Post by johnnydorn on Mar 7, 2021 23:14:26 GMT
Connie DelSesto has been an English teacher and the head of the drama club at Bricktown Middle School for 12 years. Every year she takes her students on a field trip, usually to the Big City to see a national tour of a Broadway play, but this year Connie’s decided to shake things up a little.
She heard in the teachers’ lounge that Cheap Pops Pro is holding their first major card at The Bricktown theater. Her principal is a big Jersey Jim fan and also did coke with him in the 80s. After preparing her pitch on how “Wrestling is an Art Form,” and telling him that if he didn’t approve it she’d narc out his affinity for Colombian marching powder to their superintendent, her trip was approved.
“Now everyone,” Connie addresses the drama club on the plebian side of the blue carpet, “I want you to remember that even though it’s outside of school hours we are still representing Bricktown Middle. Understood?”
“Yes Miss DelSesto,” comes the unenthused chorus accompanied by some secret eye rolls in the far back.
“Hey look,” a boy says and points. “Isn’t that Johnny Dorn up ahead?”
“Oh wow, he’s cute,” a blonde girl replies.
“Pfft,” her friend, a brunette, scoffs. “Gregg Peake is cuter.”
“Isn’t he a spoopy boy now, though?” the first kid asks.
“Shh!” Connie admonishes, as they all inch closer along the blue velvet ropes to where “Wrigleyville’s Finest” is standing next to April Mayflowers, who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else than next to the doucheshade wearing, BANG guzzling, AXE-body spray smelling, Maestro of Murphy’s Bleachers …. Johnny Dorn.
“With me now is Bembe Brightwell’s opponent for the Cheap Pops EXTRAVAGANZA tonight, Johnny Dorn, and Johnny, I have to ask, you and Bem--”
April is unceremoniously cut off by Johnny’s index finger in her face.
“Save it.”
“Excuse me?”
Johnny very slowly removes his sunglasses, slips them into his track jacket pocket, and glares at April.
“‘You’re a saint compared to Johnny Dorn.’ That’s what you told that stutterin’ pissboy dressed up in that nightmare fuel get-up earlier. Not exactly ‘fair and balanced’ journalism, is it April. So take a hike, I’ll be givin’ your viewers the quick five on my own.”
April stands there, stunned, while Johnny snatches the microphone out of her hands and shoos her. When she doesn’t move, he makes an aggressive motion like he’s gonna charge her. She finally scampers a few feet away and Johnny motions for the cameraman to zoom in.
“Oh, he’s about to perform a monologue!” Connie whispers, excited, to the class, as Johnny shrugs his shoulders and cracks his neck. A few students pull out their cell phones and start recording also.
“It’s no secret that Bembe Brightwell and I don’t fuckin’ like each other. This is a match that’s been brewin’ for months now, ever since that needle-dicked little snitch ratted Santana out to the cops at CARMAGEDDON and tried to pin it on everyone else in Cheap Pops, including me. Little teacher’s pet, lookin’ for the gold star of approval. There’s no honor amongst thieves in wrestling, in case you didn’t know. There ain’t nobody’s totally pure of heart.
“Bembe Brightwell wants you to believe that he’s a good guy, that he’s above board, but he and I have been taking swipes on Twitter, we’ve been jawing in promos and I know all of that’s a big fuckin’ act. And now you do too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fakin’ that stutter, just to get all of your sympathy and make himself seem more likeable to all of you fuckin’ simps. I’m gonna finally find out, though. It’s the biggest night in Cheap Pops’ short history and Big Tone’s doin’ me a solid by letting me get my hands on that fuckin’ goody two shoes.
“I’m not gonna rest until I make Bembe’s life miserable. It starts tonight, when I drag him to a classic and steal the whole show. Every outside booking that fuck takes, I’m gonna be there. He’s never gonna be rid of me. And it’s gonna continue on and on and on until I’m at the top of the mountain holding the CPPW World Heavyweight Title, because that’s gonna be the one thing he, and nobody else, is gonna be able to stand.
“And when I finally decide that I’m done with him?”
Johnny chuckles.
“Bembe Brightwell is gonna be nothin’ more … than a memory.”
She heard in the teachers’ lounge that Cheap Pops Pro is holding their first major card at The Bricktown theater. Her principal is a big Jersey Jim fan and also did coke with him in the 80s. After preparing her pitch on how “Wrestling is an Art Form,” and telling him that if he didn’t approve it she’d narc out his affinity for Colombian marching powder to their superintendent, her trip was approved.
“Now everyone,” Connie addresses the drama club on the plebian side of the blue carpet, “I want you to remember that even though it’s outside of school hours we are still representing Bricktown Middle. Understood?”
“Yes Miss DelSesto,” comes the unenthused chorus accompanied by some secret eye rolls in the far back.
“Hey look,” a boy says and points. “Isn’t that Johnny Dorn up ahead?”
“Oh wow, he’s cute,” a blonde girl replies.
“Pfft,” her friend, a brunette, scoffs. “Gregg Peake is cuter.”
“Isn’t he a spoopy boy now, though?” the first kid asks.
“Shh!” Connie admonishes, as they all inch closer along the blue velvet ropes to where “Wrigleyville’s Finest” is standing next to April Mayflowers, who looks like she’d rather be anywhere else than next to the doucheshade wearing, BANG guzzling, AXE-body spray smelling, Maestro of Murphy’s Bleachers …. Johnny Dorn.
“With me now is Bembe Brightwell’s opponent for the Cheap Pops EXTRAVAGANZA tonight, Johnny Dorn, and Johnny, I have to ask, you and Bem--”
April is unceremoniously cut off by Johnny’s index finger in her face.
“Save it.”
“Excuse me?”
Johnny very slowly removes his sunglasses, slips them into his track jacket pocket, and glares at April.
“‘You’re a saint compared to Johnny Dorn.’ That’s what you told that stutterin’ pissboy dressed up in that nightmare fuel get-up earlier. Not exactly ‘fair and balanced’ journalism, is it April. So take a hike, I’ll be givin’ your viewers the quick five on my own.”
April stands there, stunned, while Johnny snatches the microphone out of her hands and shoos her. When she doesn’t move, he makes an aggressive motion like he’s gonna charge her. She finally scampers a few feet away and Johnny motions for the cameraman to zoom in.
“Oh, he’s about to perform a monologue!” Connie whispers, excited, to the class, as Johnny shrugs his shoulders and cracks his neck. A few students pull out their cell phones and start recording also.
“It’s no secret that Bembe Brightwell and I don’t fuckin’ like each other. This is a match that’s been brewin’ for months now, ever since that needle-dicked little snitch ratted Santana out to the cops at CARMAGEDDON and tried to pin it on everyone else in Cheap Pops, including me. Little teacher’s pet, lookin’ for the gold star of approval. There’s no honor amongst thieves in wrestling, in case you didn’t know. There ain’t nobody’s totally pure of heart.
“Bembe Brightwell wants you to believe that he’s a good guy, that he’s above board, but he and I have been taking swipes on Twitter, we’ve been jawing in promos and I know all of that’s a big fuckin’ act. And now you do too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fakin’ that stutter, just to get all of your sympathy and make himself seem more likeable to all of you fuckin’ simps. I’m gonna finally find out, though. It’s the biggest night in Cheap Pops’ short history and Big Tone’s doin’ me a solid by letting me get my hands on that fuckin’ goody two shoes.
“I’m not gonna rest until I make Bembe’s life miserable. It starts tonight, when I drag him to a classic and steal the whole show. Every outside booking that fuck takes, I’m gonna be there. He’s never gonna be rid of me. And it’s gonna continue on and on and on until I’m at the top of the mountain holding the CPPW World Heavyweight Title, because that’s gonna be the one thing he, and nobody else, is gonna be able to stand.
“And when I finally decide that I’m done with him?”
Johnny chuckles.
“Bembe Brightwell is gonna be nothin’ more … than a memory.”