Post by JasonCash on Jul 6, 2019 0:54:42 GMT -5
It was night time on Sin Island. This was a time when the bright lights of the cities came on and people came out. This was when money was made, some in less than legal ways. It wasn't called Sin Island for nothing. All of the humanly wants could be gotten at night there.
A fairly large man sat in a crowded club. He stuck out like a green, rotting, gangrenous thumb on an otherwise healthy body. Where the other patrons wore bright clothing, this man wore blue jeans, a black shirt, and a cowboy hat. Where everyone else danced to sounds of Panic at the Disco, this man looked more comfortable with George Jones.
He sat at the bar, drinking from a brown bottle. If the rainbow colors that flashed and blinked bothered him, no one could tell. He'd been keeping to himself since he's arrived.
He'd came in and ordered beer after beer with a few shots of whiskey between. People came up and said hello, but they were ignored.
This was “Blue Paradise”. It wasn't exactly the kind of place this particular cowboy visited often. In fact, he only entered the joint because hed run out of beer as he walked around the city.
The man was,of course, Jason Cash. He'd only been there for a few minutes, yet there were four empty bottles in front of him and he was about to add a fifth.
Jason finished in one large gulp.
“Hey lady. More beer.” Jason said as he spit on the floor.
The bartender may have looked like a woman, but he wasn't. He was a womanly looking man with short brown hair, a neon green shirt that was tied at the bottom and very tight pants.
“Keep calling me lady, sugar, and I'm gonna have to let you make a woman out of me.” The bartender said with a smile.
Jason's ears perked up. Its been almost a full twelve hours since he gotten with a cute flight attendant. But then he was distracted by the beer that had been set in front of him.
“What's your name sweetie?” The bartender asked.
Jason gulped down some beer. “Cash.”
“Like Johnny Cash? I'm Jonathan. My friends call me Johnny.” The bartender said before placing another beer in front of our hillbilly hero.
Jason heard the name and nearly spit out his drink. He probably would have but Jason Cash was never one to waste good beer.
He didn't say anything. He simply grabbed his two beers and went to stand up but stopped when he noticed a bit of attention hed been getting.
“What's a sexy cowboy like you doing in a place like this?” A small man dressed in a yellow shirt asked.
Jason didn't have time to answer before the taller man in blue asked, “Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
Jason swallowed his beer rather than spitting it out.
“Naw. That's just my dick.” Jason answered.
“Is that extra beer mine?” That same man asked.
“Naw uh uh.” Jason said as he quickly finished both beers.
“I thought country boys were nice.” The blonde man added after the two were turned down. His eyes drifted toward Jasons crotch.
“I thought men dressed like sumbitchin men too, but here y'all are. Lookin like y'all done broke into yer sisters closet. The hell you dressed like ‘at mess anyway?” Jason asked.
All three guys started laughing.
“Did you bother taking a look around when you stumbled in? This is a gay bar, Cash” Jonathan said as he gave Jason another beer.
“Y'all got beer, right? I don't sumbitchin care if one man lays with another man. I'm just here ta damn it drank. Just leave me alone and y'all gone be just fine.” Jason took a large gulp of his beer and sat back down.
There was a tap on his shoulder.
“I don't care if you're a sexy redneck. We weren't done.” Said the guy in the yellow shirt.
Jason smiled to himself before turning up his beer. He turned and quickly slapped yellow shirt across the face, breaking the bottle. Blood sprayed from the gash the glass had caused. Yellow shirt fell in a heap while his friend kneeled down to check on him.
“You could have killed him!” The taller man yelled.
Jason's fists were clenched. He was ready to fight anyone.
“I sumbitchin damn it told y'all ta leave me alone. This mess is on y'all.” Jason yelled in his own defense.
Jonathan grabbed Jason's shoulder. Cash quickly turned around, catching Jonathan with a right hand that knocked him over the bar. He walked back behind the bar and got himself a fresh bottle of beer.
“Y'all sumbitches wanna damn it fight?! I like it!” Jason yelled. “Fuck it. I'm gone piss on y'all.”
Jason turned up his fresh beer as he unzipped his pants and began to piss on yellow shirt.
“Y'all wanted ta see it! Well here it sumbitchin is!” Jason laughed.
He was grabbed from behind by a skinny bouncer in a black shirt. Jason kicked the bouncer in the balls before hitting him with an empty beer bottle.
“Jason Cash!”
Jason stopped his attack.
“What in the shit you want?” Jason asked before taking a gulp of beer.
“Actually. You.”
The voice was deep yet professional. This was Zaslaw. Mayor of Sin Island. He was a smaller man who had an air of power about him. Nothing happened on the island without him knowing it. He'd known about this scuffled as well but wanted to watch it play out.
“Everybody back on up. Mr. Cash here is my guest. I'm not saying I'll have anyone who gives him a problem arrested...Weve seen what he can do.” Zaslaw laughed.
“Shit. Y'all damn near made me spill my sumbitchin beer.” Jason said with a smile.
“Mre Cash. My name is Zaslaw. I run this island.” Zaslaw started.
By this time, a crowd had formed around the scene. Neither man cared. Jason went back and got himself a new beer.
“So you the President or some shit? Aight. What the shit you want with me?” Jason asked between gulps.
“It's simple. I want you to destroy Duke Koslov. Do that for me and you get whatever you want.” Zaslaw told Jason
Our hero thought for a moment.
“But don't I git whatever the shit I want if I whoop ‘is ass anyway?” Jason asked.
Zaslaw smiled nervously.
“Well. Yes.” Zaslaw admired.
“Can I see her titties?” Jason asked.
He pointed to a very large woman with short hair and fat rolls that seemed to go on for days. She was a very hard to look at woman. Her short hair was greasy. Her teeth were yellow and she had a weird hooked nose. She looked like shed eaten the wicked witch of the west.
“Hey! Dumplin!” Jason yelled as he pointed.
“Me?” She asked.
“Yeah! Show me them titties!” Jason laughed.
Zaslaw intervened before the ugly broad could object.
“Mr. Cash...if you could come with me to one of my gentleman's clubs, I could show you all the titties you want to see.” Zaslaw smiled.
Jason shook his head.
“She gone be there? Naw uh uh she ain't. I wanna seem THEM titties. Thems the titties I wanna damn it see..right now.” Jason laughed.
“I'm definitely not going to be showing a creep like you my breasts.”
Jason couldn't help but laugh very loudly as he stumbled to grab a fifth of jack Daniels from behind the bar.
“Listen, Dumpy. You perty damn lucky anybody wantin ta see them fun bags. I bet you get yer nipples stuck ‘tween yer sumbitchin toes every time you let them hogs loose.” Jason laughed.
The fat woman, we're going to call her dumplin, didn't take kindly to what Jason had said. She was as proud as she was handsome.
“You got some nerve.” She started.
“And you got some short an curlies stuck in her teeth, baby girl.” Jason laughed.
He would have continued had Zaslaw not intervened.
“Mr. Cash. Id really like to take you to one of my clubs to discuss things further. I could use a guy like you to help bring more attention to Sin Island.” Zaslaw said.
Jason spit tobacco on the floor, disgusting everyone in the room.
“Y'all got good drank?” Jason asked.
Zaslaw nodded.
“Hold on.” Jason started.
He walked behind the bar. Jonathan was still there, laying on the floor. Blood poured from an open wound across his forehead.
“Hey lady...er...guy. Y'all seen an ole boy named Marcus Clarke round here? This here looks like his type of place.” Jason asked.
Jonathan shook his head.
“He's from celestial.” Zaslaw answered.
Jason laughed.
“He sure is. That ole boy look like he played with too damn many dolls when he was a boy if you know what I mean.”.
Zaslaw cocked an eyebrow.
“That sumbitch look like he the catcher.” Jason laughed as he took a drink straight from the whiskey bottle.
No one laughed.
“He looks like one of the poor sumbitches what goes to them glory holes but he's the one waiting for the Johnson to come through the hole in the wall.” Jason laughed again.
“Are you trying to say that he looks gay?” Jonathan asked, finally on his feet.
Jason Cash cocked his eyebrow at Jonathan.
“Shit naw. You trying ta say I'm homophobic? I ain't. I done told y'all sumbitches I don't care bout what y'all wanna do. Just stay away from my dick and my butthole and we be good.” Jason laughed.
“Get that sexy redneck out of here!” Came a voice from the crowd that had gathered around them.
“Aight. Let's go see some good titties. Dumpy over yonder ain't showin me a damn thang.” Jason finished the whiskey, threw the bottle against the wall and pushed his way out of the club.
Part Two…..
Beer flowed like wine at “The Gentleman's Club”. Yes it was a very boring name but it was not a boring place. Erik Black made sure of that. This was his place, after all. The women were the most hooker looking women one could possibly imagine. It snowed cocaine. The place had three stages for dancing while there were six cages where women would have sex with each other for entertainment purposes.
He'd put Zaslaw in charge of running the place. He'd stop by every once in a while to make sure things were going and running smoothly. They always were. Zaslaw made sure of that. Erik may have been a fun loving guy, but he could snap and kill an entire room full of people in the blink of an eye.
“Shake that ass baby!” Came the voice of one Jason Cash.
He sat front row watching as a tanned skinned beauty shook her very plump ass at his face. The place was packed. There were men and women wall to wall, barely enough room to walk.
Jason sat at a table. There were empty beer bottles covering the table. To his right was Zaslaw.
“So all you have to do is take out Duke.” Zaslaw said between puffs of a cigar.
“I git that mess, but don't I already git whatever the hell I want anyway? You tryin mighty damn hard ta git my ass on her side. You ain't. You know…” Jason said before making a wobbly gesture with his right hand.
Zaslaw appeared to be quite appalled but shook it off.
“No. Of course not. I just want what's best for Sin Island.” Zaslaw admitted.
Jason seemed to be thinking it over.
“Damn it all to sumbitchin hell. Aight. I'll do 'at mess. Just shut the hell up. Ya botherin me.” Jason said as he watched that same tanned dancer take her yellow thong off.
“I'm empty.” He added.
Chapter three….
Jason Cash sat on a broken down, brown couch with stains all over it. This thing looked like a troll shit it out. On the broken coffee table sat a bottle of whisky (half gone). In his hand was a black guitar.
“So I been gittin’ settled in fer quite a little bit. Good drank. Good whiskey. People are weird as a git out, but that Zaslaw feller seems like he's good people.
Hey Marcus. I wrote a song bout you. Y'all sumbitches out there in tv world wanna here it? I thought so!” Jason laughed before taking a drink from the bottle.
He started to strum the guitar to the tune of George Jones’ Tennessee Whiskey.
“You're as stupid, as all hell.
You're as dumb, as a box of wine.
You gone get boots, shoved up that ass
And I'll get drunk, while whooping your ass..all night looooooonnnggg.”
Jason spit tobacco on the floor and grinded.
“Y'all like 'at mess? I call it “I'm goin knee deep in asshole cause yer a Bitch.”. Damn good name if ya ask me.
Now Marcus. I ain't gone pretend that I know anythang about you. I don't. I'd read yer bio, but I can't read too good. I never made it past third grade. Had ta drop out when I was twenty. Well. I got kicked out fer fightin all the damn time. But that don't matter here, do it? Naw. Uh uh. It don't. Only thang what matters here is me an you. And boy, I'm just guessing here. Yo ass might be a lady. I don't know. Shit gettin confusin these days. I'm ramblin, ain't I? I ramble when I'm drunk. By the way, I'm always drunk.
See I'm the kinda sumbitch what shows up drunk, fights, goes home ta get more drunk. Doctor said I had an alcohol problem. Shit. Only alcohol problem I ever have is when I ain't got none. But like I said. I git good an drunk. And I put boots to asses. That's right. I do. Been doin at mess fer as long as I can remember. Just the way I am. Fightin is what I'm good as hell at. I don't do them fancy floppy dos an what not like 'em Mexicans do All the time. An I ain't never been one ta grind my dick on ya till ya quit neither. Naw. I just whoop ass with these two hands. Cause I'm a sumbitchin man I am. Ain't no need for none of 'at fancy bullshit when you got a set of balls. Them balls make you a man, boy. When you a man, you don't need none of 'at fancy mess. Just headbutt a big ole boy directly in his nose. 'Ats all ya damn it need right there. Now. I ain't sayin I'm gone do 'at shit ta you. I ain't. Naw. I'm gone spit in yer face, kick ya in yer teeth, and pin ya. After that, I'm gone piss on yer face. Call it my callin card. It's what I do when I beat the Holy hell outa a sumbitch like you. I pee on ya, son. An don't thank I'm just sayin 'at shit neither. When I say I'm gone piss on yer face, by God, I'm gone take my dick out...and I'm gone piss on yer face, son. I reckon you thank that's nasty but it don't matter. You gotta grow a set ta stop it. Both of us know 'at mess ain't gonna happen. Yes too busy tryin ta be a princess or some shit. That's yes nickname, right? Princess Party? Shit, son. You done lost already an we ain't even started.”
Jason turned up the bottle, gulping down the contents.
“Shit son. This gone be the first match fer both of us here in aiw. Wow. You really done pissed off them three presidents, ain't ya. Shit. Nobody deserves the start of their career to be against me. That shits gone be yer first an last fight. Done got throwed to the dogs, ya have. Can't say I blame 'em. You looked in the mirror lately? You look in like yes name should be Christina. Them three presidents what run this place prolly don't like 'at mess. That's why they throwed you away like they did. Damn shame too. You look in like you wanna go to one of them beauty pageants. Can't win them pageants with two legs knee deep in yer butthole. I'm talking legs so deep I kicked yersteeth out from the inside. That mess hurts too. Wouldn't wanna be in her shoes, son. But somebody gotta get they as whooped an it sure as hell ain't gone be me. Naw. Uh uh. Not this dude. That one leaves you, son. I'd say I'm sorry but I ain't.”
Jason laughed and then started strumming again.
“And be a whooped ass man.
Be somethin. You know you understand.
Be a Bitch. Be a Bitch you know you are man.”
Fade.
A fairly large man sat in a crowded club. He stuck out like a green, rotting, gangrenous thumb on an otherwise healthy body. Where the other patrons wore bright clothing, this man wore blue jeans, a black shirt, and a cowboy hat. Where everyone else danced to sounds of Panic at the Disco, this man looked more comfortable with George Jones.
He sat at the bar, drinking from a brown bottle. If the rainbow colors that flashed and blinked bothered him, no one could tell. He'd been keeping to himself since he's arrived.
He'd came in and ordered beer after beer with a few shots of whiskey between. People came up and said hello, but they were ignored.
This was “Blue Paradise”. It wasn't exactly the kind of place this particular cowboy visited often. In fact, he only entered the joint because hed run out of beer as he walked around the city.
The man was,of course, Jason Cash. He'd only been there for a few minutes, yet there were four empty bottles in front of him and he was about to add a fifth.
Jason finished in one large gulp.
“Hey lady. More beer.” Jason said as he spit on the floor.
The bartender may have looked like a woman, but he wasn't. He was a womanly looking man with short brown hair, a neon green shirt that was tied at the bottom and very tight pants.
“Keep calling me lady, sugar, and I'm gonna have to let you make a woman out of me.” The bartender said with a smile.
Jason's ears perked up. Its been almost a full twelve hours since he gotten with a cute flight attendant. But then he was distracted by the beer that had been set in front of him.
“What's your name sweetie?” The bartender asked.
Jason gulped down some beer. “Cash.”
“Like Johnny Cash? I'm Jonathan. My friends call me Johnny.” The bartender said before placing another beer in front of our hillbilly hero.
Jason heard the name and nearly spit out his drink. He probably would have but Jason Cash was never one to waste good beer.
He didn't say anything. He simply grabbed his two beers and went to stand up but stopped when he noticed a bit of attention hed been getting.
“What's a sexy cowboy like you doing in a place like this?” A small man dressed in a yellow shirt asked.
Jason didn't have time to answer before the taller man in blue asked, “Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
Jason swallowed his beer rather than spitting it out.
“Naw. That's just my dick.” Jason answered.
“Is that extra beer mine?” That same man asked.
“Naw uh uh.” Jason said as he quickly finished both beers.
“I thought country boys were nice.” The blonde man added after the two were turned down. His eyes drifted toward Jasons crotch.
“I thought men dressed like sumbitchin men too, but here y'all are. Lookin like y'all done broke into yer sisters closet. The hell you dressed like ‘at mess anyway?” Jason asked.
All three guys started laughing.
“Did you bother taking a look around when you stumbled in? This is a gay bar, Cash” Jonathan said as he gave Jason another beer.
“Y'all got beer, right? I don't sumbitchin care if one man lays with another man. I'm just here ta damn it drank. Just leave me alone and y'all gone be just fine.” Jason took a large gulp of his beer and sat back down.
There was a tap on his shoulder.
“I don't care if you're a sexy redneck. We weren't done.” Said the guy in the yellow shirt.
Jason smiled to himself before turning up his beer. He turned and quickly slapped yellow shirt across the face, breaking the bottle. Blood sprayed from the gash the glass had caused. Yellow shirt fell in a heap while his friend kneeled down to check on him.
“You could have killed him!” The taller man yelled.
Jason's fists were clenched. He was ready to fight anyone.
“I sumbitchin damn it told y'all ta leave me alone. This mess is on y'all.” Jason yelled in his own defense.
Jonathan grabbed Jason's shoulder. Cash quickly turned around, catching Jonathan with a right hand that knocked him over the bar. He walked back behind the bar and got himself a fresh bottle of beer.
“Y'all sumbitches wanna damn it fight?! I like it!” Jason yelled. “Fuck it. I'm gone piss on y'all.”
Jason turned up his fresh beer as he unzipped his pants and began to piss on yellow shirt.
“Y'all wanted ta see it! Well here it sumbitchin is!” Jason laughed.
He was grabbed from behind by a skinny bouncer in a black shirt. Jason kicked the bouncer in the balls before hitting him with an empty beer bottle.
“Jason Cash!”
Jason stopped his attack.
“What in the shit you want?” Jason asked before taking a gulp of beer.
“Actually. You.”
The voice was deep yet professional. This was Zaslaw. Mayor of Sin Island. He was a smaller man who had an air of power about him. Nothing happened on the island without him knowing it. He'd known about this scuffled as well but wanted to watch it play out.
“Everybody back on up. Mr. Cash here is my guest. I'm not saying I'll have anyone who gives him a problem arrested...Weve seen what he can do.” Zaslaw laughed.
“Shit. Y'all damn near made me spill my sumbitchin beer.” Jason said with a smile.
“Mre Cash. My name is Zaslaw. I run this island.” Zaslaw started.
By this time, a crowd had formed around the scene. Neither man cared. Jason went back and got himself a new beer.
“So you the President or some shit? Aight. What the shit you want with me?” Jason asked between gulps.
“It's simple. I want you to destroy Duke Koslov. Do that for me and you get whatever you want.” Zaslaw told Jason
Our hero thought for a moment.
“But don't I git whatever the shit I want if I whoop ‘is ass anyway?” Jason asked.
Zaslaw smiled nervously.
“Well. Yes.” Zaslaw admired.
“Can I see her titties?” Jason asked.
He pointed to a very large woman with short hair and fat rolls that seemed to go on for days. She was a very hard to look at woman. Her short hair was greasy. Her teeth were yellow and she had a weird hooked nose. She looked like shed eaten the wicked witch of the west.
“Hey! Dumplin!” Jason yelled as he pointed.
“Me?” She asked.
“Yeah! Show me them titties!” Jason laughed.
Zaslaw intervened before the ugly broad could object.
“Mr. Cash...if you could come with me to one of my gentleman's clubs, I could show you all the titties you want to see.” Zaslaw smiled.
Jason shook his head.
“She gone be there? Naw uh uh she ain't. I wanna seem THEM titties. Thems the titties I wanna damn it see..right now.” Jason laughed.
“I'm definitely not going to be showing a creep like you my breasts.”
Jason couldn't help but laugh very loudly as he stumbled to grab a fifth of jack Daniels from behind the bar.
“Listen, Dumpy. You perty damn lucky anybody wantin ta see them fun bags. I bet you get yer nipples stuck ‘tween yer sumbitchin toes every time you let them hogs loose.” Jason laughed.
The fat woman, we're going to call her dumplin, didn't take kindly to what Jason had said. She was as proud as she was handsome.
“You got some nerve.” She started.
“And you got some short an curlies stuck in her teeth, baby girl.” Jason laughed.
He would have continued had Zaslaw not intervened.
“Mr. Cash. Id really like to take you to one of my clubs to discuss things further. I could use a guy like you to help bring more attention to Sin Island.” Zaslaw said.
Jason spit tobacco on the floor, disgusting everyone in the room.
“Y'all got good drank?” Jason asked.
Zaslaw nodded.
“Hold on.” Jason started.
He walked behind the bar. Jonathan was still there, laying on the floor. Blood poured from an open wound across his forehead.
“Hey lady...er...guy. Y'all seen an ole boy named Marcus Clarke round here? This here looks like his type of place.” Jason asked.
Jonathan shook his head.
“He's from celestial.” Zaslaw answered.
Jason laughed.
“He sure is. That ole boy look like he played with too damn many dolls when he was a boy if you know what I mean.”.
Zaslaw cocked an eyebrow.
“That sumbitch look like he the catcher.” Jason laughed as he took a drink straight from the whiskey bottle.
No one laughed.
“He looks like one of the poor sumbitches what goes to them glory holes but he's the one waiting for the Johnson to come through the hole in the wall.” Jason laughed again.
“Are you trying to say that he looks gay?” Jonathan asked, finally on his feet.
Jason Cash cocked his eyebrow at Jonathan.
“Shit naw. You trying ta say I'm homophobic? I ain't. I done told y'all sumbitches I don't care bout what y'all wanna do. Just stay away from my dick and my butthole and we be good.” Jason laughed.
“Get that sexy redneck out of here!” Came a voice from the crowd that had gathered around them.
“Aight. Let's go see some good titties. Dumpy over yonder ain't showin me a damn thang.” Jason finished the whiskey, threw the bottle against the wall and pushed his way out of the club.
Part Two…..
Beer flowed like wine at “The Gentleman's Club”. Yes it was a very boring name but it was not a boring place. Erik Black made sure of that. This was his place, after all. The women were the most hooker looking women one could possibly imagine. It snowed cocaine. The place had three stages for dancing while there were six cages where women would have sex with each other for entertainment purposes.
He'd put Zaslaw in charge of running the place. He'd stop by every once in a while to make sure things were going and running smoothly. They always were. Zaslaw made sure of that. Erik may have been a fun loving guy, but he could snap and kill an entire room full of people in the blink of an eye.
“Shake that ass baby!” Came the voice of one Jason Cash.
He sat front row watching as a tanned skinned beauty shook her very plump ass at his face. The place was packed. There were men and women wall to wall, barely enough room to walk.
Jason sat at a table. There were empty beer bottles covering the table. To his right was Zaslaw.
“So all you have to do is take out Duke.” Zaslaw said between puffs of a cigar.
“I git that mess, but don't I already git whatever the hell I want anyway? You tryin mighty damn hard ta git my ass on her side. You ain't. You know…” Jason said before making a wobbly gesture with his right hand.
Zaslaw appeared to be quite appalled but shook it off.
“No. Of course not. I just want what's best for Sin Island.” Zaslaw admitted.
Jason seemed to be thinking it over.
“Damn it all to sumbitchin hell. Aight. I'll do 'at mess. Just shut the hell up. Ya botherin me.” Jason said as he watched that same tanned dancer take her yellow thong off.
“I'm empty.” He added.
Chapter three….
Jason Cash sat on a broken down, brown couch with stains all over it. This thing looked like a troll shit it out. On the broken coffee table sat a bottle of whisky (half gone). In his hand was a black guitar.
“So I been gittin’ settled in fer quite a little bit. Good drank. Good whiskey. People are weird as a git out, but that Zaslaw feller seems like he's good people.
Hey Marcus. I wrote a song bout you. Y'all sumbitches out there in tv world wanna here it? I thought so!” Jason laughed before taking a drink from the bottle.
He started to strum the guitar to the tune of George Jones’ Tennessee Whiskey.
“You're as stupid, as all hell.
You're as dumb, as a box of wine.
You gone get boots, shoved up that ass
And I'll get drunk, while whooping your ass..all night looooooonnnggg.”
Jason spit tobacco on the floor and grinded.
“Y'all like 'at mess? I call it “I'm goin knee deep in asshole cause yer a Bitch.”. Damn good name if ya ask me.
Now Marcus. I ain't gone pretend that I know anythang about you. I don't. I'd read yer bio, but I can't read too good. I never made it past third grade. Had ta drop out when I was twenty. Well. I got kicked out fer fightin all the damn time. But that don't matter here, do it? Naw. Uh uh. It don't. Only thang what matters here is me an you. And boy, I'm just guessing here. Yo ass might be a lady. I don't know. Shit gettin confusin these days. I'm ramblin, ain't I? I ramble when I'm drunk. By the way, I'm always drunk.
See I'm the kinda sumbitch what shows up drunk, fights, goes home ta get more drunk. Doctor said I had an alcohol problem. Shit. Only alcohol problem I ever have is when I ain't got none. But like I said. I git good an drunk. And I put boots to asses. That's right. I do. Been doin at mess fer as long as I can remember. Just the way I am. Fightin is what I'm good as hell at. I don't do them fancy floppy dos an what not like 'em Mexicans do All the time. An I ain't never been one ta grind my dick on ya till ya quit neither. Naw. I just whoop ass with these two hands. Cause I'm a sumbitchin man I am. Ain't no need for none of 'at fancy bullshit when you got a set of balls. Them balls make you a man, boy. When you a man, you don't need none of 'at fancy mess. Just headbutt a big ole boy directly in his nose. 'Ats all ya damn it need right there. Now. I ain't sayin I'm gone do 'at shit ta you. I ain't. Naw. I'm gone spit in yer face, kick ya in yer teeth, and pin ya. After that, I'm gone piss on yer face. Call it my callin card. It's what I do when I beat the Holy hell outa a sumbitch like you. I pee on ya, son. An don't thank I'm just sayin 'at shit neither. When I say I'm gone piss on yer face, by God, I'm gone take my dick out...and I'm gone piss on yer face, son. I reckon you thank that's nasty but it don't matter. You gotta grow a set ta stop it. Both of us know 'at mess ain't gonna happen. Yes too busy tryin ta be a princess or some shit. That's yes nickname, right? Princess Party? Shit, son. You done lost already an we ain't even started.”
Jason turned up the bottle, gulping down the contents.
“Shit son. This gone be the first match fer both of us here in aiw. Wow. You really done pissed off them three presidents, ain't ya. Shit. Nobody deserves the start of their career to be against me. That shits gone be yer first an last fight. Done got throwed to the dogs, ya have. Can't say I blame 'em. You looked in the mirror lately? You look in like yes name should be Christina. Them three presidents what run this place prolly don't like 'at mess. That's why they throwed you away like they did. Damn shame too. You look in like you wanna go to one of them beauty pageants. Can't win them pageants with two legs knee deep in yer butthole. I'm talking legs so deep I kicked yersteeth out from the inside. That mess hurts too. Wouldn't wanna be in her shoes, son. But somebody gotta get they as whooped an it sure as hell ain't gone be me. Naw. Uh uh. Not this dude. That one leaves you, son. I'd say I'm sorry but I ain't.”
Jason laughed and then started strumming again.
“And be a whooped ass man.
Be somethin. You know you understand.
Be a Bitch. Be a Bitch you know you are man.”
Fade.