The Big Glue House (not enough)

All I ever wanted was everything. Fuck stopping the Lizard King. Give ‘em what they ask for. —--

There’s not enough.

When it comes down to it, the resources available at the Farthington Manor are great - really, no, they are. You can’t find mazes like that anymore. And the Drippin’ Room? And the GUEST Drippin’ Room? Five stars, and that’s a review I’ll defend a hundred times before Cancer Jiles gets his first one in.

And yeah, the general feeling that everything before “but” is bullshit, so……….but.

For all the necessary pomp and magnitude of the grounds, there’s something missing. Farthington Manor is not enough. All the sweet boys who make up the Glueminati are real ones, but when you start a calendar year with no gold to your name, there’s not enough.

It’s why I started this side project with you, Julien.

Oh, hang on, sorry - “side” is a misnomer. A side project is like, I dunno, staining a deck? Or like - doing everything you can to make your kid hate you? That’s what Henri (and a few others around here) (er-HEM) used to do (or still do? I dunno, I haven’t heard from certain people in a while), and while it wasn’t like the MAIN thing they did, it certainly seems to give that type of person a certain type of joy that others might find from like. Crafts.

(“Is ThIs AbOuT mOi?” No, it’s about the other one of you)

(No, the OTHER other one)

(...nah, it’s about so many of y’all)

(You all deserve FLAMBERGE being inflicted upon you)

(Straighten your goddamn back before looking Julien Lavigne in the eye and saying you have an inch of moral high ground)

(Or that you pity him)

(Justice may be dead in the world but an ass beating sure as shit lives on)

(Make it 30 of them)

No, this is bigger than a side project. It’s got main project potential.

We christened a brand-new Glue Factory: the Big Glue House. Honest to goodness. The levers are all there - machines, tools, bottles. Steams.

First product launch went great. Zapp really just sort of ate shit in the end, didn’t he? But it’s his fault in the first place for deciding to buddy up with Anglue and putting a fresh target on his back. Two neck collections just aren’t enough for some people, and so, the final message must be permanent:

Buy Glue.

…

Let’s take a look outside, shall we?

How to best describe it, because it’s not the same aesthetic as Farthington Manor…it’s got some of the familiar charms of the old Glue Factory, but with certain differences. Some would call them avant garde, others may call them jarring, but let’s just call them “choices”.

Like the fact that the outside of the entire building is painted bright teal.

Did we get Phil’s direct approval on that? Oh - that’s right. We haven’t told him about any of this yet. I wonder if he watches the show. He’s got a lot on his plate, and ramps to roll up and down. So, no, no direct approval from the Humble Proprietor of the original Glue Factory. I think it will be best to wait to show him all the good works we’ve been up to until after we have a few more samples to distribute.

“Quelle surprise!” he’ll say, “Magnifique!” he’ll say. It’s going to be great.

The bricks from this place have to be over a hundred years old, they’ll be here long after we all die, and now they’re all bright teal. And I have to say I love it. Not enough buildings alert you to the specific dangers within quite like this, what with the most electric teal known to man and the little copper statuettes of you and the boys. It’s the kind of thing that would make you panic if you saw it in nature - touching a frog whose colors match this place would be a pretty awful way to die. Look at the little Hayes statue over there - they did a terrific job capturing the vacant and scornful look he gets in his eye after that second gin.

The doors are doors, which is nice. Not all doors are doors in these sorts of facilities, historically. Joe had some big ideas. We nixed a couple of them, which hurts because he (like all the Glue Boiz, really) have gotten a lot closer lately, but you know. Permits and whatnot. Can’t have our lifelong ambition of committing Old Way Of Doing Things Genocide get held up by a zoning committee. We did keep his idea for a jriving ranje, though. Practice makes perfect when it comes to jolf, and there may be some untapped product synergy there.

Speaking of doors, there’s a big one at the front. It’s got a pegasus painted on it. Neat. Let’s stare at it for a while.

…

…

Somebody had to do it.

No one was going to do it for me. Everyone in the Glueminati is on their own war paths right now. Hayes, Joe, Cecilworth - we’ve always had each others’ backs, sure, and we’ll help each other where we can’t, but there’s a reason we’ve only heard “Razzmatazz” a couple times now - we’re all very independent, and when it comes down to it, every one of our individual reasons for aligning together under the Glue banner is deeply personal and separate from everyone else.

I’ll support Hayes Hanlon every way I can, but his battle with Jason Snow and the rest of the roster is his own. Same with Cecilworth - he’s deserved this, his moment in the sun as PRIME’s top boy, ever since he debuted as the 41st 40th man at the Culture Shock Battle Royal in 2023. He was magic then, he’s magic now, and as valuable as it is to advise him to “choke Ivan Stanislav out with a large rope”, Cecilworth can only beat Ivan in Cecilworth’s way. 

Our goals are ultimately the same, but the methods are unique, our targets are independent, the paths diverge and wind and split until they come together at the right time.

Culture Shock seems like the right time. With any luck, team Glue takes back some gold from the olds on night one; with a lot of luck, all of us end up with the hardware and these old fucks (and the hot dog guy) can begin the transition to their next careers as Old Timers With Tables at the Convention at a School’s Gym Near You (and maybe a new food for the hot dog guy, burgers or something) (oh wait we already have a burgers guy) (maybe chicken sandwiches, then) (...I wonder what Craig Hamburgers is up to) 

My fight is my own because none of the other guys have been on the front lines of this fight as long as me. Cecilworth funded the whole operation, sure, but there was a solid year there where it was me in the ring. Just me. No backup. “Dangerous Weirdo” singular. 

I threw everything behind Phil Atken all the way back at ReVival 13, and just when Glue was set to really get rolling, Phil’s career was snuffed out from under him (still owe Cancer a talking to) (and more) (...put a pin in that). I became a soldier fighting for the flag of a nation that didn’t exist anymore. 

Loyalty paid off. Believing in the mission with my whole being paid off. Look at us now - look at ME now. I kicked off 2025 by beating a man who was already main event caliber BEFORE going all roid rage. Being named a Hall of Famer before I can rent a fucking car in America made a lot of people angry, but anyone mad at my success just wishes they strong enough to commit the way I commit. It’s not even a “talent” thing - there’s plenty of talent in PRIME, and anyone can beat anyone on any given Friday…no one radiates the sheer electricity I do.

And so if anyone was going to build a Big Glue House, it had to be me. Because somebody had to do it.

I deserve it, and the PRIME roster deserves it. I’ve earned it, and the PRIME roster has earned it.

…

…

Let’s take a peek inside!

…hm, yes, plenty of work still to be done, isn’t there. The interior decor has lots of room for growth. There’s the homage to the old mantle where you displayed your neck collection over at Farthington Manor - oh shit, really? Not just an homage? That’s the real genuine article, isn’t it? Yes, I see it now - boy, you really just ripped that thing off the old Drippin’ Room wall, didn’t you? I can see the warping from all that moisture.

No necks on it though, and I have some mixed feelings on that, but honestly it’s pretty low on the totem pole in terms of Things I Insist You Do Or Don’t Do. If the vision you have going works, then the vision works. There’s a reason Phil Atken chose you to join him in the manufacture of wrestler-based adhesives before any other outsider, and that’s because you’ve got an eye for this sort of thing. The necks can stay in storage until - what’s that? Oh, right, the Ivan neck. Yeah, that was a good call turning it into an enormous pendant and putting it on a chain. It weighs a ton, but its physical weight adds to the psychological weight that it needs to convey.

Stepping through the entryway, and ope - that’s a second door, isn’t it. Yep, it is. I understand the concerns - sometimes there might be a delivery, and no reason to terrify the Uber Eats guy by letting him see what’s going on behind that second door. It’s a minor inconvenience in the grand scheme of things - the fabby of home decor.

Second door open now, and - oh wow, yep, that makes a lot of sense. It would be jarring to the guy who drops off your burritos to see a giant conveyor belt just up and running. And the vats. So many vats. And the levers. Is that brass? Huh. Looks weathered, but with stories. Grandma’s best skillet type of weathered - you can’t cook anything quite like you can cook in one of those things.

Got any new product up and running? I know you had big plans to run Coral Avalon through this thing, the margin on those sales projections was insane…it’s too bad you’ll have to cancel that product line unless he decides to un-retire. I thought that maybe you’d get the Daytona Diamonds line up and running, but fair’s fair and he hasn’t been put out to pasture just yet. One day, maybe.

The pallets of empty bottles are a sight to behold - how many are there? A hundred per box, four by four stack, how many stacks…that’s thousands of bottles, FLAMBO. That’s what I like to see: aspirational goal-setting.

…

This whole scenario seems to take up the entire first floor, the more I look at it. I thought there would be more rooms, like a bathroom or a kitchen or something. In fairness, the production floor of a factory is something like a kitchen. Ever see videos of how they mass produce jars of peanut butter? That’s basically a kitchen, and I wager if you replaced peanuts with Zapp Scatino you’d get a similar consistency. Maybe a little more of a Spicy Italian flavor. Those big tubes that pour in just the right of goop into those jars…so satisfying. ASMR for a person who’s a fan of horrifying post-capitalist efficiency.

Oh, good, I see it now - the stairs in the far corner. They lead up! A wonderful option. Maybe we could mosey over there?

…

…

This is not just a factory - this is my foot on the gas with the brakes ripped out. 

Maybe it sends me crashing into the walls, but I’ll sure as hell take a lot of them out with me. Because it’s not just the Olds who have to go - it’s also the cowards.

Self-preservation is the coward’s instinct. Safety is milquetoast. Safety leaves you on the wrong side of history.

So many wrestlers in PRIME have just as much raw wrestling ability as me - maybe even more.

(to be clear, I would beat the shit out of anyone here in a shiai - this sport just came later, and there are multitudes of shitty would-be Nate Colton bitch-asses on the roster who came out the canal grappling) 

(I’ve overtaken just about all of them in the raw ability part, the rest is just seasoning) 

(imagine when I have a decade of professional wrestling experience under my belt) 

(my shit is already so undeniable that I’m a fucking Hall of Famer less than three years into a career, all at the highest level this sport offers)

(why stop now)

So many people who are just as bad as the Olds, just happy to be here competing in this high-level environment. Living safely, wrestling safely, adrift, letting the flow take them wherever, whenever.

C'est un affront. 

And I will keep the pedal of this race car on the fucking floor until professional wrestling finally joins the Glueminati here in the future of this sport.

No matter who we need to run over. No matter who we need to plop on the conveyor belt to run through the machines that make old horses quite sticky indeed.

…

…though it only really dawns on me now, the future consequences that may arrive after this Manhunt. 

I think Cecilworth is going to take down Stanislav. The Glueminati has an exceptional record  against the Reds, and Cecilworth is on a heater.

Winner of the Manhunt gets a Universal Championship shot at UltraViolence. And I have every intention of leaving the Tokyo Dome having gone two for two.

…I guess that means the Princes of Glue are going to lead from the front. As we often do.

…

…

Well isn’t this cozy! Plenty of long branches strewn about with hammocks strung between them. A nice way to get into the headspace we so crave.

…hang on, is that a wet bar? Neat! Let’s see how you’ve stocked it…pink bubbly wine for you, gins and tonics for Hayes, tea for Cecilworth, different flavors of Fanta for Joe, yep, it’s all there. It’s so considerate to look out for your crew. Have they visited here yet? They haven’t. I suppose I could have cleaned that from how full those bottles are. Maybe there’s a ribbon cutting ceremony we could do, eh? Something provocative and triumphant, a grand opening to the public, or at least these specific guys.

And then Phil later. What does he drink? Does he consume liquids? He could. Probably won’t use the hammocks, though. That’s ok - because oh no, it just occurred to me. He’s not getting up to this floor, is he? Not until we get an elevator installed.

Ope indeed.

He’s not much of a social butterfly, though, so it’s probably not going to come up for that sort of thing, if he even leaves Farthington Manor anymore. And who could blame him for not wanting to leave? Hank’s there.

…there’s a bathroom up here, right? Oh, thank goodness. I had some real concerns, because I’m looking around more and more and I see some of your personal effects lying around. I see that War Games scarf has been strewn about - working through some feelings on that night one tag match, are we? - and I see some other clothes, a charger, an iPad, hang on now - are you living here? Is this your home?

What am I supposed to do with “yes and no”?

…you’re not living here full time, but you’ve spent a fair share of nights here, got it. I take that to mean that your dating life continues to be nonexistent. I’ve got to say, FLAMBO, I’m impressed with that. It’s not every day a super megastar athlete who looks as good as you is able to put aside the personal frivolities and truly go all in on work.

I know as well as anybody how hard of a path that had to be for you to transition to. I know the torch you’ve carried for Sid, and the one you carried for Jordan. You know as well as I do that they were never going to be the right fit for you. It takes a special kind of partner to ride shotgun in a very fast car with no brakes, and yes, Sid and Jordan were special in their own ways, but - come on.

They have big hearts, but they lack big ideas. Let them make someone else miserable. The arc of history is long and bends towards getting your dick wet.

…

Hey, FLAMBO. It just occurred to me.

You’ve taken care of all the overhead for getting this up and running, right? And you’ve got more than enough empty glue bottles on standby. I know you have plans to hit and hit and hit and choke and choke and choke until one or more (hopefully many) (and hopefully a few specific bitches) biiiiiiitches get their necks properly collected so you can start kicking off those machines downstairs, but…how are you going to get them from Tokyo to this building?

…you don’t have that part yet. That’s cool, that’s cool cool cool cool. At least you’re honest. It’s a roadblock worth considering.

I mean, don’t stop the first part of this plan - collect every goddamn neck you can and make sure that the Glueminati headlines UltraViolence come hell or high fucking water - and worry about those logistics later.

Maybe we can get Joe to help with inventory management.

Good ol’ Joe. I’m coming around on him - that round of jolf really opened my eyes to some things. He’s properly bonkers now. He started from a strong foundation of crazy and hilarious, and has now added scary and spooky.

Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious. The Glueminati way.

…

…

Yeah, good ol’ Joe. And good ol’ Hayes, and good ol’ Cecilworth, too. Such a bunch of good boys we all are. A fantastic jolf foursome to boot.

Crazy, scary, spooky, hilarious.

…

Lots of room in this house. With the windows down, we can catch the moon here. “Kitchen”’s there, bathroom’s there.

Looking up, I see the door on the ceiling, but I haven’t taken the time to set up the ladder that would be necessary to reach it, so, haven’t been in there yet. I wonder if it might be an attic full of stuff. Special stuff. Fun stuff. Fun for me, fun for you, in this house of Glue. 

Or, like so many cowards in PRIME, there’s nothing upstairs at all. A beautiful lamp with a dead bulb.

Time will tell.

“Proprietor”, forever. “Humble”, never.

A new factory for a new mission and a new generation. Ground literally broken in pursuit of change. 

Welcome, welcome, welcome to the Big Glue House, voice. I did this for us. Now that you’re here, let’s begin.

…

…

I’d really like that, Julien.