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scene opens in a dimly lit room, the only source emanating from a thin strip of light seeping its way through a crack in the curtains drawn over the window. The camera pans down to reveal our vexed hero… “Vile” Vic Studd… sitting cross legged on the carpeted floor. He looks up and sighs heavily as his fingers subliminally trace drawings of penises and huge pairs of boobs against the grain of the carpet’s matting. Finally, Vic works up the courage to speak…

”Vile” Vic Studd: So… Hi. I’m Vic.

Vic waits for a response, his eyes darting back and forth across the room… only to be met with silence.

Studd: You’re supposed to say… nevermind. Look, this is kinda new for me. While I feel I’ve made tremendous strides in solo therapy sessions, I feel the need to get some shit off my chest in a sort of group environment. Not in the literal sense of course. I’m no Stephen Alexander, after all.

Vic cracks a wry smile expecting a laugh or a chuckle. Only to be met with silence yet again.

Studd: Right. Look, really what I need is to just bounce my admissions off of some neutral parties. Individuals that are pure of heart and untainted from any prior misconceptions they might have about my character. Human beings who can take a step back and really chart the progress I’ve been working so hard to facilitate in myself. So I guess I should start off by letting you all know a bit about myself, huh?

Vic readjusts himself on the carpeting and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He pulls one out and lights it up, taking one long drag before continuing.

Studd: Where to begin? Well… I like feet. Like… a lot. I hate potatoes. I once got loaded on painkillers and MDMA and assaulted a biker gang at a gay pride parade. I totally get why the ladies all love David Harvey, to the point that I may as well admit I’d probably fuck the guy under the right circumstances. If anyone disagrees with me I almost immediately begin calling them an Anti-Seimite and compare them to Hitler. I know next to nothing about the human reproductive system other than the fact that sticking your dick in between the strip of padding on a refrigerator door feels a lot better than it has any reason to. I enjoy the mystery of not knowing whether I was inside a woman or simply had got my cock stuck in one of her fat rolls…

Vic’s eyes start to water for a split second. But he wipes it away and takes another drag as he looks up into the heavens.

Studd: And I’ve done a lot of… bad things during my career renaissance. I threw an autistic Canadian with acute schizophrenia in front of a taxicab in order to take away the one thing he ever loved. Just because I felt like it. I blinded a soulless ginger kid with cleaning fluid that in turn ruined his career. Not that he had much of an upside anyway. I’ve driven over and/or through several co-workers in what was essentially a stolen van, stopping only to celebrate with chicken and waffles. I blackmailed a backstage official to get my way, only after I completely ruined his life by getting him addicted to various over the counter substances to the point where he not only lost his job for his ineptitude, but his wife and custody of his children as well. Let’s see… what else… oh yeah, I attempted to drown my former best friend after I caught him post-coital with my ex-wife. Failed. So I broke into her home a couple weeks later and sexually assaulted her to get said former best friend to agree to fight me at a later date. Then I pissed all over her couch.

Vic looks down at the carpeting almost pleased with his rap sheet of crimes committed over the past year or so. He takes another long drag of his cigarette before putting it out directly into the carpet.

Studd: And I was punished for all that. Got a road spike driven into my spinal column. A little harsh, but I’m not one to judge Allah’s adjudication. Praise be to him. I mean… it probably would’ve killed a lesser man… basically anyone else from my understanding. The fact that I’m still here is a fucking miracle on par with maintaining an erection while thinking about CJ’s sister. But you know what? I accepted my punishment. A near death injury for all the pain I’ve caused simply out of my spite for others. And in turn for that acceptance I was gifted… silence. I was forced to confront my sins within the solace of my own mind. And in doing so, a veil was lifted… I beheld the man behind the curtain. The machinations of society began to unravel at the seams. I was baptized anew into the glory of all things as I was swept up into the realization of the reason for being… LOVE.

Vic brings his left hand up to his heart as he takes a deep breath, picturing his beloved.

Studd: If only I had known sooner the booty… errr… bounty that waited behind the veil. My own Irish Fudge Truffle. For her... I would do ANYTHING for her. My beloved would no longer have to wait with the uncleaned masses of talentless jobbers plaguing this company, for I would carve through their filth leaving only a red carpet of blood behind me for her to glide upon like the Angel that she is. The officials would be forced to turn a blind eye to her offenses, or suffer having me take that eye from them. I would bequeath upon her a life of privilege where we dined nightly on steak and cuts of sashimi reserved only for royalty, served on the naked and glistening bodies of European fashion models. And as we beat guts in the pale moonlight of the Shangri-La I construct for her, I will cry to the heavens –WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!?

Vic stops abruptly and walks over to the window. He pulls open the curtains allowing sunlight to bathe the Montessori Classroom with its warmth. A dozen or so children shield their eyes as they all sit cross legged in a circle, leaving only a small gap where Vic was sitting.

Studd: Were you eating your fucking boogers?

Vic points at one particularly husky child with streams of snot free flowing from his nostrils. The child simply shrugs as he reaches right back up in his nostril and continues mining for crusty fool’s gold.

Studd: Damn it, kid! Do you have any idea how distracting it fucking is to see you mainlining boogers like a stoned pelican while I’m monologue-ing? Fuck. I was in a groove too.

A little girl dressed head to toe in pink raises her hand and immediately starts speaking.

Little Girl: I thought we were playing Duck, Duck, Goose.

Studd: Duck, duck… what? Is that anything like a “Screaming Seagull”? Because hell, I’ve done that before.

Little Girl: NO! Duck, Duck, Goose! You walk around in a circle touching all of us and you say...

Studd: WHOA! UH UH! NO WAY! No one is touching anyone here! Who taught you that shit?

Suddenly one of the closet doors begin to shake and rattle, jarring loose the ruler keeping the closet sealed shut. The doors swing open and out falls a man bound and gagged with duct tape. He hits the floor and all the children giggle and laugh at seeing him fall and struggle to remove the tape binding his wrists and covering his mouth.

Studd: You son of a bitch…

A look of abject fear forms in the spindly young man’s eyes as Vic marches across the classroom towards his target. The man just barely removes the tape before Vic reaches him.

Mr. Goodhead: No! Please! Get away from me! Run children! AHH!

The children continue to giggle as Vic pulls the poor man to his feet by the collar and slams him up against the closet doors.

Studd: You sick fuck. So that’s what a Montessori School is! Some kind of twisted European Sex Dungeon masquerading as a school to prey on the innocence of children?

Mr. Goodhead: You don’t understand-

Studd: Oh I understand perfectly well. Hey kids? Who wants to see me staple this punk’s butthole shut?

All the Children: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!

A fresh stain of urine forms on the man’s khakis as Vic reaches for a stapler.

Mr. Goodhead: PLEASE! Please… (starts sobbing uncontrollably) I’m a pacifist, man!

Studd: Like what baby’s suck on!?! YOU FUCKING PERVERT!

Vic starts dragging Mr. Goodhead across the classroom towards the window.

Studd: Hey kids! How about we solve a little physics problem, hmm? How long does it take a pedophile to reach the ground after getting tossed out a second story window?

The children all start shouting over one another with their answers… “4 seconds!” “1 Minute!” “10 seconds!” “2 seconds!”. Vic cups his hand to his ear pretending to listen as he stares into Mr. Goodhead’s eyes.

Studd: Well… looks like we’ll only know one way for sure.

Vic hurls Mr. Goodhead through the window, the glass shattering outward as he falls down to the sidewalk below with a splat. The children all rush to the window, eager to count as Vic pretends to wipe off his hands.

Studd: Problem solved.

All the Children: YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!

Studd: So, what’s next on the agenda? Nap time?

All the Children: STORYTIME! STORY! STORY! STORY!

Studd: All right, all right. Gather round children as I tell you the tale of… ”Stephen Romero: An Apology from Planned Parenthood“

The children all form a circle on the carpet in eager anticipation of storytime with Vic Studd. Scene fades to black.

Submitted October 31, 2015 at 10:47PM by neutronknows http://ift.tt/1GEnyTV wrestlingisreddit