Post by Judge on Oct 29, 2015 6:23:01 GMT -5
BAR ROOM BLITZ.
It was a time to celebrate for Judge, The Saints were on a roll in PCW and all they can do is go up from there. It was a flicker of annoyance that Jury had taken off right after their match, to Judge he felt a rift arising in their bond but tonight he wanted to celebrate and push those problems to the back.
The big man downed a beer, slapped Rat on the back whispering he was going to the bathroom, and he strolled to the bathroom. Once inside he picks a empty stall where he drains the main vain zipping his pants his phone begins to ring and he answers, "Judge."
As he listens Judge takes a prescription bottle out of his pocket, "Alright awesome and you're sure they are who they are?" He twists the cap shaking a few into his palm, "Good. Take them to the warehouse we'll do it there. Wait before you go grab three large pumpkins, propane tanks, and some liquorice," Judge shakes a few more into his palm before slapping them into his mouth and chewing, "Awesome opossum brother."
He hangs up and swallows the pills before returning to the bar. "Bar tender a round for me and my boys!" Judge bellowed out bursting through the bathroom door. The other Saints joined in embracing Judge with pats or half drunken hugs, "Things are looking up boys for the club, for Jury and I. The Lord is happy."
Someone at the pool table laughs but Judge ignores this, for now. He goes back to drinking speaking to Fat Tony, "So business," Nicko speaks up this time, "Shouldn't we wait for Jury and Victor?"
This makes Judge roll his eyes, "Jury went home to prune his puss and Victor is there to lap up the extra, I can handle our business."
Everyone nodded in agreement and Judge carried on, "As I was saying Tony I need you to get in touch with the Arizona charter, they are having a tough time pushing our dope coming in from California."
Fat Tony lights a cigarette, "They say why?"
"Ah, some gang bangers and a crooked cop named Malone," Judge cracks his knuckles as the big man at the pool table snickered again, "He's on the bangers pay roll, take a ride and help them solve it."
"Deal I'll take Othello first thing in the morning," Fat Tony began but Judge waved that away, "No, take Rat here. I got Othello helping me."
Fat Tony nodded in agreement and Judge continued, "Next I need some guys to ride back to Frankfort, I haven't talked to Tokes or the others in a couple days and they ain't checked in. Last time they said anything they said they had a tail but couldn't say if it was the rivals or cops."
"It has to be rivals," answer Rat taking a shot but Judge shrugs, "I don't know we took care of most of their guys or the rest ran to other charters when we was there. Just have someone look into it. Tomorrow I'm going to take stock of what we got at the warehouse and get orders from other charters and our alliances, then I'll meet with the supplier after Trauma."
They all clapped in agreement and take drinks from their beer when the man at the pool table whistles at them, "Hey fellas over here," the others look his way but Judge looks at his bottle, "To badass to look huh? What you guys think y'all are? Sons of Anarchy wannabes? Sone fake ass biker boys?"
The Saints turn from relaxed behavior to defense mode but Judge is smiling and still not looking up. The man talking is sharing laughs with his boys, "Why don't y'all finish those bitch beers and bounce? That bullshit talk is giving me a headache."
One of the other mans friend's whispers something that makes the big man bust with laughter, "Hey big dude, I know who you are now! You that fake ass wrestling bitch Judge ain't you? Oh my God and here you sit living and breathing before God, talking this biker trash! You a fake ass biker and a fake ass wrestler mother fucker. I bet you letting that wrestling gimmick carry over outside the ring like the rest of those fake pussies, aint you?"
"I bet his big dumbass can't even fight," spoke up one of the other guys buddies and they all are consumed with fits of laughter. Judge downs the rest of his beer and another before standing up, "Fake?"
"Yeah bitch fake as Hell," said the mocking man meeting Judge in the center of the bar. Both of their men are right behind their leaders.
"I've probably done more with my life being a wrestler than what you can probaly do wrestling your little prick from your trousers," Judge slyly and calmly replied but the other man's face was anything but relaxed. He poked Judge hard, "Oh big words from the fake biker," he pokes Judge again, "Teach that in wresslin' school?" He pokes Judge again. Judge slyly lays a hand on a pool stick.
"Bet you can't really fight cocksucker," the man pokes Judge again, "You know what else I know? Your God ain't shit!"
Another poke and Judge's face goes blank but this time red and when he speaks his voice is calm, "Judge not, least ye be judged."
This confuses the man and before the pool stick cracks across his face, busting it into splinters, he gets out most of the word 'what'. Judge is on his game after the stick is broken he takes the part still in his hand and stabs it into the leg of another man, a elbow knocks another man out, and before they bust a pool stick across Judge's back he drops one more man by kicking him in the balls (come to find out the left one busted).
The whole bar erupts into a brawl after this. Judge is grabbed up by both arms while a third man works Judge's ribs, the hook to his cheek, and another hook catches him across the nose breaking it.
Judge is hysterical with laughter and uses the men holding him to kick the punching man in his left knee, it buckles backwards, and then Judge snaps the other two men over his shoulders. When they hit the ground they are quickly subdued with kicks to their heads.
He grabs a bottle of beer smashing it over the head of a man choking a Saint. It is over as soon as it starts because the bar tender who is also the owner has had enough and with the butt of his shotgun cracks Judge in the side of the head! Judge's world goes black before he falls over knocking over several tables. The bartender points the gun at some of the Saints nodding towards the door, "Get him up and get the fuck out!"
HALLOWEEN MISCHIEF.
"More grows in a garden then a gardener knows" -Spanish Proverb.
Halloween spirits were high for Judge as he whistled 'Monster Mash' about the warehouse in a very ugly black and orange sweater with design's of pumpkins, witches, and black hissing cats. The big man was also wearing black latex gloves and with a spoon he mixes something inside a pot that sits over a burning flame. His nose a mixture of black and purple is in a brace, left eye blood shot, and a portion of his hair is shaved so he could have had stitches.
Othello comes around the corner of some gun crates his mask colored to match Halloween colors, "What is that smell?"
Judge resumes his work at cutting a big circle in his third pumpkin, "Black liquorice for my halloween treats my dear boy, is everything set in order?"
Othello nods, "They've been drugged and released at the select destinations," he then holds up a black trash bag, "And these are their right hands as requested."
Judge very giddy takes the bag from Othello offering a seat, "Sit. Sit friend, I need to clear my head and you're the best listener Othello."
Othello shrugs, "If you say so sir, what is on your mind?"
"My damn brother," Judge says with a little more venom in the word brother than intended, "This tiff he's going through is a stick in my crawl. I mean does he have these melt downs often?"
"It isn't uncommon but," Othello said watching Judge curiously, "He's been through a lot. Use to control and doing things alone. Before you came along he had no true bonds, zero faith, and he was already lost without knowing who he was."
Judge makes a huffing noise as he opens the bag finally pulling out the first hand with a pair of tongs, "Well he needs to pull his shit together before 181 is all I'm saying or we will blow this!"
"He feels you aren't taking this as serious," Othello replies nonchalant, "Like you believe it'll be cake work taking on Revelation."
Judge drops the first hand into the boiling pot of liquorice making a grunting noise, "How am I coming off with anything else but focus?! I know what we're getting into and I damn sure know it won't be easy! I haven't done all of this killing and putting on false smiles to be all buddy buddy with the Black Hand. Cory or Jury is shockingly and deeply obessed with being accepted by the Black Hand, by Grimm, or Billy. Can you deny that?"
Othello shakes his head, he couldn't disagree. Judge picks out the hand now covered in liquorice laying it on a pan with a baking sheet on it and goes to retrieve the second hand, "Exactly, he needs their approval for what reason I don't know. False idol's Othello, they are false idols. God gave me this mission to pull my brother back unto his fold."
Judge continues on by pulling the second out, places it by the other hand, and repeats with the third hand.
"They've got to him somehow thus explaining his second guessing and questioning me," Judge spits wickedly, "However my faith in God and his working us stronger then their false words. We must win this match and prove they are beatable! Bust the myth that Grimm is some minor god of wickedness but a simple man like us that can be beaten! I want us to be the monsters at the end of the match, you get what I'm saying?"
"Quiet clearly," said Othello with full truth, "It can be done Judge."
"I know this and we will do this," Judge laughed, "I will prove that the Hand is just a hand and it can be broken. Shattered. I of course won't stop there, I believe to get my point across to Jury we must beat them all."
Judge removes the last hand sitting it with the others, "The Black Hand is a lot like black liquorice."
"How so sir?"
Judge slides the pan into a freezer turning around he flashes a toothy smile like a wolf, "Everyone hates black liquorice!"
This followed with laughter from both men for a few minutes. After about thirty minutes during which time Judge had taken the hands out of the freezer stuck them on spikes, placed them inside the pumpkins, and with candles also placed inside he stands back to admire his work.
"I have all the confidence in world for my brother," Judge spoke softly removing his gloves, "We have to win this, so he can see that he sees he isn't like them or doesn't need them. Show the PCW faithful that Saints prevail over all evil. I came to my brother to show him I accept him. The Saints will destroy the Black Hand in the world and in the ring."
"Are they ready?"
Judge nodded patting Othello on the back, "They are brother and that means you're up again. Lets show the Black Hand this is personal."
BACK FROM THE TRIP
October 31st Judge returns late that night to the Compound, a days drive to his hunting grounds for his birthday and Halloween ritual had left him humble for the time being to reconcile with his brother on their birthday. Othello had completed his job in Langley Virginia confirming that the message was received by the FBI. He pulled up into his parking spot killing the engine to the truck stepping out he grabs his bag dragging it behind him but stops before he can head towards the door his phone rings so he answers, "Its Judge."
It wasn't good news by the look on his face. He rubs his face in a defeated manner, "Alright just come back I don't have a good feeling about this and I don't think they'll be found unless it was meant for us to find them."
Sitting in a chair alone was Jury drinking a beer, "Where you been?"
"You'll know in time that I have a birthday ritual that coincides with my passage into manhood," Judge replied, "And it is Halloween as well, complicated stuff best saved for another day. Care if I join you?"
Jury nods handing his brother a beer. Judge cracks the top and sits beside his brother, "I am sorry we've both been in different levels but I know at 181 it will be my last chance to prove us having a solid bond. It'll be my last chance to prove the Hand is beatable. I promise though I will take this serious brother, I need you, and you need me. You are more than you believe."
Jury stays silent for a few minutes just drinking before speaking, "Lets just leave it all in the ring."
"Fair enough," Judge simply replied, "So with it being Halloween themed at Trauma, I got us some gear to go a long with it."
Judge smiles looking at his brothers face with actual love, "Also since you've ditched that tacky old mask how about you don a wicked ass mask for one more night?"
Judge unzips his bag and shows his brother what he has, this makes Jury smile, "I can agree with this brother. Trauma is going to the Saints!"
It was a time to celebrate for Judge, The Saints were on a roll in PCW and all they can do is go up from there. It was a flicker of annoyance that Jury had taken off right after their match, to Judge he felt a rift arising in their bond but tonight he wanted to celebrate and push those problems to the back.
The big man downed a beer, slapped Rat on the back whispering he was going to the bathroom, and he strolled to the bathroom. Once inside he picks a empty stall where he drains the main vain zipping his pants his phone begins to ring and he answers, "Judge."
As he listens Judge takes a prescription bottle out of his pocket, "Alright awesome and you're sure they are who they are?" He twists the cap shaking a few into his palm, "Good. Take them to the warehouse we'll do it there. Wait before you go grab three large pumpkins, propane tanks, and some liquorice," Judge shakes a few more into his palm before slapping them into his mouth and chewing, "Awesome opossum brother."
He hangs up and swallows the pills before returning to the bar. "Bar tender a round for me and my boys!" Judge bellowed out bursting through the bathroom door. The other Saints joined in embracing Judge with pats or half drunken hugs, "Things are looking up boys for the club, for Jury and I. The Lord is happy."
Someone at the pool table laughs but Judge ignores this, for now. He goes back to drinking speaking to Fat Tony, "So business," Nicko speaks up this time, "Shouldn't we wait for Jury and Victor?"
This makes Judge roll his eyes, "Jury went home to prune his puss and Victor is there to lap up the extra, I can handle our business."
Everyone nodded in agreement and Judge carried on, "As I was saying Tony I need you to get in touch with the Arizona charter, they are having a tough time pushing our dope coming in from California."
Fat Tony lights a cigarette, "They say why?"
"Ah, some gang bangers and a crooked cop named Malone," Judge cracks his knuckles as the big man at the pool table snickered again, "He's on the bangers pay roll, take a ride and help them solve it."
"Deal I'll take Othello first thing in the morning," Fat Tony began but Judge waved that away, "No, take Rat here. I got Othello helping me."
Fat Tony nodded in agreement and Judge continued, "Next I need some guys to ride back to Frankfort, I haven't talked to Tokes or the others in a couple days and they ain't checked in. Last time they said anything they said they had a tail but couldn't say if it was the rivals or cops."
"It has to be rivals," answer Rat taking a shot but Judge shrugs, "I don't know we took care of most of their guys or the rest ran to other charters when we was there. Just have someone look into it. Tomorrow I'm going to take stock of what we got at the warehouse and get orders from other charters and our alliances, then I'll meet with the supplier after Trauma."
They all clapped in agreement and take drinks from their beer when the man at the pool table whistles at them, "Hey fellas over here," the others look his way but Judge looks at his bottle, "To badass to look huh? What you guys think y'all are? Sons of Anarchy wannabes? Sone fake ass biker boys?"
The Saints turn from relaxed behavior to defense mode but Judge is smiling and still not looking up. The man talking is sharing laughs with his boys, "Why don't y'all finish those bitch beers and bounce? That bullshit talk is giving me a headache."
One of the other mans friend's whispers something that makes the big man bust with laughter, "Hey big dude, I know who you are now! You that fake ass wrestling bitch Judge ain't you? Oh my God and here you sit living and breathing before God, talking this biker trash! You a fake ass biker and a fake ass wrestler mother fucker. I bet you letting that wrestling gimmick carry over outside the ring like the rest of those fake pussies, aint you?"
"I bet his big dumbass can't even fight," spoke up one of the other guys buddies and they all are consumed with fits of laughter. Judge downs the rest of his beer and another before standing up, "Fake?"
"Yeah bitch fake as Hell," said the mocking man meeting Judge in the center of the bar. Both of their men are right behind their leaders.
"I've probably done more with my life being a wrestler than what you can probaly do wrestling your little prick from your trousers," Judge slyly and calmly replied but the other man's face was anything but relaxed. He poked Judge hard, "Oh big words from the fake biker," he pokes Judge again, "Teach that in wresslin' school?" He pokes Judge again. Judge slyly lays a hand on a pool stick.
"Bet you can't really fight cocksucker," the man pokes Judge again, "You know what else I know? Your God ain't shit!"
Another poke and Judge's face goes blank but this time red and when he speaks his voice is calm, "Judge not, least ye be judged."
This confuses the man and before the pool stick cracks across his face, busting it into splinters, he gets out most of the word 'what'. Judge is on his game after the stick is broken he takes the part still in his hand and stabs it into the leg of another man, a elbow knocks another man out, and before they bust a pool stick across Judge's back he drops one more man by kicking him in the balls (come to find out the left one busted).
The whole bar erupts into a brawl after this. Judge is grabbed up by both arms while a third man works Judge's ribs, the hook to his cheek, and another hook catches him across the nose breaking it.
Judge is hysterical with laughter and uses the men holding him to kick the punching man in his left knee, it buckles backwards, and then Judge snaps the other two men over his shoulders. When they hit the ground they are quickly subdued with kicks to their heads.
He grabs a bottle of beer smashing it over the head of a man choking a Saint. It is over as soon as it starts because the bar tender who is also the owner has had enough and with the butt of his shotgun cracks Judge in the side of the head! Judge's world goes black before he falls over knocking over several tables. The bartender points the gun at some of the Saints nodding towards the door, "Get him up and get the fuck out!"
HALLOWEEN MISCHIEF.
"More grows in a garden then a gardener knows" -Spanish Proverb.
Halloween spirits were high for Judge as he whistled 'Monster Mash' about the warehouse in a very ugly black and orange sweater with design's of pumpkins, witches, and black hissing cats. The big man was also wearing black latex gloves and with a spoon he mixes something inside a pot that sits over a burning flame. His nose a mixture of black and purple is in a brace, left eye blood shot, and a portion of his hair is shaved so he could have had stitches.
Othello comes around the corner of some gun crates his mask colored to match Halloween colors, "What is that smell?"
Judge resumes his work at cutting a big circle in his third pumpkin, "Black liquorice for my halloween treats my dear boy, is everything set in order?"
Othello nods, "They've been drugged and released at the select destinations," he then holds up a black trash bag, "And these are their right hands as requested."
Judge very giddy takes the bag from Othello offering a seat, "Sit. Sit friend, I need to clear my head and you're the best listener Othello."
Othello shrugs, "If you say so sir, what is on your mind?"
"My damn brother," Judge says with a little more venom in the word brother than intended, "This tiff he's going through is a stick in my crawl. I mean does he have these melt downs often?"
"It isn't uncommon but," Othello said watching Judge curiously, "He's been through a lot. Use to control and doing things alone. Before you came along he had no true bonds, zero faith, and he was already lost without knowing who he was."
Judge makes a huffing noise as he opens the bag finally pulling out the first hand with a pair of tongs, "Well he needs to pull his shit together before 181 is all I'm saying or we will blow this!"
"He feels you aren't taking this as serious," Othello replies nonchalant, "Like you believe it'll be cake work taking on Revelation."
Judge drops the first hand into the boiling pot of liquorice making a grunting noise, "How am I coming off with anything else but focus?! I know what we're getting into and I damn sure know it won't be easy! I haven't done all of this killing and putting on false smiles to be all buddy buddy with the Black Hand. Cory or Jury is shockingly and deeply obessed with being accepted by the Black Hand, by Grimm, or Billy. Can you deny that?"
Othello shakes his head, he couldn't disagree. Judge picks out the hand now covered in liquorice laying it on a pan with a baking sheet on it and goes to retrieve the second hand, "Exactly, he needs their approval for what reason I don't know. False idol's Othello, they are false idols. God gave me this mission to pull my brother back unto his fold."
Judge continues on by pulling the second out, places it by the other hand, and repeats with the third hand.
"They've got to him somehow thus explaining his second guessing and questioning me," Judge spits wickedly, "However my faith in God and his working us stronger then their false words. We must win this match and prove they are beatable! Bust the myth that Grimm is some minor god of wickedness but a simple man like us that can be beaten! I want us to be the monsters at the end of the match, you get what I'm saying?"
"Quiet clearly," said Othello with full truth, "It can be done Judge."
"I know this and we will do this," Judge laughed, "I will prove that the Hand is just a hand and it can be broken. Shattered. I of course won't stop there, I believe to get my point across to Jury we must beat them all."
Judge removes the last hand sitting it with the others, "The Black Hand is a lot like black liquorice."
"How so sir?"
Judge slides the pan into a freezer turning around he flashes a toothy smile like a wolf, "Everyone hates black liquorice!"
This followed with laughter from both men for a few minutes. After about thirty minutes during which time Judge had taken the hands out of the freezer stuck them on spikes, placed them inside the pumpkins, and with candles also placed inside he stands back to admire his work.
"I have all the confidence in world for my brother," Judge spoke softly removing his gloves, "We have to win this, so he can see that he sees he isn't like them or doesn't need them. Show the PCW faithful that Saints prevail over all evil. I came to my brother to show him I accept him. The Saints will destroy the Black Hand in the world and in the ring."
"Are they ready?"
Judge nodded patting Othello on the back, "They are brother and that means you're up again. Lets show the Black Hand this is personal."
BACK FROM THE TRIP
October 31st Judge returns late that night to the Compound, a days drive to his hunting grounds for his birthday and Halloween ritual had left him humble for the time being to reconcile with his brother on their birthday. Othello had completed his job in Langley Virginia confirming that the message was received by the FBI. He pulled up into his parking spot killing the engine to the truck stepping out he grabs his bag dragging it behind him but stops before he can head towards the door his phone rings so he answers, "Its Judge."
It wasn't good news by the look on his face. He rubs his face in a defeated manner, "Alright just come back I don't have a good feeling about this and I don't think they'll be found unless it was meant for us to find them."
Sitting in a chair alone was Jury drinking a beer, "Where you been?"
"You'll know in time that I have a birthday ritual that coincides with my passage into manhood," Judge replied, "And it is Halloween as well, complicated stuff best saved for another day. Care if I join you?"
Jury nods handing his brother a beer. Judge cracks the top and sits beside his brother, "I am sorry we've both been in different levels but I know at 181 it will be my last chance to prove us having a solid bond. It'll be my last chance to prove the Hand is beatable. I promise though I will take this serious brother, I need you, and you need me. You are more than you believe."
Jury stays silent for a few minutes just drinking before speaking, "Lets just leave it all in the ring."
"Fair enough," Judge simply replied, "So with it being Halloween themed at Trauma, I got us some gear to go a long with it."
Judge smiles looking at his brothers face with actual love, "Also since you've ditched that tacky old mask how about you don a wicked ass mask for one more night?"
Judge unzips his bag and shows his brother what he has, this makes Jury smile, "I can agree with this brother. Trauma is going to the Saints!"
