ones with. Folks, I want to talk about where I stand today. I want to talk as a man with fight in his belly, but nobody to fight; I'm going on record and saying that, at Christmas Carnage, I'm laying down a challenge open to the whole PRW roster. In reality, behind the glitz of the camera I've already put that out to the guys; but nobody wants to be man enough to lace it with me. I need to go public with this and tell you - tell you all, all of you - categorically, that this whole company is riddled with cowards.

The Salem native raises a finger to his nose and scratches the bridge, pursing his lips as he does so. He keeps paused for a moment, for that sweet effect, before continuing.

Kurt Kiddo: PRW's on weak legs. Big boy Joey spouts off on Twitter every week saying this roster can't talk. Write this down folks - I'm saying they can't walk neither. I spoke upstairs asking for a place on the card, and the boys are scrambling to find me a fight but the options - they're just not there! Can we appreciate that your 'champion' spends more time polishing his reflection in the mirror than he does his repertoire in a wrestling ring? Ace, my man, you're a talented mother but you throw down at the casino more than the areno. The biggest bluff you called was having us believe you were a legitimate champion. Give me fifteen minutes to freakin' throw down with him and I'll have grinded enough rust to give Mars a new coat of paint.

Flaming hot shots every time old man Aries cracks his joints in the ring. Somebody PLEASE give that man some WD40, I don't think human bones are supposed to squeak like that. While you're at it, take that man's dentures. He sure as hell can't be tweeting all that himself - my mom can't even work a mobile phone, and I could have sworn Aries was there in the delivery room debating the art of the hammerlock. And Joey was right there with him, screaming, pushing out the first baby born from butt sex.


Kiddo places the Blue Moon aside on a large box off to the side of the camera, and in his hands he brings forward a baby doll; clad in a messy, greyed wig, a very crudely drawn on beard, and most importantly the prettiest, pinkest, most frilliest little dress.

Kurt Kiddo: It's a girl - let's call her Sean Jr.!

Kiddo squeezes the doll cutely to his face, before positioning it back on the box it came. Dolls have feelings too!

Kurt Kiddo: I think, more than anything, I'm just... confused. PRW's reputation is immaculate. That's why I came here. It's the real pinnacle of professional wrestling, but actually under wraps everything is unravelling. This company pushes decrepit, doddering old sacks of dog turd - The Inquisitor, how old is that man? 60? 80? My grampy looked better in his open coffin, and that's the man they're putting into title fights? That's light work for John Bane!

Ah! Bane, Bane, Bane. Sure enough he's a fighter; as real as they come. But I can't tell if he's really good, or if the level here has really stooped so lowly. Though, you can only beat what's in front of you.

But I know he doesn't want that.


FINITO
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KURT KIDDO (6-0)

JOHN MONTANA (1-1)
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