Post by Vincent Augustine on Dec 5, 2018 23:37:12 GMT -5
Barry would love to tell you how great a guy he was, but that sadly wasn’t the truth. Like most of the civilization that lives in a small town in the middle of nowhere, Barry struggled to make the ends meet. Jobs were on a short list, and his heavy set frame eliminated him from most physical work. Truth was Barry was nothing more than a stereotypical redneck from Southern Texas, living in a trailer park with a jacked up 1990’s Ford pickup truck, and a cracked flat screen on top of a wood boxed tube television.
That crack in the screen didn’t stop Barry though; he religiously watched his favorite show, Lifestyles of the broke and penniless. The primary focus of the show, celebrities who had crashed so hard they had no money left, and were living in squalor. It was truly the only thing that brought a smile to Barry’s face; well that and his late night bathroom stop. Tonight was no different than any other night; Barry sat in his 20 year old broken recliner, pulled up his cheap TV tray, and ate his frozen hungry man while watching his favorite show. Glitter flashed on the screen, and the opening music for the show began. Tent camps flashed in, people diving in dumpsters played, and then the show’s title took up the screen. “LIFESTYLES OF THE BROKE AND PENNILESS.”
A short man with a hooked nose and black horseshoe bald head stood on the screen. “Hello everyone, I am Sumdo Shman and welcome to another episode of Lifestyles of the Broke and Penniless. Tonight is a special one for everyone. It’s the story of a man who had everything, family with money, a giant farm and the beginnings of a budding career in wrestling, then it all went south like Sherman, and now he lives where he can.” Barry sat forward and smiled, the only thing better than Lifestyles was wrestling and now they were both combined.
The intro flashed on the TV, a wrestling ring, some horses in a field, and then the flash to a tent in the woods. “He had everything, his parents had money, a giant ranch, but that wasn’t enough for Vincent Augustine, he wanted more, he wanted fame and his own fortune. So he set out to be a great wrestler, trained hard, worked the indie scene and made the bigtime in the WCF, everything was on the up and up, and then he vanished. He has returned to the WCF, his contract nothing more than penny’s as he owes money to the organization, and he has to pay for the lawyers who are fighting to get his properties back after he was declared dead by longtime friend Henry.” Sumdo strode through the forest towards a small grey tent that was pitched between some tents with a smoldering campfire right outside.
Striding before the camera Sumdo pointed to the tent. “This is the elusive home of Vincent Augustine. An ever moving abode that provides the man with no car, no way to pay for transportation, a home when he needs to sleep. We have tracked the man to this spot, to do what no one has done since his return, get an exclusive interview, and view into the mind of a man some are saying is crazy. This may be dangerous, and if you are squeamish look away now, I’m going to knock on the tent.” Sumdo squatted down and crept towards the tent, he stayed low and moved deliberate and slow, stopping every so often to look back at the camera and build the drama.
After a short commercial break that took place just as Sumdo was reaching the tent, the show came back with Sumdo reaching out for the tent. “Vincent?” He questioned into the open are as he rapped against the soft canvas of the tent. Sumdo jumped back as a startled sound and rustling came from within the tent. The zipper lowered and Sumod built the drama with look of fear at the camera. From the tent Vincent Augustine slid out, standing up with a stretch and crack of his back.
“Help you?” Vincent asked as he grabbed a metal cup from the entrance of the tent, poured some rain water runoff into it and dropped some powdered coffee in. A long silence persisted as Vincent stoked the coals and got a fire going, setting up the metal stand, and putting his cup over the fire. “What’s with the camera?” Vincent asked, after a minute and retrieving the cup from the fire, sitting down to drink it on a nearby log.
“Are you Vincent Augustine?” Sumdo asked.
“Honestly I don’t know anymore. I feel like I’m Vincent, and then one moment later I feel like someone else.” Vincent sipped the coffee and stared at the man who took a seat on a wooden stool that was produced by the cameraman.
“You are so cryptic.” Sumdo said as he took a thermos, unscrewed the top and took a pull. “Tell me Mr. Augustine, how does one go from a giant farm, millions of dollars and a budding career in wrestling, to this?” Sumdo used outstretched arms to frame the image of the small camp for the viewers.
“To the point huh?” Vincent smirked, sipped his coffee and took a deep breath. “There was a time that I would like that, hell a time I would have admired it. But that time passed a while back.” Another sip of the coffee and a deep breath from Vincent. “Alas the forces that be have chosen to change my perception on things, not just mentally but physically.” Vincent used a stick to stir up the fire a bit.
“I try and get right to the point whenever I can. I find it to be most prudent rather than beating around the bush. In my line of work you kind of have to be to the point, the more questions you ask, the less time you have to get the things you want.” Sumdo sipped his thermos and smiled at Vincent.
“What line of work is that?” Vincent asked.
“I host a TV show.” Sumdo countered.
“Wrestling?” Vincent finished off his coffee and set the cup down on the log. Sumdo only shook his head no. “I figured you were here for the interview, to ask the questions everyone always asks, like where have you been? What are your thoughts on this guy, tell me how much you are going to beat this man. It all gets rather trite in the end.” Vincent lowered his head and fidgeted with his thumbs as he sat.
“Oh no nothing like that. I just want to know how you came to own nothing, how you lost everything and how you live like this? I want to know what is it like, do you think about the past, linger on what might have been, what you feel should have been?” Sumdo Shman smiled, he prided himself on throwing questions out that might emotionally hurt the person, the questions that gave a true response from them.
“No.” Vincent said simply.
“No?” Sumdo asked back.
“Yeah the answer is no, I don’t dwell, I don’t think about it.” Vincent motioned for Sumdo to lean in close, and both the man and cameraman moved in close. “But the other guy does, he thinks about it a lot, it’s the only thing he ever thinks about. Quite sad that he can’t move on from the past, always stuck wondering what if, why this happened, quite sad if you ask me.” Vincent spoke only a pitch above a whisper and the audio struggled to pick up everything.
“There is someone else here?” Sumdo shot his gaze around, his face filling with initial worry, then turning to a smile and returning to Vincent. “Good one, I like it, out in a creepy place like this and you want to mess with me, nice.” Sumdo was smiling and nodding his head.
“But there is someone else here, two more to be exact.” Vincent smiled a bit before continuing. “See Henry had a grand idea, he would fix me. When I first got to the WCF I was too soft, there was no mean streak and he thought he could fix me, make me have an edge. But it didn’t work the first time.”
“The first time?” Sumdo asked.
“Yeah so he proceeded to go it a bit further, to warp my mind, bend it into something different, and that’s when I vanished.” Vincent leaned forward again and stared hard into the man’s eyes. “He tried to enhance the aggressive side of my brain, instead he put something else inside my mind, something scary.” Vincent raised his eyes, nodded his head and leaned back.
“Like another personality?” Sumdo seemed confused. “Come on, you are messing with me, you are crazy, that’s all, just crazy like everyone else says.” Sumdo laughed and so did the cameraman.
“I’M NOT CRAZY!” Vincent snapped back as he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I’M NOT…NO…I’M NOT CRAZY!” The fearful tone turned to anger as he said it, his head still buried in his hands. Suddenly his head shot up and there sat a man different, not the same as the man before. “I’m in full control.” The voice had deepened, the eyes had darkened and everything said this was not the same man who had been sitting there drinking coffee.
“Wait, who, what?” Sumdo stumbled backwards as he stood up.
“Would you like to see something special?” Vincent asked with a sick smile on his face. “It’s why you are here isn’t it?” He asked still brimming with the smile.
“Um…yeah?” Sumdo half asked as he watched the man stand up and head for the tent. A short minute later and Vincent emerged with a duffel bag, throwing it down onto the dirt before Sumdo. With a head nod Vincent motioned for the man to look into the bag.
“LOOK!” Vincent yelled at Sumdo.
With trembling hands Sumdo unzipped the bag, his eyes glancing up and down to the camera. As the zipper slid down, Vincent began to smile. The zipper reached the end, to reveal the bag was lined with cardboard to keep it propped up, but there was nothing else inside. “What the hell?” Sumdo asked.
“What you see there is the value of everything that Theo and everyone like him in the WCF holds dear.” Vincent said.
“You mean Teo?” Sumdo questioned.
“Yeah whatever, what he and everyone else doesn’t understand is that no amount of belts to hold up your pants, or stone to put in rings are going to make you better. Their value is only that of which someone would pay for it, and let’s be honest, they don’t cost much.” Vincent reached into the tent and tossed a plastic wrestling title belt on the ground. Emblazoned on the front of it was a crude marker drawing of a TV. “Look, for $20 I am now a Television champion.”
Vincent turned again and reached into the tent and tossed a plastic gold colored glove adorned with 6 plastic colored gems on it. “Oh look for another $20 bucks I hold all the infinity stones, look at me and how special I am.” Vincent stepped on the glove and smashed the plastic, pieces breaking everywhere, the stones flying off and disappearing into the shrubs around the camp.
“I mean you’re not really the champ or hold the stones.” Sumdo said.
“But am I? What is the difference, if some guy said that belt had value, some guy said those stones had value, then would they not have value?” Vincent stared at him. “The truth is they don’t mean shit, they are nothing more than ornaments to hand on your wall, to goose up your pride over. But the reality is the only thing matters, is winning, getting answers, and that is what I do. Theo thinks he can where is Cyclops glasses and pretend he has some greatness that can’t be matched because a belt that can’t hold up a pair of pants says he is great. What he is missing is the truth, that everything you think is valuable can be taken away, can be destroyed, and that is my job, to take what he and everyone else holds dear away.” Vincent picked up the plastic title belt and laughed for a moment before tossing it onto the fire and watching it burn.
“Just wait and watch as reality hits the man hard. He can look over, under, and around his glasses all he wants, he can run his mouth and show you his false trophies, but in the end I will show the world what they all don’t want to see.” Vincent knelt down, and stared into the flame. “Everything burns, and everything can be taken away. In the end Theo will thank me for the gift I am going to give him, he will come to accept the humility that I provide him.”
“It’s Teo by the way.” Sumdo said with a quiver of fear in his voice.
“It doesn’t really matter does it? My gift doesn’t discriminate; everyone will receive it in time.” Vincent continued to stare at the fire. Sumdo simply motioned for the cameraman to back up and both men moved backwards from the camp, the black smoke of the burning plastic the last thing they saw before turning and moving for the van.
“There you have it ladies and gentleman; Vincent Augustine is a fucking psychotic bastard.” Sumdo stopped at the back of the van. “I am Sumdo Shman saying that is it for the latest episode of Lifestyles of the Broke and Penniless, have a good night and stay classy.”
Barry sat back in his chair and sighed as the show faded to black and then to commercials. Grabbing his TV remote, Barry set the DVR to record slam before standing up and taking his plastic dinner container from the Hungry Man to the trash.
That crack in the screen didn’t stop Barry though; he religiously watched his favorite show, Lifestyles of the broke and penniless. The primary focus of the show, celebrities who had crashed so hard they had no money left, and were living in squalor. It was truly the only thing that brought a smile to Barry’s face; well that and his late night bathroom stop. Tonight was no different than any other night; Barry sat in his 20 year old broken recliner, pulled up his cheap TV tray, and ate his frozen hungry man while watching his favorite show. Glitter flashed on the screen, and the opening music for the show began. Tent camps flashed in, people diving in dumpsters played, and then the show’s title took up the screen. “LIFESTYLES OF THE BROKE AND PENNILESS.”
A short man with a hooked nose and black horseshoe bald head stood on the screen. “Hello everyone, I am Sumdo Shman and welcome to another episode of Lifestyles of the Broke and Penniless. Tonight is a special one for everyone. It’s the story of a man who had everything, family with money, a giant farm and the beginnings of a budding career in wrestling, then it all went south like Sherman, and now he lives where he can.” Barry sat forward and smiled, the only thing better than Lifestyles was wrestling and now they were both combined.
The intro flashed on the TV, a wrestling ring, some horses in a field, and then the flash to a tent in the woods. “He had everything, his parents had money, a giant ranch, but that wasn’t enough for Vincent Augustine, he wanted more, he wanted fame and his own fortune. So he set out to be a great wrestler, trained hard, worked the indie scene and made the bigtime in the WCF, everything was on the up and up, and then he vanished. He has returned to the WCF, his contract nothing more than penny’s as he owes money to the organization, and he has to pay for the lawyers who are fighting to get his properties back after he was declared dead by longtime friend Henry.” Sumdo strode through the forest towards a small grey tent that was pitched between some tents with a smoldering campfire right outside.
Striding before the camera Sumdo pointed to the tent. “This is the elusive home of Vincent Augustine. An ever moving abode that provides the man with no car, no way to pay for transportation, a home when he needs to sleep. We have tracked the man to this spot, to do what no one has done since his return, get an exclusive interview, and view into the mind of a man some are saying is crazy. This may be dangerous, and if you are squeamish look away now, I’m going to knock on the tent.” Sumdo squatted down and crept towards the tent, he stayed low and moved deliberate and slow, stopping every so often to look back at the camera and build the drama.
After a short commercial break that took place just as Sumdo was reaching the tent, the show came back with Sumdo reaching out for the tent. “Vincent?” He questioned into the open are as he rapped against the soft canvas of the tent. Sumdo jumped back as a startled sound and rustling came from within the tent. The zipper lowered and Sumod built the drama with look of fear at the camera. From the tent Vincent Augustine slid out, standing up with a stretch and crack of his back.
“Help you?” Vincent asked as he grabbed a metal cup from the entrance of the tent, poured some rain water runoff into it and dropped some powdered coffee in. A long silence persisted as Vincent stoked the coals and got a fire going, setting up the metal stand, and putting his cup over the fire. “What’s with the camera?” Vincent asked, after a minute and retrieving the cup from the fire, sitting down to drink it on a nearby log.
“Are you Vincent Augustine?” Sumdo asked.
“Honestly I don’t know anymore. I feel like I’m Vincent, and then one moment later I feel like someone else.” Vincent sipped the coffee and stared at the man who took a seat on a wooden stool that was produced by the cameraman.
“You are so cryptic.” Sumdo said as he took a thermos, unscrewed the top and took a pull. “Tell me Mr. Augustine, how does one go from a giant farm, millions of dollars and a budding career in wrestling, to this?” Sumdo used outstretched arms to frame the image of the small camp for the viewers.
“To the point huh?” Vincent smirked, sipped his coffee and took a deep breath. “There was a time that I would like that, hell a time I would have admired it. But that time passed a while back.” Another sip of the coffee and a deep breath from Vincent. “Alas the forces that be have chosen to change my perception on things, not just mentally but physically.” Vincent used a stick to stir up the fire a bit.
“I try and get right to the point whenever I can. I find it to be most prudent rather than beating around the bush. In my line of work you kind of have to be to the point, the more questions you ask, the less time you have to get the things you want.” Sumdo sipped his thermos and smiled at Vincent.
“What line of work is that?” Vincent asked.
“I host a TV show.” Sumdo countered.
“Wrestling?” Vincent finished off his coffee and set the cup down on the log. Sumdo only shook his head no. “I figured you were here for the interview, to ask the questions everyone always asks, like where have you been? What are your thoughts on this guy, tell me how much you are going to beat this man. It all gets rather trite in the end.” Vincent lowered his head and fidgeted with his thumbs as he sat.
“Oh no nothing like that. I just want to know how you came to own nothing, how you lost everything and how you live like this? I want to know what is it like, do you think about the past, linger on what might have been, what you feel should have been?” Sumdo Shman smiled, he prided himself on throwing questions out that might emotionally hurt the person, the questions that gave a true response from them.
“No.” Vincent said simply.
“No?” Sumdo asked back.
“Yeah the answer is no, I don’t dwell, I don’t think about it.” Vincent motioned for Sumdo to lean in close, and both the man and cameraman moved in close. “But the other guy does, he thinks about it a lot, it’s the only thing he ever thinks about. Quite sad that he can’t move on from the past, always stuck wondering what if, why this happened, quite sad if you ask me.” Vincent spoke only a pitch above a whisper and the audio struggled to pick up everything.
“There is someone else here?” Sumdo shot his gaze around, his face filling with initial worry, then turning to a smile and returning to Vincent. “Good one, I like it, out in a creepy place like this and you want to mess with me, nice.” Sumdo was smiling and nodding his head.
“But there is someone else here, two more to be exact.” Vincent smiled a bit before continuing. “See Henry had a grand idea, he would fix me. When I first got to the WCF I was too soft, there was no mean streak and he thought he could fix me, make me have an edge. But it didn’t work the first time.”
“The first time?” Sumdo asked.
“Yeah so he proceeded to go it a bit further, to warp my mind, bend it into something different, and that’s when I vanished.” Vincent leaned forward again and stared hard into the man’s eyes. “He tried to enhance the aggressive side of my brain, instead he put something else inside my mind, something scary.” Vincent raised his eyes, nodded his head and leaned back.
“Like another personality?” Sumdo seemed confused. “Come on, you are messing with me, you are crazy, that’s all, just crazy like everyone else says.” Sumdo laughed and so did the cameraman.
“I’M NOT CRAZY!” Vincent snapped back as he shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I’M NOT…NO…I’M NOT CRAZY!” The fearful tone turned to anger as he said it, his head still buried in his hands. Suddenly his head shot up and there sat a man different, not the same as the man before. “I’m in full control.” The voice had deepened, the eyes had darkened and everything said this was not the same man who had been sitting there drinking coffee.
“Wait, who, what?” Sumdo stumbled backwards as he stood up.
“Would you like to see something special?” Vincent asked with a sick smile on his face. “It’s why you are here isn’t it?” He asked still brimming with the smile.
“Um…yeah?” Sumdo half asked as he watched the man stand up and head for the tent. A short minute later and Vincent emerged with a duffel bag, throwing it down onto the dirt before Sumdo. With a head nod Vincent motioned for the man to look into the bag.
“LOOK!” Vincent yelled at Sumdo.
With trembling hands Sumdo unzipped the bag, his eyes glancing up and down to the camera. As the zipper slid down, Vincent began to smile. The zipper reached the end, to reveal the bag was lined with cardboard to keep it propped up, but there was nothing else inside. “What the hell?” Sumdo asked.
“What you see there is the value of everything that Theo and everyone like him in the WCF holds dear.” Vincent said.
“You mean Teo?” Sumdo questioned.
“Yeah whatever, what he and everyone else doesn’t understand is that no amount of belts to hold up your pants, or stone to put in rings are going to make you better. Their value is only that of which someone would pay for it, and let’s be honest, they don’t cost much.” Vincent reached into the tent and tossed a plastic wrestling title belt on the ground. Emblazoned on the front of it was a crude marker drawing of a TV. “Look, for $20 I am now a Television champion.”
Vincent turned again and reached into the tent and tossed a plastic gold colored glove adorned with 6 plastic colored gems on it. “Oh look for another $20 bucks I hold all the infinity stones, look at me and how special I am.” Vincent stepped on the glove and smashed the plastic, pieces breaking everywhere, the stones flying off and disappearing into the shrubs around the camp.
“I mean you’re not really the champ or hold the stones.” Sumdo said.
“But am I? What is the difference, if some guy said that belt had value, some guy said those stones had value, then would they not have value?” Vincent stared at him. “The truth is they don’t mean shit, they are nothing more than ornaments to hand on your wall, to goose up your pride over. But the reality is the only thing matters, is winning, getting answers, and that is what I do. Theo thinks he can where is Cyclops glasses and pretend he has some greatness that can’t be matched because a belt that can’t hold up a pair of pants says he is great. What he is missing is the truth, that everything you think is valuable can be taken away, can be destroyed, and that is my job, to take what he and everyone else holds dear away.” Vincent picked up the plastic title belt and laughed for a moment before tossing it onto the fire and watching it burn.
“Just wait and watch as reality hits the man hard. He can look over, under, and around his glasses all he wants, he can run his mouth and show you his false trophies, but in the end I will show the world what they all don’t want to see.” Vincent knelt down, and stared into the flame. “Everything burns, and everything can be taken away. In the end Theo will thank me for the gift I am going to give him, he will come to accept the humility that I provide him.”
“It’s Teo by the way.” Sumdo said with a quiver of fear in his voice.
“It doesn’t really matter does it? My gift doesn’t discriminate; everyone will receive it in time.” Vincent continued to stare at the fire. Sumdo simply motioned for the cameraman to back up and both men moved backwards from the camp, the black smoke of the burning plastic the last thing they saw before turning and moving for the van.
“There you have it ladies and gentleman; Vincent Augustine is a fucking psychotic bastard.” Sumdo stopped at the back of the van. “I am Sumdo Shman saying that is it for the latest episode of Lifestyles of the Broke and Penniless, have a good night and stay classy.”
Barry sat back in his chair and sighed as the show faded to black and then to commercials. Grabbing his TV remote, Barry set the DVR to record slam before standing up and taking his plastic dinner container from the Hungry Man to the trash.
