Post by Oath Breaker on Sept 1, 2016 3:29:01 GMT -5
The Rescue
Tommy: It’s all cool man. Just calm down.
Voice on the phone: I be bestest tag team partner, you see. We take on all comer and show them the power of great indian warrior and superhero, this I no doubt.
Tommy: It’s all good man, and congrats. But we gotta get together and train.
Voice: Us train? We tag champions. Why we train when we so good?
Tommy: We are a tag team. It might help if we put together some double team moves .. like tag teams have.
Voice: Oh Yes! Silly me. We must make tag moves and make them the biggest, bestest, most awesome moves ever.
Tommy can’t help but smile at the enthusiasm of his new partner. He knew Captain WCF would be a good partner, and more importantly, NOT someone he had to worry about carrying around to keep the belts. For better or for worst, Cap would give his best each and every match, and Tommy liked that. Especially liked that he didn’t have to be teamed up with some American born white trash.
The only real problem Tommy could finger is that he and Cap are pages from very different books and needed to be brought into the same novel. But he also could see how these opposites could work to advantage.
Voice: Really good tag team we will be. Be the greatest team WCF ever see.We call ourselves.. What we call ourselves? OH! Call ourselves Super Hawk!
Tommy liked the name and was about to say so when Cap ruined it all.
Voice: Better name! Call ourselves Captain Sparrow!
Tommy: *shaking his head* Sorry, that’s a name of a famous character in a movie.
Voice: Oh .. well .. I guess we just settle on Super Hawk.
Tommy: We can discuss that later.
The sounds of mewing catch Tommy’s attention. He looks around on the sidewalk and nearby lawns to no avail. The mewing occurs again and Tommy looks up into an old hickory tree, where on the first big branch a blonde colored kitten is clinging desperately and fearfully looking around.”Meww!”
Tommy: Something’s come up, I gotta go. We’ll talk again soon, Cap.
Before Captain WCF can respond, the flick of a thumb cancels the call. Tommy looks to the phone, nodding his approval before looking back up into the tree.
“Meww!”
Tommy: Curious little one.
He slips the phone into his jeans pocket and grasps the tree with both hands. With some careful foot holds, he maneuvers his way with ease up the tree, bringing himself to eye level with the kitten.
“Meww!”
Tommy: I hear ya, bud.
Tommy reaches out with his hand, the kitten looking on in fright but too scared to move and Tommy gets hold of the kitten by the scruff of the neck and slowly lifts. The kittens front claws lose grip of the branch and start flailing around in feeble attempt to get traction in mid air. “Mew MEEEWWW!”
Slowly, Tommy brings the kitten to his shoulder, letting the kitten sink it’s claws into his bare flesh with a swince. Tommy gets hold of the tree and controls his descent and within moments is back on the ground once again. The kitten now looking around a little less fearful and with a curious glint in it’s eyes. Ears perked high as it looks down and around until finally looking into the face of its saviour. “Mew.”
Tommy: Suppose you’re coming with me little one.
The kitten seems to relax at this height, the claws releasing slowly from Tommy’s flesh as it begins to get comfortable perched atop Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy starts to walk along, and within a couple blocks is in the neighborhood of his mobile home. The very same neighborhood that is also home to a Latin Gang. Tommy hoped to avoid meeting any of the gang members this day, but luck would prove otherwise.
As he came around the corner a block away from his home, two of Latin’s finest were standing on the sidewalk, one lighting up what could be assumed to be either a cigarette or marijuana of the other. The unmistakeable 13 tattooed across their faces. He continued walking along, hoping again for the fortune of being left alone.
”Mew!”
Shit.
Latino: Hey Holmes.
Damn.
Latino: We been watchin’ you.
Fuck.
Tommy: Okay, and?
Latino: We like the way you handle to po-po.
Tommy: Fucking cops. I swear they’re all inbred.
Both Latinos laugh out at that. They seem relaxed, which Tommy follows through with. If they was going to start something with me, there would be some aggressive edge in attitude, which there is none right now. The key being .. right now. And Tommy didn’t wish to change that. Still a good idea to stay sharp .. just in case.
Latino: Yeah man, we also recanize ya.
Tommy: Oh? How so?
Latino: From TV man. We big fans of DubSeeEff. Hey! Is it true?
Tommy: Umm .. which part?
Latino: That Logan man, that he sucks off Seth under the desk while Seth do his biz with the stars an stuff?
Tommy: *shaking his head* Logan was gone before I got hired on. Don’t know myself, but that is the rumor backstage.
Latino: Aight! Aight. Hey! You got some big seis man this sun, right?
Tommy: Yeah. Me and Cap Dub with Dion head off against Cash, Sheppard an Rider. Rider has experience with tag teams, Shep is from the streets and fights like it, Cash is the rough house country boy but has lots of experience with Shep in tags. So my team has our work cut out for us.
Latino: Yeah, but you gots the gold man. An ya brutalized Slane an Perfection ta get it. No easy thing, man. Mad props an shit.
Tommy: Thanks man.
“Mew.”
Tommy: He thanks you to. He’s my secret weapon. He’s why I’m gonna win against Rider and ZT.
Latino: Oh, this I gots ta hear.
Tommy: He likes to climb, has sharp claws, and stops at the first big trunk he finds. Ever hear of a country boy that ain’t well hung? Dude’s manhood just got turned into a scratching post nuts first. With Cash indisposed of, it’s 3 on 2. We got this.
Both Latinos laugh at this. Not the fake laugh you see on TV, but the genuine inability to contain yourself and your face is changing colors kind of laugh. Tommy laughs a little as well, a silent pat on his own back for cleverly keeping a risky situation nice and neutral.
Tommy: Hey! I have tickets in my wallet for Slam. You guys wanna go?
Latino: Fuck yeah! Road trip bro. We’ll be there.
It amazes Tommy how much clearer Latino English becomes when you have what they want. He slowly fishes out his billfold, peeling three pieces of paper from inside and handing them over.
Tommy: Two ringside tickets and a three hundred dollar merchandise voucher.
Latino: Shit yeah. Hey Hawk. Glad you in our hood, man.
Tommy: *politely nods* Likewise.
How the fuck did I just pull that off.
