Never Fuck With Frenchie

I wake up feeling cold. Really, really fucking cold. I’m more confused than anything else, but it’s not long until I’m fucking terrified. Where the fuck am I and how did I get here? Oh shit, my head hurts. What in the dogshit fuck is going on? I try to move but I can’t. Why the goddamn–oh shit, I’m tied down. Fuck, it’s bright! What the fuck is going on here?! I’m frantic by now–trying to break out of whatever is keeping my naked body tied, face-up on this table. It feels like a stainless-steel operating table or something–I don’t know. I’m just fucking cold and I have no idea where I am. I can’t hear anything but the flourescent buzz of the light right above my face. It smells sickeningly sterile in here. I don’t know what that means for me, but I do know that I didn’t know I was going to be here. I don’t want to be here. More than anything, I don’t want to be here. Oh God, am I going to die? Did I just get kidnapped?
“Haha, quit squirming. It’s not going to help you.”
My eyes are wide open now and I’m not moving a muscle. He’s right above me now, but the light is too bright for me to see him. His laughter just serves to terrify me further. I’ve been beaten, kidnapped, and tied down by a madman.
“You know, the fear you’re feeling right now–it’s funny to watch. You just can’t appreciate it because you’re the one tied down. If you could just see the look on your face. Haha, hold on. Let me get a camera. I’ll show you.”
He leaves for a moment and I am more desperate than ever to get up, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t break free. It’s not long until he’s back.
“I’m back! Did you miss me? Well, I suppose not. Haha, I’ll bet it’s just the opposite. Remember what I said about the look on your face and the fear and all that? I really want you to see your face. It’s the funniest goddamn thing I’ve seen in months. Haha, I have an idea!”
There’s a short pause, then “You better keep me laughing, because as soon as I lose interest, I’m going to cut a gash in your abdomen deep enough for you to smell your own shit.”
I make some distorted expression I’ve never made before and a flash of light blinds me for a couple seconds. When I can see again, there is a polaroid picture of my own terrified face right above me. I can’t see it very well because it’s in the way of the light above me and there is no light below me, but it gives me a second to see my murderer.
“You know, pissing yourself wasn’t very nice. It’s just more for me to clean up.” Then, he bursts out laughing. Hard. I’m the funniest thing Frenchie has ever seen.
In between bouts of giggling, “Matt, you knew this was going to happen someday. I mean, you can only push a person so far until they…well, kidnap and murder you! Haha!”
I know I’m fucked anyway, so I spit on his face. Frenchie doesn’t laugh.
I feel a pain I’m not used to. Something has gone through my hand, but I can’t even figure out how big it is. My reflexes force me to yelp and pull away, but pulling away only rips it through my hand.
Frenchie laughs his goddamn head off.
Bleeding and resigned to my fate, I finally open my mouth: ”Seth, I never meant–”
“SETH?! HAHA, It’s SETH now?! No, please. Call me Frenchie.”
“Seth, I–” Frenchie breaks my toe. I scream. “What the FUCK do you want from me, Frenchie?!”
“Haha, I want a title shot. I’ve only ever wanted a title shot. And I want it to be fair. I don’t want any goddamn guest referees. But most importantly, I want you to keep your fucking mouth shut before the match. No trash talking me and saying I get fucked my men or anything. If you say one goddamn thing, I will cut your slippery little tongue out. Hahaha!”
“Are you fucking serious!? You kidnapped me because you want a fucking title shot? You fucking piece of shit! Fine! You’ve got your shot. But on one condition.”
“Hahaha, who the fuck are you to be making conditions right now? But go ahead. I’m curious now. Be still, my fucking heart. Hahaha.”
“Fuck you. My condition is that, if I retain my title, you eat an entire ziplock bag full of my shit while I fuck your mom right in front of you.”
“Hahahaha, you know, I really didn’t think you’d pull out the ‘Frenchie’s mom’ thing in this position, but I’m proud of you. I was going to cut a hole in your throat and fuck it until I came into your lungs, but that little bit or courage went a long way. Hahaha, I’ll see you at summerslam!”
That’s the last thing I remember until I wake up in my bed. My hand is bandaged and I can feel a splint on my toe.
Before I get up to start training, I mutter to myself, “Frenchie is going to get the MATTer of Fact so hard, he’s going to sneeze testicles.”