Post by ]v[etaphoid Inc.Post by Chad G. PeteyPost by ]v[etaphoid Inc.Post by Chad G. PeteyIn the realm where titans clash and dreams take flight,
And wrestlers weave tales in the dark of night,
A gallery of characters, each with their tale,
In wrestling's domain, where heroes prevail.
Emmett, soaring like a masked marvel in the ring,
From the age of seven, wrestling's siren did sing,
Barred from chat rooms, his passion turned to fire,
In the heart of the squared circle, he found his desire.
John, a serpent-tongued trickster, with schemes untold,
Once a voice, now his lies unfold,
In wrestling's theater, he spins his deceit,
Amidst the smoke and mirrors, his treachery meets.
Dink, a background player with dreams aglow,
In wrestling's drama, his story does grow,
Short in stature, but with dreams so vast,
In the ring's tapestry, he finds his steadfast cast.
Chad, a jack of all trades with a dubious charm,
In wrestling's world, he wields his harmful arm,
Once brothers with John, now their bond is rusted,
In the chaos of kayfabe, their friendship's busted.
Freezer, with ideologies sharp as a steel chair's sting,
In wrestling's discourse, he takes his swing,
Liberal ideals like a high-flying dive,
In the political ring, he strives to survive.
Jason Todd, with fervent passion like a wildfire's blaze,
In wrestling's realm, he aims to amaze,
Despising opponents like a heel's scorn,
In the battleground of politics, his banner's worn.
Janithor, the janitor with views steadfast and true,
In wrestling's world, his interest askew,
In the mop and bucket, his solace is found,
In wrestling's chaos, his stance is sound.
Percent, a figure enigmatic from the land up north,
In wrestling's tale, his presence comes forth,
With quips and whispers, he leaves his mark,
In the symphony of kayfabe, he's a subtle spark.
Metaphoid, from down under's grip,
In wrestling's tale, he takes his trip,
Disdain for some, yet his presence bold,
In wrestling's lore, his stories told.
Skeeter, with rebel flag held high,
In wrestling's world, his voice a cry,
Hating wrestling fans, with venom's sting,
In life's ring, he finds his swing.
In wrestling's tapestry, their stories intertwine,
Each character unique, in the grand design,
From grifters to dreamers, in the ring's embrace,
They carve their legacy, in wrestling's space.
Are you related to the Chad who served in an armed campaign?
https://groups.google.com/g/alt.flame.rspw/c/nYtUHLNwtGA
In the heart of a storm, in Katrina's fierce wrath,
Chad stood tall, walked the path.
Not with guns or grenades, but with courage and might,
He lent a hand in the darkest of night.
(Chorus)
Oh, Chad Bryant, a hero's name,
In the National Guard, he earned his fame.
Not in battles of steel, but in battles of heart,
He played his part, he played his part.
Now, tales may fly, like leaves in the wind,
But truth stands strong, it doesn't bend.
Though skeptics may scoff, and doubters may jeer,
Chad's deeds speak loud, crystal clear.
(Chorus)
Oh, Chad Bryant, a hero's name,
In the National Guard, he earned his fame.
Not in battles of steel, but in battles of heart,
He played his part, he played his part.
And in that bathroom, a moment of strife,
Chad's swift kick saved a woman's life.
Though some may doubt, the truth remains true,
Chad's valor shines through and through.
(Chorus)
Oh, Chad Bryant, a hero's name,
In the National Guard, he earned his fame.
Not in battles of steel, but in battles of heart,
He played his part, he played his part.
So let the whispers fade, let the rumors die,
For Chad Bryant, we raise our cry.
A man of honor, a friend so true,
This song's for him, and for Chad Bryant too.
How pitifully appropriate for a stolen Valor coward who still claims to
have served in armed conflictâŠ
Armed with a ladle and oversized bowl of gruel! ROFL!
In the realm where shadows dwell,
Two names in a saga tell.
Vetaphoid, known as Veta's guise,
A wanderer with drunken eyes.
He boasts of Aussie roots so grand,
A traveler across the land.
Yet harbors hate for one named Chad,
Accusing him with words so bad.
Chad's feats in football and the ring,
Veta deems as false, a mocking sting.
His IT career, Veta derides,
A bar owner's claim, he cast aside.
Chad's Vermont tale, Veta defies,
Says he's a coward who runs and hides.
Psychiatric tests, a blow to Chad's pride,
In this battle of words, truths are denied.
Veta claims a role in sports so high,
A lofty position in Australia's sky.
But amidst the boasts and accusations wild,
The truth remains obscured, like a shrouded child.
In this tale of bitterness and spite,
Two souls entwined in a relentless fight.
But beyond the claims and the drunken cries,
Lies a deeper truth, hidden in their eyes.
Across the globe, Veta claims to roam,
To Antigua, St Maarten, and Aruba's home.
But back in the feud with Chad, so bitter,
Veta's words cut deep, each one a slitter.
He labels Chad a bitter pauper, low,
With venomous words, a relentless blow.
And as he boasts of wealth, so high and grand,
He lords it over Chad, in a relentless stand.
Accusing him of laziness, with no relent,
Chad's unemployment, a constant lament.
And as he mocks Chad's feline friends,
Veta's insults know no ends.
Fibreboard furniture, a mark of shame,
In Veta's eyes, Chad's life's to blame.
But amidst the feud, the accusations fly,
Truth and lies, entwined, in the sky.
Veta's mockery knows no bounds,
As insults fly, with relentless sounds.
Chad's Nissan Versa, a subject of jest,
In Veta's eyes, it's not the best.
He claims Chad's brush with the law,
For shoplifting shampoo, a tragic flaw.
Contempt of court, another stain,
In Veta's tirade, there's no refrain.
Chad's job hopping, a sign of weakness,
In Veta's eyes, it's pure bleakness.
Ostracized from kin, a lonely plight,
Chad's isolation, in Veta's sight.
He claims Chad's weight, over 300 pounds,
In mockery, his words resound.
His furniture, old and inherited,
In Veta's eyes, it's something to be derided.
Funko Pops, a childish vice,
In Veta's scorn, there's no compromise.
Chad's size, his glasses, his PC so cheap,
In Veta's insults, there's no relief.
No Benz, no Subaru to own,
In Veta's world, Chad's left alone.
He claims Chad weighs more than a car,
In Veta's world, it's gone too far.
Coke bottle glasses, a mark of shame,
In Veta's eyes, Chad's to blame.
Sight-impaired keyboard, a sign of weakness,
In Veta's world, there's only bleakness.
But amidst the storm of accusations flung,
Chad's own tales are reckoned and sung.
He claims a heroic act in a workplace scene,
Saving a woman with a spinkick so keen.
Suspected by many of puppetry's art,
Chad's online presence, a murky part.
He brands Veta an incel, so low,
In Chad's eyes, it's a crushing blow.
He refutes Veta's portrait, painted in scorn,
Claiming his true self is far from forlorn.
In Chad's world, he's the better man,
Mr. Mossberg waiting to shorten Veta's lifespan.
He calls Veta pitiful, a sad sight,
In Chad's eyes, he's the beacon of light.
Thousands spent on PC gear,
All a part of Chad's good cheer.
Accusations fly as Chad strikes back,
"Veta abuses sheep," his attack.
He asserts ownership over Veta's domain,
In Chad's world, it's a power game.
Acronyms fly in Chad's sarcastic spree,
DPD, his words set free.
Military fitness, service claimed,
In Chad's world, his honor's flame.
In the realm where grudges fester deep,
Two figures clash, their secrets to keep.
Vetaphoid, known as Veta, drunk and bold,
And Chad, his adversary, tales untold.
Veta's venomous tongue knows no restraint,
Accusations hurled, each one a taint.
Chad, in turn, defends his name,
With tales of valor, in the game.
But amidst the storm of words and hate,
Truth and lies, entwined, dictate.
Each man claims superiority,
In a battle fueled by animosity.
Veta mocks Chad's car, his weight, his gear,
While Chad retaliates, his rebuttals clear.
Accusations of shoplifting met by excuse,
Each claim a dagger, in the verbal ruse.
Chad's heroic acts, his online presence,
Suspicions linger, a dark essence.
But in his eyes, he's the rightful heir,
To furniture tarnished, beyond repair.
As acronyms fly and insults soar,
Each man claims victory, and nothing more.
But beneath the surface, in the fray,
Lies the truth, obscured, in the light of day.