Post by Old Line Jeff on Feb 18, 2021 1:44:31 GMT -5
"I learned something tonight."
"What's that?"
"I'd rather die of a broken neck than from pneumonia."
Kirsty McKinney is sitting in an ironically named hot tub. Ironically, because it's full of ice cubes and she's buried in them up to her chin.
"Oh, I dunno. I think there's something weirdly awesome about freezing to death, like it somehow straddles the line between romantic and bad-fucking-ass. I did a whole promo about freezing back in the Wifwah, a long time ago."
Jeff Andrews is also in the ice.
"Stop saying stupid crap to make me feel better."
"I'm not saying stupid crap to make you feel better, I'm making you sit in a hottub full of ice to make you feel better. A shock to the neck like that fucking powerbomb is going to mess your entire back up, and what we're doing now is icing the whole thing to prevent swelling, prevent sore joints, prevent cartilage erosion. I didn't know cartilage erosion was a thing, and that's why I'm not on the active roster. You don't want it to happen to you, I swear."
Kirsty heaved a cross between a sigh and a raspberry. It set an icecube skittering across the top of the sea of ice.
A moment of silence.
"It's actually working. I think. Might be hypothermia."
"It's not hypothermia." Jeff Andrews deadpanned.
Another moment of silence.
"So tell me again about how we're gonna kill the Dark Novas George."
"You're gonna keep getting better. You're a better grappler than seventy five percent of the wrestlers out there, and you haven't even been in the game for a year. You're stupid strong for your size. Give it a year or two and you're going to be spiking people with deadlift gutwrench extension powerbombs and dropping them on the backs of their heads with twenty slightly different variants of the head and arm suplex. You'll be able to do more damage to someone with one suplex than those girls did to your neck with a double team and a pipe. If you decide to stick with pro wrestling - which you honestly don't have to, you're smart enough to get a white collar job or a skilled blue collar one - you're gonna be a killer. And some day, you will make Commandrix scream your name. She'll scream McKinney! McKINNEY! MICKINNNNEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Andrews' voice goes into a deliberately ridiculous falsetto, and Kirsty giggles.
"Alright George. But I can't take this cold anymore."
"Alright."
Kirsty stands up out of the ice. She's wearing a grey T-shirt and navy blue gym shorts, but between the water and the cold, everything's clinging to her, and, well, the symptoms of the temperature are obvious.
Jeff Andrews politely looks off to the side.
"You comin'?"
"Ehhh... go get changed and give me ten."
"Alrighty."
Kirsty leaves and Jeff sighs and slides down until the ice covers his head. Training a girl has a way of throwing unexpected stress-inducing curveballs at unexpected times.
Luckily for him, this particular time there's plenty of ice on hand.