Post by "The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce on Feb 13, 2016 11:36:11 GMT -5
Grimm Circumstances - Part One
The powder blue Toyota Prius coasted to a slow, deliberate stop. The driver and his two passengers stared gap-mouthed at the sign set firmly at the borderline of what almost seemed to be the edge of beauty and color itself; a post marking the edge of Hangtown, Kentucky. The weathered slats of the wooden sign not only proclaimed the territory behind it, it exemplified it; dreary and unwelcoming to the outsiders gawking at it.
The pavement faded into a cobblestone pathway before them. For at least a full minute, the three in the car just gawped, unsure of what lay ahead. Even the trees and vegetation seemed to give off a foreboding warning, telling visitors to turn away from this place. Gripping the steering wheel, Dan frowned, but looked resolute for the task at hand.
"What. In. Gay. Hell?" Brian slowly broke the silence from the passenger seat. "You are not seriously going in there are you? I know you need a paycheck to help pay for your hospital stay and rehab, but this?"
"I have to," answered Dan, a fake smile plastered in a meager attempt to ease his fellow travelers' tension, and perhaps hide his own jangled nerves. "My first assignment for Pure Class Wrestling was to put together the Superstar Spotlight for Phinehas Dillinger. He insisted that I meet him here."
A slow, panicked moan like a demented tea kettle erupted from the back seat.
"I think Nina is up," touted Brian, still staring unrelentingly at the road ahead.
The ebony drag queen behind Dan became wide-eyed at the prospect of continuing forward. "OH. HELL. NO!" The bedazzled likeness of Beyonce that traveled along for the ride swatted Dan pointedly across the top of his head. "Bitch! You isn't taking my black ass up in there!"
Dan was slightly amused by her Creole accent surfacing through her discontent. No matter how she tried to play it off, Nina D'onne was still a New Orleans girl at her core, despite being a native of the Big Apple for most of her adult life before relocating to Dan's hometown of San Francisco. "This nigga don't do no Stephen King bullshit!" She paused, crossing her arms defensively. "Uh-uh. Nope. You ain't tol' me we goin' to no 'Hangtown.' Dis place make parts of N'oleans feel like a sanctuary. You get me outta dis 'Hills Have Eyes' landscape tout de suite."
Brian grimaced, the words in his mouth leaving a bad taste in his mouth even before they escaped. "As much as I'd hate to admit it, I agree with Nina for once. Nothing good is going to happen here."
Dan shook his head tersely, wiggling an accusing finger at his company. "You two could have stayed home, you know. Stop being such wusses. This place doesn't scare me." Dan began creeping the car forward into the unknown. "Much," he thought, swallowing nervously trying to convince himself.
The bricks growled underneath their tires ominously, their car lending a dot of color to an otherwise bland background. As they made their way to the town square, the lamplighter strode the street on his stilts, lighting the gas street lights as the evening arose. The trio gawked in an amusing mixture of child-like wonder, bewilderment, and horror as their car traveled through what appeared to be a time warp, carrying all back to a time before the Industrial Revolution.
The ivy covered buildings were merely missing a thatch rooftop to complete the illusion of a temporal disturbance. The inhabitants, though still covered in clothes that were so far out of date that they were "vintage" before "vintage" was invented as a style, seemed normal enough for the most part.
"I swear to GAWD," stated Dan in an attempt to ease the mood, "if I see that Kim Davis bitch up in here, I'm going to slap her so hard her head will spin."
"At this point," added Brian, "I'd even welcome that backwards thinking hooker." He paused, adding to the tension. "I bet these people still have a one-room schoolhouse with a single school marm for a teacher."
As they paraded down the road, their stares were returned by an equally appalled and curious lot of locals, gaping at them as if the last time they saw colorful people in their streets, a riot had broken loose. The travelers gulped their gratitude as the yokels kept a respectable distance. Their apprehension was returned in spades as mothers coddled their children, guiding them away from the potential threat. Or were they retreating from the darkness? Dan was unable to tell.
What he did notice was as the light left the sky, a different type of persons began roaming the streets. His guard was up, constantly checking all around in case a hasty getaway was needed. He produced a slip of paper with the words "Bad Omens Booksellers" scribbled neatly in a very feminine, loopy scrawl across it.
He finally steeled his nerves, rolling his window down as he approached an elderly lady loping as best she could down the street, paying no attention to their town's most recent guests. "What the actual hell are you doing?" growled Brian through gritted teeth, his head affixed forward.
Dan sucked through his teeth. "I'm getting directions, of course."
"Dis how it starts," added Nina as she began rifling through her purse in a panic. "You DO know dat the black girl is almost always the first to die in horror movies, right?" She began to mutter under her breath, "Where my gun at?"
"Excuse me, ma'am..." Dan stopped and spun on the back seat, "Wait, what? You have a gun? In my car?"
Apparently the one side of the conversation was all the inspiration the older woman needed to put some steam in her step. Before Dan could stop her, she had painfully sped away, ducking into a structure with a slam of the door behind her.
Dan threw his hands up in defeat as he watched his prospective assistant disappear. "Great. Now I have to find someone else to tell me where this place is." He returned his attention to Nina. "We'll talk about this later."
A young black haired boy strolled down the path, the other locals seemingly giving the grade-schooler a wider berth than normal. Undaunted, Dan peeked his head out of the window. "Excuse me, kiddo..."
Dan wasn't sure if his feminine voice stopped the youth in his tracks, or if it was the fact that someone dared to speak to him that halted his walk. Slowly, almost unnervingly so, the child turned to face the newcomers, the dim light of the gas lights and his mid-length bangs overshadowing his eyes so they couldn't be seen.
Dan carried on dismissively. "Be a sweetie and tell me where the Bad Omens Bookseller is."
A rictus grin spread across the kid's face, sending chills down their collective spines. "Do you have an appointment?" The ominous tone in his voice added to their discomfort.
"Beg your pardon?" Dan seemed genuinely thrown off by the question.
"It's only open by appointment. Do you have one?" The boy's tone sweetened robotically, as if someone had turned his intensity knob back down to a five via remote control.
"I'm here to meet someone," Dan's own voice trailed off as he studied the paper, the tension in his body causing him to forget just why he was in that godforsaken village. A single drop of nervous sweat trickled down his cheek, not going unnoticed by the ward. "A Phinehas Grimm."
The grin retreated from his lips. Now it was the child's turn for unease. Dan could feel the air of retreat build in the boy as he processed the information. He watched as the kid practically sniff the breeze, or perhaps listen to distant commotions with the caution of a fox being hunted. "Check the Owl and Eel. He's sometimes there." The lad pointed deep into the center of the town to a tavern with a dim light flickering beyond the windows.
Dan peered in the direction the youth had indicated. "Are you sure? We're not from around..." His voice trailed off as he searched for the youngster, who had all but disappeared. "...here." Dan wasn't sure even his normally sunny disposition could take a whole lot more of this town. "I guess we're going to the local watering hole."
"Is you trippin', boo?" Nina chimed, her Creole accent calming slightly. "I'd like a cocktail as much as anybody, but I really doubt anyone here knows how to make a good Cosmo."
Dan approached, parking the car close enough to the bar, yet far enough to keep themselves isolated in case of trouble. Stepping out, he bent down, peering inside with a hopeful gaze at his companions. "Coming?"
"Not even at gunpoint. Leave the keys," ordered Brian coldly. "We'll wait here."
Nina just silently turned away, her gaze never once leaving the gathering of three men decorating the walls next to the entrance. "Doze boys gon' be trouble, boo," she stated, her accent returning with a vengeance. "Bes' be careful."
Dan pursed his lips sarcastically. "Mmm-hmm. I'm glad you two have my back." He slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the glass. Straightening himself out to look presentable in his business casual attire and London fog coat, he took in a deep breath to calm his anxiety. "It's just an interview," he mumbled under his breath. "Then we can get out of here."
His unease grew with each step, but his martial arts training taught him how to hide apprehension from any potential threats. He strode up confidently to the entrance, simultaneously ignoring and listening to the growing conversation betwixt the men flanking the doorway, the hairs on the nape of his neck echoing the vibe he got as he closed in.
To Be Fabulously Continued...
"I know that shoot promos aren't a thing in PCW," started the Fabulous one, "so I'll keep this video blog brief. My return to the ring may be a short-lived one. I'm not even sure if this old body can take the action anymore."
"I can't say I miss all of the aches and pains this industry cased me throughout the years. One of the things I did miss are the fans." Dan smiled widely. "I've gotten to be in the ring with some interesting people, a lot of them have gone their own ways. This was going to be a fresh start for me. New faces and new places. Best of all, no traveling."
Dan giggled. "I have to admit it was nice to see a couple of familiar faces with Nathan Saniti, and now Raven Hex coming out of the woodwork, though I have to say Nathan is far different than I remember him."
"I got a wonderful welcome from the Pure Class Faithful, as well as 'Daddy Bear,' Cory 'Jury' Steel on last week's Glam Slam. I think it was then that I felt compelled to step between the ropes and lace up my boots again."
"Speaking of the interesting people I've been privy to, I'm teaming up with another fellow PCW newcomer, the Disco Stud to face a pair who look like their straight out of an old timey Barnum and Bailey's 'strong man' banner, the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club."
"I'm not going to sit here and tell you boys we'll win. I'm just going to do the sportwomanly thing and wish you the best of luck. I don't know what to expect from my partner, or the both of you, for that matter. What you can expect from me is that this girl is going to let her claws come out. I have to give this my all. Sorry boys. It sucks to be you. Toodles, kiddies." Dan wiggles his fingers at the camera before it snaps off.
January 20, 2016
The powder blue Toyota Prius coasted to a slow, deliberate stop. The driver and his two passengers stared gap-mouthed at the sign set firmly at the borderline of what almost seemed to be the edge of beauty and color itself; a post marking the edge of Hangtown, Kentucky. The weathered slats of the wooden sign not only proclaimed the territory behind it, it exemplified it; dreary and unwelcoming to the outsiders gawking at it.
The pavement faded into a cobblestone pathway before them. For at least a full minute, the three in the car just gawped, unsure of what lay ahead. Even the trees and vegetation seemed to give off a foreboding warning, telling visitors to turn away from this place. Gripping the steering wheel, Dan frowned, but looked resolute for the task at hand.
"What. In. Gay. Hell?" Brian slowly broke the silence from the passenger seat. "You are not seriously going in there are you? I know you need a paycheck to help pay for your hospital stay and rehab, but this?"
"I have to," answered Dan, a fake smile plastered in a meager attempt to ease his fellow travelers' tension, and perhaps hide his own jangled nerves. "My first assignment for Pure Class Wrestling was to put together the Superstar Spotlight for Phinehas Dillinger. He insisted that I meet him here."
A slow, panicked moan like a demented tea kettle erupted from the back seat.
"I think Nina is up," touted Brian, still staring unrelentingly at the road ahead.
The ebony drag queen behind Dan became wide-eyed at the prospect of continuing forward. "OH. HELL. NO!" The bedazzled likeness of Beyonce that traveled along for the ride swatted Dan pointedly across the top of his head. "Bitch! You isn't taking my black ass up in there!"
Dan was slightly amused by her Creole accent surfacing through her discontent. No matter how she tried to play it off, Nina D'onne was still a New Orleans girl at her core, despite being a native of the Big Apple for most of her adult life before relocating to Dan's hometown of San Francisco. "This nigga don't do no Stephen King bullshit!" She paused, crossing her arms defensively. "Uh-uh. Nope. You ain't tol' me we goin' to no 'Hangtown.' Dis place make parts of N'oleans feel like a sanctuary. You get me outta dis 'Hills Have Eyes' landscape tout de suite."
Brian grimaced, the words in his mouth leaving a bad taste in his mouth even before they escaped. "As much as I'd hate to admit it, I agree with Nina for once. Nothing good is going to happen here."
Dan shook his head tersely, wiggling an accusing finger at his company. "You two could have stayed home, you know. Stop being such wusses. This place doesn't scare me." Dan began creeping the car forward into the unknown. "Much," he thought, swallowing nervously trying to convince himself.
The bricks growled underneath their tires ominously, their car lending a dot of color to an otherwise bland background. As they made their way to the town square, the lamplighter strode the street on his stilts, lighting the gas street lights as the evening arose. The trio gawked in an amusing mixture of child-like wonder, bewilderment, and horror as their car traveled through what appeared to be a time warp, carrying all back to a time before the Industrial Revolution.
The ivy covered buildings were merely missing a thatch rooftop to complete the illusion of a temporal disturbance. The inhabitants, though still covered in clothes that were so far out of date that they were "vintage" before "vintage" was invented as a style, seemed normal enough for the most part.
"I swear to GAWD," stated Dan in an attempt to ease the mood, "if I see that Kim Davis bitch up in here, I'm going to slap her so hard her head will spin."
"At this point," added Brian, "I'd even welcome that backwards thinking hooker." He paused, adding to the tension. "I bet these people still have a one-room schoolhouse with a single school marm for a teacher."
As they paraded down the road, their stares were returned by an equally appalled and curious lot of locals, gaping at them as if the last time they saw colorful people in their streets, a riot had broken loose. The travelers gulped their gratitude as the yokels kept a respectable distance. Their apprehension was returned in spades as mothers coddled their children, guiding them away from the potential threat. Or were they retreating from the darkness? Dan was unable to tell.
What he did notice was as the light left the sky, a different type of persons began roaming the streets. His guard was up, constantly checking all around in case a hasty getaway was needed. He produced a slip of paper with the words "Bad Omens Booksellers" scribbled neatly in a very feminine, loopy scrawl across it.
He finally steeled his nerves, rolling his window down as he approached an elderly lady loping as best she could down the street, paying no attention to their town's most recent guests. "What the actual hell are you doing?" growled Brian through gritted teeth, his head affixed forward.
Dan sucked through his teeth. "I'm getting directions, of course."
"Dis how it starts," added Nina as she began rifling through her purse in a panic. "You DO know dat the black girl is almost always the first to die in horror movies, right?" She began to mutter under her breath, "Where my gun at?"
"Excuse me, ma'am..." Dan stopped and spun on the back seat, "Wait, what? You have a gun? In my car?"
Apparently the one side of the conversation was all the inspiration the older woman needed to put some steam in her step. Before Dan could stop her, she had painfully sped away, ducking into a structure with a slam of the door behind her.
Dan threw his hands up in defeat as he watched his prospective assistant disappear. "Great. Now I have to find someone else to tell me where this place is." He returned his attention to Nina. "We'll talk about this later."
A young black haired boy strolled down the path, the other locals seemingly giving the grade-schooler a wider berth than normal. Undaunted, Dan peeked his head out of the window. "Excuse me, kiddo..."
Dan wasn't sure if his feminine voice stopped the youth in his tracks, or if it was the fact that someone dared to speak to him that halted his walk. Slowly, almost unnervingly so, the child turned to face the newcomers, the dim light of the gas lights and his mid-length bangs overshadowing his eyes so they couldn't be seen.
Dan carried on dismissively. "Be a sweetie and tell me where the Bad Omens Bookseller is."
A rictus grin spread across the kid's face, sending chills down their collective spines. "Do you have an appointment?" The ominous tone in his voice added to their discomfort.
"Beg your pardon?" Dan seemed genuinely thrown off by the question.
"It's only open by appointment. Do you have one?" The boy's tone sweetened robotically, as if someone had turned his intensity knob back down to a five via remote control.
"I'm here to meet someone," Dan's own voice trailed off as he studied the paper, the tension in his body causing him to forget just why he was in that godforsaken village. A single drop of nervous sweat trickled down his cheek, not going unnoticed by the ward. "A Phinehas Grimm."
The grin retreated from his lips. Now it was the child's turn for unease. Dan could feel the air of retreat build in the boy as he processed the information. He watched as the kid practically sniff the breeze, or perhaps listen to distant commotions with the caution of a fox being hunted. "Check the Owl and Eel. He's sometimes there." The lad pointed deep into the center of the town to a tavern with a dim light flickering beyond the windows.
Dan peered in the direction the youth had indicated. "Are you sure? We're not from around..." His voice trailed off as he searched for the youngster, who had all but disappeared. "...here." Dan wasn't sure even his normally sunny disposition could take a whole lot more of this town. "I guess we're going to the local watering hole."
"Is you trippin', boo?" Nina chimed, her Creole accent calming slightly. "I'd like a cocktail as much as anybody, but I really doubt anyone here knows how to make a good Cosmo."
Dan approached, parking the car close enough to the bar, yet far enough to keep themselves isolated in case of trouble. Stepping out, he bent down, peering inside with a hopeful gaze at his companions. "Coming?"
"Not even at gunpoint. Leave the keys," ordered Brian coldly. "We'll wait here."
Nina just silently turned away, her gaze never once leaving the gathering of three men decorating the walls next to the entrance. "Doze boys gon' be trouble, boo," she stated, her accent returning with a vengeance. "Bes' be careful."
Dan pursed his lips sarcastically. "Mmm-hmm. I'm glad you two have my back." He slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the glass. Straightening himself out to look presentable in his business casual attire and London fog coat, he took in a deep breath to calm his anxiety. "It's just an interview," he mumbled under his breath. "Then we can get out of here."
His unease grew with each step, but his martial arts training taught him how to hide apprehension from any potential threats. He strode up confidently to the entrance, simultaneously ignoring and listening to the growing conversation betwixt the men flanking the doorway, the hairs on the nape of his neck echoing the vibe he got as he closed in.
To Be Fabulously Continued...
February 15th, 2016
"I know that shoot promos aren't a thing in PCW," started the Fabulous one, "so I'll keep this video blog brief. My return to the ring may be a short-lived one. I'm not even sure if this old body can take the action anymore."
"I can't say I miss all of the aches and pains this industry cased me throughout the years. One of the things I did miss are the fans." Dan smiled widely. "I've gotten to be in the ring with some interesting people, a lot of them have gone their own ways. This was going to be a fresh start for me. New faces and new places. Best of all, no traveling."
Dan giggled. "I have to admit it was nice to see a couple of familiar faces with Nathan Saniti, and now Raven Hex coming out of the woodwork, though I have to say Nathan is far different than I remember him."
"I got a wonderful welcome from the Pure Class Faithful, as well as 'Daddy Bear,' Cory 'Jury' Steel on last week's Glam Slam. I think it was then that I felt compelled to step between the ropes and lace up my boots again."
"Speaking of the interesting people I've been privy to, I'm teaming up with another fellow PCW newcomer, the Disco Stud to face a pair who look like their straight out of an old timey Barnum and Bailey's 'strong man' banner, the East Sutcliffe Gentlemen's Club."
"I'm not going to sit here and tell you boys we'll win. I'm just going to do the sportwomanly thing and wish you the best of luck. I don't know what to expect from my partner, or the both of you, for that matter. What you can expect from me is that this girl is going to let her claws come out. I have to give this my all. Sorry boys. It sucks to be you. Toodles, kiddies." Dan wiggles his fingers at the camera before it snaps off.
