Post by Savage on Oct 27, 2019 15:51:06 GMT -6
What's beef?
Beef is when you need two Gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU
-The Notorious B.I.G. "What's Beef?!"
Nate, that is fucking MAGNIFICENT!
Big brother Nathan went to New Mexico, and brought back a specimen worthy of a trophy mount. He dragged back a 300 lb. Rocky Mountain Elk from border with Colorado to brag to his little brother, Tony. But Nate forgot he couldn't quarter and field strip a carcass for shit. So, little brother's gotta break out the cutlery.
Tony covered the floor of his garage with plastic wrap, so as to not get blood on his new floor. The beast hangs listlessly by his hind legs; dead, black eyes staring down without registering what it sees. Tony unfurls his cutlery roll. That sweet, scraping sound of steel sliding across whetstone serenading them.
You sure you can still do this, T?
Motherfucker, please. I cut like a D.J. Why you think you hauled this stiff 600 miles, just so my garage can reek like roadkill?
He continues to sharpen his skinning knife until he checks the edge. With barely a touch, the edge slits a fine cut on his thumbs. Tony grins, sucking the blood off his digit.
This wrestling shit is a weird world, Tony. Nate shakes his head, helping his brother organize his tools. I mean, I watch that...the fuck y'all call it in the biz?
Promo.
Tony kept forgetting unlike other wrestlers, his kinfolk are barely invested in Tony's in-ring universe. It's refreshing, actually, to see a fighter NOT drag his family in front of a camera each and every week. Though Nate wanted to be present to see what the hooplah was about. He knew his brother built a resume over 7 years; he wanted to see for himself why his name was spoken with reverence in locker rooms and Twitter feeds.
Yeah...promo...what the hell are those meat packers smoking? I've personally seen you kill a man with a rolling pin.
Oh, that bodyguard gig in Venice back in '17! Ah...È stato divertente! Yeah, this chopstick with tits lives life like's she's Princess Vespa from Spaceballs. Thinks some corny gags and random shit talk stuffed into a script is a blockbuster. Maybe bluster and bitch until somebody throws her a juicebox. Don't get me wrong; she is funny. And if somebody would pull her head out of her ass and teach her how to conduct herself in the field, she might be great one day. Hell, been a few moments in my life I had to get knocked around bad after school to get right.
Pfft. Sounds like her head's already too hard to absorb some knowledge.
My Yiddish is rusty, but, I believe the term for people like Adi and Fisher are...*snaps his fingers, trying to recall*...ah. Shmendriks.
What?
Nate look confused as Tony explained, finish his prep
Roughly translated, it means an ignorant, obnoxious dip-shit that doesn't know they're that. Living life blissfully oblivious they're a tenth degree black belt fuck up. I mean, look what happened to their family and their fortune. They pissed it all away on dumb shit and bad business practices. I mean, I'm seeing a pattern here in GCWA; buncha failures that had to resort to eating chair shots to pay the bills because they can't manage or supplement incomes. That's always been the difference between me and folk like Adi and Fisher; Savages do things out of want for expansion, not out of desperation.
He never needed the biz; only wanted it. Successful mercs and defense contractors are rarely begging for scraps. War, unlike food, was always the superior choice for stability and profit. Tony circles the carcass of the elk, running the blade across the pelt, figuring out the best starting point to skin this creature.
As much as Daddy liked to bitch about this new generation half assing things, he had a point. True craftsmanship in the game is a dying art.
He needs a little music. He's got the perfect track to get in the mood to cut a dumb animal apart. And this elk, to boot.
He's surgical with the steel. It takes but a few precise cuts, and in moments, Tony's rock crushers for hands are pulling pelt off flesh. He sings with that smoky southern rock voice of his, ad libbing lyrics to suit his needs as his blade keeps working.
Hey everybody, the Goldblums are about to be clowned
By that guy named Butcher T.
Ol' T gonna cut dumbass Fisher down
And serve the fans kosher meat.
He's hackin' and whackin' and packin'
He's hackin' and whackin' and packin'
Fisher's a hack, he's wack, he gets chopped up like meat!
He sings as he cuts. Sinew, layers of fat, ; all scrap being flensed off with the ease of shaving one's face. Blood splatters across his pretty mug. He loves this shit too much.
He stands back, arms folded across his bare chest, tapping his knife against his shoulder.
So much food these days is loaded with trash. I mean, all these fuckin' antibiotics and GMO's and Yellow dyes swimming in our grub. Worst off, greedy, short sighted, unethical companies do their damnedest to shove their processed, synthetic crap down our throats.
Look at the Goldblums. Perfect example. All you have to do is look at their business model. Their promos, their personalities, and themselves as people; just like their rancid product...
Lips, tripe, and assholes stuffed in meat sacks, presented with packaging and advertisement that numbs ones brain and tricks the consumer into thinking they didn't blow their money by stuffing shit down their throats. Human filler and by-product mashed together.
You fucking schmucks are the bipedal equivalent of moldy Spam!
He shaves more sinew, and accidentally cuts a vein. A bit of coagulated blood oozes from the gash.
Seven years in the pro game teaches you many things. Eating clean; that's an important aspect of training. I see assholes in their shoots gorging on McNuggets and stuffing their faces with filler. Symptoms of their own addictions to junk lives and tendencies.
That is why you and your meshuggah family's business tanked, Adi, and that is why you set yourself and that double digit IQ having flesh shield of a brother for failure. You peddle junk, and it came back to screw you guys.
Is it any surprise you resorted to the bush league trash, funny as it was? Hovering above that idiot that decided to ruin a great show just to get you cheap heat, maybe rile me a bit. That's not what happened. All I could do is chuckle; it was like watching flies buzz around a pile of fresh dogshit, trying to eat off waste. Parasites...
He notices a bit of black on the left hind quarter of the beast. For a moment, he thought bugs had burrowed into the meat. Gotta watch for contaminates in wild game. These large, belligerent, mindless animals often have defects that make them feral and unthinking. Kind of like what made Simple Jack the fucking short bus riding Sasquatch that gets used by his chickenshit Jewish princess of a sibling, exploiting him like child labor.
Do you not give THAT much of a shit about this, or your brother? Have you been so pampered and spoiled your whole life that the concept of repercussions of your selfishness and ineptitude? Seems to be the Standard Operating procedure for the Goldblums. Are you so clueless about the game,
Your father's failure as a businessman lead to your empire crumbling. Hundreds without jobs and paychecks, struggling to eat because you idiots screwed the pooch. Instead of dealing with it like adults, you put on this sitcom act and putz your way through one misadventure after another. You put no true effort into your assault on me. You jumped on a brief, topical blip on the radar, hoping for cheap heat and a few likes on your social media feeds, not thinking of the fuse you lit.
How can a mongoloid, poorly trained and constantly walking around with your hand shoved up his ass like he was a Muppet, is going to take down a big game hunter like me, huh? Look at this fucking stiff.
Tony points to Nate's kill, dangling off a hook and flayed.He was just like Fisher, Adi. A brainless animal that relied on pure power and instinct to survive, and when it encountered a predator with superior skill and control over himself , who hones his craft instead of reliance on nothing but raw strength, well...
Bambi over here swinging off the ceiling should be a spoiler alert.
He cuts more and more. Meat, bone-meal, blood falling to the floor.What good is that giant mongoloid frame of his when it becomes a liability? When his raw size and tendency to waste gas on blind rages has him sucking air in the ring? When those clumsy tree trunks of his get trapped, bent to shit...
More cutting. The cameraman is getting rattled by the sound of muscle and tendon being sliced with surgical precision.
What will a simple, poorly trained man-child do, when the tendons and ligaments stretch past capacity? When his lungs can't fill with air? When his, and your, lack of experience and care gets your kin twisted up like a balloon animal because unless the instructions are written in Crayola, he doesn't know a wristwatch from a wrist-lock. When a "nobody" that's spent an entire career, a life, putting down diseased mongrels in and out the ring? When his
lack of real talent grappling wise gets him
Adi, booby, Fish-sticks shouldn't worry about getting his rectum stretched out like yoga pants by some BBC. Since the day he was born, since the moment you compelled him to agree to commit suicide live on Friday...
YOU AND YOUR CORNY, OXYGEN RAPING FAMILY'S BEEN JAMMING DICK IN HIS ASS ALL THE WAY INTO HIS GUTS HIS WHOLE LIFE!!
His knife thrusts into the abdomen. Tony breaks apart the ribcage, pouring forth the elk's innards onto the plastic tarps. Nate nearly leaps out of his seat. He didn't think Tony carried that off the field into a ring. God, was he wrong.
And Tony; his face is twisted and covered in blood. Steam might as well be pouring out of pores.
I can't tell which one of you is the real fucking retard of the family, so, I'm going to keep the finale real goddamned simple so I don't blow y'alls collective fuses...
Wrestling is like being a butcher; it is a craft. Nothing you would know about, considering the Goldblum legacy, it's bread and butter, is stuffing scrap-meat down people's throat, and trying to bullshit them by calling it prime cuts. And the worst part is, if you weren't such a vapid, pampered, paint by the numbers jobber hiding behind jokes and making others wipe your ass and tell you how smart and pretty you are...
You might be worth a shit! Only if you decide to stop taking shortcuts.Then again, you've all made a living providing a product that's bare minimum in quality. That'd be a major stretch.
But I'll fix that come Fight Night on Inferno! I'll teach you wiener slangers how to make sausage in the ring. And considering my resume, that recipe's award winning.
I would have thought watching what happened to Mad Dog would have gave you guys a clue. Guess I'm stuck once again butchering a dumb mammal to make a decent meal.
Tony looks over to Nate, soaked in crimson, looking kill crazy. Nate's jaw and his beer are both on the floor.
Big brother got his answer about what his bother did in the ring. He kind of regretted asking it in the first place.
Beef is when you need two Gats to go to sleep
Beef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets
Beef is when I see you
Guaranteed to be in ICU
-The Notorious B.I.G. "What's Beef?!"
Nate, that is fucking MAGNIFICENT!
Big brother Nathan went to New Mexico, and brought back a specimen worthy of a trophy mount. He dragged back a 300 lb. Rocky Mountain Elk from border with Colorado to brag to his little brother, Tony. But Nate forgot he couldn't quarter and field strip a carcass for shit. So, little brother's gotta break out the cutlery.
Tony covered the floor of his garage with plastic wrap, so as to not get blood on his new floor. The beast hangs listlessly by his hind legs; dead, black eyes staring down without registering what it sees. Tony unfurls his cutlery roll. That sweet, scraping sound of steel sliding across whetstone serenading them.
You sure you can still do this, T?
Motherfucker, please. I cut like a D.J. Why you think you hauled this stiff 600 miles, just so my garage can reek like roadkill?
He continues to sharpen his skinning knife until he checks the edge. With barely a touch, the edge slits a fine cut on his thumbs. Tony grins, sucking the blood off his digit.
This wrestling shit is a weird world, Tony. Nate shakes his head, helping his brother organize his tools. I mean, I watch that...the fuck y'all call it in the biz?
Promo.
Tony kept forgetting unlike other wrestlers, his kinfolk are barely invested in Tony's in-ring universe. It's refreshing, actually, to see a fighter NOT drag his family in front of a camera each and every week. Though Nate wanted to be present to see what the hooplah was about. He knew his brother built a resume over 7 years; he wanted to see for himself why his name was spoken with reverence in locker rooms and Twitter feeds.
Yeah...promo...what the hell are those meat packers smoking? I've personally seen you kill a man with a rolling pin.
Oh, that bodyguard gig in Venice back in '17! Ah...È stato divertente! Yeah, this chopstick with tits lives life like's she's Princess Vespa from Spaceballs. Thinks some corny gags and random shit talk stuffed into a script is a blockbuster. Maybe bluster and bitch until somebody throws her a juicebox. Don't get me wrong; she is funny. And if somebody would pull her head out of her ass and teach her how to conduct herself in the field, she might be great one day. Hell, been a few moments in my life I had to get knocked around bad after school to get right.
Pfft. Sounds like her head's already too hard to absorb some knowledge.
My Yiddish is rusty, but, I believe the term for people like Adi and Fisher are...*snaps his fingers, trying to recall*...ah. Shmendriks.
What?
Nate look confused as Tony explained, finish his prep
Roughly translated, it means an ignorant, obnoxious dip-shit that doesn't know they're that. Living life blissfully oblivious they're a tenth degree black belt fuck up. I mean, look what happened to their family and their fortune. They pissed it all away on dumb shit and bad business practices. I mean, I'm seeing a pattern here in GCWA; buncha failures that had to resort to eating chair shots to pay the bills because they can't manage or supplement incomes. That's always been the difference between me and folk like Adi and Fisher; Savages do things out of want for expansion, not out of desperation.
He never needed the biz; only wanted it. Successful mercs and defense contractors are rarely begging for scraps. War, unlike food, was always the superior choice for stability and profit. Tony circles the carcass of the elk, running the blade across the pelt, figuring out the best starting point to skin this creature.
As much as Daddy liked to bitch about this new generation half assing things, he had a point. True craftsmanship in the game is a dying art.
He needs a little music. He's got the perfect track to get in the mood to cut a dumb animal apart. And this elk, to boot.
He's surgical with the steel. It takes but a few precise cuts, and in moments, Tony's rock crushers for hands are pulling pelt off flesh. He sings with that smoky southern rock voice of his, ad libbing lyrics to suit his needs as his blade keeps working.
Hey everybody, the Goldblums are about to be clowned
By that guy named Butcher T.
Ol' T gonna cut dumbass Fisher down
And serve the fans kosher meat.
He's hackin' and whackin' and packin'
He's hackin' and whackin' and packin'
Fisher's a hack, he's wack, he gets chopped up like meat!
He sings as he cuts. Sinew, layers of fat, ; all scrap being flensed off with the ease of shaving one's face. Blood splatters across his pretty mug. He loves this shit too much.
He stands back, arms folded across his bare chest, tapping his knife against his shoulder.
So much food these days is loaded with trash. I mean, all these fuckin' antibiotics and GMO's and Yellow dyes swimming in our grub. Worst off, greedy, short sighted, unethical companies do their damnedest to shove their processed, synthetic crap down our throats.
Look at the Goldblums. Perfect example. All you have to do is look at their business model. Their promos, their personalities, and themselves as people; just like their rancid product...
Lips, tripe, and assholes stuffed in meat sacks, presented with packaging and advertisement that numbs ones brain and tricks the consumer into thinking they didn't blow their money by stuffing shit down their throats. Human filler and by-product mashed together.
You fucking schmucks are the bipedal equivalent of moldy Spam!
He shaves more sinew, and accidentally cuts a vein. A bit of coagulated blood oozes from the gash.
Seven years in the pro game teaches you many things. Eating clean; that's an important aspect of training. I see assholes in their shoots gorging on McNuggets and stuffing their faces with filler. Symptoms of their own addictions to junk lives and tendencies.
That is why you and your meshuggah family's business tanked, Adi, and that is why you set yourself and that double digit IQ having flesh shield of a brother for failure. You peddle junk, and it came back to screw you guys.
Is it any surprise you resorted to the bush league trash, funny as it was? Hovering above that idiot that decided to ruin a great show just to get you cheap heat, maybe rile me a bit. That's not what happened. All I could do is chuckle; it was like watching flies buzz around a pile of fresh dogshit, trying to eat off waste. Parasites...
He notices a bit of black on the left hind quarter of the beast. For a moment, he thought bugs had burrowed into the meat. Gotta watch for contaminates in wild game. These large, belligerent, mindless animals often have defects that make them feral and unthinking. Kind of like what made Simple Jack the fucking short bus riding Sasquatch that gets used by his chickenshit Jewish princess of a sibling, exploiting him like child labor.
Do you not give THAT much of a shit about this, or your brother? Have you been so pampered and spoiled your whole life that the concept of repercussions of your selfishness and ineptitude? Seems to be the Standard Operating procedure for the Goldblums. Are you so clueless about the game,
Your father's failure as a businessman lead to your empire crumbling. Hundreds without jobs and paychecks, struggling to eat because you idiots screwed the pooch. Instead of dealing with it like adults, you put on this sitcom act and putz your way through one misadventure after another. You put no true effort into your assault on me. You jumped on a brief, topical blip on the radar, hoping for cheap heat and a few likes on your social media feeds, not thinking of the fuse you lit.
How can a mongoloid, poorly trained and constantly walking around with your hand shoved up his ass like he was a Muppet, is going to take down a big game hunter like me, huh? Look at this fucking stiff.
Tony points to Nate's kill, dangling off a hook and flayed.He was just like Fisher, Adi. A brainless animal that relied on pure power and instinct to survive, and when it encountered a predator with superior skill and control over himself , who hones his craft instead of reliance on nothing but raw strength, well...
Bambi over here swinging off the ceiling should be a spoiler alert.
He cuts more and more. Meat, bone-meal, blood falling to the floor.What good is that giant mongoloid frame of his when it becomes a liability? When his raw size and tendency to waste gas on blind rages has him sucking air in the ring? When those clumsy tree trunks of his get trapped, bent to shit...
More cutting. The cameraman is getting rattled by the sound of muscle and tendon being sliced with surgical precision.
What will a simple, poorly trained man-child do, when the tendons and ligaments stretch past capacity? When his lungs can't fill with air? When his, and your, lack of experience and care gets your kin twisted up like a balloon animal because unless the instructions are written in Crayola, he doesn't know a wristwatch from a wrist-lock. When a "nobody" that's spent an entire career, a life, putting down diseased mongrels in and out the ring? When his
lack of real talent grappling wise gets him
Adi, booby, Fish-sticks shouldn't worry about getting his rectum stretched out like yoga pants by some BBC. Since the day he was born, since the moment you compelled him to agree to commit suicide live on Friday...
YOU AND YOUR CORNY, OXYGEN RAPING FAMILY'S BEEN JAMMING DICK IN HIS ASS ALL THE WAY INTO HIS GUTS HIS WHOLE LIFE!!
His knife thrusts into the abdomen. Tony breaks apart the ribcage, pouring forth the elk's innards onto the plastic tarps. Nate nearly leaps out of his seat. He didn't think Tony carried that off the field into a ring. God, was he wrong.
And Tony; his face is twisted and covered in blood. Steam might as well be pouring out of pores.
I can't tell which one of you is the real fucking retard of the family, so, I'm going to keep the finale real goddamned simple so I don't blow y'alls collective fuses...
Wrestling is like being a butcher; it is a craft. Nothing you would know about, considering the Goldblum legacy, it's bread and butter, is stuffing scrap-meat down people's throat, and trying to bullshit them by calling it prime cuts. And the worst part is, if you weren't such a vapid, pampered, paint by the numbers jobber hiding behind jokes and making others wipe your ass and tell you how smart and pretty you are...
You might be worth a shit! Only if you decide to stop taking shortcuts.Then again, you've all made a living providing a product that's bare minimum in quality. That'd be a major stretch.
But I'll fix that come Fight Night on Inferno! I'll teach you wiener slangers how to make sausage in the ring. And considering my resume, that recipe's award winning.
I would have thought watching what happened to Mad Dog would have gave you guys a clue. Guess I'm stuck once again butchering a dumb mammal to make a decent meal.
Tony looks over to Nate, soaked in crimson, looking kill crazy. Nate's jaw and his beer are both on the floor.
Big brother got his answer about what his bother did in the ring. He kind of regretted asking it in the first place.
