Post by Bubba on Oct 16, 2015 19:03:56 GMT -5
“New blood…”
**shing**
The unmistakable rasp of metal on stone rings out through the thick almost palpable darkness, penetrated only by an errant spark falling slowly to the ground.
“Old blood…”
**shing**
Again the metallic sound rings clear in the stifling air like a piece of tinfoil caught on a dental filling. This time no sparks fall as if to acknowledge the darkness has won.
“Blood is blood…”
**click**
Suddenly white light explodes in a small room the bare white bulb swings from a 2 foot cord suspended in the middle of the room. Shadows dip and sway in time with the light chasing it back and forth dancing across tools of every conceivable shape and description hanging from hooks in the ceiling and from racks on the wall. At least a dozen machetes of varying shape and condition lay spread on the cluttered work bench that runs the length of one wall. On one end of the bench an electric wheel grinder stands still and ready for use. Again and again the rasping of metal on stone fills the claustrophobic space. Bubba, the ragin redneck, Reece stands at the other end of the bench a well-used machete held firm in a vice bolted to the bench, the small rectangular sharpening stone held expertly in his hand runs over the dulled blade again then suddenly it pauses.
“Braddock you and your troll wanted a war, you got one. I’ll get back to you in just a second, Ezra Blackstone What I have to say first and foremost has to go to you. I want you to know I understand you, I was a new kid once, I get why you do what you do. Just like all the other new kids you don’t want to be picked on so you search out the biggest baddest bro you can find and ya pop him in the nose. Only you took one look at Mr. Sadistic and decided not to mess with the biggest and the baddest you decided to come mess with a few others that might not put up so much damage on ya. Well here’s a newsflash…You just stepped into the biggest baddest shitpile in your sad pathetic life. I know I don’t speak for Braddock so I won’t, but I know for myself if you get in my way you will get ran over, and Ezra…you’re in my way…”
Turning his attention back to the task at hand Bubba wipes sweat from his scarred brow onto his dirty wife beater clad shoulder, his forehead still pink with fresh scar tissue. Heaving a sigh he runs the stone over the blade a few more times for good measure, By now the light has slowed its swinging canter through the air and the light and shadow still their dance for now. Releasing the newly sharpened blade from the pressure of the vice Bubba takes an experimental swing at nothing in particular then sets the hacking tool in a stack of several others, their freshly minted edges glinting wickedly in the harsh bright light.
“Michael Aaron Rickson Craig, I don’t know you from Adam, and I sure as hell don’t know who you pissed off to get stuck in the middle of this hell but there you are holding your dick in your hand looking around saying what the… Ah well I’d say it was nice knowing ya but I don’t and it’s not so too bad I gotta hurt ya. No hard feelings bud but you are in my way just like Ezra. You and the big sack of shit are nothing more than tools to take Braddock out with. I’m gonna use ya and I’m gonna throw ya away. There’s no helping ya, there’s no saving ya, there’s only taking you out by any means necessary.”
Sifting through the gathered machetes Bubba’s face breaks into a wicked grin, lifting a ball peen hammer off the bench sending a stack of paper and 6 screwdrivers crashing to the ground in a cacophonous chorus. Shrugging slightly and hefting the hammer in his right hand Bubba turns slightly.
“Well lookit here! I bet this little beauty can find its way under the ring at Trauma 180 and I know just who to use it on! Anyone in front of me. Braddock, Ezra, Michael it doesn’t matter. Whichever is unlucky enough to roll past me is gonna get hammered…er…nailed…er whatever! It’s not gonna feel too good that’s for sure.”
Setting the hammer aside Bubba turns back to the machetes and pulls out a nasty curved blade reminiscent of a pirate’s cutlass. Knocking the dust from the blade he nods in appreciation and begins searching through the clutter on the bench for something. After searching for a short bit Bubba reaches over and with a soft click the wheel grinder begins to whir as it spins up at a high rate of speed.
“Ya know Braddock I was thinking that I would really go into detail about what I am going to do to you but honestly everyone on the planet knows what I’m going to do to you, it’s the same thing you plan to do to me! Death is too good for ya, I’m gonna beat on ya with anything I can get my hands on and when the blood starts flowing…and believe me it’s gonna start flown quick…that’s when its gonna turn every shade of red known and then some!”
With a snicker and the pop of shattered glass the room is plunged into darkness as the light is violently swung into the ceiling. Just as suddenly as the darkness descends it is lit up again in a fireworks display as sparks rain down from the curved blade as it is brought across the spinning wheel grinder. As the sparks subside there is another soft click and the wheel grinder slows and the whirring stops. A door opens to let in the soft rays of the setting sun, a silhouetted Bubba stands in the open doorway his face turned back into the small room.
“Don’t be late boys and don’t forget your toys!”
Saluting with a ball peen hammer Bubba turns and walks away the hammer propped on one shoulder, the curved blade on the other.
**shing**
The unmistakable rasp of metal on stone rings out through the thick almost palpable darkness, penetrated only by an errant spark falling slowly to the ground.
“Old blood…”
**shing**
Again the metallic sound rings clear in the stifling air like a piece of tinfoil caught on a dental filling. This time no sparks fall as if to acknowledge the darkness has won.
“Blood is blood…”
**click**
Suddenly white light explodes in a small room the bare white bulb swings from a 2 foot cord suspended in the middle of the room. Shadows dip and sway in time with the light chasing it back and forth dancing across tools of every conceivable shape and description hanging from hooks in the ceiling and from racks on the wall. At least a dozen machetes of varying shape and condition lay spread on the cluttered work bench that runs the length of one wall. On one end of the bench an electric wheel grinder stands still and ready for use. Again and again the rasping of metal on stone fills the claustrophobic space. Bubba, the ragin redneck, Reece stands at the other end of the bench a well-used machete held firm in a vice bolted to the bench, the small rectangular sharpening stone held expertly in his hand runs over the dulled blade again then suddenly it pauses.
“Braddock you and your troll wanted a war, you got one. I’ll get back to you in just a second, Ezra Blackstone What I have to say first and foremost has to go to you. I want you to know I understand you, I was a new kid once, I get why you do what you do. Just like all the other new kids you don’t want to be picked on so you search out the biggest baddest bro you can find and ya pop him in the nose. Only you took one look at Mr. Sadistic and decided not to mess with the biggest and the baddest you decided to come mess with a few others that might not put up so much damage on ya. Well here’s a newsflash…You just stepped into the biggest baddest shitpile in your sad pathetic life. I know I don’t speak for Braddock so I won’t, but I know for myself if you get in my way you will get ran over, and Ezra…you’re in my way…”
Turning his attention back to the task at hand Bubba wipes sweat from his scarred brow onto his dirty wife beater clad shoulder, his forehead still pink with fresh scar tissue. Heaving a sigh he runs the stone over the blade a few more times for good measure, By now the light has slowed its swinging canter through the air and the light and shadow still their dance for now. Releasing the newly sharpened blade from the pressure of the vice Bubba takes an experimental swing at nothing in particular then sets the hacking tool in a stack of several others, their freshly minted edges glinting wickedly in the harsh bright light.
“Michael Aaron Rickson Craig, I don’t know you from Adam, and I sure as hell don’t know who you pissed off to get stuck in the middle of this hell but there you are holding your dick in your hand looking around saying what the… Ah well I’d say it was nice knowing ya but I don’t and it’s not so too bad I gotta hurt ya. No hard feelings bud but you are in my way just like Ezra. You and the big sack of shit are nothing more than tools to take Braddock out with. I’m gonna use ya and I’m gonna throw ya away. There’s no helping ya, there’s no saving ya, there’s only taking you out by any means necessary.”
Sifting through the gathered machetes Bubba’s face breaks into a wicked grin, lifting a ball peen hammer off the bench sending a stack of paper and 6 screwdrivers crashing to the ground in a cacophonous chorus. Shrugging slightly and hefting the hammer in his right hand Bubba turns slightly.
“Well lookit here! I bet this little beauty can find its way under the ring at Trauma 180 and I know just who to use it on! Anyone in front of me. Braddock, Ezra, Michael it doesn’t matter. Whichever is unlucky enough to roll past me is gonna get hammered…er…nailed…er whatever! It’s not gonna feel too good that’s for sure.”
Setting the hammer aside Bubba turns back to the machetes and pulls out a nasty curved blade reminiscent of a pirate’s cutlass. Knocking the dust from the blade he nods in appreciation and begins searching through the clutter on the bench for something. After searching for a short bit Bubba reaches over and with a soft click the wheel grinder begins to whir as it spins up at a high rate of speed.
“Ya know Braddock I was thinking that I would really go into detail about what I am going to do to you but honestly everyone on the planet knows what I’m going to do to you, it’s the same thing you plan to do to me! Death is too good for ya, I’m gonna beat on ya with anything I can get my hands on and when the blood starts flowing…and believe me it’s gonna start flown quick…that’s when its gonna turn every shade of red known and then some!”
With a snicker and the pop of shattered glass the room is plunged into darkness as the light is violently swung into the ceiling. Just as suddenly as the darkness descends it is lit up again in a fireworks display as sparks rain down from the curved blade as it is brought across the spinning wheel grinder. As the sparks subside there is another soft click and the wheel grinder slows and the whirring stops. A door opens to let in the soft rays of the setting sun, a silhouetted Bubba stands in the open doorway his face turned back into the small room.
“Don’t be late boys and don’t forget your toys!”
Saluting with a ball peen hammer Bubba turns and walks away the hammer propped on one shoulder, the curved blade on the other.
