Post by Old Line Jeff on Feb 26, 2024 2:21:16 GMT -5
“The thing is…”
Carlton Gluck was driving an off-road 4-wheeler.
You know the things I mean - every redneck’s dream. They don’t have glass anywhere but the windshield, they have big tires, and they’re designed to drive in the mud.
There’s plenty of mud in Mississippi and the Glucks have plenty of money and not a whole lot of experience in making responsible purchases. Carlton, having a bit of a sense of restraint, didn’t buy one the second he started associating with the High Roller’s Club. But as soon as he won War Games (well, technically it was a team effort and Chapps got the win), he walked into a dealer and drove out on a 4 wheeler.
Since Katie Moss was busy, Carlton thought things over and then dialed the woman who’d helped the Glucks try and get fashionable while they were part of the HRC. Vivian, her name was.
Carlton Gluck is not a man of subtlety, and he would disdain the use of pick up lines. Unless you consider ‘hey wassup girl wanna go muddin’’ to be a pickup line.
Which your average Mississippian actually might.
As it turned out, Vivian did want to go muddin’.
“The thing is…?”
“So, you know, me an’ Chapps had been hearin’ so much about how the High Rollers had our number. Because we were strugglin’ against them. Y’know? Thing about that is, it wasn’t them that we was strugglin’ against. It was takin’ them serious that we was strugglin’ against. Ah mean, you know Wesley Crane, right, when you get right down to it he’s basically every spoiled rich jock you ever met.”
“I, ah, kinda work for him still, not super comfortable badmouthing him?”
“Understandable. Ah’m just sayin, Ah’v been in the same boat - turnin’ my head away from stuff Ah wasn’t okay with because Ah liked the paycheck. But if you don’t wanna talk about ol’ Mistah Crane, we can talk ‘bout Reese instead. Hell, Ah daggone dare anyone to tell me a difference between them two boys. Hey, hold on.”
Carlton guns the off roader towards a puddle sitting on top of the mud. A wake of pale brown water goes flying. Vivian throws her hands up with a ‘woooo’, loving every second of it. After they roll back towards solid(ish) land, Vivian leans back to catch her breath.
“Are you fighting the High Rollers Club again?”
“Eh… come to think of it Ah dunno. Daeriq Damien always wanders in from off camera to tell me who Ah’m facing.”
“And I’m afraid you’re facing a guy whose finisher of choice is simulated oral rape. The name he gave it makes the simulation explicit.”
“How the hell did you get out here boy?”
“Oh I just wandered in from off-camera like I always do. Don’t overthink it. Anyway, your opponents for the week are David Slam the Third, and Gavin Drake. And now that I’ve caught you, I’m going to go brief Chapps. Have fun.”
Damien wanders off camera.
“That was weird.”
“This whole business is weird. Ah know you work for Wesley Crane but you don’t really mess with his rasslin’ career, but was you aware of them demonic clowns? There was this guy who wore a suit and beed evil all the time, Armand Von Krauss, he wasn’t a circus guy but everyone who worked for him was. And a hole opened up in the ring and he got sucked down to Hell. Ah keep tellin’ myself it was a special effect, but man… Ah dunno. Before Ronnie Long disappeared he was tellin’ me how the safest way to deal with the weird stuff was be respectful of it and stay as far clear as possible.”
“Honestly, wardrobe’s been pretty safe to work at. The worst thing I’ve seen is, well, some ‘sketchy proposals,’ and honestly I can’t say I turned them down. That don’t…”
Vivian makes a weird face.
“You’re turning me native.”
“What if Ah told you mah whole plan in gettin’ involved in the High Rollers Club was to peel Wesley Crane’s arm candy associates off one by one and convert them to the Mississippi Way? An honest day’s work followed by muddin’ an’ delta tamales!”
“You aren’t serious, are you?”
“Nah, the main reason Ah signed on with them was the money. But ah, back to ol Slam Cubed. His finisher’s a triangle choke called ‘Cough To Get Off.’”
“And that’s the simulated rape?”
Carlton grimaces and shakes his head. The off-roader approaches a creek, Carlton turns and drives parallel to it.
“Ah guess. Ah gotta be honest, abusive style sex has never been of any interest to me. But even aside from that, the XHF sense of humor is just so… horny. Honestly makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t think anything made Mississipians uncomfortable.”
“Oh lord Vivian, we may live near the bottom of the barrel out here but we know right from wrong.”
Vivian raises one eyebrow.
“Sometimes, mostly due to anger or immaturity, we don’t do right. But we know what it is and we feel bad afterwards. Hey, hang on, we’re comin to the ford, so let’s show that fuckin’ water who’s boss!”
Instead of grabbing the doorframe, Vivian ducks and slips her body under Carlton’s arm.
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
The water goes flying as the off-roader plows through the ford and up onto the slightly dryer land on the other side of the creek.
Vivian doesn’t move out from under Carlton’s arm.
“Can you Mississippi boys take a hint?”
Carlton strokes his beard with his free arm and clucks his tongue like a wise old man.
“Yes. Yes, Ah do believe we can.”
“Okay so one last responsible thing, isn’t Slam the Third going to have a tag team partner?”
“Ah assure you, somewhere there is a camera focused on Chapps, and Daeriq is preparing to wander in from the side and mention the match to him. That’s how this works, for some reason.”
Fade to black as delta jazz plays faintly in the background. Edited in post-production, natch.
Carlton Gluck was driving an off-road 4-wheeler.
You know the things I mean - every redneck’s dream. They don’t have glass anywhere but the windshield, they have big tires, and they’re designed to drive in the mud.
There’s plenty of mud in Mississippi and the Glucks have plenty of money and not a whole lot of experience in making responsible purchases. Carlton, having a bit of a sense of restraint, didn’t buy one the second he started associating with the High Roller’s Club. But as soon as he won War Games (well, technically it was a team effort and Chapps got the win), he walked into a dealer and drove out on a 4 wheeler.
Since Katie Moss was busy, Carlton thought things over and then dialed the woman who’d helped the Glucks try and get fashionable while they were part of the HRC. Vivian, her name was.
Carlton Gluck is not a man of subtlety, and he would disdain the use of pick up lines. Unless you consider ‘hey wassup girl wanna go muddin’’ to be a pickup line.
Which your average Mississippian actually might.
As it turned out, Vivian did want to go muddin’.
“The thing is…?”
“So, you know, me an’ Chapps had been hearin’ so much about how the High Rollers had our number. Because we were strugglin’ against them. Y’know? Thing about that is, it wasn’t them that we was strugglin’ against. It was takin’ them serious that we was strugglin’ against. Ah mean, you know Wesley Crane, right, when you get right down to it he’s basically every spoiled rich jock you ever met.”
“I, ah, kinda work for him still, not super comfortable badmouthing him?”
“Understandable. Ah’m just sayin, Ah’v been in the same boat - turnin’ my head away from stuff Ah wasn’t okay with because Ah liked the paycheck. But if you don’t wanna talk about ol’ Mistah Crane, we can talk ‘bout Reese instead. Hell, Ah daggone dare anyone to tell me a difference between them two boys. Hey, hold on.”
Carlton guns the off roader towards a puddle sitting on top of the mud. A wake of pale brown water goes flying. Vivian throws her hands up with a ‘woooo’, loving every second of it. After they roll back towards solid(ish) land, Vivian leans back to catch her breath.
“Are you fighting the High Rollers Club again?”
“Eh… come to think of it Ah dunno. Daeriq Damien always wanders in from off camera to tell me who Ah’m facing.”
“And I’m afraid you’re facing a guy whose finisher of choice is simulated oral rape. The name he gave it makes the simulation explicit.”
“How the hell did you get out here boy?”
“Oh I just wandered in from off-camera like I always do. Don’t overthink it. Anyway, your opponents for the week are David Slam the Third, and Gavin Drake. And now that I’ve caught you, I’m going to go brief Chapps. Have fun.”
Damien wanders off camera.
“That was weird.”
“This whole business is weird. Ah know you work for Wesley Crane but you don’t really mess with his rasslin’ career, but was you aware of them demonic clowns? There was this guy who wore a suit and beed evil all the time, Armand Von Krauss, he wasn’t a circus guy but everyone who worked for him was. And a hole opened up in the ring and he got sucked down to Hell. Ah keep tellin’ myself it was a special effect, but man… Ah dunno. Before Ronnie Long disappeared he was tellin’ me how the safest way to deal with the weird stuff was be respectful of it and stay as far clear as possible.”
“Honestly, wardrobe’s been pretty safe to work at. The worst thing I’ve seen is, well, some ‘sketchy proposals,’ and honestly I can’t say I turned them down. That don’t…”
Vivian makes a weird face.
“You’re turning me native.”
“What if Ah told you mah whole plan in gettin’ involved in the High Rollers Club was to peel Wesley Crane’s arm candy associates off one by one and convert them to the Mississippi Way? An honest day’s work followed by muddin’ an’ delta tamales!”
“You aren’t serious, are you?”
“Nah, the main reason Ah signed on with them was the money. But ah, back to ol Slam Cubed. His finisher’s a triangle choke called ‘Cough To Get Off.’”
“And that’s the simulated rape?”
Carlton grimaces and shakes his head. The off-roader approaches a creek, Carlton turns and drives parallel to it.
“Ah guess. Ah gotta be honest, abusive style sex has never been of any interest to me. But even aside from that, the XHF sense of humor is just so… horny. Honestly makes me a little uncomfortable.”
“I didn’t think anything made Mississipians uncomfortable.”
“Oh lord Vivian, we may live near the bottom of the barrel out here but we know right from wrong.”
Vivian raises one eyebrow.
“Sometimes, mostly due to anger or immaturity, we don’t do right. But we know what it is and we feel bad afterwards. Hey, hang on, we’re comin to the ford, so let’s show that fuckin’ water who’s boss!”
Instead of grabbing the doorframe, Vivian ducks and slips her body under Carlton’s arm.
“WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”
The water goes flying as the off-roader plows through the ford and up onto the slightly dryer land on the other side of the creek.
Vivian doesn’t move out from under Carlton’s arm.
“Can you Mississippi boys take a hint?”
Carlton strokes his beard with his free arm and clucks his tongue like a wise old man.
“Yes. Yes, Ah do believe we can.”
“Okay so one last responsible thing, isn’t Slam the Third going to have a tag team partner?”
“Ah assure you, somewhere there is a camera focused on Chapps, and Daeriq is preparing to wander in from the side and mention the match to him. That’s how this works, for some reason.”
Fade to black as delta jazz plays faintly in the background. Edited in post-production, natch.