Post by Deleted on Apr 6, 2013 19:55:01 GMT -6
“Fuck, that! I’m not bringing some jacked up chair into the arena. Not for fuckin Kamikaze.”
I examined the chair James had handed to me, and threw it across the locker room, it landed on a shelf knocking down some PPV clothing we were supposed to sign and sellf at some jacked up price.
“But, man, it’s pretty much the only thing we got right now.”
I paced around the lockerroom like a madman, anger and frustration running through my pores like sweat, and it wasn’t even hot out. Swearing obscenties I stopped when one of the stage hands cracked open my door.
“Your match with Frank is on in ten minutes.”
Then, just as swiftly as she flew in, she left.
ten minutes. A timer started ticking in my head.
“Where the fuck is my shipment” I yelled over and over. I had oerdered the weapons a few days ago prior to even buying a ticket to this place. Fucking Japanese Postal system.
James put a hand on my shoulder. “Calm down man. You can take him.”
I took a deep breath. He was right.
“C’mon, man!”
James led me out of the locker room, and walked me out towards the halls.
“Look. Man. This is hardcore, Everything’s legal. Frank just went to a construction site and stole a buncha shit he’;s never even used before. He’s a technical guy. How can he grab you when you’re swinging a shovel in his face, bro. Think about it. He may be an all american wrestler, but this is a street fight. Fuck the weapons you ordered. You got this.”
I nodded. For the first time, James made me feel like not bashing his face in. A pleasant surprise for once.
“So what if he charges me before I can get into the ring.”
“uhh...” Mr. Optimistic had been stumped. In anycase, or just in that case. I’d probably just have to power through it and take the weapon from his hands.
“Hey, yo!”
Wondabread, in full referee attire, walked up to me.
“Alright, dude. You know the rules. You can bring your own weapon. Anything is legal. Yada Yada. We been through this. You got it Big K?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, broham, spread em.”
I spaced my legs and stretched out my arms, allowing Wonda to pat me down.
“I don’t know why I have to do this, it’s a hardcore match. But rules is rules.”
Wonda tried not to touch to much, but the whole thing is just fucking uncomfortable, trust me. But fuck, I’m used to being frisked.
I walked to the guerilla position, trying to psyche myself up. I could hear the crowd from back here. The energy seemed to pick me up, cuz at that moment I was high as fuck.
“Oh yeah, here!”
Stopped me for a second and motioned to me to a shadowy corner behind some junk chests. “Here this is for you.”
“Beer and a big?”
“Not exactly.” James reached under his shirt and pulled out a forty of King Cobra. “I heard about the package mixup, this might come in handy, either way you use it.”
“Thanks, folk.” I nodded to hip, cracking the bottle and taking a sip before being stopped by James again.
“You forgot it.”
“eh? Forgot what?”
James pulled the biggest cigar I’d ever seen from behind his ears.
“Smoke it, sell it, burn Finelli’s eye out with it. whatever, just put to some use. Now get out of here!”
James pushkicked me in the ass out the curtains, into the bright light of NEW’s Kamikaze..
I examined the chair James had handed to me, and threw it across the locker room, it landed on a shelf knocking down some PPV clothing we were supposed to sign and sellf at some jacked up price.
“But, man, it’s pretty much the only thing we got right now.”
I paced around the lockerroom like a madman, anger and frustration running through my pores like sweat, and it wasn’t even hot out. Swearing obscenties I stopped when one of the stage hands cracked open my door.
“Your match with Frank is on in ten minutes.”
Then, just as swiftly as she flew in, she left.
ten minutes. A timer started ticking in my head.
“Where the fuck is my shipment” I yelled over and over. I had oerdered the weapons a few days ago prior to even buying a ticket to this place. Fucking Japanese Postal system.
James put a hand on my shoulder. “Calm down man. You can take him.”
I took a deep breath. He was right.
“C’mon, man!”
James led me out of the locker room, and walked me out towards the halls.
“Look. Man. This is hardcore, Everything’s legal. Frank just went to a construction site and stole a buncha shit he’;s never even used before. He’s a technical guy. How can he grab you when you’re swinging a shovel in his face, bro. Think about it. He may be an all american wrestler, but this is a street fight. Fuck the weapons you ordered. You got this.”
I nodded. For the first time, James made me feel like not bashing his face in. A pleasant surprise for once.
“So what if he charges me before I can get into the ring.”
“uhh...” Mr. Optimistic had been stumped. In anycase, or just in that case. I’d probably just have to power through it and take the weapon from his hands.
“Hey, yo!”
Wondabread, in full referee attire, walked up to me.
“Alright, dude. You know the rules. You can bring your own weapon. Anything is legal. Yada Yada. We been through this. You got it Big K?”
“Yeah.”
“Ok, broham, spread em.”
I spaced my legs and stretched out my arms, allowing Wonda to pat me down.
“I don’t know why I have to do this, it’s a hardcore match. But rules is rules.”
Wonda tried not to touch to much, but the whole thing is just fucking uncomfortable, trust me. But fuck, I’m used to being frisked.
I walked to the guerilla position, trying to psyche myself up. I could hear the crowd from back here. The energy seemed to pick me up, cuz at that moment I was high as fuck.
“Oh yeah, here!”
Stopped me for a second and motioned to me to a shadowy corner behind some junk chests. “Here this is for you.”
“Beer and a big?”
“Not exactly.” James reached under his shirt and pulled out a forty of King Cobra. “I heard about the package mixup, this might come in handy, either way you use it.”
“Thanks, folk.” I nodded to hip, cracking the bottle and taking a sip before being stopped by James again.
“You forgot it.”
“eh? Forgot what?”
James pulled the biggest cigar I’d ever seen from behind his ears.
“Smoke it, sell it, burn Finelli’s eye out with it. whatever, just put to some use. Now get out of here!”
James pushkicked me in the ass out the curtains, into the bright light of NEW’s Kamikaze..