100% American Patriot
Acclaimed Independent Journalist
My fellow Americans,
My name is David Davidson and I am a critically acclaimed American journalist. I write to you today to share a life changing moment in my life.
From top to bottom, I must say that this show, put together by wrestling company PRIME, has got to be the pinnacle of all professional sports. What an amazing show. Even for the capitalist ticket price, I have to say that for two nights I was granted some of the most entertaining spectacles of my life.
I write to you today because I want to give an overview of some of the most important aspects of this show, and how it was, in two words, life changing.
I think it’s most important to start at the single-most important moment of the night, if not, my life.
Ivan Stanislav vs. Brandon Youngblood
I understand that there are dirt sheets and “eyewitness” accounts of this historic meeting between two pillars of PRIME, but I want to make sure you all know that my take is the truth. Believe me.
Because I was there.
How raucous the crowd was for Ivan Stanislav! It brought tears to my eyes. I never thought I would hear so many Americans singing along with the Soviet National Anthem, but there I was, singing with them. Perhaps most shocking at that moment? I don’t believe many of the Americans in attendance knew Russian, but moved with such emotion, they seemed to miraculously understand the language.
It was thrilling.
To say that Stanislav appeared poised would be a gross understatement. As we all know, in the spirit of his steadfast belief of collectivization, togetherness, and helpfulness, Praporshchik Stanislav prefers to share his matches not just with all of us, but also with his closest and dearest friend, Alexei Ruslan.
In the past, Stanislav has been criticized for this conduct, which I personally feel is appalling. Unfortunately, the minority of western viewers who do not like Stanislav try to use Ruslan’s presence as an excuse to justify Ivan’s great victories. As if Ruslan’s standing, clapping, and saluting could influence a match!
Yet Stanislav chose to fight Youngblood on his own level. One on one. Depriving his dearest friend of the view, and yet doing it in such a way to make sure no one could refute the fact that, should he win, he was the measuring stick to which all others would be measured.
Unlike the cool, calm, and collected Stanislav, Universal Champion Brandon Youngblood appeared to have been pushed out from the backstage area. With palpable fear in his eyes, “The Diamond” appeared ready to crack before the bell even rang.
Youngblood, blubbering and sobbing, approached the cage and flatly refused to enter the structure.
Once again, Praporshchik Stanislav gave the fans exactly what they wanted.
What transpired was the type of a beating we all hope for. You know what I mean. We all imagine if we can get our hands around the lowest of the low and beat them to within an inch of their lives? That’s what Stanislav did for us.
For all of us.
Youngblood did try to mount some offense, but PRIME isn’t the place to attempt slap fights, and Mr. Youngblood learned that all too well. After positively brutalizing Youngblood outside (he was bleeding so much, he splashed all of his cowardly blood ONTO an otherwise unmarked Stanislav), Ivan grabbed the champion by his cue-ball head and took the fight into the ring. Where it should have started.
You should have heard Youngblood scream.
“Please, Praporshchik Stanislav, no more! Please, let the beatings stop!”
And at another time.
“I cried all the water out of my body today! If you keep giving me the beatings that I know I deserve, I am going to urinate through my white singlet and it will turn yellow like the streak on my back!!!”
But Youngblood’s flapping gums weren’t going to get him out of this pickle. No sir! Stanislav easily absorbed whatever kind of “offense” Youngblood would throw at him, and that, my friends, is when the truly desperate elements of Chicago came into play.
It was shocking. Bald men wearing official “Brandon Youngblood Universal Champion Loser” Halloween masks stormed the cage from the outside, and with bolt cutters and other nefarious implements, they started to cut into the expertly and impregnable Russian-made cage. That is truly the only reason why the next thing, the unthinkable, happened.
Brandon Youngblood did everything to flee the cage, to include literally trying to dive through the ropes, and through the cage itself, to get away from Ivan Stanislav. And this, dear readers, is when I knew the measure of the man that was Ivan Stanislav.
Despite it all. Despite the hurtful words flung his way by Youngblood. Despite the ducking and dodging. Despite all the pain and animosity, Stanislav knew that if Youngblood dove through the cage, Youngblood could very well die.
And so, Praporshchik Stanislav stood in his way. He allowed Youngblood to hit his body, and in order to protect him, Stanislav threw himself backwards through the ring ropes and through the cage. In doing so, he saved Brandon Youngblood.
I can only imagine he did it, not just because of his enormous heart, but because of all the children in attendance. We don’t ever want them to see something truly pathetic, like a grown man trying to fling himself through a cage to stop a beating he so very much deserves.
My dear readers, I have to tell you how difficult it is to write this with tears streaming out of my eyeballs.
The coward, Youngblood, still tried to flee. He ran up the entry ramp so quickly there were flames left behind, but oh, The Russian Bear was quicker. He grabbed the villain and dragged him, kicking and screaming, back into the ring, where he gave the fans everything they wanted.
Absolute unmitigated destruction.
I was told that Brandon Youngblood squealed so loudly, it made all the dogs in a three mile radius howl, because his screaming hit registers that only their sensitive ears could hear. I have to say, I always suspected that Brandon Youngblood was part dog.
Youngblood got on his knees and begged fervently. He clutched his hands together and prayed and begged, and pleaded.
“Please Praporshchik Stanislav, I can’t take much more. Please! Have mercy!”
And as he clenched his hands together, he broke his own shoulder! But no mercy was to be given. Stanislav showed the self proclaimed “Suplex Daddy” what a real suplex was via The Red Scare, multiple times. It wasn’t until bleeding-heart Timo Bolamba begged Stanislav to just end the match, that Ivan finally relented.
The fans were becoming unglued. They wanted more. They wanted blood. Yet Ivan knew when the bloodletting needed to stop, and he pinned Youngblood in the middle of the ring, to the happiness of all.
Once more the fans cheered and sang with Stanislav as the Anthem of the USSR played throughout Soldier Field. It was a night to remember.
The Chicago Hospital System (I believe the name of the specific hospital is Chicago City Hospital #3), eventually arrived with an experimental new device to help those of such thin, cowardly blood when they are beaten to within an inch of their life.
The “Sponge of Life.”
It is a device in the same vein as the famous “Jaws of Life,” but this is used to literally sop up all of the fluids that have exited a person once they have been shown their true place. They took the time, gingerly of course, to sop up all of what was left of Brandon Youngblood.
We may never see him again. One can only hope.
I took the time out to interview Alexei Ruslan afterwards, for I dared not interrupt Stanislav as he celebrated his Universal Title win. I must say, not only was Mr. Ruslan very well spoken and intelligent, but quite handsome and photogenic.
Anyway, he had this to say.
“Well what can I say? Brandon Youngblood took the time out to suplex and attack me over and over again in the past, but he never had the testicles to wrestle Ivan Stanislav in a fair fight. Now he did, and that piece of filth is over! The Red Era has begun!”
Sometimes, when I’m feeling low, dear readers, I replay that sound byte just to feel better about myself. It always works.
There were other important happenings across those two evenings as well.
We were greeted by an amazing video of Ivan Stanislav taking the time out of his busy schedule to inspect the cage and commend those who put it together. So inspiring!
Also, Ivan Stanislav’s pre-match speech about time running out? Gripping.
The rest of the show was comparatively boring.
And so, as a 100% American journalist who is absolutely unbiased and is known as a “Call ‘em like you see ‘em” type, I have to say that I left Soldier Field a changed man. I can only hope that Ivan Stanislav reads this, and if he does, I wish to send him a message.
Thank you, Ivan Stanislav. Thank you for one entire year of greatness. A year of hope. A year of good triumphing over evil. Three hundred and sixty-five days of steadfast resolve that culminated in the most climactic battle in PRIME.
You didn’t have to do it, Praporshchik Stanislav, but you did anyway.
For this, you have my thanks.
If anyone wishes to write back to me, I encourage you to do so! You can find my contact information attached to this communication. Please, though, if you do write to me, send me a copy of your Social Security card, a sample of your blood, and fingerprints, if possible.
Even though I’m an atheist and I would never put stock in any form of control over the workers of the world, I will close with this, all the same:
God Bless America.
And God, even though you’re fake, Bless Ivan Stanislav.
100% American Patriot
Acclaimed Independent Journalist
P.s. With Youngblood possibly gone forever, I suppose that fatass Bobby Dean will get a bye in the Almasy.