The devil went up to Ohio?
Jul 8, 2016 22:08:21 GMT -5
Stuart Slane, 'The Shine' Brent Alpine, and 1 more like this
Post by meteoricrise on Jul 8, 2016 22:08:21 GMT -5
Static Pierce's the air, white noise manufactured by the Rolling of the radio dial between stations. Drowning out the whipping of highway air over T-stop convertible ports. The chrome paint shining pearl metallic silver in the texas sun. The dial comes set and breaks clear to charlie Daniels band "the devil went down to georgia" the devil's second set of lines erupts "the devil opened up his case and he said I'll start this show, and fiiiire flew from his fingertips as he rosined up his bow. And he pulled the bow across the strings and it made an evil hiss. Then a Band of demons joined in and it sounded sumthin' like this." Fingers grab the dial and kick it back silencing the radio. We see the meteoric rise , one hand on the wheel and abstract in the passenger seat, both arms extending out of the car as the 84' Camaro z28 barrels down I-45 north towards the Arkansas border.
Abstract: So, the big date has been set. A little different than we imagined it. But it's possibly a blessing in disguise, one on one, we basically could only hope to embarrass one poor soul. In this instance, we have the opportunity to leave 10% of the company in a heap of piss and blood in and about the area of the ring. I think that's good thing. but as you keep reminding me, I'm young and brash. so how does this play out pops?
Meteoric rise: I wish I could say it's as simple as we walk into nationwide arena in Columbus Ohio, we slap around a few people and walk out unblemished. It's never that simple. Sun Tzu teaches us that " all men can see these tactics whereby I conquer. But what none can see is the strategy by which victory is evolved." You don't go in, and figure it out on the fly. This game we play, it's human chess. Everyone has a role and a part to play in the way the game unfolds. But let's not make more of this particular fight than it is. These are not Queens and knights and rooks we are capturing. These are pawns being moved off the board for the next wave to commence. We need room on the board son. We need to weigh the strengths and weaknesses of each team. None of us have ever competed with each other. So we are a scratch to that effect. There is no advantage to anyone. Our side of the field has size comparative to our opponent. We have a pair of 220+ pounders in myself and @@@. And we got two dandy little sky dancers in bok Choy and Astro. Across the board we have a trifecta of sub 200 pound walking frisbees that think this is going to be a dazzling display of planchas and tope con hilos. I have news for them. I googled it, if you grab someone's leg and drive their knee into the earth about twenty times, they have a hard time getting to the top rope. And once the ring has become a no fly zone, they will have about 13% of their total available arsenal left. And about 12.9% of that total number is Cenate, at 5'10" and 270 pounds, your quite the little bowling bar aren't you fella? The plan is simple, we get our butterflies to dance with their butterflies, while me and @@@ stomp their rhino beetle into tiny little insect parts. What's that you say? That, that leaves a butterfly on their team unaccounted for? Whether it's Jones, Kaine or Kane, they all got a little over 40 pounds on my ace in the hole. The WCF needs to get something through their domes right now. Don't sleep on the greatest piece of art I've ever created. The masterstroke of my lifetime. My personal starry night. The young monster to my immediate right. He's going to be involved, somehow, some way, expect it, it's reality. He is not a spectator in this. This is as much his March to get as mine. So, that being said, I'm going to remain silent on two of my partners who haven't been able to pry ducktape from their mouths yet. Short of saying, stay out of our way and do your damned job. And I'm not going to comment heavily on any one of my opponents as they too have had difficulty in beating laryngitis.
Meteoric rise shifts the car up and floors it as abstract gets pumped up knowing what's coming. The car takes an abrupt slight right off the shoulder onto a feeder and then another immediate slight right onto a loose gravel road. Rise jerks the wheel right and jams the brake and power slides the car to a stop, sliding and shifting gravel skyward.
Meteoric rise: @@@, thus far, you have been the sole bright blink of miserable light in an otherwise haunting abyss. However, don't presume to know me. Or my relationship with my son. Or our methods or our madness. Don't be a sheeple and think of abstract as a cookie cutter cut out of the average American kid. He doesn't play the Pokemon. He doesn't play the video games. Like most things from Texas, he's a little rougher around the edges. He's a little tougher than the typical minion. He's a prototype of what we should inspire our offspring to be. Self reliant, hard skinned, vicious to a point. When they hit the go button, he's a pitbull attacking a beach ball. Kids get hurt every year playing little league football. 10 year old kids can white water raft on stage 4 rapids. We have 4 species of venomous snake indigenous to our state. He can be killed hunting squirrels in the woods in our backyard. The ring is no place for a kid? Good thing I'm not bringing a kid. I'm bringing the monster that lurks under the bed. Slap some fangs on him and he's the stuff of nightmares. So we can work together to a common goal or we can implode this thing before it even gets off the ground. I myself prefer the path that leads to scoring the big W. But I'm not completely against any plan that involves bloodshed. To close this little monologue for my opponents and their perceived high flying superiority. Lyndon B. Johnson once wrote "the atomic bomb is certainly the most powerful of all weapons. but it is conclusively powerful and effective only in the hands of a nation which controls the sky." And Sunday night you boys are never getting the chance to leave the tarmac.
The scene begins to fade to black as the back hatch of the Camaro emblazons the words "violence isn't the only options, but it is always an option."
Abstract: So, the big date has been set. A little different than we imagined it. But it's possibly a blessing in disguise, one on one, we basically could only hope to embarrass one poor soul. In this instance, we have the opportunity to leave 10% of the company in a heap of piss and blood in and about the area of the ring. I think that's good thing. but as you keep reminding me, I'm young and brash. so how does this play out pops?
Meteoric rise: I wish I could say it's as simple as we walk into nationwide arena in Columbus Ohio, we slap around a few people and walk out unblemished. It's never that simple. Sun Tzu teaches us that " all men can see these tactics whereby I conquer. But what none can see is the strategy by which victory is evolved." You don't go in, and figure it out on the fly. This game we play, it's human chess. Everyone has a role and a part to play in the way the game unfolds. But let's not make more of this particular fight than it is. These are not Queens and knights and rooks we are capturing. These are pawns being moved off the board for the next wave to commence. We need room on the board son. We need to weigh the strengths and weaknesses of each team. None of us have ever competed with each other. So we are a scratch to that effect. There is no advantage to anyone. Our side of the field has size comparative to our opponent. We have a pair of 220+ pounders in myself and @@@. And we got two dandy little sky dancers in bok Choy and Astro. Across the board we have a trifecta of sub 200 pound walking frisbees that think this is going to be a dazzling display of planchas and tope con hilos. I have news for them. I googled it, if you grab someone's leg and drive their knee into the earth about twenty times, they have a hard time getting to the top rope. And once the ring has become a no fly zone, they will have about 13% of their total available arsenal left. And about 12.9% of that total number is Cenate, at 5'10" and 270 pounds, your quite the little bowling bar aren't you fella? The plan is simple, we get our butterflies to dance with their butterflies, while me and @@@ stomp their rhino beetle into tiny little insect parts. What's that you say? That, that leaves a butterfly on their team unaccounted for? Whether it's Jones, Kaine or Kane, they all got a little over 40 pounds on my ace in the hole. The WCF needs to get something through their domes right now. Don't sleep on the greatest piece of art I've ever created. The masterstroke of my lifetime. My personal starry night. The young monster to my immediate right. He's going to be involved, somehow, some way, expect it, it's reality. He is not a spectator in this. This is as much his March to get as mine. So, that being said, I'm going to remain silent on two of my partners who haven't been able to pry ducktape from their mouths yet. Short of saying, stay out of our way and do your damned job. And I'm not going to comment heavily on any one of my opponents as they too have had difficulty in beating laryngitis.
Meteoric rise shifts the car up and floors it as abstract gets pumped up knowing what's coming. The car takes an abrupt slight right off the shoulder onto a feeder and then another immediate slight right onto a loose gravel road. Rise jerks the wheel right and jams the brake and power slides the car to a stop, sliding and shifting gravel skyward.
Meteoric rise: @@@, thus far, you have been the sole bright blink of miserable light in an otherwise haunting abyss. However, don't presume to know me. Or my relationship with my son. Or our methods or our madness. Don't be a sheeple and think of abstract as a cookie cutter cut out of the average American kid. He doesn't play the Pokemon. He doesn't play the video games. Like most things from Texas, he's a little rougher around the edges. He's a little tougher than the typical minion. He's a prototype of what we should inspire our offspring to be. Self reliant, hard skinned, vicious to a point. When they hit the go button, he's a pitbull attacking a beach ball. Kids get hurt every year playing little league football. 10 year old kids can white water raft on stage 4 rapids. We have 4 species of venomous snake indigenous to our state. He can be killed hunting squirrels in the woods in our backyard. The ring is no place for a kid? Good thing I'm not bringing a kid. I'm bringing the monster that lurks under the bed. Slap some fangs on him and he's the stuff of nightmares. So we can work together to a common goal or we can implode this thing before it even gets off the ground. I myself prefer the path that leads to scoring the big W. But I'm not completely against any plan that involves bloodshed. To close this little monologue for my opponents and their perceived high flying superiority. Lyndon B. Johnson once wrote "the atomic bomb is certainly the most powerful of all weapons. but it is conclusively powerful and effective only in the hands of a nation which controls the sky." And Sunday night you boys are never getting the chance to leave the tarmac.
The scene begins to fade to black as the back hatch of the Camaro emblazons the words "violence isn't the only options, but it is always an option."
