Post by T-Robosaurus Rex on Jul 22, 2009 19:42:02 GMT -5
[‘Diamond’ Jack comes stumbling through the curtains to the backstage area, covered in dust, blood and debris, he has his true love Gabrielle Montgomery draped over his shoulder, and the Unified Global Champion, Travis Roberts, hung over one arm. As he reaches the safety of the backstage area, it becomes clear that chaos rules the depths of the Tokyo Dome on this night. Ring crew and paramedics rush around them, tending to various injured athletes, no-one notices the two main event participants supported by the ‘Diamond One’, too tied up in whatever task they have been given earlier. Jack looks around quickly, scanning his eyes from side to side, before screaming.]
Diamond Jack : ‘WHERE THE HELL IS DOCTOR PROFESSOR!?!?’
[For the first time since coming through the curtain Diamond Jack finally feels some of the eyes rest upon him, and the two combatants he supports. Slowly, but surely, all the eyes in the direct vicinity turn towards the trio, and as they do an eerie hush descends upon the arena, as the various members of GIW’s backstage menagerie come face to face with the result of the main event. Their jaws drop, and the hush is broken by the sound of a few random people dry retching at the gruesome sight, and a few others start to mumble under their breath. ‘Diamond’ Jack stares in disbelief at those that surround him, those that just stare at him are met with a steely, determined look. After a few moments of being observed ‘Diamond’ Jack loses his patience and screams once more]
Diamond Jack – ‘I SAID, WHERE THE HELL IS DOCTOR PROFESSOR?’
[His echo bounces across the Tokyo Dome backstage area and once again a hush descends around him, as for the first time people actually look at the ‘Diamond in the Rough’ rather than the two bodies he carries. A few people point down the long hall that spans in front of them, and Jack narrows his eyes, and begins to walk, labouredly down the hall. Each step takes a great amount of effort from the ‘Diamond One’, and his progress is obviously slow. He looks at his beloved Gabrielle, blood pouring from her wounds, hair matted with her own bodily fluids, eyes completely shut, her hands clasping to his body, and then he turns his attention to the Unified Global Champion, who hangs over his arm, lifelessly , head rolling from side to side with each step ‘Diamond’ Jack takes. Jack looks from one to the other, and then makes a decision, and as he looks at the battered body of his love he removes his arm from underneath Travis chest, and lets ‘The Most Influential Icon in Sports Entertainment this Millennia’ fall lifelessly to the floor, as he then picks up the pace in taking Gabby to Doctor Professor]
[‘BOOOOOOOOM’ The explosion engulfs the TV and the image of DJS carrying his love and his opponent to safety vanishes in a flash of flame and debris. The large exapnasive body of Tate Levene, moves with unnatural speed as he rises from the sofa, his face a picture of panic and concern as he turns to exit the locker room of the Unified Global Champion. But he is refrained, as an almost skeletal hand, covered in ageing skin grabs hold of his wrist, and with surprising force is able to keep the vast mass of Tate Levene in place. GIW’s resident Chubby Little Funster looks down, his eyes pleading to be released, at his grandmother, who merely shakes her head. Tate looks back towards the TV screen, and then back to his guardian in Japan, his eyes imploring her to release her iron like grip, but it inevitably fails.]
Old Lady Levene – ‘You can’t go out their Tate...’
Tate – ‘But....but...Travis needs me...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘And what can you do? Have you taken a paramedic course that I am unaware of?’
Tate – ‘But...but....but...Travis is hurt, I can’t sit in here, it’s just not right...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘You’d just get in the way Tate, have you seen the size of the infirmary? They’ll have been struggling for space anyway, I’m sure your presence wouldn’t be appreciated...’
Tate – ‘Someone needs to be there for him...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘He’ll have the people he needs Tate, they were prepared for this, your presence won’t be neccassary...’
Tate – ‘Well they c an tell me if I’m not needed then, can’t they!
[Tate wrenches his arm from his Grandmother’s grasp, and heads for the door with purpose, before Old Lady Levene stands up, and it becomes her turn to plead]
Old Lady Levene – ‘NO! You can’t Tate, you can’t witness the aftermath of that match, I’m not happy you saw the vile depiction of blood lust in the first place, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t protect you from the aftermath, you don’t need to see the results first hand...’
Tate – ‘I ‘m a grown man Gran, I can handle it!’
Old Lady Levene – ‘But you don’t need to. It’s not your job to see that, your his agent Tate, he doesn’t need you by him now, surely there is something else he needs you to do.’
Tate – ‘Well he did tell me to organise a victory party, apparently he was unhappy at the absence of one after Affirmative Action...but I doubt he is in any mood to party...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Do you want to take that risk? What happens if he walks out of Doctor Professor’s care and finds he once again has no party? You think Travis is going to accept that you were worried about him?’
Tate – ‘I guess not...and I know he’ll love the party if he comes, it’s gonna be the bestest ever. I got cakes, ice cream, donuts, sushi, a piñata and even a giant chocolate fountain! I bet your right, I bet all Travis really wants is a bowl of ice cream...’
[Old Lady Levene smiles a smile of relief as Tate starts to excitedly bumble around the room preparing for the party he has planned, seemingly forgetting the events he saw just moments ago on the television screen just metres away from him]
[Vision blurred, he is dragged along by his feet, a muscular arm gripping him tightly by the chest, white spots blur his vision, the pressure grows inside of his skull, every bones bruised, the bitter taste of blood engulfing his taste buds. He gags, blood rushes from his throat, and lands with a squelch below him, as he is dragged from the flashing lights, that do nothing for his vision, into the dulled light of another room.
The screaming voices have dulled, the movement ceases, and the sound of urgent chatter enters his constantly ringing ears, nothing makes sense, no voice is clear, just a constant drone entering his semi-conscious mind. His body trembles, as his rescuer bellows from the bottom of his lungs, stil hanging he tries to focus, white spots appearing and disappearing, momentarily he can see the floor, that floor, his brain tries to process something, but the silence that descends distracts him, no sound but that of the constant ringing from his ear drums. His skull still throbbing, the pain intensified as once again his rescuer screams with all his might, shaking him, and intensifying the ringing within his ers. Dragged, again, the floor, that floor, it blurs again as he moves slowly, until once again he is brought to a stop, hanging lifelessly, no will to move, no strength to try, he looks at the floor...as the arm is removed from his chest, and the floor, rushes towards his face, before the darkness descends]
[The infirmary is quiet, most of the injured have either left dosed up on painkillers, or have been moved on to better equipped surroundings, and some, inevitably, will make miraculous recoveries from forty foot falls and be standing, full strength by the middle of the week. Only one bed is occupied, and ‘The Headliner’ lies with his eyes closed and a drip fed into one arm. Doctor Professor stands above him looking over a chart, when the door behind him swings open and the quiet is disturbed by a distinctive voice.]
Boss P – ‘WASSUP DOCTA NIGGA! SHOULDN’T YO ASS BE GETTIN’ READY TO ROLL TO SYDNEY...’
Doctor Prof – ‘I still have one patient, he was brought to me late...’
Boss P – ‘DAMN BITCHES, GET DEMSELVES IN ‘DESE STUPID ASS MATCHES, DEN DEY CAN’T FIND DEMS WAY TO DA DOC, FUCKING NIGLETS!’
Doctor Prof – ‘I believed you scheduled his match, as in it was your idea...’
[Doctor Professor stands aside and he see’s Travis Roberts lying prone on the bed. If a penguin could smile, we’d probably witness it right about now]
Boss P – ‘DAMN, DA’ HIPPY NIGGA TOOK A BIGGER BEATING DAN IT LOOKED LIKE’
Doctor Prof – ‘And he’s got some Hobo to thank for being here, you really need to hire better backstage personnel, some Hobo dragged him in, saying he found him lying face first in the corridor...’
Boss P – ‘A HOBO NIGGA? DAMN ‘DAT DUDE IS ALL OVER DA PLACE AT DA MOMENT, I BEST SIGN HIS ASS UP, WE BE NEEDIN BODIES TO COMPETE ON DIS DAMN TOUR, BUT I’MMA NEED GET JAMAL TO FIX HIS HOBO ASS UP, DA HANDJOB FOR A DOLLAR LOOK ONLY WORKS ON DA NIGGERINA’S ON TV...DAMN MAN, WE NEED TO PIMP MA HOBO, YA HEAR?’
[Doctor Professor just stares blankly at Boss P before looking back down at his chart]
Doctor Prof – ‘Well the good news is I’ll have him back on his feet within an hour, he’s gonna be in a lot of pain, but between the combination of adrenaline and glucose I have him on, and the painkillers, he’ll be able to just about walk out of here...it’s a miracle neither he or Gabrielle have come away with anything other than flesh wounds, and a few broken teeth...’
Boss P – ‘SHIAT NIGGA DAT IS GOOD NEWS, AT LEAST ONE OF DIS SHOW’S MAIN EVENTERS WILL BE ON DA CARD IN SYDNEY, DAT DIAMOND GEEZA HELD ME BY MY WEBBED FEET TILL I PROMISED TO KEEP GABBY OFF DA CARD...SIOME NIGGA’S AIN’T EVER GRATEFUL FOR ‘DERE SHOTS...’
Doctor Prof – ‘I hadn’t quite finished, Mr Roberts has severe concussion, and possible swelling of the brain, he will be able to walk, but we’re gonna have to get an X-Ray if the inevitable headaches don’t subside in good time. Putting him in the ring before he’s rested for...at least....three weeks maybe more, would be reckless...’
Boss P –‘DA BOSS HEARS YA, DOCTOR NIGLET, BUT DAT DELUSIONAL, LANKY, HIPPY NIGGA, WANTED TO BE DA’ UNIFIED GLOBAL CHAMPION ‘DAT BAD, HE FLAPPED HIS JAW ‘BOUT ‘DA DEMANDS AND PRESSURES DAT CAME WID IT, HE CLAIMED HE WAS ‘DA ONLY BITCH IN ‘DIS COMPANY ‘DAT COULD HANDLE IT. NOW DAT NIGGA IS GONNA HAVE TO PROVE DAT, YA HEAR? WHEN ‘DA BITCH WAKES UP, TELL HIM ‘DA BOSS LOOKS FORWARD TO SEEING HIM IN SYDNEY...’
[With that Boss P turns and storms out of the Infirmary, as Doctor Professor looks down at Travis with a concern that only a man who has seen various surreal injuries and casualties in his time can conjure. As the scene fades out with him looking back to the chart]
[He left the infirmary; his head felt awful, like a thousand explosions were attempting to escape from his skull. His skin felt tight, a result of the dozens upon dozens of stitches that had been sown into his shredded body. Upon this his body had burns spread across it, countless areas of his torso and limbs strapped with bandages. But at least he could focus again, although the lights did seem rather bright, through squinted eyes he could focus upon the empty halls of the Tokyo Dome, everyone long since left for Tate’s party or more heinous deeds. He made it to his locker room and opened the door, it felt like an age since he had been preparing for his match, a match he had no real recollection of.
It was empty, no signs of recent life, but his jacket hung across the back of a chair, and upon that seat, the Unified Global Championship sat proudly. The reason for the pain and suffering sat in front of him, but he felt empty, he had no energy to celebrate at this time, the constant ringing in his ears had still yet to subside, his head allowing him to focus on nothing but when the damn painkillers would kick in, he grabs his jacket and slings it onto his back, wincing in pain as he stretches and moves the various injuries on his back and arms. He reaches into a lower pocket and removes a pair of Aviators, relieving his eyes of the bright glare of the Tokyo Domes backstage lighting, grabbing the Unified Global Championship, he makes his way from the room, his feet burning with every step.
The corridor was much more comforting in the bright lights, and he looks around, for the first time seeing various blood stains scattered across the floors and walls, evidence of the brutal battles that have taken place tonight, and in past years in this very venue. The Unified Global Championship weighs heavier than usual upon his shoulder, barely having the strength to stand upright and walk, he becomes eternally thankful that he has the foresight to employ people to carry his bags for him.
As he approaches the turn in the corridor towards the backstage exit and the venue of Tate’s party, he sees a behemoth of a man come stalking around the corner, long black hair, hands the size of hubcaps. He stops in his tracks, he recognises the man, a man from his past, but within the blink of an eye the figure has disappeared, a trick of his tired, swollen mind. These painkillers are taking too long for his liking, and he reaches into his top pocket for a pre rolled delicacy. He reaches into another pocket with his free hand for his lighter, forgetting the splint that straps two fingers together, and rather than grasping the metallic flame bringer, he ends up fumbling it and it drops to the floor, that floor.
As he looks down, it all comes back to him, 2004, the huge figure of GWAR, beating down on his, slamming him against the walls, he remembers tasting his own blood as his skull was driven into the concrete wall, he recalls the disbelief that his trusted ally would brutally ambush him, he feels a jolt of pain ruun up his spine as he remembers receiving a chokeslam of epic proportions onto that floor, and for the first time since that night five years ago, he visualises clearly, being hoisted up for a Tombstone Piledriver, and seeing the floor....that floor rush towards his face. He didn’t see anything else for two years, and until now had never revisited events.
He reaches for his lighter, he needs to clear his head, but as the floor, that floor approaches, ever closer, his body screams in pain from various places as he bends, as he reaches down to the floor, that floor...it all goes black.]
Diamond Jack : ‘WHERE THE HELL IS DOCTOR PROFESSOR!?!?’
[For the first time since coming through the curtain Diamond Jack finally feels some of the eyes rest upon him, and the two combatants he supports. Slowly, but surely, all the eyes in the direct vicinity turn towards the trio, and as they do an eerie hush descends upon the arena, as the various members of GIW’s backstage menagerie come face to face with the result of the main event. Their jaws drop, and the hush is broken by the sound of a few random people dry retching at the gruesome sight, and a few others start to mumble under their breath. ‘Diamond’ Jack stares in disbelief at those that surround him, those that just stare at him are met with a steely, determined look. After a few moments of being observed ‘Diamond’ Jack loses his patience and screams once more]
Diamond Jack – ‘I SAID, WHERE THE HELL IS DOCTOR PROFESSOR?’
[His echo bounces across the Tokyo Dome backstage area and once again a hush descends around him, as for the first time people actually look at the ‘Diamond in the Rough’ rather than the two bodies he carries. A few people point down the long hall that spans in front of them, and Jack narrows his eyes, and begins to walk, labouredly down the hall. Each step takes a great amount of effort from the ‘Diamond One’, and his progress is obviously slow. He looks at his beloved Gabrielle, blood pouring from her wounds, hair matted with her own bodily fluids, eyes completely shut, her hands clasping to his body, and then he turns his attention to the Unified Global Champion, who hangs over his arm, lifelessly , head rolling from side to side with each step ‘Diamond’ Jack takes. Jack looks from one to the other, and then makes a decision, and as he looks at the battered body of his love he removes his arm from underneath Travis chest, and lets ‘The Most Influential Icon in Sports Entertainment this Millennia’ fall lifelessly to the floor, as he then picks up the pace in taking Gabby to Doctor Professor]
[‘BOOOOOOOOM’ The explosion engulfs the TV and the image of DJS carrying his love and his opponent to safety vanishes in a flash of flame and debris. The large exapnasive body of Tate Levene, moves with unnatural speed as he rises from the sofa, his face a picture of panic and concern as he turns to exit the locker room of the Unified Global Champion. But he is refrained, as an almost skeletal hand, covered in ageing skin grabs hold of his wrist, and with surprising force is able to keep the vast mass of Tate Levene in place. GIW’s resident Chubby Little Funster looks down, his eyes pleading to be released, at his grandmother, who merely shakes her head. Tate looks back towards the TV screen, and then back to his guardian in Japan, his eyes imploring her to release her iron like grip, but it inevitably fails.]
Old Lady Levene – ‘You can’t go out their Tate...’
Tate – ‘But....but...Travis needs me...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘And what can you do? Have you taken a paramedic course that I am unaware of?’
Tate – ‘But...but....but...Travis is hurt, I can’t sit in here, it’s just not right...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘You’d just get in the way Tate, have you seen the size of the infirmary? They’ll have been struggling for space anyway, I’m sure your presence wouldn’t be appreciated...’
Tate – ‘Someone needs to be there for him...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘He’ll have the people he needs Tate, they were prepared for this, your presence won’t be neccassary...’
Tate – ‘Well they c an tell me if I’m not needed then, can’t they!
[Tate wrenches his arm from his Grandmother’s grasp, and heads for the door with purpose, before Old Lady Levene stands up, and it becomes her turn to plead]
Old Lady Levene – ‘NO! You can’t Tate, you can’t witness the aftermath of that match, I’m not happy you saw the vile depiction of blood lust in the first place, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t protect you from the aftermath, you don’t need to see the results first hand...’
Tate – ‘I ‘m a grown man Gran, I can handle it!’
Old Lady Levene – ‘But you don’t need to. It’s not your job to see that, your his agent Tate, he doesn’t need you by him now, surely there is something else he needs you to do.’
Tate – ‘Well he did tell me to organise a victory party, apparently he was unhappy at the absence of one after Affirmative Action...but I doubt he is in any mood to party...’
Old Lady Levene – ‘Do you want to take that risk? What happens if he walks out of Doctor Professor’s care and finds he once again has no party? You think Travis is going to accept that you were worried about him?’
Tate – ‘I guess not...and I know he’ll love the party if he comes, it’s gonna be the bestest ever. I got cakes, ice cream, donuts, sushi, a piñata and even a giant chocolate fountain! I bet your right, I bet all Travis really wants is a bowl of ice cream...’
[Old Lady Levene smiles a smile of relief as Tate starts to excitedly bumble around the room preparing for the party he has planned, seemingly forgetting the events he saw just moments ago on the television screen just metres away from him]
[Vision blurred, he is dragged along by his feet, a muscular arm gripping him tightly by the chest, white spots blur his vision, the pressure grows inside of his skull, every bones bruised, the bitter taste of blood engulfing his taste buds. He gags, blood rushes from his throat, and lands with a squelch below him, as he is dragged from the flashing lights, that do nothing for his vision, into the dulled light of another room.
The screaming voices have dulled, the movement ceases, and the sound of urgent chatter enters his constantly ringing ears, nothing makes sense, no voice is clear, just a constant drone entering his semi-conscious mind. His body trembles, as his rescuer bellows from the bottom of his lungs, stil hanging he tries to focus, white spots appearing and disappearing, momentarily he can see the floor, that floor, his brain tries to process something, but the silence that descends distracts him, no sound but that of the constant ringing from his ear drums. His skull still throbbing, the pain intensified as once again his rescuer screams with all his might, shaking him, and intensifying the ringing within his ers. Dragged, again, the floor, that floor, it blurs again as he moves slowly, until once again he is brought to a stop, hanging lifelessly, no will to move, no strength to try, he looks at the floor...as the arm is removed from his chest, and the floor, rushes towards his face, before the darkness descends]
[The infirmary is quiet, most of the injured have either left dosed up on painkillers, or have been moved on to better equipped surroundings, and some, inevitably, will make miraculous recoveries from forty foot falls and be standing, full strength by the middle of the week. Only one bed is occupied, and ‘The Headliner’ lies with his eyes closed and a drip fed into one arm. Doctor Professor stands above him looking over a chart, when the door behind him swings open and the quiet is disturbed by a distinctive voice.]
Boss P – ‘WASSUP DOCTA NIGGA! SHOULDN’T YO ASS BE GETTIN’ READY TO ROLL TO SYDNEY...’
Doctor Prof – ‘I still have one patient, he was brought to me late...’
Boss P – ‘DAMN BITCHES, GET DEMSELVES IN ‘DESE STUPID ASS MATCHES, DEN DEY CAN’T FIND DEMS WAY TO DA DOC, FUCKING NIGLETS!’
Doctor Prof – ‘I believed you scheduled his match, as in it was your idea...’
[Doctor Professor stands aside and he see’s Travis Roberts lying prone on the bed. If a penguin could smile, we’d probably witness it right about now]
Boss P – ‘DAMN, DA’ HIPPY NIGGA TOOK A BIGGER BEATING DAN IT LOOKED LIKE’
Doctor Prof – ‘And he’s got some Hobo to thank for being here, you really need to hire better backstage personnel, some Hobo dragged him in, saying he found him lying face first in the corridor...’
Boss P – ‘A HOBO NIGGA? DAMN ‘DAT DUDE IS ALL OVER DA PLACE AT DA MOMENT, I BEST SIGN HIS ASS UP, WE BE NEEDIN BODIES TO COMPETE ON DIS DAMN TOUR, BUT I’MMA NEED GET JAMAL TO FIX HIS HOBO ASS UP, DA HANDJOB FOR A DOLLAR LOOK ONLY WORKS ON DA NIGGERINA’S ON TV...DAMN MAN, WE NEED TO PIMP MA HOBO, YA HEAR?’
[Doctor Professor just stares blankly at Boss P before looking back down at his chart]
Doctor Prof – ‘Well the good news is I’ll have him back on his feet within an hour, he’s gonna be in a lot of pain, but between the combination of adrenaline and glucose I have him on, and the painkillers, he’ll be able to just about walk out of here...it’s a miracle neither he or Gabrielle have come away with anything other than flesh wounds, and a few broken teeth...’
Boss P – ‘SHIAT NIGGA DAT IS GOOD NEWS, AT LEAST ONE OF DIS SHOW’S MAIN EVENTERS WILL BE ON DA CARD IN SYDNEY, DAT DIAMOND GEEZA HELD ME BY MY WEBBED FEET TILL I PROMISED TO KEEP GABBY OFF DA CARD...SIOME NIGGA’S AIN’T EVER GRATEFUL FOR ‘DERE SHOTS...’
Doctor Prof – ‘I hadn’t quite finished, Mr Roberts has severe concussion, and possible swelling of the brain, he will be able to walk, but we’re gonna have to get an X-Ray if the inevitable headaches don’t subside in good time. Putting him in the ring before he’s rested for...at least....three weeks maybe more, would be reckless...’
Boss P –‘DA BOSS HEARS YA, DOCTOR NIGLET, BUT DAT DELUSIONAL, LANKY, HIPPY NIGGA, WANTED TO BE DA’ UNIFIED GLOBAL CHAMPION ‘DAT BAD, HE FLAPPED HIS JAW ‘BOUT ‘DA DEMANDS AND PRESSURES DAT CAME WID IT, HE CLAIMED HE WAS ‘DA ONLY BITCH IN ‘DIS COMPANY ‘DAT COULD HANDLE IT. NOW DAT NIGGA IS GONNA HAVE TO PROVE DAT, YA HEAR? WHEN ‘DA BITCH WAKES UP, TELL HIM ‘DA BOSS LOOKS FORWARD TO SEEING HIM IN SYDNEY...’
[With that Boss P turns and storms out of the Infirmary, as Doctor Professor looks down at Travis with a concern that only a man who has seen various surreal injuries and casualties in his time can conjure. As the scene fades out with him looking back to the chart]
[He left the infirmary; his head felt awful, like a thousand explosions were attempting to escape from his skull. His skin felt tight, a result of the dozens upon dozens of stitches that had been sown into his shredded body. Upon this his body had burns spread across it, countless areas of his torso and limbs strapped with bandages. But at least he could focus again, although the lights did seem rather bright, through squinted eyes he could focus upon the empty halls of the Tokyo Dome, everyone long since left for Tate’s party or more heinous deeds. He made it to his locker room and opened the door, it felt like an age since he had been preparing for his match, a match he had no real recollection of.
It was empty, no signs of recent life, but his jacket hung across the back of a chair, and upon that seat, the Unified Global Championship sat proudly. The reason for the pain and suffering sat in front of him, but he felt empty, he had no energy to celebrate at this time, the constant ringing in his ears had still yet to subside, his head allowing him to focus on nothing but when the damn painkillers would kick in, he grabs his jacket and slings it onto his back, wincing in pain as he stretches and moves the various injuries on his back and arms. He reaches into a lower pocket and removes a pair of Aviators, relieving his eyes of the bright glare of the Tokyo Domes backstage lighting, grabbing the Unified Global Championship, he makes his way from the room, his feet burning with every step.
The corridor was much more comforting in the bright lights, and he looks around, for the first time seeing various blood stains scattered across the floors and walls, evidence of the brutal battles that have taken place tonight, and in past years in this very venue. The Unified Global Championship weighs heavier than usual upon his shoulder, barely having the strength to stand upright and walk, he becomes eternally thankful that he has the foresight to employ people to carry his bags for him.
As he approaches the turn in the corridor towards the backstage exit and the venue of Tate’s party, he sees a behemoth of a man come stalking around the corner, long black hair, hands the size of hubcaps. He stops in his tracks, he recognises the man, a man from his past, but within the blink of an eye the figure has disappeared, a trick of his tired, swollen mind. These painkillers are taking too long for his liking, and he reaches into his top pocket for a pre rolled delicacy. He reaches into another pocket with his free hand for his lighter, forgetting the splint that straps two fingers together, and rather than grasping the metallic flame bringer, he ends up fumbling it and it drops to the floor, that floor.
As he looks down, it all comes back to him, 2004, the huge figure of GWAR, beating down on his, slamming him against the walls, he remembers tasting his own blood as his skull was driven into the concrete wall, he recalls the disbelief that his trusted ally would brutally ambush him, he feels a jolt of pain ruun up his spine as he remembers receiving a chokeslam of epic proportions onto that floor, and for the first time since that night five years ago, he visualises clearly, being hoisted up for a Tombstone Piledriver, and seeing the floor....that floor rush towards his face. He didn’t see anything else for two years, and until now had never revisited events.
He reaches for his lighter, he needs to clear his head, but as the floor, that floor approaches, ever closer, his body screams in pain from various places as he bends, as he reaches down to the floor, that floor...it all goes black.]
