Post by jasoncash on Aug 13, 2016 10:27:37 GMT -5
"Dont you damn it touch her!", our hero yelled across the crowded, Smokey bar.
Jason had found himself at the Smoking Bicuit. It was a run down shack of a bar. Jason Cash visited the place quite often. He'd been banned for life from the place several times for fighting, yet the guy who owned the joint kept inviting him back.
On this particular night, our hero had been drinking heavily while playing pool. Pool was one of his favorite hobbies. It was a game, yet still gave him his favorite weapons...the cue ball.
He was running the table and having himself a good ole time when he saw it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a biker slap his wife across her face. He lost his mind.
Now, our hillbilly hero was always brought up to never raise a hand against a woman. His dad always told him that real men never hit a woman and that he should always stop the asshat who did. So imagine what went through his head when he saw this.
Now, the bike was Bart Bradshaw. He was a big, nasty looking man. And I dont mean nasty as in mean. No, Bart looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. He had long grey hair and wore a leather jacket. Some have said that Bart I a Hells Angel. Most were scared of him..but not our hero.
A hush fell over the Smokey bar. And when I say Smokey, I mean it. One could barely see two feet inn front of his face.
All eyes went to Jason, who had stopped quickly and walked over to Bart with the cue ball in his hand.
"The hell gives yer ass the sumbitchin right ta hit a damn woman?", Jason asked, spitting tobacco in Barts direction.
Did Bart back down? Nope. He stood his ground, chin up and smiling. The crowd parted ways like the red sea, making room for Jason.
" You gone answer me? Or are you gone stand there with at stupid look on yer face?"
Bart grabbed his beer, took a drink and then grabbed his woman. She wasn't a looking by any means, but Bart thought if her as his. And so Bart stood there. No one had ever confronted him before, so what worry should he have had? Everyone was scared of him after all.
"Well, I reckon its gone be that way then.", Jason said, tightening his grip on the ball.
He threw that ball at Barts face before either of them could even blink, catching him right on the bridge of the nose. Bart fell, clutching at his nose. Jason followed up with a few kicks to the teeth.
It was about that time when the bounces, Earl and BJ finally ran over. Earl, a big ok boy that had to weigh around three hundred pounds grabbed Jason from behind, nearly picking him up off the ground. BJ had the dangerous end. He wasn't really cut out for it, being toothpick thin and all. But together, they almost managed to get Jason under control.
Of course they didnt fully have him, Jason was still kicking Bart in the teeth. BJ latched on with a bear hug. He screamed in pain and kicked. Jason fell to the floor holding his balls.
Jason's face landed on the gravel parking lot with a thud. " And stay out!", he heard Earl's voice yell.
Jason checked to make sure he still had all his teeth. He was relieved to find them all there. He noticed blue lights surrounding him.
"Ole Barney. The hell you doinhere?", Jason asked with a laugh.
He got up to see the old, short, fat man who he knew so well. "Barney" didnt take things very kindly. He grabbed Jason the collar of his white ZT shirt.
"You under arrest boy.", barney said. Jason looked surprised. "The hell for?", Jason asked. Barney shook his fat head. " Drunk in public.", Barney said.
Jason, who was going along with it, stopped dead in his tracks. " Drunk in public? Hell I wanted ta be drunk in the bar. They threw my ass inta public.", Jason said with a laugh. Ole Barney hid a smile. " That's a Ron White joke.", Barney said.
"Yea but that mess fits. They sexially assualted me and threw my ass inta public. I wanna press charges.", Jason said. Barney thought for a minute. " Sexual assault? How in the world?", Barney asked.
Jason pointed to his still sore balls. "That sumbitch touched me in my no no place.", Jason said, still laughing. Barney could only rub his temple. " They kicked you in the balls while you were trying to bite BJs right ear off.", he said. Jason nodded. " Uhh..yea! He did that mess with his sumbitchin foot. I wanna press some damn charges.", Jason laughed.
The deputy had had enough. "It don't matter, you're gointo jail for drunk in public. And assault.", he said. Jason's mouth dropped. " Assault? How in the hell didI assault any damn body?", Jason asked.
Barney stopped walking. " You were kicking Bart in his teeth", Barney said. Jason grinned. "Only cause I kept missin that sumbitchs throat.", he said.
"Barney gave him a warning type look. Jason took the hint and threw his hands up. "Hands up dont shoot!", Jason started to yell. "Barney " was shocked. He grabbed Jason's arms and tried to put them at Jason's side. " I aint gonna shoot ya. Stop yellin that shit.", Barney said. Jason busted out laughing. " Only cause you ain't got but one damn bullet. Andy dont trust ya with no more!", he yelled in "Barney's" face, laughing even harder than before.
So while Jason was laughing and distracted, Barney put him in the squad car and drove off.
Later that night...
Jason sat alone in the cell. It was rather dark. It was cold. It was damp. It was everything you'd expect a country jail cell to be. Ole Barney was walking away with Jason's handicam, flipping it as he walked. He turned around and noticed that Jason was playing around with another one. So he stopped and went back into the cell. He put his hand out. Our hero took the hint and handed the handicam to the deputy.
And so Barney started walking away when he hear another noise. Jason had another handicam. " What the...Do I even wanna know?", Barney asked. Jason laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't understand.
And so our hero was left alone in the dark cell to think about what he'd done. Now, Jason Cash was never a deep thinker, so he played with his handicam. He pressed the power button, making sure the red light was on and blinking. He then moved the camera around the room. Of course it was shakey and moved too fast to really see anything.
"And this is where I get ta spend the night. Ole Barney aint never arrested me before. I reckon callin him out fer only havin one bullet got to 'im. But that mess dont matter", Jason started.
He pointed the camera to his face, still blurry like always.
" Ya see me frownin? Mopin? Hell naw. Jason John Cash dont do that mess.", he said with a big ole grin.
" Sides, we walked into wsssf slam and laid waste to another group of sumbitches what though they was tough. Walkin dead? Dead in the sumbitchin water. Mickey Mouse? Didnt show he had a damn thang. Young? Welll...he still aint got no damn horns.",Jason said as he got up from the bench.
Be walked around the cell, giving the fans a view of just how tiny it was.
"We damn it told yall we aint olayin no games, didnt we? ZT is a force ta be reckoned with. We do what we say we gone do. This week? Oh this week we got a diseased sumbitch, a damn nazi and a midget. Startin of a damn good joke, huh? Well I reckon it is. But what can I say...when it comes to what ZT can do?...Yer all sumbitchin jokes. Ya just aint got it. Whatever in the hell it is..yall aint damn got it. We gone whoop y'all's asses just like we done whooped every damn body else's", He said, words slurring into the extremely shakey camera.
The red light shut off. Luckily for him, Cash noticed it this time.
His ears perked up. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. They were especially loud due to the jail being empty..well..mostly empty.
Jason walked to the bars and tried looking down the hallway. " You comin back ta let my ass out?", he called. There was no answer. " Oh shit..Andy lettin ya use that one sumbitchin bullet?", he laughed. There was no answer still.
" Hands up don't shoot!", Cash yelled with a laugh.
" What the fuck did you do this time?", came a familiar voice.
Erik Black came down the hall. He wore a black suit and didn't look happy. He had a blank stare on his face, which was never good.
Erik was having a rough time. It was his job to keep ZT in order. He managed the books. He handled the lawyers. He ran the various businesses. Of course he'd murder to get what he wants and what's best for ZT, but he needed to keep media attention away from ZT. With the three members of ZT he had to deal with, it was very hard. Salem was schizophrenic and usually caused a scene wherever he went. Crazy J is just as crazy and now he had Jason Cash and his drunken antics to deal with. He thought things were rough when he was cleaning up after Jaymz and Crazy J. Things were worse for him now. He once thought about returning to the ring.
Jason was quite excited when he saw it was Erik Black. He ignored the look Erik shot him. If looks could kill, our hillbilly hero soul now be dead.
"Boy you a sight fer sore eyes!", Jason yelled. Erik simply stared at him. "Do you know what I had to do to get you out of here?", Erik asked. Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I had to take out the entire sheriffs department. They wont be out long, so we have to leave.", Erik said as he unlocked the cell door.
"The hell you do?", Jason asked. Erik ignored him. The two walked to the lobby where there were unconscious bodies everywhere. " Whaaaa?", Jason asked. Again, Erik ignored him.
Jason didnt need to actually get an answer. Erik Black was a dangerous man. He was trained by the Gracie family in Brazil. He could do things most people couldn't do.
The two walked out to Erik's black BMW. Jason got a chew. " You gotta bottle?", He asked. Erik shook his head. "Spit it out.", he said. Jason ignored him and got into the car. " I'll swaller then.", he said. The car pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the night.
About an hour or so later, when the moon was full and casting shadows through the trees, the black BMW pulled up to a small, metallic looking trailer. The car stopped. Erik looked at Jason.
"This is your stop."
Jason looked at Erik with his head cocked to the side. He didn't understand.
"Your buddy Bart lives here..", Erik said. Jason still only stared. Erik sighed. "The only way to stop those charges is to end his life.", Erik said.
Jason grinned and got out of his car. Erik stopped him. "You have a plane to catch in the morning. Meeting at headquarters. You guys have caused too much trouble.", he said. Jason nodded. Erik didn't know if Jason actually heard him or not. But he drove off anyway.
Bart Bradshaw lived in a tiny trailer. It was one of those trailers you often see being pulled by a truck on family vacations. It was run down, barely standing and surrounded by trees.
Jason stood outside of the trailer and howled. "Fast as fast can be. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man.", he yelled. He scratched his head. That wasn't right. So he howled again. " little pig little pig in gonna blow yer sumbitchin house down!", he yelled.there was no answer, so he yelled it again. This Tim, the light turned on. He heard stomps. The door opened. Jason smiled a big ole smile.
Out stepped Bart. His nose was tape and he still had gauze in his mouth. He ripped it out. " You got alot of nerve comin here", he said.
Jason tipped his cowboy hat. "Just checkin on the town bitch..wonderin if you need another ass whoopin.", our hero said with a grin. Bart slicked his greasy hair back and charged. Jason simply stepped aside and pushed Bart down on his face. Bart fell in the dirt. He screeched as he'd hit his nose.
He got up. Jason had found an old motorcycle muffler in a junk pile. He hit Bart in the face with it so hard that it bent. Bart fell. Jason hit him over and over again until Bart stopped moving. He was barely breathing when Jason opened the door to the trailer. " You got some beer?", he asked
He exited mot long after, empty handed except for his handicam. There was no light blinking.
"Wsssfff! ZT owns you. How many sumbitches we done whooped? I can't damn count but I reckon its more 'an five. We only had two sumbitchin matches and we done whooped more than five sumbitchs asses. That's gotta be some kinda record. It has ta damn be. Aint no other group of sumbitches ever done what we done. Hell we took out a couple main eventers. They wasn't shit."
Jason stopped and fumbled in his pocket for his Skoal can. He got a dip and spit.
"A homeless diseased looking sumbitch, a nazi an a midget walk into a bar. Well..the midget walked under. But dont thank that midget made it. Hell naw..that sumbitch ran into ZT and got his ass whooped. He got his midget ass mudhole stomped an walked dry. Least that's what's gone damn happen at wssfff slam. All three of em walkin onto a damn loss.
Hell tho week its Plaque. Aint that..like...gum disease? Holy hell were fightin gingivitis this week. I done heard bout yer ass. And you bet that I brush and flosh. I also use Listerine. That's some rough mess. Burns my whole damn mouth. I reckon I'm gone have ta brang a bottle of that mess. Throw a little bit on ya. Watch yer ole ass fo screamin an runnin away."
He spit, getting some on his ZT shirt and whiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Then we got a damn nazi from Germany. Or is he from shitsburgh? Damn! He's a nazi Yankee. Worst of both sumbitchin worlds. I can't stand a damn nazi and I hate Yankees even worse. Yea..I had my wife read yer bio. I dint read good y'see. And when she got done, I asked. I asked her..I said baby..Do I hate him? And you know what that crazy woman said? She said no. You don't even know him. And I looked at her..I looked an her and told that there just somethin bout ya that makes me just wanna slap the shit out of ya. And then I found out why. You a damn nazi Yankee. And my wife was wrong. I hate ya. I hate ya hard. So since I hate ya. We gone beat yer ass first. We gone shove ours boots up yer poop shoot till them sumbitches knee deep in asshole. Then we gone beat ya up. Son...you walk round wsssf like a you own the joint. Hell..you aint even the best damn fighter on yer team, son. I'd say yer the weak link but..hey..least you aint a damn midget. You got that mess goin fer ya. Be mighty sad if you was a nazi Yankee midget. Hell then Id just step on ya."
Jason laughed so hard he almost swallowed his chew..which would have been bad for everybody. Nobody wants to see a grown man puke. Or do they? You sick sons a bitches.
"Speakin of pee see the wonder midget. How in the hell you gone even get in the damn ring? You the only sumbitch I ever done seen what needs a damn ladder ta walk up steps. I see that mess now. Ya come out carryin a ladder. Ya set that sumbitch up. Ya flex. Ya climb the ladder up the first step. The ya pull the ladder up and set that sumbitch up again. So ya climb up it..and so on until ya get in that sumbitchin rang. Ya put that ladder down...and yer whole damn world goes dark. That sumbitch goes dark cause we done got tired of waitin on yer midget ass ta get in the damnrang that we just knock yer ass out and go find a real sumbitchin fight.".
The next morning.....
Jason was tired...dead tired. He looked like the walking dead as he stood there in the long line at Jackson Medgar Evers names too fucking long airport. He still had on his ZT shirt, pants and cowboy hat from the night before. He had a big, blue bag in his right hand. The line was long. He'd already been waiting for an hour or so and there was no end in sight. He'd been noticed by fans who'd asked for his autograph. Jason graciously signed each and every one.
Since he was noticed by fans, he was also noticed by TSA agents. He'd gotten to skip the line. He was chatting it up with a female agent who was a huge fan about how much he hates nazis when he put his bag through the scanner. And his bag had set it off.
"Me. Cash, could you step to the side? We need to check your bag.", the female agent told him. He listened without arguing. He like her. She was a beautiful chocktaw woman with blue eyes, which was weird for an Indian..but it made her look more beautiful.
She opened the bag. And the very first thing she saw..took her breathe away. There on the very top was a bullet vibrator. It was silver.
"Mr. Cash. Why do you have this?", she asked. Jason smiled a big, proud smile. "Well..that Dildo Kaine's brother. Silver bullet.", he answered. He then picked it up and turned it on. "Hell Im just gettin them two back together. I reckon they twins cause his little brother here looks just like 'im.", he said.
The agent laughed as Jason " walked" the vibrator back into the bag. "You know that Kaine is a person and this is an inanimate object, right?", she asked. Jason scratched his head.
" The hell is inanimate?", he asked as he scratched his head. " Midgets aint people neither. 'Sides. They look almost identical. He's small..callin himself the silver bullet. And while this thang here's bigger, they still brothers.", Jason laughed.
The agent stopped laughing but still smiled. "Well..You be careful.", she said.
Jason noticed the stares coming from everyone around him. " Im just tryin ta get two brothers back damn together!", he said, obviously offended.
It wasn't long after that Jason found himself on the plane from Jackson to Calofornia where ZT headquarters is.
He found himself sitting next to a rather old lady. She had to be at least ninety. She was a frail looking old lady. Jason thought she was sick but didn't want to say anything.
He took put his handicam just after sitting down. The flight attendant came over to say something but noticed that it wasn't on. Jason noticed her looking and grinned. " If I wasn't married, I'd be joinin the mile high club today", he said to the old lady. She smiled creepily at him. Was Jason creeper out? You bet your ass he was.
He looked into the camer on his lap.
" Gingivitis. I see you got some gold. Yer a champion. Yer gonna be the second champ ZT done took out. Y'know that? The second one and we ain't been here but fer a month. That mess is crazy. We that damn baddass
Now..I noticed you got a little follerin. And I gotta scratch my head as to why. Yer gum disease..plaque.. So why in the blue hell is anybody gonna join yer cult. And that's when it hit me. Yer cult is chock full of toothless winder lickers what got a grudge against teeth and all people who have teeth. The brotherhood of the plaque. I dont damn it understand why they'd think that mess..maybe they just like eatin through straws. Me? Hell I love a juicy steak. That's why I floss. .You ain't gettin my teeth, Plaque."
The old lady next to him looked at him oddly. She noticed that there was no light, but didn't want to say anything.
"Then I really messed up. Y'see...I spent a day all hopped up on redbull and couldn't damn it sleep. So I turn on my tv..and there ya are. Big time promo video from The Plaque. So I watched that sumbitch. And it put me right ta sleep. Y'see. Ya got no character. Ya got no damn charisma. It was like watchin a retard tryin ta damn talk. Just dry...borin as hell. Ya talkin in a mo otone voice like you a damn robot. No emotion. Hell son, I wanted ta be entertained....and that mess put my ass ta sleep. And that brangs me to another question. How in the world you got a cult when ya got no damn personality? Huh? I reckon them winder licker'll do any damn thang.
But that don't matter much. What matters I yer rang stuff. And that mess aint much better. Ya borin as hell in the sumbitchin rang as ya are in yer pissy little videos. Ya half ass every damn thang. You thank yer gonna half ass a damn fight against ZT and win? Hell son, you could come at us with every damn thang ya got and get yer ass handed to ya. That's just how badass we are. It only makes that mess worse on you. You can either fight like a sumbitchin man and get yer ass stomped..or you can half ass it and get that sumbitch walked dry too. It don't matter ta us. We gone whoop ass either way. And boy...we gone whoop wholesale ass this week. When the best of the bunch aint worth two shits and a bucket of piss, you know yer in fer trouble. Hell if I was you? I'd run away. But I ain't you. I'm a sumbitchin fighter."
The old lady asked Jason if he could use any help and pointed to the camera, which was near his crotch. Jason ignored her.
"Yankee Nazi. Dobt you damn it thank I done fergot bout yer ass....cause I ain't. Yer the one sumbitch I damn hate. I feel sorry fer plaque and that midget. Plaque lost his damn mind a while back saw and Dildo Damian Kaine misses his long lost brother. Luckily, I'm brangin 'im with me. But you? Hell yer people killed thousands of Jews. What in the hell yall got against Jews anyway. Sumbitchin Jew man does my taxes. I love that sumbitch. Couldn't do it without 'im. Now..I know they tight wads and got some kinda jew magic...but ya aint gotta damn killem by the thousands. Hell son it aint none of yer damn business what kinda magic they got. I reckon yall was just jealous of it. Can't blame ya there though. If I could pull gold out my ass, I'd prolly do it. But that aint no reason ta killem.
Yall nazis are dirty..ruthless. Atleast 'fore ya get in the rang. In that rang? You ain't worth a damn. Sure ya might whoop a couple ole weak sumbitches. How could ya not? Some folks can't whoop their own ass much less somebody else's. You? Son yer barely over that. You mighta seen alot when you was killin Jews...but you ain't never seen a damn thang like Zero Tolerance. I guarantee that mess. Hell wsssff aint never seen a damn thang like us."
He was beginning to get odd looks. He ignored them as best he could..especially the old lady to his right.
"Now I seen you at that other rasslin place. Ya got mad and beat a sumbitch up. Congrats on that. Least ya got ta whoop somebody's ass 'fore ZT gets ya. Maybe make ya feel good bout yerself. Get yer hopes up. Get ya ta thankin ya got what it takes. Ya dont. Ya ain't got shit. Ya ain't gotta pot to piss in when it comes ta fightin Zero Tolerance. Now..I know yer a nazi and a Yankee. Ya prolly dont damn it know what I mean by that. Well...it means ya ain't got a damn chance. It means we gone treat you like yall treated them Jews. We ain't gone gas ya....in the rang anyway. But we sure nuff gone shove our boots up yer ass and treat ya like a damn puppet. I see that mess now. Knee deep in asshole movin our legs round makin ya dance. Kinda gross but that aint the damn point. The point is we gone brang yer ass down a notch. Make ya understand you ain't got what it damn takes..cause ya dont. Ya piss poor in the rang...even when yer all angry..pissed off cause ya prolly got a small Weiner and yer ole lady brangs the silver bullet over when yer gone. Damn shame...damn shame.
And then theres the midget himself. Dildo kaine. The silver bullet. Pee wee the wonder midget. Look. I know yer pissed off. Ya miss yer brother. You ain't seen that sumbitch in years. Welp...I gotta surprise for ya. I got that sumbitch in my bag. I'm gone reunite yer ass with 'im. That make mess better fer ya? No? Small man syndrome? Dont know what that mess feels like. Mines bigger than you are.
Now what I dont get is what exactly yer place in all this is. Hell yer ass gotta brang a damn ladder just ta get up the steps. You too damn little ta do much. I reckon that's why ya keep gettin yer ass handed to ya. I get it. Gotta chip on yer shoulder. Wanna be bigger so you can whoop some ass. That aint a damn option son! You ain't gettin no damn bigger. You ain't gettin no damn stronger. I'd say yer full of bitch but can't be much there. I mean..I reckon you can scare Shep. That sumbitch scared ta damn death of midgets. That mans terrified of yall midget sumbitches. He'll still whoop that ass though. You can count on that mess.
Now I had my wife read yer bio to me. You do a superkick? How in the hell you even do that mess? Yer too damn short ta hit anybody over six foot tall with it. Hell I don't even see one redeeming thang about ya. Least Plaque has his brotherhood of toothless basterds. Baron least took out some new magic. You? Yer just a damn midget. The hell you brangin? Nothing. Not a damn thang. That's what. Hell this sumbitch might be over 'fore ya get in the damn rang"
And he dropped the camera. He reached down and couldn't pick it up. The old lady offered but our hero quickly said no.
...hours later...
Jason Cash threw open the door to Erik's office. "Who's ready ta party?!", he yelled. Jaymz's eyes began to turn black. Our hero wasn't bothered at all as he Ko stepped into the all white office.
The room started to shake as Jason stepped in. He looked to his left were Salem Sheppard sat on the white couch. He didn't exactly look at that great. His skin was pale.
"How in the hell are yall doin?. We got some beer ovar?", he asked, not worrying about the fact that the building was shaking.
Now, normally Erik would have stepped in but there was a kiddy pool sitting right in the middle of his office. He kept muttering Crazy J's name.
Jason walked over to Shep, who was sitting on the couch, wide eyed. Jason walked over and slapped him on the chest. "Wake up!", our hero yelled. Salem turned his face toward Jason.
"I'm freaking the fuck out man. Are his eyes black?", he asked. Jason nodded. " Yup. Sumbitch got a demon in him er some shit.".
Suddenly, Jaymz's eyes returned to normal as Crazy J stepped in....
Jason had found himself at the Smoking Bicuit. It was a run down shack of a bar. Jason Cash visited the place quite often. He'd been banned for life from the place several times for fighting, yet the guy who owned the joint kept inviting him back.
On this particular night, our hero had been drinking heavily while playing pool. Pool was one of his favorite hobbies. It was a game, yet still gave him his favorite weapons...the cue ball.
He was running the table and having himself a good ole time when he saw it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a biker slap his wife across her face. He lost his mind.
Now, our hillbilly hero was always brought up to never raise a hand against a woman. His dad always told him that real men never hit a woman and that he should always stop the asshat who did. So imagine what went through his head when he saw this.
Now, the bike was Bart Bradshaw. He was a big, nasty looking man. And I dont mean nasty as in mean. No, Bart looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks. He had long grey hair and wore a leather jacket. Some have said that Bart I a Hells Angel. Most were scared of him..but not our hero.
A hush fell over the Smokey bar. And when I say Smokey, I mean it. One could barely see two feet inn front of his face.
All eyes went to Jason, who had stopped quickly and walked over to Bart with the cue ball in his hand.
"The hell gives yer ass the sumbitchin right ta hit a damn woman?", Jason asked, spitting tobacco in Barts direction.
Did Bart back down? Nope. He stood his ground, chin up and smiling. The crowd parted ways like the red sea, making room for Jason.
" You gone answer me? Or are you gone stand there with at stupid look on yer face?"
Bart grabbed his beer, took a drink and then grabbed his woman. She wasn't a looking by any means, but Bart thought if her as his. And so Bart stood there. No one had ever confronted him before, so what worry should he have had? Everyone was scared of him after all.
"Well, I reckon its gone be that way then.", Jason said, tightening his grip on the ball.
He threw that ball at Barts face before either of them could even blink, catching him right on the bridge of the nose. Bart fell, clutching at his nose. Jason followed up with a few kicks to the teeth.
It was about that time when the bounces, Earl and BJ finally ran over. Earl, a big ok boy that had to weigh around three hundred pounds grabbed Jason from behind, nearly picking him up off the ground. BJ had the dangerous end. He wasn't really cut out for it, being toothpick thin and all. But together, they almost managed to get Jason under control.
Of course they didnt fully have him, Jason was still kicking Bart in the teeth. BJ latched on with a bear hug. He screamed in pain and kicked. Jason fell to the floor holding his balls.
Jason's face landed on the gravel parking lot with a thud. " And stay out!", he heard Earl's voice yell.
Jason checked to make sure he still had all his teeth. He was relieved to find them all there. He noticed blue lights surrounding him.
"Ole Barney. The hell you doinhere?", Jason asked with a laugh.
He got up to see the old, short, fat man who he knew so well. "Barney" didnt take things very kindly. He grabbed Jason the collar of his white ZT shirt.
"You under arrest boy.", barney said. Jason looked surprised. "The hell for?", Jason asked. Barney shook his fat head. " Drunk in public.", Barney said.
Jason, who was going along with it, stopped dead in his tracks. " Drunk in public? Hell I wanted ta be drunk in the bar. They threw my ass inta public.", Jason said with a laugh. Ole Barney hid a smile. " That's a Ron White joke.", Barney said.
"Yea but that mess fits. They sexially assualted me and threw my ass inta public. I wanna press charges.", Jason said. Barney thought for a minute. " Sexual assault? How in the world?", Barney asked.
Jason pointed to his still sore balls. "That sumbitch touched me in my no no place.", Jason said, still laughing. Barney could only rub his temple. " They kicked you in the balls while you were trying to bite BJs right ear off.", he said. Jason nodded. " Uhh..yea! He did that mess with his sumbitchin foot. I wanna press some damn charges.", Jason laughed.
The deputy had had enough. "It don't matter, you're gointo jail for drunk in public. And assault.", he said. Jason's mouth dropped. " Assault? How in the hell didI assault any damn body?", Jason asked.
Barney stopped walking. " You were kicking Bart in his teeth", Barney said. Jason grinned. "Only cause I kept missin that sumbitchs throat.", he said.
"Barney gave him a warning type look. Jason took the hint and threw his hands up. "Hands up dont shoot!", Jason started to yell. "Barney " was shocked. He grabbed Jason's arms and tried to put them at Jason's side. " I aint gonna shoot ya. Stop yellin that shit.", Barney said. Jason busted out laughing. " Only cause you ain't got but one damn bullet. Andy dont trust ya with no more!", he yelled in "Barney's" face, laughing even harder than before.
So while Jason was laughing and distracted, Barney put him in the squad car and drove off.
Later that night...
Jason sat alone in the cell. It was rather dark. It was cold. It was damp. It was everything you'd expect a country jail cell to be. Ole Barney was walking away with Jason's handicam, flipping it as he walked. He turned around and noticed that Jason was playing around with another one. So he stopped and went back into the cell. He put his hand out. Our hero took the hint and handed the handicam to the deputy.
And so Barney started walking away when he hear another noise. Jason had another handicam. " What the...Do I even wanna know?", Barney asked. Jason laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if he didn't understand.
And so our hero was left alone in the dark cell to think about what he'd done. Now, Jason Cash was never a deep thinker, so he played with his handicam. He pressed the power button, making sure the red light was on and blinking. He then moved the camera around the room. Of course it was shakey and moved too fast to really see anything.
"And this is where I get ta spend the night. Ole Barney aint never arrested me before. I reckon callin him out fer only havin one bullet got to 'im. But that mess dont matter", Jason started.
He pointed the camera to his face, still blurry like always.
" Ya see me frownin? Mopin? Hell naw. Jason John Cash dont do that mess.", he said with a big ole grin.
" Sides, we walked into wsssf slam and laid waste to another group of sumbitches what though they was tough. Walkin dead? Dead in the sumbitchin water. Mickey Mouse? Didnt show he had a damn thang. Young? Welll...he still aint got no damn horns.",Jason said as he got up from the bench.
Be walked around the cell, giving the fans a view of just how tiny it was.
"We damn it told yall we aint olayin no games, didnt we? ZT is a force ta be reckoned with. We do what we say we gone do. This week? Oh this week we got a diseased sumbitch, a damn nazi and a midget. Startin of a damn good joke, huh? Well I reckon it is. But what can I say...when it comes to what ZT can do?...Yer all sumbitchin jokes. Ya just aint got it. Whatever in the hell it is..yall aint damn got it. We gone whoop y'all's asses just like we done whooped every damn body else's", He said, words slurring into the extremely shakey camera.
The red light shut off. Luckily for him, Cash noticed it this time.
His ears perked up. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. They were especially loud due to the jail being empty..well..mostly empty.
Jason walked to the bars and tried looking down the hallway. " You comin back ta let my ass out?", he called. There was no answer. " Oh shit..Andy lettin ya use that one sumbitchin bullet?", he laughed. There was no answer still.
" Hands up don't shoot!", Cash yelled with a laugh.
" What the fuck did you do this time?", came a familiar voice.
Erik Black came down the hall. He wore a black suit and didn't look happy. He had a blank stare on his face, which was never good.
Erik was having a rough time. It was his job to keep ZT in order. He managed the books. He handled the lawyers. He ran the various businesses. Of course he'd murder to get what he wants and what's best for ZT, but he needed to keep media attention away from ZT. With the three members of ZT he had to deal with, it was very hard. Salem was schizophrenic and usually caused a scene wherever he went. Crazy J is just as crazy and now he had Jason Cash and his drunken antics to deal with. He thought things were rough when he was cleaning up after Jaymz and Crazy J. Things were worse for him now. He once thought about returning to the ring.
Jason was quite excited when he saw it was Erik Black. He ignored the look Erik shot him. If looks could kill, our hillbilly hero soul now be dead.
"Boy you a sight fer sore eyes!", Jason yelled. Erik simply stared at him. "Do you know what I had to do to get you out of here?", Erik asked. Jason shrugged his shoulders. "I had to take out the entire sheriffs department. They wont be out long, so we have to leave.", Erik said as he unlocked the cell door.
"The hell you do?", Jason asked. Erik ignored him. The two walked to the lobby where there were unconscious bodies everywhere. " Whaaaa?", Jason asked. Again, Erik ignored him.
Jason didnt need to actually get an answer. Erik Black was a dangerous man. He was trained by the Gracie family in Brazil. He could do things most people couldn't do.
The two walked out to Erik's black BMW. Jason got a chew. " You gotta bottle?", He asked. Erik shook his head. "Spit it out.", he said. Jason ignored him and got into the car. " I'll swaller then.", he said. The car pulled out of the parking lot and drove off into the night.
About an hour or so later, when the moon was full and casting shadows through the trees, the black BMW pulled up to a small, metallic looking trailer. The car stopped. Erik looked at Jason.
"This is your stop."
Jason looked at Erik with his head cocked to the side. He didn't understand.
"Your buddy Bart lives here..", Erik said. Jason still only stared. Erik sighed. "The only way to stop those charges is to end his life.", Erik said.
Jason grinned and got out of his car. Erik stopped him. "You have a plane to catch in the morning. Meeting at headquarters. You guys have caused too much trouble.", he said. Jason nodded. Erik didn't know if Jason actually heard him or not. But he drove off anyway.
Bart Bradshaw lived in a tiny trailer. It was one of those trailers you often see being pulled by a truck on family vacations. It was run down, barely standing and surrounded by trees.
Jason stood outside of the trailer and howled. "Fast as fast can be. You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man.", he yelled. He scratched his head. That wasn't right. So he howled again. " little pig little pig in gonna blow yer sumbitchin house down!", he yelled.there was no answer, so he yelled it again. This Tim, the light turned on. He heard stomps. The door opened. Jason smiled a big ole smile.
Out stepped Bart. His nose was tape and he still had gauze in his mouth. He ripped it out. " You got alot of nerve comin here", he said.
Jason tipped his cowboy hat. "Just checkin on the town bitch..wonderin if you need another ass whoopin.", our hero said with a grin. Bart slicked his greasy hair back and charged. Jason simply stepped aside and pushed Bart down on his face. Bart fell in the dirt. He screeched as he'd hit his nose.
He got up. Jason had found an old motorcycle muffler in a junk pile. He hit Bart in the face with it so hard that it bent. Bart fell. Jason hit him over and over again until Bart stopped moving. He was barely breathing when Jason opened the door to the trailer. " You got some beer?", he asked
He exited mot long after, empty handed except for his handicam. There was no light blinking.
"Wsssfff! ZT owns you. How many sumbitches we done whooped? I can't damn count but I reckon its more 'an five. We only had two sumbitchin matches and we done whooped more than five sumbitchs asses. That's gotta be some kinda record. It has ta damn be. Aint no other group of sumbitches ever done what we done. Hell we took out a couple main eventers. They wasn't shit."
Jason stopped and fumbled in his pocket for his Skoal can. He got a dip and spit.
"A homeless diseased looking sumbitch, a nazi an a midget walk into a bar. Well..the midget walked under. But dont thank that midget made it. Hell naw..that sumbitch ran into ZT and got his ass whooped. He got his midget ass mudhole stomped an walked dry. Least that's what's gone damn happen at wssfff slam. All three of em walkin onto a damn loss.
Hell tho week its Plaque. Aint that..like...gum disease? Holy hell were fightin gingivitis this week. I done heard bout yer ass. And you bet that I brush and flosh. I also use Listerine. That's some rough mess. Burns my whole damn mouth. I reckon I'm gone have ta brang a bottle of that mess. Throw a little bit on ya. Watch yer ole ass fo screamin an runnin away."
He spit, getting some on his ZT shirt and whiped his mouth with his sleeve.
"Then we got a damn nazi from Germany. Or is he from shitsburgh? Damn! He's a nazi Yankee. Worst of both sumbitchin worlds. I can't stand a damn nazi and I hate Yankees even worse. Yea..I had my wife read yer bio. I dint read good y'see. And when she got done, I asked. I asked her..I said baby..Do I hate him? And you know what that crazy woman said? She said no. You don't even know him. And I looked at her..I looked an her and told that there just somethin bout ya that makes me just wanna slap the shit out of ya. And then I found out why. You a damn nazi Yankee. And my wife was wrong. I hate ya. I hate ya hard. So since I hate ya. We gone beat yer ass first. We gone shove ours boots up yer poop shoot till them sumbitches knee deep in asshole. Then we gone beat ya up. Son...you walk round wsssf like a you own the joint. Hell..you aint even the best damn fighter on yer team, son. I'd say yer the weak link but..hey..least you aint a damn midget. You got that mess goin fer ya. Be mighty sad if you was a nazi Yankee midget. Hell then Id just step on ya."
Jason laughed so hard he almost swallowed his chew..which would have been bad for everybody. Nobody wants to see a grown man puke. Or do they? You sick sons a bitches.
"Speakin of pee see the wonder midget. How in the hell you gone even get in the damn ring? You the only sumbitch I ever done seen what needs a damn ladder ta walk up steps. I see that mess now. Ya come out carryin a ladder. Ya set that sumbitch up. Ya flex. Ya climb the ladder up the first step. The ya pull the ladder up and set that sumbitch up again. So ya climb up it..and so on until ya get in that sumbitchin rang. Ya put that ladder down...and yer whole damn world goes dark. That sumbitch goes dark cause we done got tired of waitin on yer midget ass ta get in the damnrang that we just knock yer ass out and go find a real sumbitchin fight.".
The next morning.....
Jason was tired...dead tired. He looked like the walking dead as he stood there in the long line at Jackson Medgar Evers names too fucking long airport. He still had on his ZT shirt, pants and cowboy hat from the night before. He had a big, blue bag in his right hand. The line was long. He'd already been waiting for an hour or so and there was no end in sight. He'd been noticed by fans who'd asked for his autograph. Jason graciously signed each and every one.
Since he was noticed by fans, he was also noticed by TSA agents. He'd gotten to skip the line. He was chatting it up with a female agent who was a huge fan about how much he hates nazis when he put his bag through the scanner. And his bag had set it off.
"Me. Cash, could you step to the side? We need to check your bag.", the female agent told him. He listened without arguing. He like her. She was a beautiful chocktaw woman with blue eyes, which was weird for an Indian..but it made her look more beautiful.
She opened the bag. And the very first thing she saw..took her breathe away. There on the very top was a bullet vibrator. It was silver.
"Mr. Cash. Why do you have this?", she asked. Jason smiled a big, proud smile. "Well..that Dildo Kaine's brother. Silver bullet.", he answered. He then picked it up and turned it on. "Hell Im just gettin them two back together. I reckon they twins cause his little brother here looks just like 'im.", he said.
The agent laughed as Jason " walked" the vibrator back into the bag. "You know that Kaine is a person and this is an inanimate object, right?", she asked. Jason scratched his head.
" The hell is inanimate?", he asked as he scratched his head. " Midgets aint people neither. 'Sides. They look almost identical. He's small..callin himself the silver bullet. And while this thang here's bigger, they still brothers.", Jason laughed.
The agent stopped laughing but still smiled. "Well..You be careful.", she said.
Jason noticed the stares coming from everyone around him. " Im just tryin ta get two brothers back damn together!", he said, obviously offended.
It wasn't long after that Jason found himself on the plane from Jackson to Calofornia where ZT headquarters is.
He found himself sitting next to a rather old lady. She had to be at least ninety. She was a frail looking old lady. Jason thought she was sick but didn't want to say anything.
He took put his handicam just after sitting down. The flight attendant came over to say something but noticed that it wasn't on. Jason noticed her looking and grinned. " If I wasn't married, I'd be joinin the mile high club today", he said to the old lady. She smiled creepily at him. Was Jason creeper out? You bet your ass he was.
He looked into the camer on his lap.
" Gingivitis. I see you got some gold. Yer a champion. Yer gonna be the second champ ZT done took out. Y'know that? The second one and we ain't been here but fer a month. That mess is crazy. We that damn baddass
Now..I noticed you got a little follerin. And I gotta scratch my head as to why. Yer gum disease..plaque.. So why in the blue hell is anybody gonna join yer cult. And that's when it hit me. Yer cult is chock full of toothless winder lickers what got a grudge against teeth and all people who have teeth. The brotherhood of the plaque. I dont damn it understand why they'd think that mess..maybe they just like eatin through straws. Me? Hell I love a juicy steak. That's why I floss. .You ain't gettin my teeth, Plaque."
The old lady next to him looked at him oddly. She noticed that there was no light, but didn't want to say anything.
"Then I really messed up. Y'see...I spent a day all hopped up on redbull and couldn't damn it sleep. So I turn on my tv..and there ya are. Big time promo video from The Plaque. So I watched that sumbitch. And it put me right ta sleep. Y'see. Ya got no character. Ya got no damn charisma. It was like watchin a retard tryin ta damn talk. Just dry...borin as hell. Ya talkin in a mo otone voice like you a damn robot. No emotion. Hell son, I wanted ta be entertained....and that mess put my ass ta sleep. And that brangs me to another question. How in the world you got a cult when ya got no damn personality? Huh? I reckon them winder licker'll do any damn thang.
But that don't matter much. What matters I yer rang stuff. And that mess aint much better. Ya borin as hell in the sumbitchin rang as ya are in yer pissy little videos. Ya half ass every damn thang. You thank yer gonna half ass a damn fight against ZT and win? Hell son, you could come at us with every damn thang ya got and get yer ass handed to ya. That's just how badass we are. It only makes that mess worse on you. You can either fight like a sumbitchin man and get yer ass stomped..or you can half ass it and get that sumbitch walked dry too. It don't matter ta us. We gone whoop ass either way. And boy...we gone whoop wholesale ass this week. When the best of the bunch aint worth two shits and a bucket of piss, you know yer in fer trouble. Hell if I was you? I'd run away. But I ain't you. I'm a sumbitchin fighter."
The old lady asked Jason if he could use any help and pointed to the camera, which was near his crotch. Jason ignored her.
"Yankee Nazi. Dobt you damn it thank I done fergot bout yer ass....cause I ain't. Yer the one sumbitch I damn hate. I feel sorry fer plaque and that midget. Plaque lost his damn mind a while back saw and Dildo Damian Kaine misses his long lost brother. Luckily, I'm brangin 'im with me. But you? Hell yer people killed thousands of Jews. What in the hell yall got against Jews anyway. Sumbitchin Jew man does my taxes. I love that sumbitch. Couldn't do it without 'im. Now..I know they tight wads and got some kinda jew magic...but ya aint gotta damn killem by the thousands. Hell son it aint none of yer damn business what kinda magic they got. I reckon yall was just jealous of it. Can't blame ya there though. If I could pull gold out my ass, I'd prolly do it. But that aint no reason ta killem.
Yall nazis are dirty..ruthless. Atleast 'fore ya get in the rang. In that rang? You ain't worth a damn. Sure ya might whoop a couple ole weak sumbitches. How could ya not? Some folks can't whoop their own ass much less somebody else's. You? Son yer barely over that. You mighta seen alot when you was killin Jews...but you ain't never seen a damn thang like Zero Tolerance. I guarantee that mess. Hell wsssff aint never seen a damn thang like us."
He was beginning to get odd looks. He ignored them as best he could..especially the old lady to his right.
"Now I seen you at that other rasslin place. Ya got mad and beat a sumbitch up. Congrats on that. Least ya got ta whoop somebody's ass 'fore ZT gets ya. Maybe make ya feel good bout yerself. Get yer hopes up. Get ya ta thankin ya got what it takes. Ya dont. Ya ain't got shit. Ya ain't gotta pot to piss in when it comes ta fightin Zero Tolerance. Now..I know yer a nazi and a Yankee. Ya prolly dont damn it know what I mean by that. Well...it means ya ain't got a damn chance. It means we gone treat you like yall treated them Jews. We ain't gone gas ya....in the rang anyway. But we sure nuff gone shove our boots up yer ass and treat ya like a damn puppet. I see that mess now. Knee deep in asshole movin our legs round makin ya dance. Kinda gross but that aint the damn point. The point is we gone brang yer ass down a notch. Make ya understand you ain't got what it damn takes..cause ya dont. Ya piss poor in the rang...even when yer all angry..pissed off cause ya prolly got a small Weiner and yer ole lady brangs the silver bullet over when yer gone. Damn shame...damn shame.
And then theres the midget himself. Dildo kaine. The silver bullet. Pee wee the wonder midget. Look. I know yer pissed off. Ya miss yer brother. You ain't seen that sumbitch in years. Welp...I gotta surprise for ya. I got that sumbitch in my bag. I'm gone reunite yer ass with 'im. That make mess better fer ya? No? Small man syndrome? Dont know what that mess feels like. Mines bigger than you are.
Now what I dont get is what exactly yer place in all this is. Hell yer ass gotta brang a damn ladder just ta get up the steps. You too damn little ta do much. I reckon that's why ya keep gettin yer ass handed to ya. I get it. Gotta chip on yer shoulder. Wanna be bigger so you can whoop some ass. That aint a damn option son! You ain't gettin no damn bigger. You ain't gettin no damn stronger. I'd say yer full of bitch but can't be much there. I mean..I reckon you can scare Shep. That sumbitch scared ta damn death of midgets. That mans terrified of yall midget sumbitches. He'll still whoop that ass though. You can count on that mess.
Now I had my wife read yer bio to me. You do a superkick? How in the hell you even do that mess? Yer too damn short ta hit anybody over six foot tall with it. Hell I don't even see one redeeming thang about ya. Least Plaque has his brotherhood of toothless basterds. Baron least took out some new magic. You? Yer just a damn midget. The hell you brangin? Nothing. Not a damn thang. That's what. Hell this sumbitch might be over 'fore ya get in the damn rang"
And he dropped the camera. He reached down and couldn't pick it up. The old lady offered but our hero quickly said no.
...hours later...
Jason Cash threw open the door to Erik's office. "Who's ready ta party?!", he yelled. Jaymz's eyes began to turn black. Our hero wasn't bothered at all as he Ko stepped into the all white office.
The room started to shake as Jason stepped in. He looked to his left were Salem Sheppard sat on the white couch. He didn't exactly look at that great. His skin was pale.
"How in the hell are yall doin?. We got some beer ovar?", he asked, not worrying about the fact that the building was shaking.
Now, normally Erik would have stepped in but there was a kiddy pool sitting right in the middle of his office. He kept muttering Crazy J's name.
Jason walked over to Shep, who was sitting on the couch, wide eyed. Jason walked over and slapped him on the chest. "Wake up!", our hero yelled. Salem turned his face toward Jason.
"I'm freaking the fuck out man. Are his eyes black?", he asked. Jason nodded. " Yup. Sumbitch got a demon in him er some shit.".
Suddenly, Jaymz's eyes returned to normal as Crazy J stepped in....
