United States Champion(1x)
Underground Champion (1x)
24/7 Hardcore Champion (x4)
Tag Team Champion(1x)
Women can bring you down in this business, Blake. And it seems you want to impress a certain woman. You want to win the heart of this woman. You want to do this, just so you can put your tiny dick inside of her disease infested vagina. Yeah, I can see it now, in wrestling magazines across the globe, the headline reading:
“Generation Next” Blake Mason contracts HIV from “Goddess” Katie Steward.
If you stay on your current path, with your current mindset, that of a college frat member or a high school student looking to get his dick wet for the first time, then that will be the only future you will see. You will become a cesspool of disease, especially when it comes to trying to get Katie Steward in the sack.
There won’t be any World Championships with your name on the front…
Sorry…not like that was going to happen anyways…
But back to the subject of women. Blake, there is no reason to try and impress women. You are a wrestler. Women all over the world will want to jump on your Johnson for years to come. Even when you in your sixties and are unable to get it up. They will line up to give you head. So why waste your time trying to get Katie Steward in the doggie style position?
There is no point in going out of your way or trying to kill yourself to get the attention of a woman, especially a female wrestler. Take it from me. I’ve been there, my friend, I’ve been there. All you gotta do is look at my relationship with Rachel Foxx. Yeah, review that shit and think about how it turned out. It wasn’t very pretty.
It was actually pretty damn great, because I kicked her ass from pillar to post, exactly the same thing I’m going to do to you at Breakdown, but that’s besides the point. I am just telling you that there are no happy endings when it comes to love in pro wrestling. Someone is always waiting, looking for an opportunity to stab the other one in the back, especially if they think it’ll benefit their careers. Rachel made a big mistake turning on me for Alex Jr. I don’t think he’s really helped her career at all, other than help it continue down the downward spiral it’s stuck on.
But, then again, it’s not my problem.
You’re my problem right now…at least for this week. I told you before, I am doing you a favor. You are getting a shot at MY United States Championship, because I am trying to be a nice guy. I don’t want to be like the typical SCW champion, who only defends against established wrestlers. I’d rather provide a service to the little people like you, giving you your fifteen minutes of fame, and bring out what little bit of promise you have, letting it go to waste, then send you on your way, with a pat on the back.
But you won’t make it anywhere in the high level of the low card, or the low end of the mid card, with Katie Steward on your brain. The idea of fucking her makes me want to go puke. I’d rather sleep with a crippled, fat, toothless old hag with old timer’s.
I mean, let’s be honest, most women nowadays, are all about getting paid, while most guys out there are getting laid. And that creates a very serious problem. Women who only want to make themselves bigger and better, will say they have no time for a man, which cock blocks the hell out of guys. And that seems to be the situation between you and Katie, Blake. She is all about herself and to her, I am sure you are nothing more than an ant on a hill, just something she can step on and keep on trucking.
I am sure that is how that drug addicted, money grubbing whore of an ex, Rachel, thought of me. I was nothing more than her meal ticket. I carried her to heights she would’ve never seen with Daniel Ackhart, height she will never again see with anyone else in the SCW, simply because their name isn’t…
Asher Hayes…(pauses)…What? No cheers? Hmm…
Oh well…I tried…
So Blake, stop with the mistakes and move on. Worry about your career, because sticking your dick in the abyss known as Katie Steward’s vagina won’t get you anywhere except in the emergency room, then a doctor’s visit ever so often for medication and shots to keep your herpes at bay.
I’m just sayin’…
Hey, like I said before…the truth hurts.
But if you really want to go that path, Blake…if you really want to go against the lesson I am trying to teach you and the valid points I am bringing up, then fine. Be a moron. But wait until after you and I step into the ring. Wait until after I beat you and retain MY United States Championship to get the HIV, please. Do you know how disgusting that would be to wrestle against someone with the HIV? Especially when I plan on drawing some blood out of you, Blake, just to make sure you understand that there is no future in the SCW, that there really isn’t anything close to generation next, other than that failed group Josh Hudson started up years ago…
What an idiot…cheers for that?
Hmm…
No…my fans must be doing some other things…I am sure if they are my fans and they are like me, then they are always on the go. That’s the way to be…
So Blake, are you ready for Breakdown? I mean, are you really ready? Saying it and actually being it are two different things and that is something you haven’t quite got the grasp of. I mean, you were going to take away the tag straps from Menstruation…I mean, Liberation…and that didn’t happen. But don’t feel bad…I couldn’t beat them either and I fought them by myself practically, because Rachel hadn’t had her daily dose of coke dick yet…but that’s something else for a later time…
I hope you are ready for Breakdown, because I am. I am ready to defend MY title, MY United States Championship, to be the fighting champion that I am, the fighting champion the SCW hasn’t let me be, because they are too busy overexposing James Exeter and Jake Starr and your bride to never be, Katie Steward…
What? Was that too much?
Like I said, the truth hurts.
And sticking with the truth, something else you need to know, Blake, when it comes to women of this day and age, women wrestlers at that…know this. Women are only good for four things. One. Cooking.
Two. Cleaning.
Three. Vaginas.
And four. There sister’s vaginas.
Peace.
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Well, that was fun, Asher Hayes thought as he pulled himself out from his bed, removing the condom from his penis. He walked into the bathroom of his fancy, overly expensive hotel room and dropped said condom into the toilet and flushed it down, as his eyes watched it spin around and around, before chuckling to himself, wondering why he paid so much attention. He then looked at his reflection in the mirror and scratched his chin. Stubble had been growing back and he needed a shave, but he ultimately decided against it. He had more important things to do like sit back and relax, or sleep all day. He then walked out of the bathroom and made his way back over to the bed. He lied back down and stared at the ceiling, feeling sleepy, as sleep began to wash over him once again, until his cell phone started to ring. Asher rolled his eyes, as the music continued to blare into his eardrum. He finally answered it. It was Felix on the other end.
Asher-What’s going on Felix?
Felix-Nothing much. Just figured I’d phone you, seeing how I haven’t heard from you in forever. Not since your match against Rachel. Way to go by the way…
Asher-Yeah, I know. That bitch had it coming. But yeah, man, sorry, I’ve been busy. The SCW is starting to do house shows and they got me wrestling every single show. Hell, I think I have to defend MY title against Justin Davis after I defend it against Blake Mason.
Felix-Yeah I have no idea who you are talking about. I know Davis…you always said he wasn’t worth anything.
Asher-He isn’t. So it should be a breeze, just like my match this week. You would get a kick out of this kid. He has some ability, but nothing much, but it’s still ability nonetheless. He’s got a hard on for Katie Steward. Like he has a chance.
Felix-Are you talking about that blonde bimbo?
Asher-Yep.
Asher pulled the phone away from his ear, when the sound of Felix’s laughter started to boom like music at a rave party entered said ear. All of a sudden, Asher felt an arm wrap around his waist, then a hand slowly rubbing against his chest and abdomen, before beginning to slowly make it’s way down Asher’s boxer shorts. Asher flicked at the hand and the hand drew away, and Asher began to speak, shortly after Felix stopped laughing.
Asher-So how’s things back home?
Felix-Oh you know. The same old stuff. Same shit, different day type of thing. What about you?
Asher-Yeah, I hear you on that one. Well, for me, I think I am undergoing a life changing experience.
Felix-Oh? Do tell…
Asher-OK, first off…nobody says do tell anymore. It’s rather gay.
Felix-Yeah, yeah, yeah. Who gives a shit? What do you mean a life changing experience?
Suddenly, the same hand was back at it, rubbing gently down Asher’s chest and abdomen, once again irritating Asher. The hand began to work it’s way down to Asher’s boxer shorts and Asher flicked the hand once more. But this time, the hand went back to his chest and began to repeat the same movement.
Asher-Well, I would tell you, but I have this very annoying whore…
Out of nowhere, a woman appeared, sitting up glaring at Asher. Asher turned his attention to her, mainly because her left boob was handing out in the open and Asher was in love with her boobs, because they were big and were rather pleasant to look at and to grab and bounce around.
Woman-What did you say? Did you just call me a whore?
Asher-No not at all. I said…I love…you more…
Woman-That is not what you said and you know it.
Asher-Excuse me? Wait…are you calling me a liar?
Asher had Felix buzzing in his ear.
Felix-What’s going on man?
Asher-I got this cunt in my room and she just called me a liar. She thinks I called her a whore, so I gotta go. I need to put her in her place. No, I didn’t call her a whore.
Asher began to hang up his phone and right before he closed it, you could hear Felix’s voice saying something.
Felix-But you did call her a whore…
CLICK
Asher-I think it’s best you leave.
The woman was already heading for the front door, before Asher made his comment. She stopped dead halt and turned around, still glaring at Asher, who sat on the bed, looking as if he were waiting for a reply, so he could smash it down.
Woman-What the fuck do you think I’m doing?
Asher-Wasting your breath. You haven’t left yet and if you don’t leave now…I will call security. I am an upper class gentleman, which means I’m rich and I have class and you…you are just some groupie who wanted to fuck and I just happened to horny and I thought you had a great rack, so it seemed like the best thing.
Women are only good for four things. One. Cooking.
Two. Cleaning.
Three. Vaginas.
And four. There sister’s vaginas.
Woman-Go fuck yourself.
Asher-I would probably get more out of it than I did fucking you. Now bye-bye.
The woman rolled her eyes before violently opening the front door of Asher’s hotel room and slamming it shut. Asher sat there for a few seconds, before lifting up his arms and sniffing his underarms. He smelled like whore, so he decided to take a shower. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He turned the shower water on, before turning to look at his reflection in the mirror.
What’s gotten into you?, Asher thought to himself. He smirked after a few moments of staring deep into his eyes, something he had done so many times before, something he had gotten sick of doing. No, it’s more like…what’s coming out of you?…The real you…hell, you told yourself that if Rachel turned her back on you at Under Attack, the Asher Hayes you buried long ago would return and BOOM! Here he is…in the flesh…
_________________________________________________
Asher Hayes was relaxing, feeling as cool as a cucumber, sitting at the bar with his friend, Felix. The mood just seemed right, as if nothing could touch, as if he was indeed on top of the world, when something very familiar entered his ears. It was like music, but not the kind of music Asher actually enjoyed. He took it in doses and it was OK for awhile, but it didn’t take very long for it to sound annoying.
Screaming fans. Screaming girls wanting Asher’s number. Screaming guys wanting Asher’s autograph and his number.
Felix-They love you man…
Asher-Yeah and can’t you tell I love them?
Asher shot Felix a rather disgusted look, before turning towards his screaming public and smiling from ear to ear, arms wide open, like he was going to hug each and every one of his fans.
Felix-Yeah…tons…
Asher started signing autographs, T shirts, posters, boobs, over and over again. He felt like he was stuck at some factory job, working the line, pulling this lever then that lever, before pressing this button, before going back to pulling this lever then that lever, before going back and pushing the button again. His life was stuck on repeat and at first, he didn’t mind it. He didn’t care to sign autographs or boobs, because he loved boobs, especially large, round, plump and juicy boobs.
Asher-OK here you go, Sherry. Have a good night. Thanks for being a fan. Be sure to tune in next week for Breakdown when I kick the crap out of Blake Mason.
Sherry was a red head with at least double d’s and a nice supple ass. She replied with a snicker.
Sherry-Yeah Blake is such a douche…oh my God…
Asher replied with a smile, a smile he had to force.
Asher-Oh, totally. I know, right. I hereby dedicate my title victory over Blake Mason this Wednesday night to you, Sherry. Thanks for the support.
Asher didn’t mind being back home, but he could only handle but so much of home. He was a hometown hero, something he never thought he’d see. Something he enjoyed for several months, but after awhile, it seemed like it did a Jason Wheeler and just got old.
Felix-Well…that seemed genuine. Was it?
Asher-Don’t judge me, Felix. You don’t know what it’s like. Sometimes I hate living this circus life nonstop. It’s like it never ends.
Felix-Dude, you’ll be alright. You are hot shit. You’re a fucking rock star practically. You are Asher Hayes, the most innovative wrestler in the world today…
Asher quickly covered his ears, letting out some sort of hissing sound, as soon as Felix made his comment. After a few moments, Asher uncovered his ears to reply.
Asher-I am not very innovative to be honest with you. I just go out and do things, that I think are cool. I do stuff that I wish my favorite wrestlers would’ve done back in the day. I mean, I’ve done some pretty cool stuff, but (tone changes to a rather sarcastic tone) when Jake Starr did that crazy ass pile driver thing last week, that topped everything that had been seen in this sport. I mean, there is absolutely no way I could ever do anything as cool or as innovative as that…
Felix scratched his head a little bit, before replying.
Felix-You really have changed huh?
Asher-What do you mean?
Felix-At one time, you would’ve respected a kid like Jake Starr’s work, but now, it’s like you just shit all over it, more or less.
Before Asher could reply a familiar face appeared before him. It was none other than Cassandra Gray. She had a friend with her, who walked over to Felix, who lifted up his hand, revealing a wedding ring, so she turned away and focused on Asher.
Cassandra Gray-I thought that was you, Asher…
Asher-You…um…thought right…what can I do you for?
Cassandra Gray-For free. But you’ll have to take her on too…(The friend stepped into Asher’s view)…This is Cherry…
Asher-Well, hello there…
Cherry kissed Asher, who kissed her back and before he could get a chance to breathe, Cassandra was kissing him as well. The girls grabbed Asher’s hands and pulled him up from his chair and began to lead him away from Felix and the bar. Felix stood up and called after him.
Felix-HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???
Asher turned back and replied, shouting from the exit door.
Asher-PEOPLE CHANGE!!!
Felix sat back down, looking rather disappointed. His friend was changing yet again, and this time, Felix felt, deep down, that this time was different, that Asher would be harder to control than ever before. After the thought left his brain, Felix said “fuck” before chugging down the rest of his beer.
_________________________________________________
Alright, Blake, you spoke. Congrats. At least you’re showing you got some heart, but not enough. It takes more than some overused, but for some reason, still catchy nickname and gimmick to get you anywhere. You’re Generation Next? Wrong. I already told you that meant nothing and I am sticking to it. You want to put your penis inside of Katie Steward, to finally pop your cherry. That seems to be your real motivation, which in turn, makes you out to be nothing more than a joke.
Yeah, I believe we’ve already established all of that.
To be honest, Blake, I could care less about what you have to say, because nothing you say will hold any sort of water or logic. You have been following the same formula since you arrived on the scene here in the SCW. A formula that has failed you time and time again. You want to be taken seriously, but the only person who believes in what you speak is you. That’s it. Sure, it’s good to believe in what you speak, but when you are nothing more than a moronic liar, then there is no point in even caring.
Simply put, you don’t know shit. You are at the top of the dance, because I brought you here. We both know you haven’t earned a shot at MY United States Championship, which is something else we’ve already established, but it was a point that needed to be stressed, which is why I bothered to repeat it. I have a good feeling about this match. You opened your mouth and tried to insult me, but your insults fell on deaf ears, just like a Jake Starr promo. I heard through the grapevine about your insults, which is why I decided to put you in your place. Beneath me. And because I felt it was fair to give a kid with blind ambition, but ambition nonetheless, the benefit of the doubt.
Fifteen minutes of fame, remember…
So, this is your one shot, Blake. Your one opportunity. Do you think you can give it everything you got? I know that you don’t even know everything you’ve got to offer. I know you don’t. You won’t admit it, which is fine, because I know the truth. I will steal the show like I always do when I step into the squared circle and I will have the fans lifting their filthy hands in the air, screaming and chanting my name, before the end arrives and I make you cry out to God, cry out for the US Championship, MY US Championship that you’ll never ever touch, cry out as realization sets in, and you realize that you failed.
Time’s up, Blake…
Ring the bell…
Ashes to Ashes…
Dust to Dust…
