Post by Holden Ross on Aug 13, 2018 19:31:44 GMT -5
I'm wrestling Steve the fucking Pirate?!
*Holden's fist slams down on the cracked dash of the seventy-four Plymouth Duster as it screams down the road. The engine rumbles under the hood and the speedometer rests at eighty-five. Behind the wheel is a balding, pudgy man of about forty-five; salt and pepper hair and handlebar moustache and horn rimmed glasses. The classic Doors hit, “The End,” is quietly playing through the Bose speakers, turned just loud enough to be heard.*
Steve the fuckin Pirate! This is some bullshit Ernie…
*Ernst “Ernie” Stevens is a long time friend of the family on his mothers side. Ernie is one of the top mechanics on the east coast. The two are currently en route to pick up a new ride for Holden; a primered forty-nine Ford truck from a connection of Ernie’s. It’s a steal at just under seven grand, the engine and tranny have been gone through, rebuilt, and machined to perfection. Ernie takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at his passenger.*
Ernie: I thought that guy was an actor….
*Holden looks over at his friend, a little confused.*
The Hell? Who?
Ernie: Steve…
Steve who?
Ernie: The pirate….his name is Alan something-or-other….
*Holden stares silently at Ernie while the car barrels through the night.*
The guy I'm facing looks like a pirate….he's not actually that guy from the movie….
*Ernie waves him off like “no shit, Sherlock.” The rest of the ride is in silence, both men lost in thought, stoned, and awash in the sounds of Jim Morrison and the Doors. Just under an hour later and the transaction is complete and now Ernie follows Holden back to Greenville. Once back in town, he parks his newly acquired ride in front of his room at the “Shady Pine Motel.” The owners and a few other permanent residents enjoy having the P.C.W. talent and, believe it or not, are huge wrestling fans. Out of the seven of them, a “little person” staying in room two, is the most star struck of the bunch. His name is Tommy and he greets Holden with a long, high pitched whistle.*
Tommy: That’s one badass fuckin ride right dere! Damn boy, how much you git this'n for?
Not as cheap as your mom, sadly….
*The group gathered erupts into a chorus of laughter at the expense of little Tommy's mother. Holden tosses him a joint before slipping into his room where Kinsey waits with open arms….and legs….*
Sunday August twelfth. Eight-o-eight p.m.
*The scene opens on Holden, sitting on the open tailgate of his newly acquired truck alongside Kinsey. They both sport jeans and matching black and white Cons and while he also wears a t-shirt with the Black Flag logo she sports a black bikini top with Marijuana leaves.*
This week, after having put on one of the best matches of the year against that worthless slug, Dom, I'm saddled with a match against a man who chooses, willingly, to dress as a pirate. Lets not forget he is literally half my size. So I go from putting on a near five star match against that lug to facing overglorified talent enhancement.
*She leans over and quickly whispers something in his ear before kissing him on the cheek and skipping off camera.*
I don’t gotta lot to say, really. What can I say? I'm facing a Vegas street performer reject in one of the pay per views opening matches. Management didn’t like me almost beating their Golden Boy and screwing up title plans for him and Matthews. I haven't forgotten and I wont anytime soon. I'm coming for that belt after I make this pirate tap out in the Rack. You can count on that…..
*Holden's muse returns and offers him a lit blunt. As the camera fades to black, Holden takes a long pull from it before kissing her on the forehead.*
*Holden's fist slams down on the cracked dash of the seventy-four Plymouth Duster as it screams down the road. The engine rumbles under the hood and the speedometer rests at eighty-five. Behind the wheel is a balding, pudgy man of about forty-five; salt and pepper hair and handlebar moustache and horn rimmed glasses. The classic Doors hit, “The End,” is quietly playing through the Bose speakers, turned just loud enough to be heard.*
Steve the fuckin Pirate! This is some bullshit Ernie…
*Ernst “Ernie” Stevens is a long time friend of the family on his mothers side. Ernie is one of the top mechanics on the east coast. The two are currently en route to pick up a new ride for Holden; a primered forty-nine Ford truck from a connection of Ernie’s. It’s a steal at just under seven grand, the engine and tranny have been gone through, rebuilt, and machined to perfection. Ernie takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance over at his passenger.*
Ernie: I thought that guy was an actor….
*Holden looks over at his friend, a little confused.*
The Hell? Who?
Ernie: Steve…
Steve who?
Ernie: The pirate….his name is Alan something-or-other….
*Holden stares silently at Ernie while the car barrels through the night.*
The guy I'm facing looks like a pirate….he's not actually that guy from the movie….
*Ernie waves him off like “no shit, Sherlock.” The rest of the ride is in silence, both men lost in thought, stoned, and awash in the sounds of Jim Morrison and the Doors. Just under an hour later and the transaction is complete and now Ernie follows Holden back to Greenville. Once back in town, he parks his newly acquired ride in front of his room at the “Shady Pine Motel.” The owners and a few other permanent residents enjoy having the P.C.W. talent and, believe it or not, are huge wrestling fans. Out of the seven of them, a “little person” staying in room two, is the most star struck of the bunch. His name is Tommy and he greets Holden with a long, high pitched whistle.*
Tommy: That’s one badass fuckin ride right dere! Damn boy, how much you git this'n for?
Not as cheap as your mom, sadly….
*The group gathered erupts into a chorus of laughter at the expense of little Tommy's mother. Holden tosses him a joint before slipping into his room where Kinsey waits with open arms….and legs….*
Sunday August twelfth. Eight-o-eight p.m.
*The scene opens on Holden, sitting on the open tailgate of his newly acquired truck alongside Kinsey. They both sport jeans and matching black and white Cons and while he also wears a t-shirt with the Black Flag logo she sports a black bikini top with Marijuana leaves.*
This week, after having put on one of the best matches of the year against that worthless slug, Dom, I'm saddled with a match against a man who chooses, willingly, to dress as a pirate. Lets not forget he is literally half my size. So I go from putting on a near five star match against that lug to facing overglorified talent enhancement.
*She leans over and quickly whispers something in his ear before kissing him on the cheek and skipping off camera.*
I don’t gotta lot to say, really. What can I say? I'm facing a Vegas street performer reject in one of the pay per views opening matches. Management didn’t like me almost beating their Golden Boy and screwing up title plans for him and Matthews. I haven't forgotten and I wont anytime soon. I'm coming for that belt after I make this pirate tap out in the Rack. You can count on that…..
*Holden's muse returns and offers him a lit blunt. As the camera fades to black, Holden takes a long pull from it before kissing her on the forehead.*