Piddlemaker's Lament

The Widowmaker: a mean cuss and a self -proclaimed son of a bitch. For most of this season of FUCR he's barely popped that groundhog head of his out long enough to say two misspelled words. What the fuck's he doing? The bastard can throw down, no question, but that's exactly why he can kiss my ass. All the fighting and all the guts he should have been bringing to the league and it's just been wasted. Yeah, he's got the wins, but he can't claim he's walked over The Assembly Line to get them. His wrestlers have had their heads caved in against my guys just as much as his stable has given mine some bloody lips. So now he wants to come out on the boards and act like he can call me out?!

Fuck that, Piddlemaker, and fuck you. You shoulda been matching my attitude from the very first match this season! You've had yer moments, almost to the level the league needed you to step up, but you fucking blew it. I guess that's a trait you inherited from yer momma.

Hell, maybe even yer pops.

Yer a hell of a disappointment Piddles, and you ain't fooling Tex Brickley. Play tough all you want, maybe you'll impress Shlotzky. He scares easy, The Assembly Line doesn't.

You definitely bring it when you sing it, but you need to be stepping up and putting people in check a helluva lot more if you want me to be impressed. The Reverend is lucky he's even more worthless, but yer supposed to be an original shit kicker and smack talker. So step up Piddles, step the fuck up!

Hell, he probably won't even read this. He probably thinks the title here is Piddlemaker's Lamont and that it has something to do with Sanford and Son!