Post by Psychopomp on Sept 9, 2016 22:15:38 GMT -5
The open road Tuesday (around lunch time)
We are greeted to an air born scene, the sky is blue, a few misshaped cotton like clouds floats in the sky and the yellow ball of fire in space is burning brightly on this warm September day. As the camera transition lower and lower we can start to hear a slight buzzing sound. A sound that resembles a lawn mower or a very annoying mosquito. The camera zoom even closer and we see a dilapidated moped with was seem to be a mix of red and rust colored paint, a lot of black smoke coming from the exhaust and WCF own young rising star Psychopomp.
It looks like he moving at near sloth pace on his two wheeled metallic stallion compared to the other machines passing next to him and honking, probably not too happy about him being on the left lane but we can definitely see a
pearly white grin on that unshaven face of his. He's waving the cars goodbye when they pass him, nearly losing control everything... The camera follows him a couple of kilometers (miles for you Americans) until he stops at one of those famous gas and dive bars combo that seems filled with passing motorcyclist like himself but they seem to enjoy the Harley Davidson model more than his classic Moped. He stops first at the gas station to feed his companion with five dollars worth of delicious unleaded gasoline to then undo his Michelangelo green and orange ninja turtle bike helmet and removes his sweet sweet goggles that he had bought himself on the second week of working for Seth and the rest of the gang.
The place looked like the owners haven't really invested a lot in the upkeep of their establishment but what impressed Pomp the most where those old Western style swing doors that usually came followed by a tumbleweed or some song
made with an ocarina and harmonica that made a Wha wha whhhaaaa sound. Well, that's what went through his mind when he pushed those doors and walked in the watering hole. To his disappointment the people were dressed in a lot more
leather than the classic cowboys and their iconic hat was replaced by ALOT of bandanas. While still holding his helmet under his arms he was soon met with the gaze of about a dozen of those new age cowboys but he was too distracted
by all the old replicas inside the bar; bull horns, old movie posters, Indian statues and apparently Tuesday nights were Karaoke night.
He approaches the bar and pulls out a map from his backpack and waves at the barkeep. He stops the conversation he was having with the nice bald man covered with tattoos that apparently loves his mother very much. The bartender was
a tall man, taller than him, bigger and wore a lot more leather too.
He walks slowly toward the new costumer
Psychopomp: Hi sir, can you help me? I think I'm lost.
Bartender: The psych ward is a few miles north.
Psychopomp: What?! No no I'm not THAT crazy...
The bartender cuts Pomp off
Bartender: Well you have to be if you think you can just come in here and ask for help! Do you know know who runs this place?!
Psychopomp: No, not really...I work with some guys that dresses up like you and i ride a sweet bike like you guys so i hoping you can help a stranger out?
The beverage giver takes a moment to think
Bartender: We'll see. Are you going to buy a drink?
Pomp smiled, it wasn't a 'no' so he had a chance to finally find his way
Psychopomp: Sure! Hummmm mmmmm mmmm I'll have a Fresca please
Bartender: What the *beep*'s Fresca?!
Psychopomp: It's a delicious beverage of grapefr..
The bartender cuts Pomp off once again
Bartender: *beep* that. We have booze not of that *beep*
Psychopomp: I'm sorry i can't drink. I have a big fight this week-end AND I'm driving!
The middle part of that comment interested the leather chaps wearing fella
Bartender: So you're a fighter? What do you do?
Psychopomp: I wrestle for one of the biggest company in the world right now.
Bartender: Really? Who you rassling?
Psychopomp: Dion hummm Neocat? Bureaucrat? No, wait it's Dion Necurat!
Bartender: Never heard of him
Psychopomp: He's pretty good that's why i have to be at top form for it.
Bartender: Wait a minute? Aren't you that Pomp something from the WCF? I thought you said biggest company?!
Psychopomp: Hey listen! We're huge right now! How rating are through the roof since we did the King of death match tournament!
Bartender: When showed the matches here they were really *beep*.
He raises his arms and shouts
Bartender: Hey guys! This guy is from the *beep* *beep* wrestling show with all the blood!
A few of turn turn around but they don't seem really impress but some of them still gave a cheer in a grunting noise. The bartender grabs a mug from under the bar and grabs the soda dispenser gun and fills it with delicious Fresca before handing it back to Pomp. He takes a big gulp of the delicious beverage and thanks him
Psychopomp: So, can you help me?
Bartender: Look, we're not the kind of people that just helps anyone that walks in here.
Psychopomp: But i need to get there so i can train to beat Dijon!
Bartender: I know you're not the best but you can probably beat that *beep*
Psychopomp: He's not just a random wrestler he's an URBAN GLADIATOR!
Bartender: What the *beep* does that mean!?
Psychopomp: I'm not sure but he knows Kung-fu and he looks like one of those guys from the movie 300...but his abs aren't painted on...I tell ya buddy, he's good
Bartender: I ain't your buddy, guy...
Psychopomp: He can also fight like one of them! The guy carries around a shield and a sword! He's not playing around and he's desperate like me...
We're both looking for that win. We may be different in a lot of ways but one thing that we do have in common is our drive.
We show up week in and week out to give everything we got! He's battled a lot of people, fought a lot of other great guys. I've done the same. So i guess i'm like
a different kind of gladiator too! I might not be the King of Hardcore but I'm a Hardcore WARRIOR! He might have spent hours working on techniques and styles of combat but i battled in some of the most gruesome match in recent WCF history and SURVIVED. Granted not unscathed...
Bartender: Really?!
Psychopomp: Yeah, a warrior against a gladiator. Two great combatants will duel it out in the ring and one will come out the victor!
Bartender: So which one is going to take it?
Psychopomp: Me, I will win this. I'll take these scarred hands and beat Dion on Sunday
You could hear and feel the strength, confidence in his words. He realized a lot of things about himself in these last few moments.
Psychopomp: And getting there will help become even greater, I know it.
Bartender: You really want to get there.
Psychopomp: YES!
Bartender: Fine, if you can do this I'll help you.
Psychopomp: Anything I'll do it!
Bartender: I'll give you one chance...If you can get up on that stage and sing a Karaoke song that will move my friends here...You win.
A great challenge was given and accepted. He desperately needed that information so he could get to his final destination. Before going on stage he closed his eyes to think of a song that would reach the crowd of though guys, a song from his lost homeland, a song that he know that everyone loved and would bring them together. He slowly walks up the steps of the makeshift stage to select the song from the machine and lets the guitar rift build up and the adrenaline rush ins his veins before growling the first few lines of
The crowd seemed stunned at first by his song choice but right when the chorus hit, we can hear them sing along to this Canadian rock anthem that can reach even inside the cold hearts of the leather wearing, motorcycle riding brother and show that deep down as much as you can hate them...Nickleback breaks borders and boundaries to create friendships. After the song finishes and Pomp's pelvic thrusting end, the band of bikers raised their glasses and cheered. On his way back to bar he gets a few slaps on his shoulders from guys that looks as imposing as our World champion Bates.
Bartender: Ok, I'll help you... You got *beep* kid, I'll give you that
Pomp lift his fist in victory, obviously glad that he'll finally know which way to go
Psychopomp: YES!
The barkeep grabs the map
Bartender: Where are you going?
Psychopomp: I need to get to Lake Placid
He tends a piece of paper with an address written on it and both of them look at the map
Bartender: Ok, so you're here and you need to go there.
He grabs a pen and marks the two locations with 'X's
Bartender: Don't take this route, it'll take you forever with the *beep* construction that's going on.
With his pen he draws lines of the shortest route to take to get there
Psychopomp: Wow! This is great thank you!
Bartender: Yeah, sure...
Pomp gulps down the rest of his Fresca and puts his helmet back on
Psychopomp: I better get going, I want to get there as soon as i can
.
The bartender shakes his head at the look of Pomp and his awesome helmet and he leaves the bar. A few minutes later we ear the familiar sound of 'What-if' a mosquito did a lawnmower. The barkeep washes and cleans the used mug
Bartender: Wait a minute...That mother *beep* didn't pay!
The camera fades to black
We are greeted to an air born scene, the sky is blue, a few misshaped cotton like clouds floats in the sky and the yellow ball of fire in space is burning brightly on this warm September day. As the camera transition lower and lower we can start to hear a slight buzzing sound. A sound that resembles a lawn mower or a very annoying mosquito. The camera zoom even closer and we see a dilapidated moped with was seem to be a mix of red and rust colored paint, a lot of black smoke coming from the exhaust and WCF own young rising star Psychopomp.
It looks like he moving at near sloth pace on his two wheeled metallic stallion compared to the other machines passing next to him and honking, probably not too happy about him being on the left lane but we can definitely see a
pearly white grin on that unshaven face of his. He's waving the cars goodbye when they pass him, nearly losing control everything... The camera follows him a couple of kilometers (miles for you Americans) until he stops at one of those famous gas and dive bars combo that seems filled with passing motorcyclist like himself but they seem to enjoy the Harley Davidson model more than his classic Moped. He stops first at the gas station to feed his companion with five dollars worth of delicious unleaded gasoline to then undo his Michelangelo green and orange ninja turtle bike helmet and removes his sweet sweet goggles that he had bought himself on the second week of working for Seth and the rest of the gang.
The place looked like the owners haven't really invested a lot in the upkeep of their establishment but what impressed Pomp the most where those old Western style swing doors that usually came followed by a tumbleweed or some song
made with an ocarina and harmonica that made a Wha wha whhhaaaa sound. Well, that's what went through his mind when he pushed those doors and walked in the watering hole. To his disappointment the people were dressed in a lot more
leather than the classic cowboys and their iconic hat was replaced by ALOT of bandanas. While still holding his helmet under his arms he was soon met with the gaze of about a dozen of those new age cowboys but he was too distracted
by all the old replicas inside the bar; bull horns, old movie posters, Indian statues and apparently Tuesday nights were Karaoke night.
He approaches the bar and pulls out a map from his backpack and waves at the barkeep. He stops the conversation he was having with the nice bald man covered with tattoos that apparently loves his mother very much. The bartender was
a tall man, taller than him, bigger and wore a lot more leather too.
He walks slowly toward the new costumer
Psychopomp: Hi sir, can you help me? I think I'm lost.
Bartender: The psych ward is a few miles north.
Psychopomp: What?! No no I'm not THAT crazy...
The bartender cuts Pomp off
Bartender: Well you have to be if you think you can just come in here and ask for help! Do you know know who runs this place?!
Psychopomp: No, not really...I work with some guys that dresses up like you and i ride a sweet bike like you guys so i hoping you can help a stranger out?
The beverage giver takes a moment to think
Bartender: We'll see. Are you going to buy a drink?
Pomp smiled, it wasn't a 'no' so he had a chance to finally find his way
Psychopomp: Sure! Hummmm mmmmm mmmm I'll have a Fresca please
Bartender: What the *beep*'s Fresca?!
Psychopomp: It's a delicious beverage of grapefr..
The bartender cuts Pomp off once again
Bartender: *beep* that. We have booze not of that *beep*
Psychopomp: I'm sorry i can't drink. I have a big fight this week-end AND I'm driving!
The middle part of that comment interested the leather chaps wearing fella
Bartender: So you're a fighter? What do you do?
Psychopomp: I wrestle for one of the biggest company in the world right now.
Bartender: Really? Who you rassling?
Psychopomp: Dion hummm Neocat? Bureaucrat? No, wait it's Dion Necurat!
Bartender: Never heard of him
Psychopomp: He's pretty good that's why i have to be at top form for it.
Bartender: Wait a minute? Aren't you that Pomp something from the WCF? I thought you said biggest company?!
Psychopomp: Hey listen! We're huge right now! How rating are through the roof since we did the King of death match tournament!
Bartender: When showed the matches here they were really *beep*.
He raises his arms and shouts
Bartender: Hey guys! This guy is from the *beep* *beep* wrestling show with all the blood!
A few of turn turn around but they don't seem really impress but some of them still gave a cheer in a grunting noise. The bartender grabs a mug from under the bar and grabs the soda dispenser gun and fills it with delicious Fresca before handing it back to Pomp. He takes a big gulp of the delicious beverage and thanks him
Psychopomp: So, can you help me?
Bartender: Look, we're not the kind of people that just helps anyone that walks in here.
Psychopomp: But i need to get there so i can train to beat Dijon!
Bartender: I know you're not the best but you can probably beat that *beep*
Psychopomp: He's not just a random wrestler he's an URBAN GLADIATOR!
Bartender: What the *beep* does that mean!?
Psychopomp: I'm not sure but he knows Kung-fu and he looks like one of those guys from the movie 300...but his abs aren't painted on...I tell ya buddy, he's good
Bartender: I ain't your buddy, guy...
Psychopomp: He can also fight like one of them! The guy carries around a shield and a sword! He's not playing around and he's desperate like me...
We're both looking for that win. We may be different in a lot of ways but one thing that we do have in common is our drive.
We show up week in and week out to give everything we got! He's battled a lot of people, fought a lot of other great guys. I've done the same. So i guess i'm like
a different kind of gladiator too! I might not be the King of Hardcore but I'm a Hardcore WARRIOR! He might have spent hours working on techniques and styles of combat but i battled in some of the most gruesome match in recent WCF history and SURVIVED. Granted not unscathed...
Bartender: Really?!
Psychopomp: Yeah, a warrior against a gladiator. Two great combatants will duel it out in the ring and one will come out the victor!
Bartender: So which one is going to take it?
Psychopomp: Me, I will win this. I'll take these scarred hands and beat Dion on Sunday
You could hear and feel the strength, confidence in his words. He realized a lot of things about himself in these last few moments.
Psychopomp: And getting there will help become even greater, I know it.
Bartender: You really want to get there.
Psychopomp: YES!
Bartender: Fine, if you can do this I'll help you.
Psychopomp: Anything I'll do it!
Bartender: I'll give you one chance...If you can get up on that stage and sing a Karaoke song that will move my friends here...You win.
A great challenge was given and accepted. He desperately needed that information so he could get to his final destination. Before going on stage he closed his eyes to think of a song that would reach the crowd of though guys, a song from his lost homeland, a song that he know that everyone loved and would bring them together. He slowly walks up the steps of the makeshift stage to select the song from the machine and lets the guitar rift build up and the adrenaline rush ins his veins before growling the first few lines of
The crowd seemed stunned at first by his song choice but right when the chorus hit, we can hear them sing along to this Canadian rock anthem that can reach even inside the cold hearts of the leather wearing, motorcycle riding brother and show that deep down as much as you can hate them...Nickleback breaks borders and boundaries to create friendships. After the song finishes and Pomp's pelvic thrusting end, the band of bikers raised their glasses and cheered. On his way back to bar he gets a few slaps on his shoulders from guys that looks as imposing as our World champion Bates.
Bartender: Ok, I'll help you... You got *beep* kid, I'll give you that
Pomp lift his fist in victory, obviously glad that he'll finally know which way to go
Psychopomp: YES!
The barkeep grabs the map
Bartender: Where are you going?
Psychopomp: I need to get to Lake Placid
He tends a piece of paper with an address written on it and both of them look at the map
Bartender: Ok, so you're here and you need to go there.
He grabs a pen and marks the two locations with 'X's
Bartender: Don't take this route, it'll take you forever with the *beep* construction that's going on.
With his pen he draws lines of the shortest route to take to get there
Psychopomp: Wow! This is great thank you!
Bartender: Yeah, sure...
Pomp gulps down the rest of his Fresca and puts his helmet back on
Psychopomp: I better get going, I want to get there as soon as i can
.
The bartender shakes his head at the look of Pomp and his awesome helmet and he leaves the bar. A few minutes later we ear the familiar sound of 'What-if' a mosquito did a lawnmower. The barkeep washes and cleans the used mug
Bartender: Wait a minute...That mother *beep* didn't pay!
The camera fades to black
