𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖇𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖞 𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊.

[vaevictisbd]

Safe to say the Haggard Boys have been getting restless as of late. They've been walking on some eggshells with Hank getting healed up from his injuries he obtained in his World Championship fight months prior, and Jack has had to not only coach Clancy into being a formidable wrestler in his absence, but also try to keep his cool as everything around them starts to turn to shit. Their TLC match being last-minute changed into a 2-out-of-3 falls match in an attempt to get the Tag Team Championships off them, though they'd never admit it, was done by the skin of their teeth. Jack was becoming unhinged. He was sleeping less and less, he was feeling his blood boil at the very thought of being in an IPW ring. Especially after his fluke loss to Nate Pierce, knowing the finals of the Infinite Power Tag Tournament approaching, and the subsequent defense of their titles; there was no time for this bullshit. The law of the land needed to be laid down; they weren't taking this shit anymore.

The scene felt cold, freezing even with the low buzzing of the meat-lockers freezer blasting in the background. This was Clancy's place, where he finds peace and tranquility as he takes a meat cleaver to the dead carcass of some cow harvested for their flesh. A butchers smock painted with the red ichor of his subject, gloves and goggles stained with that similar shade. Jack Haggard was holding both sets of IPW Tag Team Championships. One being carried in his hand nearly dragging on the floor behind him as he paced back and forth, one that bared the name of Clancy Haggard, and the other on his shoulder, his prized possession. Hank had a book in hand, reading it quietly, a small palm-sized bible one would find in a hotel room and, chances are, he probably stole it from one. Jack's eyes shot toward the camera's lens.

Jack Haggard: I think it's safe to say that us Haggard Boys are experiencing that old adage; it gets awful lonely at the top. Shit has been slowing down to a crawl, things have been getting awful repetitive. Seems like even the Bossman is running out of bodies to feed to the woodchipper already. Shit gettin' real desperate. This whole tournament publicity stunt to try and breed some new life into the division has been nothin' but a complete and utter failure. Let's be honest with ourselves for a minute, who's surprised by that? None of 'em got what it takes to make it big in the land we rule. Owen Gonsalves and Bryan Williams? Flaked. Tarah Nova and her bastard son Otto? Got punked out. Now you got a tournament final with the Mickey Mouse School Shooter Clubhouse, grown-ass women livin' the Tweenage Dream, and oh would you look at that? Ol' reliable gettin' dusted off again. Price and Nate Pierce bum asses getting another shot at the gold they keep failin' to capture. These championships me and my brother's been carrying through the thick of it, slowly becomin' the greatest tag team -- not in IPW cause we got that on lock from day one -- but in the entire world right now.

Jack slams his palm repeatedly into the plate of his championship belt, emotionally fueled with a lot of pent-up frustrations.

Jack Haggard: The whole world scared of us. That's the truth to it. IPW put out the call and most said "nah, we don't wanna fucking with them boys. They're too bad, they're too mean -- they'd eat us alive" and rightfully so. Shit, they were the real brave ones cause they knew they didn't have what it takes. The ones that did answer the call? They were the blissfully unaware, man. They didn't know what they were gettin' themselves into. They just wanted the glory, they didn't have the grit to get it. Now we got a tournament final just to see who gonna be served up to us next and I'll be real with you all; none y'all look appetizing to the champs. 

Clancy Haggard: Y'ALL DRY AS FUCK!

Hank Haggard Jr: We'd turn y'all back without even saying grace to the good lord above.

Jack Haggard: All filling, no flavor. And we are gettin' real damn sick of it now. We've been fed nothin' but the same old stale shit for months now; Spike, Price, Pierce -- they all got our bite marks on em cause we ate 'em up and we spat 'em out. They think a few fluke singles match wins meant some shit, but they ain't nothing but benefiting off the conspiracy goin' on around here to try and keep us anchored. They wanna rattle our cage, shit in our dinners; make us more mad then we already are so we give 'em an excuse to hand us our walkin' papers. Cause IPW can't handle us. IPW ain't capable of satiating us.

Clancy Haggard: THEY CAN'T DIG UP ENOUGH BODIES FOR US TO PUT BACK IN THE GROUND.

Hank Haggard Jr: Don't get no last rites.

Jack Haggard: And why would they? Why should the weak be celebrated for failing? IPW think they got us on a leash, tellin' us to behave or else. Or else what? You gon' let the division die? Or else you gon' retire these championships with some bum ass fuckers that couldn't beat us for 'em? Nah, we done with that. We done coloring inside the lines, man. We done playin' by these pussy ass rules. We damn sick and tired of y'all trying to make Chaos Theory look like they are competition for us.

Clancy Haggard: YEAH, THE ONLY MAN THEY BEAT IS JACK BY HIMSELF.

Jack Haggard: What the f--

Hank Haggard Jr: Beatin' Jack don't mean a damn thing.

Jack Haggard: I am going to put you right back into that head brace if ya' keep talkin' shit! And I sure as fuck ain't gon' help using the wire cutters to get it off ya next time. Point is, we're gettin' restless out here. We gettin' mad bored of the same ol' shit. We out here pretendin' we're grindin' when we're not even gettin' our whistles wet on blood of good competition; we're fed nothin' but losers man. And this is what's next for us? This is supposed to cleanse our pallets for whichever garbage-ass team wins this prestigious little tournament you got goin' on? You give us more losers?!

Hank Haggard Jr: Das Wunder Hoe and Swam Lake Drowner.

Jack Haggard: ... That was out-of-character cultured of you.

Clancy Haggard: NAH, HE JUST SAW THE POSTER FOR IT ONE TIME.

Hank Haggard Jr: First you take my tag belt now you take my punchline?!

Jack Haggard: See, this is the shit they want. They want us fightin' amongst ourselves. That is why they still want Clancy to defend the Tag Team Championship even though their doctors, apparently, cleared Hank from his broken jaw. They see Clancy as a weakness. They want him to be the flaw in the Dead End Express.

Clancy Haggard: ...

Jack Haggard: You know that right? That's why they got us fightin' these weak little girls instead of fightin' some real prime beef. They don't think you got what it takes, man. They don't think you can even beat Illania Karn and Gennifer Swan.

Clancy Haggard: ...!

Jack Haggard: What you gonna do about it, my brother? What you gonna do abo--.

Clancy Haggard: I'M GOING TO PUT THOSE WOMEN IN THEIR PLACE!

Jack Haggard: ...

Hank Haggard Jr: ...

Clancy Haggard: I'M GONNA BRUISE EM UP! I'M GONNA MAKE EM BLEED! I'M GONNA SHOW THEM THE ABSOLUTE HORRORS AND VIOLENCE OF A MAN!

Jack Haggard: I...

Clancy Haggard: CAUSE I'M THE MAN AROUND HERE! I'M THE CHAMP! I DESERVE THE STEAKS! THESE BITCHES BETTER HAVE MY DINNER READY ON TIME, AND LORD HELP THEM IF IT'S BURNT!

Jack Haggard: .... Shit that got real real quick but you know what? That's the fire we need from ya, man. That's the fire we need to burn this shit down if we gotta. Cause we ain't going to get anything out of these two. Look at em! You see their last candid? They were worried about breakfast, man. They were worried about warm oats and shit. Nothin' strong ever came from eatin' oatmeal. They ain't shit compared to us, man. We are blood. They're just two girls livin' in the same shit apartment talkin' about art galleries and other dumb shit that don't mean a damn thing to us.

Clancy Haggard: WE MAKE ART TOO! WE MAKE JACKSON POLLOCK PAINTINGS OF GORE ON THE CANVAS!

Jack Haggard: Shit, when the fuck did you two go out for an art & culture day? But I like that. Yeah, Illy proud of her art and shit but an artist in the jungle ain't gonna kill the lions with a pen, man. Pen ain't mightier than anything around here. We the mightiest things goin' in this place, and that indecisiveness that caused you to lose that tournament? That's gonna get you killed out here; walkin' into our habitat like it a walk through some bitch-ass museum.

Hank Haggard Jr: Walkin' through the valley of the shadow of death. 

Jack Haggard: And you know what you'll find in the end, Ladies? Absolutely fuckin' nothin'. You'll go back to your sitcom ass lookin' apartment, you'll eat your ice cream, you'll watch your chick flix until you feel better about yaselves. And you'll go to bed where you'll toss 'n turn knowin' you fought the most legit team in the rasslin' world today. And you didn't have a chance in hell.