Post by Reasoning through Questioning on Jan 8, 2007 15:45:26 GMT -5
My eyes open slowly as the alarm clock goes off wildly on the table beside my bed.
I hate those d*mn things. So f*ckin loud. But I reckon they have to be loud to get ya up. Petey moans at me to hit the button. He hates ‘em too. I push the button on the clock to stop the very annoying beeping. I throw my head back down into the pillow trying to delay my awakening. I don’t want to get up right now. But I must get up if I want to make it to my match this week. A f*ckin tag match. I hate tag matches. Not like I have a choice to be in it. WFWF does write my checks. I’m not really even sure who they set me up to partner with. I do know my opponents know The High Whore and The Cursed Beagle I think. Something like that. Not like it really matters. Just a bunch of nancy boys that think they can step into the ring with me and walk away. No one walks away. As for my partner, well he better pull his half. I sure as hell don’t feel like doin all the work out there. I think I’ve talked to my self long. I better get dressed. I get dressed and pull some left over pizza out of the mini-fridge and throw a piece to Petey. He gobbles it up in about 2 seconds so I throw him another. Damn dog sure is hungry. I throw a couple of pieces in the microwave. F*ckin pizza for breakfast. I sure do miss My Grannies cookin. Biscuits with some molasses. Bacon and eggs. Some grits. I love it. But no. Instead today I get to enjoy some leftover f*ckin pizza. I sure love livin on the road. I finish eating long after Petey is done and pack up the rest of my stuff, head out the door. I toss my bag into the back of my truck and open the passenger door so Petey can jump into his spot. He gets in and I close the door and I walk around and get in and crank the truck. It roars to life and I put it in drive and head down the road to merge onto the highway. I’m already runnin behind. With a lot of luck I’ll get there early. With some luck I’ll get there on time. Petey licks the window and looks at me. I know what he wants. I roll down the window and he sticks his head out and lets his ears flop in the wind. Crazy dog. I don’t know how he holds himself in. I’m goin about 90mph.
Malice: You sure are a crazy damn dog Petey.
Petey: Bark (what?)
Malice: I said you’re crazy.
Petey: Woof (Ok, well so are you.)
Malice: Can you believe I’m in a tag match this week. What the hell is that? I ‘m a solo artist. I work best alone.
Petey: Wuff (Quit complaining you big wimp.)
Malice: I’m glad you see things my way.
Petey: Woof, Woof (I’m glad your completely ignorant to what I really say 90% of time.)
My phone rings and feels quite nice. It’s on vibrate mode and I have it in my pants pocket. I reach into my pocket and pull it out and hit the speaker phone button so I can sit it on the seat in between me and Petey. Makes driving a lot easier.
Malice: Hello. Who the hell is it?
Man: Hey Johnny. How ya doin? Hell of a way to talk to yer cousin Hank.
Malice: Well Hank if you noticed I asked who it was. So therefore I didn’t know who it was. That means I didn’t’ know it was you. What do you want? I’m in a hurry.
Hank: Well I’m glad you got time to talk to family. Think you’re all high and mighty cause you’re a wrestler still. If it wouldn’t have been for the drinkin I’d still be a wrestler too. Speakin of drinkin that’s why I’m callin you. I need a favor.
Malice: What have you gotten yourself in this time? I’m hope you ain’t pissed off a bunch of bikers down at Dwayne’s again. I’m too far away to help you if that’s the case.
Hank: No that’s not it. I need bailed out. I was driving last night and I got pulled over. I guess I was swerving a little from what I remember the deputy sayin.
Malice: So what you’re tellin me is your dumb*ss was driving drunk and got pulled over. Well I’m glad you learned your lesson the first time. What is this 10 now? You know the only reason your not in prison yet is because of our last name. Why do you keep getting in so much sh*t and then expect me to keep fixin it. One day I’m gonna stop. I think it might be today. Give the phone to the deputy beside you so I can to talk to him.
Hank: Please Johnny you gotta get me out I’m gonna lose my job. Please.
Malice: Not my problem Hank. You don’t have a job anyway.
Hank: I know I thought that might work.
Malice: Give the phone to the deputy. I need to talk to him.
Hank: Alright Johnny. I’ll see ya later.
Malice: Bye Hank.
Deputy: Hey Johnny. How ya been?
Malice: Well, I’ve had better days. What the hell did Hank do?
Deputy: Well I found a bottle of Jack in the floor on the passenger side. I reckon he drank all that and whatever he had at the bar. Then he decided it was a good idea to drive. We got him before he got too far. We sit and wait on em to leave from Dwayne’s. We usually get anywhere from 5 to 10 or more every weekend. And Hank is one of em more times than not. It’s gonna be about $2,000 this time. Sheriff is getting tired of this. He’s thinkin about sending him up to the State Pen for a while.Maybe that’ll set him straight.
Malice: Maybe. I told him his luck is gonna run out. I’ll send a money order out tomorrow. Keep him there for about a week before you let him go. He needs some time sober up. Once he enjoys that food for a week he might think a little better. Maybe for a little while anyway. Well I’m gonna get off here. I’ll see ya’ll when I make it back. Have a good one.
Deputy: Alright Johnny. We’ll see ya.
Malice: That was Hank. He got thrown in jail. Drunk driving.
Petey: Bark (What a surprise. He’s a damn idiot.)
Malice: $2,000 bail. He’s gonna break me.
Petey: Wuff (That’s your own fault, dummy.)
Malice: Well enough about that I have to think about my match and concentrate on getting there on time.
I pop in my George Strait C.D. and make my way down the road. Getting closer and closer. Gonna be fun beating the hell out of somebody this week. Getting paid to do it at that. I need to take out my frustration on somebody. Hank’s driving me crazy. Petey sticks his head out the window and lets his tongue hang out. That dog loves the wind. I hope there’s a descent steak house where I’m headin. I ‘m gonna be hungry as hell when I get there. I turn up the volume on the radio and drift off into the song and start to think about my match some more. Joe Kessen ! Now I remember. That’s who my tag partner is gonna be. Not two bad. We both need this win. Have to get it if I ever expect to get off the House Show. You ain’t getting any poon stuck on the House Show. The Cursed Beagle and The High Whore. Two unlucky people with unfortunate futures… Getting their day at work ended by some Southern Hospitality or something else of equal pain. I’m not sure if I’ll get tanked before the match… might make it more of a fair fight. The road stretches in front me seeming like forever. I crank up the radio and embrace my closest friends… the road and the radio.
O.O.C. : Tell me what ya think. I really need to know so I can build on what needs building on and improve. I feel I could have used more description but I'm just getting back into Rping mode so It'll work it's self out in time I guess. Comments welcome and wanted.
I hate those d*mn things. So f*ckin loud. But I reckon they have to be loud to get ya up. Petey moans at me to hit the button. He hates ‘em too. I push the button on the clock to stop the very annoying beeping. I throw my head back down into the pillow trying to delay my awakening. I don’t want to get up right now. But I must get up if I want to make it to my match this week. A f*ckin tag match. I hate tag matches. Not like I have a choice to be in it. WFWF does write my checks. I’m not really even sure who they set me up to partner with. I do know my opponents know The High Whore and The Cursed Beagle I think. Something like that. Not like it really matters. Just a bunch of nancy boys that think they can step into the ring with me and walk away. No one walks away. As for my partner, well he better pull his half. I sure as hell don’t feel like doin all the work out there. I think I’ve talked to my self long. I better get dressed. I get dressed and pull some left over pizza out of the mini-fridge and throw a piece to Petey. He gobbles it up in about 2 seconds so I throw him another. Damn dog sure is hungry. I throw a couple of pieces in the microwave. F*ckin pizza for breakfast. I sure do miss My Grannies cookin. Biscuits with some molasses. Bacon and eggs. Some grits. I love it. But no. Instead today I get to enjoy some leftover f*ckin pizza. I sure love livin on the road. I finish eating long after Petey is done and pack up the rest of my stuff, head out the door. I toss my bag into the back of my truck and open the passenger door so Petey can jump into his spot. He gets in and I close the door and I walk around and get in and crank the truck. It roars to life and I put it in drive and head down the road to merge onto the highway. I’m already runnin behind. With a lot of luck I’ll get there early. With some luck I’ll get there on time. Petey licks the window and looks at me. I know what he wants. I roll down the window and he sticks his head out and lets his ears flop in the wind. Crazy dog. I don’t know how he holds himself in. I’m goin about 90mph.
Malice: You sure are a crazy damn dog Petey.
Petey: Bark (what?)
Malice: I said you’re crazy.
Petey: Woof (Ok, well so are you.)
Malice: Can you believe I’m in a tag match this week. What the hell is that? I ‘m a solo artist. I work best alone.
Petey: Wuff (Quit complaining you big wimp.)
Malice: I’m glad you see things my way.
Petey: Woof, Woof (I’m glad your completely ignorant to what I really say 90% of time.)
My phone rings and feels quite nice. It’s on vibrate mode and I have it in my pants pocket. I reach into my pocket and pull it out and hit the speaker phone button so I can sit it on the seat in between me and Petey. Makes driving a lot easier.
Malice: Hello. Who the hell is it?
Man: Hey Johnny. How ya doin? Hell of a way to talk to yer cousin Hank.
Malice: Well Hank if you noticed I asked who it was. So therefore I didn’t know who it was. That means I didn’t’ know it was you. What do you want? I’m in a hurry.
Hank: Well I’m glad you got time to talk to family. Think you’re all high and mighty cause you’re a wrestler still. If it wouldn’t have been for the drinkin I’d still be a wrestler too. Speakin of drinkin that’s why I’m callin you. I need a favor.
Malice: What have you gotten yourself in this time? I’m hope you ain’t pissed off a bunch of bikers down at Dwayne’s again. I’m too far away to help you if that’s the case.
Hank: No that’s not it. I need bailed out. I was driving last night and I got pulled over. I guess I was swerving a little from what I remember the deputy sayin.
Malice: So what you’re tellin me is your dumb*ss was driving drunk and got pulled over. Well I’m glad you learned your lesson the first time. What is this 10 now? You know the only reason your not in prison yet is because of our last name. Why do you keep getting in so much sh*t and then expect me to keep fixin it. One day I’m gonna stop. I think it might be today. Give the phone to the deputy beside you so I can to talk to him.
Hank: Please Johnny you gotta get me out I’m gonna lose my job. Please.
Malice: Not my problem Hank. You don’t have a job anyway.
Hank: I know I thought that might work.
Malice: Give the phone to the deputy. I need to talk to him.
Hank: Alright Johnny. I’ll see ya later.
Malice: Bye Hank.
Deputy: Hey Johnny. How ya been?
Malice: Well, I’ve had better days. What the hell did Hank do?
Deputy: Well I found a bottle of Jack in the floor on the passenger side. I reckon he drank all that and whatever he had at the bar. Then he decided it was a good idea to drive. We got him before he got too far. We sit and wait on em to leave from Dwayne’s. We usually get anywhere from 5 to 10 or more every weekend. And Hank is one of em more times than not. It’s gonna be about $2,000 this time. Sheriff is getting tired of this. He’s thinkin about sending him up to the State Pen for a while.Maybe that’ll set him straight.
Malice: Maybe. I told him his luck is gonna run out. I’ll send a money order out tomorrow. Keep him there for about a week before you let him go. He needs some time sober up. Once he enjoys that food for a week he might think a little better. Maybe for a little while anyway. Well I’m gonna get off here. I’ll see ya’ll when I make it back. Have a good one.
Deputy: Alright Johnny. We’ll see ya.
Malice: That was Hank. He got thrown in jail. Drunk driving.
Petey: Bark (What a surprise. He’s a damn idiot.)
Malice: $2,000 bail. He’s gonna break me.
Petey: Wuff (That’s your own fault, dummy.)
Malice: Well enough about that I have to think about my match and concentrate on getting there on time.
I pop in my George Strait C.D. and make my way down the road. Getting closer and closer. Gonna be fun beating the hell out of somebody this week. Getting paid to do it at that. I need to take out my frustration on somebody. Hank’s driving me crazy. Petey sticks his head out the window and lets his tongue hang out. That dog loves the wind. I hope there’s a descent steak house where I’m headin. I ‘m gonna be hungry as hell when I get there. I turn up the volume on the radio and drift off into the song and start to think about my match some more. Joe Kessen ! Now I remember. That’s who my tag partner is gonna be. Not two bad. We both need this win. Have to get it if I ever expect to get off the House Show. You ain’t getting any poon stuck on the House Show. The Cursed Beagle and The High Whore. Two unlucky people with unfortunate futures… Getting their day at work ended by some Southern Hospitality or something else of equal pain. I’m not sure if I’ll get tanked before the match… might make it more of a fair fight. The road stretches in front me seeming like forever. I crank up the radio and embrace my closest friends… the road and the radio.
O.O.C. : Tell me what ya think. I really need to know so I can build on what needs building on and improve. I feel I could have used more description but I'm just getting back into Rping mode so It'll work it's self out in time I guess. Comments welcome and wanted.
