Post by Mr. Showtime on Jul 28, 2014 19:55:56 GMT -5
It’s been a long flight from the beaches of New Jersey to the fields of Kentucky. In may not have taken any longer than your normal aeronautical trip south, but the tension filling the cabin was torturous. It didn’t get any better for “Mr. Showtime” Michael Wryght when they landed and his wife, Perfection, continued the same string of questions that he didn’t have answers for earlier in the day.
“I just don’t understand why you can’t take a leave of absence,” she pleads more than asks for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t,” replies Showtime, his tone hiding his frustration, masked in defeat.
“We could go on a tour of Europe, or the jungles of South America,” she suggests unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face. “We’ve never been to the Pacific Islands together.”
“I’ve told you numerous times…”
“Yes, you’ve told me you can’t more times than I can count, but you’ve never said why. I lost you for months now and the moment you return your first trip is to HANGTOWN!!! I know that Billy’s a friend, though I could never keep track of whether you were friends or trying to kill each other. I do know that Grimm is only dangerous to you and if recent events don’t prove that I don’t know what will.”
“I honestly don’t know how to explain it.”
“Don’t get out of the car. It’s as simple as that. After everything that’s happened we can call the executive at Pure Class and say you’re on sabbatical. Just long enough for you to get back to normal.”
“I can’t,” he replies, not much more audible than a whisper.
“If you would only…”
“GOD DAMMIT, ASHLEY!” Showtime bellows, not able to keep his cool. He tries to compose himself and for the first time locks eyes with her, “Listen, me coming back wasn’t the end of the events that were put into motion. It was the exact opposite. There is so much more to this than I even know and going to Hangtown is the beginning of piecing it all together. There is no running from it and this is where I need to be.”
“I just don’t want to lose you again.”
He hangs his shoulders in a full body sigh, and continues, “If it weren’t for you I would probably have murdered someone by now. That night that I saw you in Brick something clicked. You know that I was there to hurt you, and when I saw you there was a change in me. That powder was keeping a part of me hidden and you released it. I don’t know how, but you saved me from myself. Now I have business to attend to here, but I will always come home to you.”
He can tell that she wants those words to help sooth her fears, but they are only words. He tries to give her the old Showtime smile but it’s one of many things that haven’t returned. Showtime bangs on the window dividing the driver and passengers, which prompts the luxury car to pull over.
“You’re not getting out here, are you?” asks Perfection, her eyes widening.
“I am. I don’t want to spook the residents of Hangtown with my car. I think it better if I arrive on foot,” he says before leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek. Without another word he steps out of the car and into the oppressive summer heat of Kentucky. Standing in front of him is the legendary hanging tree from which the town gets its name. It’s quite formidable, and honestly a bit intimidating. He admires the sun setting along the horizon, causing the sky to have a battle of reds and oranges that only a brutally hot summer day can cause. He wipes the sweat from his brow and sits on the ground resting against the damned tree.
“Fricking woman,” he says aloud to no one. The conversation with Perfection has definitely worn him down, and sadly that isn’t the end of his woman problems. Just as he’s trying to piece his life back together he is thrust into the main event at the next Trauma. The luxury of having a low key, easy match is not in the cards. Instead he’s expected to go out there and face off against Eira. The old Showtime would be fired up about this opportunity. Eira is one of the few people in Pure Class history that Showtime’s never been able to overcome. She’s thwarted his attempt in a few high profile matches, something that would generally get his blood boiling.
This time around it is different. There are so many things that he needs to work out and having this high caliber of a match is almost depressing. He’s still worried about losing control and seriously injuring someone. It didn’t matter anymore to him that Eira is a woman. She’s already proven that gender isn’t something that should be held against her, but he isn’t interested in seriously hurting anyone. Though deep down inside him there is something pulling at his will. Something dark and corrupt that makes him want to destroy anyone that crosses his path.
“Don’t move,” says a voice from behind him. He figured there’d be someone in Hangtown that would come after him, but he didn’t figure it’d be so soon. The man’s uneven steps crackle in the dead grass, causing Showtime to worry about this guy’s state of mind.
“I’m not interested in any trouble.”
“Trouble?” replies the man, slurring his speech. “Neither am I, but we can’t let it escape.”
Now Showtime is thoroughly confused and glances over his right shoulder. His eyes fix on the vagabond coming his way, causing him to almost miss the red slug that’s found its way onto his shoulder.
“In’it a beaut?” stumbles the man, landing on his knees right next to Showtime. He has stars in his eyes as he gazes at the gastropod, “A real life Chocolate Arion.”
“A what?”
“What are you going to do with it?” the vagrant asks, ignoring Showtime’s question.
“I wasn’t planning on doing anything with it. You found it, and it seems important so why don’t you just take it.”
“Nah-uh, you’res the one that found it, or maybe it found you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not interested in it so you might as well have it,” replies Showtime, quite curious on the man’s obsession with the red slug. Then his eye brow raises and he asks, “You’re not going to do anything crazy with it, are you? Like some kind of black magic?”
The man gives Showtime a confused look, but then replies, “Of course not, nothing crazy like that. We’s just gunna eat it.” The man snatches the slug off Showtime shoulder and races towards the center of town. Showtime can only shake his head and follow them man at a much slower pace. The town is only about a ten minute walk, but the way the drunkard was dancing through the field he’d be there in four.
It is starting to get late by the time Showtime made it into town. He had to meet the Dillinger brothers at the nicest bar in town, but Billy had omitted the actual name of his destination. He catches sight of the lamp lights aglow, illuminating a series of building, all looking well past their prime. He decides that this isn’t going to be as easy as Sadistic may have thought.
His mind is directed back to Eira, as he sees a woman scowl at him as they cross paths. The two women actually look quite similar, except for a grotesque mole on the upper lip of the Hangtown native. It is an interesting situation that Showtime finds himself, trying to get excited for his match. It’s a main event match, against the former number one contender. It’s the type of match most dream of, just the opportunity to excel ones stature in the industry. He wants to be excited and in the recesses of his mind he might actually be, though on the exterior his emotions are dead.
Part of him just wants to take Perfections advice and leave the business. Part of his is giddy about the opportunity to finally get that win. Part of him salivates for more blood on his hands.
He is brought back to reality as the sound of glass crunches under his feet. He looks at his watch to see that he is already late, causing him to scan the area for the nicest bar. He sees that the sign overhead reads “The Rowdy Dwarf”, but even to Hangtown’s standards this couldn’t be the nicest bar in town. Hell most building at least have their windows intact.
Showtime moves on to the next few corners until he comes upon a group of volatile children. They are speaking a language Showtime’s never heard and against his better judgment he asks, “Are you kids alright?” Slowly as if in a horror movie, each child goes silent and slowly looks his way. Their pupils are as big as saucers, and some are even foaming at the mouth. One of them lunges at Showtime, trying to take a bite out of his shin. They form a group and before Showtime knows it he is being chased down the main street by a pack of rabid youngsters.
He thinks about turning around to fend them off. When he glances back they are in the process of shattering a wooden bench. Their assault on the pew makes distance between them and Showtime, but before long they are on his trail again. In the darkness he can make out two men standing in his way, but the slew of vulgarities from the children keeps him moving. As he approaches the wild manes of red and black become prevalent, and Showtime recognizes the familiar scowls.
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” asks Showtime as he stops running.
“The same thing that wrong with you,” replies Phinehas Grimm.
“Actually, this is my doing,” confesses Sadistic with a devious smile. All three men turn to face the children as they approach, most scatter at the sight of the Dillinger, except the one that tries to make a meal of Showtime’s leg. He is dragged off by a few of his peers, receiving a few bites in return for saving him.
“I’ll never get the hang of this town.”
“That doesn’t matter. We have more important things to discuss,” replies Sadistic, and all three men vanish into the darkness of Hangtown.
“I just don’t understand why you can’t take a leave of absence,” she pleads more than asks for the umpteenth time.
“I can’t,” replies Showtime, his tone hiding his frustration, masked in defeat.
“We could go on a tour of Europe, or the jungles of South America,” she suggests unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face. “We’ve never been to the Pacific Islands together.”
“I’ve told you numerous times…”
“Yes, you’ve told me you can’t more times than I can count, but you’ve never said why. I lost you for months now and the moment you return your first trip is to HANGTOWN!!! I know that Billy’s a friend, though I could never keep track of whether you were friends or trying to kill each other. I do know that Grimm is only dangerous to you and if recent events don’t prove that I don’t know what will.”
“I honestly don’t know how to explain it.”
“Don’t get out of the car. It’s as simple as that. After everything that’s happened we can call the executive at Pure Class and say you’re on sabbatical. Just long enough for you to get back to normal.”
“I can’t,” he replies, not much more audible than a whisper.
“If you would only…”
“GOD DAMMIT, ASHLEY!” Showtime bellows, not able to keep his cool. He tries to compose himself and for the first time locks eyes with her, “Listen, me coming back wasn’t the end of the events that were put into motion. It was the exact opposite. There is so much more to this than I even know and going to Hangtown is the beginning of piecing it all together. There is no running from it and this is where I need to be.”
“I just don’t want to lose you again.”
He hangs his shoulders in a full body sigh, and continues, “If it weren’t for you I would probably have murdered someone by now. That night that I saw you in Brick something clicked. You know that I was there to hurt you, and when I saw you there was a change in me. That powder was keeping a part of me hidden and you released it. I don’t know how, but you saved me from myself. Now I have business to attend to here, but I will always come home to you.”
He can tell that she wants those words to help sooth her fears, but they are only words. He tries to give her the old Showtime smile but it’s one of many things that haven’t returned. Showtime bangs on the window dividing the driver and passengers, which prompts the luxury car to pull over.
“You’re not getting out here, are you?” asks Perfection, her eyes widening.
“I am. I don’t want to spook the residents of Hangtown with my car. I think it better if I arrive on foot,” he says before leaning over and planting a kiss on her cheek. Without another word he steps out of the car and into the oppressive summer heat of Kentucky. Standing in front of him is the legendary hanging tree from which the town gets its name. It’s quite formidable, and honestly a bit intimidating. He admires the sun setting along the horizon, causing the sky to have a battle of reds and oranges that only a brutally hot summer day can cause. He wipes the sweat from his brow and sits on the ground resting against the damned tree.
“Fricking woman,” he says aloud to no one. The conversation with Perfection has definitely worn him down, and sadly that isn’t the end of his woman problems. Just as he’s trying to piece his life back together he is thrust into the main event at the next Trauma. The luxury of having a low key, easy match is not in the cards. Instead he’s expected to go out there and face off against Eira. The old Showtime would be fired up about this opportunity. Eira is one of the few people in Pure Class history that Showtime’s never been able to overcome. She’s thwarted his attempt in a few high profile matches, something that would generally get his blood boiling.
This time around it is different. There are so many things that he needs to work out and having this high caliber of a match is almost depressing. He’s still worried about losing control and seriously injuring someone. It didn’t matter anymore to him that Eira is a woman. She’s already proven that gender isn’t something that should be held against her, but he isn’t interested in seriously hurting anyone. Though deep down inside him there is something pulling at his will. Something dark and corrupt that makes him want to destroy anyone that crosses his path.
“Don’t move,” says a voice from behind him. He figured there’d be someone in Hangtown that would come after him, but he didn’t figure it’d be so soon. The man’s uneven steps crackle in the dead grass, causing Showtime to worry about this guy’s state of mind.
“I’m not interested in any trouble.”
“Trouble?” replies the man, slurring his speech. “Neither am I, but we can’t let it escape.”
Now Showtime is thoroughly confused and glances over his right shoulder. His eyes fix on the vagabond coming his way, causing him to almost miss the red slug that’s found its way onto his shoulder.
“In’it a beaut?” stumbles the man, landing on his knees right next to Showtime. He has stars in his eyes as he gazes at the gastropod, “A real life Chocolate Arion.”
“A what?”
“What are you going to do with it?” the vagrant asks, ignoring Showtime’s question.
“I wasn’t planning on doing anything with it. You found it, and it seems important so why don’t you just take it.”
“Nah-uh, you’res the one that found it, or maybe it found you.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not interested in it so you might as well have it,” replies Showtime, quite curious on the man’s obsession with the red slug. Then his eye brow raises and he asks, “You’re not going to do anything crazy with it, are you? Like some kind of black magic?”
The man gives Showtime a confused look, but then replies, “Of course not, nothing crazy like that. We’s just gunna eat it.” The man snatches the slug off Showtime shoulder and races towards the center of town. Showtime can only shake his head and follow them man at a much slower pace. The town is only about a ten minute walk, but the way the drunkard was dancing through the field he’d be there in four.
It is starting to get late by the time Showtime made it into town. He had to meet the Dillinger brothers at the nicest bar in town, but Billy had omitted the actual name of his destination. He catches sight of the lamp lights aglow, illuminating a series of building, all looking well past their prime. He decides that this isn’t going to be as easy as Sadistic may have thought.
His mind is directed back to Eira, as he sees a woman scowl at him as they cross paths. The two women actually look quite similar, except for a grotesque mole on the upper lip of the Hangtown native. It is an interesting situation that Showtime finds himself, trying to get excited for his match. It’s a main event match, against the former number one contender. It’s the type of match most dream of, just the opportunity to excel ones stature in the industry. He wants to be excited and in the recesses of his mind he might actually be, though on the exterior his emotions are dead.
Part of him just wants to take Perfections advice and leave the business. Part of his is giddy about the opportunity to finally get that win. Part of him salivates for more blood on his hands.
He is brought back to reality as the sound of glass crunches under his feet. He looks at his watch to see that he is already late, causing him to scan the area for the nicest bar. He sees that the sign overhead reads “The Rowdy Dwarf”, but even to Hangtown’s standards this couldn’t be the nicest bar in town. Hell most building at least have their windows intact.
Showtime moves on to the next few corners until he comes upon a group of volatile children. They are speaking a language Showtime’s never heard and against his better judgment he asks, “Are you kids alright?” Slowly as if in a horror movie, each child goes silent and slowly looks his way. Their pupils are as big as saucers, and some are even foaming at the mouth. One of them lunges at Showtime, trying to take a bite out of his shin. They form a group and before Showtime knows it he is being chased down the main street by a pack of rabid youngsters.
He thinks about turning around to fend them off. When he glances back they are in the process of shattering a wooden bench. Their assault on the pew makes distance between them and Showtime, but before long they are on his trail again. In the darkness he can make out two men standing in his way, but the slew of vulgarities from the children keeps him moving. As he approaches the wild manes of red and black become prevalent, and Showtime recognizes the familiar scowls.
“What the hell is wrong with these people?” asks Showtime as he stops running.
“The same thing that wrong with you,” replies Phinehas Grimm.
“Actually, this is my doing,” confesses Sadistic with a devious smile. All three men turn to face the children as they approach, most scatter at the sight of the Dillinger, except the one that tries to make a meal of Showtime’s leg. He is dragged off by a few of his peers, receiving a few bites in return for saving him.
“I’ll never get the hang of this town.”
“That doesn’t matter. We have more important things to discuss,” replies Sadistic, and all three men vanish into the darkness of Hangtown.
