Post by Lawnmower Jones on Oct 17, 2011 15:02:14 GMT -5
(The Abraham Lincoln Hotel in Reading, Pennsylvania is the hotel WCF wrestlers stay at before shows. The WCF, which is headquartered in Reading, stations their wrestlers in the hotel, not because it’s top of the line, but quite the opposite. It’s a relatively cheap stay at the Lincoln, and the WCF gets discounted prices for the bulk of tenants they bring in. Since the WCF has stopped traveling (there was a brief experiment that failed miserably--popular rumors include a semi-prominent WCF wrestler going to the wrong Kansas City), all employees look into buying or renting homes in the area. Some wrestlers, however, perform for a litany of promotions, and don’t want to commit to the area. Others have families settled in different states. The less fortunate and established know that they could very well be let go within weeks, and it’s not worth the risk to make any long-term decisions. Yes, the Abe has housed an exorbitant amount of emotions, which always makes a night there worth watching.)
(In an effort to deal with coping, you will more often than not find a WCF wrestler at the hotel’s bar, Melody’s Tavern. Tonight, we see Jake Keeton.)
(Jake Keeton is sitting at one end of the bar, nearest to the picture, watching the highlights of the day’s Sportscenter. The TV is on mute, but we can see a feature of baseball’s playoffs is running. The bartender, a balding man wearing a bowtie, comes over to Keeton.)
Bartender: What would you like, sir?
Jake Keeton: Water.
Bartender: Anything else, sir?
(Keeton shakes his head. The bartender goes to fix Keeton a water.)
(At the opposite end of the bar, Lawnmower Jones appears. He motions to the bartender, and the bartender nods. The bartender hands Jones two beers. Jones slides one down to Keeton. Keeton, taken aback and in his own world, looks at the beer. He looks up at the bartender, who points to Jones. Jones has a snarling look on his face. This is how he looks naturally.)
(Keeton slides the beer back to Jones. Jones catches it in the palm of his hand and slides it right back to Keeton. Keeton tosses it back again, and Jones sends it back. The game continues a few more times until Jones walks over to Keeton.)
Lawnmower Jones: Whatsa matta, laddie? You on’t want me peace offrin?
Jake Keeton: I don’t drink.
Lawnmower Jones: What the ’ell? ’Ow can’t ya drink? ’Ow do ya stay hydrated? Alive? Are ya a wizard?
Jake Keeton: I don’t drink alcohol. Stopped long ago.
Lawnmower Jones: Aww, nobody likes a quitter, Keeton! Jones don’t feel no comfort in goin’ to a melee knowin’ ’is partner’s a quitter! I can’t trust a man who ain’t into the sauce! Just take the damn drink!
Jake Keeton: Me taking a drink has nothing to do with the damn match on Monday, Jones! You don’t need to worry about me at all! I’m always ready to come in and take care of business. In fact, that’s why I won my match last week in the very tournament for the title I never lost. You, on the other hand? Well, you lost your match and your title some time ago. Isn’t that right, Jones?
(Jones polishes off his beer. He signals for another to the bartender, and gets a Blue Moon.)
Lawnmower Jones: Two shots of the Gentleman Jack, too, Lad.
(The bartender brings the shots over.)
Lawnmower Jones: That damn clown ruined me match last week, Keeton! ’E’s a sneaky clown! Evil, even! And I faced ’Enry last week! ’E also tried fuckin’ with me mate Looogan a long time ago. Now, Jones ain’t neverrr shied away from no fight, Keeton. And, they might say Jones a bit dim in the dome! (Jones taps his finger to the side of his temple.) But I know fights--and Jones knows ’e won’t walk away without bein’ able to trust his partner. Jones seen what ya did to Deruty last week. Vicious. I’d of done the same thing!
Keeton eyeballs the shot of Jackson that Jones had placed in front of him, it'd been almost 5 years since he'd had a drop of alcohol but the temptation was enormous.
Keeton: It makes no difference to me if you walk away or security has to carry you away but if you trust me then you are as dim as people think.
With that said The All American Nightmare can fight the urges no more and downs the shot. He then proceeds to smash the empty shot glass against the side of Lawnmower Jones head. Jake then walks out of the hotel and sits down on a bench out front. He stares intensely into the camera and begins speaking.
Keeton: What I did last week was just a taste of what I'm capable of, the fans wanted to boo me so I gave them a reason. This week I team with that moron who's passed out at the bar to take on Doc Henry and Switches the Clown. This should be a walk in the park just like last week was. I've beaten Doc before and the clown is just that, a clown. Neither of them have any business stepping in the ring with me because I'm the best wrestler alive and week by week I'll continue to prove that, I'll win back the title I never lost at Helloween and when the time comes and the opportunity presents itself I'll become the WCF World Champion.
He stands up and walks back in the hotel as the scene fades to black.
(In an effort to deal with coping, you will more often than not find a WCF wrestler at the hotel’s bar, Melody’s Tavern. Tonight, we see Jake Keeton.)
(Jake Keeton is sitting at one end of the bar, nearest to the picture, watching the highlights of the day’s Sportscenter. The TV is on mute, but we can see a feature of baseball’s playoffs is running. The bartender, a balding man wearing a bowtie, comes over to Keeton.)
Bartender: What would you like, sir?
Jake Keeton: Water.
Bartender: Anything else, sir?
(Keeton shakes his head. The bartender goes to fix Keeton a water.)
(At the opposite end of the bar, Lawnmower Jones appears. He motions to the bartender, and the bartender nods. The bartender hands Jones two beers. Jones slides one down to Keeton. Keeton, taken aback and in his own world, looks at the beer. He looks up at the bartender, who points to Jones. Jones has a snarling look on his face. This is how he looks naturally.)
(Keeton slides the beer back to Jones. Jones catches it in the palm of his hand and slides it right back to Keeton. Keeton tosses it back again, and Jones sends it back. The game continues a few more times until Jones walks over to Keeton.)
Lawnmower Jones: Whatsa matta, laddie? You on’t want me peace offrin?
Jake Keeton: I don’t drink.
Lawnmower Jones: What the ’ell? ’Ow can’t ya drink? ’Ow do ya stay hydrated? Alive? Are ya a wizard?
Jake Keeton: I don’t drink alcohol. Stopped long ago.
Lawnmower Jones: Aww, nobody likes a quitter, Keeton! Jones don’t feel no comfort in goin’ to a melee knowin’ ’is partner’s a quitter! I can’t trust a man who ain’t into the sauce! Just take the damn drink!
Jake Keeton: Me taking a drink has nothing to do with the damn match on Monday, Jones! You don’t need to worry about me at all! I’m always ready to come in and take care of business. In fact, that’s why I won my match last week in the very tournament for the title I never lost. You, on the other hand? Well, you lost your match and your title some time ago. Isn’t that right, Jones?
(Jones polishes off his beer. He signals for another to the bartender, and gets a Blue Moon.)
Lawnmower Jones: Two shots of the Gentleman Jack, too, Lad.
(The bartender brings the shots over.)
Lawnmower Jones: That damn clown ruined me match last week, Keeton! ’E’s a sneaky clown! Evil, even! And I faced ’Enry last week! ’E also tried fuckin’ with me mate Looogan a long time ago. Now, Jones ain’t neverrr shied away from no fight, Keeton. And, they might say Jones a bit dim in the dome! (Jones taps his finger to the side of his temple.) But I know fights--and Jones knows ’e won’t walk away without bein’ able to trust his partner. Jones seen what ya did to Deruty last week. Vicious. I’d of done the same thing!
Keeton eyeballs the shot of Jackson that Jones had placed in front of him, it'd been almost 5 years since he'd had a drop of alcohol but the temptation was enormous.
Keeton: It makes no difference to me if you walk away or security has to carry you away but if you trust me then you are as dim as people think.
With that said The All American Nightmare can fight the urges no more and downs the shot. He then proceeds to smash the empty shot glass against the side of Lawnmower Jones head. Jake then walks out of the hotel and sits down on a bench out front. He stares intensely into the camera and begins speaking.
Keeton: What I did last week was just a taste of what I'm capable of, the fans wanted to boo me so I gave them a reason. This week I team with that moron who's passed out at the bar to take on Doc Henry and Switches the Clown. This should be a walk in the park just like last week was. I've beaten Doc before and the clown is just that, a clown. Neither of them have any business stepping in the ring with me because I'm the best wrestler alive and week by week I'll continue to prove that, I'll win back the title I never lost at Helloween and when the time comes and the opportunity presents itself I'll become the WCF World Champion.
He stands up and walks back in the hotel as the scene fades to black.
