Post by letham on Jul 24, 2008 23:27:54 GMT -6
The sun hangs high which scattered clouds dance around the blue sky. The camera swings downward into a suburban neighborhood. A few children run down the sidewalk, hurrying to reach the gas station around the corner in order to conquer their thirst in this 90 degree weather. The camera zooms in slowly. A car with a family rolling 4 deep steadily drives down the street before pulling into a driveway a couple of houses down from where the focus is; a small, but respectable house in the middle of the block. Two floors high, the house emits a color resembling the sky above. A couple of windows on the first floor, as well as the second, with the second having one of the windows pleading for new curtains, as it seems to have been ignored and torn over some years.
The torn curtain seems to catch a small breeze with the window opened, and reveals a shaggy man sitting on a bed, lacing up a pair of red maroon and gold Nike dunks. the laces are tied and he rises from the bed. The torn curtain falls back into place.
The camera reaches door level after scanning the rest of the modest-sized house, and awaits the exit from the newly labeled Dallas resident. The door opens and letham walks out in a teal green playboy t-shirt and cut off work pants. His hair is pushed away from his eyes, but never really stays away for too long, and his beard is going on a month, maybe longer.
Letham walks down the stairs and looks down the street, only to see an elderly women attempting to walk up her stairs to her door, but is finding it rough just to reach the stairs let alone walk up them. He turns back to his house and takes in a deep breath.
He exhales.
Dallas, Texas. Who would have guessed I'd end up here.
The family a couple doors down are unloading their car. The mother rushes her children into the house after a glimpse of who her new neighbor is.
Letham sighs.
I guess I should expect that.
But what to do now? After a week of searching for a house, and a few days to move into one, I don't know where to turn next.
A paper boy, who looks no older than 7, comes by on a bike that still has training wheels and tosses a paper at Letham's feet. The kid waits a second, giving Letham an intimidating stare, and then pedals off slowly with a large sack of papers that still need to be delivered.
Letham looks at the kid as he treks away and shakes his head. He picks up the paper He flips through the boring republican propaganda the briefly mentions some global warming scare tactic and an elephant that was found in the corner of a well populated room, and lands on the SNW scorecard.
And here it is, my first mention as a pro wrestler.
He scans it over quickly and reads from it.
...and even Letham, a nobody from New York City got into the mix by delivering a useless moonsault onto a crowd of distracted wrestlers, just to let them know he was there...
Letham lowers the paper.
If I knew that a usless moonsault onto a distracted crowd would have gotten me a line in the newspaper, I would opened up shop in Times Sqaure.
Letham goes back to the paper and sees that upcoming card for the ppv.
And look at that, it also got me my first match.
Letham looks a little closer at the paper to see who he's facing.
Omerta and Andy, triple threat? Hmm... Interesting.
Letham tosses the paper aside and leaves his stairs. He starts down the block only to realize that he doesn't really know where he's headed. He shrugs his shoulders and continues walking.
My debut! A triple threat match. What else could I ask for. Maybe some nice wrestling tights with my name on it! With tassles and a headband. I could bring back the Rock and Roll Express. Marty Jannety could only dream of looking this good.
Letham stops at the corner and looks both ways before crossing a deserted street.
But I will need a nice entrance. A real crowd pleaser. Something that they can erupt to. Pyros and lights flashing and fireworks throughout the entire arena. Because it's that initial intimidation that's gonna lead me to victory. i mean, look at the big names out there. Without Hulk Hogan's All-American entrance, where would he be. He probably would have found American Gladiators alot sooner. But of course, not to offend someone as great as the Hulkster, because there's nothing i want more than to be able to wear a pre-ripped shirt that i can shred to pieces before leg dropping the crap out of everyone in my way.
Letham mimics a legdrop while walking, but not actually following to the floor. A kid holding his mother's hand, about 3 or 4, sees this and laughs.
Haha, there's a hulkamaniac if I ever saw one. Give me a high five little guy.
The mother grabs the little kid away from Letham and keeps walking. Letham looks upset.
Man, I hope it's not the beard.
Letham strokes his beard and then regains his train of thought.
But I guess what's really going to matter is when I'm standing next to Ommy-Baby and Andy, who's going to act first. Will Andy attack me...try and take out my legs. Or will Ommy try and ground Andy and then pick on the newbie. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll come out of no where with a waffle iron and clean house, because there is nothing i do better than make quick work with a waffle iron.
Letham stops at another corner, but this time waits and looks in all different directions.
What the...how the hell did i get here!?! What the hell Dallas!?
Letham shrugs his shoulders and makes a right and continues walking in hopes of finding something that strokes his memory.
But no, seriously, really serious now, I've been reading a lot about these triple threat matches. Wikipedia has informed me on all the rules and now that I am able to imagine myself in a ring, fighting off two opponents attempting to dismantle me, I have realized that a lot of the rules won't matter too much and I'm just going to have to step in the ring at the ppv, of course after my big grand entrance, and take down my foes one by one.
Andy, you shall be first, because after hearing you blabber, I feel like the world just doesn't need to hear much of you any longer. My fist was slowly clenching during your monoluge that if it went on for any longer, i might have been forced to beat my self into a comma, and cherish those days of unconsciousness. Humankind just isn't ready for a mouth like yours, and I am putting my heart and soul into not making that sound like a compliment.
As my boot lays into your face time after time after time, i just want you to know that all of the ensuing punishment can be yielded in direct proportion to the thoughts in your head that you don't unleash publicly. My boot might still come in contact with yourself numerous times, but I will be thinking of it more as a job rather than as a favor to society. But i feel like that kitty cat sized brain of yours probably won't be able to control all those fragmented thoughts zooming around inside your head. Society will just need to thank me later than.
Letham's voice trails off as he stops again. He sees a Dairy Queen in front of him, but to the left and right, his surroudings seemed to have not changed at all. Suburbua has made him it's prisoner.
I guess Diary Queen it is.
Letham walks in, gets a chocolate sundae and walks out, He sits under a large plastic umbrella set up in the outside patio of the Dairy Queens and takes some spoon fulls of the sundae.
Sorry if I don't seem as enthused about facing you, Ommy, but I do have to admit that eating this sundae is way better than talking about fighting your sad carcass.
Letham takes a few more spoon fulls before getting a severe brain freeze. He breathes in deep and lets it out slow while scrunching his face in agony. After finally exhaling, the pain seems to have gone away.
Now that that's over, facing you doesn't seem so bad Ommy. I mean, can fighting you really compare to a terrible brain freeze? Do you have the ability to seize control of my head for almost a minute? Can you cause pain out of something so delicious? I don't think so. This sundae has you beat Ommy. It only took a minute to surpress the pain that the sundae put on me, so it probably won't take more than 40 seconds to take you out of commission. A couple of swift jabs to the cranium, maybe a take down or two. I might slip in a few of my own special concoctions that I like to lay out there, just to leave my mark, but i doubt it'll be that necessary. I'll probably have to eat another sundae, or maybe two, just to be sure I'm trained enough, but I seem to be in tip top shape.
Letham looks down at his empty sundae cup.
That used to take me at least a minute and a half to get over, and i think I clocked in a little under a minute this time. That's a personal best, my friend.
Letham gets up and treks back to the sidewalk and approaches another street crossing.
So with that now out in the open, I guess you two can finally see where I'm at...way away of you. But i guess i can give you guys a little bit of a handicap come the ppv. That is, if I ever make it around this town.
F'n A...now where the hell is my house...
Letham crosses the street, looking in every direction as the camera sweeps up and zooms out. The screen dips to black.
End
The torn curtain seems to catch a small breeze with the window opened, and reveals a shaggy man sitting on a bed, lacing up a pair of red maroon and gold Nike dunks. the laces are tied and he rises from the bed. The torn curtain falls back into place.
The camera reaches door level after scanning the rest of the modest-sized house, and awaits the exit from the newly labeled Dallas resident. The door opens and letham walks out in a teal green playboy t-shirt and cut off work pants. His hair is pushed away from his eyes, but never really stays away for too long, and his beard is going on a month, maybe longer.
Letham walks down the stairs and looks down the street, only to see an elderly women attempting to walk up her stairs to her door, but is finding it rough just to reach the stairs let alone walk up them. He turns back to his house and takes in a deep breath.
He exhales.
Dallas, Texas. Who would have guessed I'd end up here.
The family a couple doors down are unloading their car. The mother rushes her children into the house after a glimpse of who her new neighbor is.
Letham sighs.
I guess I should expect that.
But what to do now? After a week of searching for a house, and a few days to move into one, I don't know where to turn next.
A paper boy, who looks no older than 7, comes by on a bike that still has training wheels and tosses a paper at Letham's feet. The kid waits a second, giving Letham an intimidating stare, and then pedals off slowly with a large sack of papers that still need to be delivered.
Letham looks at the kid as he treks away and shakes his head. He picks up the paper He flips through the boring republican propaganda the briefly mentions some global warming scare tactic and an elephant that was found in the corner of a well populated room, and lands on the SNW scorecard.
And here it is, my first mention as a pro wrestler.
He scans it over quickly and reads from it.
...and even Letham, a nobody from New York City got into the mix by delivering a useless moonsault onto a crowd of distracted wrestlers, just to let them know he was there...
Letham lowers the paper.
If I knew that a usless moonsault onto a distracted crowd would have gotten me a line in the newspaper, I would opened up shop in Times Sqaure.
Letham goes back to the paper and sees that upcoming card for the ppv.
And look at that, it also got me my first match.
Letham looks a little closer at the paper to see who he's facing.
Omerta and Andy, triple threat? Hmm... Interesting.
Letham tosses the paper aside and leaves his stairs. He starts down the block only to realize that he doesn't really know where he's headed. He shrugs his shoulders and continues walking.
My debut! A triple threat match. What else could I ask for. Maybe some nice wrestling tights with my name on it! With tassles and a headband. I could bring back the Rock and Roll Express. Marty Jannety could only dream of looking this good.
Letham stops at the corner and looks both ways before crossing a deserted street.
But I will need a nice entrance. A real crowd pleaser. Something that they can erupt to. Pyros and lights flashing and fireworks throughout the entire arena. Because it's that initial intimidation that's gonna lead me to victory. i mean, look at the big names out there. Without Hulk Hogan's All-American entrance, where would he be. He probably would have found American Gladiators alot sooner. But of course, not to offend someone as great as the Hulkster, because there's nothing i want more than to be able to wear a pre-ripped shirt that i can shred to pieces before leg dropping the crap out of everyone in my way.
Letham mimics a legdrop while walking, but not actually following to the floor. A kid holding his mother's hand, about 3 or 4, sees this and laughs.
Haha, there's a hulkamaniac if I ever saw one. Give me a high five little guy.
The mother grabs the little kid away from Letham and keeps walking. Letham looks upset.
Man, I hope it's not the beard.
Letham strokes his beard and then regains his train of thought.
But I guess what's really going to matter is when I'm standing next to Ommy-Baby and Andy, who's going to act first. Will Andy attack me...try and take out my legs. Or will Ommy try and ground Andy and then pick on the newbie. Or maybe, just maybe, I'll come out of no where with a waffle iron and clean house, because there is nothing i do better than make quick work with a waffle iron.
Letham stops at another corner, but this time waits and looks in all different directions.
What the...how the hell did i get here!?! What the hell Dallas!?
Letham shrugs his shoulders and makes a right and continues walking in hopes of finding something that strokes his memory.
But no, seriously, really serious now, I've been reading a lot about these triple threat matches. Wikipedia has informed me on all the rules and now that I am able to imagine myself in a ring, fighting off two opponents attempting to dismantle me, I have realized that a lot of the rules won't matter too much and I'm just going to have to step in the ring at the ppv, of course after my big grand entrance, and take down my foes one by one.
Andy, you shall be first, because after hearing you blabber, I feel like the world just doesn't need to hear much of you any longer. My fist was slowly clenching during your monoluge that if it went on for any longer, i might have been forced to beat my self into a comma, and cherish those days of unconsciousness. Humankind just isn't ready for a mouth like yours, and I am putting my heart and soul into not making that sound like a compliment.
As my boot lays into your face time after time after time, i just want you to know that all of the ensuing punishment can be yielded in direct proportion to the thoughts in your head that you don't unleash publicly. My boot might still come in contact with yourself numerous times, but I will be thinking of it more as a job rather than as a favor to society. But i feel like that kitty cat sized brain of yours probably won't be able to control all those fragmented thoughts zooming around inside your head. Society will just need to thank me later than.
Letham's voice trails off as he stops again. He sees a Dairy Queen in front of him, but to the left and right, his surroudings seemed to have not changed at all. Suburbua has made him it's prisoner.
I guess Diary Queen it is.
Letham walks in, gets a chocolate sundae and walks out, He sits under a large plastic umbrella set up in the outside patio of the Dairy Queens and takes some spoon fulls of the sundae.
Sorry if I don't seem as enthused about facing you, Ommy, but I do have to admit that eating this sundae is way better than talking about fighting your sad carcass.
Letham takes a few more spoon fulls before getting a severe brain freeze. He breathes in deep and lets it out slow while scrunching his face in agony. After finally exhaling, the pain seems to have gone away.
Now that that's over, facing you doesn't seem so bad Ommy. I mean, can fighting you really compare to a terrible brain freeze? Do you have the ability to seize control of my head for almost a minute? Can you cause pain out of something so delicious? I don't think so. This sundae has you beat Ommy. It only took a minute to surpress the pain that the sundae put on me, so it probably won't take more than 40 seconds to take you out of commission. A couple of swift jabs to the cranium, maybe a take down or two. I might slip in a few of my own special concoctions that I like to lay out there, just to leave my mark, but i doubt it'll be that necessary. I'll probably have to eat another sundae, or maybe two, just to be sure I'm trained enough, but I seem to be in tip top shape.
Letham looks down at his empty sundae cup.
That used to take me at least a minute and a half to get over, and i think I clocked in a little under a minute this time. That's a personal best, my friend.
Letham gets up and treks back to the sidewalk and approaches another street crossing.
So with that now out in the open, I guess you two can finally see where I'm at...way away of you. But i guess i can give you guys a little bit of a handicap come the ppv. That is, if I ever make it around this town.
F'n A...now where the hell is my house...
Letham crosses the street, looking in every direction as the camera sweeps up and zooms out. The screen dips to black.
End