Post by veronicaaaahhhh on Sept 7, 2006 10:30:58 GMT -5
Wayne McGurk’s Odium RP- Gone
A thousand miles away, the rash echoes a thousand times louder- Harley lives. Like a bat out of hell, Wayne explodes out of the tunnel; the road before him silent and empty- not for long. God damn it, not for long. Wayne cranks the engine harder, and is pulled away into the night. He swerves towards the middle of the road and follows the yellow lines paved throughout the road like a child on a hopscotch field. Like reefer, hard alcohol, and illegal narcotics, this is fleeting. There’s absolutely nothing else to do. You’ve got everything you can possibly want, but even then, even peace and security isn’t a sure thing; nothing is. You hold on to what you’ve got and make the most of it; a simple key to life Wayne learned at an early age. Sometimes, you just gotta take off; run away. Not for long, just for awhile. It’s inconsiderate and selfish;
that. The fingers who point out your faults would do the same if they were in the same God damned place. Right now, it’s about you. Man, you’ve taken all the **** they could possible throw at you. You deserve sometime alone.
There’s no stopping this now; it’s become aing mad man. Wayne speeds down the empty highway. No switching back, look out into the horizon and accept it for all it is; peace.
Vanessa’s got hurt- You’reing fault. Just like Distance a year ago, you we’re looking after you own ass! You completely ignored her and look what’s happened. What the was I supposed to do? I wasn’t there. You could’ve been. You have a pair of working legs right? Isn’t like your some pathetic little paraplegic. I wasn’t there, I would if I could- that isn’t a good excuse. What the hell do you expect me to say? That I’m ing sorry? Lord only knows I am. I have apologized a million times over, to the point that the term “I’m Sorry” sounds like a crock of ****! I just wish I was right there when he sedated her- I would have saved her and would’ve caught the motherer as he was doing it; catch him right there. If I could have another set of eyes installed to the back of my head I would. She can take care of herself, but to see her like that; helpless. With no way to save her- it hurts. I’ll get mine and he’ll get his. I have the chance to change things; make it all better again. I’ll receive the satisfaction. I’ll receive my satisfaction. She’ll be back. I will receive my satisfaction.
You can’t break me.
What about the gold? Lose it too like the way your about to lose Vanessa. But, Wayne, here’s the difference; the belt can be saved, Vanessa can’t. Take the obvious choice and walk away with what you really want. In the long run, it’ll save you a migraine.
Do you want the belt?
I do.
Do you love your wife?
I do.
Lair.
You!
Wayne thrusts the bike faster. He just doesn’t care.
If you really love her, then you wouldn’t be here.
I need some time alone God damn it! Can’t you just leave me the alone for once? Just once, because I am this close into crashing the bike!
Do it.
I’m deading serious; do not test me. Please don’t.
If you’re that serious, do it.
No.
Do it.
No.
You can’t break me.
You never could; you never can.
Who’s breaking you anyway?
Wayne releases a scream.
Do it…
Come on man, I’m waiting.
ing do it!
No.
Now!
Wayne accelerates the Harley into top speed; the highway quickly dissolving into oblivion. The road, stop signs, and street lights have become nothing more than an obscure Van Gough painting; noir tie die. Wayne releases his right hand away from the breaks; left hand controlling the Harley. Wayne drives his fist into his face and takes a shot. What a sight he must be, a depressedbiker-wrestler speeding down the interstate punching himself in the face. Felt good, but damn it wasn’t good enough. Wayne clutches on tighter, the bike driving faster, and he takes another hit; better. He’s a little dazed, but he manages to shake it off. No matter how hard he hits himself, it ain’t enough. He needs something big; something that will present itself with irrefutable damage, crash. There’s nothing on the road but road; he could swerve the bike recklessly and hope to fall, but that will only do ****; glorified fall. It’s not enough. Wayne peers forward into the ever-coming horizon and spots a phone booth- bingo. Wayne accelerates the Harley faster, he’s so close. The Harley begins to slow, the speedometer’s dropping. No don’t do this, please don’t. Come on, give in. Wayne reaches the phone booth and throws himself out of the bike on instinct. Wayne watches over as the bike stops infront of the phone booth.
Rage suddenly overcomes Wayne. Control yourself, don’t let your emotions overtake you- that. You can handle it- I don’t want to. Wayne grabs the bike, charges forward and crashes it into the phone booth. The bike falls and shards of broken glass explode in every available direction. Wayne reaches in, but the glass cuts him. Doesn’t matter, just continue. Wayne reaches for the receiver and pulls the cord off the machine. Wayne steps back, and like a whip he drives the metallic cord into the bike. Wayne whips the bike again; the now-damaged receiver denting the Harley’s beautiful black frame. Wayne motions around the bike, stomping on the chasse along the way. Wayne drops to booth knees-
Hold back.
He removes his gloves and begins to pound on the bike with his bare-clenched fists. His arms have become a crimson nightmare.
I can do this.
Wayne rises; sweating profusely, he over looks the result of his rampage. Day slowly begins to rise; the sky above melting away in an orange pasture. There’s a time to do this, you’ll get your chance. You know you can feel it- walk away.
Wayne has somewhat calm. A metric weight collides into Wayne; what the hell was it? Wayne lies in the center of the road, vision slightly blurred, and sees a SUV driving ahead of him. Wayne pulls himself to rise, but the morning traffic quickly comes into view. Wayne remains on the ground as a siege of cars begin to drive over him.
Obo, I’ve got to admire you because you can really take a man to his limits and send him unto his very knees. I may have come off as the victor last Sunday, but it certainly seems that you have taken the last laugh. You stabbed the rusty knife through me, and you took hold of my very nerve; the core of Wayne McGurk. You laugh, with that little sadistic grin along your face, and grasped between your hand lies my beating heart; your term of endearment. I am so close to vacating my title for her, but there’s that little voice that flickers on and tells me not to. Selfishly reminding me of how I suffered to get to where I am and to hold that belt. So instead of conjuring a solution, I smoke, and drink, because I just don’t want to face it. I held the belt the other night ready to surrender it, not just because I had to, but also because I want to; a yearning from the very depths of my being. I stood there, and I just couldn’t. So I continued to drink, and drink, and I commiserated in my bedroom, I had realized what an awful person I really am. I looked at my reflection across the mirror with utter disgust, because I could not pick between the two. Even though, the one away from me is the obvious choice. And remember, not a lot of people are comfortable around the notion of a drunken father, with a four year old daughter.
Let me ask you something man, have you ever been around someone you love dearly, someone you’re physically stronger than, and tell yourself: Hey, if I wanted to, I could really hurt this person! Suffocate them while they sleep, trap them inside the refrigerator, or obey every horrible thought that comes through. People don’t say it. They dare not acknowledge it, but we all think of it. I remember when Scarlet was first born; I felt the need to protect her from everything in the world, including myself. I would carry her in my arms as I would cross the street, and I’d be scared, man. What if I dropped her? It was that easy; bought a car the morning after. I go to sleep sometimes with Vanessa and Scarlet wrapped around my arms, protecting them.
Obo, you have withdrawn all the power away from me. I hate you and I really want to kill you. I’ve run out of options. You’ve broken me and so I seek out your guidance. You call the shots; you’re in control. Tell me what to do, and I will comply with it. If you asked, I would wrap a rope around my neck. If they won’t satisfy you, I would gladly light myself in fire. Just do not touch her. Although, I better face the fact that you don’t really give **** what I say or do- but I do, so you.
Just bring her back. Please.
*
As soon as Wayne awoke, he knew he needed to do something. The man doesn’t submit easy, he tries. He tries, he does, and if can’t accomplish it, he tries again. It takes something so sacred to shake a man like that to his very knees. You take away religion, he’ll cling on to it like a martyr, but it doesn’t mean jack ****. You take away something more sacred than religion, like a family parse, then you have his soul. The advantages will be an unlimited yield. But Wayne does know a woman, who actually holds religion above her family, his mother. It isn’t like she’s an Evangelist or a Born Again or anything like that, she’s just a woman devoted to her God.
It’s well about three o’clock in the morning. Even from the inside, Wayne can hear the crashes of rain outside. He needed to get away this time, for real. So he went to the place that made him the man he is: the gym. SoundGarden’s “Loud Love” blasts away from the stereo (a contribution from his old cassette copy of SoundGarden’s Louder Than Love; their first release on a major label) inside the men’s training area; known to the many to tread inside as the Dungeon. It was in the very power rack Wayne stands across, when Wayne’s body and mind was first put to test. He was seventeen (started working out a couple month’s earlier), and he had to do 10x10 (10 reps, ten sets) of a hundred-thirty pounds worth of squats. The voices inside told him he couldn’t do it, nearly stopped right then and there. But the voices outside told him otherwise; told him to push it. To do it; live through it. After every set Wayne lied curled on the red rubber mats; every muscle in his body in pain. They told him to get back up and continue, and he did it- all ten sets. He came back home that night sore as a motherer. He didn’t have hot water, so he slept it off, and worked out the next day. He did it, from that moment, nothing seemed impossible for him. If he could overcome something as severe as that at a young age, nothing was as impossible as it seemed.
Wayne stands across the power rack and turns to the left; from the glass walls, Wayne could see Scarlet fast asleep on the couch; his leather jacket around her. He wasn’t going to leave her alone, never will; can’t keep her out of his sight. Wayne stands before the bar; 87.5 pounds rests on both sides of the bar, put it together and you’ve got a hundred seventy-five pounds over a 45 pound bar; totaling at two hundred twenty pounds- military press. Wayne takes the bar off the rack and places it on his chest; keeping it secured, but remembering not to hyperextend his wrists. Wayne takes a step back, dips, and pushes the bar over head. The military press is actually the solid foundation for Wayne’s pet-finisher, The Death Sentence. Which is a military press ending in a DDT. The overhead press itself is actually the easy part; the trick there is cleaning your opponent, getting him onto your chest, over the shoulders. If he’s lying on the mat, then it’s easy- snatch him up. If he’s standing, the only way you can really lift him is from the side; now, not only do you have your opponent’s body weight to deal with, but you’ve got resistance. Before he does it, he issues them an ultimatum (to make sure he doesn’t have to hassle with any **** his opponents going to give him); either go through it, it’s quick and easy, like an injection; it’ll be over before you know it; or just suffer the consequences of going on with the rest of the match. After that, break his finger. But if you really want to prove a point, kick him in the shin or break his nose. Wayne holds onto his breath and lowers the bar down. He repeats the process four more times and stops for a quick rest. Wayne never sits in-between sets; it calms you down, relaxes you a little too much ands up your heart beat. So the best thing to do is to walk it off; you take a break from it, and you keep everything in check. It’s actually one of the Russian’s most obvious secrets.
I may’ve seemed broken back there, but if there’s anything this shell has reminded me is that I never give up that easily; never did, and I’m not going to start now. I can say that I hate you; openly without any moral consequences to burden myself with. I hate you, and that is just the way I really fee. Now, I know I may sound rather contradicting as I say this. But right now, I don’t feel any hate; contempt, or aggression towards you. In fact, I can’t feel a thing. I feel… like a uniform; a designated emotion we’re all forced to conform to at one time or another; numb. There’s a liberty in being numb that is not like any other. It cuts you away from things. The only time when a man is truly honest with himself is when he’s numb; everything becomes as clear as glass. There’s nothing to think about, no doubts, and you don’t have be afraid to fear. All the animosity that’s been carried will be completely washed away; that’s me on Odium. I have given up any faith I might have had in expectation. I don’t expect- I do my job.
Obo, you’ve pushed me this far. Farther than anyone has ever dared to venture to. While you don’t going around with another man’s family, not to mention that I disdain the very thought of your existence, I can see your logic. If you even have one, who knows maybe you don’t have any at all. You’ve got me where you want me; near the breaking point of submission. But I’ll be damned if I walk away empty handed. Vanessa and the title are the two things I’ve fought to have, and since then I’ve fought to keep them around my arms. So I’m not giving up that easily. I’ve worked too long and too hard for this, and I’m not giving up now. I’m not a bad guy, I’m just protecting what I have and continue to covet. Fail.
McGurk, you ready?
A voice asks.
Sure am, Sal.
Come on.
Sal straps on an extra sixty pounds onto the bar; that’s a good thirty on each side- two seventy. Wayne motions forward back into the power rack. Sal approaches him towards the left, as another man approaches him on the right. Negative; the elite test of strength. Sal and the instructor place the bar on Wayne chest and help him press it over head.
You ready?
Wayne takes several deep breaths. Wayne turns his head several times quickly, and takes a deep final breath.
Come on.
I’m ready.
Alright, release in five, four, three, two…
Sal and the instructor slowly release the bar; Wayne’s arms tremble.
Come on, man, stabilize.
Wayne holds onto it.
5…
4…
Vanessa’s going to die.
3…
2…
You’re going to lose, man. Everything you own.
1…
Lower it.
Wayne falters, but manages to recover. He slowly lowers the bar to the tip of his forehead.
5…
Wayne fingers begin to sweat, quickly loosening his grip.
4…
Wayne’s arms begin to shake again. He looses control; begins to fail.
Come on McGurk, push it. Easy weight Wayne, come on, it’s easy weight.
3…
2…
The thought of Vanessa tied alone and helpless kicks in; Wayne pushes the bar back to stability.
1...
Lower. Wayne takes it to nose-level; the bar right before his very eyes.
5…
Obo licking the tears off Vanessa face. Wayne drops the weight.
Come on McGurk, save it.
Wayne restrains himself.
Your almost there; come on!
4…
The sound and sight of Vanessa cries overcome him. It’s sends a fury of adrenaline into his system.
3…
2…
You can’t win.
1…
Wayne quickly lowers it to his neck and stabilizes.
5…
Obo rubbing Vanessa stomach; his callused laced hand over Vanessa flat stomach.
Licking the tears from Vanessa face; his damn filthy tongue!
Pulling Vanessa by the hair and choking her out; placing the duct tape over her mouth and kicking the chair down onto the cold black cement floor.
I’ll kill you motherer!
Wayne looses control and the weight crash over him. Sal and the instructor dive into to save Wayne away from the bar; luckily, steel rods on the side of the rack restrict the bar from dropping into Wayne.
Failed it…
Don’t sweat it; held on long enough.
That’s the thing, I didn’t.
A thousand miles away, the rash echoes a thousand times louder- Harley lives. Like a bat out of hell, Wayne explodes out of the tunnel; the road before him silent and empty- not for long. God damn it, not for long. Wayne cranks the engine harder, and is pulled away into the night. He swerves towards the middle of the road and follows the yellow lines paved throughout the road like a child on a hopscotch field. Like reefer, hard alcohol, and illegal narcotics, this is fleeting. There’s absolutely nothing else to do. You’ve got everything you can possibly want, but even then, even peace and security isn’t a sure thing; nothing is. You hold on to what you’ve got and make the most of it; a simple key to life Wayne learned at an early age. Sometimes, you just gotta take off; run away. Not for long, just for awhile. It’s inconsiderate and selfish;
that. The fingers who point out your faults would do the same if they were in the same God damned place. Right now, it’s about you. Man, you’ve taken all the **** they could possible throw at you. You deserve sometime alone.There’s no stopping this now; it’s become a
ing mad man. Wayne speeds down the empty highway. No switching back, look out into the horizon and accept it for all it is; peace.Vanessa’s got hurt- You’re
ing fault. Just like Distance a year ago, you we’re looking after you own ass! You completely ignored her and look what’s happened. What the was I supposed to do? I wasn’t there. You could’ve been. You have a pair of working legs right? Isn’t like your some pathetic little paraplegic. I wasn’t there, I would if I could- that isn’t a good excuse. What the hell do you expect me to say? That I’m ing sorry? Lord only knows I am. I have apologized a million times over, to the point that the term “I’m Sorry” sounds like a crock of ****! I just wish I was right there when he sedated her- I would have saved her and would’ve caught the motherer as he was doing it; catch him right there. If I could have another set of eyes installed to the back of my head I would. She can take care of herself, but to see her like that; helpless. With no way to save her- it hurts. I’ll get mine and he’ll get his. I have the chance to change things; make it all better again. I’ll receive the satisfaction. I’ll receive my satisfaction. She’ll be back. I will receive my satisfaction.You can’t break me.
What about the gold? Lose it too like the way your about to lose Vanessa. But, Wayne, here’s the difference; the belt can be saved, Vanessa can’t. Take the obvious choice and walk away with what you really want. In the long run, it’ll save you a migraine.
Do you want the belt?
I do.
Do you love your wife?
I do.
Lair.
You!Wayne thrusts the bike faster. He just doesn’t care.
If you really love her, then you wouldn’t be here.
I need some time alone God damn it! Can’t you just leave me the
alone for once? Just once, because I am this close into crashing the bike!Do it.
I’m dead
ing serious; do not test me. Please don’t.If you’re that serious, do it.
No.
Do it.
No.
You can’t break me.
You never could; you never can.
Who’s breaking you anyway?
Wayne releases a scream.
Do it…
Come on man, I’m waiting.
ing do it!No.
Now!
Wayne accelerates the Harley into top speed; the highway quickly dissolving into oblivion. The road, stop signs, and street lights have become nothing more than an obscure Van Gough painting; noir tie die. Wayne releases his right hand away from the breaks; left hand controlling the Harley. Wayne drives his fist into his face and takes a shot. What a sight he must be, a depressed
Rage suddenly overcomes Wayne. Control yourself, don’t let your emotions overtake you-
that. You can handle it- I don’t want to. Wayne grabs the bike, charges forward and crashes it into the phone booth. The bike falls and shards of broken glass explode in every available direction. Wayne reaches in, but the glass cuts him. Doesn’t matter, just continue. Wayne reaches for the receiver and pulls the cord off the machine. Wayne steps back, and like a whip he drives the metallic cord into the bike. Wayne whips the bike again; the now-damaged receiver denting the Harley’s beautiful black frame. Wayne motions around the bike, stomping on the chasse along the way. Wayne drops to booth knees-Hold back.
He removes his gloves and begins to pound on the bike with his bare-clenched fists. His arms have become a crimson nightmare.
I can do this.Wayne rises; sweating profusely, he over looks the result of his rampage. Day slowly begins to rise; the sky above melting away in an orange pasture. There’s a time to do this, you’ll get your chance. You know you can feel it- walk away.
Wayne has somewhat calm. A metric weight collides into Wayne; what the hell was it? Wayne lies in the center of the road, vision slightly blurred, and sees a SUV driving ahead of him. Wayne pulls himself to rise, but the morning traffic quickly comes into view. Wayne remains on the ground as a siege of cars begin to drive over him.
Obo, I’ve got to admire you because you can really take a man to his limits and send him unto his very knees. I may have come off as the victor last Sunday, but it certainly seems that you have taken the last laugh. You stabbed the rusty knife through me, and you took hold of my very nerve; the core of Wayne McGurk. You laugh, with that little sadistic grin along your face, and grasped between your hand lies my beating heart; your term of endearment. I am so close to vacating my title for her, but there’s that little voice that flickers on and tells me not to. Selfishly reminding me of how I suffered to get to where I am and to hold that belt. So instead of conjuring a solution, I smoke, and drink, because I just don’t want to face it. I held the belt the other night ready to surrender it, not just because I had to, but also because I want to; a yearning from the very depths of my being. I stood there, and I just couldn’t. So I continued to drink, and drink, and I commiserated in my bedroom, I had realized what an awful person I really am. I looked at my reflection across the mirror with utter disgust, because I could not pick between the two. Even though, the one away from me is the obvious choice. And remember, not a lot of people are comfortable around the notion of a drunken father, with a four year old daughter.
Let me ask you something man, have you ever been around someone you love dearly, someone you’re physically stronger than, and tell yourself: Hey, if I wanted to, I could really hurt this person! Suffocate them while they sleep, trap them inside the refrigerator, or obey every horrible thought that comes through. People don’t say it. They dare not acknowledge it, but we all think of it. I remember when Scarlet was first born; I felt the need to protect her from everything in the world, including myself. I would carry her in my arms as I would cross the street, and I’d be scared, man. What if I dropped her? It was that easy; bought a car the morning after. I go to sleep sometimes with Vanessa and Scarlet wrapped around my arms, protecting them.
Obo, you have withdrawn all the power away from me. I hate you and I really want to kill you. I’ve run out of options. You’ve broken me and so I seek out your guidance. You call the shots; you’re in control. Tell me what to do, and I will comply with it. If you asked, I would wrap a rope around my neck. If they won’t satisfy you, I would gladly light myself in fire. Just do not touch her. Although, I better face the fact that you don’t really give **** what I say or do- but I do, so
you.Just bring her back. Please.
*
As soon as Wayne awoke, he knew he needed to do something. The man doesn’t submit easy, he tries. He tries, he does, and if can’t accomplish it, he tries again. It takes something so sacred to shake a man like that to his very knees. You take away religion, he’ll cling on to it like a martyr, but it doesn’t mean jack ****. You take away something more sacred than religion, like a family parse, then you have his soul. The advantages will be an unlimited yield. But Wayne does know a woman, who actually holds religion above her family, his mother. It isn’t like she’s an Evangelist or a Born Again or anything like that, she’s just a woman devoted to her God.
It’s well about three o’clock in the morning. Even from the inside, Wayne can hear the crashes of rain outside. He needed to get away this time, for real. So he went to the place that made him the man he is: the gym. SoundGarden’s “Loud Love” blasts away from the stereo (a contribution from his old cassette copy of SoundGarden’s Louder Than Love; their first release on a major label) inside the men’s training area; known to the many to tread inside as the Dungeon. It was in the very power rack Wayne stands across, when Wayne’s body and mind was first put to test. He was seventeen (started working out a couple month’s earlier), and he had to do 10x10 (10 reps, ten sets) of a hundred-thirty pounds worth of squats. The voices inside told him he couldn’t do it, nearly stopped right then and there. But the voices outside told him otherwise; told him to push it. To do it; live through it. After every set Wayne lied curled on the red rubber mats; every muscle in his body in pain. They told him to get back up and continue, and he did it- all ten sets. He came back home that night sore as a mother
er. He didn’t have hot water, so he slept it off, and worked out the next day. He did it, from that moment, nothing seemed impossible for him. If he could overcome something as severe as that at a young age, nothing was as impossible as it seemed.Wayne stands across the power rack and turns to the left; from the glass walls, Wayne could see Scarlet fast asleep on the couch; his leather jacket around her. He wasn’t going to leave her alone, never will; can’t keep her out of his sight. Wayne stands before the bar; 87.5 pounds rests on both sides of the bar, put it together and you’ve got a hundred seventy-five pounds over a 45 pound bar; totaling at two hundred twenty pounds- military press. Wayne takes the bar off the rack and places it on his chest; keeping it secured, but remembering not to hyperextend his wrists. Wayne takes a step back, dips, and pushes the bar over head. The military press is actually the solid foundation for Wayne’s pet-finisher, The Death Sentence. Which is a military press ending in a DDT. The overhead press itself is actually the easy part; the trick there is cleaning your opponent, getting him onto your chest, over the shoulders. If he’s lying on the mat, then it’s easy- snatch him up. If he’s standing, the only way you can really lift him is from the side; now, not only do you have your opponent’s body weight to deal with, but you’ve got resistance. Before he does it, he issues them an ultimatum (to make sure he doesn’t have to hassle with any **** his opponents going to give him); either go through it, it’s quick and easy, like an injection; it’ll be over before you know it; or just suffer the consequences of going on with the rest of the match. After that, break his finger. But if you really want to prove a point, kick him in the shin or break his nose. Wayne holds onto his breath and lowers the bar down. He repeats the process four more times and stops for a quick rest. Wayne never sits in-between sets; it calms you down, relaxes you a little too much and
s up your heart beat. So the best thing to do is to walk it off; you take a break from it, and you keep everything in check. It’s actually one of the Russian’s most obvious secrets. I may’ve seemed broken back there, but if there’s anything this shell has reminded me is that I never give up that easily; never did, and I’m not going to start now. I can say that I hate you; openly without any moral consequences to burden myself with. I hate you, and that is just the way I really fee. Now, I know I may sound rather contradicting as I say this. But right now, I don’t feel any hate; contempt, or aggression towards you. In fact, I can’t feel a thing. I feel… like a uniform; a designated emotion we’re all forced to conform to at one time or another; numb. There’s a liberty in being numb that is not like any other. It cuts you away from things. The only time when a man is truly honest with himself is when he’s numb; everything becomes as clear as glass. There’s nothing to think about, no doubts, and you don’t have be afraid to fear. All the animosity that’s been carried will be completely washed away; that’s me on Odium. I have given up any faith I might have had in expectation. I don’t expect- I do my job.
Obo, you’ve pushed me this far. Farther than anyone has ever dared to venture to. While you don’t go
ing around with another man’s family, not to mention that I disdain the very thought of your existence, I can see your logic. If you even have one, who knows maybe you don’t have any at all. You’ve got me where you want me; near the breaking point of submission. But I’ll be damned if I walk away empty handed. Vanessa and the title are the two things I’ve fought to have, and since then I’ve fought to keep them around my arms. So I’m not giving up that easily. I’ve worked too long and too hard for this, and I’m not giving up now. I’m not a bad guy, I’m just protecting what I have and continue to covet. Fail.McGurk, you ready?
A voice asks.
Sure am, Sal.
Come on.
Sal straps on an extra sixty pounds onto the bar; that’s a good thirty on each side- two seventy. Wayne motions forward back into the power rack. Sal approaches him towards the left, as another man approaches him on the right. Negative; the elite test of strength. Sal and the instructor place the bar on Wayne chest and help him press it over head.
You ready?
Wayne takes several deep breaths. Wayne turns his head several times quickly, and takes a deep final breath.
Come on.
I’m ready.
Alright, release in five, four, three, two…
Sal and the instructor slowly release the bar; Wayne’s arms tremble.
Come on, man, stabilize.
Wayne holds onto it.
5…
4…
Vanessa’s going to die.
3…
2…
You’re going to lose, man. Everything you own.
1…
Lower it.
Wayne falters, but manages to recover. He slowly lowers the bar to the tip of his forehead.
5…
Wayne fingers begin to sweat, quickly loosening his grip.
4…
Wayne’s arms begin to shake again. He looses control; begins to fail.
Come on McGurk, push it. Easy weight Wayne, come on, it’s easy weight.
3…
2…
The thought of Vanessa tied alone and helpless kicks in; Wayne pushes the bar back to stability.
1...
Lower. Wayne takes it to nose-level; the bar right before his very eyes.
5…
Obo licking the tears off Vanessa face. Wayne drops the weight.
Come on McGurk, save it.
Wayne restrains himself.
Your almost there; come on!
4…
The sound and sight of Vanessa cries overcome him. It’s sends a fury of adrenaline into his system.
3…
2…
You can’t win.
1…
Wayne quickly lowers it to his neck and stabilizes.
5…
Obo rubbing Vanessa stomach; his callused laced hand over Vanessa flat stomach.
Licking the tears from Vanessa face; his damn filthy tongue!
Pulling Vanessa by the hair and choking her out; placing the duct tape over her mouth and kicking the chair down onto the cold black cement floor.
I’ll kill you mother
er!Wayne looses control and the weight crash over him. Sal and the instructor dive into to save Wayne away from the bar; luckily, steel rods on the side of the rack restrict the bar from dropping into Wayne.
Failed it…
Don’t sweat it; held on long enough.
That’s the thing, I didn’t.
