Post by Sadistic on Aug 7, 2014 0:38:19 GMT -5
Welcome to the inner-workings of my mind.
Hangtown was a decent, honest town. A town inhabited by simple, hard-working folk. Save the random drunken skirmish at the Rowdy Dwarf and the occasional broken window or two, the citizens walked a strict line: Straight and narrow. For you never knew when they'd be watching. As the old rhyme went:
Behind the clouds, to the East,
Under his green, wandering eyes.
Lurked the red-maned watchful beast,
You'd never realize.
Behind the clouds, to the South,
Under his blue, watchful eyes.
His mane of black and twisted mouth,
Hangtown's stormmy spies.
The cattle could always use a good herding, courtesy the Dillinger Brothers. See also: Hangtown Horrors. See also: The Brothers Gruesome.
In William's absence, his extracurricular taxidermy and wax museum venture had maintained thanks largely in part to that little bastard – and he IS a little bastard – Jeremy Bagwell. Once Billy's whipping boy, always Billy's whipping boy. “The Horrors of Hangtown” was what he'd christened the wax museum, namely for the lifelike depictions found inside. And just for convenience's sake, Sadistic had mounted his taxidermy shop off the back of the museum.
This just in: Taxidermy, Greek for “arrangement of the skin,” is the art of preparing, stuffing, and mounting the skins of animals, especially vertebrates, for display. All animals.
For healthier looking hair, avoid using products that contain alcohol as this will dry the hair. Using a blow dryer on hair will damage it, making it weak and brittle. When grooming, use a brush made from natural animal hairs; plastic combs and brushes can create static electricity which will further damage the follicles. When cleaning, only wash with warm water and cleanse gently; hair is most vulnerable when it's wet. Leave-in conditioners are a must! Certain waxes have been known to hold hairstyles intact for weeks at a time.
It hadn't taken Sadistic long to fall back into the full swing of Hangtown's hustle and bustle. Piloting his business, guzzling rum, wailing on opponents, and charging young Bagwell with pointless manual labor. Full swing, indeed.
And speaking of the bastard Bagwell, he'd done quite the job keeping “The Horrors of Hangtown” exhibit up and running. In fact, it had become something of an attraction amongst the population; partially due to its stunningly realistic wax exhibits and partially because pocket change was enough for admission. Although young Bagwell did find it odd that the same chemical concoctions Sadistic used to condition his stuffed deer, bears, and what-have-yous also worked amazingly well on his wax statues...
And speaking of bears, a pair of stumbling drunk woodsmen discovered a dead bear, crudely skinned, not too far outside of Hangtown. Colonel Mustard thinks that a bear was killed by THE BEAR, with a splitting maul, in the forest. Taking on a grown bear was enough to impress the Phenom, even if Steel came out one nipple shy of a pair. While the bear pelt would have gelled nicely on the hardwood of the House of Grimm, the entire man versus beast battle was a train wreck at best.
And speaking of train wrecks, what about that tag team match at Trauma 158? The one that ended with Nathan Saniti, Mr. Mischief, turned upside down and inside out. Although not quite so twisted and bloody, the grand return of the Hangtown Horrors was a roaring triumph. The Black Hand setting the wheels in motion. Unlike THE BEAR, Saniti and Starr left with all nipples intact. At least Murdoc hadn't beaten them senseless with a thick steel chain...
And speaking of Murdoc...
Today's forecast: Jealousy with a hint of frustration.
Basic skin care is essential! When cleansing the face, use a cold towel and apply cleanser in circular, upward motions. Without moisture, the skin will dry and develop wrinkles. Moisturizers are necessary to keep skin looking young, healthy and...alive. Moisturizing compounds capitalizing on the wonders of formaldehyde can help skin maintain its glowing sheen long after the soul has left the body.
William Dillinger remembered Marcus Murdoc. Just Murdoc, now. Not many ventured into the Dillingers' neck of the Pure Class Wrestling history book, but Murdoc breathed that same rare air. What you don't understand you can make mean anything. Except Sadistic knew Murdoc.
”Hush, my sweet, sweet children.”
Sadistic knew that Murdoc now hid behind a veil; a wretched face behind a wretched mask. Sadistic knew that along with his younger brother, Murdoc was considered the most feared and destructive force to grace the Pure Class Arena. And Sadistic also knew that while he and Eira were about to share their most special moment, it was Murdoc that ruined everything!
”There, there, my precious dolls...”
Sadistic had fantasized about the things he'd do to that little wench. His mouth was literally watering, saliva wetting his flowing black beard as he prepared to have his way with Murdoc's trollop. Eira and Sadistic. All alone. The flowing hair. That flawless skin! His thoughts had bordered on perverse. Oh, what he'd have given to take a little out of her cheek. A slight nibble of the ear? Maybe chomp off that nose! But Murdoc ruined everything!
”Ooh...look at those abs.”
Their card had been left. Their target acquired. Things couldn't have played out better. Grimm taking on Eira. Showtime taking on that asshole Whitey Ford. It was almost as if the Black Hand had wanted those matches. Almost as if...they'd planned it. The Black Hand's will would be done.
Inside the museum, William admired his “Horrors of Hangtown.” His precious creatures gazing back at him with those all-too-real eyes. They were all there, just as he'd left them. Antoine McDouglas, sitting in a very nondescript chair. Bobby Smith, sans nose. Hell, even “Heavy Metal” Jacob Roth was there in all his glory, his fist thrusting a replica International Championship into the air. His abs rippling in the artificial light. After their unfortunate injuries and subsequent departures from Pure Class Wrestling, these men had seemingly vanished into thin air. But here...here in William's wax museum, their legacies would live on forever. Their spitting images would still be appreciated by the masses. Stained oak pedestals with custom engraved nameplates held their eternal places in history, much like Murdoc's North American Championship held his...
”That luscious tan...those ruby lips...and hair color so natural, only your Undertaker knows for sure.” Sadistic cackled to himself as he finished feather dusting his prized possessions.
Tucking the duster into the back of his waistband, the Prince of Lies began whistling a familiar gospel tune to himself as he turned toward the exit. Pausing at the door with his finger on the light switch, Sadistic's anti-freeze green eyes found their way to the empty wooden pedestal at his left. Quickly pulling the duster from the back of his trousers, he gave the nameplate a quick brush. Taking a step back, the light gleamed off of a single word: MURDOC.
”Sooner or later, God'll cut you down.” A Prophet had never spoken truer words.
Nex Addo
Hangtown was a decent, honest town. A town inhabited by simple, hard-working folk. Save the random drunken skirmish at the Rowdy Dwarf and the occasional broken window or two, the citizens walked a strict line: Straight and narrow. For you never knew when they'd be watching. As the old rhyme went:
Behind the clouds, to the East,
Under his green, wandering eyes.
Lurked the red-maned watchful beast,
You'd never realize.
Behind the clouds, to the South,
Under his blue, watchful eyes.
His mane of black and twisted mouth,
Hangtown's stormmy spies.
The cattle could always use a good herding, courtesy the Dillinger Brothers. See also: Hangtown Horrors. See also: The Brothers Gruesome.
In William's absence, his extracurricular taxidermy and wax museum venture had maintained thanks largely in part to that little bastard – and he IS a little bastard – Jeremy Bagwell. Once Billy's whipping boy, always Billy's whipping boy. “The Horrors of Hangtown” was what he'd christened the wax museum, namely for the lifelike depictions found inside. And just for convenience's sake, Sadistic had mounted his taxidermy shop off the back of the museum.
This just in: Taxidermy, Greek for “arrangement of the skin,” is the art of preparing, stuffing, and mounting the skins of animals, especially vertebrates, for display. All animals.
For healthier looking hair, avoid using products that contain alcohol as this will dry the hair. Using a blow dryer on hair will damage it, making it weak and brittle. When grooming, use a brush made from natural animal hairs; plastic combs and brushes can create static electricity which will further damage the follicles. When cleaning, only wash with warm water and cleanse gently; hair is most vulnerable when it's wet. Leave-in conditioners are a must! Certain waxes have been known to hold hairstyles intact for weeks at a time.
It hadn't taken Sadistic long to fall back into the full swing of Hangtown's hustle and bustle. Piloting his business, guzzling rum, wailing on opponents, and charging young Bagwell with pointless manual labor. Full swing, indeed.
And speaking of the bastard Bagwell, he'd done quite the job keeping “The Horrors of Hangtown” exhibit up and running. In fact, it had become something of an attraction amongst the population; partially due to its stunningly realistic wax exhibits and partially because pocket change was enough for admission. Although young Bagwell did find it odd that the same chemical concoctions Sadistic used to condition his stuffed deer, bears, and what-have-yous also worked amazingly well on his wax statues...
And speaking of bears, a pair of stumbling drunk woodsmen discovered a dead bear, crudely skinned, not too far outside of Hangtown. Colonel Mustard thinks that a bear was killed by THE BEAR, with a splitting maul, in the forest. Taking on a grown bear was enough to impress the Phenom, even if Steel came out one nipple shy of a pair. While the bear pelt would have gelled nicely on the hardwood of the House of Grimm, the entire man versus beast battle was a train wreck at best.
And speaking of train wrecks, what about that tag team match at Trauma 158? The one that ended with Nathan Saniti, Mr. Mischief, turned upside down and inside out. Although not quite so twisted and bloody, the grand return of the Hangtown Horrors was a roaring triumph. The Black Hand setting the wheels in motion. Unlike THE BEAR, Saniti and Starr left with all nipples intact. At least Murdoc hadn't beaten them senseless with a thick steel chain...
And speaking of Murdoc...
Today's forecast: Jealousy with a hint of frustration.
Basic skin care is essential! When cleansing the face, use a cold towel and apply cleanser in circular, upward motions. Without moisture, the skin will dry and develop wrinkles. Moisturizers are necessary to keep skin looking young, healthy and...alive. Moisturizing compounds capitalizing on the wonders of formaldehyde can help skin maintain its glowing sheen long after the soul has left the body.
William Dillinger remembered Marcus Murdoc. Just Murdoc, now. Not many ventured into the Dillingers' neck of the Pure Class Wrestling history book, but Murdoc breathed that same rare air. What you don't understand you can make mean anything. Except Sadistic knew Murdoc.
”Hush, my sweet, sweet children.”
Sadistic knew that Murdoc now hid behind a veil; a wretched face behind a wretched mask. Sadistic knew that along with his younger brother, Murdoc was considered the most feared and destructive force to grace the Pure Class Arena. And Sadistic also knew that while he and Eira were about to share their most special moment, it was Murdoc that ruined everything!
”There, there, my precious dolls...”
Sadistic had fantasized about the things he'd do to that little wench. His mouth was literally watering, saliva wetting his flowing black beard as he prepared to have his way with Murdoc's trollop. Eira and Sadistic. All alone. The flowing hair. That flawless skin! His thoughts had bordered on perverse. Oh, what he'd have given to take a little out of her cheek. A slight nibble of the ear? Maybe chomp off that nose! But Murdoc ruined everything!
”Ooh...look at those abs.”
Their card had been left. Their target acquired. Things couldn't have played out better. Grimm taking on Eira. Showtime taking on that asshole Whitey Ford. It was almost as if the Black Hand had wanted those matches. Almost as if...they'd planned it. The Black Hand's will would be done.
Inside the museum, William admired his “Horrors of Hangtown.” His precious creatures gazing back at him with those all-too-real eyes. They were all there, just as he'd left them. Antoine McDouglas, sitting in a very nondescript chair. Bobby Smith, sans nose. Hell, even “Heavy Metal” Jacob Roth was there in all his glory, his fist thrusting a replica International Championship into the air. His abs rippling in the artificial light. After their unfortunate injuries and subsequent departures from Pure Class Wrestling, these men had seemingly vanished into thin air. But here...here in William's wax museum, their legacies would live on forever. Their spitting images would still be appreciated by the masses. Stained oak pedestals with custom engraved nameplates held their eternal places in history, much like Murdoc's North American Championship held his...
”That luscious tan...those ruby lips...and hair color so natural, only your Undertaker knows for sure.” Sadistic cackled to himself as he finished feather dusting his prized possessions.
Tucking the duster into the back of his waistband, the Prince of Lies began whistling a familiar gospel tune to himself as he turned toward the exit. Pausing at the door with his finger on the light switch, Sadistic's anti-freeze green eyes found their way to the empty wooden pedestal at his left. Quickly pulling the duster from the back of his trousers, he gave the nameplate a quick brush. Taking a step back, the light gleamed off of a single word: MURDOC.
”Sooner or later, God'll cut you down.” A Prophet had never spoken truer words.
Nex Addo
