Post by The Collective on Apr 28, 2017 5:05:18 GMT
ONE WEEK AFTER THE SUPER SHOW
“And why are we in this shithole Hell’s Kitchen again? I see no purpose whatsoeva to being in this place.”
Tira looked over to the agitated Starlight, shaking his head before looking back to the decrepit night streets ahead of them. “I’m tellin’ ya bro, we need ta make sure that when Geno and I step into that ring at Tempest we make that shit look easy. I don’t wanna look like a punk. I ain’t about to go that route of goin’ from newcomer to jabronie, I ain’t about that.”
“Neither am I Tony. Still though, Hell’s Kitchen of all places?”
“Trust me bro, the best way to prepare for a match with weapons is a street fight, with weapons of course.”
“Great, so you dragged me down here to get my good suit dirty?”
“I didn’t ask you to wear that fairy shit. You’s the one that has to look dapper wherever da’ fuck you go.”
“Not my fault I got style ya fuckin’ bum!!”
Sensing a fight brewing, the gentle giant Geno calmed the situation with a deep “Guys.” The monster got them to stop sniping at each other, but didn’t stop Frankie’s complaining.
“For real though, why can’t you and Geno do this shit? Why’s I gotta be dragged into it?”
Tony looked at him with a smirk and gave him a friendly pat. “Because you’re our boy and you’re our backup. Not only that, but you gotta prep for your match at the Tempest. Who the fuck you facing again?”
“Some big jap and some goth weirdo comin’ back from an injury. But what the fuck does that have to do with backing you up?”
Tony’s eyes popped out of his bald head. “We’re pickin’ a fight dummy!! You know how a fight with more than one goes on the street Frankie, they don’t pick their spots. They come at you all at once...pwffftt” Tony drew his hands together to emphasise Frankie being attacked from all sides.
“Oh shit.” An unexpected rise of the eyebrows and a smile from Frankie. “Been awhile. I could use a little freshening up for Oni and Elena.”
“It has. And oh wouldn’t you know it, we’re at our destination.”
Tony and friends stopped right in front of a hole in the wall biker bar named simply ‘Cliff’s’. Parked out front were six Harleys, each shined up and looking ready for the showroom. “Only six huh? Piece of cake.”
With a well placed boot Tony knocked over the first bike, sending it clattering into the one next to it, and so forth in a domino effect until they all lay stacked. Applause from the boys as Tony took a step back with a smile, loving the shit he was about to start. He sat there, expecting any minute for a pack of bikers to emerge from the dive and find out what the loud clatter outside was. After ten seconds, nothing. “Huh. Maybe the music is too loud. I think we should go tell em’.”
Frankie chuckled and wagged his finger at the ballsiness of Tony, who smiled and made his way towards the bar, making sure to use one of the toppled bikes as a step stool to make his way to the door of the bar. As soon as he swung open the heavy pine door loud local butt rock poured out, pretty much confirming Tony’s suspicions. The group made their way inside the rundown establishment, all eyes on them right off the bat. Neither of them dressed the part of the biker, and looked completely out of place amongst the sea of leather and denim. They even caught the attention of the band playing on stage, who halted abruptly as the sore thumb group walked through a lane of pool tables. As they casually strolled Tira looked around the establishment, getting a good number of the possible heads they’d have to cave in tonight. Eleven, including the band. Not bad. With a visual inventory set, Tira looked to the stage.
“Oh good!! Glad ya stopped for us. I just wanted to let ya guys know something.”
The singer backed up as Tony hopped onto the three foot stage and proceeded to take the mic. Frankie and Geno made their way by his side, and looked around at the confused biker faces glued to them. “Alright so I just wanted to let you little frail pussy bitches know that we toppled ova’ your faggot machines on the curb out there.” Already he could see them tensing up. “So what I want to know is...what the fuck you gonna do about it?”
Switchblades, pool sticks, and beer bottles were cocked, locked, and loaded. The danger ahead gave Tony and crew ear to ear grins at the carnage about to unfold by their hands.
SHORTLY AFTER THE FIGHT
“Goddammit Tony!! Shit!! Motherfucking shitty cocksucker!!”
Usually Geno would try to calm the savage anger of Frankie Starlight, but this clearly wasn’t the time to do so. Once again Frankie had been wounded in his bad shoulder. Instead of a bullet this time it was a switchblade, lodged handle deep inside the scar tissue of his battle worn appendage. To make matters worse, they had to escape to a sewer of all places just to escape the pigs. Turns out one of the bikers was an undercover cop, leaving them running from a string of cop cars. Thankfully they had Geno and his retard strength to rip off a sewer grate bare handed and allow them to escape the fuzz.
“Look brotha, I know you’re pissed right now but please, try to keep quiet. They’s probably still sniffin’ around up there.”
Frankie wanted to scream badly, but instead he just gave a grit tooth growl as he balled his fists in pain. “Tony I could fucking strangle you right now. Seriously.”
“And I know, I would deserve it. Trust me buddy, I’ll make it up to you for draggin’ you into this mess.”
“Better.” Frankie didn’t even try to fight the craving this time. He reached into his jacket pocket with his good hand and pulled out a vial. A shaky, trauma ridden hand popped the cap off onto the shit caked concrete below, not caring if he used the container again. Tony and Geno looked over at him, not daring to stop him after putting his shoulder in jeopardy, again. The container was fully emptied on his jacket sleeve, being separated into three big rails. He tossed the empty container over his shoulder, and one by one snorted up the big lines of cocaine swiftly. Three big lines back to back kickstarted him immediately, bringing on the numbness which he deeply wanted. Gradually his tight fists loosened, and a small grin came over his sweat drenched face.
Seeing the euphoria present in Frankie’s saucer shaped pupils brought on a chuckle from Tony, who usually would do all he could to prevent Frankie from using. This time however was a rare exception. With Frankie pacified, Tony looked to Geno. “So you know your way out of here? Cause’ I don’t know Hell’s Kitchen for shit.”
Geno shrugged being he was in a familiar spot. “Oh well, guess we’ll just go a mile straight then climb back up.”
The group followed Tony’s lead down the tunnel of scum, hoping to find their way out. All was quiet for the first minute. Then a whirring sound spawned in the distance, cocking the heads of the three brave travelers. With the coke temporarily wiping out his pain, Frankie was able to think about what walking in a sewer could possibly entail. “Don’t sewers usually have a big wall of shit water that comes through every hour?”
Tony’s eyes widened at the scary possibility of being bathed by shit water. “Oh shit. Run!”
With those words the gang ran their asses off, hoping to find a nearby ladder to the street before getting the most unwanted shower of their lives.
APRIL 27TH
“You don’t even know how much I’m dreadin’ this.”
Sitting before the camera is Frankie Starlight, dressed in nothing more than slacks and a white beater. Both of his shoulders are heavily taped up, with a pink bandage residing over the left. He sits there scowling, hair hanging in front of his face as he looks down at the ground. “Not only do I gotta wrestle with a bum shoulder, I gotta do it in this filthy fuckin’ sewah of a country called Mexico. I know that ain’t exactly PC but let’s face it, Mexico is only good for two things: drugs and hookahs. Besides that it’s a crime infested shithole where the cops are dirtier than the criminals. Why Slaine Rodrick wanted to book a show in this third world country is beyond me, but I ain’t one to miss out on a payday, so here I am, Frankie Starlight, draggin’ my bum shoulder havin’ ass on a plane to come to a hotel where I’m still waitin’ after forty five fuckin’ minutes for my room service tacos which probably have spit in em’. Oh the life of a wresslah. Wouldn’t trade it for nothin’.”
Frankie looks up to the camera with a smirk. “I know what I must look like right now to Oni and Elena. Vulnerable. Ripe for the pickings, so to speak. That’s fine, I want them to think that. I want these two fucks to know ahead of time what my weaknesses are. I want them to know those weaknesses, and even though they may know those weaknesses and will try their best to exploit them, I will still emerge victorious. All I need is two legs.” Slaps both thighs. “These two legs are unstoppable, healthy, well oiled machines that will crush a roided out Jap and a gothed out Brit. I know, I’m still a new kid here on the block. But I know enough to say proudly that I shouldn’t be looked over. I think I proved that when I took out the heavily praised veteran Nessa Wall in her first Phoenix Wrestling match. No one thought it was possible, yet here comes Frankie Starlight pulling into upset city. All haters abooooarrrdd!!!”
A laugh from Frankie as he rockets his hand off towards the green neon lighting reflecting into his room from outside. “Even that little butt boy poodle Matt Stone tried to pull some shit. What happened? I still fuckin’ won. Even better is my boys came out and sent those mutts tuckin’ their tails and chased off. Lovin’ it. So with Nessa out of the way Slaine decided it’d be best for me to not only face one person, but two since I did so good and all. What a guy that Slaine is. But you know me, tough guy extraordinaire. I don’t turn down no stinkin’ challenges, which is why you’re gonna see me go into this match full throttle. No injury is gonna stop me from competin’.
Seems like that’s the same situation for Elena too. She’s coming back from an ankle injury, the bane of a pro wrestlah. Especially for her being she relied on that leg strength for her submission and kickin’ game. First match back, so who’s to tell if she really is ready to come back. Knowin’ her, she’s going to come into this match cocky as fuck. Actin’ like she’s one hundred percent and lookin’ down on two newcomers to PW like Oni and I as a steppin’ stone back to greatness. I don’t know about Oni, but Elena I assure you I am not some steppin’ stone. I am a verifiable threat who does not give a shit he’s not one hundred percent. I wrestle with pain every single match, so I’m used to it. My question to you missy is are you used to the pain? Are you willing to go all out with a limb that may go out on you at any time? Nothing is stopping me from doing anything in my moveset. While yours on the other hand may be limited. I’m playin’ poker here, but I think you’re bluffin’. Only one way to tell, and that’s dropkicking you in the knee right off the bat. Test that stability. I look forward to smacking your make up, and ego off that porn star face.
As for you Oni, you seem to be the dark horse in this match. The Japanese bad ass who narrowly lost in his debut match, now finds himself pitted against two randos on an undercard of a pay per view. So I know already you’re thinkin’ to yourself that you gotta come in guns blazin’ and do everything you can to pull out the win. I implore you Yakuza boy to hit me with all you got. Trust me, I can take your kicks and then some. I got as much to prove as you do. While that little girl Frisky barely beat you, many claim I barely beat Nessa. Now if you ask me, it’s worse to have a controversial win than a controversial loss. I’m still happy I won, don’t get me wrong, but you better believe I got something to prove. I’m not about to spend my PW career dwelling at the bottom of the card, fighting Fin and Twin and whatever scraps PW can throw at me. Even with two bad shoulders, I’m still better than that. So just know Oni that I come to kick you as hard as I possibly can in the face. Usually I’d just play it smart and tire you out solo, but being this is a three way I figure I’ll knock you out first then wear down Elena. You’re a big tough bastard Oni, but you’re not smart enough to hang with the likes of Frankie…”
BAP BAP BAP
“SERVICIO!!”
Frankie looks over to his hotel room door, kicking up off the mattress and walking towards the door. “Starlight!!”
As Frankie prepares to yell at attendant in spanish, the camera fades to black.
WORD COUNT: 2314