I lost the fuckin' monkey.
"Fuck me like a pygmy at an orgy... " The people dressed too nice to be here are trying to talk to me. Personally, I wish they'd have told me they were coming so I could have messed the house up worse.
"Kentucky Tarzan, can we have a word with you?"
Can you help me find this fuckin' primate? No, don't say that. Be nice. Clear your throat, stand up straight, and kick the empty pizza boxes out of your way. Wait, that one wasn't empty. Oh well. "Yeah. What did I do this time? If I don't see a warrant in writing, I'm suplexing the guy with the stick into the fuckin' TV. I don't give two shits and a sausage biscuit."
"No, no, we're not here for that."
"Thank God. No suplex for you, young man!"
The dude holding the mic on the boom stick probably doesn't know what to think. They usually just pick these camera people up off the street. That's why it always goes black or cuts away to commercial right before something big happens. "CHIMPO! WE HAVE COMPANY! GET OUT HERE, I REALLY HOPE YOU DIDN'T CRAWL INTO THE FUCKIN' VENTS AGAIN!"
"Chimpo is here?"
"I hope so! What's this about?"
As I walk over to the kitchen, the camera follows. It stays back, of course. I appreciate the room to move around. All right, maybe there's some in the fridge...sad I gotta lure this god damn monkey out with booze.
"We wanted to talk about the return of WrestleUTA to the airwaves, and your part in that with that big four-corners match... "
Nope, we drank it all.
"God damn it...mother tits ass fuck."
"Is this a bad time?"
"Oh, no, not at all," I stood in front of the female reporter, and her male camera crew; cold air hitting my legs and cold linoleum pressing against my feet. "Well, if you don't ask me what you wanna know, how you ever gonna learn?"
"What are your thoughts on the buyout of FWF by the UTA brand? We know your father was very successful with them during their previous run... "
"I don't know about that, but I know my older sister got inducted into the UTA Hall Of Fame in 2015." There! I finally found a bottle of Calico Jack, there's enough left for this to work. "I'm sure that my family's reputation will not be a problem for me whatsoever. At all. Nope. None."
I don't think they believe me. That or my loincloth is starting to fall off. "Do you believe you will begin to improve your win-loss record?" I just poured some rum into a glass, trying my best to not let this bitch trigger me into a meltdown. I'm already one missing Chimpo in towards having a mental fuckin' kirkout.
"I think I will win when it counts. I do what I have to. Look. I duct-taped the dishwasher door back on when it broke off." Back to the fridge we go, where I find the perfect thing to mix with some rum.
"But in this match coming up, all of your opponents are well-known to have been in multiple stables with each other. Aren't you afraid of being outnumbered?"
"CHIMPO! You better come out, or I'm gonna drink this Ted Kennedy without you!"
"Yeah. A Ted Kennedy. It looks like murky water."
"What about them?"
"This match should be very important to you, Kentucky Tarzan." As she spoke, her voice began to sound like someone on Xanax trying to speak through a fan into a microphone that's right next to an elephant's asshole while he's taking a shit. It was all I could do to chug through the drink, shrugging to myself and hoping that the fucking monkey didn't try to go to McDonalds again. "If I may be honest with you, you need to win this match or your career in UTA will possibly be in trouble. And you've not only got to beat three other people in a four corners match, but your opponents may possibly all work together against you! How are you more concerned with a monkey than this match?"
I finished the drink, and with one hand on the dishwasher door handle I froze in time, preparing to deliver an epic pissed-off response with the intensity of that one tool sack in the Stadia commercials. FORGET THE THINGS YOU THOUGHT WERE THINGS. STAAAAAADIAAAAAAAAAAAA
"Because the monkey was a present from my fucking uncle, and this match is just another day at the office. I know what the fuck I'm up against. I don't care. Bobby Dean could gain another 200 pounds, Mikey Unlikely can go on 20 podcasts a day, Cancer Jiles could actually be relevant to modern professional wrestling...and they all could go on camera saying "you're damn right, we're just gonna all team up on him." I still wouldn't give two shits and a sausage biscuit. I'm going to show up and go fucking ham salad. Low carb, high protein, bringing the beef since Bobby's the pork. Yeah, I swing from trees like Brendan Frazer on DMT. Life is the jungle, and the vines are all the shit it tries to put in your way. I fought from the lowest point a human being could ever find themselves in, I turned myself into someone people actually think is a potential world class grappler at the age of 20. I ain't even barely got started in this business yet! So why the hell should I be scared of anyone or anything? It's gonna take all three of 'em holding hands and singing I'd Like To Buy The World A Toke in order to keep me down."
I flung the dishwasher door open, ready to throw the glass in there randomly. The rack I was going to put it on flew out, along with the other rack. The camera crew screamed and ran around my shitty trap apartment.
"Huh. There you are, Chimpo."
Chimpo jumped onto the island counter, screaming and throwing plates with day-old chicken nuggets and barbecue sauce at the camera crew. Somehow, the sauce splatter on the wall only increased the aesthetics.
"OH MY GOD!" The boom mic operater tripped, and fell over the reporter. Everyone was at the door, crumpled together because of course that bitch opens inwards. "FUCK THIS I'M OUT! I'M QUITTING THIS SHIT AND GOING BACK TO SELLING PACKS!" Reporter opens door, knocks cameraman into boom mic guy, everyone falls down, ha ha ha ha...oh shit, the monkey's pissing all over the countertop.
"Before y'all leave...tell them boys it's gonna be three on TWO. Thank y'all, have a good day."
They were all practically crawling out the door. The monkey literally pounced at it behind them, slamming straight into the closed door. I reached over, putting the racks back into the dishwasher.
"Listen, my dude...I really, really appreciate the backup there. For real."
I closed the door on the dishwasher.
It fell off.
"JESUS SHIT TITS"
- Kentucky Tarzan