Post by twilight on Feb 20, 2017 17:11:10 GMT -5
Alright Alright Alright
The scene is a smokey pool hall. Billiards if you will. It smells like whiskey and urine. I dont know why I am even here. I guess this is where cowboys come to die. There are about 20 pool tables spread out through the place. And the place is half full, not bad for a Monday, but kind of sad as well. Dont these men have something better to do on a Monday afternoon, its 3pm and they in a dark dank pool hall drinking beer and whiskey. Its the saddest thing ive ever seen. But then again I am here as well so why judge?
As I step to the far corner next to a blinking white tv that sputters images through white noise, its evident this place has no cable or sattelite, just a busted antenna on a 20 year old tv. The sad gets sadder.
I find the juke box that has a smear of what appears to be blood near the top corner. Well at least I hope its blood. I scan through the music and the latest song they have in it is from 1997, the year I was born, well at least they've kept up with modern day music. I settle in on some Clint Black. Man I love his name, if I had had a chance to pick my own name that would be it. And to top it off he's a pretty good singer, classic country, you gotta love it.
I select my song and the juke starts blaring the song and half the place starts singing along with the song, now these men dont seem quite so scary anymore, they seem downright alright. Alright Alright alright.
As I look around I finally spot the person Ive been looking for. Harold.
I walk over to the the table where he's at, hes eating some wings and drinking what I hope is tea, a very large glass of tea, as I get close I can now smell it definately isnt tea.
You are a hard man to find.
Harold looks up at me.
Harold: Thats the point.
Jack: We need you now, now more than ever.
Harold: Is that so?
Jack: It is. Things have changed.
Harold: I havent, I am still me.
Jack: Still, we need you around, we need you to do more.
Harold: Listen Jack, you're just a wrestler. So you dont know whats going on backstage or in the boardroom, or anywhere. Just because you dont see me dont me I aint working my fat ass off!
Jack: Oh I didnt know.
Harold: Of course you dont, thats the way its supposed to be, when you dont think anything is happening that means people are working their butts off.
Jack: Sorry for bothering you.
Harold: You should be sorry, you should be worried about fighting Trey Ellis and Saint Jude on this upcoming Chaos.
Jack: Speaking of, anyway you could change that match? I dont like having to face Jude.
Harold: Nope, you rather face Lucas Balkan? He just came back and I am sure he'd have no problem facing you.
Jack: No, I'll get to him eventually.
Harold: Spoken like a true idiot, one match at a time, get ready for Jude and Trey.
Jack: I will, thanks.
And with that I leave behind this place. Where not even the few female patrons make me feel at ease, worst bar eve.
Fade to black
The scene is a smokey pool hall. Billiards if you will. It smells like whiskey and urine. I dont know why I am even here. I guess this is where cowboys come to die. There are about 20 pool tables spread out through the place. And the place is half full, not bad for a Monday, but kind of sad as well. Dont these men have something better to do on a Monday afternoon, its 3pm and they in a dark dank pool hall drinking beer and whiskey. Its the saddest thing ive ever seen. But then again I am here as well so why judge?
As I step to the far corner next to a blinking white tv that sputters images through white noise, its evident this place has no cable or sattelite, just a busted antenna on a 20 year old tv. The sad gets sadder.
I find the juke box that has a smear of what appears to be blood near the top corner. Well at least I hope its blood. I scan through the music and the latest song they have in it is from 1997, the year I was born, well at least they've kept up with modern day music. I settle in on some Clint Black. Man I love his name, if I had had a chance to pick my own name that would be it. And to top it off he's a pretty good singer, classic country, you gotta love it.
I select my song and the juke starts blaring the song and half the place starts singing along with the song, now these men dont seem quite so scary anymore, they seem downright alright. Alright Alright alright.
As I look around I finally spot the person Ive been looking for. Harold.
I walk over to the the table where he's at, hes eating some wings and drinking what I hope is tea, a very large glass of tea, as I get close I can now smell it definately isnt tea.
You are a hard man to find.
Harold looks up at me.
Harold: Thats the point.
Jack: We need you now, now more than ever.
Harold: Is that so?
Jack: It is. Things have changed.
Harold: I havent, I am still me.
Jack: Still, we need you around, we need you to do more.
Harold: Listen Jack, you're just a wrestler. So you dont know whats going on backstage or in the boardroom, or anywhere. Just because you dont see me dont me I aint working my fat ass off!
Jack: Oh I didnt know.
Harold: Of course you dont, thats the way its supposed to be, when you dont think anything is happening that means people are working their butts off.
Jack: Sorry for bothering you.
Harold: You should be sorry, you should be worried about fighting Trey Ellis and Saint Jude on this upcoming Chaos.
Jack: Speaking of, anyway you could change that match? I dont like having to face Jude.
Harold: Nope, you rather face Lucas Balkan? He just came back and I am sure he'd have no problem facing you.
Jack: No, I'll get to him eventually.
Harold: Spoken like a true idiot, one match at a time, get ready for Jude and Trey.
Jack: I will, thanks.
And with that I leave behind this place. Where not even the few female patrons make me feel at ease, worst bar eve.
Fade to black
