| SNA | Date: Thursday, 2011/07/07, 3:14 PM | Message # 1 |
 Curtain Jerker
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 63
Status: Offline
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Why do I stick by him? Through everything that he has ever done, why am I the chump that gets stuck picking up the pieces when everything goes to shit?
Nick lay snoring on the hotel room floor with his white t-shirt up exposing hard abdominals. The sun barely peaked between the blinds, glinting off the turned over bottle of Jack near his head. Greg Kilmore stood in the doorway and rolled a cigarette between his two fingers as he gave the hungover husk a sullen glare.
"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey." Greg said. "Get off the god damn floor you idiot."
Nick did not comply. Greg stepped into the bathroom and came back with a glass of ice water that he dumped all over him. Nick sat up soaked and then rolled over to the side, sputtering and mumbling before resting his throbbing forehead against his forearm and falling asleep again.
Why?
It was the first quarter of ninety-nine. "The Texas Ramblin' Man" was in the twilight of his career and he knew it, but he still had the strap. He also had a carp on the mat with his own thick, scarred over forearm planted firmly against the kid's jaw, and he wasn't letting go. Nick Alexander was on all fours sucking wind as he tried to escape the grasp. The show was just a few hours from then and Nick was one of a few guys that paid some money each week to get a little training. But this time it was Greg running the shop, and Greg was a certifiable nightmare when it came to dealing with new blood.
"Ya can't get outta that, can ya? HUH? C'MON AND TRY."
Nick strained and wiggled and tried to slip out of Greg's grip. Greg rolled forward on him again.
"Alright tap out and I'll let ya go."
Nick kept struggling. Greg slipped his forearm down his neck and pulled back hard enough to close his windpipe. Nick choked and slapped the mat with his hand. Greg kept the hold on tight.
"See this.....THIS IS WHY YOU ROOKS AIN'T EVEN CLOSE TO MY LEVEL YET."
The rest of the guys that paid their twenty five bucks for a one hour training session on a Saturday afternoon stood and watched and re-thought what they wanted to do with their lives as Greg finally let go of the hold. When he came up to his feet he decided that wasn't good enough and started to stomp Nick in the side of the head and face. One of the other wrestlers finally had to push him off.
"That's enough." The Walrus got down on one knee to check on him. Greg snorted and rolled out of the ring to grab a beer.
"Clean him up and get him outta here. I gotta run ropes."
Nick pushed The Walrus off. His nose was drizzling blood onto his top lip.
"Is that all you got old man?"
Greg paused with his lips against the rim of his beer can, suds draining down his fist. He turned to look at Nick and without a word rolled up into the ring to start throwing fists at him again, can still in hand, a spray of yellow foam spraying the air with each connection. Nick stumbled and fell back into the ropes and took every punch until Greg got pulled off again. The Walrus was almost seven feet tall and he carried the weight of a dying star in his gut. He shoved Greg into the corner effortlessly but the ramblin' man no sold it and sat down to drank what was left of his beer.
"You're an asshole."
The Walrus tutted and shoved his shirt back into his pants. Greg shrugged it off. Nick limped his way through the ropes to the floor. "Serves him right. I ain't a schoolteacher. I'm a fuckin' champ-EEN. I didn't sign up to babysit. GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE." Greg waved him off and was pretty much content with how he handled that.
The next week Nick was the only person that came back, but it wasn't for a training seminar because Greg had fucked all that up when someone called the state about his tactics and now they weren't allowed to run them anymore. After the saturday night show, Greg was walking through the parking lot still covered in a sticky film of sweat dragging his bag behind him. Nick caught his elbow and pulled him back and Greg almost hauled off and knocked him out.
"You're my only way in."
Greg lowered his fist and sneered down at the hand. He wrenched his arm away. "How the fuck you figure that carp?!"
"Because I came to learn from the best."
"Yeah well I'm the best but you ain't gonna hear shit from me."
Nick gripped Greg's arm again before he could walk away. Greg shoved him back.
"Please. I'll pay you double what I was paying for the seminars. And I can ref in the meantime, free of charge. I've got money."
"Oh ain't you fancy?" Greg rolled the fat mound of chew around to his other cheek and squinted at him. "You really want a job, huh? You really wanna work here?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Alright. I'll get you a job."
"Are you serious?" Nick pushed his hair back. His eyes lit up.
"Sure as shit kid. You're my new baggage handler." Greg hefted his heavy bag up and threw it into Nick's chest. "Now follow me ya stupid fuck. We're goin' out."
The crowd was thick at the bar. When Greg walked in all eyes were on him. The patrons that recognized him roared! Greg held up double bullhorns and waded through them all with his chin up high.
"Make way, make way, for the N DOUBLE YOU A CHAMP!!!!! I said move whore!!!!!" Greg elbowed a big titted girl out of his way and slapped his taped up palms on the countertop. "GIMMIE A LAGER.....AND GIVE THE KID A WATER." Nick was behind him the whole time. Greg turned and ruffled his hair and everybody laughed at the doe eyed punk. Nick bit his bottom lip but said nothing.
The rest of the night was mostly a blur, but at one point Greg was on the pool table wielding a cue like Conan's sword. He pissed on the jukebox. Nick just sat off to the side and watched, and he still said nothing. Greg felt up some titties. He smashed a beer bottle over someone's head. After finally getting dragged out he charged back in and hit the bouncer with a right hook so hard that it dislocated the man's retina and he ended trying to sue Greg over the course of the next three years for it. Eventually the man was fairly compensated and the case helped sink Greg into a further pit of financial ruin. And when the police came to pick him up that night, the whole way to the car Greg shouted "ATTICA! ATTICA!" at the top of his lungs. But it wasn't until he was alone inside of that tiny cell as the promotion was packing up to move on to the next town that Greg knew he was in some shit.
"I'm sorry Greg but I don't have the money. I can't bail you out again."
Greg laughed in disbelief holding the questionable prison payphone against a cauliflowerd ear. "Come on Rick. I'm the champ.....you're just fuckin' with me.....YOU NEED TO GET ME OUTTA HERE OR YOU CARD IS FUCKED!!!!"
"It's a non issue. I'll just put the belt on someone else."
"Now hold on a god damn second....you can't do that....you can't do that shit to me. I'm the man."
"I can and I did. It's already done. You need to clean yourself up. Maybe a week in the pokey'll do you some good. Besides that I've been thinking lately about going in a different direction.....and this was my wake up call I guess. Don't tell me that you haven't noticed your deflating pops recently. I'm sorry man.....I really am because we go way back-"
Greg smashed the receiver to bits and left the remaming part dangling there as he sank down to the floor with his face in his hands.
The next morning Greg woke up to the sound of bars sliding open. The guard motioned with his head and Greg followed in his piss stained pants. SNA was there and followed him out the door after his discharge. Greg snorted at him as he walked without acknolwedging him much further.
"Not even a thank you?"
"Didn't ask ya to bail me, kid." Greg fumbled for his car keys. "How far away from the bar are we?"
"Yeah well no one else was going to do it you cranky old fuck. Maybe I should have let you rot instead."
Greg spun. Nick stood his ground with his hands in his hoodie pockets.
"Listen ta me-"
"No you listen to me you washed up cunt. You aren't going to talk down to me anymore. I used to be a fan but it turns out all those stories about wrestlers being a fucking wreck in real life was true. Well that ain't gonna be me. You can swear at me and knock me out again but I'm never gonna end up like you. SO IF YOU WANNA HIT ME FOR BAILING YOU OUT OF JAIL GO AHEAD AND DO IT!!!!!!"
Greg stared. His teeth clenched. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and sighed. The kid was right.
"You wanna get a beer or somethin then? It's on me."
"I don't drink. You can buy me lunch instead."
Nick tilted his chin up as Greg continued the walk to his car. That afternoon they ate at a local Denny's and for the first time, Greg treated Nick like an actual human being.
"Talk that yang kid."
Nick felt like he'd been scraped off the bottom of someone's shoe. Greg had finally gotten him up and moving and dragged him off to the hotel gym. Greg plopped down on the bench with a beer and cracked it.
"I have a fucking headache."
"C'mon. Speak on these assholes."
Nick spat on the floor.
"I should be in bed right now."
"It'll help."
Nick began to hit the heavy bag. The pounding in his temples never ceased.
"Heard you worked at a dock between bingo hall paydays Waylon. Is that the best you could do after killing yourself in front of all those people for all those years you stupid fuck? BEING EXTREME IS SO FUCKING DEAD YOU OUT OF TOUCH RELIC THAT OWEN HART PASSED IT ON THE WAY DOWN AND HE SAID WOW....THAT IS FUCKING DEAD."
Nick started to hit the bag harder. Greg studied him and licked the rim of his beer can before guzzling half of it down.
"But people like you won't let it die.....old broken down chair swinging assholes without a bit of talent in their shredded up bodies keep coming keep back for more.....YOU KEEP PUTTING ON YOUR BLOODLETTING MID CARD SHOW FOR THESE PEOPLE LIKE A CLOWN AT INTERMISSION....gotta make sure the kids don't fall asleep!!!! GOTTA MAKE SURE THEY STICK AROUND FOR THE MAIN EVENT STARS LIKE NICK ALEXANDER!!!!! You are a fucking PEBBLE IN THE ROAD.....ONE THAT I'M GOING TO KICK ASIDE AS I WALK STRAIGHT THE FUCK IN TO THE MAIN EVENT!!!!! The Underground title is the biggest rib in wrestling.....WHOEVER HAS IT THINKS THEY'RE HOT SHIT UNTIL THEY FIND OUT EVERYONE'S RIPPING THEM BEHIND THEIR BACK....but nobody's laughing at me.....NOBODY'S SCOFFING AT THE PIECE OF PAPER I'VE GOT THAT GIVES ME A SHOT AT A BIGGER BELT ANYTIME I WANT......ONE MATCH IN THE COMPANY AND I'M ALREADY IN LINE TO DO SO MUCH MORE!!!!! If someone could pin me for my case they'd be coming in droves.....THE SHIT'S LOCKED UP NOW BUT EVERYONE WISHED THEY HAD WHAT I GOT.....BUT WAYLON KREW....WAYLON KREW IS A DINOSAUR THAT SOMEHOW SNUCK PAST EXTINCTION....WELL ASSHOLE YOUR TIME IS UP BECAUSE NICK ALEXANDER AIN'T LAYING DOWN FOR ANYBODY AND I'M ABOUT TO KILL ONE OF THE LAST OF AN ALREADY DEAD FUCKING BREED!!!!!!"
"You came back here with the specific intent of winning a belt that nobody gives a shit about.....YOU DID CHRIS A FAVOR WHEN YOU STOLE THAT TITLE FROM HIM WAYLON!!!!! Because that dickhead for all the phony pomp that he is is moving ON....I'm moving UP.....and all I have to do is make a pit stop and put old yeller out of his fucking misery on the way. You think you're gonna get "hardcore" on me? I think you've got a real fucking problem on your hands you washed up ZERO....go back to hauling boxes of shit for other people that you can't afford because you're A FUCKING NOBODY WITH NO TALENT AND NOTHING TO OFFER OTHER THAN YOUR BLOOD.....ME I'M A WINNER PAL!!!!! I'M A GOD DAMN SUPERNOVA OF FUCKING TALENT I AM A GOD IN THAT RING.....AND I'M GOING TO MAKE SURE YOU REMEMBER THE INITIALS S N A WHEN I SACRICIFCE YOU TO MY AMBITION!!!!! WHILE YOUR BIGGEST PROBLEM IS FINDING SOMETHING TO EAT.....mine is deciding which fucking house I should move in to by the end of the month, the ranch in Texas or the Spanish colonial overlooking the Atlantic ocean. Yeah....I'D SAY I'M BETTER THAN YOU IN EVERY CONCEIVABLE WAY!!!!!!"
"But here's the kicker.....I have to fight a woman too. BECAUSE GOD KNOWS THEY JUST GOTTA MAKE THE ASS WHIPPINGS EQUAL AROUND HERE!!!! El Pablo I suggest you tie your bitch up to a post.....CINCH THAT LEASH REAL TIGHT BECAUSE IF SHE BREAKS FREE I PROMISE YOU I'M GONNA SEND HER BACK IN A WHEELCHAIR!!!!! I've got no problem putting a woman on the shelf. I HAVE NO PROBLEM DOING WHAT IT TAKES TO GET TO THE TOP WHERE I BELONG.....AND WHILE YOUR ONE NOTE JOKE OF A FUCKING WANNABE GIMMICK CONTINUES SINKING I'M OVER HERE SHOOTING UP SO FAST I GOT THE BENDS.....AND EVEN THEN I'D STILL WIPE THE MAT WITH A SLUT THAT'S A FOOT SHORTER AND ABOUT A HUNDRED POUNDS LIGHTER THAN I AM....IT'S GONNA BE LIKE WRESTLING ONE OF THESE BACKSTAGE FUCKERS. NO CONTEST!!!!! NO REMORSE!!!!! You know why I keep fucking staff that don't matter? Because I can. And that's all. THAT IS THE ONLY REASON I DO WHAT I DO.....AND YOU THINK I'M GOING TO TAKE IT ANY EASIER ON A WOMAN?! ESPECIALLY THE DUMBFUCK GIRLFRIEND OF A RETARD COMEDY ACT AND I USE THAT TERM SO VERY LOOSELY THAT COULDN'T LACE MY BOOTS.....CRISTAL......FOCUS.....IN......WHORE!!!!!!! "SHOWTIME" JUST AIN'T A NICKNAME.....WHEN I COME OUT FROM BEHIND THAT DIRTY CURTAIN THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT IT IS.....WHEN I START BEATING FUCKING ASS AND MAKING YOU ALL WISH YOU'D SIGNED UP TO BE A TIMEKEEPER INSTEAD OF THROW DOWN.....THAT'S SHOWTIME!!!!!! WHEN THESE PEOPLE HATE MY GUTS BUT CAN'T HELP THEMSELVES FROM POPPING A SWEET SPOT DUE TO THE FACT THAT I AM UNMATCHED IN ATHLETICISM IN THAT RING.....THAT IS FUCKING SHOWTIME!!!!!! And when Cristal wants a match on next week's show that's Blowtime. That's how you got here but you're not gonna like what you ended up with THIS TIME.
You're not going to make it in a man's world Cristal. Let it go. JUST STAND BY AT RINGSIDE AND CHEER ON YOUR MAN AND TRY TO LOOK PRETTY UNDERNEATH THAT CUM STAINED PAPER BAG.....BECAUSE YOU DON'T WANT ANY OF ME!!!!! I USED TO SLAP MY EX WIFE AROUND WHEN SHE GOT MOUTHY WITH ME AND I LOVED HER TO DEATH.....WHAT DO YOU THINK'S GONNA HAPPEN TO YOU WHEN YOU'RE IN THE WAY OF ME GETTING OVER?! Bad things you fucking BITCH.....VERY BAD THINGS. I don't know why you keep sticking me in there with bullshit coed filler Manning.....YOU AIN'T GONNA HAVE ANY EYE CANDY LEFT YOU STUPID FUCK!!!!!!
"Cool." Greg pushed himself up and crushed the can in his hand. "Feel better?" Nick whapped the bag one more time and then held it steady, bending to pick up his towel.
"Yeah, I do. I'm gonna fuck them both up." Nick held a fist out that Greg pounded back with his own. "You wanna get another beer?"
"How about we get somethin' to eat instead? To think that you never used to touch the sauce...."
Nick wiped his face with the towel and spit again. "Bullshit Tex. I've been drinking since I slid out of the womb."
Greg snorted and slapped Nick's back as they walked on. The woman that had been on the eliptical just a few feet away the entire time just stared at them in awe.
Because I owe him that much. Because he's my friend. That's why. He has all the talent in the world and I'll be god damned if I let him waste it like I did. When no one else gave a shit about me he did. And I'm returnin' the favor. And when this kid is on....lord, you better watch out.
The most dangerous man that you haven't even met yet.
SNA is GOD.
Message edited by SNA - Thursday, 2011/07/07, 3:18 PM |
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