Post by Doc Henry on Jul 11, 2011 11:15:00 GMT -5
Doc Henry is sitting in a bar in down town Reading. It's a seedy place, full of the vicious and bloodthirsty. Many glances are made Doc's way as he nurses a bottle of Jack Daniels. However, none of the men in the bar are willing to approach him. These are the same men who rape and kill hopped up on PCP. Sure grouped together they could take Doc, but frankly, they are scared shitless of him.
A man dressed in dark clothes with a hood pulled over his head sits next to Doc. After a hushed conversation, and a trading of Manila envelopes, the figure rises and leaves. Doc finishes his whisky and stands up. As he is halfway through the bar, a large brute of a man stands in his way, his courage obviously bolstered by copious amounts of alcohol and cocaine. "All right, I know who you are, and I don't care. This bar belongs to Micky, and you are no longer welcome." The man grabs Doc's collar to emphasize his point.
Doc simply looks at the man's hand and back into his face, "No, you have that wrong. You can tell Micky that the bar is now mine, and he has to pay me rent and security fees. If'n he wants to know why, then you can tell him it's all because of your big dumb ass sticking your nose where it don't belong." Without warning, Doc kicks the man in the pills with the point of his boot. As he bends over in excruciating pain, Doc grabs him by the back of his collar and belt, before spinning and throwing him head and shoulders first into the juke box. As the music stops and the man and juke box go crashing to the floor, the rest of the patrons turn to see what is happening.
Doc removes his hat and saddlecoat, placing them on a table. With slow and deliberate strides, he makes his way to the fallen hulk, rolling his sleeves up in the process. "Ya see Roy, you messed with the wrong guy this time." Doc drops to one knee and grabs him by his greasy hair. "Now, pay attention, OK daisy?" When the man doesn't answer right away, Doc punches him square in the face, "I'll make this as short and painless as needed, but you may find it to be the longest and most painful experience of your life. Do try to stay conscious long enough to enjoy all the sensations your about to feel."
*PUNCH*
"Roy, you've done nothing but run your damn mouth. Hell, anyone can puff up their chest and boast about being able to effectively kick ass."
*PUNCH*
"I don't know how many times I have to say it, but me being proud of my ancestors is about heritage, not hate. Hell, Roy, if all I do is beat up on minorities and faggots, then you must fit both of those to a tee, because your next on my shit list."
*PUNCH*
"The reason I drove that fast, wasn't due to recklessness and stupidity. No I drive that fast regularly, because I'm that damn good. Call me a redneck all you want bitch. The fact is, I'm a refined southern man of privilege and high education. The only thing I'm incapable of is... Well nothing."
*PUNCH*
"You've let that bulldog mouth overrun your puppy dog ass a little too much Speedy. Your right though, I don't hold a candle to 'the Silver Lining', I hold a fucking supernova. So, I'm gonna be in Hell tonight? I am the master of Hell, it's my fucking domain bitch!"
*PUNCH*
"Bring your 'shitload' beating, cause it's obvious the only beating your good at is beating off. Your a pathetic excuse for a Virginian. The only thing you'll do at Slam is get your shoulders pinned."
*PUNCH*
"Keep running your mouth, it's all your good at. We all know that it doesn't matter what you say, but what you DO in the ring that matters. Am I supposed to be impressed? A barbed wire ropes match? Please, that's pussy shit. I've been in two Clockwork Orange House of Fun matches, TLC matches, Ladder matches, Hardcore matches, cage matches, and even a Dogpound match. I've gone into the ring against the greats in this business, the Tortures, and the Slickie T's, and each time I held my own and pushed them to their limits. I am no old man Roy, I'm just reaching my prime."
*PUNCH*
"You are facing a monster in the ring the likes you have never seen before. Don't worry though, your soul will be well taken care of, as it's tortured til the end of time by the most vicious demons I command."
Doc punches the man a final time, and stands up licking the blood off his knuckles. Grabbing his hat and coat, he walks to the bar. "Tell Micky that I'll be here on the first of every month, and he better have my $5,000 ready. If not, I'll collect it however I see fit." As the barkeep nods, Doc walks out of the bar, and into the sunlight...
***************
Voiceover: The men in the bar never called the authorities, as their friend was on the verge of dieing. Micky wasn't pleased to find out that he no longer ran his bar, or even the town of Reading. No, the Devil had come to town and souls were being collected. The man that Doc beat down ended up bleeding to death on the floor, and no one ever spoke of his dumbass again...
A man dressed in dark clothes with a hood pulled over his head sits next to Doc. After a hushed conversation, and a trading of Manila envelopes, the figure rises and leaves. Doc finishes his whisky and stands up. As he is halfway through the bar, a large brute of a man stands in his way, his courage obviously bolstered by copious amounts of alcohol and cocaine. "All right, I know who you are, and I don't care. This bar belongs to Micky, and you are no longer welcome." The man grabs Doc's collar to emphasize his point.
Doc simply looks at the man's hand and back into his face, "No, you have that wrong. You can tell Micky that the bar is now mine, and he has to pay me rent and security fees. If'n he wants to know why, then you can tell him it's all because of your big dumb ass sticking your nose where it don't belong." Without warning, Doc kicks the man in the pills with the point of his boot. As he bends over in excruciating pain, Doc grabs him by the back of his collar and belt, before spinning and throwing him head and shoulders first into the juke box. As the music stops and the man and juke box go crashing to the floor, the rest of the patrons turn to see what is happening.
Doc removes his hat and saddlecoat, placing them on a table. With slow and deliberate strides, he makes his way to the fallen hulk, rolling his sleeves up in the process. "Ya see Roy, you messed with the wrong guy this time." Doc drops to one knee and grabs him by his greasy hair. "Now, pay attention, OK daisy?" When the man doesn't answer right away, Doc punches him square in the face, "I'll make this as short and painless as needed, but you may find it to be the longest and most painful experience of your life. Do try to stay conscious long enough to enjoy all the sensations your about to feel."
*PUNCH*
"Roy, you've done nothing but run your damn mouth. Hell, anyone can puff up their chest and boast about being able to effectively kick ass."
*PUNCH*
"I don't know how many times I have to say it, but me being proud of my ancestors is about heritage, not hate. Hell, Roy, if all I do is beat up on minorities and faggots, then you must fit both of those to a tee, because your next on my shit list."
*PUNCH*
"The reason I drove that fast, wasn't due to recklessness and stupidity. No I drive that fast regularly, because I'm that damn good. Call me a redneck all you want bitch. The fact is, I'm a refined southern man of privilege and high education. The only thing I'm incapable of is... Well nothing."
*PUNCH*
"You've let that bulldog mouth overrun your puppy dog ass a little too much Speedy. Your right though, I don't hold a candle to 'the Silver Lining', I hold a fucking supernova. So, I'm gonna be in Hell tonight? I am the master of Hell, it's my fucking domain bitch!"
*PUNCH*
"Bring your 'shitload' beating, cause it's obvious the only beating your good at is beating off. Your a pathetic excuse for a Virginian. The only thing you'll do at Slam is get your shoulders pinned."
*PUNCH*
"Keep running your mouth, it's all your good at. We all know that it doesn't matter what you say, but what you DO in the ring that matters. Am I supposed to be impressed? A barbed wire ropes match? Please, that's pussy shit. I've been in two Clockwork Orange House of Fun matches, TLC matches, Ladder matches, Hardcore matches, cage matches, and even a Dogpound match. I've gone into the ring against the greats in this business, the Tortures, and the Slickie T's, and each time I held my own and pushed them to their limits. I am no old man Roy, I'm just reaching my prime."
*PUNCH*
"You are facing a monster in the ring the likes you have never seen before. Don't worry though, your soul will be well taken care of, as it's tortured til the end of time by the most vicious demons I command."
Doc punches the man a final time, and stands up licking the blood off his knuckles. Grabbing his hat and coat, he walks to the bar. "Tell Micky that I'll be here on the first of every month, and he better have my $5,000 ready. If not, I'll collect it however I see fit." As the barkeep nods, Doc walks out of the bar, and into the sunlight...
***************
Voiceover: The men in the bar never called the authorities, as their friend was on the verge of dieing. Micky wasn't pleased to find out that he no longer ran his bar, or even the town of Reading. No, the Devil had come to town and souls were being collected. The man that Doc beat down ended up bleeding to death on the floor, and no one ever spoke of his dumbass again...
