"The Monarch of Metal Method is here"
Jan 7, 2018 18:56:59 GMT
CEO Vincent Pryde, Andre Aquarius, and 2 more like this
Post by Heavy Metal Masutarou on Jan 7, 2018 18:56:59 GMT
"True Grit” - courage in pain or adversity
11/4/17
The Fat Smarkish Blog
“Welcome To NBW or The Monarch of Metal Method is here”
New Blood Wrestling...
Can you feel it? When his name was wetted on the dotted line, had his presence become known? Had it become clear that...
The Monarch of Metal Method is here?
Probably not. Casual wrestling fans who eat the plates of shit these promoters have been doling out wouldn’t know real wrestling if it cock punched them harder than Johnny Cage on that full split tip...but alas, I am here to tell you all what to like and how you should like it. And if your opinion is even slightly different than mine, I will tell you in excruciating detail just how wrong you are and even why you’re wrong.
It’s like an unregistered superpower. Suck my dick, Guardians. (also learn how to fucking wrestle)
Anyways, we’re here in New Blood per special request from one Vincent Pryde. He knew when he signed the muck and bilge of the UCI that he would need to bring someone who defines the term “legitimacy”, so he turned to the only talent who could rise to such a moniker. It’s a shame you haven’t heard of him. Yet. But after this week, you’ll have no doubt in your mind that my client, “Heavy Metal” Masutarou will lead this company to great things.
You’ll probably all be singing along with his theme song the week after. Just know I used to do it before it was cool and now that all of you are doing it, it’s not cool anymore. Fucking scrubs.
SHADOWLOVE insisted on being my clients very first victim. He pandered for it, took cheap pot shots at my client’s ethnicity with crudely fashioned promotional posters. I’m glad he decided to put his Crayola’s to good use instead of eating them this time, but really? A Japanese deathmatch? What is this, 1986? I can’t stand wrestlers whose idea of a 5 Star Match is littering the ring with as many thumb tacks and light tubes as possible. It’s a fucking disgrace and has no business in a wrestling ring. Go jack off in the backyard with all the other failed performers that have come and gone in this business and leave the wrestling to the real men.
I say fail, like hard fail. It took two years for him to even sniff any championship gold, an absolute impetus for any wrestler’s professional career, though he failed to connect on any tangible level because nobody can seem to figure out just what in the hell he is or doing. Are you a weeb? Or do you hate Japanese culture? I can’t tell because you seem to be fucking your Japanese assistant - or is she your wife? Or dom? Nobody fucking knows, Shadow. Get your shit together.
The fact that I must sit here and type out why SHADOWLOVE is a generic paper tiger is a waste of life and brain cells, but I’ll do it, if it saves you the misfortune of having to watch tape of his miserable career. True Grit is something that absolutely defines Shadowlove’s wrestling career. He couldn’t get it done in that comic book federation that he constantly harps on so he made his way to UCI so he could fail even harder there, yet proclaim he’s the face of the franchise. The very notion is laughable considering wrestling for screen time proved to be even too much for him. Here we enter a new year, a new company, just to watch Shadowlove bite the bullet of failure one last time. Sorry it had to be against Masutarou, but you’re used to pain by this point, right?
Do I even need to go over Dark Specter? I mean, he’s more of a nonentity here than he was over in Japan. The only place he was relatively big in was Mexico, and his popularity only soared with the child demographic. Couldn’t even collect on merch sales because his masks were bootlegged out of the back of a ’94 Ford pickup. I imagine Pryde offered him a contact of a warm bed and three hots a day. Fitting, considering he’s in a prison of his own concoction. In a market he has a .02% chance of survivability without his gimmick being relegated to that of a man child in a mask doing flippy’s because it makes the kids want to buy merchandise their parents can’t afford.
I talked to Masutarou the other day. He remembers wrestling you in Japan before he was a household name in the Japanese wrestling culture, back before he had any hair on his chest or face. Even at this young age, my client was a sight to behold…yet you, you only relied on backflips. Gymnastics. Swanton frog splashes and all that other spot monkey horse shit. My client recalled ineptitude. He didn’t say anything to his promoters, but he felt it was a slap in the face to be put up against you. I can’t blame him. All this high-flying bullshit belongs back in the early 2000’s. Nobody wants to see that anymore.
My client is a technical master of the craft. An artist of the highest order. Dark Specter is a child who wishes he could be a wrestler but is actually an acrobat. I’m pretty sure this kind of thing falls on the spectrum. It’s pretty broad these days, but I digress, and if you think your body hurts after taking the impact of these high risk maneuvers? It pales in comparison to the pain you’ll feel from a beating from “Heavy Metal” Masutarou. This is something you’ll be feeling well into your retirement, be it years from now or next week. Nothing is a given in this business other than my clients ascent to the top of this federation.
New Blood Wrestling is about to be put on the map and dominate the world of professional wrestling, and with Masutarou at the helm? You can’t go wrong.
The Monarch of Metal Method is here.
Oh, is he here.
- John E. Curiously
The quiet gym is broken only by the sound of bare flesh against heavy bags. A door opens in the distance, squeaking as it slowly closes shut. A man poised in offensive posture - with dark peachy skin, black hair pulled back into a tight pony - slashed his toned legs against the bags, buckling them in the middle and sending them flying along their tracks.
Masutarou: YAAAAAAGH!
YAAAAAAGH!
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!
As he takes the last hit, a rather chubby looking late twenties with a stylish haircut and target brand fashionista walks up to Masutarou, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
Curiously: I give, I give!
He chuckles at his own stupidity. Masutarou seems less than amused, his furrowed brow remaining stony as the guy awkwardly continues laughing.
Curiously: All right, I get it...you want to get down to business.
Masutarou: What do you have for me?
Masutarou speaks in perfect English, belying his seldom made responses in Japanese. John E. had a plan, and Masutarou was sticking to it. Though he was fat and slobbish, he had a great mind for the business and Heavy Metal did take his thoughts into consideration.
Curiously: I got you a match. You’re gonna love it.
Masutarou: With who?
John E. waited to answer, buying into his own dramatic pause.
Curiously: SHADOWLOVE.
Masutarou smiles, the devilish grin curving up the side of his face as his eye squints into a wink. He licks his chops.
Curiously: And Dark Specter. It’s to my knowledge that you’ve had a match in Japan with him?
Masutarou: A long time ago. I barely remember, though he was short in the tooth.
Curiously: Right, but the big move here is Shadow. You have to make sure you destroy him. Make sure he never wants to step foot in the ring with you again. This is the game plan. You have to stick to it.
Masutarou winds up and delivers a whirlwind kick to the heavy bag, ripping it completely off its chains and sending it sprawling to the matted floor below.
Masutarou: This isn’t a game to me, John. It’s going to be fun watching them hurt.
John E. laughed, but this time was aware of his own awkward chuckles and saw - for just a moment - Masutarou in a completely different light.
Curiously: Destroy Shadow. Make him suffer. Then, we’ll move on to step two. And remember, no speaking to anyone. The mysterious, the better. Remember that.
Masutarou nods, then collects his things and walks away. John E. watches him off, a speckle of gold in his dirty brown eyes.