Counting All The Assholes In The Room
Well I'm Definitely Not Alone... Well I'm Not Alone.
You're A Liar
You're A Cheater
You're A Fool
Well That's Just Like Me Ooohoo.
And I Know You Too
Mr. Perfect Don't Exist My Little Friend
And I Tell You That Again, And I Do It Again
Counting All The Assholes In The Room
Well I'm Definitely Not Alone. Well I'm Not Alone.
And I Tell You That Again, And I Do It Again
Counting All The Assholes In The Room
Well I'm Definitely Not Alone. Well I'm Not Alone.
[Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome Owner and CEO of BBW, as well as the General Manager of Monday Massacre... Kelly King 2 . 0!]
Kelly King 2.0 made his way out onto the stage to a chorus of boos that drowned out the plethora of other reactions that King normally received, ranging from women shrieking and teenage and adult males cheering him for the simple fact that he was 'the bad guy.' No, this time it was all boos, because no body loved the corporate sell out on this HBO broadcast, even though this corporate sell out had made this company what it was. King stopped himself on the stage to chuckle and smirk at the loud boos he was receiving, slipping one of his thumbs into his coat jacket, just soaking it in for a moment. The monarch of BBW and FFA shook his head all the way down to the ring, and it was very clear from the way his smirk contorted on his face that he had a lot to say and a lot to get off of his chest.
King's words spread like a plague often enough, and tonight would be no different as he walked up the steel steps and into the ring, where he walked around in a circle a couple of times as his music died. The tunes faded away, but not the boos that he was receiving from the crowd. "Yeah. Yeah! Let it all out, Massacre Masses. Let it all out because when I get started, I won't be stopping or pausing for you to chant WHAT or BOO." King said quietly into the microphone as he was pacing back and forth, unbuttoning his coat jacket so that it was open, giving him more freedom of movement. He twirled his microphone in grip, like the hilt of a sword, even though that was really more his son's kind of thing.
"Everyone was very happy to see me get put through that table last night at Winter Warfare, weren't they?" King asked, staring out of one side of the ring while the crowd cheered loudly. Watching Matt Shanahan put the corrupt King through the announce table had indeed been a highlight of the show, among some of the other stellar matches and the Backstage War. He rubbed at his forehead while fans chanted in Matt's favor, hoping that Shanahan was there that night to cause more destruction in King's life.
"Well I'm glad you all enjoyed that, because it's the last time you people will ever see me like that. Beaten. Broken. Battered. Defeated. No, I'm done with that. I'm done with the random attacks, I'm done with the lack of security. I am done with Matt Shanahan and his ridiculous, and illegal, attempts at revenge. He is fighting a battle that is already over. I am the head of BBW, I own BBW, I created BBW, and there is nothing he can do to change that in retrospect. So congratulations Matt. You put me through a table. You prevented me from officiating the match between Xavier X and my son, Serenno, and, yes, in doing so, you probably changed the course of the BBW Championship's history. I admit it. I planned on my son leaving the BBW Champion." King smiled and shrugged. It's not as though it was really much of a secret. Afterall, there had been rumors of favoritism since the House Our Father Built had debuted under King's reign as Head of Talent Relations, never mind his role as GM or CEO.
"Yeah, I admit it. It's really everyone else's fault though, everyone accused me of nepotism for so long that it really just became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like when you accuse your girlfriend of cheating so much that she gets mad and then DOES actually cheat on you, when if you had just kept your mouth ******** shut, it would never have been an issue? But you know what? After last night's performance, Serenno came to me and asked me to help him tonight in interfering in whatever the ******** it is that Xavier is doing tonight. And I told him to ******** off. Here's why; where was he when I was getting driven through that table? I know where Carmyne and Kayla were. They had already been disposed of by Shanahan earlier in the night. Reno was right there in the ring. He could have helped me but he ******** didn't because he was worried about Number One and that's the son I raised. This is why I didn't even want to get involved with those brats when they first showed up." The first bubbles of King's anger beginning to surface, as his voice became ruffled and his smirking and confident, cocky face changed. His eyebrows furrowed, and while his smile remained thus far, it was clear that it was a disbelieving smile, not one of enjoyment or happiness.
"So Matt Shanahan, waltzes into Winter Warfare, attacks me, attacks my kids, attacks my company, because he thinks he was screwed by me. When I took over the company. But here are the hard ******** facts people. You guys have been booing me for months for saving this company. My financial muscle brought us on the road. My legacy as a booker and international superstar brought us legitimacy. Who was it who negotiated the TV deal with HBO that saved us from cancellation after the Blackjack incident? Who signed superstar after superstar, exclusive after exclusive? I did. I did ALL of those things, while Matt continued to come out week after week after week and take credit for everything that I was doing for him. Matt and I, we have a rough history, especially after our legendary WrestleMania match, but for him to come out here every week and never give me a single solitary shred of the credit for all I was doing for the company, and for him? Somehow, I'm the bad guy?" Now, King looked especially mad. Disgusted really. Disgusted that even now, the fans were booing him for taking credit. Taking credit for things that, rightfully, were things they should be thanking him for. Cheering him for. Sure, some pockets of fans cheered King, they agreed with him, but the vast majority of the vans, Shanahan loyalists, boo'ed him.
"I shouldn't be surprised, honestly. I've been overlooked my entire career. It's constantly a... What Have You Done For Me Lately. Oh sure, every once in a while, someone will come up to me and they'll say, privately when no one else is looking, 'King, you're an inspiration. You're a legend. You're amazing. You're great.' But when push comes to shove, after more than ten years of doing this, how many awards have I won? How many times have I been recognized for my contributions to this business? Take a vacation at the end of the year because you're burned out, and all of a sudden none of the amazing things you did earlier that year matter anymore. Or maybe it's because I'm not constantly spewing some vitriol, politicking behind the scenes constantly, buying votes? It's true, I don't really talk to the guys in the back when the cameras aren't on, because they're all walking talking parasites. Each and every one of them out for themselves and themselves alone. If it isn't something THEY did, then it's not even remotely worth discussing. If THEY didn't do it, it may as well have never been done before. Oh yes, I'm ******** mad. I'm ******** livid."
"So let's forget for a minute, that I am the CEO of BBW." King said, as he slowly took off his coat, and loosened the tie around his neck, slipping it out of it's loop and tossing both articles of clothing onto the ground.
"Let's forget for a minute, that I am the General Manager." King growled, unbuttoning his shirt now, removing his extra accessories and tossing the black satin down to join his coat and tie, leaving him in just his pants and shoes, very akin to his wrestling attire.
"Or the Head of Talent Relations." King said as he rolled out of the ring and, from ringside, grabbed something that one of the ringside attendee's had been holding onto for him; Scepter the Sledgehammer, a golden plated hammer that was synonymous with some of the more famous portions of King's career. Taking the hammer and staring at it, 2.0 rolled back into the ring, and with the hammer on one of his shoulders, he continued to air his grievances with the Masses.
"Before all of this, I was... no I AM. The System. Greatness at it's Greatest. Technical Difficulty. The State of the Art. The Man That Time Forgot. The BEST of the Best. The Single Longest Active In-Ring Competitor In The History Of This World. AND THE ONE. TRUE. KING. I will not be forgotten. I will not be overlooked. I am the best at this. I have been for a long time, and I will be for a longer time. Matt Shanahan, you want to call this a war, well the two most powerful warriors have always been patience and time. And kid, you've got neither on your side, while I've always had both. Mess with the Best, die like the rest. Before the end of the week, I will respond to you in spades for what you did to me at Winter Warfare, and you will lose everything I haven't already taken from you. I own BBW. I am BBW, and you'll have to kill me to change that, Matt. You'll have to ******** KILL ME." King shouted, hoisting the hammer in one of his hands and pounding it down on the ring mat as he snarled the last words with hatred and rage and years of built up frustration cracking his emotional voice.
"You and me, Spring in the Ring. One more time. I can beat you. I will beat you. Kelly King 2.0 vs Matt Shanahan for BBW at Spring in the Ring. For Ownership of BBW. I'm going to remind you, these people, and the rest of the clowns we work with that..." King whispered and came to a pause, before looking up at the camera with a glare, his eyes glazed over with water, that he bit back. He grit his teeth, and spoke through them.
"Kelly King 2.0 is Professional Wrestling."
King dropped the microphone to the ground and then knocked it out of the ring with the sledgehammer like a golf ball, before he threw the hammer down as well in frustration. Fans continued to boo him loudly as he kicked his own expensive suit out of the ring and made his way over to the ropes, hooking his arms around the top and rolling backwards, over the top rope, down onto the floor, and made his way to the back, while the fans buzzed about the challenge. The anticipation of Matt vs King II.
