Post by Eric The Torture on Aug 12, 2009 12:51:34 GMT -5
* Eric the Torture rides his Harley down a street in a downtown area. He dismounts in front of a seedy, run-down, unnamed hotel with broken windows and a brick façade that is blackened from fire. A homeless man is sprawled on the steps leading up to the front entry door and two hookers stand on the corner not 10 steps away. ETT pulls his phone out and, seeing he has a message, pulls up his voice mail while keeping a wary eye open. *
ETT: Ah, Kelly - always trying to keep an eye out for me. Things have gotten worse for me eh? I doubt it - I know how to handle myself!
* Eric puts his phone away, pulls his ball bat out of his saddle bag, then begins walking toward the motel. He stops, turns around, and clicks his key fob toward his bike, which makes a high-pitched whooping sound, indicating an alarm is enabled. Thus reassured, he walks into the lobby. The man behind the counter is large, hairy, and wearing a greasy, stained wife-beater that is two sizes two small, allowing his ample paunch to hang out over his belt. He is smoking a smelly cigar. Wasting no time on pleasantries, ETT grabs him by the shirt and pulls him over the desk, ripping out more than a few chest hairs in the process.*
ETT: Hello, Sam. Where is he?
Sam: Er- Eric! Take it easy, I got no beef wit' you!
* Eric slams the ball bat down on the counter inches away from Sam's head. *
Sam: Alright, alright, take it easy! This is a respectable 'stablishment! Ain't no need for no violence here! He's up in 304!
* Eric lets Sam go and he slinks back behind the relative safety of the now splintered counter. *
Sam: Who's gonna pay to fix this mess?
ETT: Send me the bill, but wait until after I'm through in room 304. Oh, and Sam... say hi to your mom for me.
* Sam gulps at the news of the impending destruction of his hotel, but he nods, letting Eric know that he'll let his mother know. Eric walks up the rickety steps, taking care not to step on the passed out junkies sprawled out on them (hopefully) in their drug induced stupor. He takes great pains to try and ignore the sounds of the prostitutes conducting business in one of the rooms or of the agonized sounds of a man's muffled screams through the door of another. Finally, he reaches room 304. Putting his ear to the door, he can faintly hear voices coming through, though he can't quite make out what they are saying. He rearranges his grip on his bat, then makes to kick the door down - when suddenly the door opens and Eric is struck on the back of the head with something hard. He stumbles into the room where Johnny Detroit and two men are standing, apparently waiting for him. The man who hit him walks in behind Eric and shuts the door. *
Johnny: Eric, Eric, Eric, what am I going to do with you? You just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you? Both Mike and I told you to stay out of our business, but you just can't seem to comprehend that, can you!? And now, you're trying to get on mine, Mike's and Luther's case about those gem - well, we already know about that, right?
* Eric gets back to his feet, bat in hand, but wondering what Johnny was talking about. He never mentioned Luther. And what is this about a gem? He starts to raise the bat, but Johnny's two associates reach into their coats and pull guns on the wrestling superstar. ETT knows he's in trouble and throws the bat on the stained sheets on the bed. *
ETT: I know you're up to something, Johnny. You and Mike Duncan are two of the dirtiest people I know, and I got - other people - trying to warn me off your case. That means that you got something to hide, and I told you, I'm going to find out what it is. You just -
* Eric is interrupted by a motion from Johnny, precipitating another blow to the base of the skull, this one hard enough to knock him unconscious. When he wakes up, he is out on the street in front of the hotel. His pockets have been picked clean, his bike is missing, his expensive leather riding jacket is gone - in fact, all he has left on his person are his t-shirt, jeans, boots, phone, and a note. *
"The next time I catch you snooping around, it'll be the last. Next time, instead of taking a nap on the concrete, you'll be sleeping inside the concrete.
Best regards,
J"
* Eric blows out a breath, rubs the back of his head where a nice knot is starting to form, and calls for a cab. *
ETT: Ah, Kelly - always trying to keep an eye out for me. Things have gotten worse for me eh? I doubt it - I know how to handle myself!
* Eric puts his phone away, pulls his ball bat out of his saddle bag, then begins walking toward the motel. He stops, turns around, and clicks his key fob toward his bike, which makes a high-pitched whooping sound, indicating an alarm is enabled. Thus reassured, he walks into the lobby. The man behind the counter is large, hairy, and wearing a greasy, stained wife-beater that is two sizes two small, allowing his ample paunch to hang out over his belt. He is smoking a smelly cigar. Wasting no time on pleasantries, ETT grabs him by the shirt and pulls him over the desk, ripping out more than a few chest hairs in the process.*
ETT: Hello, Sam. Where is he?
Sam: Er- Eric! Take it easy, I got no beef wit' you!
* Eric slams the ball bat down on the counter inches away from Sam's head. *
Sam: Alright, alright, take it easy! This is a respectable 'stablishment! Ain't no need for no violence here! He's up in 304!
* Eric lets Sam go and he slinks back behind the relative safety of the now splintered counter. *
Sam: Who's gonna pay to fix this mess?
ETT: Send me the bill, but wait until after I'm through in room 304. Oh, and Sam... say hi to your mom for me.
* Sam gulps at the news of the impending destruction of his hotel, but he nods, letting Eric know that he'll let his mother know. Eric walks up the rickety steps, taking care not to step on the passed out junkies sprawled out on them (hopefully) in their drug induced stupor. He takes great pains to try and ignore the sounds of the prostitutes conducting business in one of the rooms or of the agonized sounds of a man's muffled screams through the door of another. Finally, he reaches room 304. Putting his ear to the door, he can faintly hear voices coming through, though he can't quite make out what they are saying. He rearranges his grip on his bat, then makes to kick the door down - when suddenly the door opens and Eric is struck on the back of the head with something hard. He stumbles into the room where Johnny Detroit and two men are standing, apparently waiting for him. The man who hit him walks in behind Eric and shuts the door. *
Johnny: Eric, Eric, Eric, what am I going to do with you? You just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you? Both Mike and I told you to stay out of our business, but you just can't seem to comprehend that, can you!? And now, you're trying to get on mine, Mike's and Luther's case about those gem - well, we already know about that, right?
* Eric gets back to his feet, bat in hand, but wondering what Johnny was talking about. He never mentioned Luther. And what is this about a gem? He starts to raise the bat, but Johnny's two associates reach into their coats and pull guns on the wrestling superstar. ETT knows he's in trouble and throws the bat on the stained sheets on the bed. *
ETT: I know you're up to something, Johnny. You and Mike Duncan are two of the dirtiest people I know, and I got - other people - trying to warn me off your case. That means that you got something to hide, and I told you, I'm going to find out what it is. You just -
* Eric is interrupted by a motion from Johnny, precipitating another blow to the base of the skull, this one hard enough to knock him unconscious. When he wakes up, he is out on the street in front of the hotel. His pockets have been picked clean, his bike is missing, his expensive leather riding jacket is gone - in fact, all he has left on his person are his t-shirt, jeans, boots, phone, and a note. *
"The next time I catch you snooping around, it'll be the last. Next time, instead of taking a nap on the concrete, you'll be sleeping inside the concrete.
Best regards,
J"
* Eric blows out a breath, rubs the back of his head where a nice knot is starting to form, and calls for a cab. *