| SouthernExpress | Date: Friday, 2011/08/26, 9:39 PM | Message # 1 |
 Development
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 12
Status: Offline
| A black 1967 Cadillac Eldorado pulls up to an American Legion hall. Red Fitzgerald slowly get out of the driver side door, assisted by his cane. Bobby Rose hops out of the passenger side as Jimmy Lane slides out the back seat after Red. Bobby looks at the building and just shakes his head.
Bobby: Really Red, really?
Red: Bobby, like I told you on the way over here, we made a commitment to do this before you boys signed with the EWA. I have never backed out of a commitment my whole career, and I ain’t starting today. Got it Bobby?
Bobby: I know Red, but an autograph signing with all these old bastards? We are better than this, man.
Red: We might be Bobby, but a few months back, we needed the money. Don’t forget, it wasn’t too long ago that you and Jimmy were sharing that double wide down in Alabama and living on food stamps.
Bobby: All right Red, I got it.
Jimmy runs up and pats Bobby on the back.
Jimmy: You never know Bobby, we might get to see some of our old friends.
Bobby rolls his eyes.
Bobby: OK Jimmy, let’s head in.
Red opens the door and motions for Bobby and Jimmy to head inside.
Red: Boys, there should be a table for you guys somewhere. Just pop a squat and put on a happy face. I’ll be waiting in the car.
Bobby and Jimmy make their way through the hall, passing retired wrestlers already seated at their tables. Each wrestler has stacks of photos, DVDs, and t-shirts placed in front of them, ready to sign and sell. As the Southern Express pass by each table, Jimmy points to them and calls out their names. Bobby follows behind, muttering under his breath.
Jimmy: Look Bobby, it’s the Chain Gang from the SEWA.
The Chain Gang both nod at Jimmy in unison.
Bobby: Assholes.
Jimmy: And there, it’s the Communist Connection.
They salute Jimmy and Bobby.
Bobby: Commie pricks.
Jimmy: Oh, it’s Danny ‘The Natural’ Rogers.
Danny winks at Jimmy.
Bobby: Closest homo.
Jimmy: And Susie Mae from TCW.
Susie Mae blows a kiss to Jimmy.
Bobby: Whore.
Jimmy: And there’s Lonnie from the Costal Express.
Lonnie, confined to a wheel chair after his stroke, still has the energy to glare at Bobby.
Bobby: Vindictive son of a bitch.
Jimmy: Oh, and there’s Betsy Bell.
Betsy smiles and waves to Bobby. Bobby cringes and waves back.
Jimmy: Bobby, you were right about her needing a crowbar to get back in her daisy dukes.
Betsy stops smiling and flips Bobby off. Bobby smacks Jimmy upside his head.
Jimmy: Damn Bobby, that smarts.
Jimmy pauses and put his arm out to stop Bobby.
Bobby: What the hell Jimmy.
Jimmy: Bobby, it’s the Moore Brothers.
The Moore Brothers spot Jimmy. They start pointing to their stomachs, motioning getting a shot to the stomach for rabies and start to laugh.
Jimmy: I hate those bastards!
Bobby: I know Jimmy, but you got to stay calm.
Jimmy: All right Bobby.
Just as Bobby and Jimmy pass the Moore Brothers, Jimmy begins to lunge across the table.
Jimmy: You inbreed, crossed eyed fuckers!
The Moore Brothers lean back in their chairs to avoid Jimmy. Before he can to too far, Bobby grabs him and pulls him back.
Bobby: Jimmy, it ain’t worth it. Remember, he have a title match just a few days away. We don‘t need you getting hurt..
Jimmy takes a few deep breathes.
Jimmy: You’re right Bobby, let’s go.
Bobby looks back at the Moore Brothers, who are still laughing.
Bobby: Don’t you fat fucks have a sister to go double team or something. Keep it in the family, you back water retards.
The Moore Brothers stop laughing and stare Bobby down. Bobby just flashes a smile back at them and flips them off as he makes his way to his table.
Jimmy: Here we are Bobby. Look, they have our new DVD here, some t-shirts, some bandanas. This could be fun Bobby.
Bobby: OK Jimmy, sit down so we can get this over with.
A few moments later, the wrestling fans start to file in. Each of them moving around the room, stopping at each wrestle’s table collecting autographs and photos. A few hours go by and the room starts to empty out, with just a few fans lingering. The last fan to makes his way to the table of the Southern Express. He is over weight, long hair hanging down in his face, dressed in all black, including a Cradle of Filth t-shirt.
Bobby: Christ, one of these weirdoes.
Jimmy: Bobby, be nice. We have to appreciate all of our fans. Even if they are a bit different.
The fan steps up to the table.
Jimmy: What can we do for you? Autographed DVD? A ‘72 Time Tag Team Champions’ t-shirt? A photo with me and Bobby?
Fan: I just wanted to tell you guys you don’t stand a chance against the Mayhems. They are going to destroy you.
Bobby: Oh really? And why is that smart guy?
The fan rubs his chin, mockingly.
Fan: Where do I begin…they are bigger than you. They are stronger than you. They are younger than you. They are just plain better than you.
Bobby gets up from his chair and sticks his finger in the chest of the fan.
Bobby: You listen here, Rocky Horror Picture Show! Jakob and Ezra maybe be bigger, stronger and younger than Jimmy and I, but there is no way in hell they are better than the Southern Express when it comes to tag team wrestling!
The fan turns and begins to walk away.
Fan: Whatever grandpa. Have fun getting your butt kicked at Rising From the Flames. I’ll be watching, laughing and saying I told you so.
The fan just keeps walking as Bobby shouts at him.
Bobby: You know what buddy, I feel sorry for you. I’m sorry your daddy didn’t love you enough so you have to dress like some undead queer. Why do you just go home, listen to your Goth music and jerk off to pictures of vampires in your mommy’s basement!
All the wrestlers in the room stop and stare at Bobby. Bobby shrugs his shoulders.
Bobby: What?
Just then Red walks up behind Bobby, puts both hands on Bobby’s shoulders and pushes him back down into his seat.
Red: Damn it Bobby, that’s enough!
Bobby: What Red? The kid had it coming.
Red: Had it coming? It was a kid Bobby…a kid! You know what, I think it’s time to go. You boys need to get rested up for your title match.
Jimmy: We still have some stuff left to sell and sign Red.
Red: Don’t worry about it. I’ll get someone to box it up. We can sell the rest of it on the website or something.
Jimmy: Website? We have a website???
Bobby rolls his eyes.
Bobby: Come on Jimmy, let’s get the hell out of here.
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