Where the fuck do I even begin with this set of dried, out, cracked, bleeding, infected, festering assholes?
This is basically every single fuckwit in DTW that thinks "Okay, no rules. So I'm going to get my asshole friends to but in and win the match for me. Because I'm a sad waste of human ejaculate that thinks all that matters is winning matches."
All my inbred, panty-sniffing, "staring at the orange juice on the counter because it says concentrate" rivals are here!
Rapey Dwarf Riddick, good ol Stone Cold Steve Autism who managed to make himself so goddamned vile that Twitter perma-banned his account. Congrats, you disgusting incel tendie-chomping edgelord. The Cheetoh-in-Chief still has his goddamned Twitter account even after he used it to basically threaten wiping out a whole fucking nation, and yet you managed to out-dump the Trump.
Teiji Shintaro, our resident Tyler Durden obsessed nihilistic shitgibbon. Who decided that instead of standing out by being Awesome McCooldude, Flippyshit Highspotsinov, or Strongstyle O'FightingSpirit, he's going to get attention by being the grossest human being possible and share all his bodily excretions with his co-workers and everyone within a 30-yard radius of the ring.
And Shouty Dwarf Dick Devereaux, who during the legal trouble induced offseason decided to take a belt sander to the bit of himself that actually made him interesting. Instead decided to be yet another angry, bald shouty guy.
Out of DTW's original set of angry, beardy guys you two are the only ones left. As Baldy Dwarf and Stinky Dwarf were put out to pasture. And Lanky Dwarf, Matt Acid, is still kinda-sorta around, but was never actually angry and included to be the skinny, weird one that was the Dopey analog to the bunch of angry, beardy, mostly baldies.
And I still think there are too many of you motherfuckers.
I mean Riddick is basically Dick Devereaux, except with the attention whore tendencies cracked up to eleven. "What? Nobody is paying attention to me? Better says something abhorrent about the local population that would likely get me shanked in a dark alley or threaten to rape somebody."
And Dick Devereaux is basically a better behaved Riddick. Do you want all the entitled, bitter, grouchy outrage but none of the race baiting, sexual harassment, or occasional sexual assault? Well, then good 'ol DeeDee is your man!
I mean I smacked Riddick so hard on the face I gave him a big red welt the size and shape of my goddamned hand then yanked his fucking hockey jersey off and put it on Devereaux like he was the world's ugliest dress up doll.
I couldn't tell the difference!
THE CROWD COULDN'T TELL THE DIFFERENCE!
We all chanted "Which one's Riddick? Which one's Dick?"
Good times.
I mean they're basically the male genitalia version of that children's joke about Pete and Re-Pete in a boat, and Pete fell out, and who was left?
I'm fucking sick of this particular pair of chucklefucks and their annoying, obnoxious, disgusting, asshole friends.
I actually sat down and did the math, because I keep going "Ugh, these fuckers again."
Pre-Carnage Carnival, I've had exactly THREE GODDAMNED MATCHES that didn't involve a member of the Odd Squad or Ultraviolence Union.
If you take out the Blood Bowl Team Tournament, do you know who I'm left with?
MY ONLY GODDAMNED MATCH NOT INVOLVING ONE OF THESE ASSHOLES IS THE DIRTY'S DARTS THING WERE I FOUGHT MOTHERFUCKING JUMPIN' JIM LUZZATTO.
My debut on the inaugural DTW show I fought Riddick's goddamned crazy-ass mum and beat her ass so hard I unfucked her brain damage. And then Riddick went and re-fucked her again. That seems to be a thing with Riddick, since he did admit on twitter to sexually molesting an aunt with emphysema or something.
Then it was Jersey Jim on Dirty's Darts, and then what? A BEST OF MOTHERFUCKING INFINITY SERIES INVOLVING AT LEAST ONE OF RIDDICK, DICK, AND TEIJI UP UNTIL THE MOTHERFUCKING BLOOD BOWL, WHERE I FACED RIDDICK AND HIS RACIST PRICK PAL NARWIN IN THE FINALS!
Nate Narwin, the world's dumbest motherfucking nazi whose brains are going to be splattered on the wall the moment the MIGHTY WHITEY REVOLUTION takes over because obviously, he's the enemy. He's got a goddamned jew-fro for cryin' out loud.
I keep running into these assholes, and I keep beating the fuck out of them. That's fine, I'm cool with that. It's therapeutic to beat the ever-loving fuck out of Riddick every few months.
The problem by now is that they've realized that they cannot fucking beat me. Riddick had to be scraped off the floor by Shakur Williams, who has decided to be a Medicine-Kin and renamed himself to I AM EX-LAX, and had his nearly dead ass literally shoved up the ladder to grab the belts after he and Narwin basically got fucking murdered.
And Devereaux? Apparently, his idiot brother that can't achieve erection without an Insane Clown Posse song in the background discovered cocaine and horse steroids and has actually managed to be somewhat threatening with his chemical-induced roid rage.
That is in between bouts of not brushing his teeth and licking the floor of the Lance Burton Theater after the Interntaional Gathering of Stinky Feet Fetishists was in town. Because that's the main thing I remember from Lobo's interference. Just how goddamned bad his breath was.
Look, I used to clean monsters out of sewers. I've faced literal zombies, and not people with the last name Zombie (of which there seem to be way too fucking many, cause none of y'all are actually zombies, so fuckin' stop it) and flesh-eating ghouls.
I'm no stranger to foul smells.
But man, Lobo, you've got some fucking nasty garbage breath. Knock a buzzard off of a meat wagon grade bad breath. If it was any worse you'd basically be exhaling a green-yellow cloud of toxic ick that inflicted ALL THE STATUS EFFECTS at once, here.
You marched your polka dot pantalooned, big shoed-ass down to the ring and fucked with my match.
Look, how fucking grotesque is it that out of all y'all fuckers on Team Dumb and Ugly that TEIJI FUCKING SHINTARO is the one with clean hands here? His hands are probably covered in a mix of his own, shit, blood, and semen and if they aren't he probably pissed on them to get the crust off so he couldn't be tracked by the line of filthy handprints on the walls or something.
But you know what? This is exactly what I wanted. All you fuckers in one place, none of your asshole friends left to interfere.
Three weeks out from the end of the league phase of the Carnage Carnival, still nursing your wounds from the trauma of having eleven goddess-damned deathmatches in 20 days.
Hell, I think the sheer violence from the event's driven poor Johnny Vachon to level up to Drunken Bastard 5 and has his eyes set on the Traumatized Drunk prestige class. I think the poor son fo a bitch's got PTSD from all the beatings he got during the goddamned tournament only to end up with a paltry six points and cement his status as Dick Deveraux's fuckboy.
Sorry, Drunky Drunkerton, but your newly found ability of Stage Two Requires Alcohol To Get Through The Working Day isn't going to protect you from my wrath.
You decided to pucker up and press your lips against Devereaux's ass, interfered in a match that forced a draw so your egotistical Uruk-Hai boss man could have a chance at having a chance to blow YET ANOTHER DTW World Championship title opportunity.
So, Johnny-boy, how does sucking on a big white Orc ass suit you, hmm? Is it fun? Do you like it? Do you enjoy having to shine Lobo's gigantic fucking clown shoes? Do you have to wash his ridiculously patterned boxer shorts? How about his never-ending string of spankerchiefs?
What the fuck do you get out of the deal, Johnny? Because Devereaux hates your fucking guts. He hates his brother's fucking guys, he hates the fact that the Odd Squad even exists, he hates that he's even a fucking part of it.
And yet he still doesn't tell you all to fuck off. Because Lobo's got a fondness for his brother. He probably keeps it in a jar in the back of his goddamned clown car, but he still fucking has it.
He knows that as long as he doesn't kick Lobo to the curb, Lobo will help keep his sorry ass winning matches through interference, and will help out in schemes like the bullshit y'all pulled on Night 11 of the Carnage Carnival.
You fucking kidnapped TSUDA to force me into a draw, and then you went out and got your ass beat like a fuckin' rug, Johnny.
Devereaux is going to throw you to me on a silver fucking platter so that by the time I get to him I'll have already pulverized one ass and won't be so greatly pissed off that I leave him in chunks splattered around Ryogoku Sumo Hall.
He's going to feed you to the fucking wolves, or in this case the dragons, in order to lessen the beating on his own ass.
You're sure this is somebody who you want to pal around with?
Him and his fucking useless clown brother?
Because Lobo is sure as shit useless at being a goddamned clown.
Is he funny? Fuck no, he isn't funny. As a part of the rebranding Two-Tongue Tony took the funny bits out behind the circus tent, and then blasted them into a slurry with a goddamned shotgun.
So that means he's a scary clown then, right? Fuck no, he isn't scary either. All he does is beat the shit out of people, just like any other wrestler. He's not any more violent or creative or entertaining or gruesome or frightening than other Deathmatch wrestlers like Avoncalling Zombie or Erik Holland or his own fucking brother.
So since he's not a funny clown or a scary clown, do you know what role that leaves him? The sad clown, and quite frankly he's doing pretty damned good at it.
The pitiful brute with mental health issues in a life of violence, bound to his brother who loathes him, forever seeking the true bond of loving family that has been denied him. With DeeDee shouting "FUCK BROTHERHOOD!" at the top of his lungs on Twitter.
And his whole clown act is also deserving of pity. He's not creative, he doesn't have a theme, he doesn't have a schtick, he's just a generic, violent monster clown.
I mean look at Claudia. She's also a clown, she's also equal parts ridiculous and gods-damned terrifying. She's basically a living cartoon character that themes her shit around swapping things out with stage magic and being cute and upbeat and chipper while also being so into giving and taking pain it makes the BDSM enthusiasts out there go "Hey, maybe you ought to take it down a notch."
She's basically Schrodinger's Clown in the fact that she exists in a quantum supposition of having to take her seriously while also not being able to take her seriously.
She's funny, scary, weird, and entertaining. All things that our resident Sad Clown is not.
Lobo's reduced himself to a generic store-brand hoss that tastes ever so slightly of circus peanuts, and it's a goddamned shame.
Is this what the Devereaux line does? Enter professional wrestling and then a year later surgically remove everything about themselves that make them stand out, be different, and appear interesting?
Because as much as I made fun of your shitty, illogical mini-movies, DeeDee, at least they were fucking something.
You and Lobo? You're at the point where all you are is basically smoldering with generic rage.
Which is why as a tremendous ankle as he is, if we had to get rid of one of the two generic bald angry fucks, I'd through Dick to the curb with his brother's goddamned hobo clown bindle and keep Riddick.
An ankle, by the by, is several feet lower than a cunt and lacks both the warmth and the depth of one.
Because even though the both of you are shameless attention whores that HAVE to be the center of attention, that HAVE to win, that HAVE to receive all the accolades even if you don't want the take the time to improve yourselves to the point where you can fucking earn them, Riddick at least is interesting about it.
Yeah, he's a fucking disgusting aunty-rapist who jerks off on people, has damned near cut his own dick off for a lark, who is currently stalking a woman, murdered his own mother, and does his best to be such an offensive fuckwit that he literally tries to start a riot every time he has a press conference.
But at least he makes things fucking interesting. Even if he's basically the kid in the back of the classroom screaming out cuss words and slurs so people will actually pay attention to him.
People will actually pay to see Riddick get his ass kicked because he's such an offensive fucknugget, and that's why I'd keep him over Devereaux.
Cause they both think they're entitled to things. I dunno, maybe Riddick's snorting some of that Roundup Ready MRA Red Pill Incel bullshit and thinks he's entitled to somebody else's lady parts.
Devereaux thinks that he ought to be DTW World Champion, despite the complete and utter obviousness in that he's had what? Three matches with me where he had the chance to win the championship and blew ever last frickin' one of them like he was his own brother chugging down the horse testosterone right from the tap?
Despite how goddamned good he thinks he is, in precisely ZERO of his fucking opportunities for contendership has he managed to accomplish one. He lost Deathmatch Demolition, he lost the Railway Rumble, and despite several metric fucktons of bullshittery, still couldn't manage to win the group stage of Carnival Carnage.
Face it, Dick, you don't have what it takes to beat me in a straight-up fight for the World Championship.
Hell, when I handed you a pity defense after you beat the fuck out of Riddick while he got his meds wrong and was taking the ol SCW Alumnis Emo Gothic Sad Bitch Pills and I gave you every chance to show your stuff and put me away, you couldn't do it.
You had sixty motherfucking minutes to get the job done, and you accomplish sweet fuck all.
"Oh but Kalinda," warbles your ugly Walter the Old Man Jeff Dunham Puppet looking scowly-faced ass, "You didn't win either!"
Yeah, thing is that's champion's advantage, motherfucker. I don't have to win, all I have to do is not lose.
And in the end, you got to look fantastic as somebody who could hang blow for blow with me for sixty goddamned minutes.
I thought you'd like that. I thought you'd be happy. I thought you'd have something remotely resembling satisfaction.
That you'd be happy with your draw, say "I fought the World Champion to a time limit draw, look at how fucking awesome I am!" and then wander off and do something else that didn't involve lusting after my title like an incel at an all-girls' high school.
How many times are you going to bang your bald-ass fucking head up against this brick wall, Dick?
Because you do realize that after the bullshit you've pulled, I'm never letting you have another World Title match out of the goodness of my fucking heart ever again, right?
Because you've abused my hospitality. You've ruined two goddamned matches that I was a part of because of your rage-boner for the DTW World Heavyweight Championship.
And because you've shown you're not as good as the other guys, you sure as hell aren't going to win one on your own merits.
Back when we had less than a dozen people on the roster, Dick, you were one of the big men on campus.
But now? DTW has grown, DTW has blossomed, and the depth of DTW's talent roster has blown right the fuck by you.
You're not standing head and shoulders above the competition around here anymore, DeeDee, and that pisses you off.
Savor this match, Dick, because it's the closest you're ever going to get to me and my DTW World Championship.
Maybe if you're lucky you can be Sammy's emotional support punching bag the way Riddick is mine, since she's decided to be my gatekeeper and all.
So I think that's just about everybody coated in verbal hot fire, with the exception of Teiji.
But what is there really to say about Teiji, really? It's not like he's done anything that's going to have any sort of lasting impact or value.
The nihilistic shitgibbon's even managed to actually take his wretched philosophy to the eventual end that I've always said ought to come from such a repugnant, immature, world-loathing lifestyle.
I told him the first time we fought if this world is such an awful place, if you don't give enough of a shit about yourself to even practice the basic hygiene practices the gods gave to fucking sewer rats, why don't you just end it? Why don't you just kill yourself?
And he's promised that he is. That by this time next year, he'll be no more.
He's planning to off himself after one last match with Riddick.
Teiji Shintaro doesn't matter to me, because Teiji Shintaro doesn't even matter to his own fucking self.
He's decided that his life is no longer worth living, and I fully support him in this endeavor.
The world will be a better place without him.
And quite frankly the kindest thing I could do for him would be to beat him so fucking badly that the pain makes him accelerate his schedule.
And hey, the sooner he slits his throat or fellates a shotgun, the sooner I can reanimate his corpse and have it walking around planting community pantry gardens, picking up litter off the highway, and reading stories to orphaned children.
In life he's decided to have nothing but a legacy of filth and pain.
In death I'm going to make sure that his burning soul is going to be screaming in rage over the kindnesses I make his flesh perform.
The wonders of being a necromancer, kiddies.
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