The Famous expression “Everyone Has A Plan Until They Get Punched In The Mouth.” Is practically spewed in some form or fashion on nearly every weekly professional wrestling show that there is. But honestly is there really any sort of truth to this? I mean I’ve wrestled and fought  all over  this damn cesspool of a world, and have been hit, kicked and punched in the mouth a multitude of different times. My focus never shifted, and my plan never wavered.  It was always a simple one to obliterate my opponent no matter who it was, and regardless of whether or not my reasoning was personal or strictly professional. However, being kneed-kicked in the head is an entirely different story. Kicking someone in the head jumbles their thoughts and throws them out of whack, it fills them with fear and paranoia about suffering permanent and serious brain injuries, perhaps theoretically dying and being forced to live a lesser, below standard quality of life with the person they once were no longer being even so much as a faded memory. I much rather prefer hitting someone in the head than merely punching them in the mouth.

Bruiser Brophy for reasons known only to him is riding a bus full of  eclectic characters. People who are young, old, black, white, Asian, Spanish and so on.  Basically people from a variety of backgrounds and walks of life. Brophy blends in as he looks and is dressed like everyone else aside from his massive frame which is concealed by the fact he’s sitting down. It’s quite obvious that people either don’t recognize Brophy or simply don’t follow Rampage Wrestling as no one approaches him, which could also be the result of fear. Brophy to screw with people then begins talking trash to people telepathically. There is this large Samoan guy sitting in front of him, guy looks like Samoa Joe in a lot of ways, could even be a twin or blood relative. Brophy decides to have a little fun with him.

Brophy (Speaking telepathically): Hey, Hey, Samoan Boy, want me to kick your fat ass?… Yeah, I’ll kick that ass all the way back to Samoa… you fat fucking piece of shit.

“Ex Con” Louis James: Somebody, say something to me?

James look around and people look at him like he’s crazy, no one else has heard a thing. One older gentlemen speaks.

Older Gentleman: No, son, nobody said nothing to you. You must be hearing things.

“Ex Con” Louis James: Must just be a long day then sorry.

James sits back down and shakes his head.

Brophy (Again speaking telepathically): Yeah, you better sit your fat ass down… or I’ll put my boot in it. You ugly fucker.

This time James ignores it thinking that it’s again a product of his imagination. He then puts on a pair of headphones and drifts off to sleep.

Brophy (Telepathically again): You’re one fat, ugly, disgusting mother fucker. You ought to be ashamed of yourself even coming out onto the street and forcing people to have to look at you… you have a brass set of balls not being a shut in or recluse who never comes out in public.

James flies into a rage at this point

Louis James: ALIGHT. I know someone’s back here talking shit and I want to know who it is… I’ll beat the piss out of each and every one of you until I get to the bottom of this.  One by one… I don’t care. FUCK!!!

More people think James is nuts at this point and become frightened. Brophy just taunts him with child like taunts that only James can hear in his head.

James proceeds to pull out a gun, he shoots an old man in the shoulder and nearly shoots a young girl in the head recklessly firing before Brophy drops him. Brophy is hailed a “hero” even though he played a part in instigating the thing. Finally recognized a reporter tries to interview Brophy before being told he’s a mute.

Fade out

Hours pass and we now find ourselves in the mist of an old black and white, NWO style promo featuring Tony Carter and Brophy. We know Carter is wearing a suit though can’t really tell which color. And Brophy is wearing tattered assumedly black  t-shirt with jean shorts.  Carter begins speaking and like always does the bulk of the talking.

Tony C:  People are betting against this man because he’s facing some mysterious masked freak. They automatically assume that the masked freak is going to win. If you want to piss your money away go head and  bet on the masked freak.. the coward who hides behind the mask of shame like so many members of gutless terrorist organizations that are frightened to reveal their true identities over what it might do to their families and friends. I don’t know why you wear a mask Xavier, and I honestly couldn’t care less… my client doesn’t wear a mask and he doesn’t need one. His hideous face is more than enough to inflict his opponents with fear and dread.  Even if they didn’t have that healthy and rational fear of this man based on his reputation and what he’s capable of, he’s also brutal, ruthless and dangerous he  lacks mercy and compassion. He doesn’t care about nor love anyone and he’s here to simply maim and destroy. Even if you aren’t wearing the mask because of disfigurement now you very well could be after Brophy gets done beating on you.

Tony C: Even if your parlor tricks frighten the dim witted they have no effect on myself and they certainly don’t have any effect on Brophy. We aren’t afraid of you, but you sure as shit should be afraid of us if you’ve got the least bit of sense which is doubtful as you signed on to face this all too dangerous man. You may have this plan of RW wide domination but as a very wise man once told me… everyone has a plan until they get kicked in the skull… and your skull will be kicked in like a rubber made can come Sunday.

Carter laughs evilly as the scene fades out with The Anarchy Logo flashing.

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