Post by 'Jazzy' John McCarty on May 8, 2019 23:55:21 GMT -5
PROLOGUE
John: You know, when people say ‘happily ever after’, I say bullshit. There’s no such thing. Not everyone will get a happy ending. For every happy ending, there’s a bad one somewhere. So you know what I say? ‘You gotta work hard for that happy ending’. And I worked hard for that happy ending. I, along with a few of my friends, have built this building which stands behind me now.
John looks over the crowd in front of him and pulls out a pair of scissors from his back pocket. He blankly stares at the piece of ribbon in front of him, but quickly pulled himself out of that haze.
John: I hereby declare the new House of Blues… *snip*… open!
The crowd applauds as John opens the doors to the new House of Blues.
John: Feel free to take a look around the place. No drinks though, sadly. We had a shipment of the best liquor from Europe coming in, but that’s somewhere in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean now, and I’m pretty sure some homeless bum stole all the other alcohol.
As the eager audience shuffled into the house, John and Bert stayed behind.
Bert: Wow. You did it!
John: Not me. We. We did it.
Bert was very impressed by that. It was just a few months ago that John couldn’t accept that Bert was his friend.
Bert: Nah. It was your idea. You worked day and night on this bar. Heck, you gave up wrestling, just so you could build your beloved House of Blues. That’s why you’re the owner.
John: You know, Bert, you helped out too. And I recall you were the one who ordered all the drinks?
Bert: …yeah…
John: I wouldn’t have a clue on how to do that. And when the Bartender moved, who was there for me?
Bert: …me. About the Bartender…
John: …so Bert. I would like you to be co-owner of the House of Blues with me.
Bert <rushing>: Look, I’d love to but right now I need to tell you about something.
John: What?
Bert: Look.
Bert jerked his head toward the road, where he sees a car pulled up on the sidewalk. The car door opened, and there he was. In his old House of Blues uniform, it was…
Bartender: I wasn’t sure what to wear.
John: Bartender!
Bartender: I decided to move back to Louisiana after I heard the House of Blues was reopening.
John: Ah. Cool. How was South Dakota?
Bartender: Possibly the second-most boring state behind North Dakota.
John and the Bartender laugh a little bit before Bert enters the conversation.
Bert: So I managed to persuade the Bartender to come here and teach us some bartending skills. After all, I figured that it was going to take too long to learn ourselves and you wouldn’t want to hire a bartending mentor.
John: Bert, you know me so well! And nice to see you back, Bartender.
John and Bartender exchange one of those awkward handshake-hugs.
Bartender: Feels good to be back. Okay, John. Show me around the place! I wanna see what you’ve done to the place.
John: Okay. Follow me.
John, Bert and the Bartender then walk into the House of Blues, side by side.
THE MAIN BIT
The trio walked into the house with the rest of the crowd, and the Bartender was astonished.
John: Welcome to the new bar!
The bar, which was once a very traditional bar before it was burnt down, but now it had been given a modern makeover.
They had walked into a large room, the ceiling about 3 metres up, and it was about 15m wide and 30m long. Down each side of the room were booths. There was also a few round tables throughout the room, some with two chairs and some with four, but none were in the middle of the room. This was because through the middle of the room, there was some form of imaginary pathway. This went to the far end of the room, where the path split into two ways – left and right.
The back wall was one massive light, but it wasn’t bright. The whole wall had thin metallic shelves, but they were all empty. Of course, all the drinks would line up this wall, but they were all either at the bottom of the Atlantic or in the hands of some homeless bum.
In front of the wall (about a few metres so the bartenders had some room), a traditional wooden bar had been replaced with a marble laminate one, with a shade of blue LED coming from underneath the benchtop. The barstools had been replaced with more comfortable ones, which had also been pinned to the floor, so no-one could steal them. Of course, there were radios in the top corners of the room, playing smooth jazz.
John: This is the main room!
Bartender: Wow…
Bert: John thought up of all of this!
John: This is the dining area. Of course, this is where our professional chefs serve up some gourmet food.
Bartender: We have professional chefs?
John: Nope. We’ll get some soon, maybe. Fingers crossed. But anyways, this is the fancy bit of the bar, but the room on the right is completely new. Behold, the arcade.
Bert: This bit was my idea.
The Bartender was astonished to find a large room, similar in size to the main room, filled with games, much to the delight of the children.
John: This is where the parents banish their kids to when they want to be alone. Now there are some guidelines, no food or drink and no running. Ideally, I’m trying to avoid a Chuck E. Cheese’s situation here. Y’know. No vomit, shit or anything of the sort on the floor.
Bartender: What kind of games are in here?
John: All sorts. I sold my WCF Tag Team Championship belt to get some money for all these games. I mean, WCF weren’t using it anymore, and I still had it. They haven’t pulled me up for it yet.
Bartender: Have you told them that you sold one of their championship belts?
John: Nah… this is payback for kicking me out of the champion’s lounge.
Bert: John, that doesn’t exist.
John: Anyways, as I said, we have all sorts of games here. We have your classic arcade games…
John pointed at Digdug arcade machine, where a girl with long orange hair was playing the classic game.
Bartender: Have I seen her before somewhere?
John: And we have the claw machines… We get quite a fair bit of money.
John <whispers in bartender’s ear>: We rigged it. Like, rigged it more than the other arcades have rigged their machines.
Of course, the toys in the claw machine had lured the children to spend their money, all of them failed to catch that toy they wanted.
John: Hehehehe.
Bartender: Anything else?
John: Actually, we have a PlayStation 4 over there. More than one. I couldn’t get WCF 2K for the kids to play. Of course, the rating is too high and I want to try and avoid lawsuits, so I got some kid-friendly games, like NBA 2K, Madden, and Kingdom Hearts III.
Bert: Of course, games he likes.
Bartender: Ah, I didn’t take you as a Kingdom Hearts fan…
John: Ugh, I must admit. It’s a guilty pleasure.
John silently wept as he saw all the kids line up to play NBA or Madden, but no-one at the Kingdom Hearts station.
John: Anyways, all the magic is down the other end of the building. Follow me!
The Bartender followed Bert and John out of the arcade, through the main area and through another doorway.
Bartender: Let me guess, man cave area?
John: Ooh, close. Man cave is definitely what I was aiming for, but this is the sports bar. We don’t serve fancy drinks or fancy food here. We serve ordinary bar food and beers, rum, all that jazz.
Once again, the room was the same size as the main area, but it looked very different. Once again, the bar was at the back of the room, but instead of the flashy display of drinks, there were just fridges which would contain the drinks. Above the fridges, there were TVs, all showing different things. There were TVs showing all different sports lined above those fridges, the NBA playoffs, ice hockey, American football and baseball, but there was a big TV on the left wall, showing the latest WCF event, and of course, hyping up Endgame. There were also tables throughout the place, and a pinball machine.
John: This is where everyone comes to wind down, relax, and enjoy the sports with each other. Right now, we’ve got some WCF highlights on, and we’ve turned the sound on for that big TV, which means no annoying subtitles!
Bartender: Wow, John. I’m impressed.
John: Look down there!
The Bartender glanced towards the left, to see a bunch of men playing pool, and one table was dedicated to Shasta Pool?
John: So, what do you think?
Bartender: Impressive, John. I love it.
EPILOGUE
It was the end of the day, the sun had set and all the guests had eventually left the house, in what was truly a grand opening.
Eventually, Bert went upstairs and it was the situation that we all know and love. The Bartender had slung his towel over his shoulder and had begun making a gin-and-tonic for ‘Jazzy’ John McCarty, who was sitting on the barstool.
Bartender: So, big match coming up.
John: Yeah. WCF: Endgame! I haven’t wrestled for a while, so I need to polish up on my skills. But put all that aside, I need to talk shit about my opponents now.
Bartender: Go ahead.
The Bartender, as usual, mindlessly polished some nearby glasses (even though they hadn’t been used yet) as he half-mindedly listened to John’s rant.
John: Sadly, the WCF has come to an end. And the best-of-the-best have come together to put on an ultimate show. All the way from Alex Richards to Wade Moor, and even Logan’s in! It’s gonna be one helluva show. But, the match I’m in? It’s the match to determine the final ever WCF Television Champion. It’s a four way between myself, James Wolf, Matt Draven and current TV champion, Tempest Razum.
James Wolf. I’ve faced him a couple times. Yes, he may have beaten me a couple times, but I’ve just been off my game. Yes, I’ve said that many times before, but I’ll say it again. Usually, I’ll just admit defeat. Say that they were the better man. But I absolutely refuse to admit defeat to this man. Not sure if its just my ego, but I absolutely REFUSE to admit defeat to this man. I have no respect for him whatsoever. But if he can get the win tonight, I’ll give in.
But that’s not gonna happen, you see. I’m no fool. I learn from my mistakes. I know what moves and tricks you’re gonna pull.
And yes, you may have gotten a win against me. I guarantee you’re just gonna blow me off as some ‘worthless competitor’. But James, tell me about your last 3 matches?
3 matches ago, I got an easy win. That also happened to be my last match. That’s right, I ended on a high. What happened to you?
Singles loss.
The next week, you stumbled upon a hardcore title match. Aren’t you all about hardcore and stuff? Apparently not… Another loss.
And after that, despite consecutive losses, you found yourself in a TV Title match. And guess what? No surprises, just another loss.
And even after that, you complained and wept like a child. ‘It’s not fair’, ‘I’ll get revenge’. Ugh.
So what makes you think you’ll win here? You won’t. Your momentum has slowed you down. There’s no chance in hell that you’ll get a win.
Matt Draven, my dear friend. It only seems like yesterday that we won those Tag Team titles. And here we are, both in the same match, both going for the title, but we’re enemies in the ring this time. Yes, we could form a little alliance in the match, but in the end, there can only be one winner. It hurts me to say this, but I was always the one people came to watch. It was McCARTY and Draven. JAZZY JOHN and Matt. I’m just better.
And now the champ, Tempest Razum.
Who are you?
Weren’t you part of sacrificial cult? Aren’t you Noble Savage’s bitch? I don’t really know you, you’re just random girl in the background. Oooh, you’re big. Oooh, you’re the champ.
Oooh, you won the title in some dark match which never happened.
Really? When did it happen? I can’t find proof of you winning anywhere.
You think you’re such a big deal… ‘I’m the brawn of that circle thingy’. But if you ask some random on the street, do they know you exist?
Tempest Razum? ‘No’, they’ll say. ‘Never heard of her’. But then they hear the name ‘Jazzy John McCarty’, and they’ll say ‘I’ve heard of him’. ‘I know that guy’. I’m a household name, I’m a legend in Louisiana. But where are you a household name? Nowhere. Nobody knows you. Nobody cares.
But, since I had no idea what I was up against, I decided to head down to the WCF Louisiana HQ and do some research.
You have something which Wolf doesn’t – momentum.
But I couldn’t help but notice that most of your matches… have been the first match of the night.
So god knows how a curtain jerker like you managed to beat Teo Blaze (god knows what you did and how you won, none of us saw it), especially considering that your wins have come over the likes of Victorious Secret, Ultimate Destroyer and the Brothers of Anarchy. Don’t get me wrong, these wrestlers have some skill (except Victorious Secret) but it’s pretty easy to get wins over them.
But now you’re on your own. And you haven’t got one, not two, but three opponents vying for that championship. You’re not used to this kind of pressure. You might act tough, but you’re just gonna crumble.
James Wolf? Loser.
Matt Draven? Weak.
Tempest Razum? Inexperienced.
And the end of the night, at the end of Endgame, at the end of WCF, I’m gonna walk away with that championship.
You know what I say? You gotta work hard for that happy ending. WCF was a hard-working company, and they’re definitely getting the end they deserve. Now I’m gonna work hard, and I’m gonna get that happy ending.
I am going to be the final ever WCF Television Champion.
John: You know, when people say ‘happily ever after’, I say bullshit. There’s no such thing. Not everyone will get a happy ending. For every happy ending, there’s a bad one somewhere. So you know what I say? ‘You gotta work hard for that happy ending’. And I worked hard for that happy ending. I, along with a few of my friends, have built this building which stands behind me now.
John looks over the crowd in front of him and pulls out a pair of scissors from his back pocket. He blankly stares at the piece of ribbon in front of him, but quickly pulled himself out of that haze.
John: I hereby declare the new House of Blues… *snip*… open!
The crowd applauds as John opens the doors to the new House of Blues.
John: Feel free to take a look around the place. No drinks though, sadly. We had a shipment of the best liquor from Europe coming in, but that’s somewhere in the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean now, and I’m pretty sure some homeless bum stole all the other alcohol.
As the eager audience shuffled into the house, John and Bert stayed behind.
Bert: Wow. You did it!
John: Not me. We. We did it.
Bert was very impressed by that. It was just a few months ago that John couldn’t accept that Bert was his friend.
Bert: Nah. It was your idea. You worked day and night on this bar. Heck, you gave up wrestling, just so you could build your beloved House of Blues. That’s why you’re the owner.
John: You know, Bert, you helped out too. And I recall you were the one who ordered all the drinks?
Bert: …yeah…
John: I wouldn’t have a clue on how to do that. And when the Bartender moved, who was there for me?
Bert: …me. About the Bartender…
John: …so Bert. I would like you to be co-owner of the House of Blues with me.
Bert <rushing>: Look, I’d love to but right now I need to tell you about something.
John: What?
Bert: Look.
Bert jerked his head toward the road, where he sees a car pulled up on the sidewalk. The car door opened, and there he was. In his old House of Blues uniform, it was…
Bartender: I wasn’t sure what to wear.
John: Bartender!
Bartender: I decided to move back to Louisiana after I heard the House of Blues was reopening.
John: Ah. Cool. How was South Dakota?
Bartender: Possibly the second-most boring state behind North Dakota.
John and the Bartender laugh a little bit before Bert enters the conversation.
Bert: So I managed to persuade the Bartender to come here and teach us some bartending skills. After all, I figured that it was going to take too long to learn ourselves and you wouldn’t want to hire a bartending mentor.
John: Bert, you know me so well! And nice to see you back, Bartender.
John and Bartender exchange one of those awkward handshake-hugs.
Bartender: Feels good to be back. Okay, John. Show me around the place! I wanna see what you’ve done to the place.
John: Okay. Follow me.
John, Bert and the Bartender then walk into the House of Blues, side by side.
THE MAIN BIT
The trio walked into the house with the rest of the crowd, and the Bartender was astonished.
John: Welcome to the new bar!
The bar, which was once a very traditional bar before it was burnt down, but now it had been given a modern makeover.
They had walked into a large room, the ceiling about 3 metres up, and it was about 15m wide and 30m long. Down each side of the room were booths. There was also a few round tables throughout the room, some with two chairs and some with four, but none were in the middle of the room. This was because through the middle of the room, there was some form of imaginary pathway. This went to the far end of the room, where the path split into two ways – left and right.
The back wall was one massive light, but it wasn’t bright. The whole wall had thin metallic shelves, but they were all empty. Of course, all the drinks would line up this wall, but they were all either at the bottom of the Atlantic or in the hands of some homeless bum.
In front of the wall (about a few metres so the bartenders had some room), a traditional wooden bar had been replaced with a marble laminate one, with a shade of blue LED coming from underneath the benchtop. The barstools had been replaced with more comfortable ones, which had also been pinned to the floor, so no-one could steal them. Of course, there were radios in the top corners of the room, playing smooth jazz.
John: This is the main room!
Bartender: Wow…
Bert: John thought up of all of this!
John: This is the dining area. Of course, this is where our professional chefs serve up some gourmet food.
Bartender: We have professional chefs?
John: Nope. We’ll get some soon, maybe. Fingers crossed. But anyways, this is the fancy bit of the bar, but the room on the right is completely new. Behold, the arcade.
Bert: This bit was my idea.
The Bartender was astonished to find a large room, similar in size to the main room, filled with games, much to the delight of the children.
John: This is where the parents banish their kids to when they want to be alone. Now there are some guidelines, no food or drink and no running. Ideally, I’m trying to avoid a Chuck E. Cheese’s situation here. Y’know. No vomit, shit or anything of the sort on the floor.
Bartender: What kind of games are in here?
John: All sorts. I sold my WCF Tag Team Championship belt to get some money for all these games. I mean, WCF weren’t using it anymore, and I still had it. They haven’t pulled me up for it yet.
Bartender: Have you told them that you sold one of their championship belts?
John: Nah… this is payback for kicking me out of the champion’s lounge.
Bert: John, that doesn’t exist.
John: Anyways, as I said, we have all sorts of games here. We have your classic arcade games…
John pointed at Digdug arcade machine, where a girl with long orange hair was playing the classic game.
Bartender: Have I seen her before somewhere?
John: And we have the claw machines… We get quite a fair bit of money.
John <whispers in bartender’s ear>: We rigged it. Like, rigged it more than the other arcades have rigged their machines.
Of course, the toys in the claw machine had lured the children to spend their money, all of them failed to catch that toy they wanted.
John: Hehehehe.
Bartender: Anything else?
John: Actually, we have a PlayStation 4 over there. More than one. I couldn’t get WCF 2K for the kids to play. Of course, the rating is too high and I want to try and avoid lawsuits, so I got some kid-friendly games, like NBA 2K, Madden, and Kingdom Hearts III.
Bert: Of course, games he likes.
Bartender: Ah, I didn’t take you as a Kingdom Hearts fan…
John: Ugh, I must admit. It’s a guilty pleasure.
John silently wept as he saw all the kids line up to play NBA or Madden, but no-one at the Kingdom Hearts station.
John: Anyways, all the magic is down the other end of the building. Follow me!
The Bartender followed Bert and John out of the arcade, through the main area and through another doorway.
Bartender: Let me guess, man cave area?
John: Ooh, close. Man cave is definitely what I was aiming for, but this is the sports bar. We don’t serve fancy drinks or fancy food here. We serve ordinary bar food and beers, rum, all that jazz.
Once again, the room was the same size as the main area, but it looked very different. Once again, the bar was at the back of the room, but instead of the flashy display of drinks, there were just fridges which would contain the drinks. Above the fridges, there were TVs, all showing different things. There were TVs showing all different sports lined above those fridges, the NBA playoffs, ice hockey, American football and baseball, but there was a big TV on the left wall, showing the latest WCF event, and of course, hyping up Endgame. There were also tables throughout the place, and a pinball machine.
John: This is where everyone comes to wind down, relax, and enjoy the sports with each other. Right now, we’ve got some WCF highlights on, and we’ve turned the sound on for that big TV, which means no annoying subtitles!
Bartender: Wow, John. I’m impressed.
John: Look down there!
The Bartender glanced towards the left, to see a bunch of men playing pool, and one table was dedicated to Shasta Pool?
John: So, what do you think?
Bartender: Impressive, John. I love it.
EPILOGUE
It was the end of the day, the sun had set and all the guests had eventually left the house, in what was truly a grand opening.
Eventually, Bert went upstairs and it was the situation that we all know and love. The Bartender had slung his towel over his shoulder and had begun making a gin-and-tonic for ‘Jazzy’ John McCarty, who was sitting on the barstool.
Bartender: So, big match coming up.
John: Yeah. WCF: Endgame! I haven’t wrestled for a while, so I need to polish up on my skills. But put all that aside, I need to talk shit about my opponents now.
Bartender: Go ahead.
The Bartender, as usual, mindlessly polished some nearby glasses (even though they hadn’t been used yet) as he half-mindedly listened to John’s rant.
John: Sadly, the WCF has come to an end. And the best-of-the-best have come together to put on an ultimate show. All the way from Alex Richards to Wade Moor, and even Logan’s in! It’s gonna be one helluva show. But, the match I’m in? It’s the match to determine the final ever WCF Television Champion. It’s a four way between myself, James Wolf, Matt Draven and current TV champion, Tempest Razum.
James Wolf. I’ve faced him a couple times. Yes, he may have beaten me a couple times, but I’ve just been off my game. Yes, I’ve said that many times before, but I’ll say it again. Usually, I’ll just admit defeat. Say that they were the better man. But I absolutely refuse to admit defeat to this man. Not sure if its just my ego, but I absolutely REFUSE to admit defeat to this man. I have no respect for him whatsoever. But if he can get the win tonight, I’ll give in.
But that’s not gonna happen, you see. I’m no fool. I learn from my mistakes. I know what moves and tricks you’re gonna pull.
And yes, you may have gotten a win against me. I guarantee you’re just gonna blow me off as some ‘worthless competitor’. But James, tell me about your last 3 matches?
3 matches ago, I got an easy win. That also happened to be my last match. That’s right, I ended on a high. What happened to you?
Singles loss.
The next week, you stumbled upon a hardcore title match. Aren’t you all about hardcore and stuff? Apparently not… Another loss.
And after that, despite consecutive losses, you found yourself in a TV Title match. And guess what? No surprises, just another loss.
And even after that, you complained and wept like a child. ‘It’s not fair’, ‘I’ll get revenge’. Ugh.
So what makes you think you’ll win here? You won’t. Your momentum has slowed you down. There’s no chance in hell that you’ll get a win.
Matt Draven, my dear friend. It only seems like yesterday that we won those Tag Team titles. And here we are, both in the same match, both going for the title, but we’re enemies in the ring this time. Yes, we could form a little alliance in the match, but in the end, there can only be one winner. It hurts me to say this, but I was always the one people came to watch. It was McCARTY and Draven. JAZZY JOHN and Matt. I’m just better.
And now the champ, Tempest Razum.
Who are you?
Weren’t you part of sacrificial cult? Aren’t you Noble Savage’s bitch? I don’t really know you, you’re just random girl in the background. Oooh, you’re big. Oooh, you’re the champ.
Oooh, you won the title in some dark match which never happened.
Really? When did it happen? I can’t find proof of you winning anywhere.
You think you’re such a big deal… ‘I’m the brawn of that circle thingy’. But if you ask some random on the street, do they know you exist?
Tempest Razum? ‘No’, they’ll say. ‘Never heard of her’. But then they hear the name ‘Jazzy John McCarty’, and they’ll say ‘I’ve heard of him’. ‘I know that guy’. I’m a household name, I’m a legend in Louisiana. But where are you a household name? Nowhere. Nobody knows you. Nobody cares.
But, since I had no idea what I was up against, I decided to head down to the WCF Louisiana HQ and do some research.
You have something which Wolf doesn’t – momentum.
But I couldn’t help but notice that most of your matches… have been the first match of the night.
So god knows how a curtain jerker like you managed to beat Teo Blaze (god knows what you did and how you won, none of us saw it), especially considering that your wins have come over the likes of Victorious Secret, Ultimate Destroyer and the Brothers of Anarchy. Don’t get me wrong, these wrestlers have some skill (except Victorious Secret) but it’s pretty easy to get wins over them.
But now you’re on your own. And you haven’t got one, not two, but three opponents vying for that championship. You’re not used to this kind of pressure. You might act tough, but you’re just gonna crumble.
James Wolf? Loser.
Matt Draven? Weak.
Tempest Razum? Inexperienced.
And the end of the night, at the end of Endgame, at the end of WCF, I’m gonna walk away with that championship.
You know what I say? You gotta work hard for that happy ending. WCF was a hard-working company, and they’re definitely getting the end they deserve. Now I’m gonna work hard, and I’m gonna get that happy ending.
I am going to be the final ever WCF Television Champion.
