Post by Vincent Augustine on Oct 16, 2018 23:28:44 GMT -5
Somewhere in the forests around Clifty Canyon in Arkansas not far from the White River
Billy Ray Donnigan and Jimmy Don Lee crept through the woods, careful to keep their noise to a minimum, it was bad enough they were hunting deer out of season and without licenses, they didn’t need to spook the deer as well. Both men were heavyset, wore sleeveless flannel shirts and camo cargo pants, their receding hairlines covered up by Make America Great Again trucker hats. Ducking under some low branches and stepping over some undergrowth, the men came to a sudden stop. Before them sat what looked like a boxed rectangular table, maybe ten feet long and four feet tall. It was an open construction design, all but the top of it which was smooth and polished wood. “The fuck?” Billy Ray asked.
“Ya reckon it’s wonna them hobo things?” Jimmy Don replied as both men just stood there staring at it. The crack of a wood branch to their right grabbed their attention and from the forest appeared a man carrying what looked like wood logs that had been whittled and carved down to look like alcohol bottles, along with some smaller ones that looked like drink glasses, all made out of wood though.
“Oh guests, please come in, have a seat!” The man gleefully gestured for the two men to move up to the wooden structure, and that was when they realized it was meant to be a bar.
“It’s a bar.” Billy Ray exclaimed in a whisper to Jimmy Don.
“Na shit moron.” Jimmy Don clipped back in a whisper. “Knew that tha moment I seen it.”
“Bullshit!” Billy Ray scoffed back.
“Now boys no need for that, just have a seat and tell me what you want.” The man again motioned to the bar, and both Billy Ray and Jimmy Don shrugged at each other before saddling up to the bar and leaning on it. “So what brings you boys to the bar tonight? Lady problems? Performance issues? Maybe some unrequited feelings for each other?”
“Whoa bra!” Billy Ray pulled back a bit from the bar. “No need ta go an be talking all crazy!”
“Yeah, we are juss huntin some deer!” Jimmy Don chimed in.
“Sounds good boys. What’s your names?” The man asked as he placed a wooden cup in front of each of them. “And what will you boys be having today?” He casually asked.
“I’m Billy Ray, and this is Jimmy Don and we will have whatever you have in stock.” He smiled and watched as the man pulled out a wooden carved bottle and pretended to pour something into each of the wooden glasses.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you showed up in a bar John.” The man replied as he used a large leaf to wipe down the top of the bar. “I mean it is kind of your thing right?” He focused his eyes on Jimmy Don.
“Um…my name is Jimmy Don not John.” He replied.
“Actually the sun is going down; so no it’s not dawn. Its dusk but then you wouldn’t know something as simple as that would you John?” The man asked as he continued to wipe down the counter with a leaf.
“Bra I reckon ya got tha wrong guy or a hearin problem.” Jimmy Don replied. “My name is JIMMY DON!” He said it slowly as if that would make it be better understood.
“Look John, the dawn is when the sun comes up, but right now it is dusk. Now I know you are out hunting and most people hunt in the dawn. The name of the time of day doesn’t just change because you want it to be different. Fucking southerners.” The man tossed the leaf on the floor and pretended to top of their drinks. “Now drink your whiskey boy, cuz its dusk and you don’t drink whiskey in the morning, unless you are hungover, or rich, and neither of you are either of those.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Billy Ray scoffed at the man.
“I know who I am, do you not know who I am?” The man asked.
“No, who the fuck are you?” Jimmy Don yelled as he slapped the top of the wooden bar.
“You shouldn’t do that John, not nice to slap the bar. You should know that as you frequent them so often, usually to pour our your pities.” The man grabbed another leaf and wiped around Jimmy Don’s cup as he continued to speak. “I am the bartender, you know the guy you pour your sorrows out to week in and week out? How after so many times frequent my establishment could you forget who I am?” The man looked genuinely hurt.
Jimmy Don leaned in and whispered to Billy Ray. “This dudes fucking nuts bra.”
“What was your first clue?” Billy Ray replied in a whisper with a laugh.
“Look John and John’s friend, this is growing tiring, why don’t you do what you always do? Tell me about your opponent Vincent Augustine.” The man put his elbow on the bar and leaned down waiting for the men to dish on the man he just spoke of.
Both Billy Ryan and Jimmy Don stared at each other for a moment and then Jimmy Smiled and turned his attention to the man whom he only knew as the bartender. “He sounds like some weird fucktard from the Middle East. Probably gonna tryan blow the area up, avoid the fight cuz some towel head God told him it was the right thing ta do.” Both Billy Ray and Jimmy Don let out a laugh.
“Now play some music for me, like you always do.” The man said.
“Look dude we have entertained ya madness for long enough. Who the fuck are you!?” Billy Ray yelled and postured up, both hands on the bar and leaning in on the man.
“Who am I?” The man asked as he slid his arm off the bar and stood directly in front of Billy Ray, eyes fixed on the mans. “Vincent Augustine!” He said, and then Billy Ray felt a searing pain in the side of his head, and saw the bar rushing up to meet his face, and then all went black.
Jimmy Don stood in stunned shock as he just watched the man move with lightning like speed to strike Billy Ray in the left side of the head with an alcohol shaped piece of wood, the blow sending his friend face first into the bar with a thump, and then unconscious to the ground. “What tha fuck?” Jimmy Don yelled, and then realized Vincent’s gaze had turned upon him.
“Some middle east terrorist fuck?” Vincent circled around from the back side of the bar and came to stand next to Jimmy Don. He took the wooden cup and put it to his mouth and tipped it back as if taking a drink. Setting it down with his right hand, he wiped his lip with back of his left. “Such hurtful things you had to say about me John, it’s like you don’t even know who the fuck I am.”
“Because I don’t!” Jimmy Don yelled as he scanned the area trying to find an escape, or something to protect himself with. Before him stood a man that was not weak, a man that he had misjudged in the waning light of the oncoming evening. In the man’s eyes he could see the anger, the pain, and most importantly the CRAZY!
“You hurt me with your words John, you pretend like we don’t know each other, but we have history. We have met a few times. Were our meetings so inconsequential that you don’t remember me?” Vincent paused and scanned the man’s face. “I see they were, you still seem confused, but don’t fret my friend, I have not forgotten you. In fact I know a great deal about you, so much so that you might be scared to hear it. Would you like to?” Vincent half smiled and ducked his head forward.
“Look dude my friend needs help!” Jimmy Don stepped back.
“He’s ok, he’s a big boy, and he’s going to be ok.” Vincent replied taking a step forward.
“He’s bleeding from the side of his head and his face, you hurt him real bad.” Jimmy Don’s voice quivered as he spoke. “Let me just take him and go get help.” Jimmy Don stepped back and remembered the rifle over his shoulder as it bounced with the step and the butt of it struck his back. He let out a breath of excitement as he felt the wave of fear dissipate.
“Can’t do John, we have too much to talk about.” Vincent stepped forward again. He saw the expression on Jimmy Don’s face change and before the man could react Vincent smashed him in the face with a wooden cup off of the bar. Jimmy crumpled down into a heap at Vincent’s feet, his hands grasping the surely broken nose he bore. Shaking his head, Vincent relieved both men of their rifles and tossed them into the woods.
Moving with a quick pace, Vincent tied both men to their own tree, next to each other. Jimmy Don’s head spun as this all took place, his mind struggling to find center, but when it did he was shocked at his predicament. “Let me go!” Jimmy screamed, his eyes setting up on the bloodied face of his friend, tied to the tree next to him. “At least let him go!” He motioned with his head to the other man.
“No.” Vincent shook his head as he stepped forward, he was shaking his head out, as if trying to find his mental bearings. “It’s time for a change John, time to do something different in life.”
“MY NAME IS NOT JOHN!!!!” Jimmy Don yelled. Vincent responded with a throat chop on Jimmy Don and left the man gasping for air.
“Don’t worry you will be able to breath better over time, it just sucks for a little while.” Vincent paced around shaking his head from side to side. “Oh yes!” He announced turning his attention back to John. “Time for a change, something new.” Vincent smiled and half hopped as he made his way back to the wooden bar like structure taking a seat on it with his back to Jimmy Don. He reached down and grabbed something, Jimmy Don unable to see it.
“You ever been tortured John?” Vincent asked, as he worked on something in his lap. “Me, I have been tortured for the last three months, and I don’t know who did it. What I do know is it was someone in the WCF, someone who wants to make sure I don’t find out who they are. The powers that be want to protect them, and they are using you to keep me away, you are nothing more than a pawn in the game, a sick game that cost me three months of my life.” Vincent glanced over his shoulder at Jimmy Don who was struggling to get out of the ties.
“Struggle all you want, I learned that from the people who tortured me, no escape.” Vincent went back to working on whatever it was he had in his lap. “The sad part is I don’t want to hurt you John, I just want answers, but I won’t standby and just take shit sandwich I am being fed. So do what you do, but know your predictability will be your end.” Vincent slid off the bar and circled around, Jimmy Don tried to spy what the man carried but it was behind his back.
Vincent leaned down and placed a wooden trumpet at the feet of the tied up Jimmy Don. “Play your horn, listen to your music and go meet with your bartender, maybe the two of you can get me the answers I want. If not, then tell him what to write on your gravestone and have him ready your will; I am coming for you in a few short days.” Vincent Smiled and walked off, whistling as he disappeared into the forest, his direction north, and nowhere near the highway.
Billy Ray Donnigan and Jimmy Don Lee crept through the woods, careful to keep their noise to a minimum, it was bad enough they were hunting deer out of season and without licenses, they didn’t need to spook the deer as well. Both men were heavyset, wore sleeveless flannel shirts and camo cargo pants, their receding hairlines covered up by Make America Great Again trucker hats. Ducking under some low branches and stepping over some undergrowth, the men came to a sudden stop. Before them sat what looked like a boxed rectangular table, maybe ten feet long and four feet tall. It was an open construction design, all but the top of it which was smooth and polished wood. “The fuck?” Billy Ray asked.
“Ya reckon it’s wonna them hobo things?” Jimmy Don replied as both men just stood there staring at it. The crack of a wood branch to their right grabbed their attention and from the forest appeared a man carrying what looked like wood logs that had been whittled and carved down to look like alcohol bottles, along with some smaller ones that looked like drink glasses, all made out of wood though.
“Oh guests, please come in, have a seat!” The man gleefully gestured for the two men to move up to the wooden structure, and that was when they realized it was meant to be a bar.
“It’s a bar.” Billy Ray exclaimed in a whisper to Jimmy Don.
“Na shit moron.” Jimmy Don clipped back in a whisper. “Knew that tha moment I seen it.”
“Bullshit!” Billy Ray scoffed back.
“Now boys no need for that, just have a seat and tell me what you want.” The man again motioned to the bar, and both Billy Ray and Jimmy Don shrugged at each other before saddling up to the bar and leaning on it. “So what brings you boys to the bar tonight? Lady problems? Performance issues? Maybe some unrequited feelings for each other?”
“Whoa bra!” Billy Ray pulled back a bit from the bar. “No need ta go an be talking all crazy!”
“Yeah, we are juss huntin some deer!” Jimmy Don chimed in.
“Sounds good boys. What’s your names?” The man asked as he placed a wooden cup in front of each of them. “And what will you boys be having today?” He casually asked.
“I’m Billy Ray, and this is Jimmy Don and we will have whatever you have in stock.” He smiled and watched as the man pulled out a wooden carved bottle and pretended to pour something into each of the wooden glasses.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you showed up in a bar John.” The man replied as he used a large leaf to wipe down the top of the bar. “I mean it is kind of your thing right?” He focused his eyes on Jimmy Don.
“Um…my name is Jimmy Don not John.” He replied.
“Actually the sun is going down; so no it’s not dawn. Its dusk but then you wouldn’t know something as simple as that would you John?” The man asked as he continued to wipe down the counter with a leaf.
“Bra I reckon ya got tha wrong guy or a hearin problem.” Jimmy Don replied. “My name is JIMMY DON!” He said it slowly as if that would make it be better understood.
“Look John, the dawn is when the sun comes up, but right now it is dusk. Now I know you are out hunting and most people hunt in the dawn. The name of the time of day doesn’t just change because you want it to be different. Fucking southerners.” The man tossed the leaf on the floor and pretended to top of their drinks. “Now drink your whiskey boy, cuz its dusk and you don’t drink whiskey in the morning, unless you are hungover, or rich, and neither of you are either of those.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Billy Ray scoffed at the man.
“I know who I am, do you not know who I am?” The man asked.
“No, who the fuck are you?” Jimmy Don yelled as he slapped the top of the wooden bar.
“You shouldn’t do that John, not nice to slap the bar. You should know that as you frequent them so often, usually to pour our your pities.” The man grabbed another leaf and wiped around Jimmy Don’s cup as he continued to speak. “I am the bartender, you know the guy you pour your sorrows out to week in and week out? How after so many times frequent my establishment could you forget who I am?” The man looked genuinely hurt.
Jimmy Don leaned in and whispered to Billy Ray. “This dudes fucking nuts bra.”
“What was your first clue?” Billy Ray replied in a whisper with a laugh.
“Look John and John’s friend, this is growing tiring, why don’t you do what you always do? Tell me about your opponent Vincent Augustine.” The man put his elbow on the bar and leaned down waiting for the men to dish on the man he just spoke of.
Both Billy Ryan and Jimmy Don stared at each other for a moment and then Jimmy Smiled and turned his attention to the man whom he only knew as the bartender. “He sounds like some weird fucktard from the Middle East. Probably gonna tryan blow the area up, avoid the fight cuz some towel head God told him it was the right thing ta do.” Both Billy Ray and Jimmy Don let out a laugh.
“Now play some music for me, like you always do.” The man said.
“Look dude we have entertained ya madness for long enough. Who the fuck are you!?” Billy Ray yelled and postured up, both hands on the bar and leaning in on the man.
“Who am I?” The man asked as he slid his arm off the bar and stood directly in front of Billy Ray, eyes fixed on the mans. “Vincent Augustine!” He said, and then Billy Ray felt a searing pain in the side of his head, and saw the bar rushing up to meet his face, and then all went black.
Jimmy Don stood in stunned shock as he just watched the man move with lightning like speed to strike Billy Ray in the left side of the head with an alcohol shaped piece of wood, the blow sending his friend face first into the bar with a thump, and then unconscious to the ground. “What tha fuck?” Jimmy Don yelled, and then realized Vincent’s gaze had turned upon him.
“Some middle east terrorist fuck?” Vincent circled around from the back side of the bar and came to stand next to Jimmy Don. He took the wooden cup and put it to his mouth and tipped it back as if taking a drink. Setting it down with his right hand, he wiped his lip with back of his left. “Such hurtful things you had to say about me John, it’s like you don’t even know who the fuck I am.”
“Because I don’t!” Jimmy Don yelled as he scanned the area trying to find an escape, or something to protect himself with. Before him stood a man that was not weak, a man that he had misjudged in the waning light of the oncoming evening. In the man’s eyes he could see the anger, the pain, and most importantly the CRAZY!
“You hurt me with your words John, you pretend like we don’t know each other, but we have history. We have met a few times. Were our meetings so inconsequential that you don’t remember me?” Vincent paused and scanned the man’s face. “I see they were, you still seem confused, but don’t fret my friend, I have not forgotten you. In fact I know a great deal about you, so much so that you might be scared to hear it. Would you like to?” Vincent half smiled and ducked his head forward.
“Look dude my friend needs help!” Jimmy Don stepped back.
“He’s ok, he’s a big boy, and he’s going to be ok.” Vincent replied taking a step forward.
“He’s bleeding from the side of his head and his face, you hurt him real bad.” Jimmy Don’s voice quivered as he spoke. “Let me just take him and go get help.” Jimmy Don stepped back and remembered the rifle over his shoulder as it bounced with the step and the butt of it struck his back. He let out a breath of excitement as he felt the wave of fear dissipate.
“Can’t do John, we have too much to talk about.” Vincent stepped forward again. He saw the expression on Jimmy Don’s face change and before the man could react Vincent smashed him in the face with a wooden cup off of the bar. Jimmy crumpled down into a heap at Vincent’s feet, his hands grasping the surely broken nose he bore. Shaking his head, Vincent relieved both men of their rifles and tossed them into the woods.
Moving with a quick pace, Vincent tied both men to their own tree, next to each other. Jimmy Don’s head spun as this all took place, his mind struggling to find center, but when it did he was shocked at his predicament. “Let me go!” Jimmy screamed, his eyes setting up on the bloodied face of his friend, tied to the tree next to him. “At least let him go!” He motioned with his head to the other man.
“No.” Vincent shook his head as he stepped forward, he was shaking his head out, as if trying to find his mental bearings. “It’s time for a change John, time to do something different in life.”
“MY NAME IS NOT JOHN!!!!” Jimmy Don yelled. Vincent responded with a throat chop on Jimmy Don and left the man gasping for air.
“Don’t worry you will be able to breath better over time, it just sucks for a little while.” Vincent paced around shaking his head from side to side. “Oh yes!” He announced turning his attention back to John. “Time for a change, something new.” Vincent smiled and half hopped as he made his way back to the wooden bar like structure taking a seat on it with his back to Jimmy Don. He reached down and grabbed something, Jimmy Don unable to see it.
“You ever been tortured John?” Vincent asked, as he worked on something in his lap. “Me, I have been tortured for the last three months, and I don’t know who did it. What I do know is it was someone in the WCF, someone who wants to make sure I don’t find out who they are. The powers that be want to protect them, and they are using you to keep me away, you are nothing more than a pawn in the game, a sick game that cost me three months of my life.” Vincent glanced over his shoulder at Jimmy Don who was struggling to get out of the ties.
“Struggle all you want, I learned that from the people who tortured me, no escape.” Vincent went back to working on whatever it was he had in his lap. “The sad part is I don’t want to hurt you John, I just want answers, but I won’t standby and just take shit sandwich I am being fed. So do what you do, but know your predictability will be your end.” Vincent slid off the bar and circled around, Jimmy Don tried to spy what the man carried but it was behind his back.
Vincent leaned down and placed a wooden trumpet at the feet of the tied up Jimmy Don. “Play your horn, listen to your music and go meet with your bartender, maybe the two of you can get me the answers I want. If not, then tell him what to write on your gravestone and have him ready your will; I am coming for you in a few short days.” Vincent Smiled and walked off, whistling as he disappeared into the forest, his direction north, and nowhere near the highway.
