Post by hk on May 24, 2007 19:19:01 GMT -6
Scott Lanegan: “So, because of your lame ass, we’re really low on cash!”
Walt: “Not my fault that the seat belt broke-“
Scott Lanegan: “Yeah it is, if it wasn’t for you…”
I was frustrated. Big time. We were driving down the highway, the midnight sky above us. To my left, farms. To my right, farms. No vehicles were found on this long stretched road, except ours. I hadn’t seen any signs in nearly an hour. Hoping I was still driving east became a mystery to me.
Scott Lanegan: “Alright, I only got 80 bucks left. 80. That’s barely enough for gasoline.”
Walt: “What about our food? Rest stops? And stuff? And then we have to make it to Dover for your match with C4, Blackmoon and Rivid!”
I glanced over at Walt.
Scott Lanegan: “Well…”
I stopped the car and got out. I walked over to the passenger side and opened the door.
Walt: “Hey, what are you-“
I dragged Walt out of the car and shoved him to the side of the road. Taking a glance at the surroundings, it was nothing but the night sky and farmland, nothing else in sight. I closed the passenger door shut and strutted back to the driver side.
Walt: “Wait! You can’t leave me here!”
Scott Lanegan: “Sorry bud, but you’re just dead weight. See you in Dover."
I got back inside the car and started to accelerate.
Walt: “There isn’t any civilization for miles!”
Driving off, I looked back at my mirror. As a small dot I can still see Walt laying there, isolated. Felt bad what I did, but in order to strap on cash, gotta do what I gotta do, right?
I saw many sights and shit across America. I went through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Vermont. During my drive through Ohio, I stopped at an old friend’s house in Columbus.
It was around 2PM in the afternoon. I found myself in a small suburban residential living facility. Just your average American citizens roaming about. I stopped my car at a 2-story house. Neatly cut grass, newly painted sidings, freshly planted gardens and other fancy shit covered the house from the outside. My hunk of trash car made it seem like a sore thumb in this neighborhood.
Strutting up the driveway, the front door swung open. Out came a fairly muscular man, wearing a black t-shirt and red jogging pants. He had a bald head and a noticeable black goatee. This man, known as “HK” Hunter Killer, was a professional wrestler himself. He held belts in WAEG, JCW, UWW and other federations. Since my debut match was soon, I planned to visit him.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Holy shit! Scott f**king Lanegan! How long has it been?”
Scott Lanegan: “Been awhile. Since that last purchase you’ve got, at least.”
You see, HK decided to quit wrestling after various steroid stories started to pop up, about him. In order to save his career, he stopped wrestling and retired to this richy bitchy neighborhood. Worked for him, at least.
Walking around to his neatly organized garage, we talked about our current careers.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “So…you still doing that yay-yay-yo shit?"
Scott Lanegan: “Nah, I’m doing wrestling now.”
Remember as a kid, you went to a carnival, and saw one of those scary clowns? With the overalls, big red nose, f**ked up hair, and stuff? Well, take that fright, add in muscles, and a big roar of laugher. You got yourself “HK” Hunter Killer.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Hahaha…wrestling!? Where at? The elementary school yard?”
Scott Lanegan: “No, it’s-“
“HK” Hunter Killer: “No! Don’t tell me! You’re doing some online game aren’t you? Typing up a bunch of letters isn’t actual wrestling buddy!”
Scott Lanegan: “No! I’m-“
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Oh, oh, oh. You’re going to use the PlayStation 2 and-“
Scott Lanegan: “Power On Wrestling!”
HK’s laughter stopped at that last second.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “POW? They accepted you…at POW?”
Scott Lanegan: “Yeah, and I got my debut match in just a few days at Dover. Facing some guys named Explosive Device, Blacksun and Reg Reg. And your fat ass had experience in the ring before. I need some training, or whatever. All I know about wrestling is that men grab each other’s nads and rip them to the floor.”
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Well you had experience with nads before…”
Scott Lanegan: “Funny guy huh?”
After all the joking was finished, HK took my inside his house. Lots of hand crafted wood, expensive decorations, shiny tiles and the such filled the medium sized lot. He took me down to his basement. Inside was his very own wrestling ring.
Scott Lanegan: “How did you fit this in here?”
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Piece by piece, Scott.”
I grabbed the bottom rope and shook it. It was very wobbly, to say the least. I stretched it, tested it, and then slowly climbed in the ring. My foot touched the mat, and then my other, getting a feel for the ring.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Don’t climb the ropes that slow. With your physical well being, you can go much faster. By the way, what’s with that camera?”
And the training had begun.
Walt: “Not my fault that the seat belt broke-“
Scott Lanegan: “Yeah it is, if it wasn’t for you…”
I was frustrated. Big time. We were driving down the highway, the midnight sky above us. To my left, farms. To my right, farms. No vehicles were found on this long stretched road, except ours. I hadn’t seen any signs in nearly an hour. Hoping I was still driving east became a mystery to me.
Scott Lanegan: “Alright, I only got 80 bucks left. 80. That’s barely enough for gasoline.”
Walt: “What about our food? Rest stops? And stuff? And then we have to make it to Dover for your match with C4, Blackmoon and Rivid!”
I glanced over at Walt.
Scott Lanegan: “Well…”
I stopped the car and got out. I walked over to the passenger side and opened the door.
Walt: “Hey, what are you-“
I dragged Walt out of the car and shoved him to the side of the road. Taking a glance at the surroundings, it was nothing but the night sky and farmland, nothing else in sight. I closed the passenger door shut and strutted back to the driver side.
Walt: “Wait! You can’t leave me here!”
Scott Lanegan: “Sorry bud, but you’re just dead weight. See you in Dover."
I got back inside the car and started to accelerate.
Walt: “There isn’t any civilization for miles!”
Driving off, I looked back at my mirror. As a small dot I can still see Walt laying there, isolated. Felt bad what I did, but in order to strap on cash, gotta do what I gotta do, right?
I saw many sights and shit across America. I went through Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York and Vermont. During my drive through Ohio, I stopped at an old friend’s house in Columbus.
It was around 2PM in the afternoon. I found myself in a small suburban residential living facility. Just your average American citizens roaming about. I stopped my car at a 2-story house. Neatly cut grass, newly painted sidings, freshly planted gardens and other fancy shit covered the house from the outside. My hunk of trash car made it seem like a sore thumb in this neighborhood.
Strutting up the driveway, the front door swung open. Out came a fairly muscular man, wearing a black t-shirt and red jogging pants. He had a bald head and a noticeable black goatee. This man, known as “HK” Hunter Killer, was a professional wrestler himself. He held belts in WAEG, JCW, UWW and other federations. Since my debut match was soon, I planned to visit him.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Holy shit! Scott f**king Lanegan! How long has it been?”
Scott Lanegan: “Been awhile. Since that last purchase you’ve got, at least.”
You see, HK decided to quit wrestling after various steroid stories started to pop up, about him. In order to save his career, he stopped wrestling and retired to this richy bitchy neighborhood. Worked for him, at least.
Walking around to his neatly organized garage, we talked about our current careers.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “So…you still doing that yay-yay-yo shit?"
Scott Lanegan: “Nah, I’m doing wrestling now.”
Remember as a kid, you went to a carnival, and saw one of those scary clowns? With the overalls, big red nose, f**ked up hair, and stuff? Well, take that fright, add in muscles, and a big roar of laugher. You got yourself “HK” Hunter Killer.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Hahaha…wrestling!? Where at? The elementary school yard?”
Scott Lanegan: “No, it’s-“
“HK” Hunter Killer: “No! Don’t tell me! You’re doing some online game aren’t you? Typing up a bunch of letters isn’t actual wrestling buddy!”
Scott Lanegan: “No! I’m-“
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Oh, oh, oh. You’re going to use the PlayStation 2 and-“
Scott Lanegan: “Power On Wrestling!”
HK’s laughter stopped at that last second.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “POW? They accepted you…at POW?”
Scott Lanegan: “Yeah, and I got my debut match in just a few days at Dover. Facing some guys named Explosive Device, Blacksun and Reg Reg. And your fat ass had experience in the ring before. I need some training, or whatever. All I know about wrestling is that men grab each other’s nads and rip them to the floor.”
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Well you had experience with nads before…”
Scott Lanegan: “Funny guy huh?”
After all the joking was finished, HK took my inside his house. Lots of hand crafted wood, expensive decorations, shiny tiles and the such filled the medium sized lot. He took me down to his basement. Inside was his very own wrestling ring.
Scott Lanegan: “How did you fit this in here?”
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Piece by piece, Scott.”
I grabbed the bottom rope and shook it. It was very wobbly, to say the least. I stretched it, tested it, and then slowly climbed in the ring. My foot touched the mat, and then my other, getting a feel for the ring.
“HK” Hunter Killer: “Don’t climb the ropes that slow. With your physical well being, you can go much faster. By the way, what’s with that camera?”
And the training had begun.