Post by Vincent Augustine on Feb 2, 2019 19:24:28 GMT -5
The beat up Ford Explorer came to a stop, a trail of dust kicked up behind it. Vincent Augustine and Jayson price stepped out into the ghost town known as Nothing. That’s right, a small town in Arizona known as nothing. “Established in 1977, about 100 miles northwest of Phoenix, I give you the town of Nothing!” Vincent proclaimed with a sense of accomplishment behind his voice.
“It’s a fucking ghost town.” Price stated, anger filling his voice. For two days they had been driving, and for two days he had listened to Vincent rumble on about everything and nothing all at the same god damn time. It was like riding with a woman, but then in a way it was free and Jayson really couldn’t afford to pass up a free ride at this point.
“I know, but check this out.” Vincent pointed to a sign just off to the west.
TOWN OF NOTHING ARIZONA. FOUNDED 1977. ELEVATION 3269FT.
The staunch citizens of Nothing are full of Hope, Faith, and Believe in the work ethic. Thru-the-years-these dedicated people had faith in Nothing, hoped for Nothing, worked at Nothing, for Nothing.
“I don’t get it.” Jayson said as he looked upon the excited Vincent.
“It’s us, or at least what everyone thinks we are. See the common misconception around the WCF is that we are nothing, born of nothing, working for nothing, and therefore we mean nothing. People mistake failure for belief in nothing, they don’t understand what the true meaning of nothing means, and in fact use it so liberally that they have convinced themselves they are right.” Vincent paused for a moment as he watched Price work through what he said.
“Kind of like the expression I could care less?” Jayson finally asked.
“Exactly!” Vincent exclaimed with excitement. “See people think that expression means they don’t care, but the actual meaning is that you care, but you just can’t care any less than you do. It’s not uncommon for people to think like this, usually because they were never taught any better.” Vincent walked back to the Explorer, Jayson pausing to linger at the sign a moment more before following.
“So what is your point?” Jayson asked.
“Let’s consider the word nothing and its definition.” Vincent slipped in the driver’s seat, Jayson into the passengers. “There are three common accepted definitions for the word nothing. First is ‘not anything,’ meaning no-thing, as in nonexistent. Second you have ‘no part’ as in hands off of the thing or situation. The third is ‘one of no interest or value’ and this is the one that trips most people up.” Vincent started the Explorer and guided it back onto highway US93.
“Meaning that if someone is nothing, why talk about them at length?” Jayson half asked and half stated as he put it all together. “You are referring to Michael X and his desperate need to make sure that he told the world that we are nothing, and will never be any more than nothing.” Jayson stated with a smile.
“Exactly. Truth is we mean so much to him that he had to go out of his way to discredit us at every turn possible. Deep down inside he knows what we know, that something wicked his way is coming, but to push down the flight response of fight or flight he has to mentally discredit us, but to do that he has to contradict himself.” Vincent grabbed his water from the cup holder and took a sip.
“So then how does this help us?” Jayson asked.
“When I was in Berlin I met this great little old man, owned a small little bakery on a corner. Made the best Baklava in the world, people came from all over Germany to get their hands on the fine pastries. But he had a secret, out of the back of his store he sold guns to rebels that wanted to overthrow the government. It was a shame when the German government took him away.” Vincent took another swig of his water and passed a semi on the small two lane highway.
“I don’t like riddles, please elaborate.” Frustration filled Jayson’s voice. For two days he had listened to these stories, and for two days he had dreamt up every possible way to get rid of Vincent and still have a chance to win the damn tournament.
“There’s always something going on that we don’t see.” Vincent guided the Explorer around another semi before continuing. “For this old German it was the weapons business he had, but he used the pastry business as a front. We all do it, Michael X, Jaice Wilds, and even you.” Vincent smiled as he caught the glare from Jayson out of the corner of his eye.
“Wow, way to state the obvious.” Jayson finally said, rolling his eyes hard.
“Yes it is a statement of the obvious but think for a moment, what don’t people actually focus on?” Vincent paused for dramatic effect. “They don’t think about that thing going on in the background. It’s like going to see a magician, we all know that they are distracting us, but only a very small few have the patience to look right when he says to look left.”
“So you want me to look right instead of left like Michael X is trying to get us to do?” Jayson asked, his mind locking onto what Vincent was saying.
“Exactly. At slam we expose the magician’s trick to the world, and we bring his assistant Jaice down with him.” Vincent smiled, finished his water. “But we have plenty of time to think about that. Right now we have to get you to Phoenix so you can make your flight, I have one later, and I’ll meet you there.” Vincent tossed the empty water bottle into the back seat and pushed the Explorer past 90 as they barreled towards Phoenix.
FOUR HOURS LATER IN THE PHOENIX AIRPORT
Vincent sat at gate B12, legs crossed, reading his book. Jayson’s flight had departed already and his wasn’t for another two hours, but he had something more pressing before his flight, and because of that he stood up and strode out of the terminal area to the passenger pick up area. There he took a seat on a bench and waited.
“Big win you had.” The small Asian woman took a seat next to him. “I see you take my advice and do things the Vincent way, not someone elses.” She smiled before tipping her coffee mug back and taking a sip of her tea.
“Herbal?” Vincent asked.
“Green.” She replied. “But you knew that, you just placate me don’t you?” She smiled.
“Guilty as charged.” Vincent replied. “Any advice for me this week?”
“Don’t lose.” The woman let out a chuckle then took a sip of her tea. “You would do well to mind the partner.” She finally said, her tone serious.
“Mine?” Vincent asked.
“Your opponents.” She replied.
“Jaice is why they lost last week, he’s the weak link.” Vincent replied.
“Beat you didn’t he?” The woman quipped back.
“Fair point. But it’s different this time around, he’s not getting in the ring with a broken man trying to pick his life up.” Vincent motioned for the coffee mug, the woman handed it over, and he took a deep swig, the liquid was like fire and he had to suppress a cough.
“It’s hot by the way.” The woman laughed as she took the mug back. “A different man you may be, but you are still broken my friend.”
“I’m on the mend, and for the first time in years I feel like myself.” Vincent smiled.
“How do you know?” She asked.
“Because this whole time your boy has been watching us from the car across the way. He’s doing a damn find job, but the white Buick slammed its door and he shuffled as it scared him.” Vincent didn’t smile, he just kept looking straight ahead.
“So you saw one thing out of millions.” The woman replied.
“How about the woman over there who is pregnant and waiting for her lover to return, or the airport police officer over there who is terrified to pull his gun or take any aggressive action. Maybe we could talk about the white guy in the black Lincoln at the other end of the parking lot that followed you here.” Vincent stopped and turned to the woman.
The old woman shot her gaze to the black Lincoln and her eyes went wide. “Dammit.” She muttered.
“Take you missed that one.” Vincent smiled, stood up and stretched. “I have a plane to catch.” With that he strode back into the airport and made his way through security. Back at gate B12 he took a seat and pulled out his book and began to read.
“Your name is Vincent Augustine!” A young man no more than 16 yelled as he ran over and took a seat next to Vincent. “Man this is like a dream come true, well I mean meeting someone like Odin would have been better but man your like a solid mid-level talent in the WCF.” The young man exclaimed.
“Thanks for the update. If you don’t mind I was in the middle of my book and have a flight to catch.” Vincent went back to reading the book.
“I’m Dylan.” The boy put his hand out, Vincent didn’t even respond. “Your Vincent yeah, um, so I have this like wrestling blog and would love it man if you let me ask you a few questions.”
“That’s the beautiful part, you can ask all the questions you want, what you should ask is if I would mind answering some of your questions.” Vincent replied, his eyes never leaving the book as he turned a page.
“Cool.” The boy replied. “How do you feel about your match chances with Michael X and Jaice Wilds?” Dylan asked as he set his phone to record.
“I feel like I’m playing the field and all the numbers on a craps table.” Vincent replied.
“What the hell does that mean? I don’t know how to play craps.” The boy replied.
“Such a shame, there in your hand is a small computer connected to the internet with the world’s information upon it, and yet you don’t know the answer.” Vincent said sarcastically, his eyes never leaving the book, and turning another page.
“You have recently lost one on one matches to both Jaice and Michael X, how does that effect you going into this match?” The boy asked.
“Let me tell you how much I am thinking about that. Have you ever taken a shit, stood up and wiped your ass but there was no shit on the toilet paper?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah I guess.” The boy replied.
“I care as much about my past matches as much as I care about reusing that toilet paper the next time I take a shit.” Vincent replied back, still reading his book and turning another page.
“But you just flush it, no one keeps it.” The boy quizzically replied.
“Exactly.”
“NOW BOARDING FLIGHT 1264 FOR CHARLOTTE NORTH CAROLINA AT GATE B12.” A voice boomed out over the intercoms in the airport.
“That’s me kid.” Vincent said as he put the book into his bag and stood up. “Good luck with the blog, and make sure you tune into Slam, I’m sure all the questions you have will be answered and they will all add up to one thing. Price and Vincent with 4 points!” With that Vincent flung his bag over his shoulder and walked for the woman taking the tickets for his flight.
“It’s a fucking ghost town.” Price stated, anger filling his voice. For two days they had been driving, and for two days he had listened to Vincent rumble on about everything and nothing all at the same god damn time. It was like riding with a woman, but then in a way it was free and Jayson really couldn’t afford to pass up a free ride at this point.
“I know, but check this out.” Vincent pointed to a sign just off to the west.
TOWN OF NOTHING ARIZONA. FOUNDED 1977. ELEVATION 3269FT.
The staunch citizens of Nothing are full of Hope, Faith, and Believe in the work ethic. Thru-the-years-these dedicated people had faith in Nothing, hoped for Nothing, worked at Nothing, for Nothing.
“I don’t get it.” Jayson said as he looked upon the excited Vincent.
“It’s us, or at least what everyone thinks we are. See the common misconception around the WCF is that we are nothing, born of nothing, working for nothing, and therefore we mean nothing. People mistake failure for belief in nothing, they don’t understand what the true meaning of nothing means, and in fact use it so liberally that they have convinced themselves they are right.” Vincent paused for a moment as he watched Price work through what he said.
“Kind of like the expression I could care less?” Jayson finally asked.
“Exactly!” Vincent exclaimed with excitement. “See people think that expression means they don’t care, but the actual meaning is that you care, but you just can’t care any less than you do. It’s not uncommon for people to think like this, usually because they were never taught any better.” Vincent walked back to the Explorer, Jayson pausing to linger at the sign a moment more before following.
“So what is your point?” Jayson asked.
“Let’s consider the word nothing and its definition.” Vincent slipped in the driver’s seat, Jayson into the passengers. “There are three common accepted definitions for the word nothing. First is ‘not anything,’ meaning no-thing, as in nonexistent. Second you have ‘no part’ as in hands off of the thing or situation. The third is ‘one of no interest or value’ and this is the one that trips most people up.” Vincent started the Explorer and guided it back onto highway US93.
“Meaning that if someone is nothing, why talk about them at length?” Jayson half asked and half stated as he put it all together. “You are referring to Michael X and his desperate need to make sure that he told the world that we are nothing, and will never be any more than nothing.” Jayson stated with a smile.
“Exactly. Truth is we mean so much to him that he had to go out of his way to discredit us at every turn possible. Deep down inside he knows what we know, that something wicked his way is coming, but to push down the flight response of fight or flight he has to mentally discredit us, but to do that he has to contradict himself.” Vincent grabbed his water from the cup holder and took a sip.
“So then how does this help us?” Jayson asked.
“When I was in Berlin I met this great little old man, owned a small little bakery on a corner. Made the best Baklava in the world, people came from all over Germany to get their hands on the fine pastries. But he had a secret, out of the back of his store he sold guns to rebels that wanted to overthrow the government. It was a shame when the German government took him away.” Vincent took another swig of his water and passed a semi on the small two lane highway.
“I don’t like riddles, please elaborate.” Frustration filled Jayson’s voice. For two days he had listened to these stories, and for two days he had dreamt up every possible way to get rid of Vincent and still have a chance to win the damn tournament.
“There’s always something going on that we don’t see.” Vincent guided the Explorer around another semi before continuing. “For this old German it was the weapons business he had, but he used the pastry business as a front. We all do it, Michael X, Jaice Wilds, and even you.” Vincent smiled as he caught the glare from Jayson out of the corner of his eye.
“Wow, way to state the obvious.” Jayson finally said, rolling his eyes hard.
“Yes it is a statement of the obvious but think for a moment, what don’t people actually focus on?” Vincent paused for dramatic effect. “They don’t think about that thing going on in the background. It’s like going to see a magician, we all know that they are distracting us, but only a very small few have the patience to look right when he says to look left.”
“So you want me to look right instead of left like Michael X is trying to get us to do?” Jayson asked, his mind locking onto what Vincent was saying.
“Exactly. At slam we expose the magician’s trick to the world, and we bring his assistant Jaice down with him.” Vincent smiled, finished his water. “But we have plenty of time to think about that. Right now we have to get you to Phoenix so you can make your flight, I have one later, and I’ll meet you there.” Vincent tossed the empty water bottle into the back seat and pushed the Explorer past 90 as they barreled towards Phoenix.
FOUR HOURS LATER IN THE PHOENIX AIRPORT
Vincent sat at gate B12, legs crossed, reading his book. Jayson’s flight had departed already and his wasn’t for another two hours, but he had something more pressing before his flight, and because of that he stood up and strode out of the terminal area to the passenger pick up area. There he took a seat on a bench and waited.
“Big win you had.” The small Asian woman took a seat next to him. “I see you take my advice and do things the Vincent way, not someone elses.” She smiled before tipping her coffee mug back and taking a sip of her tea.
“Herbal?” Vincent asked.
“Green.” She replied. “But you knew that, you just placate me don’t you?” She smiled.
“Guilty as charged.” Vincent replied. “Any advice for me this week?”
“Don’t lose.” The woman let out a chuckle then took a sip of her tea. “You would do well to mind the partner.” She finally said, her tone serious.
“Mine?” Vincent asked.
“Your opponents.” She replied.
“Jaice is why they lost last week, he’s the weak link.” Vincent replied.
“Beat you didn’t he?” The woman quipped back.
“Fair point. But it’s different this time around, he’s not getting in the ring with a broken man trying to pick his life up.” Vincent motioned for the coffee mug, the woman handed it over, and he took a deep swig, the liquid was like fire and he had to suppress a cough.
“It’s hot by the way.” The woman laughed as she took the mug back. “A different man you may be, but you are still broken my friend.”
“I’m on the mend, and for the first time in years I feel like myself.” Vincent smiled.
“How do you know?” She asked.
“Because this whole time your boy has been watching us from the car across the way. He’s doing a damn find job, but the white Buick slammed its door and he shuffled as it scared him.” Vincent didn’t smile, he just kept looking straight ahead.
“So you saw one thing out of millions.” The woman replied.
“How about the woman over there who is pregnant and waiting for her lover to return, or the airport police officer over there who is terrified to pull his gun or take any aggressive action. Maybe we could talk about the white guy in the black Lincoln at the other end of the parking lot that followed you here.” Vincent stopped and turned to the woman.
The old woman shot her gaze to the black Lincoln and her eyes went wide. “Dammit.” She muttered.
“Take you missed that one.” Vincent smiled, stood up and stretched. “I have a plane to catch.” With that he strode back into the airport and made his way through security. Back at gate B12 he took a seat and pulled out his book and began to read.
“Your name is Vincent Augustine!” A young man no more than 16 yelled as he ran over and took a seat next to Vincent. “Man this is like a dream come true, well I mean meeting someone like Odin would have been better but man your like a solid mid-level talent in the WCF.” The young man exclaimed.
“Thanks for the update. If you don’t mind I was in the middle of my book and have a flight to catch.” Vincent went back to reading the book.
“I’m Dylan.” The boy put his hand out, Vincent didn’t even respond. “Your Vincent yeah, um, so I have this like wrestling blog and would love it man if you let me ask you a few questions.”
“That’s the beautiful part, you can ask all the questions you want, what you should ask is if I would mind answering some of your questions.” Vincent replied, his eyes never leaving the book as he turned a page.
“Cool.” The boy replied. “How do you feel about your match chances with Michael X and Jaice Wilds?” Dylan asked as he set his phone to record.
“I feel like I’m playing the field and all the numbers on a craps table.” Vincent replied.
“What the hell does that mean? I don’t know how to play craps.” The boy replied.
“Such a shame, there in your hand is a small computer connected to the internet with the world’s information upon it, and yet you don’t know the answer.” Vincent said sarcastically, his eyes never leaving the book, and turning another page.
“You have recently lost one on one matches to both Jaice and Michael X, how does that effect you going into this match?” The boy asked.
“Let me tell you how much I am thinking about that. Have you ever taken a shit, stood up and wiped your ass but there was no shit on the toilet paper?” Vincent asked.
“Yeah I guess.” The boy replied.
“I care as much about my past matches as much as I care about reusing that toilet paper the next time I take a shit.” Vincent replied back, still reading his book and turning another page.
“But you just flush it, no one keeps it.” The boy quizzically replied.
“Exactly.”
“NOW BOARDING FLIGHT 1264 FOR CHARLOTTE NORTH CAROLINA AT GATE B12.” A voice boomed out over the intercoms in the airport.
“That’s me kid.” Vincent said as he put the book into his bag and stood up. “Good luck with the blog, and make sure you tune into Slam, I’m sure all the questions you have will be answered and they will all add up to one thing. Price and Vincent with 4 points!” With that Vincent flung his bag over his shoulder and walked for the woman taking the tickets for his flight.
