A rumble full of dorks!
Dec 16, 2020 22:26:43 GMT -6
Deana Barrows, Jack Puffer, and 1 more like this
Post by Vargas on Dec 16, 2020 22:26:43 GMT -6
It’s been awhile…
The depressing and equally pathetic opening chords of Staind’s “It’s Been Awhile” comes over the soundwaves. Before it gets 12 seconds in, a bellowing angry voice is heard.
“SHUT THAT FUCKIN’ SHIT OFF!”
And just like that, it’s silent again. Staind wasn’t half bad really. I’ve smoked a joint with Aaron Lewis before if you can believe that. Could be worse, we could be sampling some Nickelback. The best fuckin’ band to ever be assembled!
Okay, not so much. There early stuff wasn’t half bad though, let’s be honest. In my experience the people who dog Nickelback so heavily, are the same motherfuckers who crank it when noone’s around. You know who you are.
Regardless, it’s been awhile since the Lord Almighty, CHAD VARGAS has even thought about professional wrestling. Staying out of the limelight altogether, silently fighting for our freedoms and pissing softies off left and right. You dumb fucks have no idea what’s about to happen once Creepy Joe Biden assumes office. Too busy hating the greatest president this country has ever seen all the while hating your country more! I dare you dorks to stop and think and return a logical fact based reasoning as to why you hate President Trump so much. I’ll wait. Oh, and it can’t just be based off a meme you saw on social media. You clowns!
But, we won’t delve into the political side of the crumbling of our great country. My grand daddy always told me, don’t talk about two things: politics and pussy. He always said, you’d be surprised how many guys are fucking the same hole and don’t even realize it.
Looks to me that it got too hot in the kitchen for our very own leader, Jonathan Barrows and had to step back and let a broad bail him out.
Deanna Burrows, this is for you my dear, tell me how much you love “our” commander and chief once your taxes rise so heavily you need to take a second mortgage on that mansion of yours to keep GCWA afloat.
The ‘fat lady’ ain’t sung quite yet. But when it comes, we will have to get Lissie Hope up on stage and start singing for us. The same Lissie Hope that patted herself on the back over and over once she somehow defeated Mack O’Connor for the strap. HA. Act like you’ve been there before, rookie. Doesn’t matter, I’m pretty sure she tucked tail once she lost. In my estimation, she probably should’ve never won in the first place. Lissie is so ugly her reflection throws up when she looks at her mirror! Also, please, for the love of God, do something with that God awful $50 tattoo on your arm! You look ridiculous.
What can I say? The righteous rumble came around the corner, and Chad Cringle felt like dishing out a few ass whooping's. Tis the season after all. Treat Cassidy had some low-budget dipshit kicked out of the running to make room for THE ONE AND ONLY. Someone’s gotta sell some fuckin’ tickets with all these blow-hards taking up roster space. Why not?
I’m goin’ in balls out!
December 6th, 2020 – Knoxville, Tennessee
A twelve foot tall balsam fir is seen wiggling in the forest. A chainsaw is heard revving, full throttle. We pan out to see a beautiful little Christmas tree farm on the outskirts of Knoxville. A winter wonderland if you will. It could be something in a picture book it’s so wonderful. A smooth layer of fresh snow adds to the serenity. This place is world renowned for its gorgeous trees and warming atmosphere. There are several families spread out throughout the forest of trees. The chainsaw starts to slow a little as the tree is heard crackling. Moaning, groaning, almost if begging not to be cut. Suddenly, the tree comes down, slow at first and then quickly smashes the crust of the snow. A woman jumps out of the way as it nearly crashes into her. We see some asshole raise the chainsaw over his head triggering the saw full throttle. A closer look tells us that it’s none other than CHAD VARGAS. Vargas looks the part. He’s wearing a red and black flannel shirt, a pair of jeans, and dons a Santa hat. He’s topped off with a pair of mirrored Oakley sunglasses. He kills the chainsaw and tosses it onto the snow beside him and assesses his bounty. He nods in approval. The camera pans out again to see the woman whom was nearly hit climbing to her feet. A few of the families have stopped dead in their tracks to watch the demagogue that is CHAD VARGAS. It’s hard to not be stunned by the scene.
As the cameras pan back in, a sign is zoomed in on.
“NO CHAINSAWS PERMITTED. HANDSAWS ONLY!”
The woman is finally to her feet and b-lines straight toward The Confederate Icon. Of course, she’s wearing a face diaper. Outside, no less. You guessed it! Her husband and her two loser kids are wearing them as well.
Woman: WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU! I’M GOING TO SPEAK WITH IAN, THE MANAGER!
Vargas chuckles, no selling this bitch as he looks closer at his tree. The woman eggs her husband on to say something, but he sees who it is and wants no part of this crazy bastard. She rolls her eyes at her beta husband and presses on with her verbal onslaught of the inattentive Vargas.
Woman: No apology? Nothing? Who do you think you are? My family have been coming here for ten years! I know Ian and his family very well! How dar—
Vargas rolls his eyes motioning with his hand ‘yeah, yeah…’
Vargas: Stuff it, Karen. Did you get a booboo? Fuck off and mind your own business.
The woman, Karen, if you will, is totally taken aback. Her husband swallows hard, bringing his children in close with his arms. Behind her back, he meets eyes with Vargas and nods slightly. As if to say, “THANK YOU!”. Karen is absolutely stunned that someone FINALLY spoke to her like that. She is used to running the show. People like that have some minimal authority at their workplace and somehow think it pertains to people out in the free world. She is completely speechless. Vargas, like the true animal he is, grabs the Christmas tree and hikes it up on his shoulder like a real working man. He leans down and snatches his Husqvarna 460 Rancher with his free hand and walks toward the parking lot. Soft pussies like James Raven wouldn’t have a clue what that even is. A real men’s tool. He wouldn’t even know how to start it. Skinny jean wearing stain. The camera zooms in on Karen as Vargas walks away. Like an 80’s cartoon, her mouth is dropped nearly to the ground.
#OWNED
Like the verifiable frondeur he is, he lugs the 100lb tree like it’s nothing to his renegade like jacked up black Duramax Diesel pickup truck. The camera zooms in on the ride that gleams in the bright winter sunlight. Freshly waxed. What a panty dropper that motherfucker is. Well… an actual woman. A conservative woman that doesn’t have a penis between her legs. We get a close up of the front license plate. We see the STARS and BARS. The flag of our forefathers, the flag of the confederacy emblazoned on his plate. Vargas hoists the tree into the bed of his truck and gently places the chainsaw next to it. He saunters over to the office and pushes the door open and heads inside. A bearded man leans on the counter drinking what appears to be coffee from a Styrofoam cup. He shakes his head at Vargas who looks at him blankly. They stare at each other for a few seconds.
Vargas: What I owe ya?
The man starts to laugh as he shakes his head more at Vargas. Vargas exchanges a smirk as he walks closer to the counter. He pulls a flask from inside his flannel and takes a haul off it. He offers it to the shopkeeper who smiles and shakes his head, raising his “coffee cup”. Vargas snickers.
Vargas: Always a pleasure Ian, how much is it? You see the one I snagged? Beaut ain’t it?
Vargas points out the window at his truck. Ian the Christmas tree farm can’t stop shaking his head in what appears to be disappointment, but then again it doesn’t seem as though he gives a fuck. He takes a drink from his cup.
Ian: Well… first of all you bring a god damn chainsaw to fall your tree. I done told you last year AND the year before that if I’m not mistaken to leave the god damn chainsaw at home. Not to mention, I got a call from Bethany Saunders! You threatening my clients!? What am I gonna do with you Chad? Once a year is all I see you, and you gotta come in guns ‘a blazin’ every god damn time!
Vargas: So her name wasn’t Karen?
Ian sighs loudly but chuckles. He raises his arms in the air helplessly.
Ian: God damn what I’m gonna do with you! Eh, give me $100 bucks.
Vargas reaches into his back pocket for his billfold. He retrieves it and thumbs through a wad of cash within his wallet.
Vargas: Here’s $400, the tree, the misunderstanding, the potential oil leakage, and I’ll buy Karen’s… errr.. What the fuck ever… Bethany’s tree. Merry Christmas, bull.
Ian is shocked as Vargas hands him over the crisp Benjamins.
Ian: Wow. Well, would you look at that? The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes today!
Vargas: Don’t push it, hoss.
Ian smiles, nodding as he places the money in the till. He leans back on the counter.
Ian: I appreciate it Chad. The Saunders family too will appreciate it. I’ll take care of it. You stickin’ around for the holidays?
Vargas dips his head and shrugs.
Vargas: Probably. I’m getting back into the ring though.
Ian: No shit? Wow "it’s been awhile!" That’s awesome man, I’ll definitely have to tune in, god damn it! Looking forward to it! Someone must need an ass kickin’ ahh?
Vargas laughs in agreement.
Vargas: Someone always needs an ass kickin’. But it’s just a one off gig. I’m not ready for the grind again. I’m gettin’ old. That life ain’t for me anymore. All these cancel culture hipster faggots occupy the entire roster. Now a days, I’d be suspended every other week. People ain’t built like they used to be.
Ian: Ha. You ain’t lying.
Vargas: But, I fly out for Missouri in a couple days. It’s a 30-some odd rumble. Should be fun. Punk a couple queers and slap around a few hoes that belong in the kitchen and not the ring.
Ian laughs as he takes a sip from his cup.
Ian: Hell yeah man, well I wish you the best. Stay safe. Wish the boys a Merry Christmas for me. Figured they’d be too old for a tree, you know, once they stopped believing in Santa Claus.
Vargas laughs.
Vargas: Never too old for a tree! Hell, It’s un-Godly not to have a real live tree in your fuckin’ house for Christmas. My boys never believed in fuckin’ Santa Claus, hoss. I raised men, not a couple of fairies! But yeah, thanks man.
Vargas eye’s the Karen family approaching the office.
Vargas: But hey boss, good seein’ ya. I’m gonna haul ass. Merry Christmas to you and the ole lady.
Ian: As always, always a pleasure, Chad!
The two exchange a handshake like real men as Vargas’ escapes before the massive cunt and her subordinates enter the office. As Vargas’ goes through the glass door, a sign reading: “DO NOT ENTER WEARING A MASK!” is seen taped to the door. Boy, Karen is going to lose her mind! Vargas’ jumps in his truck and fires up the powerful engine and heads on down the road to dress his tree and decorate his home on this fabulous winter evening. Even a bad ass can be in the Christmas spirit! When you’re a stud like Chad Vargas, every day is Christmas! The scene fades as Vargas’ shifts through the gears as he cranks on down the road.
Back in the saddle again. 30 participants and not one of them worth the price of admission. God help the GCWA. Don’t be scared of the coronavirus, be scared of CV-19. Big Bad Chad is comin’ and he’s comin’ for y’alls fucking heads! Run and hide. The boogeyman’s coming!
