Post by jasoncash on Aug 6, 2016 16:01:38 GMT -5
ason Cash laughed when he saw the word "Jaymz" on the glass at the top of the door. He'd never imagined that the demonic man known as Jaymz would ever take a desk job. Jaymz just never seemed like the type. Hed murder, pillage, steal, but never sit behind a desk for any period of time. So imagine Jason's suprise when he saw that name on the door.
Jason, himself, had a beer in hand and a dip in his mouth when he opened the door.
"Big ugly!", Jason yelled as he burst into the room, opening the door so hard that it banged on the wall.
While the noise would startle anyone else, it didn't startle Jaymz. Oh no. It only pissed the massive man off.
"Cash", Jaymz said in a growling voice that seemed much deeper than it should. His eyes began to turn black. A tattoo on his at seemed to shift. The room began to shake.
Did this all bother our hillbilly hero? Of course not. Nothing really scared him. This should have though.
Now, Jaymz had always hated Jason Cash. He'd hated Cash from the very beginning. Maybe it was Cash's brash nature. Or maybe it was the super kick.
You see, when Jason Cash first entered the wrestling business, he made an announcement that he was going to get after the "biggest dog in the yard" and well..at seven feet tall, that would be Jaymz. So that night, while Jaymz walked backstage, Jason spit tobacco in his face and superkicked him. Jaymz has hated Cash since then. He didn't even want the man in ZT but was out voted.
The room shook, but Cash only smiled a big ole smile and drank his beer. It would have been wise to run from the man who was destined to rule Hell, but Cash was never the brightest bulb.
"Now that's the mean sumbitch I remember. The hell you doing sitting behind a desk anyway?", Cash asked as he walked in from the doorway.
Jaymz took a huge step forward, throwing the desk to the side with ease. The big man grinned. The windows shattered, causing air to rush in with the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach. Still, Jason walked in. The building shook as the mortal Jaymz lost control of the immortal beast within.
Erik Black came rushing into the room after guessing what was going on. There were rarely earth quakes here after all.
"Cash. Get in my office now!", he yelled as he grabbed Jason by his dirty white shirt. Jason stumbled backwards.
Erik could only shake his head at Cash's huge grin. "What the fuck were you thinking?", Erik asked.
Cash could only shrug his shoulders and ask, "What do ya mean?".
Erik put his head down and shook it. "You understand that Jaymz has powers, right?, he started.
Jason nodded.
"Then why the hell did you stay?", Erik asked. Jason took off his cowboy hat and scratched his head. "Well I reckon its because I ain't scared of a sumbitch walkin Gods green earth. I'll fight anybody.", was Jason Cash's answer.
Erik could only stand there shaking his head. Jaymz was not one to be messed with. He was dangerous..very dangerous.
"Look. I'll talk to Jaymz. This has to stop. You guys are pissing him off way too much.", Erik said as he straightened his suit. "You're having lunch with me. It's a business meeting so wear something nice."
Jaymz blinked. His eyes returned to normal and the building stopped shaking. He looked around wondering what had happened. The he saw Cash being pulled from the room. It was then that he guessed he'd lost control of the beast.
"One day....hes mine.", Jaymz heard a voice in his head say.
1pm
Erik sat at a corner table in a rather crowded restaurant. He was dressed in his usual black Armani suit and didn't look happy at all. It could have been the waitress. She was your typical "valley girl" type. You know, the ones who say " like totally" with every sentence. Erik hated those types. Or it could be the man who sat accross from him. Or it could have been the fact that Jason Cash showed up, not in attire suitable for a business meeting. No, Cash wore ripped jeans and boots. Atleast he had on a button up shirt. It was stained and wrinkled though.
Chris Harrold was a short, overweight man with a haircut that would make him popular in the seventeen hundreds. It was long and white, tied into a ponytail. Erik loathed the man, which was evident by the look on his face, but he would listen to any business proposition. He never read a book by its cover after all.
Chris was something of a hacker. He'd created a new security software that could revolutionize the IT industry and needed a bit of funding. And that's where Erik came in.
" Damn shame, man", Chris said as he put a newspaper down on the table. " Another missing person. I hope like hell they find the this one", he added as he looked over the appetizers. The missing person in question was a blonde kid who used to work for ZT "They'll never find the body.", Erik said matter of factly. Chris was a bit shocked. "How do you know?, he asked. Erik could only smile that smile that is so familiar. This caught Jason's attention. You see, he'd been guzzling beer and staring at the waitresses..even the valley girl typed one. He thought she was, as Jason put it.." A mighty fine price of ass".
Jason looked at Erik. "They'll never find the damn body? How in the hell do you know?", he asked. Erik shot him a look. It was a look that confused our hero. Did Erik have something to do with it? Jason Cash didnt know
It didn't seem to affect Chris, as he dug into the stuffed mushrooms in front of him. "So hows the wrestling business treating you?", Chris asked. Erik looked at him flatly. "I'm retired. We've been over this already. Cash has taken my place in the ring.", Erik answered. He clearly just wanted to get the lunch meeting over and leave. And so Chris asked Jason the question.
By this point, Jason had his feet propped on the table. He put his beer down and sat up. He'd never been to a business meeting before and didn't really expect to be asked anything, so it took him by surprise.
"Well..I whoop wholesale ass. Just this past week, Crazy J ,Shep, Kira and me beat the holy hell out of an old man and a sumbitchin chink.", he started but was cut off.
"Down to business.", Erik said just as the waitress came back. Your meals will be out soon. Like can I get anything for you in the mean time?", she said. Erik adjusted his tie, clearly annoyed. Jason gave her his three empty beer bottles
Chris slid Erik a folder. Erik opened the folder and looked over the documents inside. He didn't seem happy with what he saw. " So you think this will revolutionize the industry?", Erik asked. Chris quickly nodded. " Just as much as Zero Tolerance revolutionized the wrestling business.", Chris answered. Erik doubted that. And he had good reason. ZT made the biggest jobber train harder to become as good as they are.
"It starts with a one hundred twenty eight bit", he started. "Encryption....I know", Erik said, cutting him off. "It's nothing special. It's nothing I can't already find.", Erik said. Chris opened his mouth to protest but Erik put his hand up. " Like Mickey Extreme, ZMac,and Adam Young, you live in a fantasy world. The sooner you get out of it...the better off you will be...Just like them.", Erik said.
Chris was taken back by the comments. He didn't appreciate any of it. Jason was just staring at the both of them. He felt the tension and loved it. It felt like a fight was coming.
Chris grabbed his folder, which included a flash drive and ran out. Erik grinned to himself before pulling out his cell phone. "White haired guy. The one who looks like Ben Franklin. Make sure he doesn't make it to his car. Yea..the basement would be fine and make sure the flash drive isn't damaged", Erik said before hanging up the phone.
"Who was that?", Jason asked.
Erik tried to act like he didn't hear, but decided to let Cash in on information he didn't know.
"There is more to ZT than you think.", was all Erik said
It was about that time that the steaks arrived. Jason's fresh beers arrived. Erik cringed at the thought of the waitress speaking to him. " Here are like, your foods", she said. Erik cringed just as he thought he would, but she was quite the looker..."maybe if iI tape her mouth shut...".
He picked up his knife, already thinking about the headlines for tomorrows paper. " Two more missing persons and still no leads.", Erik thought to himself.
They stuck around for a bit after enjoying the steaks. Jason had drank around ten beers and was piss drunk. Erik paid and then grabbed the waitress by the arm. "You don't work here anymore.", he said as he escorted her out of the building. Our hillbilly hero followed them out.
Erik opened the door to his car and let the waitress in. Jason, who was watching it all remembered something. Erik had been married for years.
"What the shit're you doin?! You a damn married man!", Jason said..his words sliding.
Erik grinned. "Oh this isn't for that.", he said.
Jason opened his mouth but Erik Black quickly silenced him. "My house..tonight. I have a job for you.".
Erik got into his car and drove off leaving Jason with his beat up old truck.
Jason got himself a dip and spit on the ground, barely missing the valet driver's foot. The driver was a young man. Probably in his twenties. He was appalled. Jason noticed the look on his face and only gave him the ole one finger salute when the kid asked for a tip.
Cash opened a beer and turned on his radio. "Hillbilly Deluxe" by brooks and Dunn played on the radio.
"We told yall sumbitches, didnt we? We told yall ignorant sumbitches we was brangin hell. And did we? Why hell yea. We walked into wssf's ultimate showdown and beat wholesale ass and walked out. Let that mess sank in a little bit. Yall prolly thought we was lyin...Hell most people do that mess when they come round. We don't. When ZT says we gone beat that ass.. Then we gone beat that ass. We gone stomp a sumbitchin mudhole in that ass. We gone walk that sumbitch dry. This week?"
Jason spit in his bottle before smiling.
"Oh this week we got a damn champion. A sumbitch what might be one of the baddest sumbitches round wssf. I'm talkin bout Zombie McMorris. The coked out madman himself. A wsssf legend. Know what I say bout that? Damn that shit. That's what I say bout that mess. I dont give two shits an a squirt of piss what that sumbitch thanks he got. Why? Cause he ain't got shit. He ain't got a Crazy J. He ain't got a crazy chink.
Now I'm one to give credit where credit is due. This sumbitch has done it all. Ain't a damn thang in this business he ain't done. Oglf course it took that sumbitch forever ta damn do it. Know what that mess means? Hell son...That mess means he's older than hell. Hell this sumbitch is prolly older than hanky panky. I reckon they got alot in common. Both old sumbitches what gone get that ass handed to em by ZT. It was Hanky Panky an company last week. It's damn walkin dead this week. Next week? Who the hell knows. All I know is this mess. That sumbitch can go crazy..shout somethin bout humpin a badger...and get that ass whooped.
Oh he ain't the only sumbitch. This is a sumbitchin tag match after all. We love tag matches. It gives us a chance ta work as a damn team. Get a bucha crazy sumbitches what likes damn fight in the same ring? Lookout. I reckon yall drew the short straw."
9pm
Jason Cash's truck stopped with a bang. Smoke filled the air. He'd pulled into Erik Black's driveway.
Erik lived in what was basically a castle. There was an outer wall, and inner wall and then the massive home itself.
He stumbled out of the truck, beer in hand and stood there staring at the huge wooden doors. He'd never been to Erik's house before. He'd never seen anything like it. That could have been the reason for the dumbfounded look on his face. It could have also been the alcohol.
He knocked on the door. It slowly opened. A Mexican woman opened the door. She looked like a sweet old lady who spoke no English at all.
She didnt say a word to Jason. Our hero himself was in awe. Everything was white and very clean. On the walls hung huge pictures and replicas of the championships Erik had won.
He spit in hid bottle but spilled a bit on the white carpet. Jason rarely poured out the bottle.
"Holy hell."
She led him down a long hallway and then down a winding staircase.
"please just let us go", came a scream
Jason wondered just what in the shit was going on. He took a big drink of his beer and walked on.
At the bottom of the staircase stood Erik Black. He wore a black suit and held a glass of vodka. To his right was an mma cage. To his left sat the waitress from earlier in the day and Chris Harrold.
"The hell is this mess?", he asked, looking at Erik. He then looked at the maid. "You know bout all this", he asked her.
She walked away, acting like..or maybe she wasn't, like she didnt understand him
"I see your confusion. Allow me to explain.", Erik said as he motioned to their guest who were blind folded.
"I'm listenin."
Erik nodded and said, " business is hell. Sometimes you have to be...ruthless to get what you want."
He pointed to the chubby man who looked like Ben Franklin. " Take Chris here. He has something I want. He didnt want to give it to me..So now he needs to be taught a lesson.", Erik Black said flatly.
Jason smile a big smile before turning up his beer and breaking it over Chris Harrold's head. Glass went everywhere as blood started pouring from the wound. Jason smiled even bigger. He was drunk and wanted a fight.
"And that's exactly why you're here, Jason. That cage over there? Well, I have offered something to Chris here", Erik started.
He walked over to Chris and grabbed his shoulder. He got a bit of blood on his hand but didnt seem to mind.
"If he beats a man of my choice in a fight, he walks free. If he loses? Well, I get what I want", he finished.
Jason took his hat off and scratched his head. "I still dont get this mess. The hell you call my ass here fer?", our hillbilly hero asked as he spit into his bottle.
Erik grabbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He sighed. "You will get the pleasure of beating the ever loving shit out of him. That's why you're here.", he said with a sigh.
Jason didnt seem to hear. He was much too busy looking for beer. He'd drank his last one you see.
He'd wandered over to a small refrigerator. Opened the door and looked inside. There was nothing inside but water.
"Where the hell is the sumbitchin beer?"Jason asked as he stopped looking.
"Did you even hear a word I said?", Erik asked. Jason shook his head. " I reckoned you were goin on bout money an shit.", Our hero said with a grin.
Erik sighed and shook his head. "In the fridge to the right.", he said. Jason glanced to his right. And there, exactly where Erik had said it was, sat a second tiny fridge. Jason reached in and grabbed a beer.
And so Erik explained what he needed again. Jason still didnt understand exactly why he was there which was evident by the dumbfounded look on his face. Erik took the hint and led Jason to the mma cage.
Chris Harrold was already in there, blood running down his face. Erik took a drink of his beer, grinned and hit Harrold with a hard right hand. Harrold fell on his ass.
" You gone fight back?", Jason asked as Harrold tried to get up. The smaller man slowly got to his feet. Jason hit him again. And again, Harrold fell.
"Look sumbitch. This ain't no damn fun if you don't damn it fight back"
Again the smaller man got up. This time, however, he hit our hero in the stomach. Did it faze him? Not really. Jason only smiled and nodded his head. Chris Harrold hit him again and again. Still didnt faze Cash. Hell, Cash didn't stop drinking his beer.
Finally, Jason turned up the beer and tossed it out of the cage. Glass shattered on the white carpet. Erik was not happy.
Jason then proceeded to beat the holy hell out of Chris Harrold. And in the end, the man was left laying in a pool of blood.
Erik opened the door and stepped in. He gave a fresh beer to pur hero and walked over to Chris Harrold. Harrold put a hand up, but Erik kicks it out of the way and stepped on his neck.
Outside of the cage, Jason Cash sat on a bar drinking his beer. He took off his cowboys and reached inside. He pulled out that old handicam and pointed it to his face.
"Well hey yall", he started.
"Please help me", came a females voice. Cash stopped what he was doing.
"I ain't the sumbitch you should be talkin to".
He looked back into his handicam.
"Now as I was sayin before I was rudely interrupted by what looks ta be a fine price of ass.
Zero damn Tolerance walked into wssf and didn't what we said we was gone do. We beat that damn chink till he couldn't damn it walk. Did the same ta gladiator what aint got no arena and hank panky. This time? Oh this time we get ta beat the holy hell outs Walkin dead, Mickey mouse and some young kid. We done told yall..we ain't olayin no damn games. We don't do that mess. Hell naw. We men of our word. We say we gone beat that ass..then we gone beat that ass."
He took a drink of his new beer. It wasn't his brand, but beer is beer and he'd drink any of it.
"I reckon walkin dead likes ta damn fight. I watched that sumbitch. He crazy in there man. That sumbitch'll do just about any sumbitchin thang. And the fact of the matter is that this sumbitch'd need ta do that mess ta beat any of us. Hell I dont even thank that sumbitch got what it takes. Now..I know he done beat the hell outs some tough sumbitches round here in wsssf. But know what he ain't ever done? Go head...Ill wait."
Our hero spit in his bottle while trying to ignore the pleas for help.
"Done? Naw? Too damn bad. That walkin dead sumbitch ain't ever whooped any of us. Hell that sumbitch ain't never seen sumbitches like us. Hell this sumbitch just thanks he been in some wars. He ain't never been in a real war..war against ZT. That's a real sumbitchin war. That's a life changin experience.
Hell I know that sumbitch thanks he crazy in that damn ring. He ain't crazy enough. Him sayin that mess round here in wssf is like sayin yer the tallest midget. It don't mean a dsmn thang. You can talk bout humpin that sumbitchin badger and bitches all ya want. Do that mess till ya can't talk no damn more. Cause son...you gotta come at us like yer the third monkey in line gettin on noahs ark. You gotta come at us like yer bout ta die...and then you might...maybe..possibly have a sumbitchin chance. If ya dont? Well hell son, I dont thank I need ta say. I reckon I'm sayin that you ain't crazy. Ya only thank yer crazy. You gotta get a whole lot more crazy if ya wanna take down ZT. I dont thank yer a daisy at all. I dont thank ya got it in ya.
Hell I know alot of sumbitches in wssf'd say I'm wrong. They'd say you a big bad sumbitch what dont give a damn. Thang is....Me too. Hell son, I love ta damn fight. The tougher the sumbitch what tryin ta take my ass down the better. I hate goin up against pissy little sumbitch what scared ta get in there and get hit in the face. Me? I like ta get piss drunk, get myself a dip and beat ass. I only get better when ya try fightin back. You can take that mess as a warnin. Of course you wont listen it it. You thank yer this tough, crazy fightin sumbitch. You might thank yer that mess but yer really just a dumb sumbitch what been hit on the head too damn hard. You ain't got nothin I ain't already seen. You ain't got nothin any of us ain't already seen. We done seen it all. You ain't got a damn thang fer us ta worry bout. Not a sumbitchin thang. Ya like drugs..bitch..and I reckon you got a badger or two ya like ta hump cause you don't "give a fuck". We comin fer ya"
He took another drink just as Erik Black walked over. He looked at Jason kind of weird. He saw a camera but he didn't see a red light
"You know that camera isn't on, right?", Erik asked. Jason looked at him. " I pushed that power button.", Jason said. He looked. There were no lights on . Jason had never even turned it on.
Our hero wondered when it had stopped working. Erik could only walk away. Our hero had had way too much to drink.
"Jason, you need to leave that camera alone and focus on your match. You guys won, but you have an even bigger test this week.", Erik started but was cut off by Cash.
" What the hell do ya thank i was doin?", Cash said with a grin. " I know who we got. I know whose ass we kickin this week.", he finished. Well, I say finished but Erik cut him off. " Adam Young could be dangerous.",Erik said, eyeing the still tied up waitress. Jason shook his head.
"Shit naw. Ain't a damn thang ever come from Texas but steers an", Jason started to say.
"Never underestimate them, Jason.",Erik said. " Well..I dont see no damn horns", Jason said with a,laugh. "You know what that mess means!", He added, laughing even harder.
Erik found none of this funny. He was a serious man. Always had been. "That's perty damn funny. He ain't got no horns!", Jason yelled again, laughing harder than before. Erik rolled his eyes. "Go to your hotel. You have an interview in the morning", he said.
Jason left, but it was still early, sp our hillbilly hero found himself at a bar.
The place was packed. There were people wall to wall, but sitting at the bar was our hero. He had a few beer bottles in front of him that the bartender hadn't clean up yet.
He'd just ordered another beer when a taller blonde guy wearing a confederate flag shirt sat down next to him. He looked kind of familiar to Jason.
"Adam Young! We gone beat her ass!"
The guy turned his head to Jason. "Excuse me?", he asked. Jason stuck his finger in the mans face. "Adam Young! I said..we...gone..beat...yer...asd", he said, his words slurring.
The blonde guy, who was obviously not Adam Young ignored Jason as next he could.
"You ain't got shit! ZT I gonna walk a sumbitchin mudhole in that ass"
The guy ignored him.
" I know you sumbitchin hear me! You just tryin ta not get scared. I dont damn blame ya neither. We can be some scary sumbitches", Jason said.
By now tho man was quite pissed off. He turned to Jason and said, "I dont know who this Adam Young person is. I'm not him. My name is Ray. I would appreciate it if you'd leave me alone".
Jason laughed at the thought. "I still don't see no horns!", he said. Ray turned back to Jason. He was getting more and more annoyed. "Excuse me?", he asked. Jason winked at him. " You from Texas, right? Well ain't nothin ever came outs Texas but steers an", Jason started but was hit in the jaw.
The punch damn near knocked Jason off the stool. Instead, he turned his beer up, broke it over Ray's head. After, he grabbed each previous bottle and did the same. Ray fell to the floor in a lump. Jason got up and started kicking the fallen man in the stomach.
"What's yo name boy!", Our hero yelled.
Adam Yo" Ray started to say. Jason stopped. " Yer name is Ray. The hell wrong with you boy?", he said, laughing again.
Before you could say "Fuck this shit", our hero was being thrown into the dark night, his face bounced off the pavement with a thud.
Jason got up rubbing his face. " You tell Adam Young we ain't damn it done yet!", Cash yelled.
Now, Jason has always been an in control drunk. He never forgot anything. He never blacked out. This night? Hell, this night Jason forgot his truck and had to walk back to his hotel.
" Adam Young. Man from Texas what ain't got no horns. I reckon yall know what that mess means.
Now this is a sumbitch what thanks he's big shit just cause he done beat a hall of fame..a champion. Hell man...I beat hall of gamers. I beat champions. Who in the hell ain't never did that? I done beat the holy hell outs a couple hall of famers. I done beat the hell outs a couple champions. I could name em all. I could list them sumbitches and talk bout who they whooped. I wont. Know why? Cause it don't damn it matter. It don't matter what you done fore this match. What matters is that ya ain't good enough. Ya ain't got it. Ya full of bitch. That's what matter. I can see that mess in yer eyes. I can hear it in yer voice. You ain't tough. You ain't no daisy.
Way I see it.. You the weak link. Mikey and walkin dead are full a bitch..but you? Son you over flowin with it. Yer cup runeth overeth over with bitcheth."
Our hero stumbled down the street, getting odd looks from the locals.
"That mess piss you off? That mess get you all riled up? It don't matter cause ain't a damn thang you can do bout it. Sure yer ass can show up ta wssf slam thankin yer gonna take some aggression out. But are ya really? Hell naw. Reason is what I already done said. Yer too much of a bitch. I feel perty damn bad fer yer team. They can't damn win already. Throw a piss ant like yerself in the mix and mess just gets worse. You an embarrassment to any sumbitch what come from the south. Ya embarrass us all. And that why ZT is gonna beat yer ass. Cause we can..and we will."
He rounded a corner, almost knocking a homeless guy over.
" Mikey Extreme. Nice name. Coverin up fer somethin. That one of them " I need a tough soundin name cause I'm a scardy cat little punk" then you have a thought. " Oh..Ill call myself extreme! That'll learn em!'. Bad thang is..it ain't a tough name. It sounds like the name of a punk bitch. Nother bad thang is ..It ain't make yer ass no tougher. Yer still nothin more than a dingleberry hangin from a shaggy dogs ass. Hell maybe worse.
But you got that sumbitchin super kick. That scary rasslin move what can't no damn body else in this world ever dream of doin.... Get outa here with that shit. I can do a damn superkick. It ain't hard ta do. It ain't nothin special. Oh sure yer ass might just be able ta do it mighty hard...but the thang is.. This mess ain't about how hard ya hit..its bout how hard ya get hit and keep whoopin ass. Yea that's from Rocky. Got a problem with it?
Now..I reckon by this point, yer scratchin yer head cause...Well..ya look like a winder licker. So Ill explain more.
You....aint...shit...if...ya..cant....take...a punch....er kick... Makes sense? Of course. Well..maybe not ta yer ass. Yer all about that sumbitchin superkick. What you gone do when you kick one of us in the face and we grin? Huh? Maybe missin a couple teeth but smilin all the same. What yer ass gone do then? I'll tell ya. Yer ass gone run an hide behind walkin dead. That's what yer ass gone do. All ya gots that damn kick. It ain't work...Yer ass is toast son. Burnt toast."
Jason continued his stumbling walk, stopping only to get himself a dip.
"We came ta wssf with one idea. That sumbitchin idea is ownin wsssf. And we done started. Wsssf ain't never seen a damn thang like Zero Tolerance. They ain't never ever seen a group of sumbitches what can do what we do. We all champions somewhere. We all legends. Hell ZT done shut rasslin places down. Wssf is next. Yall can brang in the troops. Yall can throw the baddest sumbitches at us yall want to. Wont change the outcome. In the end, ZT dominates.
This week we got walkin dead, Mickey mouse and a kid. Next week? Who know? Who gives two shits? I dont. I'll beat the holy hell outs whoever gets put in my damn way. Who that is dont make a damn ta me. Dont make a damn to my partners either.
Walkin dead...mickey mouse...kid? Yall in fer a rude awakenin. Ta this point..Walkin Dead ain't never seen a sumbitch what crazier than his self. This week? Hell that sumbitch sees three. Mickey mouse? Errr..Extreme? He gone find his self without somethin ta damn hide behind. And the young kid? The one from Texas? Hell....he gets that ass handed to him on a regular damn basis. Ain't a damn thang changed fer that sumbitch. I reckon its just new people doin it."
He'd walked a decent distance. It had to have been a few miles. But finally, the hotel was in the distance.
"I reckon what Im tryin ta say is..sorry bout y'all's damn luck."
And he continued his stumble too his hotel
Jason, himself, had a beer in hand and a dip in his mouth when he opened the door.
"Big ugly!", Jason yelled as he burst into the room, opening the door so hard that it banged on the wall.
While the noise would startle anyone else, it didn't startle Jaymz. Oh no. It only pissed the massive man off.
"Cash", Jaymz said in a growling voice that seemed much deeper than it should. His eyes began to turn black. A tattoo on his at seemed to shift. The room began to shake.
Did this all bother our hillbilly hero? Of course not. Nothing really scared him. This should have though.
Now, Jaymz had always hated Jason Cash. He'd hated Cash from the very beginning. Maybe it was Cash's brash nature. Or maybe it was the super kick.
You see, when Jason Cash first entered the wrestling business, he made an announcement that he was going to get after the "biggest dog in the yard" and well..at seven feet tall, that would be Jaymz. So that night, while Jaymz walked backstage, Jason spit tobacco in his face and superkicked him. Jaymz has hated Cash since then. He didn't even want the man in ZT but was out voted.
The room shook, but Cash only smiled a big ole smile and drank his beer. It would have been wise to run from the man who was destined to rule Hell, but Cash was never the brightest bulb.
"Now that's the mean sumbitch I remember. The hell you doing sitting behind a desk anyway?", Cash asked as he walked in from the doorway.
Jaymz took a huge step forward, throwing the desk to the side with ease. The big man grinned. The windows shattered, causing air to rush in with the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach. Still, Jason walked in. The building shook as the mortal Jaymz lost control of the immortal beast within.
Erik Black came rushing into the room after guessing what was going on. There were rarely earth quakes here after all.
"Cash. Get in my office now!", he yelled as he grabbed Jason by his dirty white shirt. Jason stumbled backwards.
Erik could only shake his head at Cash's huge grin. "What the fuck were you thinking?", Erik asked.
Cash could only shrug his shoulders and ask, "What do ya mean?".
Erik put his head down and shook it. "You understand that Jaymz has powers, right?, he started.
Jason nodded.
"Then why the hell did you stay?", Erik asked. Jason took off his cowboy hat and scratched his head. "Well I reckon its because I ain't scared of a sumbitch walkin Gods green earth. I'll fight anybody.", was Jason Cash's answer.
Erik could only stand there shaking his head. Jaymz was not one to be messed with. He was dangerous..very dangerous.
"Look. I'll talk to Jaymz. This has to stop. You guys are pissing him off way too much.", Erik said as he straightened his suit. "You're having lunch with me. It's a business meeting so wear something nice."
Jaymz blinked. His eyes returned to normal and the building stopped shaking. He looked around wondering what had happened. The he saw Cash being pulled from the room. It was then that he guessed he'd lost control of the beast.
"One day....hes mine.", Jaymz heard a voice in his head say.
1pm
Erik sat at a corner table in a rather crowded restaurant. He was dressed in his usual black Armani suit and didn't look happy at all. It could have been the waitress. She was your typical "valley girl" type. You know, the ones who say " like totally" with every sentence. Erik hated those types. Or it could be the man who sat accross from him. Or it could have been the fact that Jason Cash showed up, not in attire suitable for a business meeting. No, Cash wore ripped jeans and boots. Atleast he had on a button up shirt. It was stained and wrinkled though.
Chris Harrold was a short, overweight man with a haircut that would make him popular in the seventeen hundreds. It was long and white, tied into a ponytail. Erik loathed the man, which was evident by the look on his face, but he would listen to any business proposition. He never read a book by its cover after all.
Chris was something of a hacker. He'd created a new security software that could revolutionize the IT industry and needed a bit of funding. And that's where Erik came in.
" Damn shame, man", Chris said as he put a newspaper down on the table. " Another missing person. I hope like hell they find the this one", he added as he looked over the appetizers. The missing person in question was a blonde kid who used to work for ZT "They'll never find the body.", Erik said matter of factly. Chris was a bit shocked. "How do you know?, he asked. Erik could only smile that smile that is so familiar. This caught Jason's attention. You see, he'd been guzzling beer and staring at the waitresses..even the valley girl typed one. He thought she was, as Jason put it.." A mighty fine price of ass".
Jason looked at Erik. "They'll never find the damn body? How in the hell do you know?", he asked. Erik shot him a look. It was a look that confused our hero. Did Erik have something to do with it? Jason Cash didnt know
It didn't seem to affect Chris, as he dug into the stuffed mushrooms in front of him. "So hows the wrestling business treating you?", Chris asked. Erik looked at him flatly. "I'm retired. We've been over this already. Cash has taken my place in the ring.", Erik answered. He clearly just wanted to get the lunch meeting over and leave. And so Chris asked Jason the question.
By this point, Jason had his feet propped on the table. He put his beer down and sat up. He'd never been to a business meeting before and didn't really expect to be asked anything, so it took him by surprise.
"Well..I whoop wholesale ass. Just this past week, Crazy J ,Shep, Kira and me beat the holy hell out of an old man and a sumbitchin chink.", he started but was cut off.
"Down to business.", Erik said just as the waitress came back. Your meals will be out soon. Like can I get anything for you in the mean time?", she said. Erik adjusted his tie, clearly annoyed. Jason gave her his three empty beer bottles
Chris slid Erik a folder. Erik opened the folder and looked over the documents inside. He didn't seem happy with what he saw. " So you think this will revolutionize the industry?", Erik asked. Chris quickly nodded. " Just as much as Zero Tolerance revolutionized the wrestling business.", Chris answered. Erik doubted that. And he had good reason. ZT made the biggest jobber train harder to become as good as they are.
"It starts with a one hundred twenty eight bit", he started. "Encryption....I know", Erik said, cutting him off. "It's nothing special. It's nothing I can't already find.", Erik said. Chris opened his mouth to protest but Erik put his hand up. " Like Mickey Extreme, ZMac,and Adam Young, you live in a fantasy world. The sooner you get out of it...the better off you will be...Just like them.", Erik said.
Chris was taken back by the comments. He didn't appreciate any of it. Jason was just staring at the both of them. He felt the tension and loved it. It felt like a fight was coming.
Chris grabbed his folder, which included a flash drive and ran out. Erik grinned to himself before pulling out his cell phone. "White haired guy. The one who looks like Ben Franklin. Make sure he doesn't make it to his car. Yea..the basement would be fine and make sure the flash drive isn't damaged", Erik said before hanging up the phone.
"Who was that?", Jason asked.
Erik tried to act like he didn't hear, but decided to let Cash in on information he didn't know.
"There is more to ZT than you think.", was all Erik said
It was about that time that the steaks arrived. Jason's fresh beers arrived. Erik cringed at the thought of the waitress speaking to him. " Here are like, your foods", she said. Erik cringed just as he thought he would, but she was quite the looker..."maybe if iI tape her mouth shut...".
He picked up his knife, already thinking about the headlines for tomorrows paper. " Two more missing persons and still no leads.", Erik thought to himself.
They stuck around for a bit after enjoying the steaks. Jason had drank around ten beers and was piss drunk. Erik paid and then grabbed the waitress by the arm. "You don't work here anymore.", he said as he escorted her out of the building. Our hillbilly hero followed them out.
Erik opened the door to his car and let the waitress in. Jason, who was watching it all remembered something. Erik had been married for years.
"What the shit're you doin?! You a damn married man!", Jason said..his words sliding.
Erik grinned. "Oh this isn't for that.", he said.
Jason opened his mouth but Erik Black quickly silenced him. "My house..tonight. I have a job for you.".
Erik got into his car and drove off leaving Jason with his beat up old truck.
Jason got himself a dip and spit on the ground, barely missing the valet driver's foot. The driver was a young man. Probably in his twenties. He was appalled. Jason noticed the look on his face and only gave him the ole one finger salute when the kid asked for a tip.
Cash opened a beer and turned on his radio. "Hillbilly Deluxe" by brooks and Dunn played on the radio.
"We told yall sumbitches, didnt we? We told yall ignorant sumbitches we was brangin hell. And did we? Why hell yea. We walked into wssf's ultimate showdown and beat wholesale ass and walked out. Let that mess sank in a little bit. Yall prolly thought we was lyin...Hell most people do that mess when they come round. We don't. When ZT says we gone beat that ass.. Then we gone beat that ass. We gone stomp a sumbitchin mudhole in that ass. We gone walk that sumbitch dry. This week?"
Jason spit in his bottle before smiling.
"Oh this week we got a damn champion. A sumbitch what might be one of the baddest sumbitches round wssf. I'm talkin bout Zombie McMorris. The coked out madman himself. A wsssf legend. Know what I say bout that? Damn that shit. That's what I say bout that mess. I dont give two shits an a squirt of piss what that sumbitch thanks he got. Why? Cause he ain't got shit. He ain't got a Crazy J. He ain't got a crazy chink.
Now I'm one to give credit where credit is due. This sumbitch has done it all. Ain't a damn thang in this business he ain't done. Oglf course it took that sumbitch forever ta damn do it. Know what that mess means? Hell son...That mess means he's older than hell. Hell this sumbitch is prolly older than hanky panky. I reckon they got alot in common. Both old sumbitches what gone get that ass handed to em by ZT. It was Hanky Panky an company last week. It's damn walkin dead this week. Next week? Who the hell knows. All I know is this mess. That sumbitch can go crazy..shout somethin bout humpin a badger...and get that ass whooped.
Oh he ain't the only sumbitch. This is a sumbitchin tag match after all. We love tag matches. It gives us a chance ta work as a damn team. Get a bucha crazy sumbitches what likes damn fight in the same ring? Lookout. I reckon yall drew the short straw."
9pm
Jason Cash's truck stopped with a bang. Smoke filled the air. He'd pulled into Erik Black's driveway.
Erik lived in what was basically a castle. There was an outer wall, and inner wall and then the massive home itself.
He stumbled out of the truck, beer in hand and stood there staring at the huge wooden doors. He'd never been to Erik's house before. He'd never seen anything like it. That could have been the reason for the dumbfounded look on his face. It could have also been the alcohol.
He knocked on the door. It slowly opened. A Mexican woman opened the door. She looked like a sweet old lady who spoke no English at all.
She didnt say a word to Jason. Our hero himself was in awe. Everything was white and very clean. On the walls hung huge pictures and replicas of the championships Erik had won.
He spit in hid bottle but spilled a bit on the white carpet. Jason rarely poured out the bottle.
"Holy hell."
She led him down a long hallway and then down a winding staircase.
"please just let us go", came a scream
Jason wondered just what in the shit was going on. He took a big drink of his beer and walked on.
At the bottom of the staircase stood Erik Black. He wore a black suit and held a glass of vodka. To his right was an mma cage. To his left sat the waitress from earlier in the day and Chris Harrold.
"The hell is this mess?", he asked, looking at Erik. He then looked at the maid. "You know bout all this", he asked her.
She walked away, acting like..or maybe she wasn't, like she didnt understand him
"I see your confusion. Allow me to explain.", Erik said as he motioned to their guest who were blind folded.
"I'm listenin."
Erik nodded and said, " business is hell. Sometimes you have to be...ruthless to get what you want."
He pointed to the chubby man who looked like Ben Franklin. " Take Chris here. He has something I want. He didnt want to give it to me..So now he needs to be taught a lesson.", Erik Black said flatly.
Jason smile a big smile before turning up his beer and breaking it over Chris Harrold's head. Glass went everywhere as blood started pouring from the wound. Jason smiled even bigger. He was drunk and wanted a fight.
"And that's exactly why you're here, Jason. That cage over there? Well, I have offered something to Chris here", Erik started.
He walked over to Chris and grabbed his shoulder. He got a bit of blood on his hand but didnt seem to mind.
"If he beats a man of my choice in a fight, he walks free. If he loses? Well, I get what I want", he finished.
Jason took his hat off and scratched his head. "I still dont get this mess. The hell you call my ass here fer?", our hillbilly hero asked as he spit into his bottle.
Erik grabbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He sighed. "You will get the pleasure of beating the ever loving shit out of him. That's why you're here.", he said with a sigh.
Jason didnt seem to hear. He was much too busy looking for beer. He'd drank his last one you see.
He'd wandered over to a small refrigerator. Opened the door and looked inside. There was nothing inside but water.
"Where the hell is the sumbitchin beer?"Jason asked as he stopped looking.
"Did you even hear a word I said?", Erik asked. Jason shook his head. " I reckoned you were goin on bout money an shit.", Our hero said with a grin.
Erik sighed and shook his head. "In the fridge to the right.", he said. Jason glanced to his right. And there, exactly where Erik had said it was, sat a second tiny fridge. Jason reached in and grabbed a beer.
And so Erik explained what he needed again. Jason still didnt understand exactly why he was there which was evident by the dumbfounded look on his face. Erik took the hint and led Jason to the mma cage.
Chris Harrold was already in there, blood running down his face. Erik took a drink of his beer, grinned and hit Harrold with a hard right hand. Harrold fell on his ass.
" You gone fight back?", Jason asked as Harrold tried to get up. The smaller man slowly got to his feet. Jason hit him again. And again, Harrold fell.
"Look sumbitch. This ain't no damn fun if you don't damn it fight back"
Again the smaller man got up. This time, however, he hit our hero in the stomach. Did it faze him? Not really. Jason only smiled and nodded his head. Chris Harrold hit him again and again. Still didnt faze Cash. Hell, Cash didn't stop drinking his beer.
Finally, Jason turned up the beer and tossed it out of the cage. Glass shattered on the white carpet. Erik was not happy.
Jason then proceeded to beat the holy hell out of Chris Harrold. And in the end, the man was left laying in a pool of blood.
Erik opened the door and stepped in. He gave a fresh beer to pur hero and walked over to Chris Harrold. Harrold put a hand up, but Erik kicks it out of the way and stepped on his neck.
Outside of the cage, Jason Cash sat on a bar drinking his beer. He took off his cowboys and reached inside. He pulled out that old handicam and pointed it to his face.
"Well hey yall", he started.
"Please help me", came a females voice. Cash stopped what he was doing.
"I ain't the sumbitch you should be talkin to".
He looked back into his handicam.
"Now as I was sayin before I was rudely interrupted by what looks ta be a fine price of ass.
Zero damn Tolerance walked into wssf and didn't what we said we was gone do. We beat that damn chink till he couldn't damn it walk. Did the same ta gladiator what aint got no arena and hank panky. This time? Oh this time we get ta beat the holy hell outs Walkin dead, Mickey mouse and some young kid. We done told yall..we ain't olayin no damn games. We don't do that mess. Hell naw. We men of our word. We say we gone beat that ass..then we gone beat that ass."
He took a drink of his new beer. It wasn't his brand, but beer is beer and he'd drink any of it.
"I reckon walkin dead likes ta damn fight. I watched that sumbitch. He crazy in there man. That sumbitch'll do just about any sumbitchin thang. And the fact of the matter is that this sumbitch'd need ta do that mess ta beat any of us. Hell I dont even thank that sumbitch got what it takes. Now..I know he done beat the hell outs some tough sumbitches round here in wsssf. But know what he ain't ever done? Go head...Ill wait."
Our hero spit in his bottle while trying to ignore the pleas for help.
"Done? Naw? Too damn bad. That walkin dead sumbitch ain't ever whooped any of us. Hell that sumbitch ain't never seen sumbitches like us. Hell this sumbitch just thanks he been in some wars. He ain't never been in a real war..war against ZT. That's a real sumbitchin war. That's a life changin experience.
Hell I know that sumbitch thanks he crazy in that damn ring. He ain't crazy enough. Him sayin that mess round here in wssf is like sayin yer the tallest midget. It don't mean a dsmn thang. You can talk bout humpin that sumbitchin badger and bitches all ya want. Do that mess till ya can't talk no damn more. Cause son...you gotta come at us like yer the third monkey in line gettin on noahs ark. You gotta come at us like yer bout ta die...and then you might...maybe..possibly have a sumbitchin chance. If ya dont? Well hell son, I dont thank I need ta say. I reckon I'm sayin that you ain't crazy. Ya only thank yer crazy. You gotta get a whole lot more crazy if ya wanna take down ZT. I dont thank yer a daisy at all. I dont thank ya got it in ya.
Hell I know alot of sumbitches in wssf'd say I'm wrong. They'd say you a big bad sumbitch what dont give a damn. Thang is....Me too. Hell son, I love ta damn fight. The tougher the sumbitch what tryin ta take my ass down the better. I hate goin up against pissy little sumbitch what scared ta get in there and get hit in the face. Me? I like ta get piss drunk, get myself a dip and beat ass. I only get better when ya try fightin back. You can take that mess as a warnin. Of course you wont listen it it. You thank yer this tough, crazy fightin sumbitch. You might thank yer that mess but yer really just a dumb sumbitch what been hit on the head too damn hard. You ain't got nothin I ain't already seen. You ain't got nothin any of us ain't already seen. We done seen it all. You ain't got a damn thang fer us ta worry bout. Not a sumbitchin thang. Ya like drugs..bitch..and I reckon you got a badger or two ya like ta hump cause you don't "give a fuck". We comin fer ya"
He took another drink just as Erik Black walked over. He looked at Jason kind of weird. He saw a camera but he didn't see a red light
"You know that camera isn't on, right?", Erik asked. Jason looked at him. " I pushed that power button.", Jason said. He looked. There were no lights on . Jason had never even turned it on.
Our hero wondered when it had stopped working. Erik could only walk away. Our hero had had way too much to drink.
"Jason, you need to leave that camera alone and focus on your match. You guys won, but you have an even bigger test this week.", Erik started but was cut off by Cash.
" What the hell do ya thank i was doin?", Cash said with a grin. " I know who we got. I know whose ass we kickin this week.", he finished. Well, I say finished but Erik cut him off. " Adam Young could be dangerous.",Erik said, eyeing the still tied up waitress. Jason shook his head.
"Shit naw. Ain't a damn thang ever come from Texas but steers an", Jason started to say.
"Never underestimate them, Jason.",Erik said. " Well..I dont see no damn horns", Jason said with a,laugh. "You know what that mess means!", He added, laughing even harder.
Erik found none of this funny. He was a serious man. Always had been. "That's perty damn funny. He ain't got no horns!", Jason yelled again, laughing harder than before. Erik rolled his eyes. "Go to your hotel. You have an interview in the morning", he said.
Jason left, but it was still early, sp our hillbilly hero found himself at a bar.
The place was packed. There were people wall to wall, but sitting at the bar was our hero. He had a few beer bottles in front of him that the bartender hadn't clean up yet.
He'd just ordered another beer when a taller blonde guy wearing a confederate flag shirt sat down next to him. He looked kind of familiar to Jason.
"Adam Young! We gone beat her ass!"
The guy turned his head to Jason. "Excuse me?", he asked. Jason stuck his finger in the mans face. "Adam Young! I said..we...gone..beat...yer...asd", he said, his words slurring.
The blonde guy, who was obviously not Adam Young ignored Jason as next he could.
"You ain't got shit! ZT I gonna walk a sumbitchin mudhole in that ass"
The guy ignored him.
" I know you sumbitchin hear me! You just tryin ta not get scared. I dont damn blame ya neither. We can be some scary sumbitches", Jason said.
By now tho man was quite pissed off. He turned to Jason and said, "I dont know who this Adam Young person is. I'm not him. My name is Ray. I would appreciate it if you'd leave me alone".
Jason laughed at the thought. "I still don't see no horns!", he said. Ray turned back to Jason. He was getting more and more annoyed. "Excuse me?", he asked. Jason winked at him. " You from Texas, right? Well ain't nothin ever came outs Texas but steers an", Jason started but was hit in the jaw.
The punch damn near knocked Jason off the stool. Instead, he turned his beer up, broke it over Ray's head. After, he grabbed each previous bottle and did the same. Ray fell to the floor in a lump. Jason got up and started kicking the fallen man in the stomach.
"What's yo name boy!", Our hero yelled.
Adam Yo" Ray started to say. Jason stopped. " Yer name is Ray. The hell wrong with you boy?", he said, laughing again.
Before you could say "Fuck this shit", our hero was being thrown into the dark night, his face bounced off the pavement with a thud.
Jason got up rubbing his face. " You tell Adam Young we ain't damn it done yet!", Cash yelled.
Now, Jason has always been an in control drunk. He never forgot anything. He never blacked out. This night? Hell, this night Jason forgot his truck and had to walk back to his hotel.
" Adam Young. Man from Texas what ain't got no horns. I reckon yall know what that mess means.
Now this is a sumbitch what thanks he's big shit just cause he done beat a hall of fame..a champion. Hell man...I beat hall of gamers. I beat champions. Who in the hell ain't never did that? I done beat the holy hell outs a couple hall of famers. I done beat the hell outs a couple champions. I could name em all. I could list them sumbitches and talk bout who they whooped. I wont. Know why? Cause it don't damn it matter. It don't matter what you done fore this match. What matters is that ya ain't good enough. Ya ain't got it. Ya full of bitch. That's what matter. I can see that mess in yer eyes. I can hear it in yer voice. You ain't tough. You ain't no daisy.
Way I see it.. You the weak link. Mikey and walkin dead are full a bitch..but you? Son you over flowin with it. Yer cup runeth overeth over with bitcheth."
Our hero stumbled down the street, getting odd looks from the locals.
"That mess piss you off? That mess get you all riled up? It don't matter cause ain't a damn thang you can do bout it. Sure yer ass can show up ta wssf slam thankin yer gonna take some aggression out. But are ya really? Hell naw. Reason is what I already done said. Yer too much of a bitch. I feel perty damn bad fer yer team. They can't damn win already. Throw a piss ant like yerself in the mix and mess just gets worse. You an embarrassment to any sumbitch what come from the south. Ya embarrass us all. And that why ZT is gonna beat yer ass. Cause we can..and we will."
He rounded a corner, almost knocking a homeless guy over.
" Mikey Extreme. Nice name. Coverin up fer somethin. That one of them " I need a tough soundin name cause I'm a scardy cat little punk" then you have a thought. " Oh..Ill call myself extreme! That'll learn em!'. Bad thang is..it ain't a tough name. It sounds like the name of a punk bitch. Nother bad thang is ..It ain't make yer ass no tougher. Yer still nothin more than a dingleberry hangin from a shaggy dogs ass. Hell maybe worse.
But you got that sumbitchin super kick. That scary rasslin move what can't no damn body else in this world ever dream of doin.... Get outa here with that shit. I can do a damn superkick. It ain't hard ta do. It ain't nothin special. Oh sure yer ass might just be able ta do it mighty hard...but the thang is.. This mess ain't about how hard ya hit..its bout how hard ya get hit and keep whoopin ass. Yea that's from Rocky. Got a problem with it?
Now..I reckon by this point, yer scratchin yer head cause...Well..ya look like a winder licker. So Ill explain more.
You....aint...shit...if...ya..cant....take...a punch....er kick... Makes sense? Of course. Well..maybe not ta yer ass. Yer all about that sumbitchin superkick. What you gone do when you kick one of us in the face and we grin? Huh? Maybe missin a couple teeth but smilin all the same. What yer ass gone do then? I'll tell ya. Yer ass gone run an hide behind walkin dead. That's what yer ass gone do. All ya gots that damn kick. It ain't work...Yer ass is toast son. Burnt toast."
Jason continued his stumbling walk, stopping only to get himself a dip.
"We came ta wssf with one idea. That sumbitchin idea is ownin wsssf. And we done started. Wsssf ain't never seen a damn thang like Zero Tolerance. They ain't never ever seen a group of sumbitches what can do what we do. We all champions somewhere. We all legends. Hell ZT done shut rasslin places down. Wssf is next. Yall can brang in the troops. Yall can throw the baddest sumbitches at us yall want to. Wont change the outcome. In the end, ZT dominates.
This week we got walkin dead, Mickey mouse and a kid. Next week? Who know? Who gives two shits? I dont. I'll beat the holy hell outs whoever gets put in my damn way. Who that is dont make a damn ta me. Dont make a damn to my partners either.
Walkin dead...mickey mouse...kid? Yall in fer a rude awakenin. Ta this point..Walkin Dead ain't never seen a sumbitch what crazier than his self. This week? Hell that sumbitch sees three. Mickey mouse? Errr..Extreme? He gone find his self without somethin ta damn hide behind. And the young kid? The one from Texas? Hell....he gets that ass handed to him on a regular damn basis. Ain't a damn thang changed fer that sumbitch. I reckon its just new people doin it."
He'd walked a decent distance. It had to have been a few miles. But finally, the hotel was in the distance.
"I reckon what Im tryin ta say is..sorry bout y'all's damn luck."
And he continued his stumble too his hotel
