Post by Savage on Jan 13, 2020 19:07:47 GMT -6
When you have a crew under you, you end up responsible for their actions. Even if you had no knowledge of what they were doing, you, as a leader, are ultimately responsible for their conduct. Their conduct is a reflection of you, and when they fuck up...
It makes you look really, REALLY bad. Like you don't know how to maintain discipline in the ranks.
Despite so much success in GCWA and across both the wrestling and boxing world, Tony's had to deal with a lot of bullshit in the last couple of months. From racist fanatics trying to push him out of the business, to repeated sucker punches such as last Inferno, to the fact he has to spend what little free time he has dealing with wiping the stain of a former employee who decided to make false charges against a friend of his on Twitter, then, act like it was no big whoop, his golden path has been littered with potholes.
He's tried, with surprisingly Zen like patience, to let things slide. After all, jealousy and fear from others walk hand in hand with personal success.
But after Inferno, something black and nasty seeped back into his heart. Like a switch that dumped toxic sludge into his soul, Sunny Jim and Maddog's equally bitch ass brother woke a monster Tony had been trying for months to keep slumbering.
Plus, though he was not friends per say with Duce, seeing a rival who earned his respect, who's done nothing but be a benefit to the company get treated like an unwanted stepchild, all those factors rose the temperature to boiling point. Cherry on top of the shit sundae was when his wife told him about trent, a guy he hired to work bodyguard work, who turned out to have low morals and light fingers. When crew fucks up, it makes the leader look bad.
Tony doesn't like looking bad. After all, this guy does modeling work on Saturdays.
Now, an entire gene pool of rednecks was about to get a jug of bleach dumped on them.
Mark...
Yeah, fuck your moniker, Mark. It's the government name for this one...
To think I was actually proud of you. Last time we tangled, I made the mutt run under the porch. But look what he did after he pulled himself up back up. Beat Duce, won the N.A. Belt. You've been downright good. I had a lot of respect for you...
Until you let your idiot brother and that scum sucking parasite jack me before I could even say my goddamn piece.
One can't happen to notice Tony's in a garage. He's taking off his shirt, stripping down to a wife-beater, and he's got plastic sheets on the floor. Safe to assume he's not doing any painting, because he's playing with a set of brass knucks.
You let your crew creep without your permission. You may have had nothing to do with what they did, but you sure as shit didn't do anything to stop it. To me, that makes you just as guilty as your kinfolk and that sponge Jim.
Far as i'm concerned, you're just as guilty as Jim and Demon.
His wife walks in, the heels of her boots clacking across the plastic and concrete.
They brought him here, honey. Just waiting on you to let them in.
He nods. Cass looks just as heated as Tony. While he was gone for a few days touring, one of his people stole something from her while she was off at work.
It was a watch he had made for her by a jeweler in London for their first anniversary. Had all her favorite stones inserted in the bezels and everything. Beautiful piece. And it ended up in a pawn shop in Fort Worth. This was not going to end well.
You sure about this, babe? We could file charges or...
That wanker violated our home! He stole one of my favorite possessions. He pissed on everything we gave to him. Comes a time when it's no longer feasible to be civilized.
Damn. When wifey wants blood, things are fucked. Tony nods.
Just a moment. Already dealing with one piece of shit; the other one gets my attention soon.
*turns back to the camera* What Jim and your brother did, I'm holding you PERSONALLY responsible for it. What happens to them now is all on your head.
You shit clan done fucked around and got me back to the old me. The type of guy that'd go out of his way to fuck up your life. I don't want you or your family to eat anymore. I don't want them to be safe. I'm going to hurt Jim so bad, he'll wish his daddy didn't bust a nutt in his bag of white trash mother. Your brother, he's fucked.
Then, I'm busting you up and taking that fucking belt off of you for late fees.
Dallas is no longer safe for the Wright family. My people see yours, we're swarming on them. If we have to, we'll roll up to West VA. and burn your goddamn stills to the ground.
You may have not wanted war, but you have it now. And you fucks won't win...
You surviving it will be a goddamn miracle.
Alright, bring this asshole in.
Two of his guys, all with holsters stuffed with pistols, drag a man who's sobbing uncontrollably in to the room. They force him on his knees; he's blubbering and shaking. Tony kneels down, his teeth clenched in anger. One of his employees ask if Cass should be in the room. Her response...
Trent's got this shit coming, mate. I want to watch!
Goddamn, Trent. After I cleaned up that shit your dad got into; this how you do me?
Trent's weeping intensifies once his eyes catch those knucks slipping over the fingers of a professional wrestler, boxer, and straight up killer.
Jesus...*sobbing*...Tony...
Shushhhhh... His index finger presses against Trent's quivering lips.I ain't gonna kill you. C'mon. We don't kill unless we're authorized to. It's just...
You racked up a debt. You made me waste time on your bullshit. And my time is money.
I got....*sob...I got money...
If you did, you wouldn't be stealing from college teachers. Don't worry, we'll settle the balance right here and now.
I do hope for your sake you get used to eating through a straw for a bit, though.
He pulls his clenched fist back. Things go black, but the audio is still rolling...
And the story ends with the sound of metal repeatedly crashing against bone and meat.
It makes you look really, REALLY bad. Like you don't know how to maintain discipline in the ranks.
Despite so much success in GCWA and across both the wrestling and boxing world, Tony's had to deal with a lot of bullshit in the last couple of months. From racist fanatics trying to push him out of the business, to repeated sucker punches such as last Inferno, to the fact he has to spend what little free time he has dealing with wiping the stain of a former employee who decided to make false charges against a friend of his on Twitter, then, act like it was no big whoop, his golden path has been littered with potholes.
He's tried, with surprisingly Zen like patience, to let things slide. After all, jealousy and fear from others walk hand in hand with personal success.
But after Inferno, something black and nasty seeped back into his heart. Like a switch that dumped toxic sludge into his soul, Sunny Jim and Maddog's equally bitch ass brother woke a monster Tony had been trying for months to keep slumbering.
Plus, though he was not friends per say with Duce, seeing a rival who earned his respect, who's done nothing but be a benefit to the company get treated like an unwanted stepchild, all those factors rose the temperature to boiling point. Cherry on top of the shit sundae was when his wife told him about trent, a guy he hired to work bodyguard work, who turned out to have low morals and light fingers. When crew fucks up, it makes the leader look bad.
Tony doesn't like looking bad. After all, this guy does modeling work on Saturdays.
Now, an entire gene pool of rednecks was about to get a jug of bleach dumped on them.
Mark...
Yeah, fuck your moniker, Mark. It's the government name for this one...
To think I was actually proud of you. Last time we tangled, I made the mutt run under the porch. But look what he did after he pulled himself up back up. Beat Duce, won the N.A. Belt. You've been downright good. I had a lot of respect for you...
Until you let your idiot brother and that scum sucking parasite jack me before I could even say my goddamn piece.
One can't happen to notice Tony's in a garage. He's taking off his shirt, stripping down to a wife-beater, and he's got plastic sheets on the floor. Safe to assume he's not doing any painting, because he's playing with a set of brass knucks.
You let your crew creep without your permission. You may have had nothing to do with what they did, but you sure as shit didn't do anything to stop it. To me, that makes you just as guilty as your kinfolk and that sponge Jim.
Far as i'm concerned, you're just as guilty as Jim and Demon.
His wife walks in, the heels of her boots clacking across the plastic and concrete.
They brought him here, honey. Just waiting on you to let them in.
He nods. Cass looks just as heated as Tony. While he was gone for a few days touring, one of his people stole something from her while she was off at work.
It was a watch he had made for her by a jeweler in London for their first anniversary. Had all her favorite stones inserted in the bezels and everything. Beautiful piece. And it ended up in a pawn shop in Fort Worth. This was not going to end well.
You sure about this, babe? We could file charges or...
That wanker violated our home! He stole one of my favorite possessions. He pissed on everything we gave to him. Comes a time when it's no longer feasible to be civilized.
Damn. When wifey wants blood, things are fucked. Tony nods.
Just a moment. Already dealing with one piece of shit; the other one gets my attention soon.
*turns back to the camera* What Jim and your brother did, I'm holding you PERSONALLY responsible for it. What happens to them now is all on your head.
You shit clan done fucked around and got me back to the old me. The type of guy that'd go out of his way to fuck up your life. I don't want you or your family to eat anymore. I don't want them to be safe. I'm going to hurt Jim so bad, he'll wish his daddy didn't bust a nutt in his bag of white trash mother. Your brother, he's fucked.
Then, I'm busting you up and taking that fucking belt off of you for late fees.
Dallas is no longer safe for the Wright family. My people see yours, we're swarming on them. If we have to, we'll roll up to West VA. and burn your goddamn stills to the ground.
You may have not wanted war, but you have it now. And you fucks won't win...
You surviving it will be a goddamn miracle.
Alright, bring this asshole in.
Two of his guys, all with holsters stuffed with pistols, drag a man who's sobbing uncontrollably in to the room. They force him on his knees; he's blubbering and shaking. Tony kneels down, his teeth clenched in anger. One of his employees ask if Cass should be in the room. Her response...
Trent's got this shit coming, mate. I want to watch!
Goddamn, Trent. After I cleaned up that shit your dad got into; this how you do me?
Trent's weeping intensifies once his eyes catch those knucks slipping over the fingers of a professional wrestler, boxer, and straight up killer.
Jesus...*sobbing*...Tony...
Shushhhhh... His index finger presses against Trent's quivering lips.I ain't gonna kill you. C'mon. We don't kill unless we're authorized to. It's just...
You racked up a debt. You made me waste time on your bullshit. And my time is money.
I got....*sob...I got money...
If you did, you wouldn't be stealing from college teachers. Don't worry, we'll settle the balance right here and now.
I do hope for your sake you get used to eating through a straw for a bit, though.
He pulls his clenched fist back. Things go black, but the audio is still rolling...
And the story ends with the sound of metal repeatedly crashing against bone and meat.