::++:: N A R C O T I C S ::++::
Sept 5, 2016 7:15:36 GMT
Valentina Lemay, Ernie Parker, and 1 more like this
Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2016 7:15:36 GMT
::++:: N A R C O T I C S ::++:: LIFESTYLE CHOICE – IV ::++::
Ontario County Town Hall
Naples, NY – September 2, 2016
9:28 AM
“Next!” The OLD LADY behind the glass was quite ratchet. Obese, with Jabba the Hut rolls, and large bi-focal glasses that made her look like a frog. Thin lips. Double chin. Eww. It was disgust – “NEXT!” She yells at the top of her lungs, breaking my concentration. I step forward and greet the Old Lady with a welcoming smile, “Hello!” I fumble around with a folder trying to find my documents.
“I need two forms of idea lady. Come on.” The Old Lady says with an impatient tone. I realize her ugly looks are intentional while sliding the folder across the counter. The Old Lady snatches up the folder and begins sifting through the documents before removing two items of paper and sending them through a copier.
They weren’t exactly nice around here. Perhaps I had been in Texas for too long, they at least will pretend to be friendly. It is the way of the world I suppose. While waiting and responding to all of her questions I begin to wonder how I’m going to make it in Naples without seeing Harper and no man around. Toys just wont do it for me. I may just have a bitch attitude for a while.
“Here you go. Have a great day.” The Old Lady practically shoves me out the door with her tone of voice, but I still smile and thank her for her time before hurrying out the glass doors of the town hall.
GHOST TOWN. That’s all this place was, why Montana had moved out here I will never know. She apparently married some fortune five hundred mother fucker that treats her right. Whatever the situation, there’s a population of about two thousand and a lot of countryside. The sight was beautiful and very calming. It was different than the inner city, not the stereotypical climate you’re expecting when you about the state of New York.
Resembling the creepy mid-west and something out of a 70’s horror flick, there was definitely the possibility of an Amityville relapse. My Lyft driver, who I now owe somewhere around four hundred dollars in driving mileage, reaches the braud cast iron front gates infused with brick and mortar. It wasn’t very welcoming, but the perfectly built mansion was just what the doctor ordered. Montana had hit it big. I was just hoping he wasn’t over fifty-five or a grandpa.
Manny, the driver who was probably tired of me by now, drops the luggage on the door step next to me and hurries back to his vehicle. Manny was gone before I could finger punch the doorbell. After a lengthy pause I am greeted by my dread-twin cousin, Montana Wilson with a big hug and a lot of excitement.
“AGGHHH!! OH MY GOD!” We jump around in an embrace before grabbing my luggage and hurrying into the house. The door shuts and my jaw nearly drops. “No. Fucking. Way.” I drop my squirtle backpack on the wood floor and leap into the arms of my lover, Harper McGuinness. I mixed his scent… his touch… his kiss.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Hello love.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask while wiping lipstick from his lower lip. Montana is quick to answer before Harper can ever respond.
[M O N T A N A::++:: W I L S O N]: “I didn’t want you to be lonely in this small town so I had Glen bring Harper over to stay with us. The mansion is built for all of us.”
I couldn’t believe my ears, the glory of god is just too amazing, this was like the coolest thing ever. This enormous house, six bedrooms, four and a half bathrooms, a theater room, and a basement. This was truly the good life. “Glen?” My eyes dart to Montana curiously.
[M O N T A N A::++:: W I L S O N]: “Yes, Glen. Glen Hendricks, the once billionaire playboy from Atlanta. Had all the mental issues, made headlines, yes. That’s him.”
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “He’s pretty cool also. I’ve been training in the gym in the basement with him for two days now. They said it’d be best for me to surprise you when you arrived.”
I kindly thank Montana with another hug and a peck on the cheek. “There’s a gym in the basement? What kind of—“
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Yes. MMA, boxing, wrestling you name it. It’s that gym. We have a wrestling ring and a boxing ring.”
[M O N T A N A::++:: W I L S O N]: “It’s pretty cool here Mysti. I this will really help you elevate your career. Well, I’m off to bartend at the local tavern in old downtown, near city hall. You two should come out after you break in your new room.”
Montana winks and leaves, shutting the front door behind her. Harper grabs all my luggage and we make our way up the spiral staircase, down the hallway and into the last bedroom on the right. It was perfect. “Oh wow, this one has windows!” I exclaim as I step further into my new realm of awesome. It was already furnished with a flat screen television, a California king bed, and to my surprise a two foot glass smoking instrument. Otherwise known as, THE GOVERNMENT. The government had been passed down from Montana’s brother after he went to prison for smuggling marijuana across state borderlines.
I drop my bags to the floor and Harper tosses a few of them into the walk in closet. “The basement. Now.” I demand in a fierce tone. Harper cracks a grin.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “You don’t want to put your stuff away first? Maybe take care—OOPH!”
I bury my knuckles deep into Harper’s diaphragm just hoping he either shits himself or dies. “Basement. Now.”
HENDRICK’S ESTATES – BASEMENT GYM
Naples, NY – September 2, 2016
9:58 AM
“Get up!” The rage was real and I wasn’t having it today. Harper rises to his feet, stunned and amazed at the tenacity and determination in the fight I was bringing to him today. An arm drag followed by a hip toss shortly after and Harper finally starts questioning his current life situation.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “What got into you?!”
“Who in the fuck is Ash Scion?!” I shout with the intensity of a roar. Harper dodges the right hook and then side step the buzzsaw kick attempt as well. He was quicker, stronger, and his looks were so distracting. The toughest fight you can have is against the person you love. But when they are treacherous it makes it easier to kill them.
I envision the image of Ash and Harper sitting on the bed smoking a cigarette after a wild night romp. I think majority of the rage was jealousy. I wasn’t into sharing. Especially not what belonged to me.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Mysti..baby stop. Who is Ash?!”
“Wow!” His words let me know just how irresponsible he was. “You didn’t even get her name?! Really?! What the fuck Harper?!” The blood pumped through my veins with more adrenaline than Jason Statham in an action sequence in Crank. I wanted his blood in a milk carton in the back of my freezer. Harper steps forward and with perfect timing I leap into the air and bring Harper down with a head-scissors takedown that I quickly transition into a triangle choke.
Harper gasps for air and writhes in pain.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Mysti, stop. Stop. I know who Ash is. Stop. We weren’t official then babe!”
His words cause a minor blackout and I feel the tendons in his shoulder about to give.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Ow. My arm. Mysti, my arm!”
His shouts echo through my ear canal like the latest headline featuring Taylor Swift and the Kardashian regime. I release him and roll backwards into the corner, resting my arms on the middle ropes and leaning my head back against the turnbuckle pad.
Harper rolls onto his knees, clinching his arm he rises in an extraordinaire amount of pain.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “What happened? When did you run into Scion?”
“She’s signed to Epic Online Wrestling. She made it a point to mention that she knew you.” The conviction in my voice said it all. I was hurting, badly. It was so old to everyone else, but so new to me. I hated misinformation, and to make it worse, I wouldn’t know if Ash was lying or if Harper was.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “And from the feeling I’m getting from that triangle choke, I don’t think Scion will be much of an issue for you.”
“I’m upset with you Harper. I thought we were always truthful with one another. You let that one slip.” My pierces his conscious and I can sense his sincere regret. I wasn’t looking to come down on him, I just wanted him to realize it upset me. He steps closer to me and extends his hand.
[ H A R P E R::++::M C G U I N N E S S]: “Can I make it up to you with a home cooked meal, my love?”
He always knew what to say. I glance up into his eyes and grab hold of his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.” I snap at him.
“Yeah. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.” An unfamiliar voice echoes from the bottom of the stairwell leading into the basement. Blonde hair, blue eyes, he was the perfection the third reich was seeking. Glen Hendricks, steps further into the dimly lit basement, becoming more apparent as he approaches. Dressed in an expensive suit, fresh out of Grand Theft Auto, Glen Hendricks greets us.
[ G L E N::++::H E N D R I C K S]: “HOLY CRAP! You didn’t lie Harper. She is cute.”
He steps onto the ring apron and extend his hand over the top rope. I finish off the handshake as he continues his greeting.
[ G L E N::++::H E N D R I C K S]: “Welcome roommate, welcome. I’m Glen, rest assure everything is paid for, you just make sure to do well in your promotion and everything will be taken care of. I’ve heard a lot about you, but I would like to get to know the both of you better. I can have Frankward our house keeper prepare a tasty meal for us and afterwards we can finish up the night with Montana over at the tavern. What do ya say?”
Adamant he was, but his vibe just screamed trustworthy. Before I could answer he had already jumped down from the ring apron and was halfway to the stairwell. Harper steps down from the ring apron and I follow after him. Tonight I was going to learn a lot about my future, and the expectations were high. We walk up the stairwell toward the light of the home, leaving the darkness of the basement and ascending into the glowing goodness god has placed before me. I was doped up on something spiritual and the longer I bask in it, the easier this new life appears to be. We reach the top of the steps and I get a notification from the galaxy on5. It was a text message from Hope Gordon. Valentina Lemay had announced the participants of the “Lethal Lottery” to enter the Championship Series.
At this moment I dropped to one knee just as the doors to the basement shut. What was going on? Why was this happening? Was I nervous? I look up and although blinded by the overhead lights, I see silhouettes of Glen and Harper standing near me. I can’t make out what they are saying but I can see that they are concerned. Everything goes dark and I fall lifelessly to the floor in the kitchen. Just as I go out completely, only then do I realize, I’m so fucked. It hit me like ketamine.
F A D E . T O . B L A C K
::++:: ::++:: SAVAGE OVERDOSE OF SENSATIONALISM ::++:: ::++::
“It’s been a long road to this moment. I’ve come to a new place, a new home, in a new land, a foreign traveler, a nomad of sorts, with the intention of doing good deeds. I once thought it was possible, but the more I analyze it, the more I realize there’s no way to make it on good deeds alone. There is no place for good deeds. When the bell rings you’ve got to let it all out and unleash the bastard soul from within.”
“The EOW is an open playing field for many and anyone can take the company in any direction, but to the uninformed, and unmatched scumbags that have joined the Victory roster, prepare to be crippled by the savage overdose of sensationalism. The game of thrones has begun and it’s open season on the EOW Ultimate Championship and any competitor dreaming of claiming it’s glory.”
“Worth more than a medallion and as good as currency, the EOW Ultimate Championship brings prestige, respect, and heritage. The competitor with the ultimate game plan is the only worthy protector. When you’re a champion you’re much more than is portrayed. A champion is the life-blood of the promotion. A champion creates the legacy, and in the Championship series you’ve got eight competitors that can potentially do just that. But out of the eight with potential only one is destined to supersede and achieve the Ultimate prize.”
“Fortunately for the seven, lucky numero ocho is Mysti Savage. I’m lucky number eight because the Savage reign will be infinite. The name of the game is survival of the fittest and it’s my duty to guarantee that none of the other competitors are fit. You’re all contenders, but none of you are real champions. You don’t want the basic bitch, Felix Hartley as your champion. Imagine Victory being headlined by that walking plastic surgery ad. Week in and week out we’d be dealing with the Manicure Manuscripts and the Ass, Class, and Sass perspective which will die as fast any other fashion fad. This isn’t a fashion show, this is wrestling, and your woe is me attitude is gonna get you touched. It might be by the fingertip of god, and it might be by me. You’re a needy pretentious bitch who probably feels she deserves to be Ultimate champion because that’s how it plays out in her perfect world.”
“This is wrestling not the latest twerk team festival and if Felix Hartley were to be the front runner in the Championship series, good god, just prepare yourself for the drop in ratings and the level of respectable viewers. This bitch wouldn’t know class if it hit her in the face with the backend of a shotgun. Felix Hartley isn’t meant for the long haul, she’s going to job to Savage. End of discussion.”
“Then there’s my buddy, “The Villain”… “Jackie Boy”… Jack Owyns. This guy doesn’t give a single fuck about anything and he’s willing to voice it. Sadly, he’s full of shit and his skills wont back up the diahrrea his shithole is spewing. The Ash Ketchum of Victory, he wants to be the very best like no one ever was. You’re heading smack into a brick wall son. You believe showboating and being a loud mouth will aid you in intimidating your opponent to victory, while lacking a solid wrestling background. Again, this is wrestling, not an I wear my shades at night competition. The championship series will be your greatest accomplishment before disaster strikes. Even if you were to be champion, you’d be a one hit wonder and relinquish the title to injury or get beat in your first defense.”
“As villainess as you pretend to be, deep down inside you’re a lost little boy who just needs a proper ass kicking. Your flaws will become very apparent to you when you step into the ring. To carry a championship successfully you will have to do better than a bad attitude and a desperate perception of the obvious truth that has been presented to you. You’re all going to drink the sensational kool-aid and get brainwashed into the methods of sensationalism.”
“Bryan Williams, Finn Whelan, Jason Kaine, Matthew Page, you’re not exempt from the magical meltdown that’s headed into your life path. You guys are not worthy of claiming to be champions either. Marvelous Matthew Page… ha. He’s like Felix Hartley’s baby cousin or something. He’s the fascist gym, tan, laundry type and the Ultimate crown has no place for that shit. No way. The botox, silicon, and whey protein just isn’t going to fly. That’s not the making of a champion. Matthew Page would rather have a star on the Hollywood walk of fame than to be a champion. He’s misguided on the principals of wrestling and his ego is going to get the best of him.”
“Jason Kaine. Unbreakable. Ha. The Bruce Willis of Epic Online Wrestling. I’m going to enjoy watching you work so hard only to fall short. You’re too stubborn to realize you’re better off not showing up to the fight. Hell, majority of you are better off not showing up. Finn Whelan and Bryan Williams, the last of the dying competition. From the outside looking in, I respect your individual styles, and by respect, I’m politely saying I’ll allow you to shine until you’re forced to taste the wrath of Savage.”
E N D
