Post by Alessandro Quagliaterre on Jan 12, 2021 14:45:34 GMT -6
“Nothing is perfect in this world. We are all perfectly imperfect, and that is perfectly all right.” - Muniba Mazari, July 2018
Let’s get something straight…
…
...
NO ONE’S PERFECT!
Perfect is A LIE!
Perfect is FAKE!
Perfect is DANGEROUS!
Dylan Thomas has this thing in his mind. He calls it perfection. Dylan believes so strongly in this level of attainment that he has dubbed himself ‘Perfection Personified’.
He wants everything perfect. He has this image in his head about everything… perfect life, perfect wife, perfect career, perfect amount of money, fame and glory, no matter what.
Well… the truth of the matter is, Dylan Thomas is far from perfect. In fact, in my opinion and many others for Dylan Thomas a more ample description would be a dumpster fire.
Because no one gives a damn, about what happens in a dumpster. And after this week's Inferno, Dylan ‘Not A Lot Going On At The Moment’ Thomas, will be right where he belongs, amongst the trash.
Screech... The sound of fingertips scratching against a chalkboard surrounds our ears. A mustered tingling vibration rings continuously in the surrounding atmosphere. For a moment the sound stops but quickly we see the fingertips re-emerge against the chalkboard. They slither against the board amplifying the irritance of the screeching echo in the airwaves.
“It's annoying? Isn't IT!”
A voice confirms what has already been explained.
“Well if you think that’s annoying…”
As the camera peers out the scene elaborates. Alessandro Quagliaterre looks as dapper as ever, in a three piece suit, and freshly cut trim on his beard. He is in the middle of what appears to be a worn out classroom. Stood by the chalkboard where he was butchering our ears with the constant screeching.
“Why am I here? Maybe it's symbolic? Maybe it's to teach you all a lesson? Make an example out of each and every one of you?”
Alessandro was annoyed about something, and it appeared as if he was going to take it out on everyone else.
“Or maybe there is no relevance.”
With an unlikely curveball, Alessandro continued to riddle his audience.
“There doesn't need to be an explanation for everything.”
He was determined to puzzle not just himself, but anyone else listening.
“Some things are better left unsaid.”
It was unlike Alessandro to keep his mouth shut, so he didn’t.
“Why am I in front of a chalkboard for this lesson? We’re in 2021, learning has gone virtual these days, with state of the art projectors, and flamboyant powerpoint presentations. You don’t necessarily need chalk and a chalkboard, because you have electronic whiteboards, zoom conferences and interactive learning through social media. Chalkboards are an outdated form of learning, but not all of us have come up to speed in the present. Some of us are still living in the past, like Dylan Thomas. Shut up and listen to what I have to say.”
Alessandro should have been ecstatic, but Dylan Thomas had appeared to have gotten him into a foul mood, even though they had never met.
“What kind of supposed A-List celebrity, doesn’t have a social media presence? No twitter, instagram, snapchat, tiktok, facebook, not even a god damn myspace or bebo page??? I get not having a twitter, because you want your privacy, but not having any social media accounts at all. That’s shady, are you scared of getting cyber bullied because you’re a simp? Or maybe you don’t have any social media accounts, because you’re not actually as Hollywood as you claim to be, you’re not even good enough to be an extra at dollywood. That seems more likely Dylan.”
He was teasing his upcoming opponent, would he be doubting himself, or was he playing mind games?
“Here’s the problem with monikers and gimmicks. If you don’t live up to them, you look like a idiot. Dylan Thomas, one part of the jigsaw that is the A-List, and the self processed perfect one, fails to live up to both sides of his persona, which makes him even bigger than just an idiot, he’s a stupid idiot.”
“Whereas me, I’ve never needed an outlandish nickname or an elaborate persona to get myself noticed. I’m simply Alessandro Quagliaterre. What you see is exactly what you get. No gimmicks needed. My name alone has more value than anything you’ll achieve or ever do in wrestling Dylan.”
He took a deep breath, scratched his fingers against the chalkboard yet another time just to annoy everyone listening, and then got off his chest what was bothering him.
“Except you’d actually have to have done something worthy of merit to be in the conversation of a worthy adversary, and the greatest thing you’ve done in GCWA is be a parody.”
“Because you are a parody of wrestling. Guess what Dylan? I don’t want to be a parody of wrestling like you. I just want to be the best wrestler on the face of gods green earth for one reason and one reason only. It’s not for the fame… it’s not for the glory, it’s so that everybody knows, and it proves that when I step foot into that ring, there is nobody better than Alessandro Quagliaterre.”
He then reiterated why he was so mad. He disparaged weaving his head side to side in antipathy.
“Meanwhile you and your butt munching entourage are happy being glorified backyard wrestlers over on Outsiders Championship Wrestling. Coming out here, up on Inferno, once every blue moon, pretending like you’re a hollywood bigshot, and a fakeass A-Lister that can swing his dick with the likes of Graham Norton, a British renowned talk show host, or James McAvoy, the terrible Scottish actor who played Charles Xavier in the X-Men films. I’m calling it right now… it’s all BULLJIVE!”
Alessandro grit his teeth, and his eyebrow perked up.
“Here’s how I know you don’t need either of them, and more likely than not got a body double or bootleg actors to play both of them in your last two promos. Graham Norton does not hang around with wrestlers, not since the mid 90s when he got caught fisting a journeyman wrestler up the ass in a five way bukkake. How do I know that? My mother was a pornstar, word travels fast in the illicit sex party game. Furthermore when Dave had his pretend skit on Graham Norton prior to the Righteous Rumble, which was clearly a ruse, you had your video feed cut to a commercial break at the end. Newsflash for you Dylan, The Graham Norton Show airs on the BBC, and the BBC has been commercial free since the beginning of time and it's inception in 1922. You would have known that, had you or any of the A-List actually been on the Real Graham Norton Show.”
Cold hard facts, to expose that the A-List would never get asked to be on a world famous talk show.
“As for James McAvoy, or as you dubbed him in your last promo Dylan… James Macavoy, which tells me straight away he was an impostor. As if you would know the real James McAvoy??? Now I don’t know much about James, but from what I do know from my actual showbiz associates, he has the thickest Scottish accent on the planet, so while you were parading around with a bootleg body double who was speaking fluent English, and pretending to be his character from X-Men, I made a phone call...”
“I made a phone call to 20th Century Fox Studios. Not only did I tell them about your little skit you pulled back in November, they were not very happy. It’s one thing to have someone impersonate an actor and their likeness without their express written consent, but it’s another to steal a movie prop wheelchair without permission. Except a huge lawsuit coming your way, I would highly suggest you seek actual legal representation, because they’re going to take you to the cleaners. Lucky for you that won’t happen before this Friday. Nothing is going to save you from getting what you deserve. The ass kicking of a lifetime.”
He glanced across the classroom, with a smirk now gracing his lips. However, seconds later, he returned to face the camera.
“They say you’re only as good as your last match. And in my match, last Friday, I made an example out of Aaron Warthog, without even breaking a sweat. Now usually that’s not something to brag about, because everybody should be able to beat someone like Aaron Warthog right? Except they couldn’t... shitty wrestlers on the same level as you Dylan, allowed someone as terrible as Aaron to be on a three match winning streak prior to facing me. But I ended that real quick.”
“Whereas for you Dylan, I had to really go deep into the archives of Inferno, because the last time you were seen wrestling on Inferno was on 6th November, when you got done turn over by Xavier Lux, a tag team wrestler. I had to dive even deeper into the archives to find out that the last match you actually won on your own was on August 28th against Lightning. I had to make sure I wasn’t seeing things so I made sure I blinked twice, to confirm that was an actual wrestler and not the weather. That’s embarrassing Dylan. You haven’t won a match for over four and a half months. For someone who claims to be perfection, and a part of the A-List, it’s not exactly living up to your moniker is it bud?”
“Bad news for you is, that terrible run of form you’re on, isn’t going to end anytime soon, because this Friday, your career as a glorified loser continues. And when you do, unlike Aaron, you won’t become a nobody. You can simply do what you do best, tuck your tail between your legs, and run back into hiding. Maybe make an odd appearance in support of your other loser friends in the A-List over on Outsiders, because being second best to a cripple in a wheelchair pretending to be a clown, is what you were born to do. Forget about being my bitch come Inferno, you’re already Lord Allton’s.”
Alessandro said with a swift nod of his head. Lord Allton was a cripple in a wheelchair, and he had already desecrated the sport of professional wrestling with his clowning around. Alessandro strongly believed that, Dylan Thomas wasn’t even good enough to lace up that frauds boots.
“So I challenge you, do something out of the ordinary, because you’re going to have to do something extraordinary to beat me. You’re predictable Dylan. You’ll either come out this week, with another fake skit of yours where you meet someone claiming to be a celebrity, or you’ll have the whole A-List have cameos in your vignette because you’ve never been able to come up with a creative idea of your own. Or you’ll do something different because I called your bluff. Eitherway, I’m still the one in control because you’ll be following the narrative according to me, and not your own.”
He pulled out his left wrist for display, and showed off his smartwatch to the camera, as he set the timer to…
“Five Minutes!”
He tapped on the countdown on his watch.
“Last week on Inferno, Aaron Warthog got five minutes of my time, and his five minutes of fame in losing to me. Which in truth, was 4 minutes and 57 seconds too long for someone of his calibre. You’re supposed to be a step up, except in my opinion you’re a step down. Aaron Warthog had more value saying nothing to me and knowing his place, than a mook like you opening his mouth and proving to everyone you’re mentally retarded. So here’s to you Dylan. Show up or show out. It doesn’t matter. Just remember, I’m giving you five minutes. Formulate a plan, hit some extra reps in the gym, get your douchebags friend to help you, because at 5:01, I’m ending you, and I’m leaving Inferno as a winner.”
He raised up his hands in victory symbolically.
“While you... you can go back to obscurity and the bottomless abyss of irrelevancy. What that means Dylan… is I’m a problem for you. You don’t know about me, but you should, and I bet after I embarrass you on Inferno, you’ll remember to never forget me.”
With that lasting pipebomb, Alessandro then turned back to walk out of the room, and almost walked directly into the chalkboard which would have knocked himself out. It was something that Dylan Thomas would totally do because stupid is as stupid does. School was closed, but class was in session, and unfortunately this was one lesson that Dylan Thomas was not going to get the required grades to pass, because he would require actual talent to ace it, and Dylan didn’t have any. And that’s that.
