Interviewer: Welcome back! If you're just tuning in, my guest tonight on "No Holds Barred" is wrestler Jon Moxley, and he's about to finish the most graphically disturbing interview we've ever had on the show- and possibly get us cancelled. [laughs]

Jon: Thanks for having me! [laughs]

Where the fuck was I? OK, yeah, Tyler and I were on our knees and he had his tongue down my fucking throat and I couldn't fucking think. Seriously, if you ever get a chance to kiss the guy- just do it, it doesn't matter if you're a dude or not, you'll understand. I still had one hand in his collar, but honestly I'm a sick guy and I wanted him on his back so I unclipped the carabiner, hooked my free hand in his belt and just flipped him over my head. He landed on the table with the most satisfying 'thud' and I have to admit, I was pretty fucking proud of myself because I managed to execute a pretty rad wrestling move in the middle of all that. Like, we're the same height but I've got maybe fifteen pounds on the guy- it wasn't, like, hard to flip him but my head was swimming and I still managed to execute that flip textbook wrestling-style. I hope Les Thatcher is listening to this fucking story. I was always shit at flips in training. [laughs] Anyway. He let out this really shocked gasp and arched his back- leave it to Tyler fucking Black to sell a move during sex. I guess we're just programmed to do that shit. [laughs] Anyway, that's all the opening I fucking needed. I was on that guy like… I don't even know what. And even though I was drowning, he went to cover up and I pinned the fuck out of his arms- right down by his head, just like I imagined WAY back in that fucking gym. God, that seemed like a million fucking miles away but I love when shit works out like that. I was seriously laughing when I got right down in his face because he was really fucking scared. I'm sure he thought I was going to kill him or something. I probably could have, honestly- my chaotic character mixed with my street dog brain and I literally could have done anything right at that fucking moment. I had him! I mean, I fucking had him! [laughs] Part of me wanted to just tear him apart. I mean, people who get off on pain- that's all they think about in those situations. So I had him and I kinda fucking lost it. I wrapped the chain around my fist and hit him hard in the jaw and sort of growled, "who's the fucking bastard now, huh?" And this time when I kissed him I tasted blood.

Listen, if I'm a messed up dude, then Tyler's a sick fuck, because he kissed me right the fuck back. In fact, he wrapped both shaking hands around my head and held me there against him, bleeding all over us both. He's got a really sweet quality to his kisses, though, especially when he's scared. They're like, better than blow- you know what I'm saying? Seriously though, who does that…?

...Fucked up people, that's who! [laughs]

I told you it's hard to control my brain sometimes. Like, I could have just kissed Tyler for half the night in that post-orgasm haze and part of my brain would've thought that was fucking fantastic. But then my street dog brain broke through all that and said, "there's no sport to this, Jon. Make him hurt, motherfucker. Make him come." And you can only kick that thought around in your head for so long before you hit a point of no return. My chaotic evil character took over. I peeled his hands off me, head-butted him so hard his head hit the fucking table and wrapped both my hands around his throat. He grabbed my forearms in a panic but like I said I've got a few pounds on Tyler so it's not like he could do shit to me. And that's when I really started talking. I was staring his ass down and said, "I could just hold you here until you stopped thrashing and the life left that beautiful fucking body, Tyler. I could fucking do that to you. You know I could. And when they finally found you they'd probably do an autopsy and they'd pump your stomach and see that it's full of my come and they'd fucking know what a slut you were. That you died a fucking cocksucker." And he was like, "Then they'd know it was you, motherfucker," and I was like, "No, they'd know it was SOMEBODY, you fucking slut. You think I've got a record or something? Shit. I'd be halfway across the fucking country, remembering what your black fucking eyes looked like when you stopped breathing, and jacking off to the thought of your last gasps as I strangled the fucking life out of you. Remembering what it felt like to feel you struggle until you finally submitted to me. Forever." Let me tell you, his body was on fucking FIRE. He was so hot he was practically crying at that point. He had his boots against the table and was trying to get traction to throw me off him, so I did the only thing I could think of at that moment…

I've banged a lot of crazy chicks, so I know that if you alternate violence and sex you can really fuck with someone's mind. Tyler's not as physically strong as I am but as he'd already demonstrated he had ways to get to me, and I couldn't let that happen going forward. So I let go of his neck and grabbed his hair with one hand. As he went to gasp for air I cut him off with a kiss and started rubbing his fly. I didn't need to though; I could feel how fucking hard he was when I was on top of him. I just kept him like that for a second, until he relaxed a bit. So he had no clue I was about to do what I did. I let go of everything all at once, his mouth, his hair, the front of his pants- everything. And since Tyler got "Fight Club" stuck in my brain, I whispered, "I wanna destroy everything beautiful I can never have." Then in one motion I rocked back on my heels, flipped him over on his stomach and put my knee in his lower back. I looped the chain around his neck and pulled- he's really fucking flexible so he arched way back. Like, "holy shit you are flexible" -way back. [laughs]

What little breathing he could do was coming in these beautiful fucking gasps so I knew I'd gotten him pretty close. I just dug my knee into his back and sort of ground his hips into the table real slow a couple of times, but I was still keeping pressure on that chain around his neck. Since I had him bent back my face was right next to his and I could feel his hot fucking tears. If I hadn't just come ten minutes before that I'd probably have been hard again, you know? It was fucking incredible. I just whispered, "come for me, you gorgeous bastard." And that's all he fucking needed. He made sort of a whispered "guh" sound and his body went limp against my knee and I knew I'd done it. I loosened up on the chain and got my knee out of his back and he rolled over with his arms out, like he'd been crucified or some shit. It had to have been good for him because it took, like, a full five minutes for his eyes to focus again and to catch his breath, but then I heard him talk.

He was still shaking from the orgasm or whatever so he was doing it but he was gasping between the words, so it came out like, "How [gasp] did [gasp] you [gasp] fucking [gasp] KNOW?" And really he could have been asking me anything, like, 'how did you know I liked dudes?' or 'how did you know I sucked at dog collar matches?' [laughs] But I just fucking knew he was asking me how I figured out he was a slut for pain. So right in his ear I whispered, "I knew it from the moment I first saw you wrestle. I knew it the first time I saw you get hit. I saw what it did to you. I saw you were just like me." He let out this sort of ragged sigh then and I realized he'd been holding his breath while I talked. I know it's weird, but I realized I'd been holding my breath then, too.

And we were laying there, half dressed, covered in blood, chained together with dog collars and it occurred to me that if anyone from the bar DID walk out into that courtyard just then, they would have beaten us to death and strung us from a fence right there. Like, there was no disguising the fact that we were fags for each other. But you know what? I would have fucking taken that beating, and Tyler would have too, and I don't think we would have felt shit. Like you could have literally beaten me to death and I would have died with that "I just got laid" fucking smile on my face.

You know there's that saying, if you like something or whatever, let it go and if it comes back you were supposed to have it but if it flies off you weren't- I know I'm fucking that up but you know the saying I'm talking about, right? Whatever. I really wanted Tyler to fucking stay, but I didn't want to force him, you know? Like it'd be a thousand times better if he figured out he wanted to stay on his own. My Moxley character is one thing, but I'm not fucking possessive like that- I can't be. You get possessive like that, and shit gets taken from you. I cut a promo about that once. To really keep something with you, you have to absorb it into your body and keep it with you- I felt like I had a piece of Tyler, but I wasn't fucking sure.

So I let him lay there, but I carefully unbuckled the dog collar so he could run away if he got scared or embarrassed or whatnot. And I just laid next to him on the table and I REALLY needed a smoke and didn't give two shits about anything at that point so I grabbed the cigarette case out of my back pocket and just lit one. I was so out of it, and honestly I expected Tyler to get up as soon as he could fucking focus his eyes again, so I didn't really register it when I felt his hand run along my arm until he took the cigarette from me. And he took the longest drag- didn't even cough or anything! He handed it back to me, rolled to his side, snaked his arm across my body and then it was just him breathing in my ear. Just breathing. The fucker fell asleep against the guy who tried to kill him. I couldn't fucking take that, I just finished my smoke and stared up at the fucking stars and tried to make some fucking sense out of that, but I couldn't, so I think I nodded off too… I must have- that's important later in the story. It was like, fucked up people-love, you know what I'm saying…?

…..

So the rest of the story isn't nearly that badass. I'd noticed some hanging flower baskets on the front of the bar when we'd come in so I knew there had to be a water hose somewhere. We found it and sort of washed the obvious blood and shit off. I found our car and grabbed my stuff and loaned Tyler a shirt. He looked like a dumbass in my clothes but I felt like it was the least I could fucking do, you know? And we just sort of silently went our separate ways; I'm not sure if my guys even noticed I was wearing a different fucking shirt! They were sooooo trashed. [laughs] Anyway, the really funny part came later when I got back to our motel. I was exhausted but aching from the fight so I hopped in the shower and as I got soap on my body I noticed that my side really fucking hurt. Like, it was stinging like a motherfucker. I pulled the curtain back on the shower so I could see myself in the mirror and I guess while I was really out of it Tyler had carved his fucking phone number into my side. Like, with a piece of beer bottle or some shit because the dude's nails aren't that long. [laughs] I was so fucking high from the whole thing that I didn't even notice he'd done that! Can you fucking believe it? Anyway… you wanna see it? I actually still have the scars there- they're really faint, you can't see them unless you really look; they just blend with the rest of the fucking scars I've got. But if you know what you're looking at, you can see them. God, now everybody's going to be looking at me the next time I wrestle! Maybe FCW will put Tyler and I in matching gear or something to cover it up! [laughs] I guess if we debut and we're wearing shirts or some shit, you'll know why!

…So that's how I met Tyler Black… and it's sort of been like that ever since.

I: …That is one incredibly fucked up story, Jon.

J: Why, thank you! [laughs]

I: But it's got to be one of the best we've EVER had on "No Holds Barred." I'm not blowing smoke up your ass- it really was incredible. Not sure how we're going to top that, but I guess you'll have to tune in next week to find out. This has been Jon Moxley and I for "No Holds Barred." See you next week. Goodnight!

Author's note: Do not misinterpret the final sentences of this story- I don't plan on making this a series. As fun as this story was to write- it's incredibly fucking difficult to analyze literally every word and decide "would Jon Moxley say that?" Also, I solemnly swear I will refrain from run on sentences FOREVER. I never want to say never, but I'm done with first person for awhile. In fact, I may just hate-write a story where all I do is use shit like "throbbing member" and other words Jon would never say. You'll have to wait and see. ;D