[ Post a Response | HWA Message Board ]
Posted by Tobias Clarke
on February 1, 2026, 8:32 am, in reply to "Greatness is not as close as you thought"
We’re in a spa, like others before, a non-descript and yet well apportioned spa.
Relaxing music is being piped in from speakers hidden from view while in the center of the room is a comfortable looking wicker chair, replete with cushions and a small table next to it. Sat on a round tray is a traditional Japanese tea set, from which a small measure of rice tea has been poured and is currently emitting wafting ripples of steam upwards.
Enter Tobias Clarke, white fluffy robe his only clothing. He sits himself down and raises the small measure of rice tea to his lips.
A few moments pass as he mulls the taste.
Seemingly appreciative of it, he sets the small cup back down and gestures off camera.
Enter two others, one a masseuse with a blank porcelain mask affixed to her, obscuring any discernible features while the other is a poor HWA employee, bottle of chilled Evian in one hand and a notepad in the other.
The notepad is handed first, Tobias flicking it open and settling it on one knee.
Tobias waves a hand up and towards the masseuse, indicating for her to begin working on his shoulders.
The HWA employee meanwhile stands awkwardly, bottle of Evian still in hand but not yet dismissed.
(Tobias): Now I had Sam here…
The flare of the eyes from the employee indicates that, as per usual, he’s wide of the mark when it comes to the name.
(Tobias): … do me a solid and catch up on the drivel and nonsense that comes out of everyone else on the roster. Handily distilled into bullet points…
He glances at the writing, squinting somewhat before looking up at the employee.
(Tobias): Not the worst handwriting I’ve seen, but not the best either buddy. B minus.
The employee is genuinely at a crossroads now, how to react in a way that won’t trigger Tobias.
Fortunately for him, Tobias focuses his attention on the camera almost immediately and ignores him once more.
(Tobias): So here we are, ready to see what utter sh*t they’ve been talking about. Daddy Draconis and the Incest Clan… f*ck’s sake, I’m not paid enough for this…
He gestures at the employee who rapidly unscrews the bottle of Evian and hands Tobias it.
Taking a deep swig of the chilled liquid, he sighs and slumps back into the wicker chair.
(Tobias): Right hosers, let’s do this.
Looking down the text, he comes across the first thing that catches his eye.
(Tobias): “The boy thinks he can get under my skin with a mocking drawl and a need to mock our family name”…
He snorts with amusement.
(Tobias): Buddy, you do that plenty enough just by being you.
He glances back down at the notepad.
(Tobias): “He doesn’t know what it means to fight with pride or the heart of a family behind you.” Well, duh buddy. Pride only gets you so far. Skill and ability are what’s needed. And I…
He pats himself on the chest smugly.
(Tobias): … have that in spades. And again with the family thing. Jesus H Christ buddy, you’re gripping on to that one thing harder than the class retard holds onto the pet hamster.
Another sip of Evian follows, as the masseuse works the muscles at the nape of his neck.
(Tobias): “They see him making a mockery of their father, and that stings. I refuse to let anyone disrespect our family name.” Again buddy, that’s all on you. Really, when you think about it… which, y’know… is difficult for you… but you’re really just inflicting cruelty and humiliation on them. You ride around in that bus of yours like a travelling freakshow, hawking Jacky and God of War and what’s her name… goth girl… yeah, hawking them out and showcasing just how f*cking shit they are in-ring. Like outside of it, they’re mouth breathers, they’re gormless glass eyed f*ckwits who can barely string a sentence together without regurgitating the same sh*t that you spout. Family. Southern Pride. “Gee paw, my knees hurt from blowing uncle hick back there.” That’s bad enough buddy.
But in-ring? Jesus wept, they make Jey Uso look like The Hitman himself.
Spitting those words out, he looks disgusted at himself (a rare thing) for having insulted a Canadian treasure in such a manner.
Another sip of the Evian follows, as he calms himself.
(Tobias): “I want to start slow, not let him see the fire building inside me. The moment he underestimates me, that’s when I strike. I’ll show him that beneath this southern drawl lies a warrior who respects the sport but doesn’t fear pain…”
He turns to the HWA employee, almost surprised that he’s still standing where he is.
(Tobias): Did he really say this?
The employee just nods, not trusting himself to say anything in case it’s the wrong thing.
A moment passes, before Tobias tilts his head back and erupts with laughter.
(Tobias): Let me be clear buddy, what you are, is a pastiche. A joke. If only you’d remained the little twinkle in your dad’s eyes when he clocked his sister…
A loud theatrical sigh follows as he shakes his head gently from side to side.
(Tobias): But no buddy, here you are. Looming out of the backstage corridors like a Temu American Badass and mentioning ‘family’ more times than even what that bald f*cker Vin Diesel wishes he could get away with…
He turns his attention back to his notepad.
(Tobias): Sh*t, he said more… urgh… let’s see, ‘swagger is the same as skill’... f*ck me, class is clearly not in session you old windbag, clearly not ever paying attention. I’m all about the skill.
Another sip of the Evian follows while the masseuse moves to his shoulders now.
(Tobias): “My win rate drops faster than my confidence?” Props buddy, props. Who wrote that for you?
The dismissive noise at the back of his throat says all that means to on that front.
(Tobias): Then step into the ring with me…
The notepad is tipped onto the ground while one hand goes to the bridge of his nose. Closing his eyes, he calms his breathing.
(Tobias): Billy. That’s literally what’s happening at ‘Art of War’ you dumbf*ck. We even did a press conference… fortunately not a long one, you genuinely are a painfully dull man to be around and I’m afraid of catching stupid, but yes, I’m finally getting my chance to put you back on the road in that sh*t heap of a bus and let you ride south again with the tail between your legs.
Class is in session? Buddy, it always has been if you’d ever bothered to open your eyes and ears and see what’s happening. Branson gets it. This federation is full of unworthies. Riddled with people who aren’t fit to lace the boots of the greats. Littered with people just coasting by or latching on to others for a sniff of glory. I stand alone. I don’t need anyone else. I rise and rise and rise because I am perfection and the next HWA World Champion. You swirl at the bottom, stinking of sh*t and sticking to others who couldn’t stand on the shoulders of giants even if they had a f*cking ladder to help them get up there.
You. Monkey. Jaxson. God of War. Goth girl. None of you deserve to be here. None of you are good enough. None of you.
With a wave of his hand, the camera fades to black as both it and the other employee make their escape.
Message Thread
« Back to index