Post by Zombie Jesus on Oct 2, 2009 0:26:02 GMT -5
The chill of the fall air rushed over him, dusk was beginning to settle and the sun was setting behind the orange and red canvas of trees that covered both sides of the road. Leaning against a dried hollowed wooden post that had been bleached and aged in the countless summers it had seen, he closed his eyes and his nostrils flared slightly as he took in the smell of the air surrounding him. His face was masked behind long strands of black hair that engulfed the shape of a bearded square jaw. Salem let his mind trail off somewhere in the hills of an unknown highway, somewhere lost in the back roads of California just outside the town of South Lake Tahoe, he found if at least for the moment a form of peace. But not for long, never for long anymore, before his mind begins to trail toward darker times.
It was nearly a couple of hours since he last saw her. A few hours since he left the city to find sanctuary in the world and on the open roads. His knuckles popped as flashes of her snapped into his head, his hands gripping tight over the fence. His black hoodie had been rolled back at the sleeves, his inked out arms showing to the elbows. A melancholy hush surrounded him but the silence was soon broken as was his train of thought with the passing of a large eighteen wheeler blowing by. It stirred away the wind and broke his concentration, maybe for the best, his mind still skipping over the same thoughts over and over like a broken record. For someone who has seen everything in life, or so he thought that there was to see, finding Jezebel that night in those conditions affected him in ways nothing before ever has. It had been a couple of weeks now but the same thoughts kept haunting his mind.
Salem looked back to his bike, a black custom West Coast Chopper C.F.L that sat at the side of the road. It wasn’t far from here, a few times before heading to show taping in California that he and Jez would stop back on some unknown road and shoot the shit for a few hours or kill time and boredom, taking a roll in the grass. Thoughts now that were hard to process while she laid up in a hospital bed, still half cocked out of her fucking mind It wasn’t often he left her side save the few trips to the can to take a piss or letting Jet have his time. Jet… he never liked the high and mighty prick really before. Fact of the matter was, the last time they had seen one another was Thanksgiving at Jezebel’s parents house. He walked around the corner into the middle of an argument between Jez and her brother about the fundamental differences between MMA and Pro Wrestling. Salem got tossed around in the argument too somehow; something about her banging the tattooed long haired sleaze ball. Somehow in all this they put their differences aside long enough to get Jez back, not that he saw them being best friends any time soon but it helped to almost suppress the constant want to beat the crap out of Jet… almost.
The sun was setting behind the hills in the distance, and Salem needed to get himself back to the hospital. He took one last look at the countryside before shaking his head. How fucked up could life get? Jez was fighting for her mind in a hospital bed while that slimy mother fucker Mickey Dragon was out there somewhere running for his life. And he had better keep running, because when he stopped, where he stopped Salem would find him and it would be the end of Dragon’s miserable fucking life, and on top of it all his estranged ex-wife decided to show up on GIW‘s door steps and make an unholy alliance with a man he once called his brother.
Salem’s faded blue jean clad legs straddled the chopper, the chain of his wallet hanging from behind him, and with a turn of the key, the loud roar of an engine came to life exploding away the silence of a serene countryside. Salem made sure to buckle the sheath of his Bowie knife on his side and pulled off onto the road, a cloud of dust crawling from the wide back tire of the motorcycle. As he pulled off onto the road a dry rotted post stood baring the fresh scared cuts into the wood of “J.S“. Salem rocketed down the interstate over the blacktop highway passing a sign overhead that read “South Lake Tahoe 13 miles“…
The automatic doors to the hospital slide open as Salem walks through. His long black hair is now tied back into a ponytail and tucked somewhat behind a black knit stocking cap that he has pulled down just above his eyebrows. The receptionist at the desk watches, looking up from her computer screen as he enters, taking a second to tap her co-worker on her shoulder as they both watch him slowly pass the desk. Walking down the long white hallway over the week, he’s grown to call this place home. The people who work and staff this place have come to know his face and accept his presence. Since Jezebel came in that night, they have come to see quite the motley crew of faces of all shapes and statures from a blonde-haired business suit dressed aristocrat, a midget dressed as a leprechaun, a German gibberish dribbling giant, and a cigar inhaling anarchist who is usually restrained and pulled back outside by security for walking in with alcohol and for refusing to put out his smoke. One of the receptionists was even so bold as to tell the other one once it was “no wonder that the poor girl lost her mind with a family like this.” It’s no shock they favored Jet of all the cast. But it made no difference to Salem if they even lived or breathed, much less what they fucking thought of him or his motley cohorts. Alive or dead, to him they were simply a necessity for the time being, so let them gossip.
One of the few friends he had made while here was an older white haired black guy by the name of Willy. An elderly silver haired soft spoken guy who seemed like he had the best head on his shoulders out of the whole fucking lot in the place, and of all things he was waxing floors for a living. Salem had spent countless hours talking to the guy over the past few weeks. The old man felt it important to check on the “Young cat and his chick” as he called Salem and Jez. Willy helped Salem pass the hours by filling his ears about years spent on the road trying to get discovered as a blues musician. He mostly rambled on about nothing but his views in life and how the world had changed, spitting countless years of knowledge learned the hard way at Salem in hopes that would at least keep his mind off of things for the time being. As the man clad in black walked down the bleach white hallway he stood out like a sore thumb, his face planted to the ground in thought. Salem walked a path that he had beaten down nonstop until water could probably flow in the tread he had kicked up in the floor walking the route to her room and back. As he neared the set of elevators, a cup of coffee appeared in his face. Salem looked up to see a familiar hand as Willy greeted him with the steaming cup of joe.
“No thanks, old timer… not really in the mood for coffee.”
Willy cracked a smile and smirked a bit.
“You want the coffee…”
“No… I don’t, Willy. I’ll get a cup later… I don’t want the coffee.”
Salem was trying his damnedest at this point, while waiting for the elevator, to be nice about it. After all, Willy was just trying to help; Salem would have spared no empathy in telling most others to fuck themselves.
“You want this coffee…”
Willy put the cup firmly in Salem’s hand and closed his grip around it.
“No, Willy. What I need, to be honest with you, is a fucken drink…”
“Then you want this coffee, son.”
As the doors to the elevator opened up, sliding from the sides to expose an empty chamber, Willy reached into the pocket of his one piece Dickies brand work overalls and pulled out the shimmering lid of a flask hidden in his dark hands. A smile cracked his aged lips as shook his head and stepped forward into the elevator leading a yellow bucket in, guiding it with the handle of a mop, leaving Salem looking down at the cup of coffee.
“I want this cup of coffee…”
Salem stepped onto the elevator as the doors closed behind him.
Willy took the liberty of pressing the button for the proper floor since they had taken this trip together several times now. Willy broke the silence as Salem smelled the cup of black in front of him.
“Before you even ask she’s fine cat daddy, I just checked on her a while ago. You alright though young buck… look like you have more shit then usual on your mind.”
Salem looks over for a second and nods.
“Yeah… some shit on my mind is all. I’ll sort it all out…. You know this smells like feet wrapped in burnt bacon what the fuck is in this? ”
“Good stuff son the good stuff, lil something they used to call Smooth Willy’s Wonder Juice.”
Smelling the cup once again he pauses for a second and looks to the elderly janitor.
“That’s not code for you stirred it with your dick is it?”
Salem arched a brow as Willy burst into laughter.
“No son, that’d make it just too damn sweet. That’s what I like about you, ya got a sense of humor.”
“Yeah I’m a million fucken laughs these days.”
Salem drinks from the cup of coffee, sipping gingerly at it first before misting the doors and walls of the elevator with the contents of the cup that he sipped into his mouth.
“Gah! What in the fuck is that…!?!?! It tastes like Mad Dog 20/20 and ass!”
Willy finds himself leaning against the wall crippled over in laughter.
“No no… you just can’t handle a real mans drink is all… I don’t know about how ass tastes and I’m tempted not to ask you how you know. And what’s wrong Mad Dog 20/20 son? “
“It… much like that… tastes of fresh squeezed ass…Klaus ought to love that shit.”
The doors to the elevator opened, and the massive framed man walked forth onto the hospital floor. Before he stepped out he felt the tug of a hand on the back of his shirt. Salem turned around as Willy was pushing his cart off of the elevator, Salem held the doors for him.
“Son I saw last week, the girl who showed up…”
“My ex old lady… it’s not a big fucken deal. She comes and goes just have to keep her out of Jez’s hair till she’s back on her feet. She’s kind of the vindictive bitch.”
Wheeling his cart off behind Salem, Willy nods and goes to speak again but is interrupted.
“And before you mention his name…”
Salem turns his attention back down the hall.
“If you see Raenius anywhere near you call me and get that degenerate bastard out of here. He made his bed and now he’ll lay in it.
Willy shakes his head.
“I thought you and that cat were close, best friends even…”
Salem stops in his tracks and turns around back to Willy, the cup of “coffee” still in his hand.
“No… I don’t know what to think anymore. But he let this happen, he let what happen to Jez go this far, and he decided to harbor that bastard Dragon with all this shit? And then bringing my ex back into the scene while I’m down? Nah fuck that… My best friend’s running a series of clubs on the east coast, sitten fat and happy while his muscles turn to shit and the blondes help him forget that he used to work for a living. My best friends, my brothers are the ones living their lives out there after walking away from the sport. I’m ready to accept there is no family in this damn sport. That shallow fucken husk who used to be seen with me is just someone in the past who’s kid is my goddaughter right now. He made light of being a gentleman in all of this, but there are no gentlemen in war… those who want to win will drag themselves through shit and decay for a victory some are just more honest than others about it…”
Willy stays by Salem’s side as they walk past the monitors and the doors of the ward. The steam drifts from the mouth of the cup filled with the black abyss of roasted coffee beans and shit mouth sour mesh.
“Raenius is drawing his lines, and those around him are being left in a fucken heap left and right; he’s got no one now. Two weeks ago they didn’t know if Dirge was ever gonna walk again; we saw what happened when Chassie tried to get back into a ring after the beating I gave her and now she’s out until further notice… and Dragon’s too fucken afraid to slither out of the shadows for the few seconds it would take me to get my hands on him. Raenius is alone when he used to have a brotherhood to watch his back.”
As they come closer the hospital room of one Miss Saint; a Hindenburg sized German stands up and greets them as they near. The massive tank of man known as Klaus’s sidekick and all around nice guy has been ordered by the group to stand vigilant post over the entrance to the room to tend to any and all needs that may come up.
“Vello Guntleming…”
Salem greets the German giant with a nod and stops just before him.
“Hey big guy how’s she holden up?”
The man known to Salem as simply put Zee or Zim look into the room at Jezebel and back to Salem.
“Steady, she is steady, but still with the kookoo and the screaming… she fights but she is going to come through… she was caught trying to smoke in the bathroom… she says the cigarette is a figment of her imagination but she said “fuck it it was the best imaginary smoke ever.””
“Heh…”
Salem laughs a bit.
“That’s my girl …thanks again Zim. Here, got you a cup of coffee on the way up”
Salem hands the blonde headed behemoth the still steaming hot cup of apparent ass flavored morning brew. Zimmermann takes a small waft as does most people when Salem hands someone something and looks as if he is about to vomit and his face turns a sickly green shade. Yet he never pulls away and embraces a sip of the coffee, his instant reaction turning his face three new shades of colors not yet identified to the color spectrum as his left eye springs into twitches before relaxing into something only describable as wide eyed and tear-filled.
“Just like my Mudder used to make… tank you Zalem.”
Salem’s mouth drops open and he looks to Willy.
“Herr Jet has gone to get himself something to eat so he should be back very shortly. “
He sips of the freshly brewed ass juices again. Salem’s eyes still in awe
“Eh tough shit I’m here now… he needs to worry about his match with Bruce Lee this week anyhow. I don’t know what it is exactly that Straight Edge people do to get ready; but he needs to get the fuck on it.”
Willy cuts in for a moment patting Zimmerman on the chest and steps between him and Salem to gain all of Salem’s attention.
“That’s what I like to see son, a strapping young lad who can handle his coffee; and what about you cat? You’ve got another match this week with that fella from Hollywood. “
“Bah”
Salem replies to the old man.
“Old Timer… I’m well aware of what’s going on this week. Last week I had a lot of shit on my mind not to mention blind sided by my best friend, and on top of that my ex wife slithered from what ever rock she’s been hiding under for the past 4 years. See I hope Mr. Hollywood likes scary movies… cause his next project is going to be a gory one. I fucked up last week and got railed from the side… something I’ll take care of soon enough. But Moss and I have unfinished business.”
The elderly black male figure tries to hold up his hands and calm Salem down.
“Alright, alright new blood, but I’m just sayin don’t look past…”
“I’m well aware of what you’re saying Willy, I am… I already heard what he had to say earlier. I took a glance at one of his online exclusives looking over Invader Zim’s here shoulder while he fell asleep watching porn on Sherry’s laptop.”
Zimmerman explodes into a fury of jumping around.
“Nein, Nein…. I vas doing no such ting!!!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night big guy… but Slutober-fest sounds like something right up your lederhosen.”
Zimmerman still bouncing around denying anything of the sort.
“Anyhow I took the time to watch some of his stuff, he’s right you know… I was born to hurt and cause pain. But I’m bred to win. And this week Mister Hollywood has got a Grindhouse with his name on it, a little something left over from last week that I wasn’t able to present to him. Moss thinks tracking through some of the bayous around my home are enough to prepare him for meeting me in the ring? Just wait… cause this Sentinel I’m going to drag Hollywood to Hell.”
Zimmerman still sputtering about, some of it translated and some in his native German tongue.
“Z- Man… Do that thing I like.”
Salem asks as his hand reaches for the handle to the door leading into Jezebel’s room.
“Nein!”
Zimmer barks at him in retort.
“Come on!”
“Nein!”
The two banter back and forth for some time before Willy throws his hands up and walks off.
“Ah fuck it, I doubt you even know what I’m talking about.”
Salem gestures as he pretends to lose interest.
“Vas ov course I do.”
“Eh stop fucken with me you’ve got shit for an idea of what I’m talking about.”
“Vwhat the fuck of you talking about you make fun of me all the time by getting new ways to make me stomp my foot like so…”
Zimmerman stomps his boot against the floor.
“Vand get me to say as they do in das reruns with dis Coronal Clink ven he shouts …Hoooogannn!!!”
Salem has a look cover his face dazed and bit enriched as if just got a hit of some much needed drug fix he had been fiending for some time.
“Very tricky Zalem… very, tricky indeed.”
Salem chuckles to himself turning the handle to the door, still laughing at his own actions.
“Ah Good times man, good times…”
As he begins to enter the room Willy makes his way back in a rush.
“Salem…”
“Oh Jesus… what now I’ve got to see my chick dude… out of her mind or not she’s the reason I’m here not to bullshit with you and the kraut here about my match this week. “
Salem sighed at first having snapped at both of them, but the fix he so richly needed was seeing the woman in the next room that he longed to be by her side every waking moment.
“Your friend…your brother… it’s… look cat they brought in Raenius last night a car accident he’s leaving as we speak, signing his papers.”
“Fuck me!!!”
Salem shouts, the nurses in the hall left looking at him in shock.
“So he’s coherent and shit? They’re releasing him? Good… then he’s alright.”
Willy looks in shock at Zimmerman then back toward Salem, who starts walking back down the hall.
“Why do you care?”
Willy calls the question out to Salem as he watches Salem snatch a bag and drip off an IV pole and drags it down the hall disconnecting it from the wheels and base to leave just the steel rod in his hands.
“Cause I’ve got questions that need to be answered…and it would be uncivilized of me to just beat the hell out of him if he wasn’t ”
The Scene Fades To Black
It was nearly a couple of hours since he last saw her. A few hours since he left the city to find sanctuary in the world and on the open roads. His knuckles popped as flashes of her snapped into his head, his hands gripping tight over the fence. His black hoodie had been rolled back at the sleeves, his inked out arms showing to the elbows. A melancholy hush surrounded him but the silence was soon broken as was his train of thought with the passing of a large eighteen wheeler blowing by. It stirred away the wind and broke his concentration, maybe for the best, his mind still skipping over the same thoughts over and over like a broken record. For someone who has seen everything in life, or so he thought that there was to see, finding Jezebel that night in those conditions affected him in ways nothing before ever has. It had been a couple of weeks now but the same thoughts kept haunting his mind.
Salem looked back to his bike, a black custom West Coast Chopper C.F.L that sat at the side of the road. It wasn’t far from here, a few times before heading to show taping in California that he and Jez would stop back on some unknown road and shoot the shit for a few hours or kill time and boredom, taking a roll in the grass. Thoughts now that were hard to process while she laid up in a hospital bed, still half cocked out of her fucking mind It wasn’t often he left her side save the few trips to the can to take a piss or letting Jet have his time. Jet… he never liked the high and mighty prick really before. Fact of the matter was, the last time they had seen one another was Thanksgiving at Jezebel’s parents house. He walked around the corner into the middle of an argument between Jez and her brother about the fundamental differences between MMA and Pro Wrestling. Salem got tossed around in the argument too somehow; something about her banging the tattooed long haired sleaze ball. Somehow in all this they put their differences aside long enough to get Jez back, not that he saw them being best friends any time soon but it helped to almost suppress the constant want to beat the crap out of Jet… almost.
The sun was setting behind the hills in the distance, and Salem needed to get himself back to the hospital. He took one last look at the countryside before shaking his head. How fucked up could life get? Jez was fighting for her mind in a hospital bed while that slimy mother fucker Mickey Dragon was out there somewhere running for his life. And he had better keep running, because when he stopped, where he stopped Salem would find him and it would be the end of Dragon’s miserable fucking life, and on top of it all his estranged ex-wife decided to show up on GIW‘s door steps and make an unholy alliance with a man he once called his brother.
Salem’s faded blue jean clad legs straddled the chopper, the chain of his wallet hanging from behind him, and with a turn of the key, the loud roar of an engine came to life exploding away the silence of a serene countryside. Salem made sure to buckle the sheath of his Bowie knife on his side and pulled off onto the road, a cloud of dust crawling from the wide back tire of the motorcycle. As he pulled off onto the road a dry rotted post stood baring the fresh scared cuts into the wood of “J.S“. Salem rocketed down the interstate over the blacktop highway passing a sign overhead that read “South Lake Tahoe 13 miles“…
The automatic doors to the hospital slide open as Salem walks through. His long black hair is now tied back into a ponytail and tucked somewhat behind a black knit stocking cap that he has pulled down just above his eyebrows. The receptionist at the desk watches, looking up from her computer screen as he enters, taking a second to tap her co-worker on her shoulder as they both watch him slowly pass the desk. Walking down the long white hallway over the week, he’s grown to call this place home. The people who work and staff this place have come to know his face and accept his presence. Since Jezebel came in that night, they have come to see quite the motley crew of faces of all shapes and statures from a blonde-haired business suit dressed aristocrat, a midget dressed as a leprechaun, a German gibberish dribbling giant, and a cigar inhaling anarchist who is usually restrained and pulled back outside by security for walking in with alcohol and for refusing to put out his smoke. One of the receptionists was even so bold as to tell the other one once it was “no wonder that the poor girl lost her mind with a family like this.” It’s no shock they favored Jet of all the cast. But it made no difference to Salem if they even lived or breathed, much less what they fucking thought of him or his motley cohorts. Alive or dead, to him they were simply a necessity for the time being, so let them gossip.
One of the few friends he had made while here was an older white haired black guy by the name of Willy. An elderly silver haired soft spoken guy who seemed like he had the best head on his shoulders out of the whole fucking lot in the place, and of all things he was waxing floors for a living. Salem had spent countless hours talking to the guy over the past few weeks. The old man felt it important to check on the “Young cat and his chick” as he called Salem and Jez. Willy helped Salem pass the hours by filling his ears about years spent on the road trying to get discovered as a blues musician. He mostly rambled on about nothing but his views in life and how the world had changed, spitting countless years of knowledge learned the hard way at Salem in hopes that would at least keep his mind off of things for the time being. As the man clad in black walked down the bleach white hallway he stood out like a sore thumb, his face planted to the ground in thought. Salem walked a path that he had beaten down nonstop until water could probably flow in the tread he had kicked up in the floor walking the route to her room and back. As he neared the set of elevators, a cup of coffee appeared in his face. Salem looked up to see a familiar hand as Willy greeted him with the steaming cup of joe.
“No thanks, old timer… not really in the mood for coffee.”
Willy cracked a smile and smirked a bit.
“You want the coffee…”
“No… I don’t, Willy. I’ll get a cup later… I don’t want the coffee.”
Salem was trying his damnedest at this point, while waiting for the elevator, to be nice about it. After all, Willy was just trying to help; Salem would have spared no empathy in telling most others to fuck themselves.
“You want this coffee…”
Willy put the cup firmly in Salem’s hand and closed his grip around it.
“No, Willy. What I need, to be honest with you, is a fucken drink…”
“Then you want this coffee, son.”
As the doors to the elevator opened up, sliding from the sides to expose an empty chamber, Willy reached into the pocket of his one piece Dickies brand work overalls and pulled out the shimmering lid of a flask hidden in his dark hands. A smile cracked his aged lips as shook his head and stepped forward into the elevator leading a yellow bucket in, guiding it with the handle of a mop, leaving Salem looking down at the cup of coffee.
“I want this cup of coffee…”
Salem stepped onto the elevator as the doors closed behind him.
Willy took the liberty of pressing the button for the proper floor since they had taken this trip together several times now. Willy broke the silence as Salem smelled the cup of black in front of him.
“Before you even ask she’s fine cat daddy, I just checked on her a while ago. You alright though young buck… look like you have more shit then usual on your mind.”
Salem looks over for a second and nods.
“Yeah… some shit on my mind is all. I’ll sort it all out…. You know this smells like feet wrapped in burnt bacon what the fuck is in this? ”
“Good stuff son the good stuff, lil something they used to call Smooth Willy’s Wonder Juice.”
Smelling the cup once again he pauses for a second and looks to the elderly janitor.
“That’s not code for you stirred it with your dick is it?”
Salem arched a brow as Willy burst into laughter.
“No son, that’d make it just too damn sweet. That’s what I like about you, ya got a sense of humor.”
“Yeah I’m a million fucken laughs these days.”
Salem drinks from the cup of coffee, sipping gingerly at it first before misting the doors and walls of the elevator with the contents of the cup that he sipped into his mouth.
“Gah! What in the fuck is that…!?!?! It tastes like Mad Dog 20/20 and ass!”
Willy finds himself leaning against the wall crippled over in laughter.
“No no… you just can’t handle a real mans drink is all… I don’t know about how ass tastes and I’m tempted not to ask you how you know. And what’s wrong Mad Dog 20/20 son? “
“It… much like that… tastes of fresh squeezed ass…Klaus ought to love that shit.”
The doors to the elevator opened, and the massive framed man walked forth onto the hospital floor. Before he stepped out he felt the tug of a hand on the back of his shirt. Salem turned around as Willy was pushing his cart off of the elevator, Salem held the doors for him.
“Son I saw last week, the girl who showed up…”
“My ex old lady… it’s not a big fucken deal. She comes and goes just have to keep her out of Jez’s hair till she’s back on her feet. She’s kind of the vindictive bitch.”
Wheeling his cart off behind Salem, Willy nods and goes to speak again but is interrupted.
“And before you mention his name…”
Salem turns his attention back down the hall.
“If you see Raenius anywhere near you call me and get that degenerate bastard out of here. He made his bed and now he’ll lay in it.
Willy shakes his head.
“I thought you and that cat were close, best friends even…”
Salem stops in his tracks and turns around back to Willy, the cup of “coffee” still in his hand.
“No… I don’t know what to think anymore. But he let this happen, he let what happen to Jez go this far, and he decided to harbor that bastard Dragon with all this shit? And then bringing my ex back into the scene while I’m down? Nah fuck that… My best friend’s running a series of clubs on the east coast, sitten fat and happy while his muscles turn to shit and the blondes help him forget that he used to work for a living. My best friends, my brothers are the ones living their lives out there after walking away from the sport. I’m ready to accept there is no family in this damn sport. That shallow fucken husk who used to be seen with me is just someone in the past who’s kid is my goddaughter right now. He made light of being a gentleman in all of this, but there are no gentlemen in war… those who want to win will drag themselves through shit and decay for a victory some are just more honest than others about it…”
Willy stays by Salem’s side as they walk past the monitors and the doors of the ward. The steam drifts from the mouth of the cup filled with the black abyss of roasted coffee beans and shit mouth sour mesh.
“Raenius is drawing his lines, and those around him are being left in a fucken heap left and right; he’s got no one now. Two weeks ago they didn’t know if Dirge was ever gonna walk again; we saw what happened when Chassie tried to get back into a ring after the beating I gave her and now she’s out until further notice… and Dragon’s too fucken afraid to slither out of the shadows for the few seconds it would take me to get my hands on him. Raenius is alone when he used to have a brotherhood to watch his back.”
As they come closer the hospital room of one Miss Saint; a Hindenburg sized German stands up and greets them as they near. The massive tank of man known as Klaus’s sidekick and all around nice guy has been ordered by the group to stand vigilant post over the entrance to the room to tend to any and all needs that may come up.
“Vello Guntleming…”
Salem greets the German giant with a nod and stops just before him.
“Hey big guy how’s she holden up?”
The man known to Salem as simply put Zee or Zim look into the room at Jezebel and back to Salem.
“Steady, she is steady, but still with the kookoo and the screaming… she fights but she is going to come through… she was caught trying to smoke in the bathroom… she says the cigarette is a figment of her imagination but she said “fuck it it was the best imaginary smoke ever.””
“Heh…”
Salem laughs a bit.
“That’s my girl …thanks again Zim. Here, got you a cup of coffee on the way up”
Salem hands the blonde headed behemoth the still steaming hot cup of apparent ass flavored morning brew. Zimmermann takes a small waft as does most people when Salem hands someone something and looks as if he is about to vomit and his face turns a sickly green shade. Yet he never pulls away and embraces a sip of the coffee, his instant reaction turning his face three new shades of colors not yet identified to the color spectrum as his left eye springs into twitches before relaxing into something only describable as wide eyed and tear-filled.
“Just like my Mudder used to make… tank you Zalem.”
Salem’s mouth drops open and he looks to Willy.
“Herr Jet has gone to get himself something to eat so he should be back very shortly. “
He sips of the freshly brewed ass juices again. Salem’s eyes still in awe
“Eh tough shit I’m here now… he needs to worry about his match with Bruce Lee this week anyhow. I don’t know what it is exactly that Straight Edge people do to get ready; but he needs to get the fuck on it.”
Willy cuts in for a moment patting Zimmerman on the chest and steps between him and Salem to gain all of Salem’s attention.
“That’s what I like to see son, a strapping young lad who can handle his coffee; and what about you cat? You’ve got another match this week with that fella from Hollywood. “
“Bah”
Salem replies to the old man.
“Old Timer… I’m well aware of what’s going on this week. Last week I had a lot of shit on my mind not to mention blind sided by my best friend, and on top of that my ex wife slithered from what ever rock she’s been hiding under for the past 4 years. See I hope Mr. Hollywood likes scary movies… cause his next project is going to be a gory one. I fucked up last week and got railed from the side… something I’ll take care of soon enough. But Moss and I have unfinished business.”
The elderly black male figure tries to hold up his hands and calm Salem down.
“Alright, alright new blood, but I’m just sayin don’t look past…”
“I’m well aware of what you’re saying Willy, I am… I already heard what he had to say earlier. I took a glance at one of his online exclusives looking over Invader Zim’s here shoulder while he fell asleep watching porn on Sherry’s laptop.”
Zimmerman explodes into a fury of jumping around.
“Nein, Nein…. I vas doing no such ting!!!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night big guy… but Slutober-fest sounds like something right up your lederhosen.”
Zimmerman still bouncing around denying anything of the sort.
“Anyhow I took the time to watch some of his stuff, he’s right you know… I was born to hurt and cause pain. But I’m bred to win. And this week Mister Hollywood has got a Grindhouse with his name on it, a little something left over from last week that I wasn’t able to present to him. Moss thinks tracking through some of the bayous around my home are enough to prepare him for meeting me in the ring? Just wait… cause this Sentinel I’m going to drag Hollywood to Hell.”
Zimmerman still sputtering about, some of it translated and some in his native German tongue.
“Z- Man… Do that thing I like.”
Salem asks as his hand reaches for the handle to the door leading into Jezebel’s room.
“Nein!”
Zimmer barks at him in retort.
“Come on!”
“Nein!”
The two banter back and forth for some time before Willy throws his hands up and walks off.
“Ah fuck it, I doubt you even know what I’m talking about.”
Salem gestures as he pretends to lose interest.
“Vas ov course I do.”
“Eh stop fucken with me you’ve got shit for an idea of what I’m talking about.”
“Vwhat the fuck of you talking about you make fun of me all the time by getting new ways to make me stomp my foot like so…”
Zimmerman stomps his boot against the floor.
“Vand get me to say as they do in das reruns with dis Coronal Clink ven he shouts …Hoooogannn!!!”
Salem has a look cover his face dazed and bit enriched as if just got a hit of some much needed drug fix he had been fiending for some time.
“Very tricky Zalem… very, tricky indeed.”
Salem chuckles to himself turning the handle to the door, still laughing at his own actions.
“Ah Good times man, good times…”
As he begins to enter the room Willy makes his way back in a rush.
“Salem…”
“Oh Jesus… what now I’ve got to see my chick dude… out of her mind or not she’s the reason I’m here not to bullshit with you and the kraut here about my match this week. “
Salem sighed at first having snapped at both of them, but the fix he so richly needed was seeing the woman in the next room that he longed to be by her side every waking moment.
“Your friend…your brother… it’s… look cat they brought in Raenius last night a car accident he’s leaving as we speak, signing his papers.”
“Fuck me!!!”
Salem shouts, the nurses in the hall left looking at him in shock.
“So he’s coherent and shit? They’re releasing him? Good… then he’s alright.”
Willy looks in shock at Zimmerman then back toward Salem, who starts walking back down the hall.
“Why do you care?”
Willy calls the question out to Salem as he watches Salem snatch a bag and drip off an IV pole and drags it down the hall disconnecting it from the wheels and base to leave just the steel rod in his hands.
“Cause I’ve got questions that need to be answered…and it would be uncivilized of me to just beat the hell out of him if he wasn’t ”
The Scene Fades To Black
