Post by Terrance Brown on Mar 20, 2016 18:40:17 GMT -5
ABANDONED
"I had six older brothers and I was the runt. I don't remember her much, my mom that is, shit I was five when she ran off with her crack dealer left us with our alcoholic father. Don't get me wrong pops took care of us, worked real fucking hard doing crazy jobs, and he drank. My two oldest brothers turned 18 and were gone the same damn day, the rest of us knew Daddy loved us but he loved the beer more and his love was tough."
1995, Greenville, South Carolina.
It was a hot day, the Brown kids were supposed to be at the pool and not sneaking to the corner store. The three bigger brothers kept a brisk pace ahead of Calvin who had to jog a little on loose shoe strings to keep up. They were whispering amongst themselves which meant Calvin was going to be dragged into their trouble.
"Come on Cal you short ass fat boy," shouted the oldest Maurice, "We ain't got all damn day."
"I'm comin' man," Cal huffed. The corner store, Terry Brothers Gas and Grill, came into view.
They all stopped Maurice turned to Calvin, "Listen good idiot, stay out here we will be right back."
"Don't fuck this up Cal," interrupted Darius, "Or we'll all beat yo ass."
Calvin rolled his eyes and leaned against the brick wall as the three others went in. The time ticked by slowly, a officer rolled up, and then it all went down.
Maurice came out first arms packed with chips, then Darius, and when Trevor came out last the shop owner was on his hills.
"Cal take this and run!" Shouted Trevor shoving everything he had to Calvin before sprinting off in the other direction. The shop owner was outside, "Officer shop lifters!"
Calvin was running as fast as he could but the cop was faster, he stopped Calvin by grabbing the back of his shirt, lightly pushed him into a fence, and everything fell.
"Whoa son give it up, I got you," the cop whispered. He didn't seem mad at the time, "Who else was that running?"
"Nobody! I did it on my own," Calvin grunted but when the cop replied he was mad because Calvin was lying, "Calvin Brown you going to take the fall for your brothers?"
Calvin didn't say anything else as he was lead back to the police cruiser and put in the back. He wasn't afraid of the cops, he didn't cry about them, he cried silently because his father was going to tear his ass up.
Later that night....
Calvin laid on his bed in the dark and hungry. He didn't tell on his brothers took his ass whipping like a man and went to bed without dinner. It was about 11 when his dad came in a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other, "You awake Cal?"
Calvin rolled over and sat up, "Yes sir."
His dad came on in flipping on the light and sat on the bed, "Here is a bolonge sandwich," he handed it to Calvin who ate frivolous, "What am I going to do with you boys? You don't listen to shit I say. You think I enjoy being so hard on you? Do you need a more complicated life since your mother left?"
Calvin just ate silently and listened. His father sipped on his beer for a minute before rubbing his dry dirty mechanic hands on Cals hair, "I love you Cal but I ain't raising no little thug."
"He tried to raise us right, but we were just bad ass kids. I grew up a thug. I became a cop."
NEW JOB
"I ain't wrestled in a minute, ya feel me? When I did it was just some indy bullshit, no stories, no heart, grown as men jumpin' around, and hardly got paid. If you need a picture just think of a bunch of idiots gathered in a different high school gymnasium week in and week out! Most fans we ever had was like 90, it was because of a typo they thought Bill Clinton was coming. Now I'm going back, undercover and I'm half excited half dreading it. PCW I am familiar with, born and raised in the same hometown as me, so how couldnt I?"
Early that morning...
"Daddy," Calvin yelled from behind a closed door, "You up?"
The roles had changed for the Brown family. Calvin's two oldest brothers had passed from cancer last year, the third oldest was doing life, and the other three moved across the country looking for stardom in Hollywood but only found drug and drinking problems. Calvin stayed behind with his dad while the old man battled Alzheimer's disease. It hadn't been pretty.
The old man called Calvin Jordan all the time, Jordan had been Daddy's brother who died when they were both real young. The weight he'd gained after quitting drinking had been sucked almost down to the bone.
"Who is it?" His daddy yelled from the other side, "Gad dammit Jordon answer the door!"
Calvin went on in with his heavy heart, "It's Calvin daddy came by to feed you before I report in."
The old man was sitting on the edge of the bed in only his boxer shorts and a tank top. His entire body shook from the arthritis setting in, he chewed his gums, and with cataracts starting on both eyes just blindly scanned the room.
"Thank you Jordan, a brother has to provide for his brother," his dad said with a toothless smile. Calvin smiled and picked his old man up taking him through the house to a set plate of food in the kitchen.
Calvin was the favortie child because the house was a shrine to all of his accomplishments after his troubled youth. High school diploma, wrestling awards, pictures of his academy graduation, and a picture with just the two of them from a year ago.
Calvin sat down beside his dad tucking a napkin under his chin and scoops eggs onto a spoon, "Here Daddy eat up you need that strength."
The old man laughed, "In my day I could take on six of those white boys on my own! Ask Calvin next time you see him he saw it right in the front yard."
"I will ask him Daddy just eat," Calvin smiled shoveling in another spoonful, "Might have some new work today old man. So if I'm gone for a couple days Miss Rotilda will watch you, that ok?"
The old man just nodded.
That Evening
Chief Thomas Dre sat behind his desk, hard in paper work when a hard knocking interrupted him.
"Come in!"
It was his best undercover detective, Calvin Brown, fresh off a case that brought down a small but growing bath salt ring. The town thanked their officers but the real glory should have went to Calvin but with his contacts in the gang world it was denied. Calvin took it with stride however, never asked for nothing more than his paycheck and next assignment.
"So Captain, you needed to see me?" Calvin asked closing the door behind him.
"I do," he turned in his chair and grabbed a thick file nodding to the chair in front of his desk, "Take a seat we got another job for you."
Calvin did as he was told and took the folder opening it just enough to skim the front page, "PCW? Like as in Pure Class Wrestling? Shit chief I don't know if I can do corporate scams and shit."
Dre smiled waving a hand, "The top few pages are your contract obligations for the next year."
Calvin was confused and looked closer at the contents of the folder, "The Real Thing? Holy shit I haven't heard that name in a while!"
"I did a bit of digging and seen you were once a professional wrestler," Dre continued, "Terrance 'The Real Thing' Brown. Which got me interested in a FBI case file from a few years back involving the Saints of Killers MC."
"Vixen Kilshir, FBI agent involved in gathering evidence on a gun smuggling ring. Married the damn guy? David Keith Slam junior, deceased. Unsolved. Vixen Kilshir missing. Suspect Cory Benjamin Steel," Cal was cut off by a new entry, "Hello sir, agent Darthwale."
Dre waved him in, "Just getting down to the deal Darthwale."
"Cory Benjamin Steel has squirmed himself out of every charge," Darthwale continued sitting down crossing his legs smiling, "I want to fuck him up. Stick him right in the fucking neck and fuck that wound hole making his whore of the week watch."
"Damn man got some issues with Steel?" Calvin was flabbergasted by that outburst but looked back at his captain.
"What is the deal?"
Dre cleared his throat, "You got a wrestling background and our suspect is the sadistic leader of a MC who wrestles. Get him to notice you, become a prospect, and start getting involved with as much as possible. You've got a year."
Calvin smiled, tucked the folder under his arm, and was out the door without another word. As he walked he pulled out his cell and called a infromant, "Highman we need to meet," Calvin chuckled, "Nah fool I own you, downtown park in 10."
Later that day....
"Listen Cal these guys ARE killers," it was Highman yelling at Cal as he puffed away on a blunt of loud, "Why you wantin' either of us involved brother?!"
"I ain't telling you shit fool, after this I can handle shit on my own," Calvin flipped through a notepad, "So this is their next target a pharmacy? For who?"
"Shit why I need to tell you sucka?" Highman tried to play off the tough guy thing but a mean muggin look from Calvin suggested otherwise, "Fuck alright, some mod guys from New York, somebody Cory use to work for the Finelle family. They need pills for their clubs."
"Give me a day to get what we need and be at Lazlo Heights tomorrow at 7," Highman wanted argue but Calvin nodded his head and was gone. He had work to do.
RAZOR BLADE?
"Jesus, when I got picked up by PCW I figured I'd be facing some real talent, but Razor Blade? Seriously fool? Your name sounds about as stupid as your face man. The Real Thing Terramce Brown don't like no stupid faced crackers with stupid sounding names!
I don't know about you or the PCW faithful but the winds of change are blowing, a touch of color is about to raise some Hell for all these good ol'boys.
But wait, we don't know shit about you The Real Thing Terrence Brown, what makes you so different? Is it heart? Guts bound for the Halls of Glory? President Obama? Shit, I don't know but it won't be hard to prove! Come Trauma 189 when Razor Blade steps in toe to toe Imma rack his brains with a little sweet foot work and then Imma kick that big ass dumb head around!
2016 the year of the brother.
2016 is the year of The Real Thing....baby."
"I had six older brothers and I was the runt. I don't remember her much, my mom that is, shit I was five when she ran off with her crack dealer left us with our alcoholic father. Don't get me wrong pops took care of us, worked real fucking hard doing crazy jobs, and he drank. My two oldest brothers turned 18 and were gone the same damn day, the rest of us knew Daddy loved us but he loved the beer more and his love was tough."
1995, Greenville, South Carolina.
It was a hot day, the Brown kids were supposed to be at the pool and not sneaking to the corner store. The three bigger brothers kept a brisk pace ahead of Calvin who had to jog a little on loose shoe strings to keep up. They were whispering amongst themselves which meant Calvin was going to be dragged into their trouble.
"Come on Cal you short ass fat boy," shouted the oldest Maurice, "We ain't got all damn day."
"I'm comin' man," Cal huffed. The corner store, Terry Brothers Gas and Grill, came into view.
They all stopped Maurice turned to Calvin, "Listen good idiot, stay out here we will be right back."
"Don't fuck this up Cal," interrupted Darius, "Or we'll all beat yo ass."
Calvin rolled his eyes and leaned against the brick wall as the three others went in. The time ticked by slowly, a officer rolled up, and then it all went down.
Maurice came out first arms packed with chips, then Darius, and when Trevor came out last the shop owner was on his hills.
"Cal take this and run!" Shouted Trevor shoving everything he had to Calvin before sprinting off in the other direction. The shop owner was outside, "Officer shop lifters!"
Calvin was running as fast as he could but the cop was faster, he stopped Calvin by grabbing the back of his shirt, lightly pushed him into a fence, and everything fell.
"Whoa son give it up, I got you," the cop whispered. He didn't seem mad at the time, "Who else was that running?"
"Nobody! I did it on my own," Calvin grunted but when the cop replied he was mad because Calvin was lying, "Calvin Brown you going to take the fall for your brothers?"
Calvin didn't say anything else as he was lead back to the police cruiser and put in the back. He wasn't afraid of the cops, he didn't cry about them, he cried silently because his father was going to tear his ass up.
Later that night....
Calvin laid on his bed in the dark and hungry. He didn't tell on his brothers took his ass whipping like a man and went to bed without dinner. It was about 11 when his dad came in a beer in one hand and a sandwich in the other, "You awake Cal?"
Calvin rolled over and sat up, "Yes sir."
His dad came on in flipping on the light and sat on the bed, "Here is a bolonge sandwich," he handed it to Calvin who ate frivolous, "What am I going to do with you boys? You don't listen to shit I say. You think I enjoy being so hard on you? Do you need a more complicated life since your mother left?"
Calvin just ate silently and listened. His father sipped on his beer for a minute before rubbing his dry dirty mechanic hands on Cals hair, "I love you Cal but I ain't raising no little thug."
"He tried to raise us right, but we were just bad ass kids. I grew up a thug. I became a cop."
NEW JOB
"I ain't wrestled in a minute, ya feel me? When I did it was just some indy bullshit, no stories, no heart, grown as men jumpin' around, and hardly got paid. If you need a picture just think of a bunch of idiots gathered in a different high school gymnasium week in and week out! Most fans we ever had was like 90, it was because of a typo they thought Bill Clinton was coming. Now I'm going back, undercover and I'm half excited half dreading it. PCW I am familiar with, born and raised in the same hometown as me, so how couldnt I?"
Early that morning...
"Daddy," Calvin yelled from behind a closed door, "You up?"
The roles had changed for the Brown family. Calvin's two oldest brothers had passed from cancer last year, the third oldest was doing life, and the other three moved across the country looking for stardom in Hollywood but only found drug and drinking problems. Calvin stayed behind with his dad while the old man battled Alzheimer's disease. It hadn't been pretty.
The old man called Calvin Jordan all the time, Jordan had been Daddy's brother who died when they were both real young. The weight he'd gained after quitting drinking had been sucked almost down to the bone.
"Who is it?" His daddy yelled from the other side, "Gad dammit Jordon answer the door!"
Calvin went on in with his heavy heart, "It's Calvin daddy came by to feed you before I report in."
The old man was sitting on the edge of the bed in only his boxer shorts and a tank top. His entire body shook from the arthritis setting in, he chewed his gums, and with cataracts starting on both eyes just blindly scanned the room.
"Thank you Jordan, a brother has to provide for his brother," his dad said with a toothless smile. Calvin smiled and picked his old man up taking him through the house to a set plate of food in the kitchen.
Calvin was the favortie child because the house was a shrine to all of his accomplishments after his troubled youth. High school diploma, wrestling awards, pictures of his academy graduation, and a picture with just the two of them from a year ago.
Calvin sat down beside his dad tucking a napkin under his chin and scoops eggs onto a spoon, "Here Daddy eat up you need that strength."
The old man laughed, "In my day I could take on six of those white boys on my own! Ask Calvin next time you see him he saw it right in the front yard."
"I will ask him Daddy just eat," Calvin smiled shoveling in another spoonful, "Might have some new work today old man. So if I'm gone for a couple days Miss Rotilda will watch you, that ok?"
The old man just nodded.
That Evening
Chief Thomas Dre sat behind his desk, hard in paper work when a hard knocking interrupted him.
"Come in!"
It was his best undercover detective, Calvin Brown, fresh off a case that brought down a small but growing bath salt ring. The town thanked their officers but the real glory should have went to Calvin but with his contacts in the gang world it was denied. Calvin took it with stride however, never asked for nothing more than his paycheck and next assignment.
"So Captain, you needed to see me?" Calvin asked closing the door behind him.
"I do," he turned in his chair and grabbed a thick file nodding to the chair in front of his desk, "Take a seat we got another job for you."
Calvin did as he was told and took the folder opening it just enough to skim the front page, "PCW? Like as in Pure Class Wrestling? Shit chief I don't know if I can do corporate scams and shit."
Dre smiled waving a hand, "The top few pages are your contract obligations for the next year."
Calvin was confused and looked closer at the contents of the folder, "The Real Thing? Holy shit I haven't heard that name in a while!"
"I did a bit of digging and seen you were once a professional wrestler," Dre continued, "Terrance 'The Real Thing' Brown. Which got me interested in a FBI case file from a few years back involving the Saints of Killers MC."
"Vixen Kilshir, FBI agent involved in gathering evidence on a gun smuggling ring. Married the damn guy? David Keith Slam junior, deceased. Unsolved. Vixen Kilshir missing. Suspect Cory Benjamin Steel," Cal was cut off by a new entry, "Hello sir, agent Darthwale."
Dre waved him in, "Just getting down to the deal Darthwale."
"Cory Benjamin Steel has squirmed himself out of every charge," Darthwale continued sitting down crossing his legs smiling, "I want to fuck him up. Stick him right in the fucking neck and fuck that wound hole making his whore of the week watch."
"Damn man got some issues with Steel?" Calvin was flabbergasted by that outburst but looked back at his captain.
"What is the deal?"
Dre cleared his throat, "You got a wrestling background and our suspect is the sadistic leader of a MC who wrestles. Get him to notice you, become a prospect, and start getting involved with as much as possible. You've got a year."
Calvin smiled, tucked the folder under his arm, and was out the door without another word. As he walked he pulled out his cell and called a infromant, "Highman we need to meet," Calvin chuckled, "Nah fool I own you, downtown park in 10."
Later that day....
"Listen Cal these guys ARE killers," it was Highman yelling at Cal as he puffed away on a blunt of loud, "Why you wantin' either of us involved brother?!"
"I ain't telling you shit fool, after this I can handle shit on my own," Calvin flipped through a notepad, "So this is their next target a pharmacy? For who?"
"Shit why I need to tell you sucka?" Highman tried to play off the tough guy thing but a mean muggin look from Calvin suggested otherwise, "Fuck alright, some mod guys from New York, somebody Cory use to work for the Finelle family. They need pills for their clubs."
"Give me a day to get what we need and be at Lazlo Heights tomorrow at 7," Highman wanted argue but Calvin nodded his head and was gone. He had work to do.
RAZOR BLADE?
"Jesus, when I got picked up by PCW I figured I'd be facing some real talent, but Razor Blade? Seriously fool? Your name sounds about as stupid as your face man. The Real Thing Terramce Brown don't like no stupid faced crackers with stupid sounding names!
I don't know about you or the PCW faithful but the winds of change are blowing, a touch of color is about to raise some Hell for all these good ol'boys.
But wait, we don't know shit about you The Real Thing Terrence Brown, what makes you so different? Is it heart? Guts bound for the Halls of Glory? President Obama? Shit, I don't know but it won't be hard to prove! Come Trauma 189 when Razor Blade steps in toe to toe Imma rack his brains with a little sweet foot work and then Imma kick that big ass dumb head around!
2016 the year of the brother.
2016 is the year of The Real Thing....baby."
