Post by Johnny Reb on Jun 14, 2009 22:32:39 GMT -5
Early afternoon sunlight streams in through open blinds, spilling into the living room and washing everything in radiance. The light is reflected in fiery brilliance from the sofa, where Johnny Reb sits, bathed in the glow of his GWC title as he buffs out a slight smudge. Dixie saunters down the stairs, her hair still slightly damp from a shower.
Dixie:
Johnny, I think you can stop now. You could signal jets with that thing.
Johnny stops what he’s doing to grin at her. He sets the belt almost reverently on the coffee table and puts aside the cloth he was using.
Johnny:
Now, darlin’, you know I can’t help bein’ just a little bit proud of this.
He gestures at the belt as he rises from the couch and moves toward her.
Dixie:
As well you should be. But you got other concerns.
Reb shakes his head dismissively as he puts an arm around her shoulders.
Johnny:
What? Dake Ken? I ain’t worried ‘bout him.
Dixie pulls away to look him directly in the eye.
Dixie:
Be serious, Johnny. He’s the number one contender for a reason.
Johnny:
I am serious, darlin’. Just ‘cause Seth Lerch threw him in a contendership match don’t mean he’s championship material. I’ve beaten him before; I’ll do it again.
Dixie rolls her eyes at him.
Dixie:
Confidence is one thing, Johnny Reb… But Dake Ken is gunnin’ for Torture, an’ I reckon he’s gonna step up his game for you.
Reb gives her an easy, self-assured smile.
Johnny:
Oh, I’m countin’ on that, Dixie. Number one pretender or not, Dake Ken ain’t ready to deal with Torture. Right now, that bastard is the least of his worries anyway. He’s gotta get through me, an’ I ain’t exactly plannin’ on makin’ it easy for him.
She smiles back at him, in spite of her previous admonition.
Dixie:
D’you really think Mr. Lerch will give you another shot at Torture, after you win this week?
He shrugs, and, deciding he wants a drink, beckons to Dixie to follow as he makes his way toward the kitchen.
Johnny:
I don’t see why he wouldn’t.
Reb ventures into the kitchen and pulls down two glasses from a cabinet over the sink, pouring liberally from a bottle of Black Label SoCo. He emerges within seconds, passing one glass to Dixie.
Dixie:
An’ if he does?
Johnny takes a sip of his drink and looks at her for several moments, his expression hardening.
Johnny:
If he does, I’m gonna make that son of a bitch Torture sorry he put his filthy goddamned hands on you last week.
Dixie smirks at him from behind the glass as she raises it to her lips.
Dixie:Good. Now, finish that so we can catch our flight.
Dixie:
Johnny, I think you can stop now. You could signal jets with that thing.
Johnny stops what he’s doing to grin at her. He sets the belt almost reverently on the coffee table and puts aside the cloth he was using.
Johnny:
Now, darlin’, you know I can’t help bein’ just a little bit proud of this.
He gestures at the belt as he rises from the couch and moves toward her.
Dixie:
As well you should be. But you got other concerns.
Reb shakes his head dismissively as he puts an arm around her shoulders.
Johnny:
What? Dake Ken? I ain’t worried ‘bout him.
Dixie pulls away to look him directly in the eye.
Dixie:
Be serious, Johnny. He’s the number one contender for a reason.
Johnny:
I am serious, darlin’. Just ‘cause Seth Lerch threw him in a contendership match don’t mean he’s championship material. I’ve beaten him before; I’ll do it again.
Dixie rolls her eyes at him.
Dixie:
Confidence is one thing, Johnny Reb… But Dake Ken is gunnin’ for Torture, an’ I reckon he’s gonna step up his game for you.
Reb gives her an easy, self-assured smile.
Johnny:
Oh, I’m countin’ on that, Dixie. Number one pretender or not, Dake Ken ain’t ready to deal with Torture. Right now, that bastard is the least of his worries anyway. He’s gotta get through me, an’ I ain’t exactly plannin’ on makin’ it easy for him.
She smiles back at him, in spite of her previous admonition.
Dixie:
D’you really think Mr. Lerch will give you another shot at Torture, after you win this week?
He shrugs, and, deciding he wants a drink, beckons to Dixie to follow as he makes his way toward the kitchen.
Johnny:
I don’t see why he wouldn’t.
Reb ventures into the kitchen and pulls down two glasses from a cabinet over the sink, pouring liberally from a bottle of Black Label SoCo. He emerges within seconds, passing one glass to Dixie.
Dixie:
An’ if he does?
Johnny takes a sip of his drink and looks at her for several moments, his expression hardening.
Johnny:
If he does, I’m gonna make that son of a bitch Torture sorry he put his filthy goddamned hands on you last week.
Dixie smirks at him from behind the glass as she raises it to her lips.
Dixie:Good. Now, finish that so we can catch our flight.
