Post by Winston Wilson on Nov 19, 2018 5:03:50 GMT -5
Acarius Nightclub
200 North Pleasantburg Drive,Greenville SC 12:30 am
The dead of night in downtown Greenville is broken by the grumbling burble of a loud turbo V8 engine that shatters the silence like a roaring beast.
People lining up outside peer down the street to see what is making that insane noise and mere seconds later their question is answered in the form of a large black Mercedes Benz G63 AMG tearing down the street with the windows down and the system booming so loud it could probably be heard in China.
The big SUV comes to a halt just meters from the club and the noises stop. Stepping out from the car in a dapper purple velvet suit a fresh and ready to party Winston Willson closes the door and pushes the button the car locking with a sietes of bleeps.
He confidently swaggers across the street and smiles at the passers by who are lined up. The men shoot him dirty looks and he doesn't care. The ladies smile coyly and blush as he walks on. He strides to the front of the line where he is greeted by two NFL linebacker size security guards who greet him warmly with smiles and fist bumps
"Winston my man! Hey it's good to see ya. It's been a while! How've you been?"
The guard whose hulking frame though huge is still dwarfed by Wilson is a tall black man with a curly mess of black hair and a serious 5 o'clock shadow. His uniform like his partners is a suit and tie with a security badge on a lanyard that hands around his neck
"I've been good Shawn. Life is good I have found a new job here in Greenville and have also moved here."
Shawn nods and smiles.
"Good for you man. Yeah I saw you on tv. I watch PCW Trauma, it's a great show. I've been a long time fan. That match you were in last week was a slobberknocker." Shawn says
"Yeah it sure was. A count out wasn't the way I wanted to win, but a wins a win." Winston replies
"Anyway I'm gonna head inside and enjoy myself"
Shawn gives him another fist bump and opens the door for Winston who steps inside and grins. The club is lit up with multi colour lights and the music is thumping just the way he likes it. As he comes in a staff member greets him
"Ah Mr Wilson your back so good to see you. We have your table reserved just as you asked and have a bevy of beautiful women who want to meet you. The Cristal is already on ice and the caviar is top shelf."
"Thank you my man"
He shakes the guys hand and when he pulls away a crisp $100 bill is scrunched up in it.
Moving through the sea of people who roam the dance floor he comes to his VIP table that has two security guards and is roped off with a velvet rope between two golden stands.
The guard removes the rope allowing Winston to pass before replacing it back to its original position. Sitting down between the two beautiful ladies he picks up the glasses and pours himself and his guests some drinks.
"Ah this is the life." He sighs contentedly sippng his drink and watching the goings on in the club from his table he can see everything. Suddenly giggling can be heard from one of the ladies who has her phone in her hand and from it comes audio of Razor Blades latest "Interview" if you want to call it that....
Winston looks at the phone intently and listens carefully as Razor barks his baseless threats among the barely coherent babble that runs from his pea brain to his big mouth.
He gives it a minute after trying.to wrap his head around the parts that actually make sense.
He grabs his phone and points it at himself presses record and stares a hole through it.
"Razor is that really the best you can come up with? What a sad pathetic joke you are.
I think it's high time someone gave you a big dose of reality young man.
You are not a wrestler you are a delusional wannabe. You are nothing more than the company's favourite punching bag, The few successes you have had have been sheer luck and nothing else.
You say you can kick MY ass in three minutes or less? Have you seen what you are up against? I'm a 6"4 465 lb juggernaut that is going to run right over your dumb ass and send you packing back to working at Walmart.
I don't care what your herratige is Samoan Chinese American Indian. It's of no consequence. I have little time for jobbers like you so I hope you've got something else planned for the night cos yours is ending early not mine.
I'm gonna eat PCW's biggest turkey and wash down my win with a few beers.
Happy Thanksgiving you shitstain!
He closes the phone and smiles as continues to party the night away.
200 North Pleasantburg Drive,Greenville SC 12:30 am
The dead of night in downtown Greenville is broken by the grumbling burble of a loud turbo V8 engine that shatters the silence like a roaring beast.
People lining up outside peer down the street to see what is making that insane noise and mere seconds later their question is answered in the form of a large black Mercedes Benz G63 AMG tearing down the street with the windows down and the system booming so loud it could probably be heard in China.
The big SUV comes to a halt just meters from the club and the noises stop. Stepping out from the car in a dapper purple velvet suit a fresh and ready to party Winston Willson closes the door and pushes the button the car locking with a sietes of bleeps.
He confidently swaggers across the street and smiles at the passers by who are lined up. The men shoot him dirty looks and he doesn't care. The ladies smile coyly and blush as he walks on. He strides to the front of the line where he is greeted by two NFL linebacker size security guards who greet him warmly with smiles and fist bumps
"Winston my man! Hey it's good to see ya. It's been a while! How've you been?"
The guard whose hulking frame though huge is still dwarfed by Wilson is a tall black man with a curly mess of black hair and a serious 5 o'clock shadow. His uniform like his partners is a suit and tie with a security badge on a lanyard that hands around his neck
"I've been good Shawn. Life is good I have found a new job here in Greenville and have also moved here."
Shawn nods and smiles.
"Good for you man. Yeah I saw you on tv. I watch PCW Trauma, it's a great show. I've been a long time fan. That match you were in last week was a slobberknocker." Shawn says
"Yeah it sure was. A count out wasn't the way I wanted to win, but a wins a win." Winston replies
"Anyway I'm gonna head inside and enjoy myself"
Shawn gives him another fist bump and opens the door for Winston who steps inside and grins. The club is lit up with multi colour lights and the music is thumping just the way he likes it. As he comes in a staff member greets him
"Ah Mr Wilson your back so good to see you. We have your table reserved just as you asked and have a bevy of beautiful women who want to meet you. The Cristal is already on ice and the caviar is top shelf."
"Thank you my man"
He shakes the guys hand and when he pulls away a crisp $100 bill is scrunched up in it.
Moving through the sea of people who roam the dance floor he comes to his VIP table that has two security guards and is roped off with a velvet rope between two golden stands.
The guard removes the rope allowing Winston to pass before replacing it back to its original position. Sitting down between the two beautiful ladies he picks up the glasses and pours himself and his guests some drinks.
"Ah this is the life." He sighs contentedly sippng his drink and watching the goings on in the club from his table he can see everything. Suddenly giggling can be heard from one of the ladies who has her phone in her hand and from it comes audio of Razor Blades latest "Interview" if you want to call it that....
Winston looks at the phone intently and listens carefully as Razor barks his baseless threats among the barely coherent babble that runs from his pea brain to his big mouth.
He gives it a minute after trying.to wrap his head around the parts that actually make sense.
He grabs his phone and points it at himself presses record and stares a hole through it.
"Razor is that really the best you can come up with? What a sad pathetic joke you are.
I think it's high time someone gave you a big dose of reality young man.
You are not a wrestler you are a delusional wannabe. You are nothing more than the company's favourite punching bag, The few successes you have had have been sheer luck and nothing else.
You say you can kick MY ass in three minutes or less? Have you seen what you are up against? I'm a 6"4 465 lb juggernaut that is going to run right over your dumb ass and send you packing back to working at Walmart.
I don't care what your herratige is Samoan Chinese American Indian. It's of no consequence. I have little time for jobbers like you so I hope you've got something else planned for the night cos yours is ending early not mine.
I'm gonna eat PCW's biggest turkey and wash down my win with a few beers.
Happy Thanksgiving you shitstain!
He closes the phone and smiles as continues to party the night away.