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Society sucks; especially ratty kids like Loco
Topic Started: Mar 20 2005, 08:05 PM (38 Views)
Brad
Unregistered

We fade in to a bustling, busy street. The pavement is dirty, litter is blowing around everywhere, and people are rushing around, going about their business. In a little alcove, a man, filthy and dishevelled, is seen inserting a syringe into himself, and shooting himself up with any manner of substance that happens to be in his possession. From behind the camera, out walks Bradley Johnson. He walks over to the junkie, and crouches down before him

Johnson: This devilry will take you straight to hell. And you will die sooner than God willed it. I pity you. But, rest assured that Satan will take no pity on you. You are the condemned. And I fear that it is too late to change that.

Junkie: Ffffffuck you.

Johnson shakes his head, gets up, and moves on. However, he only gets about twenty metres down the street before he is stopped by three young men, no older than nineteen, all similarly clad in tracksuits, fake jewellery and fake Burberry baseball caps. They’re all three of them clearly Chavs, and Johnson’s contempt is pretty clear on his face

Chav #1: Ere moosh, you spreadin’ God’s good word like?

Johnson: That I am.

Chav #2: Shut up, yeah you will.

Chav #3: Why you fuckin’ believe in god anyhow? God don’t even exist, fuck wad.

As the Chavs stand, expectant of an answer, Johnson just shakes his head

[v]Chav #1:[/b] Can’t answer ‘im, can ya moosh?

Johnson: I can, but I don’t want to waste my breath on morons like you.

Chav #1: Ere nor, you fuckin’ startin’ me?

Johnson: Not really. You see, people like you are why I believe in God. If I didn’t believe that God had a plan for morons like you, I’d be pretty suicidal about your very existence.

Chav #3: Fuck you. Let’s smash this fucker, eh?

Having made the suggestion, it is this Chav that throws the first punch. And the last. In mid-swing, Johnson catches the arm, and twists it to a sickening angle, causing the Chav to drop to the ground, yelling, his arm broken. Johnson turns to the other two, who are looking back in shock at what they just saw happen

Johnson: This is an example. My patience with society is running out. And so is God’s. I won’t tolerate it. Not any more. People like you have run God’s patience to its end. There is no forgiveness now. No turning back. Only punishment. And people like me to carry it out. Learn this well.

And with that, he walks away, leaving the Chavs to tend to their crippled buddy. Down Linthorpe Road he walks, until he reaches the hallowed halls of his local Subway. He motions for the cameraman to sit down, while he goes to the counter and places his order. He then takes a seat opposite from the cameraman, and prepares to vent his spleen

Johnson: What you just saw was a prime example of the moral deficit of modern society. A man in need of help turns away guidance to God. Youths disrespect their elders and betters. People question my faith in God. His word is defied and defiled on every street corner. This world is going to hell. And I’ll be damned if I don’t try to do my part to stop it.

He pauses, for just a moment

Johnson: The way things are today, everything has to be “new wave”. Things done properly and traditionally are laughed at. They’re called “archaic”, and “obsolete” and “uncool”. So the traditional stylings of a 30-year-old Christian who advocates wrestling in the proper way are always going to be laughed at. But they’ve not let me down so far. Longevity is a virtue. I’ve seen new wave guys come and go. No one on Tuesday Night Throwdown has lasted as long as myself, Chris Maclay and Silent Rage. And what links us? We all wrestle in the proper way. The young guns come in with their new wave, make a little splash, and then vanish into obscurity. It’s the way of things. The traditions last through. El Lobo Loco is no different.

He smiles

Johnson: He comes in and says he’s going to change the way things are. He becomes a co-holder of the FSC, the title that really only Jim O’Brien and myself can claim to have made any significance of. I rebuilt that title’s reputation, so what do you and Kuriyama do? You drive it right back to where Max Corona and Savage took it by becoming co-champions. Oops, there goes all the worth that the belt ever had. Two guys can’t hold one singles title. Makes it cheap. Worthless. Needless. Like a new wave wrestler, it lacks the ability to last.

He leans back, and as he pauses, the sandwich arrives. It’s a meatball one, naturally, as they’re bloody gorgeous

Johnson: Lovely stuff.

He takes a big bite out of the sandwich, before continuing

Johnson: You see, Loco, you shouldn’t really interest me. Like I say, I’ve seen young punks like you come and go. Only thing that’s caught my attention about you is your demeanour. You’re arrogant. You’re cocky. And you’ll pick a fight with anyone. You’ve got some spirit in you, Loco. You just need to learn a little respect, and a few wrestling skills, and you’ll go a long way. I can offer you the help. But, you’ll be far too cocky to accept my offer.

He shakes his head, and has some more sandwich

Johnson: But, as a sign of good faith, I’m going to accept your offer. Next week, you and me, hardcore rules. You’re on. It’ll be a lesson for you – never, ever underestimate Bradley Johnson. Because though hardcore mayn’t be my game, you’ll be unpleasantly surprised at how good I am at it.

He smiles

Johnson: But this week, we play by my rules. Mano et Mano, under straight wrestling rules. This week I set the example. Next week, I teach the lesson. You will be taught discipline, Loco. And you will feel the wrath of God.

Fade out
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