He knew Evina would probably be awake soon for her first morning feed so he would try be as quick as possible.
(Butch): Egomaniacal....self-centred.... disrespectful.... douche bag...hmmm....
Butch strokes his thumb and index finger up and down his jaw and chin in a mocking manner.
(Butch): You know Michael, if I didn't know any better, I'd have guessed you'd had a moral epiphany and were describing yourself. Egomaniacal? This is coming from a man who after just over 6 months in the HWA with no real standout victory over anyone noteworthy thinks he's already a living legend in this company? The dictionary definition of egomaniacal is "obsessive love for oneself and one's own needs". I'm sorry but that's you right down to a tee! Self-centred? Well you've already established you don't care for anyone but yourself, your career and totally preoccupied with your own needs; whilst I'm a happily married man now responsible for looking after a baby. Disrespectful douche bag?
Butch can't help but let out a snort of derision upon repeating the last statement.
(Butch): Again, coming from a man who's yet to show anyone in this company a shred of respect apart from Senester but that's only because you're too busy being a sycophantic little weasel with your tongue working its way up his ass. A man who has insulted everyone, including me, my wife, my daughter and my very way of life. You've mocked Hall of Famers in this company who quite literally built this house you've so unceremoniously claimed to be your own and even attacked a handicapped child and a dad trying to protect his son. And you're calling me disrespectful?
You know what you're doing Michael, on each of these occasions when you repeat yourself like a broken record about how much I suck, about how talentless I am, about how my best days are past me and stroking your own ego like you were jacking off when you narcissistically drone on about how awesome you are. You know what you're doing? You're distorting your perceptions to make your reality more palatable; meaning you only hear what you want to hear. You keep telling yourself that you're that damn good, that everything coming out of your mouth is forty-two caret gold when in actuality it comes off as nothing more than a man desperate for acceptance and trying to fit in. Your like the new kid at school who picks on the nerd just to be part of the cool crew. You're nothing more than a non-educated delinquent, Michael James.
A short moment of silence passes. Butch paces about his living room before wandering back to the kitchen, delving into the fridge and coming back out with an plastic bottle of Lucozade Sport. He pushes back on the lid with the base of his thumb, breaking the plastic seal and takes a long drink from the bottle's nozzle.
(Butch): You are right about one thing though, Michael and that's no matter what I do, you're never going to be impressed and I'm never going to achieve that oh-so-rare one of a kind Michael James seal of approval. I could carry the HWA World Championship for the next ten years and defeat every single challenger without breaking a sweat and you'd still call me talentless and not worthy of your time. But you know what? Whoopty-f***ing-Do! 'Cause I really couldn't give a shit what impresses you and what doesn't. Your opinions and points of view are as meaningless to me as any other person in this industry who's called my skills, tenacity and intensity into question.
But make no mistake, I don't proclaim myself to be a hero, contrary again to what you seem to think I've done, so allow me to plagiarise and paraphrase you and say do proper research before you start trying to slander me you inaccurate piece of shit. A hero? I'm far from it and anyone who's watched HWA television in the past three years knows I'm far from a hero. I've doggy-paddled in murky waters that would engulf and fill up your lungs faster than the poison from your cigar tobacco as soon as you'd dip your little yellow toes in, Michael. I've killed people, I've tortured people, I've put my family through hell. No, Michael, I'm no hero and I'm not that conceited to brag as much either.
And are you that delusional to think me knocking your ass out was some kind of claim to fame. You really do love the smell of your shit, don't you? Michael, a claim to fame would accidentally meeting your idol in the queue at TGI Fridays or at the ATM. What I did at the end of Havoc was nothing more than shutting your big mouth and getting you a few million more hits on your YouTube account.
And did I actually hear you describe my title win in the bracket of stealing a Championship? Really?! Are you f***ing kidding me? You think you're victory over Judas was anymore legitimate than my win over Senester? You slithered in like a snake and dethroned Judas Mercury thanks your little briefcase perk. I signed a legitimate contract and defeated Senester fair and square to win the World Title. So tell me Michael, where is the difference? Judas had absolutely no chance beating you did he? He was in no shape to be able to compete against you but that doesn't matter because you we're entitled to cash in your little briefcase and take his championship. Bryan Deas was in no physical condition to take on Senester and so a contract is drafted and I legitimately win my right to face Senester. I then walk down to the ring at Havoc, stand across the ring from him, face him one-on-one, face to face like a man and I beat him fair and square. Stealing championships....
Butch repeats Michael James' accusation again, shaking his head in disgust, contempt coursing through the tone of his voice.
(Butch): What a load of bollocks.... I have three words for you mate: Pot Kettle Black. You're a walking hypocrisy Michael. Every time you open your damn mouth, it's either "I'm the Personification of Perfection", "Butch Parker is a f****ing idiot!" And you call my material old and defective? You said you were a man of your word, didn't you? "He's a f***ing imbecile with no future in HWA" , "He'll never get a shot at the HWA World Championship and what did I say "I'll be the next HWA World Champion" and I was right, wasn't I? And here's me thinking Michael James was a man of his word!
Butch allows a small smile before continuing.
(Butch): Another thing I noticed about you Michael is your need to satisfy your own egotistical tendencies by parading your list of victims around like a pathetic asshole scratching five bar gates into his bed post to keep track of the number of girls he's been with. Well what's good for the goose is good for the gander, Michael. Lets see, Heckler and Kosh, I can't comment as I've never faced them, but then again, they are quite low down the pecking order so it's only natural for you to have faced them and for me not to have. Who else? Judas Mercury? Beaten him. Bryan Deas? Made him tap. Freddie Styles? Beaten him. Stu E Price? Beatenhim too! I'm sensing a pattern here, Michael! But allow me to expand on your premise and take it to a new level. How about Senester, Michael Dredge, Eddie Phoenix, Talon Wilkinson, AC James, Thane Givens, Buff Bridges, Hans von Richtoven, David Hollis, Maniac, Renegade, Xtreme Jay. All former HWA World Champions, some of them Hall of Famers and everything single one of them has fallen victim to me at some point, each and every one of them on their worth ten of you. A word to the wise you next time you want to have a dick-measuring contest, make sure you're not stuffing tube socks down your pants, you'll always get found out one way or another.
But you know what? This tit for tat bullshit is getting really old really fast. You can reply to this if you want. Dissect it piece by piece and attempt to try and make me feel foolish. You can call me all the names under the sun until the cows come home, I really don't care.
As for you Fallen, I highly recommend you sort your priorities out. On one hand your pretty much for all intents and purposes laying claim to Michael James' All Star Championship but on the other your pretty much challenging me again. You're as bad as Michael James himself is making enemies left, right and centre. Soon enough both of you will end up fighting a war on all fronts and when that time comes you'll only have yourselves to blame when you're picking yourselves up off the floor or worse being lifted up off it and strapped to a gurney. Sort your priorities Fallen. Decide who you really want to target and then we'll talk about rectifying the inequity of our match's conclusion. Until then, you best keep a good distance when mentioning my name, Fallen....
....See you guys around.
Butch walks away back up the stairs and back into his and Wisdom's bedroom. Evina is still snoring cutely away as Butch climbs back into bed. He wraps his arms around Wisdom's sleeping frame, gently kissing the nape of her neck, working his way around. Wisdom slowly awakens, a growing smile spread across her face and she pulls the duvet over their heads and the scene fades to black.
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