Post by Oath Breaker on Sept 11, 2016 1:15:34 GMT -5
300 watt amplified speakers: CHECK!
Kick ass electric guitar: CHECK!
A neighborhood full of latino gangs: CHECK!
One recipe to piss people off: DOUBLE CHECK!!
Tommy flipped the switch on the amplifiers and turned the dial. The digital wattage output climbing quickly past 250then trimmed back to 200. Room for growth, just to be an abstinent prick if need be. Gibson Les Paul Custom Beauty Bengal Burst Guitar with leopard strap plugged in and ready to go.
Tommy checked the digital alarm clock on the bookshelf. 2:58 AM
2 minutes till show time. Tommy grinned and fingered the strings, testing the harmonic hotspots along the neck. Each tap sending small currents of electric harmony through the wires and amplifiers to come out of the speakers as analog perfection. Tommy prefered analog sound. There’s a fullness and depth in it that digital cannot compare to. A roughness that counters the all too clean sound of digital swamping today’s musical world.
Tommy doesn’t want no sound booth. Tommy wants the dark underbelly where true music is formed. Digital sells records. Analog makes for the live arena experience. No pop culture bullshit, this is about down and dirty rock and fucking roll.
2:59 AM
Just like his match at Slam, this is about being in your grill and having a blast with it. I could get my ass kicked here just as well as at Slam, but I’ll get it done my way and on my terms, with a smile on my face and eager for the next round.
Tommy had walked into WCF a bit too serious. Sure, he trained hard, took a few losses, got a few good wins too. Tommy isn’t the strongest in WCF, that honor belongs to one of his tag team partners this week in the mountain called Bates. Tommy isn’t the fastest in WCF, an honor which could go either with his tag partner Cap WCF or his opponent CJ Phoenix. In physical fitness, Tommy may not be number one in any specific area, but being number two or three in all areas does make him number one as the best all around pure athlete.
CrazyJ owns the deep ends of sanity, so I’m not gonna try and match that. Bishop is the social pariah, with a charisma that seems to draw followers in to his ways. And Tommy knows he doesn’t have the depth of skill as half the members in this big six man, nor does he have the advantage of experience like Bates or CrazyJ. And one week is not enough to build all that to compete on that level.
So in areas he lacks, he can make up for in things that can change quickly. Attitude. With a week spent partying, hustling pool, relaxing the walls of his racism against whites and blacks in general and just focusing on building upon a series of small moments to rebuild morale and positive thinking and the general edge of being more outgoing added an edge to his intensity he had only hoped would be possible.
His ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude is still there, but it’s a little less defiance and a lot more ‘Do It’. Kinda like he ‘Did it’ with sweet little Mexican hottie earlier tonight.
3:00 AM
Tommy starts playing Van Halen’s Eruption from his Les Paul Custom and the sound makes the windows in the small trailer home rattle. That didn’t matter right now to Tommy. He was into playing the guitar much like he’s into his match once the bell rings. The pure sound of amplified electric analog playing one of the best guitar solos ever produced sent rivers of electric adrenaline flowing through his veins.
A hot little Mexican woman comes from down the hallway and into the living room dressed in only a ‘Jersey Devils’ t-shirt that drapes down her body almost like a dress in itself. She yawns and stretches, smiling Tommy’s way, loving his flair for life even at this time of pre-dawn.
Tommy nods in the direction of the amplifier and she points from one control to the next until she finds the amplified volume control dial and Tommy nods in her direction. She brings the dial up a bit to 215 and Tommy nods for her to continue. She gets a devilish grin herself and slowly cranks the dial on up to to full 300. A red lit button flashes next to the dial and she points at it, and again Tommy nods.
She presses the button, and the wattage output meter spikes up to 350 and the decibel meter climbs to 104.
Nobody hears the banging on the front door, only the sudden kick that opens it. A tough looking Mexican in a tank top looks at Tommy, then to the Lil Mexican Hottie. Tommy slides the guitar onto the couch as the ‘Lil Mexican Hottie’s’ former jealous lover looks at her then again at Tommy.
Just like at Slam, this fight is on.
