[No Limits went belly up, that sort of thing tends to happen when your owner goes all Charlie Sheen on yea. But collecting unemployment isn't on the top list of things to do for good ol' BADASS. What is everyone's favorite anti-hero doing?]
[Getting his entourage into fighting shape, this ragtag bunch is the future! BA gotta get his team into fighting shape! What, were you expecting something else?]
THURSDAY MORNINGBAD ASSHey....HEY!!! PFFFTTTT!!!![Screams BAD ASS, following with a whistle blow as Poof Puff, Fairy, Lord Virgin, and AIDS gather around to trade Magic: The Gathering cards. The shrill squeal of the whistle makes them jump, then proceed to stuff their cards in their pants. Before them stands BAD ASS, decked out in a Monster flat bill hat, a Jack Daniels hoodie, Tapout shorts, and the usual DC shoes which he’s still not making a dime on. They’re just comfortable.]
BAD ASSThe fuck you all doing?AIDSUm, trading sir.BAD ASSTrading? The fuck you trading for when you should be training! Why in the hell do you think I cattle prodded you out of bed? For fun? I mean sure, on any other day but today we train![Lord Virgin and AIDS try to sneak away, but that ear drum splitting whistle of his jolts them still.]
BAD ASSJust where in the hell do you think you’re going?AIDS I...um...Lord VirginWe were just going to...BAD ASS Go blow each other? Not on my watch queens. In fact, you two are hereby my assistant trainers, and as such you will assist me in the act of training. Your first act of assistance is a one minute round of slap boxing.[Whipping out a stop watch, BAD ASS clicks it, yelling...]
BAD ASSGO!![The teens get to work, slapping each other with the proficiency of retarded girl toddlers. As they slap away, BAD ASS turns his attention to Poof Puff and Fairy.]
BAD ASSSo you fags ever watch Training Day?Poof PuffDude that movie is awes....FairyI got that movie on Blue...BAD ASSYeah I don’t want to hear about how you two freeze framed Denzel in his tank top and coated your HD LCD’s with plasma. In one day you two will watch me beat the living shit out of a pot smoking, cheech and chong idolizing, motherfucking monkey. I will give you three challenges, and with each challenge a winner will be decided. The bitch to out-bitch the other bitch will be declared the man in the team, while the loser will be his bitch. So at least one of you will have your very own Jannetty to fetch you a water bottle and rub you down after each match. Something to look forward to, eh?BEEP BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP BEEP, BEEP BEEP...[With the stop watch stopped, AIDS and Lord Virgin retreat from each other, red faced and slouched over from the fight of their lives.]
BAD ASSGod I’m so glad I didn’t make you my tag team back when we were turning tricks for Nick. Well, lets get started shall we?TRAINING DAY: SESSION 1[We pick back up in the back lot of what looks to be a convenience store. A stack of milk crates and flattened out cardboard beer cases give it away. The camera swivels to one side, showing that the opening to the lot has been sealed off with mounds of filled black garbage bags. Stepping onto scene are Fairy and Poof Puff, both looking scared shitless as they have not a clue as to what torture BAD ASS has in store for them. As they walk further into the lot we see T-bone steaks stringed up to the back of their asses, dangling with each careful step. At the end of the cement corridor is three large animal crates. Six feet in front of them is a red chalk line, signifying the starting line. Scratching and clawing can be heard coming from the crates, causing those worried faces to flip back to BAD ASS.]
BAD ASSDon’t fucking look at me, get your asses to the red line now!![The steaks sway too and fro with each step as they make their way towards the starting line. Coming from behind are AIDS and Lord Virgin, who position themselves in between the animal crates. Lord Virgin grabs the tops of two of the cages while AIDS grabs one. They look up to BAD ASS, awaiting the cue as Poof Puff and Fairy shiver in fear at the starting line. A small puddle of piss starts to form in Poof Puff’s tarp-like gray gym pants.]
AWOOOW!!! A-A-A-AWWWWWOOOOOOOO!!!WOOOOOOOO!!!![You get the point. Anyways the mysterious creatures start howling in unison, causing Fairy to join the urine party as his slim fit stone washed jeans get a bit of color on them.]
BAD ASSARE YA READY?!? GET SET....[Both Poof Puff and Fairy get in their best running stances.]
BAD ASS GO!!![With a whistle blow the gates are lifted, and out from their confines come three coyotes that BAS ASS shot with tranquilizer darts up in the mountains earlier this morning. Smelling that rich meaty smell drifting from the boys’ behinds, the coyotes race out of their pens like Del Mar horses, charging after the kids as they huff and puff their way down the back lot.]
AIDSCOME ON GUYS YOU CAN DO IT!!!LORD VIRGINYEAH GO TEAM BAD ASS!!! Thank god we didn’t get picked.[AIDS nods to the last part whispered as Poof Puff is the first to get nabbed. One coyote snags that T-bone, and another latches onto the other free end, tugging so hard that Poof Puff topples to the ground. In the process of chomping away at the steak they dig into Poof Puff’s meaty ass, causing him to scream in terror.]
BAD ASSNow come on Poof Puff stop goofin’ around, you’re losing this race!! Get your fat ass up and walk it off.[He can’t walk, much the less roll over as the two coyotes ravage that steak and ass. Meanwhile Fairy is meters away from crossing the finish line, however a tug stops him in his tracks. He tries to pull against the lone coyote chew toying away on his stringed steak, hoping to break the string. However BAD ASS used piano wire bonded with super glue, making sure that steak stuck. With one coyote already having his fill off Poof Puff's ass steak, he rushes over to Fairy, tugging the boy onto his back. This time the coyotes go for something much more tender, like his apricot scrubbed arms. Bloody murder screams cause BAD ASS to run over with a cattle prod and zap off both coyotes, knocking them unconscious. He does the same to Poof Puff’s ass biter, blasting him in the face. BAD ASS then looks to Fairy and AIDS, who look frightened to the bone.]
BAD ASSBandage their asses and arms up, the day has just begun.AIDSWhat about the coyotes?BAD ASSEh, leave em’. Los Angeles could use a few more feral dogs biting the population.Lord VirginDon’t you think that the guys should be getting rabies shots?BAD ASSWhatever. Take them to the damn hospital but make it snappy. I’ll call up one of my hoes in the meantime.[With a phone flip BAD ASS gets to calling up chicks who would graciously take their teeth out before blowing you. The crew help up their bloody buddies as the scene fades.]
TRAINING DAY: SESSION 2[Opening up to the crowd at home is a beautiful view from the top of Hollywood hills. Crystal blue skies leave the city bathed in sunlight, leaving a spatter here, spatter there of sparking ponds across the vast scenery of mansions and foliage. With a camera tilt to the ground we see two boulders, each looking to average around one hundred pounds a piece. Another tilt upwards reveals the puzzled faces of Poof Puff and Fairy. Another camera tilt and we see BAD ASS standing there, mad dogging the boys.]
BAD ASSSo you bitches all better now that you got your sissy shots out of the way?[They nod their heads, even going to speak before BAD ASS stops that bad idea.]
BAD ASSNot a goddamn word. The next session of the day is a test of strength. If you’re going to be wrestling two hundred and sixty pound muscled out freaks like me that bench six hundred pounds, then you better get your strength up. Today we will test your strength without the hassle of costly gym fees or creepy homos taking cell phone picks of you. Just like back in the olden days, you tulips will toss boulders to build your strength. Whomever gets their boulder the farthest, wins. On your mark...[Both kids squat down, getting a firm hug around the rocks.]
BAD ASSGet set...GO!!![That scream causes the kids to lift, with neither of them being able to budge the heavy boulders. Fifteen seconds of failed struggling go by before Poof Puff starts to get his two inches off the ground.]
BAD ASSYou fucking pussies. I’d give those boulders the Harlem Globetrotter treatment before landing the ultimate three point shot right through Joan Rivers outdoor virgin blood rejuvenation jacuzzi. AIDS, Lord Virgin, help those bitches out.[AIDS goes to Poof Puff, barely helping him out as the curly headed marshmallow turns into a tomato about to burst. Fairy is finally able to budge it off the ground with Lord Virgin’s help, getting several inches up rather quickly. Seeing their rapid ascent, Poof Puff pushes as the twig arms of AIDS waver, hoisting the boulder up to crotch height.]
BAD ASSOH THEY GAININ’ ON YA!!! YOU GONNA WAIT TOO FAT BOY...FAT BOYEEE....WAIT UNTIL TOMORORRORORROOWWOWWOWOW!!!![BAD ASS’s terrible Silverchair rendition only makes Poof Puff work harder, struggling as AIDS looks ready to crumble. Lord Virgin and Fairy get their second wind, hoisting with all their might as they grunt and scream in pain. Finally Poof Puff reaches chest height, then hoists it off the hill, almost taking AIDS with him. If it weren’t for a good t-shirt catch, AIDS would be lying face down in Mel Gibson’s pool, much to his delight. He pulls AIDS back in, showing t-shirt retrieval skills the tag champs should take notes on. The boulder rolls down the hill, bouncing higher and higher as it tumbles off the green. Adding to it is Fairy’s boulder, which is a lot slower in gait and much more of a tumbler than a bouncer. With a good clay and grass mound to launch off of, Poof's boulder soars into the air and crashes through the roof of a mansion, even continuing it's journey right out a window. We hear a withered scream soon after as the boulder rolls to a firm stop against her wrought iron fence. Fairy’s boulder gets minimal air off the ledge, but does land an impressive lawn fountain smash as some stone ho gets her tits smashed in. Laughing from the exhausted boys and screaming from the residence commences, leaving a mad man to rush out into the streets and stare up at them.]
BAD ASSHOLY SHIT IT’S MEL GIBSON!! RUN!!![As burnt out as they are from the boulder hoisting, the boys book it quick as Mel Gibson screams while pounding those three dreaded digits into his cellphone. Soon after three gargantuan suited skinheads dart out of the house, piling into a white Humvee as Mel Gibson pulls out a bottle of Seagrams gin and hops behind the wheel. Fade to black.]
TRAINING DAY: SESSION 3[We come to the final chapter of this training session in what looks like an empty outdoor chain link storage shed. The five by twelve chain link enclosure is perfect for BAD ASS’s next plan. Especially with a cover of darkness to put on such illegal activities. The boys seem to have a feeling of what is going to happen after they witnessed BAD ASS padlocking them inside. Anxiety strums through their central nervous system, adding to the soreness and exhaustion of this hellish day. Both kids are running low on their adrenaline reserves, with no hope in sight of both of them emerging conscious. BAD ASS truly wanted to test their wills, and forever this day will stain their memories. Walking into the scene is BAD ASS, along with Lord Virgin and AIDS adorned with white towels over their shoulders.]
BAD ASSAlright you silly twats, you’ve made it this far, so now we’re gonna go for the gusto. With Fairy winning the steak ass race and Poof Puff winning the boulder toss, we now move onto the final round, the tie breaker. Only one of you will walk out the winner, with the other one going on to lick the dog shit off of the other one’s shoe. A lot is at stake bitches, so lets see some blood. Lord Virgin and AIDS will be standing by to throw in the towel for each of you respectively if they think your ass is getting beat too bad. Got it? Good. Get ready...[Usually he’d follow this by saying get set go, but instead he throws them a curve ball with an impromptu whistle blow. The two are hesitant to hurt each other right off the bat, bringing BAD ASS to encourage them.]
BAD ASS[colored]THIS IS A FIGHT TO THE DEATH!!! NOT A COMPETITION TO SEE WHO CAN GET HARD FIRST FROM STARING AT THE OTHER’S PACKAGE!!![/color]
[The typical homophobic comment from BAD ASS inspires them to push the pace a little as Fairy goes to give Poof Puff a girlish shove. However Poof Puff grabs onto Fairy, swinging him with him. Fairy turns the tides though and trips Poof Puff, leaving the fat ass to land on him and cause both of them to crash into the chain link. A huge spark blasts off the fence, knocking them both back several feet and out cold!!]
AIDSYou electrified the cage?!Lord VirginDAYUM!![A big smile curls up on his avian face as he stares at their smoking bodies. He then looks to AIDS and Lord Virgin, giving them a rare show of non-mean mugging.]
BAD ASSSo you guys wanna hit up the club?[Jubilant head nods follow as BAD ASS waves for them to follow. Just as their excited heads turn to each other to high five, BAD ASS shoves them into the fence!! Both of them crash off the links and slam back onto the ground, out cold as well.]
BAD ASS Don’t get mad boys...it’s tough love. I’m making men here bitches and fags. They’ll thank me for it later.[From the smoking backs of almost adults we go to the fading smile of BAD ASS. Standing amongst a brick wall, he removes his Jack Daniels hoodie and Monster flat bill, tossing them on the unconscious body of Lord Virgin. With that rare smile gone, BAD ASS turns his attention to the camera.]
I dislike you Flex. In fact lets take that up a notch, I hate you. And it has nothing to do with you being apart of a short list of minorities. Even though your loss record is amongst the highest of the all time losers, and the fac tthat your career has been over-shadowed by your ex, you still carry a name value which is dwindling by the day and you’re also one of the biggest assholes in IWF history. The acts you’ve committed both backstage and in-ring are classic defining heel moments in this fed. You are history buddy, barely living, somewhat breathing history. You’ve had your ass kicked by just about everyone. You should be thankful that this is pro wrestling and the good folks of IWF realizes that people pay good money to throw their beer cups at you. If this were MMA or any other legitimate sport you’d be working the indy circuit, collecting one hundred bucks for a concussion.
I used to think the crazy brainless pot head act was just that, an act to get over with the crowd. But the more I see you actin’ the fool on TV I realize that it’s not an act. There is no difference between Ryan Apollo and Flex Rogers. They’re both the same nutty nerdy neurotic nut suckers, trapped in the confines of one dilapidated battle worn excuse for a wrestler. I know you probably never went to wrestling school and just forged your way in, so let me school you. Losses equal bad. Losses equal you move down the totem pole. Losses equal people taking piss breaks when you come out. Since no one ever clarified that for you, I hope that helps. Make sure to tattoo it on your bronzed bird chest so you can look at something besides your jackal face each morning and remember why you will never EVER EVER get a World Title shot.
bro you couldn't even keep a fine piece of ass like Loca happy
And to think I used to think you were entertaining, But much like Sasha Gray’s acting, I can only enjoy someone getting their ass pounded in front of a camera so much before I get bored and turn the TV off. That’s what Flex was for me...a short lived joy. One of those guilty pleasures that I enjoyed for a bit until I realized there was no evolution of Flex Rogers. Just the same old jobber laying down for whomever needs their loss streak broken. His wrestling hasn’t changed one bit. He still has the standard move list of a 90’s high flying wrestler, look up Rey myserio and you got Flex's whole arsenal. When you really break down Flex Rogers you see more flying then wrestling. The only thing he can do decently is land punches and a wild kick which sometimes connect. Other than that it’s some of the most sluggish, blander than a tofu and rice cake sandwich ring work you’ll see stinking up the airwaves. But given he’s having a match with me, it’s already going to be exciting. Trust me, I will force that pot smoking and rap fueled lunatic to keep up at my pace. I’m going to push a performance out of him as if his name was loca
Ahh the glory days...when you were a rising star and the future. Wait, no you won't you were the guy jobbing to Matt Biggars
Fear not psychopath, for I will give your career that one big blip. Besides the little you have to offer name wise, you have a boxing/mma background from what I hear. Which is funny, because I too am a former Golden Gloves champion. But see, unlike you I went on to become the great white hope from Detroit, fighting some of the toughest certified thugs the streets could dig up. Meanwhile you probably battered geezers in retirement homes. I mean the whole state besides Miami is one big retirement home right? Whatever your former training, I hope you visit your old boxing coach because I’m gonna test your claim. Against a crisp, sharp, technical boxer like me you’ll be rope a doping in a punch drunk stupor before crashing to the canvas. I got some bite in these babies, and with no gloves homey you’re going to be counting stars with those lights.
It's sad you're just barely hanging on to a wrestling contract, hoping to make rent each month, even though working the curtain don't exactly pay enough. Hopefully with a new company, you'll get enough to break even on the three months you're due.
This is the best you're gonna get you piece of shit, so embrace it. Be lucky I wasted my time on a miserable worthless has been shithead like you.
Subject: Training Day 
Fri Mar 04, 2011 10:36 pm
