Post by Jaggeroth/Jerry/Grimey on Apr 13, 2012 7:14:50 GMT -4
Moments before the main event of tonight's program could commence, the back stage crew was in over drive and seeking to capture a moment on tape. And who could blame them? The single greatest moment in EVPW had just went down in the ring tonight, and they were looking to cash in early on all of the excitement buzzing around over the inter webs. A camera crew rushes towards the parking lot towards the large, eight cylinder truck with the Nebraska license plates. The camera man looked around the truck with his recording equipment while the sound guy tip toed behind him, who knew what sort of mood the Shotgun Kid would be in after his encounter with Vladimir tonight. Moments went by as the not so dynamic duo scoped the parking lot. The area was surrounded only in whispers from the back stage crew that were all stalking about the concrete jungle, seeing only by the dim glow of EVPW's cheap magnesium light bulbs that had cast the area in a creepy, yellow tinted glow.
Camera Dude: "Where do you think he could be?"
Sound Dude: "I don't know...I think the truck bed is rocking though..."
Jerry's truck had been parked underneath one of those light post, the truck bed perfectly underneath the light and some scuffling could be heard around the plastic protector. A giggle came from the back, sending a shiver up the crew's backs and some anal leakage down their pant legs. A sudden pop and shimmer of light sends them scuttling backwards from the black ford truck as the light shoots skyward, dinging off the side of the metal plate that encased the light bulb, the sparking orb landed across the ground beside the truck, blowing up in a sizzling display of burning green. The camera man squeals out into the night after the artillery shell exploded and turned his camera to live mode, broadcasting the scene straight over the EVPW arena feed. Jerry Nate soon hopped outside of the truck bed, his clothes a mess and his face in even worse shape, to sit over the side of his over sized truck. In one hand sat an ipod touch with the head phones leading to his ears. A bottle of Wild Turkey 101 was gripped tightly around the neck in the other, it was half empty and full of back wash, telling the story of its consumption.
Twin trails of blood were running down both sides of his mouth and straight down his chin, over his neck and down his ripped up shirt. His eyes were both sporting shiners, one from the God King, and the other was a revenge shot the security guard from earlier had given him while trying to drag Jerry to the back. His eyes were already sullen, sunken in and dark around the ridges, but the black eyes glimmered in the windy night air. His left cheek was blacker than his Pantera shirt with a little, crimson leak trailing below it as well. The light pole above him blinked, casting rotating shades of shitty yellow and darkness over him while the Snapped Cornhusker waddled above the chest like a teeny bopper to his music, his face overcome with glee and pain in a creepy cocktail that could only mean violence. The whole of the situation made Jerry look like a hobo's puppet fraying in the rain while it begged for spare change.
"I-I STAND, NOT CRAWLING, NOT FALLING DOWN. I...I BLEED... THE DEMONS THAT DRAG ME DOWN!"
Jerry keeps swaying to the music, belting out the wrong lyrics while the surrounding crew scatters except for the underpaid camera and sound guys. They walked up with their hands clean and up in the air as they approached the off center Satisfying One. Jerry just kept to himself and having a merry old time inside his own head atop his six hundred horse powered perch with his eyes slanted up and to the left. The crew finally catch his attention, Jerry's eyes snapped forward, never blinking, never loosing the smile underneath.
"Hiiiiiiiii guuuuuuuuys!"
The Mother Fuckin' Satisfying One jumped down to the concrete below and hobbled with wobbly steps in his drunk stupor, only to catch his back against the side of the freshly polished truck. The bottle was still in his clutches as he pulled the head phones out and through the hipster mp3 player into the back. The hand with the bottle went up with the pointer finger stretching straight out at the crew.
"I know what you guys are looking for....you-want-to-know-my-thoughts...about tonight's events....eeeeeew, I feel sticky...."
Jerry's words came out crisp and point by point with a high pitch that only could come from inebriation. The highly intoxicating whiskey moves above his head while the Angry Hick dribbled the liquor over him and wiped his face clean.
"Ouch....Ouch.....OUCH!"
The Shotgun Kid banged the back of his head against the truck to negate the burning pain that was spreading over his face from his dumb ass action. His face a finer shade of red, looking even worse in the blinking light above him as he smiled a wide mouth smile.
"Oh, you guys are still here? How rude of me, it's a fucking celebration, BITCHES! Vlad, Vlad, VLAD THE IMPALER!...has finally returned to EVPW. I have to hand it to you Strife, I never thought I'd run into you tonight, I figured some suit would of come down and had an army of EVPW's "wrestlers", wink wink, come down with him to haul me away. But when you came down that metal ramp, ramrodding away with destructive thoughts running through your mind, I about shit myself. Actually, I may have I need to have someone do a manual check of my trousers. Anyway, Vlad, I just want you to know that you've entered into a whole new realm of pain. I'm not your average over sized psychopath, monster or brawler that you've stomped down a thousand times over in the last few years. I'm the real deal, motherfucker and I'm going to make your nervous system shake and squeal like the piggy you really are...."
The Shotgun Kid starts to down his booze flavored drink, savoring every last drip of the liquid encouragement before his arm pulls back and shattered the glass bottle over the camera lens, sending the crew running away while dropping the expensive piece of equipment. Jerry drops the cracked glass from his hand and points the camera up to look up at him. The lens was shattered and glazed over with booze and chaw spit, leaving a hazy outline of Jerry in the camera.
"Texas Death Match, the next EVPW PPV, right here in the arena. Get used to what you're seeing right now, Vladimir. Because this is how we're going to end that night. You looking up at me, punched out, while I hold my hands up in victory."
The drunken ass jumps away from the screen and claps his hands together as the scene draws to a close.
"BECAUSE HEEEEEE'S THE AMEEEEEERRRRRRICAN DREAM! COMMON MAN HAS GOT HIS GOLD! HEEEE'S AAAAAAMERRRRRRICAN DREAM!"
EOT.
Camera Dude: "Where do you think he could be?"
Sound Dude: "I don't know...I think the truck bed is rocking though..."
Jerry's truck had been parked underneath one of those light post, the truck bed perfectly underneath the light and some scuffling could be heard around the plastic protector. A giggle came from the back, sending a shiver up the crew's backs and some anal leakage down their pant legs. A sudden pop and shimmer of light sends them scuttling backwards from the black ford truck as the light shoots skyward, dinging off the side of the metal plate that encased the light bulb, the sparking orb landed across the ground beside the truck, blowing up in a sizzling display of burning green. The camera man squeals out into the night after the artillery shell exploded and turned his camera to live mode, broadcasting the scene straight over the EVPW arena feed. Jerry Nate soon hopped outside of the truck bed, his clothes a mess and his face in even worse shape, to sit over the side of his over sized truck. In one hand sat an ipod touch with the head phones leading to his ears. A bottle of Wild Turkey 101 was gripped tightly around the neck in the other, it was half empty and full of back wash, telling the story of its consumption.
Twin trails of blood were running down both sides of his mouth and straight down his chin, over his neck and down his ripped up shirt. His eyes were both sporting shiners, one from the God King, and the other was a revenge shot the security guard from earlier had given him while trying to drag Jerry to the back. His eyes were already sullen, sunken in and dark around the ridges, but the black eyes glimmered in the windy night air. His left cheek was blacker than his Pantera shirt with a little, crimson leak trailing below it as well. The light pole above him blinked, casting rotating shades of shitty yellow and darkness over him while the Snapped Cornhusker waddled above the chest like a teeny bopper to his music, his face overcome with glee and pain in a creepy cocktail that could only mean violence. The whole of the situation made Jerry look like a hobo's puppet fraying in the rain while it begged for spare change.
"I-I STAND, NOT CRAWLING, NOT FALLING DOWN. I...I BLEED... THE DEMONS THAT DRAG ME DOWN!"
Jerry keeps swaying to the music, belting out the wrong lyrics while the surrounding crew scatters except for the underpaid camera and sound guys. They walked up with their hands clean and up in the air as they approached the off center Satisfying One. Jerry just kept to himself and having a merry old time inside his own head atop his six hundred horse powered perch with his eyes slanted up and to the left. The crew finally catch his attention, Jerry's eyes snapped forward, never blinking, never loosing the smile underneath.
"Hiiiiiiiii guuuuuuuuys!"
The Mother Fuckin' Satisfying One jumped down to the concrete below and hobbled with wobbly steps in his drunk stupor, only to catch his back against the side of the freshly polished truck. The bottle was still in his clutches as he pulled the head phones out and through the hipster mp3 player into the back. The hand with the bottle went up with the pointer finger stretching straight out at the crew.
"I know what you guys are looking for....you-want-to-know-my-thoughts...about tonight's events....eeeeeew, I feel sticky...."
Jerry's words came out crisp and point by point with a high pitch that only could come from inebriation. The highly intoxicating whiskey moves above his head while the Angry Hick dribbled the liquor over him and wiped his face clean.
"Ouch....Ouch.....OUCH!"
The Shotgun Kid banged the back of his head against the truck to negate the burning pain that was spreading over his face from his dumb ass action. His face a finer shade of red, looking even worse in the blinking light above him as he smiled a wide mouth smile.
"Oh, you guys are still here? How rude of me, it's a fucking celebration, BITCHES! Vlad, Vlad, VLAD THE IMPALER!...has finally returned to EVPW. I have to hand it to you Strife, I never thought I'd run into you tonight, I figured some suit would of come down and had an army of EVPW's "wrestlers", wink wink, come down with him to haul me away. But when you came down that metal ramp, ramrodding away with destructive thoughts running through your mind, I about shit myself. Actually, I may have I need to have someone do a manual check of my trousers. Anyway, Vlad, I just want you to know that you've entered into a whole new realm of pain. I'm not your average over sized psychopath, monster or brawler that you've stomped down a thousand times over in the last few years. I'm the real deal, motherfucker and I'm going to make your nervous system shake and squeal like the piggy you really are...."
The Shotgun Kid starts to down his booze flavored drink, savoring every last drip of the liquid encouragement before his arm pulls back and shattered the glass bottle over the camera lens, sending the crew running away while dropping the expensive piece of equipment. Jerry drops the cracked glass from his hand and points the camera up to look up at him. The lens was shattered and glazed over with booze and chaw spit, leaving a hazy outline of Jerry in the camera.
"Texas Death Match, the next EVPW PPV, right here in the arena. Get used to what you're seeing right now, Vladimir. Because this is how we're going to end that night. You looking up at me, punched out, while I hold my hands up in victory."
The drunken ass jumps away from the screen and claps his hands together as the scene draws to a close.
"BECAUSE HEEEEEE'S THE AMEEEEEERRRRRRICAN DREAM! COMMON MAN HAS GOT HIS GOLD! HEEEE'S AAAAAAMERRRRRRICAN DREAM!"
EOT.
