Post by Bubba on Oct 29, 2015 2:34:12 GMT -5
Riding high on the thrill of victory Bubba Reece, The Ragin Redneck, sits on his well-worn easy chair outside his Lizard Gizzard North Carolina home. Fabric and stuffing lay around the dilapidated lounger as much as on or inside it. Bubba smiles to himself eyes shut taking in the sounds of home when the sharp glaring noise of his Samsung Galaxy S6 edge+ rings to life poping his eyes open. Deftly picking up his phone and sliding his index finger across the screen in one fluid motion Bubba pulls the large block of glass and plastic to his ear.
“Yeah you got Bubba what ya need?”
His thick southern drawl lingering in the air like the sweet scent of earth after a cleansing rain, Bubba’s smile broadens as he recognizes the voice of his old tag partner on the other end.
“Nice win hillbilly, no time to rest though, you see who you got next?”
Frank Merritt, lost to injury several weeks back both compliments and chides his friend in the same breath. Sitting forward in the chair Bubba rocks slightly as he rises to his feet and begins pacing. The soft thud of his black combat boots on the warped and pitted wood deck echo slightly in the receiver of his phone.
“Yeah Frank I know, I got the big man, don’t ask me to say his name cause I can’t…it’s alright though I got an ace up my sleeve and it ain’t some cheap shot from an old partner either. I prefer to win my matches on my own merits…heheheh get it…I just said your last name…but I didn’t!”
“Yeah bubba you’re a real gas ya fuckin hick. You best get serious about this guy, from what I hear he ain’t no joke.”
Taking a deep breath Bubba sighs shrugging.
“Well I thought it was funny, I got this partner you got to trust me. As soon as I am off the phone with you I am making a call to a certain 2x4 swinging redneck I know that waged his own war with a different Japanese sumo type dude, what was his name Yoko…Yoko…ono? Nah that was that bitch that killed Lennon…”
“It’s Yokozuna you daft country fuck…”
“Yeah, yeah that’s him! If Hacksaw can’t train me up for this fight no one can! Hey when are you coming back?”
Suddenly loud static erupts from Bubba’s phone and broken conversation is all that’s left as the phone quickly quiets. Looking down at the phone, then up to the overcast evening sky as if he could see the busted cell signal beaming down to his phone Bubba shakes his phone once, then again then brings it back to his ear.
“Hello? Hello…Frank? Ah well I need to call Hacksaw anyways…”
Sliding his finger across the screen one more time Bubba finds himself looking at a picture of his 15 year old son Gabriel standing with his arm over the shoulder of an older boy who looks strikingly similar to the battered but victorious Bubba Reece.
Couldn’t ask for a better home screen, or a better pair a boys! Gabe, and Xander, two widow makers and heart breakers! Punching an imaginary button on his screen Bubba brings up his speed dial list and hits number two. Looking out over the swamp that creeps right up to his front porch he waits for the other end to pick up.
"Hooo! There’s one of my favorite redneck brothers! What can I do for you Bubba?”
The familiar gruff sound of Hacksaw Jim Duggan greets Bubba and he smiles like a teenager meeting his idol for the first time. Renewing his pacing Bubba stammers a bit overcome with excitement as he reconnects with his long time mentor and trainer.
“We…Well…uh…Hey Mr. Duggan…”
“Whaaaat??? You need to call me Jim son!”
“Oh sorry Ji…Jim….It’s like this, I’ve got a match coming up and I think I need a little extra training.”
“Ya think or ya know Bubba, Come on man pull yourself together!”
“No Jim I know I need the help, what was it like taking on Yokozuna?”
“Why you fighting someone like him?”
Taking a deep breath Bubba recounts the last few weeks with his mentor holding nothing back, every slam, every punch, every single sickening slice, gouge, and gash from a certain rusty spike. Afterwards breathless and flushed Bubba waits anticipating what his hero might think.
“Well crap man, sounds like you found yourself hip deep in the business end of fertilizer farm…I don’t get it though, how does this Sumo guy, what’s his name? How does he fit in to all of this?
“Honestly I’m not too sure Jim, Maybe they just want to give me something a little different this time around. I’m not turning my back for a second though, that snake Braddock and his sleaze ball manager are bound to barge in and screw with me somehow!”
After a long pause a sigh can be heard on the other end of the conversation.
“Well you better get over here so we can train proper like. Catch the next flight out so we have plenty of time to strategize.”
With that last statement there is a click and the line goes dead once again. Sliding his phone into his back pocket Bubba turns and opens the front door to the run down blue house and enters calling out.
“Where’s my clean shirt grandmamma I gotta take a trip to Lugoff SC. Gonna go see Hacksaw for some specialized training.”
An elderly yet strong voice can be heard from deeper inside the house.
“Oooooh you tell that handsome hunk of man meat Viola says hello!”
Cringing as if he is about to be hit by a truck Bubba shakes his head laughing.
“Uh…no grandmamma that’s just weird…I’ll tell him my sweet dear grandmamma who would never have an impure thought says hello though…”
“Whatever Bubba as long as he knows I’m thinking about him…Here’s your shirt, and an extra pair of underwear too…”
“GRANDMAMA STOP!”
Early the next morning Bubba emerges from the breezeway that attaches the Boeing 747 to the airport terminal. Very few people stand waiting for the new arrivals at gate 8 of Columbia Metropolitan Airport. One rather large man is standing, his black jeans and black skin tight under armor shirt appearing fresh and new. His boisterous grin cracks into an even wider smile as his eyes rest on Bubba.
“There’s my boy! Come on let’s go get your bags.”
Holding up a single Gym style duffel bag Bubba shrugs.
“This is it, I figure less time messing around here, more time to train.”
Nodding his approval Hacksaw Jim Duggan slaps Bubba into a huge bear hug. Instinctively Bubba begins tapping knowing his mentor will not relent until he feels the rhythmic slap that signals submission. Exhaling slowly Bubba adjusts his tight fitting white wife beater tank top needlessly then steps in behind his trainer as he is led out of the airport and into a waiting SUV. Less than an hour later Bubba and Jim exit the SUV stretching and laughing as they continue a conversation from earlier.
“Yeah those were some good times Bubba my boy!”
“I bet they were…Whoa! When did you build this?”
Rounding the corner of the garage Bubba stands staring at an outside wrestling ring complete with steel steps and guard rails. After a nod from his friend Bubba slides in under the bottom rope stepping off the measurements finding them exact to the specifications of a professional wrestling ring. Testing the tension in the ropes Bubba whips from side to side several times before jumping up and coming down with a loud satisfying crash both feet firmly planted in the exact center of the ring.
“I take it my little playground meets your high standards of excellence Mr. Reece?”
Hacksaw calls out in a haughty voice, then.
“Since you’re already in there why not get started, if I’m not mistaken you don’t change much in the way of in ring attire verses out of ring attire.”
“Nope never have, never will, what ya got for me Hacksaw?”
“Oh nothing much just Virgil….Get on out here Virgil it’s time to start.”
The sound of the rolling garage door can be heard sliding up and out of the way, as a dark shadow looms from out of its depths. One of the largest men Bubba has ever seen lumbers up to the ring apron and then around to the steel steps. Easily pushing 400 pounds the bald behemoth makes his way into the ring his imposing stature enough to give the likes of the late great Bam Bam Bigelow pause. Virgil, as Hacksaw named him, stands in the center of the ring his stained and dirty coveralls straining to keep in his massive frame.
“Uh…Jim can I talk to you a second? Number one…Where did you find this guy? And Number two…Are you sure this is a good Idea?”
Climbing onto the ring apron Jim Duggan gives an innocent shrug then slaps Bubba on the back.
“What’s the matter Virgil not big enough for ya? He’s all I could find on short notice…RING THE BELL!”
The clarion call of a brass bell being struck sends Virgil rushing forward at a snail’s pace. Ducking under his clumsy grab Bubba hurls himself into the ropes throwing himself at the man mountain as he passes by. Virgil absorbs the blow and swings for Bubba who quickly ducks out of the way.
“Hold up! Wait! This will never do!”
Hacksaw begins shouting as he enters the ring, tapping his temple with his index finger he stops near the center of the ring.
“Virgil here is too slow, I’m sure this guy you have to face isn’t anywhere near as slow as Virgil…”
Again temple tapping ensues then suddenly the South Carolina man grins wickedly.
“I got it! You’ll just have to face the both of us!”
With that Hacksaw Jim Duggan grabs Bubba by the arm and Irish whips him into the corner then signals for Virgil rush in. The last thing Bubba sees before his vision fades is a wall of sweaty, hairy coverall clad hillbilly flying about an inch off the ground aimed right at his…
“Yeah you got Bubba what ya need?”
His thick southern drawl lingering in the air like the sweet scent of earth after a cleansing rain, Bubba’s smile broadens as he recognizes the voice of his old tag partner on the other end.
“Nice win hillbilly, no time to rest though, you see who you got next?”
Frank Merritt, lost to injury several weeks back both compliments and chides his friend in the same breath. Sitting forward in the chair Bubba rocks slightly as he rises to his feet and begins pacing. The soft thud of his black combat boots on the warped and pitted wood deck echo slightly in the receiver of his phone.
“Yeah Frank I know, I got the big man, don’t ask me to say his name cause I can’t…it’s alright though I got an ace up my sleeve and it ain’t some cheap shot from an old partner either. I prefer to win my matches on my own merits…heheheh get it…I just said your last name…but I didn’t!”
“Yeah bubba you’re a real gas ya fuckin hick. You best get serious about this guy, from what I hear he ain’t no joke.”
Taking a deep breath Bubba sighs shrugging.
“Well I thought it was funny, I got this partner you got to trust me. As soon as I am off the phone with you I am making a call to a certain 2x4 swinging redneck I know that waged his own war with a different Japanese sumo type dude, what was his name Yoko…Yoko…ono? Nah that was that bitch that killed Lennon…”
“It’s Yokozuna you daft country fuck…”
“Yeah, yeah that’s him! If Hacksaw can’t train me up for this fight no one can! Hey when are you coming back?”
Suddenly loud static erupts from Bubba’s phone and broken conversation is all that’s left as the phone quickly quiets. Looking down at the phone, then up to the overcast evening sky as if he could see the busted cell signal beaming down to his phone Bubba shakes his phone once, then again then brings it back to his ear.
“Hello? Hello…Frank? Ah well I need to call Hacksaw anyways…”
Sliding his finger across the screen one more time Bubba finds himself looking at a picture of his 15 year old son Gabriel standing with his arm over the shoulder of an older boy who looks strikingly similar to the battered but victorious Bubba Reece.
Couldn’t ask for a better home screen, or a better pair a boys! Gabe, and Xander, two widow makers and heart breakers! Punching an imaginary button on his screen Bubba brings up his speed dial list and hits number two. Looking out over the swamp that creeps right up to his front porch he waits for the other end to pick up.
"Hooo! There’s one of my favorite redneck brothers! What can I do for you Bubba?”
The familiar gruff sound of Hacksaw Jim Duggan greets Bubba and he smiles like a teenager meeting his idol for the first time. Renewing his pacing Bubba stammers a bit overcome with excitement as he reconnects with his long time mentor and trainer.
“We…Well…uh…Hey Mr. Duggan…”
“Whaaaat??? You need to call me Jim son!”
“Oh sorry Ji…Jim….It’s like this, I’ve got a match coming up and I think I need a little extra training.”
“Ya think or ya know Bubba, Come on man pull yourself together!”
“No Jim I know I need the help, what was it like taking on Yokozuna?”
“Why you fighting someone like him?”
Taking a deep breath Bubba recounts the last few weeks with his mentor holding nothing back, every slam, every punch, every single sickening slice, gouge, and gash from a certain rusty spike. Afterwards breathless and flushed Bubba waits anticipating what his hero might think.
“Well crap man, sounds like you found yourself hip deep in the business end of fertilizer farm…I don’t get it though, how does this Sumo guy, what’s his name? How does he fit in to all of this?
“Honestly I’m not too sure Jim, Maybe they just want to give me something a little different this time around. I’m not turning my back for a second though, that snake Braddock and his sleaze ball manager are bound to barge in and screw with me somehow!”
After a long pause a sigh can be heard on the other end of the conversation.
“Well you better get over here so we can train proper like. Catch the next flight out so we have plenty of time to strategize.”
With that last statement there is a click and the line goes dead once again. Sliding his phone into his back pocket Bubba turns and opens the front door to the run down blue house and enters calling out.
“Where’s my clean shirt grandmamma I gotta take a trip to Lugoff SC. Gonna go see Hacksaw for some specialized training.”
An elderly yet strong voice can be heard from deeper inside the house.
“Oooooh you tell that handsome hunk of man meat Viola says hello!”
Cringing as if he is about to be hit by a truck Bubba shakes his head laughing.
“Uh…no grandmamma that’s just weird…I’ll tell him my sweet dear grandmamma who would never have an impure thought says hello though…”
“Whatever Bubba as long as he knows I’m thinking about him…Here’s your shirt, and an extra pair of underwear too…”
“GRANDMAMA STOP!”
Early the next morning Bubba emerges from the breezeway that attaches the Boeing 747 to the airport terminal. Very few people stand waiting for the new arrivals at gate 8 of Columbia Metropolitan Airport. One rather large man is standing, his black jeans and black skin tight under armor shirt appearing fresh and new. His boisterous grin cracks into an even wider smile as his eyes rest on Bubba.
“There’s my boy! Come on let’s go get your bags.”
Holding up a single Gym style duffel bag Bubba shrugs.
“This is it, I figure less time messing around here, more time to train.”
Nodding his approval Hacksaw Jim Duggan slaps Bubba into a huge bear hug. Instinctively Bubba begins tapping knowing his mentor will not relent until he feels the rhythmic slap that signals submission. Exhaling slowly Bubba adjusts his tight fitting white wife beater tank top needlessly then steps in behind his trainer as he is led out of the airport and into a waiting SUV. Less than an hour later Bubba and Jim exit the SUV stretching and laughing as they continue a conversation from earlier.
“Yeah those were some good times Bubba my boy!”
“I bet they were…Whoa! When did you build this?”
Rounding the corner of the garage Bubba stands staring at an outside wrestling ring complete with steel steps and guard rails. After a nod from his friend Bubba slides in under the bottom rope stepping off the measurements finding them exact to the specifications of a professional wrestling ring. Testing the tension in the ropes Bubba whips from side to side several times before jumping up and coming down with a loud satisfying crash both feet firmly planted in the exact center of the ring.
“I take it my little playground meets your high standards of excellence Mr. Reece?”
Hacksaw calls out in a haughty voice, then.
“Since you’re already in there why not get started, if I’m not mistaken you don’t change much in the way of in ring attire verses out of ring attire.”
“Nope never have, never will, what ya got for me Hacksaw?”
“Oh nothing much just Virgil….Get on out here Virgil it’s time to start.”
The sound of the rolling garage door can be heard sliding up and out of the way, as a dark shadow looms from out of its depths. One of the largest men Bubba has ever seen lumbers up to the ring apron and then around to the steel steps. Easily pushing 400 pounds the bald behemoth makes his way into the ring his imposing stature enough to give the likes of the late great Bam Bam Bigelow pause. Virgil, as Hacksaw named him, stands in the center of the ring his stained and dirty coveralls straining to keep in his massive frame.
“Uh…Jim can I talk to you a second? Number one…Where did you find this guy? And Number two…Are you sure this is a good Idea?”
Climbing onto the ring apron Jim Duggan gives an innocent shrug then slaps Bubba on the back.
“What’s the matter Virgil not big enough for ya? He’s all I could find on short notice…RING THE BELL!”
The clarion call of a brass bell being struck sends Virgil rushing forward at a snail’s pace. Ducking under his clumsy grab Bubba hurls himself into the ropes throwing himself at the man mountain as he passes by. Virgil absorbs the blow and swings for Bubba who quickly ducks out of the way.
“Hold up! Wait! This will never do!”
Hacksaw begins shouting as he enters the ring, tapping his temple with his index finger he stops near the center of the ring.
“Virgil here is too slow, I’m sure this guy you have to face isn’t anywhere near as slow as Virgil…”
Again temple tapping ensues then suddenly the South Carolina man grins wickedly.
“I got it! You’ll just have to face the both of us!”
With that Hacksaw Jim Duggan grabs Bubba by the arm and Irish whips him into the corner then signals for Virgil rush in. The last thing Bubba sees before his vision fades is a wall of sweaty, hairy coverall clad hillbilly flying about an inch off the ground aimed right at his…
