Post by Deleted on May 1, 2008 5:38:08 GMT -5
From the pitch black of a commercial hyping up the Day Of The Dead PPV south of the border on Sunday night. The sounds of a passing rain dripping off a tree branch on to the wood and slate roof. The gentle churning and bubbling of a bong lays over top the steady rhythm of the rain drops beating quickly.
The smell of incense and peppermints linger in this room in which all we can see of thus far, is a silk drape. We slide to the left and we begin to see a woman setting behind this smooth and alluring barrier. Her head is slightly hung with a black hat acting as her vale. Matching with her black silk robe. With the moon breaking through the clouds outside and then racing through the pane of glass. The figure of this raven haired woman is as smooth a fine China doll, well it'd be more like a Japanese doll. As smooth and blimish free as fine porcelain.
She keeps the top half of her face held in secrecy with the hat turned down to continue the mystery. She speaks in a soft and very ear tease voice. Her Japanese accent flows with ease across her lips. Her words don't sound like they were just kicked out of some foreign dry cleaners daughter's mouth. This girl was invested in.
"You have come a long way to find me. I hope that your journey won't be waisted. You seek the answer to your defeat."
The camera continues to move to the side to reveal a man resting on the floor in front of her in a traditional fashion . . . on bent knees. The man with a back to us we can not make out exactly who it is, but a wild guess would probably nail it. But who would've seen the wild guess on Friday Night when Joe brought up his knees and got a lucky break. Those are the wild guesses that land you in front of a gypsy woman in the middle of the night.
The man speaks up with some fire still smoldering inside the mind, left over still from Mayhem. "I lost it. And I want it back. I want Joe Summers. And I want back the honor. My throne. I don't want to feel banished."
She glances to the hung headed warrior before her and knows that there is still so much that can be done. The amount of potential in this one wrathing soul{less} creature is near limitless. Besides, He's kinda cute. But, that isn't the objective. The objective is purely wisdom and guidance.
Once again the rapid tapping of the rain drops and the silence is broken by the rumbling of bong water bubbling out of a bong. One of such size, it needs a hose and a clear spot on the floor to set it. A large burst of gray smoke rises up in to the dank air. A testament to the power of not just the lumber in the burner, but to the bong itself when it can draw coughing from this experienced toker.
"I have to say, that the stories I have heard of You are truly amazing stories of you're accomplishments. I can not imagine what it must feel like to weld such devastating power. And yet, it goes mostly for not any more."
He sets there having to take these shots from this strange lady behind some expensive doily that she just happened 'to find' at a dirt floor flee market. He has to set there because the coughing has brought tears to His red eyes. Almost as if visions of Brooke doing wonderful things was replaying on a giant silver screen in a privet theater just for Him.
"You could swoop right in on the CPW and drive a wedge right through their hearts." Turning her head so she can again look at this stranger, who looks as if He'd bought His clothes at a vintage clothes store. One left back from 1987. She can't imagin who'd wear a Metal Church shirt these days? She also can't help but notice how tight the sleeves are on His biceps.
"I had Joe right where I wanted him. I just ... I don't know." He tells her. With smoke rising up from the cauldron between them, He stares at this woman seeing only from her nose down of her face. The rest of her body is shrouded by the elegant fabric.
"You do not want to make any excuses or come up with any reason why you failed Friday night?" Digging in to the open wound with a hot knife, she starts to root around. Trying to get to a sensitive nerve before any of the learning from this experience can begin. Through the humbling, one can see just how far down one will fall from grace.
"No. But when Joe gets a foot kicked in his mouth . . . he'll know why. It has nothing to do with Me underestimating the joker in the least. I think I pegged Him pretty good. He twisted words and things I've said to make himself sound like he is right. And then, he says I do the same to him. Well, thats just great. But, he can play the High School tough kid act and round-a-bout what I say all he wants. All I did in High School was smoke pot and played the Axe. Told the principle that if he didn't pass Me, I'd cut off his nuts and knock up his daughter. And Joe is no different than that guitar I use to hammer-on . . {pause for a slight chuckle on the inside} . . at first it gave Me fits. Pretty quick, the more I bent the strings and the more I beat on it, the better I got. And now I'm amazing. So, to say the least I'm not impressed by the fact it took a bullsh*t move at a split moment of opportunity. I might applaud that, sure. But ... that's just too easy. I guess that I expected more out of the 'great' Joe Summers."
The woman on the other side of the see through curtain sets there is silence for a couple of minutes to fully digest everything that was just rambled off. There is a great deal of information in and through all of that. She may as well just hold on. Someone opened up the gates and now the raiders are coming through village to plunder.
"Now Joe has made it on My list. So far there is only two names on it. But I'm always up for adding about seven others here real quick. Thats just in the immediate future. Who knows what the long term in the CPW holds. I might not even make it to the Pay Per View with it being held in Tijuana. I have mucho bad luck in Mexico. I got in to a knife fight with a stripper in Mexico City while playing cards once. Almost lost an eye over that."
If the woman is waiting for clearance to go ahead with her remarks, she'll be waiting for awhile. This guy can go longer than Devin Skylar on Viagra {even with the topical rush}. If the mysterious lady doesn't make like Joe Summers did and snatch that one gleam of hope against this guy, she'll never get in.
Going on as the gap in the verbal traffic is ignored by this still unknown muse of sorts. Now she must set and wait for the next chance to jump on top of Him, er, .. uhm, out there ... in the conversation. He too is looking her over, wondering what it would be like to have His very own dancing Geisha.
"I once got in to a Mexican Stand Off over three and a half pounds of Mexican read hairs, that was outside of Mexico City. And it looks like I have found Myself in another Stand Off this Sunday. And now, I am starting to question My motives."
The woman looks over to Him still keeping the rim of the hat covering the top half of her face. Her lips rest together as they start to grin at her guest, whom is hooked up to the huka setting between them again. Watching the smoke climb to the celling as He jets out a gray hazy stream. It meshes with the already abondante amount floating above them.
"What was your motives before? Money? Glory? Power? You can not shortcut your way to anything ... because once you cut one corner, you create two more."
He looks at her almost as if He is ready to agree with these voodoo ideas. That or the smoke is helping the words make more sense to Him. Either way, her words have make perfect sense and are stating to appeal to Him so He decides to listen on as she continues her teaching.
"The more you cut ... the more corners there will be. You can not approach this looking for angles. You must face it head on and show that deep in your heart you have nothing to fear. And if you are going to die, you will fall with honor and valor."
His head tilts off to the side as by now all of her words are being soaked in to His brain with relative ease. His eye lids start to fall down about half way. His eyes follow a bead of sweat running down the smooth cheek of this voodoo woman that has Him captivated. It could be the Billy Squier teaching Him about The Stroke that has Him spellbound, one thing is for sure, His mind is consumed by the combination of this little Lotus playing hard to get and a Stroke being played hard.
"I think I am understanding what you want Me to see ... but, you don't understand ... I kicked a chair in the face of some guy I don't even know! ... off of a cage none the less."
She say noting at first trying to see how that is relevant to anything she'd been telling Him. "I am not sure I know what you mean."
We see Him drop His head and shake it side to side almost to say He expected her to get that. If anyone should, He thinks, She should be able to wrap around His words. It isn't bad enough that 'normal' people 'in their sound minds' like a Joe Summers can't grab hold ... but she is a witch. Or a gypsy.
"The guy isn't even in My upcoming match! I just blasted the first guy I saw beneath Me. I am willing to sacrifice people that are meaningless to My gain. And in retrospect, I think I hit the wrong guy. I should have put that chair down the throat of Andrew Helms or Karen Dimarcio. Hell, it could have been served up for Axl James Slade or Denni Summers just as well."
"Then why did you hit this other person?" She can't help but ask.
He lays back grabbing a pillow chair she has out for Him. Melting in as if an organ rings In A Godda His head and the inebriated voice of Doug Ingle staggers through His ears. The water churns in the belly of the huka. A wide smile swings out across His face and the smoke billows out.
"For a number of reasons I guess. First, I wanted those other . . . more worthy recipients, to see what they have to look forward to at the Pay Per View. Then second, would be to show that I don't care who it is in My way. And I suppose the best reason would have to be . . . I just wanted to. I like to hear that smack. I wanted them to hear it too. Tyler Shane and Bo Slade can thank Me too. I just helped them out a great deal. So, if either of them win that match and takes home that Brutal Havok belt, they can thank Me by either dropping a check in the mail for half the cash prize that comes with that shiny new belt. Or ... their first title defense can be something amazing. It'd also be their last title defense. But, it'd defenetly be amazing"
He can not help but to be taken by a sweet sound. No, not His own voice. He's past that stage. The bubbling of the bong halts Him from going any further. His eyes follow the velvet hose and tracing it up to the moist lips of this hidden drag-irl. Grinning at the lung strength she is displaying.
Trying to pick back up from the extended bong solo, He doesn't need another distraction by another skirt at another Pay Per View. Maybe some one is doing this to Him on purpose. Maybe the Pay Per View opponents know about His weakness. His one and only weakness. Ok, one of two. The lady's. Not all the lady's get a free ride to heaven and back, some of them have to pay. Still a weakness.
"That is getting ahead of the game. And that isn't where I'm at. I am at the Pay Per View. The Devil is jess waiting for the mortals to walk in to the day of the dead. Walk in with their heads held high and proud. Every single one of them with aspirations of somehow getting a seat in the new order that will undoubtedly take power after this war is over. Well, the first War . . . The Great War, will be over. I want for them all to stand with pride as if they were cough up in a congregation with the organ playing and the chorus voicing the everlasting glory and triumph over evil. Stopping the dread it brings with. Oh, the horrors of this world if that evil is allowed to surface will be inhuman. It'll be amazing."
The hostess of our meeting of the out there minds is actually slightly mesmerized by what it is He is implying to her. She's pretty certain who He is telling her He is. Yet, she still wants to go with Him and take His hand.
"Kannon, Karen Dimarcio, Andrew Helms, Solidus Filth, Axl James Slade, Joe Summers, Denni Summers, and The Joker. They all need to walk in to that cell with their heads high with nothing less than victory guiding them. I want no excuses when I take off their heads and use them to warn others the results of anyone that trys to hult this revolution."
He can't help but find it becoming increasingly hard to concentrate on anything other than this girl, her lips, and being them wrapped around that hose. Sucking the smoke up and in to her mouth and then to herlungs. It is nearly too much for Him to sit through. And His mind starts to trail away from the wresting. Becoming more about the brewing's down below, the water in the huka of course. And less about the climactic battle at hand that is to end this horrendous War. Thus, it hits Him ...
"Wait a minuet . . !"
The bubbling of the water stops and she looks to Him. Peaking through the pieces of wicker making the Japanese hat covering the top half of her Japanese face. He sets up and starts looking around at the smoke filled room. Anyone setting in this room has got to contact have them they do. Turning and giving the dank room a good scanning before returning back to face her after the survey had been taken.
He starts to shake His head slow to start. "This ain't right."
"What do you mean?" She asks.
"No. No, this is all wrong. I know what the deal is." He tells her as an opening of hostility starts to trickle out.
"What deal?" She holds up her hands punctuating the question.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho-oo. You are good. Ok, I gotcha." He tells her wagging His finger and shaking His head yes to tell her that He's on to her shenanigans. He stands up and moves away slowly. Avoiding this obviouse trap. Using that purposely extra comfortable, extra fluffy pillow to lull her victims to sleep with the help of her oriental wild ganja before striking.
"I do not know what deal you talk of." Trying like hell to convince Him she is on the level.
"That's great honey, but I ain't buying it. Not this time. Last month someone got Me by getting My then girlfriend to leave. And now this month for a bigger Pay Per View . . . one of the CPW persons is trying to take Me out before the damn thing even takes place!"
"What?" Standing on her knees yet still barricaded behind not just the wall of smoke, but by the see through silk drape.
"I must poss a pretty serious threat for them to try using someone from The Yakuza. Even though, they did sent a very delicious assassin to try and take Me out. Well it isn't going to work sister!" He tells her emphatically as He steps closer through the thick fog and to the door.
"But, ..." Nope, not another word gets said before He cuts her off as she was a one time 15 year old secret fling or friend of the family and He was a 38 year old Rocket armed pitcher up in the show.
"I'm on the freaking poster! You are not going to ruin this for Me. Baby, I am ... Jess Amazing!" Pushing open the swinging doors open with might to help emphasize the one time use of His name per segment.
The girl sets back on her ankles and feet . Saying nothing because thats what was clearly made He wanted. Instead, she'll sit and she'll watch Him leave. Not saying a word of kindness, a word of hate, a word of rewards, not even a word of warning. He'll figure it out. She thinks to herself as a sly grin unravels below the brim of her hat.
Nodding His head, He turns to leave her setting there silenced. Turning to head in to the light, His feet are stopped from moving forward. Usually this is nothing to cause any kind of fuss about. But, when your torso is still going forward and the legs are stopped by, oh, lets say ... a window frame, this is something to worry about. It all happens so fast that the only thing He can really do is reach out hoping to grasp hold of a curtain, a lamp shade, this chicks silk sheet, anything. There is nothing, just the sight of her setting there raising up the hat to watch Him fall out of three story window {hopefully for Him, He'll land in some bushes}.
It is one of the most beautiful faces He has ever seen. It's just too bad that she waited so long to show it to Him. We can hear Him yelling out 'Biii' before a thud on the ground and the air is forced out of His body in one massive breath .. .. landing next to the hedges .. .. the hard ground filled in the 'tch' of the word. Might need an ambulance.
The camera rushes to the window to see if He is alright, but it is dark out side. And the light He thought was in the hallway was avyually a light in the parking lot. Turning back to see if the gorgeous Japanese girl is going to also rush of to check. No, just gabs a pillow and clings it to her chest. Her eyes close and a giant smile widens as she reflects on this encounter. More on a particular individual that is certain to be an Amazing factor in this whole game of War.
~static~
The smell of incense and peppermints linger in this room in which all we can see of thus far, is a silk drape. We slide to the left and we begin to see a woman setting behind this smooth and alluring barrier. Her head is slightly hung with a black hat acting as her vale. Matching with her black silk robe. With the moon breaking through the clouds outside and then racing through the pane of glass. The figure of this raven haired woman is as smooth a fine China doll, well it'd be more like a Japanese doll. As smooth and blimish free as fine porcelain.
She keeps the top half of her face held in secrecy with the hat turned down to continue the mystery. She speaks in a soft and very ear tease voice. Her Japanese accent flows with ease across her lips. Her words don't sound like they were just kicked out of some foreign dry cleaners daughter's mouth. This girl was invested in.
"You have come a long way to find me. I hope that your journey won't be waisted. You seek the answer to your defeat."
The camera continues to move to the side to reveal a man resting on the floor in front of her in a traditional fashion . . . on bent knees. The man with a back to us we can not make out exactly who it is, but a wild guess would probably nail it. But who would've seen the wild guess on Friday Night when Joe brought up his knees and got a lucky break. Those are the wild guesses that land you in front of a gypsy woman in the middle of the night.
The man speaks up with some fire still smoldering inside the mind, left over still from Mayhem. "I lost it. And I want it back. I want Joe Summers. And I want back the honor. My throne. I don't want to feel banished."
She glances to the hung headed warrior before her and knows that there is still so much that can be done. The amount of potential in this one wrathing soul{less} creature is near limitless. Besides, He's kinda cute. But, that isn't the objective. The objective is purely wisdom and guidance.
Once again the rapid tapping of the rain drops and the silence is broken by the rumbling of bong water bubbling out of a bong. One of such size, it needs a hose and a clear spot on the floor to set it. A large burst of gray smoke rises up in to the dank air. A testament to the power of not just the lumber in the burner, but to the bong itself when it can draw coughing from this experienced toker.
"I have to say, that the stories I have heard of You are truly amazing stories of you're accomplishments. I can not imagine what it must feel like to weld such devastating power. And yet, it goes mostly for not any more."
He sets there having to take these shots from this strange lady behind some expensive doily that she just happened 'to find' at a dirt floor flee market. He has to set there because the coughing has brought tears to His red eyes. Almost as if visions of Brooke doing wonderful things was replaying on a giant silver screen in a privet theater just for Him.
"You could swoop right in on the CPW and drive a wedge right through their hearts." Turning her head so she can again look at this stranger, who looks as if He'd bought His clothes at a vintage clothes store. One left back from 1987. She can't imagin who'd wear a Metal Church shirt these days? She also can't help but notice how tight the sleeves are on His biceps.
"I had Joe right where I wanted him. I just ... I don't know." He tells her. With smoke rising up from the cauldron between them, He stares at this woman seeing only from her nose down of her face. The rest of her body is shrouded by the elegant fabric.
"You do not want to make any excuses or come up with any reason why you failed Friday night?" Digging in to the open wound with a hot knife, she starts to root around. Trying to get to a sensitive nerve before any of the learning from this experience can begin. Through the humbling, one can see just how far down one will fall from grace.
"No. But when Joe gets a foot kicked in his mouth . . . he'll know why. It has nothing to do with Me underestimating the joker in the least. I think I pegged Him pretty good. He twisted words and things I've said to make himself sound like he is right. And then, he says I do the same to him. Well, thats just great. But, he can play the High School tough kid act and round-a-bout what I say all he wants. All I did in High School was smoke pot and played the Axe. Told the principle that if he didn't pass Me, I'd cut off his nuts and knock up his daughter. And Joe is no different than that guitar I use to hammer-on . . {pause for a slight chuckle on the inside} . . at first it gave Me fits. Pretty quick, the more I bent the strings and the more I beat on it, the better I got. And now I'm amazing. So, to say the least I'm not impressed by the fact it took a bullsh*t move at a split moment of opportunity. I might applaud that, sure. But ... that's just too easy. I guess that I expected more out of the 'great' Joe Summers."
The woman on the other side of the see through curtain sets there is silence for a couple of minutes to fully digest everything that was just rambled off. There is a great deal of information in and through all of that. She may as well just hold on. Someone opened up the gates and now the raiders are coming through village to plunder.
"Now Joe has made it on My list. So far there is only two names on it. But I'm always up for adding about seven others here real quick. Thats just in the immediate future. Who knows what the long term in the CPW holds. I might not even make it to the Pay Per View with it being held in Tijuana. I have mucho bad luck in Mexico. I got in to a knife fight with a stripper in Mexico City while playing cards once. Almost lost an eye over that."
If the woman is waiting for clearance to go ahead with her remarks, she'll be waiting for awhile. This guy can go longer than Devin Skylar on Viagra {even with the topical rush}. If the mysterious lady doesn't make like Joe Summers did and snatch that one gleam of hope against this guy, she'll never get in.
Going on as the gap in the verbal traffic is ignored by this still unknown muse of sorts. Now she must set and wait for the next chance to jump on top of Him, er, .. uhm, out there ... in the conversation. He too is looking her over, wondering what it would be like to have His very own dancing Geisha.
"I once got in to a Mexican Stand Off over three and a half pounds of Mexican read hairs, that was outside of Mexico City. And it looks like I have found Myself in another Stand Off this Sunday. And now, I am starting to question My motives."
The woman looks over to Him still keeping the rim of the hat covering the top half of her face. Her lips rest together as they start to grin at her guest, whom is hooked up to the huka setting between them again. Watching the smoke climb to the celling as He jets out a gray hazy stream. It meshes with the already abondante amount floating above them.
"What was your motives before? Money? Glory? Power? You can not shortcut your way to anything ... because once you cut one corner, you create two more."
He looks at her almost as if He is ready to agree with these voodoo ideas. That or the smoke is helping the words make more sense to Him. Either way, her words have make perfect sense and are stating to appeal to Him so He decides to listen on as she continues her teaching.
"The more you cut ... the more corners there will be. You can not approach this looking for angles. You must face it head on and show that deep in your heart you have nothing to fear. And if you are going to die, you will fall with honor and valor."
His head tilts off to the side as by now all of her words are being soaked in to His brain with relative ease. His eye lids start to fall down about half way. His eyes follow a bead of sweat running down the smooth cheek of this voodoo woman that has Him captivated. It could be the Billy Squier teaching Him about The Stroke that has Him spellbound, one thing is for sure, His mind is consumed by the combination of this little Lotus playing hard to get and a Stroke being played hard.
"I think I am understanding what you want Me to see ... but, you don't understand ... I kicked a chair in the face of some guy I don't even know! ... off of a cage none the less."
She say noting at first trying to see how that is relevant to anything she'd been telling Him. "I am not sure I know what you mean."
We see Him drop His head and shake it side to side almost to say He expected her to get that. If anyone should, He thinks, She should be able to wrap around His words. It isn't bad enough that 'normal' people 'in their sound minds' like a Joe Summers can't grab hold ... but she is a witch. Or a gypsy.
"The guy isn't even in My upcoming match! I just blasted the first guy I saw beneath Me. I am willing to sacrifice people that are meaningless to My gain. And in retrospect, I think I hit the wrong guy. I should have put that chair down the throat of Andrew Helms or Karen Dimarcio. Hell, it could have been served up for Axl James Slade or Denni Summers just as well."
"Then why did you hit this other person?" She can't help but ask.
He lays back grabbing a pillow chair she has out for Him. Melting in as if an organ rings In A Godda His head and the inebriated voice of Doug Ingle staggers through His ears. The water churns in the belly of the huka. A wide smile swings out across His face and the smoke billows out.
"For a number of reasons I guess. First, I wanted those other . . . more worthy recipients, to see what they have to look forward to at the Pay Per View. Then second, would be to show that I don't care who it is in My way. And I suppose the best reason would have to be . . . I just wanted to. I like to hear that smack. I wanted them to hear it too. Tyler Shane and Bo Slade can thank Me too. I just helped them out a great deal. So, if either of them win that match and takes home that Brutal Havok belt, they can thank Me by either dropping a check in the mail for half the cash prize that comes with that shiny new belt. Or ... their first title defense can be something amazing. It'd also be their last title defense. But, it'd defenetly be amazing"
He can not help but to be taken by a sweet sound. No, not His own voice. He's past that stage. The bubbling of the bong halts Him from going any further. His eyes follow the velvet hose and tracing it up to the moist lips of this hidden drag-irl. Grinning at the lung strength she is displaying.
Trying to pick back up from the extended bong solo, He doesn't need another distraction by another skirt at another Pay Per View. Maybe some one is doing this to Him on purpose. Maybe the Pay Per View opponents know about His weakness. His one and only weakness. Ok, one of two. The lady's. Not all the lady's get a free ride to heaven and back, some of them have to pay. Still a weakness.
"That is getting ahead of the game. And that isn't where I'm at. I am at the Pay Per View. The Devil is jess waiting for the mortals to walk in to the day of the dead. Walk in with their heads held high and proud. Every single one of them with aspirations of somehow getting a seat in the new order that will undoubtedly take power after this war is over. Well, the first War . . . The Great War, will be over. I want for them all to stand with pride as if they were cough up in a congregation with the organ playing and the chorus voicing the everlasting glory and triumph over evil. Stopping the dread it brings with. Oh, the horrors of this world if that evil is allowed to surface will be inhuman. It'll be amazing."
The hostess of our meeting of the out there minds is actually slightly mesmerized by what it is He is implying to her. She's pretty certain who He is telling her He is. Yet, she still wants to go with Him and take His hand.
"Kannon, Karen Dimarcio, Andrew Helms, Solidus Filth, Axl James Slade, Joe Summers, Denni Summers, and The Joker. They all need to walk in to that cell with their heads high with nothing less than victory guiding them. I want no excuses when I take off their heads and use them to warn others the results of anyone that trys to hult this revolution."
He can't help but find it becoming increasingly hard to concentrate on anything other than this girl, her lips, and being them wrapped around that hose. Sucking the smoke up and in to her mouth and then to herlungs. It is nearly too much for Him to sit through. And His mind starts to trail away from the wresting. Becoming more about the brewing's down below, the water in the huka of course. And less about the climactic battle at hand that is to end this horrendous War. Thus, it hits Him ...
"Wait a minuet . . !"
The bubbling of the water stops and she looks to Him. Peaking through the pieces of wicker making the Japanese hat covering the top half of her Japanese face. He sets up and starts looking around at the smoke filled room. Anyone setting in this room has got to contact have them they do. Turning and giving the dank room a good scanning before returning back to face her after the survey had been taken.
He starts to shake His head slow to start. "This ain't right."
"What do you mean?" She asks.
"No. No, this is all wrong. I know what the deal is." He tells her as an opening of hostility starts to trickle out.
"What deal?" She holds up her hands punctuating the question.
"Oh-ho-ho-ho-oo. You are good. Ok, I gotcha." He tells her wagging His finger and shaking His head yes to tell her that He's on to her shenanigans. He stands up and moves away slowly. Avoiding this obviouse trap. Using that purposely extra comfortable, extra fluffy pillow to lull her victims to sleep with the help of her oriental wild ganja before striking.
"I do not know what deal you talk of." Trying like hell to convince Him she is on the level.
"That's great honey, but I ain't buying it. Not this time. Last month someone got Me by getting My then girlfriend to leave. And now this month for a bigger Pay Per View . . . one of the CPW persons is trying to take Me out before the damn thing even takes place!"
"What?" Standing on her knees yet still barricaded behind not just the wall of smoke, but by the see through silk drape.
"I must poss a pretty serious threat for them to try using someone from The Yakuza. Even though, they did sent a very delicious assassin to try and take Me out. Well it isn't going to work sister!" He tells her emphatically as He steps closer through the thick fog and to the door.
"But, ..." Nope, not another word gets said before He cuts her off as she was a one time 15 year old secret fling or friend of the family and He was a 38 year old Rocket armed pitcher up in the show.
"I'm on the freaking poster! You are not going to ruin this for Me. Baby, I am ... Jess Amazing!" Pushing open the swinging doors open with might to help emphasize the one time use of His name per segment.
The girl sets back on her ankles and feet . Saying nothing because thats what was clearly made He wanted. Instead, she'll sit and she'll watch Him leave. Not saying a word of kindness, a word of hate, a word of rewards, not even a word of warning. He'll figure it out. She thinks to herself as a sly grin unravels below the brim of her hat.
Nodding His head, He turns to leave her setting there silenced. Turning to head in to the light, His feet are stopped from moving forward. Usually this is nothing to cause any kind of fuss about. But, when your torso is still going forward and the legs are stopped by, oh, lets say ... a window frame, this is something to worry about. It all happens so fast that the only thing He can really do is reach out hoping to grasp hold of a curtain, a lamp shade, this chicks silk sheet, anything. There is nothing, just the sight of her setting there raising up the hat to watch Him fall out of three story window {hopefully for Him, He'll land in some bushes}.
It is one of the most beautiful faces He has ever seen. It's just too bad that she waited so long to show it to Him. We can hear Him yelling out 'Biii' before a thud on the ground and the air is forced out of His body in one massive breath .. .. landing next to the hedges .. .. the hard ground filled in the 'tch' of the word. Might need an ambulance.
The camera rushes to the window to see if He is alright, but it is dark out side. And the light He thought was in the hallway was avyually a light in the parking lot. Turning back to see if the gorgeous Japanese girl is going to also rush of to check. No, just gabs a pillow and clings it to her chest. Her eyes close and a giant smile widens as she reflects on this encounter. More on a particular individual that is certain to be an Amazing factor in this whole game of War.
~static~