| SNA | Date: Thursday, 2011/05/26, 11:13 AM | Message # 1 |
 Curtain Jerker
Group: EWA Roster
Messages: 63
Status: Offline
| SNA opened the door to his hotel room, shirtless, holding a beer bottle in a death grip. The Texas Ramblin' Man stood at the other side, long leather duster down to his cowboy boots. His cowboy hat was tilted forward to protect from the sun, but he hadn't pushed it back up on the chance that he would have to actually look at Nick.
"Well I'll be god damned if East Texas didn't show up after all," Nick said. "Haven't answered my calls in a long time, Greggy."
"Been busy." He finally lifted his head to look him over. Nick's beard had gotten all sorts of overgrown, which he had never let happen as far as Greg could remember.
"You need a beer? A pill or anything?" Nick asked him bluntly.
"No," Greg shot back.
After a moment of staring at The Ramblin' Man in amusement, Nick moved to the side to let him in. The hotel room was trashed. Clothes strewn about and empty bottles knocked over like spent bowling pins. A girl in pink fishnets sat slumped in the leather recliner staring ahead at the TV like an oversize porcelain doll. Nick used his foot to kick one of his shirts out of the way.
"This is real nice Nick," Greg said as he looked for a place to sit that wouldn't catch him anything that would make his pee burn before deciding to remain on his feet. Nick jumped and plopped down on the edge of the queen sized bed.
"Just 'cuz you're too old to know how to party don't mean you can shoot on me old man." Nick guzzled the rest of his beer and then leaned forward to place it on the carpet, his lips pursed as he held the end of the swill in his mouth.
"Oh yeah? How many people came to your party last night?"
Nick swallowed and smiled as his hand lifted to lazily wipe his bottom lip, "Last night? We just started this morning Tex. You're my second guest." He cackled and cocked his hand at Greg in the shape of a gun, silently pulling the trigger and blowing the smoke from his pointer finger.
"I ain't stayin' long kid." Greg moved his hands to the front of himself, locking them together.
"And why would I think any different?" Nick glanced at the doll in the leather chair. She only moved to flick the remainder of her long burnt away cigarette into the ashtray. Nick looked back at The Ramblin' Man with a little grin. Tex knew what he meant and shut that down immediately with a firm shake of his head.
"I don't know why you would, seein' as how we ain't friends, and haven't been in a long time. You're a fuckin' nutjob and I ain't havin' no more part in your self destruction."
"Oh ... oh Tex don't say that ... oh please! Oh god, no!" Nick fell into fake sobs, his face in his hands. "You're right, I need so much help, there's nowhere else I can turn ... help me, please, before I turn into another statistic!" He continued wailing for another few moments as Greg stared at him quietly and waited for him to finish. "Get real," Nick sat back up, "I don't need to hear anymore of your fucking life lessons. I have a new contract."
"Someone hired you?" Greg shot back dryly.
"Fucking right they did. You're looking at the newest member of the EWA roster. Buncha the boys from CEW are there too. And you're hitting the road with me!"
Nick pushed himself off the edge of the bed and bounded into the bathroom before Tex could get it all out, "Wait a minute, wh-" the door slammed shut and Greg sat there quietly, finally looking toward the burned out woman in the chair. She was actually smiling now, at something happening on the TV. Nick came back out of the bathroom pulling a light blue dress shirt on over his shoulders.
"Yeah. You're coming with. I can get you a manager's contract or some shit. You don't even have to be on TV all that much, or at ringside like at all. Just....gimmie a hand once in a while." Nick smiled as he began to button the shirt up.
"A hand with what? 'Cuz I been holdin' it for a long time and I told you I ain't doin' it anymore."
"Look," Nick buttons, and then unbuttons the last one, leaving it open and exposing his sun beaten chest "I need someone watching my back. I got all the talent in the world but I can't do this thing alone."
"You want me to get in there and wrestle your matches for you? You know my knees are shot to shit." Greg mused.
"I want to win my matches, don't I? No, I don't want you wrestling for me you old coot I just need someone to hang around in the back and make sure I don't get fucking ganked. Besides, what else've you got going on?"
Greg stared at him for a moment too long as he scrambled to find an answer that might make it seem like he did. Greg was retired, and his life was just fine if not a little boring. He always had the itch to come back, though. Nick nodded knowingly and smiled again.
"Exactly. You're coming with me."
"Nick, I appreciate the offer, but - "
"Did I stutter?!" Nick shouted back at him, loud and angry, so loud that the girl in the chair jumps a bit.
"Don't raise your fuckin' voice at me kid I'll knock your dick in the dirt."
"What are you gonna do about it?!" Nick was suddenly across the room and in Tex's face. Greg moved to defend himself, but Nick was already shoving him against the door. After a brief staredown, Nick lifted his hands again to fix Tex's collar, his smile returning.
"I ... I need you Tex. I need someone ... you know I don't have any other friends ... I haven't even had you in a long time. Please."
No response.
"Please."
Nothing.
"Please, Greg."
Nick was now giving him a much more sorrowful look. Greg worked his jaw and huffed and sighed and rolled his eyes and did everything he could to show that he didn't give a shit, but that just wasn't true. As many problems as Nick had given him and everybody else over the years, "Showtime" was still the bright eyed punk that Greg had taken under his wing all those years ago. And Nick knew that, and he was exploiting the old man's feelings for him as much as he could.
"Fine." Greg said, his throat cracking. "Fine I'll hang with you for a bit. But you better stop givin' me an attitude. And don't fuckin' touch me like that again." Greg shoved Nick back, which seemed to delight him as he raised his fists and mockingly rolled them around like a boxer from the depression before slapping Greg's arm with a laugh.
"Fuckin' A! FUCKING A. I knew you'd come through! You hear that, whore? Me and the old man, together again, riding up and down the road like a couple of nasty ol' outlaws! Fuck it feels good to know you again, Greg." Nick clamped an extra tight hug around Greg's neck that was eventually returned with a firm pat to the back.
"Gimmie a call soon, then."
"I will. Next show's on the sixth, we'll hook up before then."
"Sounds good. And hey. Lay off the fuckin' pills."
Nick held a hand to his heart, while his other shot up like a cub scout taking a pledge.
"We done here?" Greg asked.
"Yeah, yeah for sure. Here," Nick moved to open the door for him. "I'll hit you up tomorrow and we'll start working it out. Get excited, old man. GET EXCITED!"
"My heart's a flutter and my toes're curlin'." With that, Tex dipped his head and pulled the brim of his hat back down, moving without another word through the doorway and into the hall. Nick watched until he was out of sight, and then turned back to the poor girl still slumped in her seat.
"Why are you still here?"
She finally looked up at him. Her mascara and the rest of her makeup was a mess, and her dirty blonde hair hung so limply in her face that it looked as if she had just come in from the rain. Without giving her the chance to answer, Nick shot across the room and grabbed her up by the hair with a single hand, dragging her out of the chair. She yelp'ed pathetically and grabbed at his wrist.
"Get the fuck out of here! Embarrassing me in front of my oldest fucking friend, get the fuck out!" He swiftly kicked her in the rear end, producing another whiny cry from her chest as he clumsily pulled her toward the open door and then shoved her into the hallway. Once she crumpled to the carpet, he slammed the door and turned back around, absolutely seething. He dug into his pocket and pulled a tiny pill out, blowing the lint off before popping it. Nick didn't even hear the sound of the girl swearing at him and pounding on the door with her fist, screaming something about her purse and him owing her money, as he walked back into the main part of the room.
The most dangerous man that you haven't even met yet.
SNA is GOD.
Message edited by SNA - Friday, 2011/05/27, 6:32 PM |
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