That place that day with the stuff and the things
Feb 24, 2019 10:31:38 GMT -5
Bonnie Blue likes this
Post by Vincent Augustine on Feb 24, 2019 10:31:38 GMT -5
SOME PARK IN SOME PLACE WITH SOME SNOW 02/21/2019
Snow danced through the air, gently landing on the ground and melting almost immediately. Here and there the flakes caught the jacket of someone walking by, most moving so quick that the flakes were pushed aside to hit the ground. But one man sat on the park bench, watching the hustle of people trying to get out of the weather, scurrying around trying to better their lives in the moment.
When you really think about it, it is amazing. Just look at the people, moving from point A to point B, their lives ticking off on an endless cycle, the only external force to them is the weather. Clearly most of them were ill prepared for the snow, and yet a simple watch of the news this morning, or a scan of any weather app on a phone would have told them what they needed before heading out the door, but then that would have required a bit of effort. Actions like those require that for one moment we as people, or them as a person, must set aside our self-indulgent belief that we are the greatest and most almighty and acquiesce to the fact we from time to time need help from someone else.
Let’s float the idea for a minute that in fact Bonnie Blue was right, I am some form of an assassin. Ask yourself, at what point did I say I was an assassin? Yeah you can’t remember, because it never happened, never did I say I was an assassin, and yet, Bonnie felt she needed to talk rather extensively about the subject. See it’s not because she wanted so much to bring me down, no, Bonnie needed to build me up, she had to hedge the bets, because she was afraid of me, worried about me. If I beat her, she understood it would be devastating, so she needed to make the possibility palpable.
But then entered her friend John and we all know what he did. The captain of misinformation and misdirection did just that. Do you really think the medical files for a company like WCF would be that easy to get too? Come on, anyone with half a brain can see how hard John is trying, and for what it’s worth he is really normally damn good at his job of misinformation, but then every once in a while we all kind of have a dud moment.
But I’m not here to bring down Bonnie, in fact if you remember from just last week I had almost nothing but nice things to say about the woman, and at Slam we went to the limit. Let’s face it there wasn’t much left in the tank for Bonnie, she had to make a move of desperation to get the win, and well it was hard earned. I doubt it would have possibly even in the slightest been taxing enough to slow her down from the big title match at the Pay per view, then again, if it did she wouldn’t let any of us know, it’s a pride thing. I’d put money she moves on like slam never happened. Why wouldn’t she want to move on, the show right before her big match she nearly lost to a guy that well, everyone has said is nothing week after week, and that is not the kind of thing you talk about the week of a big title match.
Vincent stood up off the bench, stretched his back, and started walking. The snow was coming down much thicker, the flakes the size of quarters, and it had begun to stick to the ground. Most people had abandoned the walking path as the snow began to build, it was nearly an inch of accumulation on the walk path at this point, and Vincent just strode along. Each step came with a crunch, and left behind the perfect imprint of his shoes tread.
Back there, that is where we will leave Bonnie and Rabid for now. Let’s move on to the most important thing on our agenda this week, Jayson Price. How ironic, a man known for getting screwed over got, screwed over. I’d say it was kind of sad, but at this point who didn’t really see it coming? I mean every week Jayson does something to push himself up, he does something that he truly believes will get him the heat he needs to be back in the main event, and every week someone he trusts screws him over. You know, they say stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome, well Jayson how’s that going for you?
Now I’m sure he will answer in due time, probably with some long winded sit down speech telling us all how great he is, how shit I am and how much he’s going to love getting his revenge at Till Death do us Part. Sad part is we will all watch it and all of us will fall the fuck asleep halfway through, and then out of sheer sadness for his boring ass will all tell him we loved it and it was great. Ok maybe we won’t tell him directly but we will make sure that it gets around that we loved it and it was a great long winded promo.
Vincent stopped, turned his head to the sky and allowed the flakes to float down and land on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glancing around the area, the cold wind burning his lungs. Dropping his head back down, Vincent stared at the camera a moment and smiled before walking again.
No matter the outcome of Till Death Do Us Part, Jayson will forever be changed, his life upended, all because he thought he could use me to get what he wanted. All of his accomplishments, all of the accolades, and the downfall of Jayson price will be some nobody, a nothing, that guy that we don’t even remember his name. Because that is what I do, I’m no assassin, no, I’m the guy that you didn’t know what there, the guy that you thought was a nobody sitting on the bench, I’m the guy that ruins you and you don’t even know how he did it.
Vincent gave the camera a subtle wink before pivoting and walking away. Vincent made a straight line for a white car on the side of the road just outside the park. He slipped into the back, and the car pulled out into the snow and disappeared.
02/21/2019 SOMEWHERE ELSE, NOT A PARK THOUGH
The white Malibu came to a stop in a small parking lot on the outskirts of town. In front the familiar old Asian woman turned back to look at Vincent. “You get ass kicked by girl last week, look real man like.” She let out a laugh and slapped the steering wheel; her son in the passenger seat began to laugh as well. “For man so observant you no see her come with move that beat you!” Both of them again laughed at the woman’s comments.
“ENOUGH!” Vincent exploded from the back. “Do you have something for me, or are you going to just sit around telling jokes and waste my god damn time?” Vincent’s frustration was boiling out of him, week in and week out this woman treated him like god damn garbage, and if he had his way he would drop her like a rock pulling him down in the ocean.
“Un bunch panties mister assassin man.” More laughter from the front, Vincent just shook his head. “Crazy girl actually think you assassin, she must never met you.” Again a burst of laughter from the two in the front of the car.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, can we just get on with this?” Vincent sat back in the backseat.
“Here you go mister killer assassin man, the information you needed.” The woman passed a brown envelope to the back seat. “It all goes down in like two week, so make sure you have everything in order.” The woman smiled at Vincent.
“That’s what I have you for, I want this whole thing to go smooth, and I need no one to know it was me who made the purchase, got it?” Vincent slipped the envelope into his jacket and slipped out of the car. The snow was coming down even harder, the visibility was nor more than 20ft at this point, conditions nearing white out.
Vincent heard the window roll down behind him, but there was no visual on the car. “You mind Price, he not afraid to be dirty to win; you pay attention mister assassin man!” The woman yelled through the falling snow. It was immediate followed by laughter and the sound of the car driving off.
Vincent lowered his head, giving a slight shake as he strode off through the snow, each step coming with a crunch. But something was off; he heard not just the crunch of his own feet, but the crunch of another pair of feet. Vincent stopped, knelt down and slid back a bit; the crunches were coming closer, getting louder with each step. After long minute Vincent saw the source of the noise, a young man in a tweed coat with a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand. Vincent shook his head and stood up.
“You are slipping.” The words floated into Vincent’s ear from behind him.
“It would appear so.” Vincent didn’t move, he had recognized Ryan’s voice the moment the man began to speak. “What can I do for you?”
“Did you like the surprise I left for you?” Ryan asked, as if Vincent was supposed to know what he was talking about.
“I’m not sure, did you leave it in the hotel I was staying in, or the one you thought I was staying in?” Ryan spun Vincent around at his question.
“I made sure it made it to the god damn important people that make decisions about the WCF.” Ryan smiled as he saw that Vincent knew what he meant.
“So you gave out my Agency file.” Vincent let his shoulders fall a moment and then smiled. “Thanks for putting that out for me, had I done it on my own, whew that would have probably been met with a lot of skepticism. What you probably should do is ask who gave you the idea, or did it really come to you all on your own?” Vincent smile and walked off, Ryan left to ponder what he said.
It is amazing how many people think they are where they are by their own volition. But if for just five minutes out of every day, you opened your eyes you would see what I see. No one truly knows who is pulling the strings, they are too blind to see the reality, and for the WCF reality, that is you are all where I want you to be, and you all see what I want you to see. So keep looking closely, keep your eyes on what is going on, but know that you will never see anything more than what I want, and I will always be two steps ahead of you. Because in the end it all adds up to one thing, I am in more control than you want.
Snow danced through the air, gently landing on the ground and melting almost immediately. Here and there the flakes caught the jacket of someone walking by, most moving so quick that the flakes were pushed aside to hit the ground. But one man sat on the park bench, watching the hustle of people trying to get out of the weather, scurrying around trying to better their lives in the moment.
When you really think about it, it is amazing. Just look at the people, moving from point A to point B, their lives ticking off on an endless cycle, the only external force to them is the weather. Clearly most of them were ill prepared for the snow, and yet a simple watch of the news this morning, or a scan of any weather app on a phone would have told them what they needed before heading out the door, but then that would have required a bit of effort. Actions like those require that for one moment we as people, or them as a person, must set aside our self-indulgent belief that we are the greatest and most almighty and acquiesce to the fact we from time to time need help from someone else.
Let’s float the idea for a minute that in fact Bonnie Blue was right, I am some form of an assassin. Ask yourself, at what point did I say I was an assassin? Yeah you can’t remember, because it never happened, never did I say I was an assassin, and yet, Bonnie felt she needed to talk rather extensively about the subject. See it’s not because she wanted so much to bring me down, no, Bonnie needed to build me up, she had to hedge the bets, because she was afraid of me, worried about me. If I beat her, she understood it would be devastating, so she needed to make the possibility palpable.
But then entered her friend John and we all know what he did. The captain of misinformation and misdirection did just that. Do you really think the medical files for a company like WCF would be that easy to get too? Come on, anyone with half a brain can see how hard John is trying, and for what it’s worth he is really normally damn good at his job of misinformation, but then every once in a while we all kind of have a dud moment.
But I’m not here to bring down Bonnie, in fact if you remember from just last week I had almost nothing but nice things to say about the woman, and at Slam we went to the limit. Let’s face it there wasn’t much left in the tank for Bonnie, she had to make a move of desperation to get the win, and well it was hard earned. I doubt it would have possibly even in the slightest been taxing enough to slow her down from the big title match at the Pay per view, then again, if it did she wouldn’t let any of us know, it’s a pride thing. I’d put money she moves on like slam never happened. Why wouldn’t she want to move on, the show right before her big match she nearly lost to a guy that well, everyone has said is nothing week after week, and that is not the kind of thing you talk about the week of a big title match.
Vincent stood up off the bench, stretched his back, and started walking. The snow was coming down much thicker, the flakes the size of quarters, and it had begun to stick to the ground. Most people had abandoned the walking path as the snow began to build, it was nearly an inch of accumulation on the walk path at this point, and Vincent just strode along. Each step came with a crunch, and left behind the perfect imprint of his shoes tread.
Back there, that is where we will leave Bonnie and Rabid for now. Let’s move on to the most important thing on our agenda this week, Jayson Price. How ironic, a man known for getting screwed over got, screwed over. I’d say it was kind of sad, but at this point who didn’t really see it coming? I mean every week Jayson does something to push himself up, he does something that he truly believes will get him the heat he needs to be back in the main event, and every week someone he trusts screws him over. You know, they say stupidity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different outcome, well Jayson how’s that going for you?
Now I’m sure he will answer in due time, probably with some long winded sit down speech telling us all how great he is, how shit I am and how much he’s going to love getting his revenge at Till Death do us Part. Sad part is we will all watch it and all of us will fall the fuck asleep halfway through, and then out of sheer sadness for his boring ass will all tell him we loved it and it was great. Ok maybe we won’t tell him directly but we will make sure that it gets around that we loved it and it was a great long winded promo.
Vincent stopped, turned his head to the sky and allowed the flakes to float down and land on his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, glancing around the area, the cold wind burning his lungs. Dropping his head back down, Vincent stared at the camera a moment and smiled before walking again.
No matter the outcome of Till Death Do Us Part, Jayson will forever be changed, his life upended, all because he thought he could use me to get what he wanted. All of his accomplishments, all of the accolades, and the downfall of Jayson price will be some nobody, a nothing, that guy that we don’t even remember his name. Because that is what I do, I’m no assassin, no, I’m the guy that you didn’t know what there, the guy that you thought was a nobody sitting on the bench, I’m the guy that ruins you and you don’t even know how he did it.
Vincent gave the camera a subtle wink before pivoting and walking away. Vincent made a straight line for a white car on the side of the road just outside the park. He slipped into the back, and the car pulled out into the snow and disappeared.
02/21/2019 SOMEWHERE ELSE, NOT A PARK THOUGH
The white Malibu came to a stop in a small parking lot on the outskirts of town. In front the familiar old Asian woman turned back to look at Vincent. “You get ass kicked by girl last week, look real man like.” She let out a laugh and slapped the steering wheel; her son in the passenger seat began to laugh as well. “For man so observant you no see her come with move that beat you!” Both of them again laughed at the woman’s comments.
“ENOUGH!” Vincent exploded from the back. “Do you have something for me, or are you going to just sit around telling jokes and waste my god damn time?” Vincent’s frustration was boiling out of him, week in and week out this woman treated him like god damn garbage, and if he had his way he would drop her like a rock pulling him down in the ocean.
“Un bunch panties mister assassin man.” More laughter from the front, Vincent just shook his head. “Crazy girl actually think you assassin, she must never met you.” Again a burst of laughter from the two in the front of the car.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, can we just get on with this?” Vincent sat back in the backseat.
“Here you go mister killer assassin man, the information you needed.” The woman passed a brown envelope to the back seat. “It all goes down in like two week, so make sure you have everything in order.” The woman smiled at Vincent.
“That’s what I have you for, I want this whole thing to go smooth, and I need no one to know it was me who made the purchase, got it?” Vincent slipped the envelope into his jacket and slipped out of the car. The snow was coming down even harder, the visibility was nor more than 20ft at this point, conditions nearing white out.
Vincent heard the window roll down behind him, but there was no visual on the car. “You mind Price, he not afraid to be dirty to win; you pay attention mister assassin man!” The woman yelled through the falling snow. It was immediate followed by laughter and the sound of the car driving off.
Vincent lowered his head, giving a slight shake as he strode off through the snow, each step coming with a crunch. But something was off; he heard not just the crunch of his own feet, but the crunch of another pair of feet. Vincent stopped, knelt down and slid back a bit; the crunches were coming closer, getting louder with each step. After long minute Vincent saw the source of the noise, a young man in a tweed coat with a cup of steaming hot coffee in hand. Vincent shook his head and stood up.
“You are slipping.” The words floated into Vincent’s ear from behind him.
“It would appear so.” Vincent didn’t move, he had recognized Ryan’s voice the moment the man began to speak. “What can I do for you?”
“Did you like the surprise I left for you?” Ryan asked, as if Vincent was supposed to know what he was talking about.
“I’m not sure, did you leave it in the hotel I was staying in, or the one you thought I was staying in?” Ryan spun Vincent around at his question.
“I made sure it made it to the god damn important people that make decisions about the WCF.” Ryan smiled as he saw that Vincent knew what he meant.
“So you gave out my Agency file.” Vincent let his shoulders fall a moment and then smiled. “Thanks for putting that out for me, had I done it on my own, whew that would have probably been met with a lot of skepticism. What you probably should do is ask who gave you the idea, or did it really come to you all on your own?” Vincent smile and walked off, Ryan left to ponder what he said.
It is amazing how many people think they are where they are by their own volition. But if for just five minutes out of every day, you opened your eyes you would see what I see. No one truly knows who is pulling the strings, they are too blind to see the reality, and for the WCF reality, that is you are all where I want you to be, and you all see what I want you to see. So keep looking closely, keep your eyes on what is going on, but know that you will never see anything more than what I want, and I will always be two steps ahead of you. Because in the end it all adds up to one thing, I am in more control than you want.
