Post by Cory Steel on Apr 11, 2016 11:17:20 GMT -5
BROKEN
It's Decoration Day.
And I've a mind to roll a stone on his grave.
But what would he say.
"Keeping me down, boy, won't keep me away".
"Fuck. Damn. Fuck. Damn.
I wanted to see the lights leave her eyes, I could have. It's been done before. I lost it in just two fucking weeks!"
Cory was in a fit of rage and confusion, glass eyes was a clear indicator that tonight he'd suffered another concussion. He sat rocking back and forth in a daze biting his nails. Dried blood caked his face.
"What do you want?" He coldly snapped as he looked at the floor.
"I am just disgusted with you," a tone less voice whispered from the corner of the office, "Just sick."
"Ah well fuck you buddy! At least I got a one up on you," Cory said with a hint of pride that was meant to cut someone, "I'm above the fucking ground buddy!"
Cory pushed himself up off the exam table, "Look at you Jesse," he was pointing at different parts of his dead brothers rotting body, "Rotting! Falling a part here just nothing man why are you here?"
"I'm wondering the same thing little brother, one moment a embracing light and warmth like no other! The Lord was taking my hand to walk with him into his father's kingdom and I'll be a son of a bitch the next minute I'm jerked back into limbo!"
Judge had seen better days, even for a ghost, as his body was deteriorating in the ground so was his ghost body. Until his unfinished business was done Judge was stuck.
"Can you even hang in there when you're fucking my wife? You know your sister in law? Just two weeks and you sadly embarrass not only yourself but ME! The Underground! You've let someone rob the club! What are you going to do about that?!"
"Listen motherfucker it will be handled," Cory was shaking now, those cold steel eyes were dancing a jittery dance in their sockets, "I got this. I will handle the club. I will handle the upcoming Iceman tournament, I've got plans."
A guttural laugh escapes deep down from Judge's purple colored belly, "You've got this? Hahahahhaaaah, come on brother do you really got this? Here you sit rocking back like a loon and talking to your dead rotting brother. Who has what? Fucking handle your shit so I can move on."
"Cory who are you talking to?" It was Amanda's soft voice from the other side of the door, "You ok in there?"
"I'm fine, ready to go home."
Amanda turned back to the PCW on site doctor, "Will he be ok?"
Doctor Suresh shook his head, "Honestly this is his second concussion in four weeks and as you can see his mental health also is out of sync. I was hoping you could help me talk him into taking a week or two off. Cory needs rest."
"Well let's go talk to him then," Amanda tried to smile but it was leaden with worry.
The two entered the room and a much more relaxed Cory is sitting still on the exam table, "So Doc what is the problem? I mean I've suffered worse."
"Unfortunately Cory I am concerned," Doctor Suresh leaned against the wall looking at his clipboard on Cory, "Your second concussion in at least a month! I can only advise a week off to rest."
Cory looks at Amanda with a dazed free of caring look but his glassy eyes were raging, "Did he just tell me to take time off? Fuck you! With the Icemann tournament just starting?"
"Cory there is still the Last Chance battle royal, right?" Amanda said with a calming smile.
"No! Fuck that I want to take the tournament," Cory jumps up grabbing up his t-shirt having trouble with putting it on, "Do you know what would heal this loss against Kelli Starr? Taking this away from Grimm, Showtime, or just any of them? To win this whole thing and cash it in for a shot at the Underground?"
Cory was shaking his hand frantically pulling out his wallet, "What will it take this time? $100? $400?"
Doctor Suresh looked appalled as Cory began tossing money at him, "No. I don't know what you're talking about and I will not look the other way."
It almost happened but Cory stopped just a inch from his jaw. Suresh flinched back putting his hands in front of his face Cory laughed, "I could have. Dropped you right there, do whatever you fucking want and I'm going to do what I want, stop me or don't. Just remember I know people motherfucker."
Amanda stepped between pushing Cory out of the door, "Just stop Cory and let's go. Now!"
Her shout snapped him back, his face said he'd been somewhere else during his outburst, and he shook his head before leaving. Amanda said she was sorry before rushing to catch up with Cory.
"How are you getting home?" She called but Cory didn't need to say anything as he sat down on his bike putting his helmet on, "Do you need to be driving that? Let me take you home and I'll bring you back tomorrow."
Again he didn't need to answer as he fired the motorcycle up, "I'll be home later," and without another word he hauled ass through the parking lot and hit the hard top wide open.
BIRDS OF A FEATHER
I don't know the name of that boy we tied down
And beat till he just couldn't walk anymore.
"What can I say about Crazy Boy that ain't been said before?" Cory was steady drinking on a glass of whiskey, "What can we do to prove our worth to these people? How much more do we got to lose of our mentality before it breaks?
Can we afford to shed more blood from each other, broken bones, and mental stress? I believe we can buddy. I believe our faithful prefers our bi-weekly blood shed! So at 190 lets give them a show, let us fuck this tournament up, and in the end may the best man win."
Cory shifts in his rolling chair and downs the rest of his booze before pouring two more glasses, "I say let the best man win because hell, we are the best men this company has. It is time we bust free from what we've done, don't you think it's our time Crazy Boy? I saw my loss of the Underground as maybe a sign? Like maybe it is time I move up and on from what I know but the Devil on my shoulder always taunts me: come on you sick fuck! You know you like hurt people make them bleed!
I can not argue with that guy because it is pretty fucking fun! I see no greater way to earn respect than to hurt somebody, makes me wonder with all these mongrels why we are Pure Class? They ain't nothing pure about our class of filth."
The big man was still glassy eyed but he didn't show no outward signs of his concussion but inside he was a rage of confused emotions. Cory felt more dangerous now then he ever had.
"So I make a toast to you Crazy Boy," Cory raises both glasses, "To the tournament, to those who've already lost, and to the winner! It's decoration day Crazy Boy and we've been called the fuck out," Cory downs his glass, "So you wanna be a loser or a fucking winner Crazy Boy? You the papa bear gray beard of PCW or are you the God damn Alpha male?!"
With a cracked laugh Cory downs the other drink.
THE REAL THING PART I
"Fuck damn Terrance," Highman paced his apartment floor steady puffing on a blunt to ease his nerves, "I told you muthaphucka I didn't wanna get mixed up in that club bullshit," he exhaled a cloud of thick smoke just enough to inhale it again through his nose, "My favors are over po po! Twice today they've rode by on their bikes scanning shit like some stalkin' hoodrat!"
Highman peeks through his blinds watching the street below, "I deal drugs to them fool! Not guns and shit! Don't be dumb, Cory spotted you TWICE fool once durig that buzee ass heist and at the arena so any day now that dude gonna kick in our doors," Highman let out a excited pop pop, "Clap us both! Let's just give'em back they shit and apologize."
BAM! The front door exploded open and four bikers rush in, "Ah! Pimp down! Help me!"
Cory was at the front of the mod smacking the phone from Highmans hand which flew across the room into a wall, Highman tries to go for his piece but Cory clocks him on the head with the butt of his pistol, and before Highman could fall Cory caught him by his shirt throwing him with ease into a chair.
"Move along folks nothing to see here," Victor ushered people away from the front door while placing two men out front, "No one gets in."
Victor walks through the rest of the apartment checking the rooms, "Clear."
"Just do it man! I can't handle the stress fool," Highman pleaded with a quiver of his bottom lip, "Not tha face doe, momma wouldn't want to send a ugly child to meet the Lord."
"Shut the fuck up Highman," Cory grunted while picking up a still burning blunt, "Vic the phone. Is that the guy who was with you at the pharmacy?"
"Pharmacy? Jury or Cory, whatever the fuck I don't know what you talkin' fool?" Highman acted surprised, "I don't steal! I don't deal those pills shits either just the finest kush on the east coast my dude!"
Victor hands Cory the phone, "Bullshit! Highman I hate a liar."
"I don't like men who get they as beat by a female," Highman snorted with laughter but it was short as Cory jumps up landing three thumping blows to the nose of Highman, "Fuck you Highman! Fuck you! You just might die now."
With the blood pouring from his broken nose Highman puts a hand up to Cory, "Ok! Ok shit man you broke my nose! It was a joke fool."
"I got your joke right here fucker now I want the other man here in a fucking hour or all your moms is going to bury is a empty casket," Cory was blood red in the face, "Now!"
"No need to call me," someone yelled from the front door but the two bikers refused to let him through, "I'm that mother fucker Cory, so let's talk."
A wicked grin cracks Cory's face and he extends his hand, "Hi, I'm Jury."
