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Post by paulmontuori on Sept 30, 2022 18:34:36 GMT
I’m a big deal.
Like a huge fucking deal.
So fucking big that Hollywood has taken notice. Again.
Welcomed me back with open arms.
I’ve yet to receive an apology from the Academy, but I’m sure once I’m nominated for my next role they’ll come crawling back.
Oh wait, haven’t you heard?
Your KING is making his way back onto the silver screen!
That’s right, ol’ Paul Montuori has been cast as the lead in one of Splat’s new pictures. Some kind of buddy cop movie. Plot doesn’t matter though, guaranteed to gross over a hundred milly with your KING starring in it.
Trust me, this is a big deal. They don’t just give roles out to anyone. At least not the great roles. Of course they’re always going to need C Listers like the heretic Jason Long or the guy with the pedo mustache Isaac Otto. Those guys barely get SAG minimum.
Not like your KING. I’m making the big bucks! Piece of the action! The whole nine yards! And why wouldn’t I?! Being the star of the movie. The entire reason people are even going to spend their hard earned money to buy tickets to the show.
Not much unlike PWE coming to their senses..
See, in case you weren’t paying attention at the beginning. I get it, I’m handsome. I take people’s breaths away at first glance. It’s OK, it’s a normal reaction to seeing me..
I’m a big deal.
Like a huge fucking deal.
The kinda deal where even after losing to the lamest dood in this business, even lamer than Dane Preston, they still shot me up the card. Like they strapped a jetpack to me and gave me the controls. Bookers know no one gets higher than me.
I know they’re hoping they get the Paul Montuori that dominated during the end of Fight’s run. The KING that stayed at the top of the card. KING people were worried about facing. Worried their career would never recover if their KING unleashed a verbal lashing on.
Look at James Raven and his buddy Shawn Warstein, they ain’t been the same..
Sorry fellas, ya know I still heart you..
But there’s time for business talk later. And best believe after that fuck cost me my dignity against Damien I got plenty to say..
Nah, right now though, I want to focus on a bright, shining moment in my life.
In my career.
The beginning of my resurgence.
Beginning of my comeback story.
Redemption Song.
Start the climb. The climb back to the top of this business.
Back where your KING belongs.
Back in the title hunt.
Back on the silver screen..
Now I’m not going to lie and say I wasn’t a bit anxious to get back into acting. Those first day jitters though. It was like the first time I banged Michelle. So much anxiety leading up to it. Running through every scenario, every position in my head beforehand. Should I start with cunnilingus then hit missionary and finish doggy? Should I eat some ass? Duh. I wanted to make sure I was at my peak performance. But once we got started, bruh it was magic. Like we were destined to fuck. And I know the same thing is going to happen once the director yells action, the butterflies will fly away. Acting and fucking are like riding a bike..
Naturally I had to bring Michelle with me on my first day of shooting. If you haven’t been paying attention for what? Almost a year meow, she’s always been my rock. Been able to hold me together when I started to get into my head. She always knew how to reel me back in. Even though my relationship has been a detriment to my career. Every promotion hating on how much screen time she gets in my promos. But fuck it, I’m in love. For like the first time ever. Sorry I don’t know how to act.. And anyways, who else was I supposed to talk to on set? The cast and crew? Those fucking peasants? Puhlease, they’re not worthy of small talk with your KING. Plus I love doing everything with her.
Yeah I love her and talk about her a bunch, get over it..
We pull up to the gate for the Splat Network studios. I fix my hair, riding in a convertible was always a good time in Hollywood but it always messed up my beautiful mane. The security guard steps out of his booth.
“Name?” He asks. Name, really? I pull my sunglasses up and rest them on top of my head. Maybe he can’t see my beautiful face behind the sunglasses.
“Paul Montuori, duh,” I say.
“Paul Montuori? And what’s your business here today?”
“Seriously? I’m the Star in a movie they’re filming here.”
“A star, huh?”
“Thee STAR!”
“Sorry, Star, I don’t see you on the list. You sure you’re in the right place? I heard OPW is filming down the block.”
“OP.. How dare you! Allow me in at once or I’ll have your job!”
“I’m sorry sir, but if you’re not on the list.”
“Fuck your list. Do you not recognize Wrestling’s KING when you see him?” Michelle chimes in.
“Wait, you’re Jason Long?” The guard asks, looking at me skeptically.
“Jason who? How dare thou besmirch my name like that! You’re joking, right? Is this some kind of prank?” I ask, looking around for the cameras.
“No joke sir.. Oh wait, here you are. I apologize, I was looking in the wrong section. You said you were the star of the movie so I didn’t bother to look at the list for those with only a day pass.”
“Day pass?”
“Here you go sir,” the guard says, handing me a badge that reads VISITOR.
“This must be some mistake,” I reply. “No way am I gonna go through this everyday to get a pass.”
“I don’t know sir, I just work here. Go ahead and park your car into one of the spots behind me. You’re going to be on Lot 6. Have a splatastical day,” he says as he leans back in his booth and raises the bar. I pull in, parking into one of the first spots I come too. I step out as does Michelle.
“This is Lot 1, do they actually expect us to walk the rest of the way?” Michelle asks.
“The disrespect,” I reply as I grab her hand and start to trek down to whereever the fuck Lot 6 is. We watch as B and C List wrestlers are being whisked by in golf carts. Fuckers couldn’t even lace my boots.. As we approach Lot 6, the costumes start to change from cowboys and Native Americans I got sense to cops.
“Hey you,” I call to someone holding a walkie talkie. “Double shot espresso in my trailer in 15.”
“Make that two,” Michelle chimes in.
We continue making our way towards the trailers. I reach over and grab someone’s clipboard out of their hands, blessing him with my autograph before giving it back. He looks down at my autograph and then back up at me, confused. I loved that face. That Why am I so lucky to be blessed with an autograph from Paul Montuori? face.
“You’re welcome kid.”
“He’s just going to sell that and leave his pathetic life around,” Michelle says.
“I’m here on this planet to touch lives,” I reply.
“Oh Paul, you’re such a great guy,” Michelle says as she pulls me in for a lip lock.
“Mr. Montuori?” I hear as Michelle lets go of me as one hand goes to wipe the lipstick and spit off my face and the other hand goes to cover the Monty Python who’s trying to make a cameo in this promo. As the blood slowly starts to fill back into my brain I see a PA standing before me.
“Of course I am he,” I reply. “Who do I complain to about being treated like a commoner and made to walk?”
“Uhm.. I guess your agent?”
“Michelle, remind me to remind you to chew his ass out.”
“With pleasure,” she says with that devilish smirk on her face. I’d bang her right meow if this dummy wasn’t staring at us. Maybe I’d show him a thing or two. Oh wait, I can go bang her in my baller ass trailer. I look around at the trailers, trying to find my name.
“So uh.. Where’s my trailer?” I ask.
“Oh, you don’t have a trailer,” the PA replies. “We’ve set up a dressing area for the extras just over here. So yeah, if we stay on schedule you’ll be needed in a couple of hours.”
“What do you mean he doesn’t have a trailer? Do you know who he is?” Michelle asks but isn’t really asking.
“I uh..”
“Uh.. Uh.. Today junior! This is absolute madness. I am a KING, a Wrestling GAWD and I will not be treated like some commoner. Made to dress behind a curtain like I’m trying on a pair of jeans at Ross. How degrading!”
“Completely disrespectful that a man of his stature wouldn’t have his own trai,” Michelle says before stopping and looking over at me. “Please don’t tell me you shop at Ross.”
“What? Who pays retail for jeans?”
“I for sure thought you’d be too boujie for Ross. And with all that shit you’re always talking. You said I looked tacky last week when I was wearing that top.”
“Girl, that top was so last season. I was doing you a favor.”
“Well, while I’d love to sit and chat, I have to get back to work. To help real stars. The hair and make-up trailer is three trailers down, I think they’re waiting for you if you want to head there now.”
“Hair? Nah, I’m good.”
“You’re good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“I don’t understand..”
“He means just not anyone touches his hair. It’s insured for more than you’ll make in your lifetime,” Michelle says, rescuing me from further conversation with this peasant.
“Whatever,” the PA says, turning around and walking off.
“Come on P, let’s see if any of these stylists are any good,” Michelle says as starts walking towards the hair and makeup trailer.
“Are my eyes deceiving me or is that ol’ Paulie Montuori?!” I hear a familiar voice behind me. I turn around and sure enough..
“Vhodka? What are you doing here?”
“I’m in the movie.”
“What? Wait,” I say as I turn to see a sign on the trailer reading ‘Vhodka Black’. “Is this your trailer?”
“Yeah, way nicer than the one back in Bent Fork.”
“Of course you get a trailer.”
“People like me more I guess.”
“As long as that pretender Jason Long doesn’t have a trailer here.”
“Who?”
“Exactly.. How’s Vincenzo?”
“Beautiful as always.”
“Make sure you tell’em how much I miss him.”
“Look at this bitch,” I hear Michelle say as she comes from behind me.
“Well if it isn’t biggest skank in wrestling,” Vhodka replies. They stare at each other with stank ass looks on their faces for a few moments before breaking out in smiles and hugging each other.
“Wait, you’re in this movie too?” Michelle finally asks.
“Yeah, I’m the police hacker.”
“You hack the police?”
“I think I hack for the police. I’m a good guy”
“P’s the drug chemist,” Michelle says.
“Sounds about right,” Vhodka replies.
“Mrs. Black, they’re ready for you on set now,” a PA says out of nowhere.
“Good seeing you two,” Vhodka says as she turns to leave.
“Yeah, break a leg,” I reply as she walks off, throwing up the deuce. “Wow, she’s really been hitting them squats.”
“I taught her a few thangs,” Michelle says with that sexy ass smirk on her face. I look over her shoulder and down at her ass.
“She’d be so lucky,” I say, grabbing a handful of that juicy booty.
“Mr. Montuori, you’re wanted in hair and makeup,” another PA says, appearing out of nowhere.
“Holy Houdini, where the fuck do you guys keep coming from?” I say, trying to catch my breath from being so startled..
👑 👑 👑 👑 👑 👑 👑
“Whoa whoa. What is that?” I ask.
“Mousse,” the stylist responds.
“Mousse? Made by who?”
“I don’t know,” the stylist says, looking over the bottle. “Garnier Fructis.”
“Garnier Fructis? Oh hell no!”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare touch my beautiful mane with that Dollar General bullshit. Do I look like the Comedian to you?”
“The who?”
“Doesn’t matter. Michelle can you believe this?!”
“I’m already on the phone with the head of the network.”
“Michelle, I can’t work under these conditions! I’m a fucking STAR! A fucking KING! A Wrestling GAWD! How do they expect me to give an Oscar worthy performance with Garnier Fructis in my hair! I can’t! I think I’m going to freak out and have a panic attack. This plus my big match at PWE. Fucking contendership for Excellence strap. I can’t Michelle, I can’t!”
“Alright, everyone get the fuck out!” Michelle says.
“We can’t just leave. We’re on a schedule, we have..”
“Get the fuck out now! Or I’m going to fuck you all up one by one!” One look at Michelle and they all bail out of the trailer. Fuck she’s so hot when she gets riled up and ready to snatch someone’s throat out. I stand up as she turns around to face me. I pull her in, tongue down her throat. Get the lotion ready nerds because you’re about to get a show!
“Hola?” I hear someone say.
“Aw fuck no!” I say as I turn to see a little old Spanish lady standing at the door of the trailer. She looks up at us confused. “Lady, can I have ten fucking minutes?! Maybe even 12?!”
“Oh no P,” Michelle says, pulling her shirt back down. What can I say? I like to grab titties. She walks over to the door. “Come in.”
“Who’s this?” I ask as Michelle helps the lady up the steps into the trailer.
“Well.. I have a surprise for you,” Michelle says as she gets that devilish smirk on her face. I look from her to the little old lady and back to Michelle. She nods. “This is your grandmother.”
“My grandmother? Bruh, she died when I was like 12. And that shit was an open casket so no way she came back from the dead like Joe’s parents.”
“No, your grandmother on your Mother’s side,” she replies. Wait what?
“Abuelita?”
“Oh, mijo,” she says as she crosses the trailer and hugs me tightly. I stand confused, shocked.. Angry that after all this time, after all these years, she now pops up? This entire time I thought I didn’t have any family, any real family left. After all these years of feeling so alone, here she is now?
“I’m sorry but,” I say as I pull away from her. She looks up at me, into my eyes. Without even saying anything she knows.
“I tried over the years to call you. To see you. I sent presents on tu cumpleano y Christmas. Pero tu Tio y Tia, they don’t want me to speak with you. They were preocupado.. Uhm.. Muy worried they’d find you.”
“Find me? Who’d find me?” I ask.
“Nada, es nothing. I say too much,” she says as she shakes her head.
“P,” Michelle says. I look over at her. She gives me that look, that Enjoy this moment, worry later look. Crazy how much we vibe..
“You look just like tu Papa,” she says as she reaches up and holds my face in her hands with tears in her eyes. “Pero your ojos..”
“I have my Mother’s eyes,” I say as she pulls me in for another hug. This time I reciprocate. Pulling her in, squeezing her hard. I want to ask her a million questions about my Father. About my Mother. If I had any other siblings. Any cousins. Grandfather? Aunts and Uncles. I want to ask her what she meant about my Aunt and Uncle keeping me from seeing her, wanting to keep me safe. Safe from who? I want to ask her if the stories about my Father were true. If he really was a dirt bag criminal. Did he really get my Mother killed? I have so many fucking questions swirling in my head. But at this moment, this moment right now, I rather enjoy it as long as I possibly can. Michelle’s right, they’ll be plenty of time to worry later..
👑 👑 👑 👑 👑 👑 👑
Let’s get down to business..
Can somebody please explain to me who the fuck this no name, no talent hack Jason Long is? And why the fuck is this bottom feeder pretender sticking his nose in your KING’s fucking business?!
My fucking business!
Which just so happened to be my first time shining in the spotlight in PWE! He came and ruined my chance, my opportunity to show the fucking world that Paul Montuori isn’t some washed up hack who’s best days were over. Ruined my chance to show the world that I was the same guy that wreaked havoc on the entire Fight roster.
This fucking guy, this fucking kid had the audacity to come out during my fucking match and distract me when I had that lame fuck Damien beat. I was mere seconds away from proving to the world what Vhodka said about that fuck during PWE’s first season. Prove that he was a fluke as Excellence Champion. Prove that he didn’t belong in the ring with a Wrestling GAWD like Paul Montuori. Prove to the world that I was far above, in a class of my own.
My coming out fucking party!
Ya’ll bitches were supposed to hear me fucking roar!
Nah..
Haters are always going to hate.
Am I right, Jay Long?
You stuck your nose in my fucking business because you’re a fucking hater?!
A real KING’s business!
Have you any clue the type of punishment that is dealt out when you don’t mind your own fucking business?! Especially when it ends up costing me a fucking match. Against a lame fuck like Damien?!
I’d rather lose to the Comedian!
And we all know he’s the greatest joke this business has ever seen.
But I think this goes well beyond hating. Goes beyond being upset that you look like an ogre fucked a hobbit while I’m the best looking specimen this business has ever seen.
Dare I say, this fucking plane.. This fucking galaxy has ever seen.
Don’t be upset with me, be mad at your ugly fucking Moms bruh..
See, I think it goes beyond being jealous of my awesome looks. Or my beautiful soon-to-be wife. Or my beautiful family. Goes beyond jealousy.
I see right through you kid.
See right through your pathetic attempt to come into PWE and try and make a name for yourself. Trying to pull the same bullshit the rest of these bottom of the barrel talent here in PWE tried to do.
A pathetic attempt to make a name for yourselves at the expense of a REAL fucking KING!
Hear that, boy?!
A REAL fucking KING!
Yeah, I heard about your silly fucking claims to being Wrestling's King.
Imposter!
Heretic!
A few years in this business and you have the audacity to proclaim yourself, dare I even say it.. King. Come on kid, you can’t be serious.
You’re not a King. You don’t even have the right to claim to be a Princess.
Even the Court fucking Jester!
A ‘90’s kid, a fucking baby still wet behind the ears has the audacity to proclaim themselves a King?
After what? 6 years in the business you think you have the right to proclaim yourself as such?
Nah kid!
You have no fucking right. Not while I still have a breath in me. Not while I’m still out here, being dope as fuck. Not while Paul Montuori still fucking exists!
I was battling big names in this business while you were still jerking off to Drake and Josh.
Fucking punk ass kid. You’ve had a cup of coffee in the business and somehow think you’re allowed to build up this pedestal to perch yourself on, looking down on everyone. Fuck have you done? Who have you beat?
And please spare me from running off at these so-called Accomplishments you’ve had in your short little career. In the AWF whatever lame promotion that is Hall of Fame? And you’ve only been in the business what? Five years and someone inducted you into their Hall of Fame?
Do you not see how fucking dumb and ridiculous that sounds?!
You wear these Awards and Accolades like a badge of honor. Like anyone really gives a fuck that you were the Dystopia Fight Club Tri-Wizard Wildcard Champion. The fuck does that even mean?
And who the fuck even cares?
Do you think anyone looks at that bogus list you tout and actually believes a word of it? Or
Anyone that can recite the little titles they’ve won in promotions no one’s ever heard of is full of shit. Desperate attempt to try and legitimize your career. Like the geek who dated the hot girl that went to another school. We all know the truth, see right through your fucking lies.
You’re a fake!
A fraud!
Another pretender in a long list of pretenders!
But have no fear for your KING is riled up and ready to get some revenge.
Hear that Jay?
I’m coming for you.
Coming to get my revenge on you for costing me a win against Damien. Coming to get my revenge for you ending the little winning streak I was on. For killing my fucking momentum.
For making me lose to Eyelash!
You’ve made this personal kid. Having a shot at being the #1 Contender for the Comedian’s title would’ve been enough incentive for me to show out. But throw in the disrespect you’ve shown Wrestling’s Only True KING and you’ve only added fuel to the fire Bay Bay! You’ve woken the asshole in me, the cut throat motherfucker who will be making an example out of you..
You think you’re coming in with all this hype, all this momentum. Laughable bruh. No one’s tuning in to see you kid. There’s only one KING the world wants to see.
And it sure ain’t some Irish prick like you.
Don’t you have a new King to bow down to anyway?
It’s not my fault your world is going to come crashing down. This entire persona you’ve built over the last couple of years, I’m ready to poke holes in it. Deflate that fucking ego of yours. Ego you have because some idiots gassed you up over your short ass career, making you think you’re something special. Let me break it to ya kid..
You ain’t..
Disney World may be the place where dreams come true, but won’t be at Rebirth.
Only one career’s going to experience a Rebirth..
Now I didn’t forget about the mustached pedo. How could I? The prick put his hands on the love of my life a few weeks back. Beating her in the ring..
Isaac Otto, you know I’m talking about you. You thought that win over Michelle wouldn’t come back to bite ya in the ass? Must not know who the fuck I am! Ain’t nobody more spiteful than me papito! I remember everything, I hold grudges longer than Jay’s career. And I always get my receipt. Always..
Especially when it comes down to another fucking pretender. Another silly fuck pretending to be greater than he is. Another fame whore, pretending to be someone he isn’t.
Isn’t that why you had to let everyone know you and that skank of yours bought a castle in Scotland? Trying to live the gimmick, right? Trying so hard to put on this façade for the world. Only someone rich would own a castle in Scotland. And you want the whole world to know you got money.
How the fuck do all these people I’ve never heard of have all this fucking money? A guy who’s lucky to be in the mid-card owns a fucking castle in Scotland? I had to fuck bitches on film to afford my sprawling estate in the Hills of Hollywood.
Think for one second anyone actually believes you made enough in this business to afford a castle? Another punk ass 20 something year old trying to put on this façade.
I’m tired of these punk ass kids who grew up faking their lives on social media all in a pathetic attempt to get likes. And followers. Pathetic attempt to get people to like them. This isn’t Instagram Otto. This isn’t Twatter. Your likes and followers don’t mean shit. Not when you’re in the ring with me kid. Square footage of your castle means dick to me. How tall your lame ass girlfriend is means dick to me. Your stupid fucking gimmicky mustache won’t save you kid. Not against a Wrestling GAWD!
Not when I’m pissed off and riled up and have something to prove.
Not when a shot at the Excellence Championship is on the line.
Not when I’ve gone my entire career not winning the big one in a promotion.
No way am I going to let a Swede and a some Irish prick outshine me.
Outhustle me.
Beat me.
Not when I have so much on the line.
And how fitting, our match taking place at Tomorrowland.
Tomorrow can be a wonderful age..
And oh how wonderful tomorrow is going to be in PWE.
Finally, PWE will have a Champion that matches the awesomeness of Vhodka Black.
Finally PWE will have a Champion they can be proud of.
A Champion that truly defines EXCELLENCE.
Make way for your future is bright!
Make way for Paul Montuori!
Your glorious KING will ensure tomorrow will be a wonderful age.
Absent of pretenders like Otto.
Absent of pretenders like Jay Long.
Absent of a cheap ass Champion like the Comedian..
As your KING I will continue my Crusade to rid this business of Swedes with horrible mustaches.
And Irish fucks who brag about paper championships from years ago.
And lame fucks who tell horrible jokes.
Watch as I rise from the ashes and spread my wings like the beautiful fucking Phoenix I am.
Watch as I soar high above you peasants and claim my rightful place atop PWE.
Mickey better have the champagne on ice because a celebration will be in order on October 6th.
October 6th come witness The Rebirth of PWE.
The Rebirth of your KING Paul Montuori!
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