Post by Buckson Gooch on Nov 9, 2012 12:27:48 GMT -4
A belly full of fresh bacon, eggs, and biscuits from scratch is a great way to start the morning but with the aggravation of vandals makes for a slightly agitated, yet satisfied Buckson Gooch. The morning started earlier than usual with Buck having to round up cows that were getting out due to his fence being intentionally vandalized. Since all cows were accounted for, this mere inconvenience didn’t hurt his appetite or his attitude. The slamming screen door produces a giant man. A thick man would be the best description. He’s just thick everywhere. Thick neck, thick chest, thick trunk like legs, thick powerful hands, and thick, pipelike arms. This man didn’t train in a glitzy gym, this man has had years of conditioning in hard work.
His tattered overalls tell the story of his life. Worked hard, scrubbed clean, and taken care of as best as possible. Were their tears in the fabric? Absolutely, but lovingly they were sewn back together, stronger than ever. Tough.
That toughness has made him resilient. He takes on challenges with full force, throwing his mind and body into them. He has spent countless hours, those hours adding to days, those days turning into hours those hours turning to years. The callouses on his bulky hands were of the permanent type. Layers of thick, dark, tough skin surrounded by a leathery tan membrane seemingly stretched over his hands and arms as if the muscles were going to burst through the thin layer of covering like a volcano bursts through the crust of the earth.
As we saw last week, Buckson Gooch already holds a ring like a veteran of the sport. He uses his instincts, with the hard work of a farmer, you learn to think smarter than do extra work. Every motion means something. Each punch is meant for something in the ring.
Buckson Gooch opens the giant barn door and walks in putting on a pair of gloves that fit very snug. With a giant swoop he grabs wire cutters, some extra nails, a hammer, and a giant spool of barbed wire. He leaves the barn and throws the wire, the cutters, and the hammer in the back. He pockets the nails. He opens the old door of his ’74 Dodge, “Fungus” when he hears familiar heavy steps...in boots...he smiles.
Buckson Gooch: Hey Bane, didn’t expect you today.
Buckson turns to see Mac Bane. Not the Mac who is dressed in his best, but a Mac that looks to be ready to work. Wranglers. Weathered boots. White T-Shirt, and the Mac Bane-esque black Stetson. Buckson wondered for a moment if Bane wore that thing to bed.
Mac Bane: Last week, I put you through the ringer with my workout. Let’s see who works harder. Figured you had something going on.
Buckson could hear the note of competition in Bane’s voice. Buck snorts. Don't let Bane's laid back demeanor fool you. Under the cool surface is a fiery competition. He is a man in control of his emotions, but not a man to be outdone.
Buckson Gooch: Someone cut my fence. The cows got out this morning. Gotta mend it. Figure out what’s going on.
Wane went to the other side of Fungus and slid in and rolled down the window. Buck slammed his door and cranked his window down, fired her up and she started with a roar. Buck slowly took off and got up to speed on the outlies of his pasture. Buck decides to break the silence.
Buckson Gooch: Did you ever hear about the two bulls sitting on a hill?
Mac Bane: I’m afraid not, my friend.
Buckson Gooch: Well, this old bull and young bull sitting in the shade under an old oak tree. The young bull gets aroused and decides that he wants to do something about it. So he looks over to the old bull and excitedly says, “Hey, lets run down the hill and mate with some of the cows?” The old bull slowly turns his head to the young bull and says, “How about we walk down the hill and mate with all of them?”
Mac smirks, which was like getting a belly laugh from anyone else.
Mac Bane: Anything behind that joke, Ace?
Buckson Gooch: Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Johnny Knuckles since I found out we’d be facing him and Iver this week.
Mac Bane: What’s the connection?
Buckson Gooch: Well...he seems a little excitable. Comes off of a loss at the Pay-Per-View and turns around and gets booked for two matches in one week? I’m not doubting his ability, but judging by his promo for Asylum...he seems a little high strung.
Buck looks over at Bane and then back to the road. He realizes that the big Texan is just letting him get everything out of his system.
Buckson Gooch: There’s an intensity there. Too bad it’s misplaced. He’s expelling too much bile and anger. He’s just exhausting himself. Profanity after profanity, screaming, hollering. He’s like an open bottle of soda. If I shake it up, sure it’ll spill over, but then it’s done, just a little foam...I’m a different breed.
Mac Bane: You got that right.
Buckson Gooch: Shut up. You know what I mean.
The Texan smiles which prompts Gooch to continue.
Buckson Gooch: I’m like a bottle of soda myself. But my top is still on. Shake me up, throw me around, whatever...but when that cap comes off, I’m making a mess. A violent mess. I don’t know Knuckles all that well. He’s a talented wrestler. I by no means think he’ll be a walk in the park. In APW everyone is talented enough to bring a fight, no squash matches here. But I believe this wasted motion and extra match on his part are only going to be a deterrent for him in our match.
Mac adjusts his black Stetson. He looks out over the land, it’s obvious that Buck has worked this land diligently. It almost looks like it’s ready to sow seed on, but it’s just not the time of season. Mac breaks the silence.
Mac Bane: What about Irver?
Buckson Gooch: What about Irver? I tried to do some research on him and all it did was make me depressed. Dude is dark. He reminds me of those little outcast, hooligans from the local high school. They come and TP my house or egg my car and run off to go cast some spells on someone. I don’t know if I should chase them down and beat them up or chase them down and give them some advice. Just tell them to forgive their dad and write some poetry or something.
Mac keeps the chuckle in, but Buck realizes he may get Bane to crack. Gooch wants a big laugh from his Texan friend and is going to try to get it.
Buckson Gooch: I don’t get it, these little dejected, goofballs say they are non-conformists, but they all look alike around here. Dye their hair black, wear mascara, cry all the time...and that’s the boys. They walk around wearing skinny jeans...and our country is in an obesity epidemic. It’s not pretty.
Bane gets himself in control and Gooch realizes that the opportunity for a laugh is gone. Bane rarely laughs at the obvious and even though Gooch wanted a laugh, Bane wasn't going to oblige. Mac Bane is genuine. If he congratulates you, he means it. Why risk his character, even so slightly on a pity laugh? Not going to happen. Bane is better than that...and the joke wasn't all that funny.
Buckson Gooch: He’s a vicious dude like me, but I just don’t get the dark stuff. He digs in the ground. I dig in the ground. I produce food that is useful for the community and keep my family fed. He digs in the ground to find relics that he thinks will give him magical powers. I live in reality…he doesn’t. Not that I care to be disrespectful to the man, but his efforts are futile. There’s no such thing as magic. He can call me a backwoods, redneck…and if he does, I’ve been called worse by better.
Gooch applies the brakes to the truck and they get to the fence. He tried to mend it this morning some, and the fix was okay. They get out of the truck and get the tools out. Gooch looks at the fence and starts to vent.
Buckson Gooch: This doesn’t really make me all that mad, because I got my cows back, I just hate the disrespect. Someone in my community thought this was okay, to hinder my work, my livelihood. That is not okay.
Buck takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his forehead. The dark blue turns darker with the dampening sweat from Gooch’s brow.
Buckson Gooch: I feel pretty disrespected this week. You and I are the new guys in APW. We are facing two established wrestlers…and they wait this long to post a promo? I understand that Knuckles is overkilling this week with two matches, but what type of lowlifes are going to wait for the new guys to fire the first shot? Those are cowards. It’s the concept that, “Sure I’d get in a fight if the guy was littler than me.” So they want to see what we’ve got first? That’s fine. I don’t manipulate my game plan for them, they change their fight for me…for us. I’m going to give my 100% best regardless. I hope everyone in APW is following our match…everyone in the tournament is following our match, Mac. They can see that there is some trepidation on the part of the establishment for the Sons of the South. We’re not two little weasels that are doing back flips, front flips, and flip flopping around. We’re two tough men who are ready to punch someone in the face, not afraid of the fight back.
Buck picks up the spool of barbed wire and walks over to the fence with it. He sets it down and inspects the cut fencing. He grabs the cut barbed wire and gives it a yank pulling it from the post that held it. He does this to the rest of the wires hanging from the post and takes the remnants and throws them in the back of Fungus.
Buckson Gooch: Just like my neighbor. Instead of calling me out and we settling our disagreement, he waits in the night to attack. Knuckles and Irver are the same. Instead of taking initiative, it’s easy to play the coward and fire a response. The comparison is easy. I’m going to get the job done regardless…and go on about my business…You ready to help me or just stand there?
Bane nods his head accordingly. He was almost in a trance like state taking in everything that Gooch was saying, like a sponge. Bane shows his wisdom in hearing all that Gooch had to say and is going to give the best advice he can give. While there are some similarities in Gooch’s plight, the wrestling world is a different beast and an adjustment will have to be made to Gooch’s attitude. Bane slaps Gooch on the back and is ready to help and give some veteran advice and fix what the cowardly neighbor did to Gooch’s fence.
His tattered overalls tell the story of his life. Worked hard, scrubbed clean, and taken care of as best as possible. Were their tears in the fabric? Absolutely, but lovingly they were sewn back together, stronger than ever. Tough.
That toughness has made him resilient. He takes on challenges with full force, throwing his mind and body into them. He has spent countless hours, those hours adding to days, those days turning into hours those hours turning to years. The callouses on his bulky hands were of the permanent type. Layers of thick, dark, tough skin surrounded by a leathery tan membrane seemingly stretched over his hands and arms as if the muscles were going to burst through the thin layer of covering like a volcano bursts through the crust of the earth.
As we saw last week, Buckson Gooch already holds a ring like a veteran of the sport. He uses his instincts, with the hard work of a farmer, you learn to think smarter than do extra work. Every motion means something. Each punch is meant for something in the ring.
Buckson Gooch opens the giant barn door and walks in putting on a pair of gloves that fit very snug. With a giant swoop he grabs wire cutters, some extra nails, a hammer, and a giant spool of barbed wire. He leaves the barn and throws the wire, the cutters, and the hammer in the back. He pockets the nails. He opens the old door of his ’74 Dodge, “Fungus” when he hears familiar heavy steps...in boots...he smiles.
Buckson Gooch: Hey Bane, didn’t expect you today.
Buckson turns to see Mac Bane. Not the Mac who is dressed in his best, but a Mac that looks to be ready to work. Wranglers. Weathered boots. White T-Shirt, and the Mac Bane-esque black Stetson. Buckson wondered for a moment if Bane wore that thing to bed.
Mac Bane: Last week, I put you through the ringer with my workout. Let’s see who works harder. Figured you had something going on.
Buckson could hear the note of competition in Bane’s voice. Buck snorts. Don't let Bane's laid back demeanor fool you. Under the cool surface is a fiery competition. He is a man in control of his emotions, but not a man to be outdone.
Buckson Gooch: Someone cut my fence. The cows got out this morning. Gotta mend it. Figure out what’s going on.
Wane went to the other side of Fungus and slid in and rolled down the window. Buck slammed his door and cranked his window down, fired her up and she started with a roar. Buck slowly took off and got up to speed on the outlies of his pasture. Buck decides to break the silence.
Buckson Gooch: Did you ever hear about the two bulls sitting on a hill?
Mac Bane: I’m afraid not, my friend.
Buckson Gooch: Well, this old bull and young bull sitting in the shade under an old oak tree. The young bull gets aroused and decides that he wants to do something about it. So he looks over to the old bull and excitedly says, “Hey, lets run down the hill and mate with some of the cows?” The old bull slowly turns his head to the young bull and says, “How about we walk down the hill and mate with all of them?”
Mac smirks, which was like getting a belly laugh from anyone else.
Mac Bane: Anything behind that joke, Ace?
Buckson Gooch: Yeah, I’ve been thinking about Johnny Knuckles since I found out we’d be facing him and Iver this week.
Mac Bane: What’s the connection?
Buckson Gooch: Well...he seems a little excitable. Comes off of a loss at the Pay-Per-View and turns around and gets booked for two matches in one week? I’m not doubting his ability, but judging by his promo for Asylum...he seems a little high strung.
Buck looks over at Bane and then back to the road. He realizes that the big Texan is just letting him get everything out of his system.
Buckson Gooch: There’s an intensity there. Too bad it’s misplaced. He’s expelling too much bile and anger. He’s just exhausting himself. Profanity after profanity, screaming, hollering. He’s like an open bottle of soda. If I shake it up, sure it’ll spill over, but then it’s done, just a little foam...I’m a different breed.
Mac Bane: You got that right.
Buckson Gooch: Shut up. You know what I mean.
The Texan smiles which prompts Gooch to continue.
Buckson Gooch: I’m like a bottle of soda myself. But my top is still on. Shake me up, throw me around, whatever...but when that cap comes off, I’m making a mess. A violent mess. I don’t know Knuckles all that well. He’s a talented wrestler. I by no means think he’ll be a walk in the park. In APW everyone is talented enough to bring a fight, no squash matches here. But I believe this wasted motion and extra match on his part are only going to be a deterrent for him in our match.
Mac adjusts his black Stetson. He looks out over the land, it’s obvious that Buck has worked this land diligently. It almost looks like it’s ready to sow seed on, but it’s just not the time of season. Mac breaks the silence.
Mac Bane: What about Irver?
Buckson Gooch: What about Irver? I tried to do some research on him and all it did was make me depressed. Dude is dark. He reminds me of those little outcast, hooligans from the local high school. They come and TP my house or egg my car and run off to go cast some spells on someone. I don’t know if I should chase them down and beat them up or chase them down and give them some advice. Just tell them to forgive their dad and write some poetry or something.
Mac keeps the chuckle in, but Buck realizes he may get Bane to crack. Gooch wants a big laugh from his Texan friend and is going to try to get it.
Buckson Gooch: I don’t get it, these little dejected, goofballs say they are non-conformists, but they all look alike around here. Dye their hair black, wear mascara, cry all the time...and that’s the boys. They walk around wearing skinny jeans...and our country is in an obesity epidemic. It’s not pretty.
Bane gets himself in control and Gooch realizes that the opportunity for a laugh is gone. Bane rarely laughs at the obvious and even though Gooch wanted a laugh, Bane wasn't going to oblige. Mac Bane is genuine. If he congratulates you, he means it. Why risk his character, even so slightly on a pity laugh? Not going to happen. Bane is better than that...and the joke wasn't all that funny.
Buckson Gooch: He’s a vicious dude like me, but I just don’t get the dark stuff. He digs in the ground. I dig in the ground. I produce food that is useful for the community and keep my family fed. He digs in the ground to find relics that he thinks will give him magical powers. I live in reality…he doesn’t. Not that I care to be disrespectful to the man, but his efforts are futile. There’s no such thing as magic. He can call me a backwoods, redneck…and if he does, I’ve been called worse by better.
Gooch applies the brakes to the truck and they get to the fence. He tried to mend it this morning some, and the fix was okay. They get out of the truck and get the tools out. Gooch looks at the fence and starts to vent.
Buckson Gooch: This doesn’t really make me all that mad, because I got my cows back, I just hate the disrespect. Someone in my community thought this was okay, to hinder my work, my livelihood. That is not okay.
Buck takes his handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes his forehead. The dark blue turns darker with the dampening sweat from Gooch’s brow.
Buckson Gooch: I feel pretty disrespected this week. You and I are the new guys in APW. We are facing two established wrestlers…and they wait this long to post a promo? I understand that Knuckles is overkilling this week with two matches, but what type of lowlifes are going to wait for the new guys to fire the first shot? Those are cowards. It’s the concept that, “Sure I’d get in a fight if the guy was littler than me.” So they want to see what we’ve got first? That’s fine. I don’t manipulate my game plan for them, they change their fight for me…for us. I’m going to give my 100% best regardless. I hope everyone in APW is following our match…everyone in the tournament is following our match, Mac. They can see that there is some trepidation on the part of the establishment for the Sons of the South. We’re not two little weasels that are doing back flips, front flips, and flip flopping around. We’re two tough men who are ready to punch someone in the face, not afraid of the fight back.
Buck picks up the spool of barbed wire and walks over to the fence with it. He sets it down and inspects the cut fencing. He grabs the cut barbed wire and gives it a yank pulling it from the post that held it. He does this to the rest of the wires hanging from the post and takes the remnants and throws them in the back of Fungus.
Buckson Gooch: Just like my neighbor. Instead of calling me out and we settling our disagreement, he waits in the night to attack. Knuckles and Irver are the same. Instead of taking initiative, it’s easy to play the coward and fire a response. The comparison is easy. I’m going to get the job done regardless…and go on about my business…You ready to help me or just stand there?
Bane nods his head accordingly. He was almost in a trance like state taking in everything that Gooch was saying, like a sponge. Bane shows his wisdom in hearing all that Gooch had to say and is going to give the best advice he can give. While there are some similarities in Gooch’s plight, the wrestling world is a different beast and an adjustment will have to be made to Gooch’s attitude. Bane slaps Gooch on the back and is ready to help and give some veteran advice and fix what the cowardly neighbor did to Gooch’s fence.
