Post by Tony Savage on Jan 7, 2018 18:11:47 GMT -5
The Bronx, N.Y. 01/07/2018 10:33 A.M. Eastern
Jesus...somebody get Tony out of there before he kills him.
Chris Constantine had to do something; Tony was red-line these days. A simple sparring session nearly turned into a bloodbath as Tony seemingly flashed back to his combat days and nearly toe-tagged the poor schmuck assigned as his sparring partner. Seemed like everyday, nothing but steam emitted out of Savage's pores. Between losing to Prada, his beef with his old company on social media, and this D.E.A. agent trying to make his life miserable, it seemed all Tony saw was enemies all around him.
Chris's client was in the ring, snarling, not even aware of the gaggle of gym patrons surrounding the ring, gasping and gossiping and taking photos. It was finally when Chris got in his face did Tony pump the brakes and look down at the guy. He shook his head, shameful of what he just inflicted....
Fucking hell; get this guy to the doc. Shit.
There were demons chasing Tony, and before they derailed his client's progress before they even got started, Chris had to do a little exorcising.
We need to get the hell out of here, c'mon!
Chris was practically dragging Tony to the lockers; he was still heated, barely able to vocalize:Alright; what the hell is going on with you? Every time I've put you in the ring to spar, you go all Russel Crow in Gladiator on people. What happens if that guy decides to sue?
He signed the waiver; he knew what he was getting into. I'll cover his medical expenses.
Tony decided to spark up a joint; Chris frowned in a bit of disapproval, but right now, he was a ticking time bomb. Besides, he had a card for it. Chris cops a squat on a bench:You get that shit out of your system yet?
He wanted to say yes, but, Savage was still on edge:All he had to do was take my name off the fucking records. That's all he had to do. Arrogant, incompetent bald fucker...
Jesus; you're STILL going off about your old stomping grounds? You need to let that go...
I wish I could. Seems like every fucking time I'm about to let it slide off my shoulders, I'm finding out all kinds of bullshit that motherfucker is pulling behind people's back. A lot of people broke themselves making that Nuck bastard rich, only to get pushed aside and played for suckers. I mean, who the fuck books a guy that's never spent one minute in a company ring to a fucking world title shot. Seriously, how the hell can Megan STILL go there week in and week out, knowing he's installed a glass ceiling above her head? How can anybody...
Shit...I know I shouldn't let it get under my skin but...
Yeah, I get it, Tony. Hard for a guy that used to be a soldier, a military cop no less, to let shit he thinks is harming people just flow under the bridge.
Hate to say it, son, but, that's just the way the business works.
He knows what Tony is about to say, and halts him before a syllable can even jump off his lips:I know it ain't right. This is wrestling; if ethics and consideration for the welfare of others were requirements for somebody to run a fed, you'd end up counting the number of feds operating on one hand. Promoters are pieces of dog-shit, Tony...
Except for Kaden. He's stand up; no complaints on our end!Chris, being the savvy manager he is, quickly adjusts his statement in lieu of the Premiere camera right in his grill.
For argument's sake, let's assume you're right...
Assume, motherfucker?! *growling while kush smoke pours out his mouth!*
You haven't exactly been a saint in this whole thing, either. You're arrogant, you're prideful, and you've got a boiling point that could melt copper. You're not the easiest guy to deal with, and even you have to admit, your approach has been belligerent and unpleasant. And it's been causing you to lose focus on the things that are important. Worst of all...
The way you've been going at it; you're losing a war you already won....when you won this!
The Premiere International title. Chris has it tightly in his grasp, nearly shoving it into Tony's beet-red face:If they had any inclination that you weren't worthy or capable of being back in the spotlight with a belt around your waist, you proved them wrong. Your old boss, your critics, that night when you climbed that ladder and snatched this off that hook, you proved beyond a shadow of a doubt you STILL belong on the wrestling radar. You won the war, but typical of you...
You just COULDN'T take your damn ice cream and go home, could you? You just HAD to keep picking at it. You just HAD to prove you were right all along. That isn't taking on a crusade, Tony...
That's looking for blood for blood's sake, and once it starts becoming that....
Chris pauses, thinking about how T did that guy up in the ring just minutes ago:When you live life by the "eye for an eye" philosophy, everybody just ends up blind by the end.
Don't lose sight of what you came here to do, or else....
Chris gently puts the strap down, showing little emotion on his face:The only casualty in this war that'll matter...will be you!
Food for thought; there's a reason you pay me that much money to do what I do.
*****
Later, that night, in Tony's apartment, a little Facetime session with his boy....
Sorry I gotta cut this short, kiddo, but your pops gotta do this thing for work. Did you brush your teeth, little man?
Yup.
Did you? I know a forensic dentist, kiddo. If you didn't, he'll find out...
Course I did, silly!Tony's son flashes those pearly kid whites, giggling.
That's my boy; you got your old man's million dollar smile. Anyways, love you, kid. I'll see you this weekend. If that wasn't a good enough reason to steer in another direction, Tony couldn't figure out what else could be. The only reason he could see him not talking to his son, was to take a break and finish off his beer, which was getting nearly room temperature because he didn't want to drink in front of his kid.
Chris's words rang in Tony's head loud and deafeningly clear. He was losing focus, letting side conjecture and bullshit derail him from the task at hand. That task...
Was being the best in Premiere....PERIOD!
A lot of gums were bumping and a lot of opinions from motherfuckers who didn't know any better were sounding off, like they forgot who they were mouthing off about....
Like Hova spat in his rhymes, allow me to re-introduce myself....
Where the fuck is my cameraman...HEY, LANDON...get the fuck out of the shitter and come do your job, will ya?! Premiere cameraman, and the Morty to Tony's Rick, Landon:Where'd you get that toilet, Tony? That thing is legit! I've never took a dump on a heated toilet before...
Considering how long you were in there, I'm suspecting you were doing more than dropping deuce off at the pool. If I find one sub-particle of nutt on my commode, Skinny Pete, you won't be thinking my crapper's lit as fuck when I'm flushing you down it. Now, let's give these ball bags that buy my merch another reason to hit the premiere shop...
*Rolling*
Happy New Year, ya beautiful scrotum sacks. Last time you saw me in a Premiere ring, well...
Yeah, kinda left a lump of coal in the proverbial stocking. Tiff beat me, what can I say....
I'm not like Kyleigh or most of these mouth breathers who blame luck or circumstance or bitch about the lights being too fucking bright and their shoes not broken in properly for what happened when they get the L. Naw, that's not how this works, and that's not how true superstars in this game operate...
Tiff did her job better than me that night. Period. End of story. It happens once in awhile. I'm not a fucking god, I'm not an immortal....
I'm just one of the baddest motherfuckers to tread on ring canvas, but the baddest sometimes have to watch the villain get one over the hero...
Hell, if not, what would action movies be like if the antagonist didn't get some shine, besides an excuse to watch shit blow up and maybe some titty shots. Sometimes, the hero needs to take a bump to realize....
He's gotta tighten up and get back on track. Hell, in some ways, I'm kind of glad it happened. I get a little full of myself, sometimes, I need a little humbling....
Humility. Self awareness. The ability to see what is wrong not only with your enemies and adversaries, but more importantly, yourself. That is what separates legends from also-rans, champs from chumps. Anytime, anywhere, you can get done up, and you can get knocked off your pedestal....
A lesson obvious this mush-mouthed, peroxided, can't figure out it's okay to admit you got an Achilles Heel and keep this bullshit front that being nuttier than squirrel shit and talking like you've been going crazy with the Novocane, makes you the top dog.
Like geometry and Scott Hall back in the early 2000's, there's a pattern to you. There's ALWAYS a pattern to you.
You think you're the dominate force in Premiere. You're not. Hate to break it to you, you glammed out ode to stereotyping speech impediments, but you're not. I know every week you come out, flapping those lips coated in that god-awful lip gloss that makes you look like rigor mortis is setting in...
Seriously, I ain't got no issues with dudes in make-up, but wear some shit that actually COMPLIMENTS your skin. Couldn't you have asked Pixie or Tiff about fashion tips while they were busy punking your doofy ass for slipping up.
I had to kick your ass to light a fire under it. Couldn't help but notice after I scored the dub while you and Sammy were going at each other like two trailer trash bitches fighting over the same loser on t.v. like it was Maury Povich, you actually showed a flash of a decent champion, somebody that, for one glorious night, put it all together, and flew past his limitations and his short-comings...
Then...*slaps his hands together*...the old Teo popped up like herpes again.
Arrogant, short sighted, talking that limited, basic bitch shit that might cut it at that other joint you grab a check from, but, besides walking around with that strap on your waist that, quite frankly, about half a dozen motherfuckers on the payroll are WAY more qualified to wear than you right now, you haven't done a very good job convincing motherfuckers you're the top of the food chain in Premiere.
You got skills, you are good, but...you ain't great. Because, we've been watching time and time again since kaden signed the mortgage on this motherfucker...
When you encounter GREAT....you come up short. Don't believe me, allow the prosecution to present the evidence....
You faced Prada and slept on her....she beat you.
You faced me and frankly thought I was dog-shit...I beat you.
You rinsed and repeated that stratagem against Pixie, who, despite not being big enough to ride a fucking roller coaster, has made a rep across the industry 90% of these mouth breathers would KILL for....survey says, Cover Girl...
You...big shock....lost!
Against mid-carders and wanna-be's, you may be running game, but time and time again, when real killers show up for the gunfight, you've shown ad nauseum you don't have the ammo to keep firing!
And it isn't because we've got better moves or talk a better game, it's all up here *point at his skull*, the mentality.
You are convinced, time and time again, shoot after shoot, that you are the be-all, end all in Premiere, and NOTHING is going to sway you from that insane logic. Hell, you probably feel that right now, even though you shouldn't. And this is where the parity between cats like me and you comes into play....
Ever since I've come here, I've ended or wounded careers, I've helped motivate people like you and Kyleigh to reach beyond your pay grades. Few have promoted this fed like me, cut shoots like me, brought a mentality and level of urgency and aggression no-one else has brought to Premiere. And all the fucking time, from fans to management, I hear how great I am, how much of an inspiration and a breath of fresh air I am to the sport, and all of them believe that, except the one guy who's opinion matters the most...
ME!
I lost to a broad I should have scraped off my Jordan's after the match because I could have been better. I did this Premiere International Championship and the fans who drop good cheddar to see us live and who took time out of their schedules to watch a disservice because I was convinced I didn't need to get any better, when the result clearly stated otherwise. I feel like a disappointment after losing one tough fight against an accomplished grappler with an excellent resume, while you've been put down already a handful of times in that ring, and you still lie your fruity, pasty, not ready for prime time ass week after week that you're the best this place has to offer while avoiding the fact you obviously need a wake-up call that you need to do better...
You treat that belt like it's your right, while I treat mine like a responsibility. You treat your adversaries like jokes no matter how good they are, while I treat mine like threats, no matter how bad they are. You think you don't need to evolve, when I consider it career death not to....
That's when Tony grabs his belt, and bellows with a rage he hadn't deployed since his days in that shit-hole he used to wrestle for......
AND THAT'S THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN YOU AND ME, MOTHERFUCKER! THIS IS WHY I'M MORE RESPECTED AND FEARED IN THIS INDUSTRY THAN YOU! THIS IS WHY MY RESUME IS BETTER THAN YOURS! THIS IS WHY I DON'T LOSE AS OFTEN AS YOU, BECAUSE I OPERATE IN ALL THE WAYS YOU DON'T! I DON'T SIT ON MY LAURELS, I DON'T CONSIDER MY MENTAL DYSFUNCTIONS A BENEFIT, AND I SURE AS SHIT DON'T UNDERESTIMATE THESE SPANDEX WEARING COCK-SUCKERS NO MATTER HOW BABY SHIT SOFT OR FULL BLOWN RETARDED AND CORNY THEY ARE! AND I SURE DON'T MAKE THE SAME FUCKING MISTAKES TIME AND TIME AGAIN LIKE YOU!!
And I sure as hell am not going to underestimate you, even though every thing I've seen, heard, and experienced for myself in that ring, I should.
Because they stakes this week are way, WAY too high.
Tony calms himself, then holds up the belt:Don't delude yourself into thinking this isn't a title match, Ziggy Stardust, because it is. Hell, it probably will go down as the most important title match in your up and down career, and possibly mine. Because Come Fight Night....
You and I decide in that ring who's hardware is the crown jewel of Premiere!
The Glitter King against the man who kills those who dare wear a crown on their head for a living. The man with a billion dumb-fuck nicknames, once again, tangling with the motherfucker who's name says everything you need to know. Delusion, versus evolution.
Need to figure out what you're gonna be at the show, Teo, because if you half step it again, like you tend to do against the elite, you're gonna end up eating another "ah shucks" moment again in that ring....
And one more loss against one of the elites, my faux freaky fuck-tard; it'll prove what many of us suspected...
The only world you're champion of...is the world you cooked up in your head!
[attr="class","mTag"] Tony Savage || 2.75k aprox || bish hope you like
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Scene One: On Camera - Mixed Personalities
The fool who holds the silver in this competition of bests. That’s who I have to face. Sure we could do this like I have been known to do my videos, my speeches. We could have a drone, or a pillow fort. I can talk ‘nonsense’ boast, bitch and yap till the sun ain’t shining no more. But where is the fun in doing things the norm. But I never do things that are considered normal. I didn’t end up where I am at the top of this ladder of success as the First and Current Premier Champion. I didn’t end up here by being the stereotypical asshole that runs his mouth and falls short of the major leagues. Ok so I don’t win all my matches but I always win the war always have always will.
The lamp switches on as Teo sits perched on an armchair tapping his fingers together a slow smirk turns into a smug looking grin as his cocky arrogance begins to show. The room looks bare but the dim light makes it hard to know if it truly is. Teo pauses for a moment letting his fans take in his appearance. His signature platinum locks spray painted glittery hot fuschia. His black eyeliner that makes his eyes pop, smudged and streaked down his glistening cheeks. His outfit bold and daring, the punk side of him or slightly hipster side nowhere to be seen. Instead a sort of anime type over the top pretty boy half edwardian jacket covers the small showman type shirt he has on. A pair of split and ripped leggings show beneath what appears to be some sort of skirt. The Glitter King in his true form is not in any way wearing masculine clothing. The smug look begins to fade away as he tilts his head slightly.
You see I could for all purposes sake, continue my rant and replicate and reuse most of what I have been saying for months but really there is no fun. I am not like you Tony. I don’t copy my old self. In actual fact had you met me five or more years ago I would look very different than I do now. I would act differently too. Some people grow and allow themselves to become better, unlike you some people do not want to conform and become stale. But each to their own. I was like you though. Once upon a time. Angry at the world a rebel without a cause. Some big mouth wannabe, splashing cash and having supposedly no cares. But the thing is? Everyone like you does, they care. You may think you are some hotshot. Some crazed motherfucker who is so big and tough you can do whatever you want. You think that just by ushering your name it sends chills down people’s spines. But it doesn’t. It makes them laugh. I make them laugh too, but the difference between you and I? The Glitter King. The most flirtatious psycho wrestler and not in a good psycho way. Those? Those are acts, they are not me. The speech? The look? The glitter? All an act. All a play.
Don’t get me wrong I am the greatest wrestler here, if I wasn’t I wouldn’t have my pretty little glittered belt now would I? But I am by far not the single greatest wrestler in the world. I know that. I know that I could perfect some of the things I do. But what you fail to realize is. This is a game to me, see how many wrestlers I can annoy. See how easy it is to get the entirety of the fans to hate me because I am in essence a ‘funny’ wrestler. The Glitter King is a joke. But I am the one left laughing. You try to act all hard and tough to get the fans to think of you as a lovable rogue. However I already hold that title too. I beat you to the punch yet again my little imbecilic fool. Say what you want about me and how I have lost the ball or whatever bullcrap you want to come up with. But yet again I beat you to the damn punch. See while you are over there butting heads with the other insanely boring and bland assholes of wrestling, I am here still with my belt. Granted I have not been winning all the time. However I have been giving the fans a show. And really that is what I care about. I have gold, have had plenty of gold but me? I prefer fun, pillow forts, bubble guns, skittle gloop balloon cannons and spitting in the face of all those who oppose me. I will somersault around the ring, play my own wicked version of tag and hell I have even been known to throw a bunch of broken legos into the ring and suplex people on them. Why? Because it is hilarious. To me that is.
A fond smile breaks the expressionless period as his eyes light up at having fun in the ring. Teo twisted his body around a little to lean against one of the arms of the arm chair. Taking a moment to go threw everything in his mind as to how he yet again ended up on top of the heap. The relaxed and playful version of himself being shown above even Teo-Jakobah. Finally allowing himself to show Premier just who Evie is.
Now you can spew you gums about how I am no good or whatever nonsense you want to come up with. The fact remains, the truth hurts. And whatever you say about me remember you simply are just not in my league. I do not fear you Tony. I find you funny. Funny being that you think you are the only one around with the mindset you have. Everyone states continuously that I live in a bubble, in my own little world, in fantasy. But if I did? What kind of twisted reality do you live in hmm? This match between us will show us in the true light of which we have put ourselves in. Me? I am a lovable runt, posh boy turned crazy glitter man. You are a fake black market suitable bad boy wannabe. I put people in their seats make them scream that they hate me, scream that they love me. Parents hate my guts, children aspire to be me. With you the only people wanting anything to do with you is what these American weirdos call trailer trash or in better English terms sketty little skanks. Your moves while somewhat impressive lack the aptitude to be anything that of which can knock me from my very bright spotlight shining pedestal. I am the essence of originality, you simply another form of prosaic repetitive boringness. You lack of imaginative moves and footwork in matches will cause you to fall. The sad thing about it though? Even when I beat you even when the King of Premier beats you, when Teo-Jakobah Ronnie beats you. You will still in a fortnight claim to be oh so scary and oh so bad. When in actuality you cannot fathom, in your poorly underdeveloped brain that has taken way too many hits in order to have a higher IQ than that of a child, that you simply are expectantly just another big bad name in the book of big bad bulldogs who think with their steroid induced cells instead of like a rational person.
There is no way you are walking out the winner, you have to know that. I can get inside your head and twist it all about. Not the hokey cokey but through my use of intellect and agility I can outsmart you in a second. Everyone always talks about how Teo-Jakobah can’t do shit, he can’t even speak. Well just like all the fools before you. I shall allow Teo to be apart of this match, however there is one small difference. One teeny tiny difference that sets this apart. Evie. Evie will be there too. See you know little to nothing about Evie. He has popped up every now and again. But the fact remains you don’t know me at all. See this is my game I am the game master. I make the rules, I break them. I change the rules to suit my needs. You want to buck up like a big boy go ahead. You want to run your mouth like a teenager having a tantrum and swearing at a parent go ahead. I am still King. I am still ruler. This is my kingdom, my realm. Nothing you say or do will take it from me. I can switch teo on in a heartbeat and in a split second switch him off. You think you know what to expect of me just from looking at the past few months. Then it shall be your downfall. You will lose this week, you shall lose to the Queenliest King you ever will lose too. Because while you sit there acting all hard and whatnot? I will be running rings around you. Be careful though…. Because like I said I change the rules if they don’t suit me. I could Shirako you in a second. Dump Glitter on your head. Let you meet the keeper of my title. Shoot bubbles in your face. Run around the ring to make you dizzy or bounce around like a goddamn bouncy ball if I want. At the end of the day. You will lose, I will win, the fans will have a good time and a bad time, I will have a blast. And if you don’t like that outcome? Well tough….
The smug looking grin from earlier now making its home of Evie’s face. He turns once more sitting back in his original position. He is loving this, loving being a mixture of all his gimmicks in one simple form. Showing the world how truly unpredictable he is.
Mes has saids it times and times agains, yous nos likeys its… Come shuts mes ups. Yous won’t because yous can’t. Tonys is justs the sames reallys hes is, hes is fulls of baloneys and nots the yummys kinds. Nos nos nos. Mes is Kings and Kings mes shall stays. Hes can tries to climbs mes ladderers but mes is abouts to knocks its down. Yous are second bests Tonys, thats all yous will evers bes. Bes glads this isn’t for yours beltses otherwise mes would bes takings thats too…
Eeany meeny miny mos, whos wills bes ats the shows? Wills its bes Teos, Evies, ors Eddys? Whos reallys does knows? Neithers neithers Tonys still loses. Eeany meeny miny mos!
Clapping his hands like a child as he often does Eddy leans back against the armchair gleefully singing his little song and cheering when it is finished. Which of the three would be at the show? Only he knows and his eyes then begin to sparkle with playfulness.
Maybes a Teos, a Glitter Kings ready to pranks his ways to victorys. Maybes howevers its is Evies, the intellectuals hipsters ones, ones ready to makes sure yous goes dizzy dizzy a tissues a tissues yous all falls down. Or betterers yets maybes maybes Eddys is the ones. The smarts one withs all the reals powers. The ones nobodys reallys wants to messes withs. Maybes ones, maybes twos. How abouts threes? Or perhaps a forths? How abouts nones? Or simplicys alls of mes, mes and mes personas, mes acts all as ones? Yous don’t knows. Mes don’t knows. But common facts is… Yous will nots survives its. Yous shall nots wins. Nos yeses, nos agains yous cannots wins. This Kingdoms is mes realms and in mes realms wes play mes ways. Mes may however…. Tos starts a traditions gives yous a presents yeses yeses. A silvers medals. Fors eternals seconds places yeses yeses ohs mes likes thats ideas. Eternals seconds places.
Welcomes tos mes games Tonys Baloneys bes preparededs tos loses!
Giggling away Eddy takes a moment in between giggles to finally shut off whatever was taping him. His laugh lingering in all those who watched the video that eventually found its way online.
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Scene Two: Off Camera - Secret to Babies
Sitting at the table with a huge bowl of multicoloured ice cream in front of him Teo looks very happy. A muscelier more tattooed blonde man sat opposite. To anyone on the outside looking in, one would assume this is a date. But with a ever so shiney ring still on his finger and his friend having a black skulled one on the middle finger next to his ring finger it becomes apparent that they are both taken even if the latter is only by slight. The man opposite sits with waffles as his choice and rolls his eyes at the Glitter King’s disregard of freeze brains having delved into his own lucious pudding by taking a huge scoop of ice cream into his mouth. The pair seemingly enjoy the silence that grows as they devour and finish off their delights set before them. Only once each of them have finished does either speak a word.
Dude, how the in the hell you ate that I don’t know.
Oh you know big mouths serve well…
A wiggle of the eyebrows by Teo causes the other blonde to snicker in response before blushing a little and shaking his head. Getting a knowing look from Teo at the blush.
So anyway…. As nice as ice cream is, and as nice as it is to catch up without rainboy around…. Why pray tell are you here? I have a match in less than twenty four hours…. I could be shopping!... Or drinking…. Drinking works too.
Evie you nutcase. As much as drinking works for nine tenths of the time, now is not one. Skit is with Devils. Coz’ well ya know Rosabelle….
Oooooooo…… Oh! My! God! Shopping, we have to go shopping!
Dude! Tizzie is in town with LeLy you can meet up with them and shop. But me and shopping? Dude you be insane if you think I’m down for that….
The look of pure bliss on Teo’s face suddenly changes to that of which states confusion, as his friend cocks an eyebrow at him.
Wait… If rainboy is with him…. Why are you not? And when do I get to meet baby?
In a few weeks. I know I know before you say. But I am here because am pit stopping between them and home, because guess who made the terrible decision to give Rosa to me and Skit whilst he works? And who happened to somehow manage to swing a room off Skit’s ol’ man in order to live on the island so we can care for baba every fortnight for a couple of days?
No way! Dude no offence, you around kids sure. But rainboy? Seriously that kid is better in a zoo! But no seriously his lad gave Devils a room? Has he gone insane? He can’t remember to pay shit.
Dude you know he looks at us all as his weird screwed up kids. Even your runt ass.
Teo smiles at this getting a smile in response from his friendly.
But uh…. Reason I am here? You know kids I don’t so before you go warp whoever you are facing’s mind. You need to spill the secret to happy babies. I’ll get more desert and you text that dude person who runs the fucked up place that hired you and say you shall be a little late to the show kay? Oh and yeah... maybe swap a few 'stories' too?
Fine but only because one my opponent is a pussy boy who always ends up in second place and two? Because I like ice cream…. And As for stories... I have plenty of those. Finally though... Well I can’t let you idiots ruin the poor girl before she even has a chance you dumbfuck...
Shut your mouth fruitcake boy.
A poke of the tongue to one another and the pair split to do as they said, Teo fishes out his phone sending a message to Kaden as his friend begins to queue up once more. The scene then fades away leaving Teo to spill his secrets unheard by those around him all while still dressed in the weird outfit he had on for his video.
1x Premier Fighting World Champion 3x WWH Tag Team Champion 3x WWH HellsGate Champion Reigning Glitter King Founding member of The Mad Tea Party Founding member of Bad Intentions Maker of Wonderland Deathmatch Delusional•Flirtatious•Childlike•Egotistical