Post by Easton Alexander on Feb 27, 2024 23:05:07 GMT -5
The quiet tick and tock from the classroom clock echoes through the larger than average lecture hall. All students looked towards the front of the class at attention. The door handle clicks and swings open, in walk Professor Easton Alexander the Third ESQ. lead Professor of ASS Kickology at YorkU. He walks with air of respect and command as he sweeps a piece of chalk in his fingers. With a hard and heavy press and drag he writes “How to Kick Ass 305” into the green chalkboard.
“Alright class. My name… is…”
The scrawls his name into the board with.
“You have taken this class because you wish to be one thing and one thing only.”
Silence in anticipation falls across the hall.
“... Asskickers.”
The room gasps almost as if everybody in this room has not signed up for this class. A scruffy haired student in the back raises his hand and speaks.
“Sir… With all due respect, I don't know if this is an adequate subject."
Easton turns the opposite direction, not paying attention whatsoever. Writing “My credentials.”
“Now I know some people will want to know why i'm qualified to teach such a course, well… I’ve been in the ass kicking industry for over 10 years and been a professionally contacted kicker of ass for close to 4. I'm trained in all forms of ass kicking… Which are what class can somebody tell me?”
Easton gestures towards a student with short hair and glasses.
"Is this even a real class?”
“Excellent… That’s right, I'm very good at kicking Donnie Harris’s ass.”
Easton scrawls into the board “Donnie Harris Ass”. He paces for a moment, like a professor would before saying something profound.
“I have mastered the art of beating the ass of Donnie Harris. The shape of his ass is perfectly kicking shape, it's quite frankly generational, he's a generational getting his ass kicked… person. I know Donnie is one hell of an athlete but i mean look at me i'm a freak, an ass kicking cyborg, and Donnie like i said one hell of a guy i mean he beat Braddick or whatever the fuck his name was but even i could have beat that guy. I mean hes just a mountain of muscle like how that guy passed the steroid test he looked like juiced up for breakfast lunch and dinner… He also beat Alexandra Callaway who i also could have beat because… well because I have.”
Easton Swipes off a metre stick (Or a 3.28084 Foot stick for my American homies) from the table. And smacks the chalkboard where a really low quality picture of Donnie Harris now hangs.
“Now… i'm not saying Donnie is a less handsome… less talented version of myself… thats why im gonna have one do you say it for me. Go on, any of you will do.”
The silence in the classroom is loud, a cough could piece an eardrum. No student understands whats happening despite everybody knowing exactly what they have signed up for.
“Who are you?”
“Better than Donnie Harris that I know for certain. I’ll give you all a breakdown of today’s homework assignment. February 29th OCW holds Ashes to Ashes which will unfortunately… probably… be their last show. And i get the honour of taking down Donnie Harris and putting my name is the History books as the Anarchy Champion… Potentially the last ever, Donnie is so attached to OCW its cute, using the hatred and anger he feels because of the closure to fuel his fire, but its not going to make a difference. So for your homework I want you to be witness to the biggest and most important ass kicking in Outcast history. The world titles on the line yeah yeah but as far as i'm concerned this is the main event, a real champion defending his championship against a real challenger.”
Easton leans against the classroom table.
“Donnie will get my months worth of training, the hardships and the every failure I've gone through to even get a shred of my former self back. I'm going to push myself half to death trying to take that goddamned belt. The amount of work I put in these last couple years to become the best damn professional wrestler on the planet I'm willing to throw it all away if it means taking food off Donnie’s table ill do it, if it means putting him in a hospital ill do it, if it eans sacrificing the rest of my career to capture lightning in a bottle and beat him… I’LL FUCKING DO IT DONNIE.”
Easton slams a fist on the desk making the students jump.
“We are some of the select and lucky fuckin’ few who do this for a living and I took it for granted, not anymore… Im not guaranteed anything, i lose on the 29th im just like every other asshole who got a perfect shot and fucked it up. I have no way to gauge how much rust i have but Donnie you best knock me off before I knock IT off because underneath this rust covered exterior is a goddamn hot rod ready to rip. You will not be standing in the ring with the “Canadian Dragon.” Who failed and failed and failed. You will not face the “KIng of the North.” Who sat on a throne of lies and who thought that he was better than he was. Your going to get Easton Alexander, the spark… The most dangerous professional wrestler on planet earth, the neck breaker, the name taker. I would advise not stepping into the ring in San Fran lest you lose everything you've ever worked for… But I know enough about you Donnie, I know you're a tough sort. So I'll see you on Thursday. The Anarchy title awaits its true owner. We get the honour of putting on a real wrestling match of a card full of extra extra bullshit, and I couldn't be more fired up about it. We get to show what real wrestling looks like. I hope you're ready Donnie because I'm prepared to give everything, and if you aren't then dont bother coming.”
The door handle clicks as an elderly gentleman steps in. he stops, staring at Easton… then at the class.
“Who are you.”
“leaving. EMIKO LET'S SKEDADDLE.”
A smaller female student stands up at the back of the class. Holding a handheld camera.
“YUP.”
Fade to black.
“Alright class. My name… is…”
The scrawls his name into the board with.
“You have taken this class because you wish to be one thing and one thing only.”
Silence in anticipation falls across the hall.
“... Asskickers.”
The room gasps almost as if everybody in this room has not signed up for this class. A scruffy haired student in the back raises his hand and speaks.
“Sir… With all due respect, I don't know if this is an adequate subject."
Easton turns the opposite direction, not paying attention whatsoever. Writing “My credentials.”
“Now I know some people will want to know why i'm qualified to teach such a course, well… I’ve been in the ass kicking industry for over 10 years and been a professionally contacted kicker of ass for close to 4. I'm trained in all forms of ass kicking… Which are what class can somebody tell me?”
Easton gestures towards a student with short hair and glasses.
"Is this even a real class?”
“Excellent… That’s right, I'm very good at kicking Donnie Harris’s ass.”
Easton scrawls into the board “Donnie Harris Ass”. He paces for a moment, like a professor would before saying something profound.
“I have mastered the art of beating the ass of Donnie Harris. The shape of his ass is perfectly kicking shape, it's quite frankly generational, he's a generational getting his ass kicked… person. I know Donnie is one hell of an athlete but i mean look at me i'm a freak, an ass kicking cyborg, and Donnie like i said one hell of a guy i mean he beat Braddick or whatever the fuck his name was but even i could have beat that guy. I mean hes just a mountain of muscle like how that guy passed the steroid test he looked like juiced up for breakfast lunch and dinner… He also beat Alexandra Callaway who i also could have beat because… well because I have.”
Easton Swipes off a metre stick (Or a 3.28084 Foot stick for my American homies) from the table. And smacks the chalkboard where a really low quality picture of Donnie Harris now hangs.
“Now… i'm not saying Donnie is a less handsome… less talented version of myself… thats why im gonna have one do you say it for me. Go on, any of you will do.”
The silence in the classroom is loud, a cough could piece an eardrum. No student understands whats happening despite everybody knowing exactly what they have signed up for.
“Who are you?”
“Better than Donnie Harris that I know for certain. I’ll give you all a breakdown of today’s homework assignment. February 29th OCW holds Ashes to Ashes which will unfortunately… probably… be their last show. And i get the honour of taking down Donnie Harris and putting my name is the History books as the Anarchy Champion… Potentially the last ever, Donnie is so attached to OCW its cute, using the hatred and anger he feels because of the closure to fuel his fire, but its not going to make a difference. So for your homework I want you to be witness to the biggest and most important ass kicking in Outcast history. The world titles on the line yeah yeah but as far as i'm concerned this is the main event, a real champion defending his championship against a real challenger.”
Easton leans against the classroom table.
“Donnie will get my months worth of training, the hardships and the every failure I've gone through to even get a shred of my former self back. I'm going to push myself half to death trying to take that goddamned belt. The amount of work I put in these last couple years to become the best damn professional wrestler on the planet I'm willing to throw it all away if it means taking food off Donnie’s table ill do it, if it means putting him in a hospital ill do it, if it eans sacrificing the rest of my career to capture lightning in a bottle and beat him… I’LL FUCKING DO IT DONNIE.”
Easton slams a fist on the desk making the students jump.
“We are some of the select and lucky fuckin’ few who do this for a living and I took it for granted, not anymore… Im not guaranteed anything, i lose on the 29th im just like every other asshole who got a perfect shot and fucked it up. I have no way to gauge how much rust i have but Donnie you best knock me off before I knock IT off because underneath this rust covered exterior is a goddamn hot rod ready to rip. You will not be standing in the ring with the “Canadian Dragon.” Who failed and failed and failed. You will not face the “KIng of the North.” Who sat on a throne of lies and who thought that he was better than he was. Your going to get Easton Alexander, the spark… The most dangerous professional wrestler on planet earth, the neck breaker, the name taker. I would advise not stepping into the ring in San Fran lest you lose everything you've ever worked for… But I know enough about you Donnie, I know you're a tough sort. So I'll see you on Thursday. The Anarchy title awaits its true owner. We get the honour of putting on a real wrestling match of a card full of extra extra bullshit, and I couldn't be more fired up about it. We get to show what real wrestling looks like. I hope you're ready Donnie because I'm prepared to give everything, and if you aren't then dont bother coming.”
The door handle clicks as an elderly gentleman steps in. he stops, staring at Easton… then at the class.
“Who are you.”
“leaving. EMIKO LET'S SKEDADDLE.”
A smaller female student stands up at the back of the class. Holding a handheld camera.
“YUP.”
Fade to black.