Accusations, Threats, and Other Naughty Words

Pressure Point 68
July 21, 2003
Starring: Daniel Phillips & Sharc
Writers: John Leary & Mike Renner

Backstage, Sharc was walking down a hallway, a maze of sorts to him. He was looking for a certain place to be, and desperately wanted to get there. The reaction of the crowd was mixed to non-existent. They didn't know what the hell was going on with the hardcore wrestler. Leaving a match was something Sharc never did.

Sharc came to an intersection. And then looked to his left. He found the door he was looking for. Usually he would just burst in, but, he was feeling different, so he did the nice thing.

*BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG* Well, it was rather rude and had a few fans chuckling, especially when the door opened and they saw Daniel Phillips' face. The man Sharc would be fighting not too much later in the night. The same man who had ripped Sharc in a column.

Daniel smirked at Sharc, still showing his usual overconfidence despite the losing streak he's been going through, "Hah. Sorry, come back later, I used up all of my bricks when I was busy stoning some Michigan fuck who came by earlier."

Sharc put his hand against the door, making sure Phillips wouldn't be able to close it. At least not yet.

"That's sweet, Danny. But I didn't come here to get stoned by you or stoned with you. And by the way, someone really should call the cops and let them know about all the drugs you do back here. Everyone can tell when you go out to the ring that you're high. They're just too nice to say anything."

Sharc appeared ready to continue, but Phillips had his own rebuttal for Sharc.

"Very funny. Really, I'm laughing on the inside, Dick. Say, while you're telling the police about that, why don't I tell them about your child pornography that you have stuffed in YOUR locker room? Sometimes I wonder if you dress as a priest and do the funky chicken before you get down and dirty with some choir boy." Daniel said, somewhat angry with the barging in and the false claims from Sharc, "Oh, and honestly? The next time you want to come in here and start babbling about a non-existent drug habit, you might want to just sit back in your own fucking locker room, fondle yourself with the letters 'P', 'I', and 'W', and leave me the fuck alone."

"That's fine, Danny. Listen, I wasn't expecting anything other than a 'fuck you' from you, so topple me over with surprise. I just wanted to give you a little present. Since you're such a fucking hardcore guy..." Sharc dropped a brick down at Daniel Phillips' boots. Apparently that was the source of the loud banging on Phillips' door. "Let's see if your mouth and ego match up to what you got out there. Let's have us a real wrestling match. Because by god, wrestling is the center of the fucking universe. Come teach me a wrestling lesson. Lord knows I could use it. Then you can come back here and lick Zimmerman's ass and pray he'll ask your pathetic ass to get into that fucking useless stable. Pussy. PIW is coming back. And you're looking at the leader. And tonight, Phillips Is Worried. And you better fucking be."

Sharc let go of the door. He didn't appear a bit scared of retaliation. If Phillips wanted the brick, he'd have to bend down. If he wanted to charge at Sharc, he was obviously willing to fight anywhere outside of a ring. So there was just the emotionless stare of Sharc.

"Whatever."

Sharc turned his back on his soon-to-be opponent, disappointed, possibly disgusted at his comeback, and walked back the way he had come. Phillips looked down at the brick Sharc had left on the floor and then kicked it away.

NEXT CHAPTER: Sharc vs. Daniel Phillips >>