Post by Psychotic Circus on Jan 7, 2013 1:13:13 GMT -5
-The scene begins innocently enough, a bruised and hot tempered Jerry Nate was sitting in his lawn chair as he barricaded himself in his private locker room. A dripping can of Budweiser sitting in his hand as he slowly slurped from the aluminum container, his usual pre-match ritual when there weren't women folk around. No, tonight he needed only himself and booze, the only tag team partner he could fully rely on. Besides, he already had plans to slap around a blue haired women later tonight, and this time he was going to be getting paid for the endeavor. Sitting in his lap was the real KOTDM championship title, not that fake knock off Vincent thought he won at Blood Runs Cold. He sat there, mellowing out with himself and his liquid wife, his feet sitting up on the locker room bleachers and a mini television set resting between his unlaced boots. The Satisfying One burped as he flipped through the channels, suddenly stopping as he saw the back of a head he thought he recognized. Then he saw the camera pan in to give a larger picture on the situation before he suddenly grabbed the brown paper bag below his chair and yanked out the bottle of Everclear hidden inside.-
Jerry- "The closet! The one place I should of definitely made sure you weren't hiding inside of Coors. You tricky tease..."
-Charlie Coors came bursting through the closet with his usual camera man in tow behind him after being found out.-
Coors- "Jerry Nate! Blood Runs Cold didn't quite end how you predicted it would end. Vince Vegas took you to the breaking point, and was about to claim your title, only for you to pull him back down just in time for the ref to call it a draw...how do you feel about that?!"
-A large, inhuman swig of the pure grain liquor was deposited down Jerry's gullet and sent to rot deep inside his belly.-
"I know how the match ended, you little shit.Your "under standing" mother, your highly disappointing father, even your permanent Jew fro saw how it ended. A double DQ. The rarest match finish in GHW history. Little Vincent can go parading around the arena with his fake title all he wants, it means nothing, much like his efforts inside that bar during the PPV. He couldn't put me under for the ten seconds it took to claim victory so therefore he lost. I may have not won, but he was definitely the bottom bitch in that situation. I still hold onto the real title, all forty pounds of molded steel made for the purpose of labeling someone as the best in their field. Not two pounds of shinny plastic and rubber from the toys R' us...."
-Coors looked on with some pretty wide eyes underneath his prescription sun glasses as Jerry turned back to the television set between his legs and slumped over in the lawn chair.-
"Your hair looks as stupid from the back as it does in the front Coors. Do you actually pay someone to do that? Or does Mama Coors spruce you up in the morning before she packs your lunch and sends you off to work...."
"...and what did you mean by you're the "Heir of the Psychotic Legacy"?"
-Jerry took in a deep breath through his nostrils and stood up to face Coors.-
"Someone...used to have a child...but that child died. Along with two wives. Needless to say, that person really doesn't want anything to do with the mortal coil anymore...but he still calls two men his real sons. I just happen to be one of those sons. Millson is the other. Millson came first, I came second....He needs a proper heir you see, for he still holds a large amount of power here in GHW, more than you, or certain GM's and members of the board will ever know. I never went against him, or his Psychotic tendencies...Unlike his other son. And I'll be dammed if I have to play second fiddle to that fucker!"
-Coors' face made it seem like his asshole had clenched up and imploded right up inside himself.-
"I have no idea what you're talking about....
"
"BULLSHIT YOU DON'T, YOU JEW FRO'ED HACK! You already know who I'm talking about! And you saw those lights go out, you saw the look in my eyes..."
-Jerry's palms reached up and grabbed Charlie's collar, bringing him up close and personal.-
"Or do you require another demonstration?!"
-Charlie Coors gulped slowly as the sweat dripped from his forehead.-
"Naw Jerry, I'm...I'm cool...."
"BUT WHERE'S THE FUN IN THAT!?"
-The lights began to flicker in the room as a scuffle was heard, three voices filled the air, one of them sounding all to familiar and deranged. Coors gave a curtailing, bloody murder scream from his lungs, but it didn't tapper off, it just ended. The lights turned back on, showing the Coor laying down against his front, his head turned to the side away from the camera. The camera man who foolishly came with him was now sitting in the lawn chair, his eyes wide and unblinking at the television set, in fact, his body didn't give any signal towards living at all as Jerry's face came down looking into the camera, the edges of his eyes darker than normal.-
"I bet he didn't teach you that, now did he Millson?"
-He causally stepped over Coors' body and left the locker room, leaving the scene play on longer than it needed to. Nothing changed, both men didn't move an inch. The camera man's eyes leaving everyone watching at home with a deep feeling of the upset stomach variety. The production booth finally stepped in and causally turned it over to a commercial for Le Mis the movie.-
EOT.
Jerry- "The closet! The one place I should of definitely made sure you weren't hiding inside of Coors. You tricky tease..."
-Charlie Coors came bursting through the closet with his usual camera man in tow behind him after being found out.-
Coors- "Jerry Nate! Blood Runs Cold didn't quite end how you predicted it would end. Vince Vegas took you to the breaking point, and was about to claim your title, only for you to pull him back down just in time for the ref to call it a draw...how do you feel about that?!"
-A large, inhuman swig of the pure grain liquor was deposited down Jerry's gullet and sent to rot deep inside his belly.-
"I know how the match ended, you little shit.Your "under standing" mother, your highly disappointing father, even your permanent Jew fro saw how it ended. A double DQ. The rarest match finish in GHW history. Little Vincent can go parading around the arena with his fake title all he wants, it means nothing, much like his efforts inside that bar during the PPV. He couldn't put me under for the ten seconds it took to claim victory so therefore he lost. I may have not won, but he was definitely the bottom bitch in that situation. I still hold onto the real title, all forty pounds of molded steel made for the purpose of labeling someone as the best in their field. Not two pounds of shinny plastic and rubber from the toys R' us...."
-Coors looked on with some pretty wide eyes underneath his prescription sun glasses as Jerry turned back to the television set between his legs and slumped over in the lawn chair.-
"Your hair looks as stupid from the back as it does in the front Coors. Do you actually pay someone to do that? Or does Mama Coors spruce you up in the morning before she packs your lunch and sends you off to work...."
"...and what did you mean by you're the "Heir of the Psychotic Legacy"?"
-Jerry took in a deep breath through his nostrils and stood up to face Coors.-
"Someone...used to have a child...but that child died. Along with two wives. Needless to say, that person really doesn't want anything to do with the mortal coil anymore...but he still calls two men his real sons. I just happen to be one of those sons. Millson is the other. Millson came first, I came second....He needs a proper heir you see, for he still holds a large amount of power here in GHW, more than you, or certain GM's and members of the board will ever know. I never went against him, or his Psychotic tendencies...Unlike his other son. And I'll be dammed if I have to play second fiddle to that fucker!"
-Coors' face made it seem like his asshole had clenched up and imploded right up inside himself.-
"I have no idea what you're talking about....
"
"BULLSHIT YOU DON'T, YOU JEW FRO'ED HACK! You already know who I'm talking about! And you saw those lights go out, you saw the look in my eyes..."
-Jerry's palms reached up and grabbed Charlie's collar, bringing him up close and personal.-
"Or do you require another demonstration?!"
-Charlie Coors gulped slowly as the sweat dripped from his forehead.-
"Naw Jerry, I'm...I'm cool...."
"BUT WHERE'S THE FUN IN THAT!?"
-The lights began to flicker in the room as a scuffle was heard, three voices filled the air, one of them sounding all to familiar and deranged. Coors gave a curtailing, bloody murder scream from his lungs, but it didn't tapper off, it just ended. The lights turned back on, showing the Coor laying down against his front, his head turned to the side away from the camera. The camera man who foolishly came with him was now sitting in the lawn chair, his eyes wide and unblinking at the television set, in fact, his body didn't give any signal towards living at all as Jerry's face came down looking into the camera, the edges of his eyes darker than normal.-
"I bet he didn't teach you that, now did he Millson?"
-He causally stepped over Coors' body and left the locker room, leaving the scene play on longer than it needed to. Nothing changed, both men didn't move an inch. The camera man's eyes leaving everyone watching at home with a deep feeling of the upset stomach variety. The production booth finally stepped in and causally turned it over to a commercial for Le Mis the movie.-
EOT.
