Post by Deleted on Jul 21, 2011 15:14:05 GMT -5
Inhale…exhale. A cloud of smoke goes through Jobber Jim’s nostrils as he stares into space while standing outside of his local gym. The newcomer just went through a strenuous work out of crunches, pull ups, jumping jacks and anything else he could think of to prepare him for his first match in WFWF. The thought of getting into the ring in front of all of those people sends goose bumps down Jim’s spine. While thinking about his match, Jim exhales a cloud of smoke into the night sky. The wrestler then drops the Newport on the ground and puts it out with his shoe. That was his fortieth cigarette today. Jim always goes through multiple packs when he gets stressed.
The lightweight then starts thinking about how he can actually get a victory out of this match. Should he try sneaking a pair of brass knuckles into the ring? Nah, too sleazy... How about doing nothing, but rollups during the match and hope that he gets lucky? That’s both impractical and frowned upon. Jim sighs and stares at the ground. Perhaps he could win the match through determination and hard work? As if that’s going to happen; Jim spits a loogie on the ground in frustration. The wrestler wishes that there was someone out there that could help him out, someone who could show him the ropes and give him a fighting chance for his first show. Another spit follows after the loogie, but it wasn’t Jim’s.
A bald man with a mustache is a mere two feet away from Jim. The man appears to be well built, but the years have definitely taken a toll on him. Wrinkles are present in his face and his mustache is an ashy grey. The man has definitely been through a lot in life. There is a large bump in his bottom lip. The color of the glob of spit next to hjim also a dark slimy color. Jim stares at the man, in a state of curiosity. It’s like looking at a car crash. You want to look away, but you can’t. The man pulls out a tin of Skoal from his pocket.
Man: Want some? It’ll put hair on your chest... No? Well I didn’t think you were man enough to handle it anyways. However, I can tell by the look in your eyes that you are nervous about something. And before you try interrupting me, just keep in mind. I was in Nam, boy. If you think you can cut in and not give me a chance to speak then you have another thing coming. Now back to what I was saying. You look pretty damn tense and normally I would just ignore it, but then I took another look at you… I know you from somewhere. It took me a couple of seconds and then it came to me. You’re that newcomer Jobber Jim that I saw in the website. Don’t deny it. I know that you are.
Now listen, I used to wrestle down south in my younger days. They call me Zeke “The Chainsaw” Hull. Man, those were back in the real days. I tell you what. Me and my buddies used to do a line of cocaine before every match. We lived like rock stars. Nowadays, you can’t do that stuff. What with drug testing and all. Now what was I saying before? Oh yeah, I remember… Jim, you have potential. You’re a bit scrawny, but I’ve seen a lot of smaller guys like you shake things up. It’s happened before it can definitely happen again. So before I waste my breath, I have to ask… Are you interested?
Jim: Listen sir, I will be honest. I have never heard of “The Jack Wagon” or whatever you used to call yourself. I’m desperate though. I’m fighting in a dark match against this guy call Bryan James. I looked up this guy and he has everything that I don’t have. He has way more experience, he is taller and he has a good 60 pounds on me. If I don’t think of something soon then I’ll get thrown around the ring like some sort of rag doll. Not to mention, this guy also seems to specialize in hardcore matches. The last thing I need is a set of stitches across my forehead.
Zeke: Bryan James? You mean this guy doesn’t even have a nickname? That’s pathetic! Back in my day, EVERYONE had nicknames. If you didn’t have a nickname then you were a joke. I tell you what kid. We will make a bet, I will bet 50 dollars that I can train you to tip top shape before your match and not only will you stand a fighting chance, but you will also kick that sorry excuse for a wrestler’s ass so hard that that his nickname will become “lace lips”. Deal?
Jim: So I will get paid if I lose? Hey, I can’t argue with those odds. Sure, you’ve got yourself a deal man.
The two men shake hands. Jim is a bit intimidated as Zeke’s hand dwarfs his own. As the deal becomes official, Jim begins to wonder what kind of training Zeke has in mind.
The lightweight then starts thinking about how he can actually get a victory out of this match. Should he try sneaking a pair of brass knuckles into the ring? Nah, too sleazy... How about doing nothing, but rollups during the match and hope that he gets lucky? That’s both impractical and frowned upon. Jim sighs and stares at the ground. Perhaps he could win the match through determination and hard work? As if that’s going to happen; Jim spits a loogie on the ground in frustration. The wrestler wishes that there was someone out there that could help him out, someone who could show him the ropes and give him a fighting chance for his first show. Another spit follows after the loogie, but it wasn’t Jim’s.
A bald man with a mustache is a mere two feet away from Jim. The man appears to be well built, but the years have definitely taken a toll on him. Wrinkles are present in his face and his mustache is an ashy grey. The man has definitely been through a lot in life. There is a large bump in his bottom lip. The color of the glob of spit next to hjim also a dark slimy color. Jim stares at the man, in a state of curiosity. It’s like looking at a car crash. You want to look away, but you can’t. The man pulls out a tin of Skoal from his pocket.
Man: Want some? It’ll put hair on your chest... No? Well I didn’t think you were man enough to handle it anyways. However, I can tell by the look in your eyes that you are nervous about something. And before you try interrupting me, just keep in mind. I was in Nam, boy. If you think you can cut in and not give me a chance to speak then you have another thing coming. Now back to what I was saying. You look pretty damn tense and normally I would just ignore it, but then I took another look at you… I know you from somewhere. It took me a couple of seconds and then it came to me. You’re that newcomer Jobber Jim that I saw in the website. Don’t deny it. I know that you are.
Now listen, I used to wrestle down south in my younger days. They call me Zeke “The Chainsaw” Hull. Man, those were back in the real days. I tell you what. Me and my buddies used to do a line of cocaine before every match. We lived like rock stars. Nowadays, you can’t do that stuff. What with drug testing and all. Now what was I saying before? Oh yeah, I remember… Jim, you have potential. You’re a bit scrawny, but I’ve seen a lot of smaller guys like you shake things up. It’s happened before it can definitely happen again. So before I waste my breath, I have to ask… Are you interested?
Jim: Listen sir, I will be honest. I have never heard of “The Jack Wagon” or whatever you used to call yourself. I’m desperate though. I’m fighting in a dark match against this guy call Bryan James. I looked up this guy and he has everything that I don’t have. He has way more experience, he is taller and he has a good 60 pounds on me. If I don’t think of something soon then I’ll get thrown around the ring like some sort of rag doll. Not to mention, this guy also seems to specialize in hardcore matches. The last thing I need is a set of stitches across my forehead.
Zeke: Bryan James? You mean this guy doesn’t even have a nickname? That’s pathetic! Back in my day, EVERYONE had nicknames. If you didn’t have a nickname then you were a joke. I tell you what kid. We will make a bet, I will bet 50 dollars that I can train you to tip top shape before your match and not only will you stand a fighting chance, but you will also kick that sorry excuse for a wrestler’s ass so hard that that his nickname will become “lace lips”. Deal?
Jim: So I will get paid if I lose? Hey, I can’t argue with those odds. Sure, you’ve got yourself a deal man.
The two men shake hands. Jim is a bit intimidated as Zeke’s hand dwarfs his own. As the deal becomes official, Jim begins to wonder what kind of training Zeke has in mind.