Post by Mac Bane on Dec 5, 2012 12:56:52 GMT -4
“The kiddie gloves are off”
{ Beaumont, Texas – Veterans of Foreign Wars Post}
It’s an old building to be certain, from the outside you would wonder if you were looking at a world war two barracks. But on the inside, now that is a much different story, polished hardwood floors, internet juke box, the bar which was recently replaced is now solid granite polished to near mirror quality shine. I stand at the end of the bar signing myself in, normally on Tuesday nights there is a poker tournament but this night we are playing spades for charity, all proceeds to go to St. Judes down in Houston. Doing this kind of work with the VFW always brings a smile to my face, its because of the kids you see, when its about them I always make time in my schedule.
“Well, I’ll be damned…Macentyre Alexander Bane!”
I look up from the sign in sheet and who do I see? My old commanding officer Captain Joshua Blair, he’s retired now of course but a finer Naval Officer could not be found. One thing about him that I didn’t like was when we played cards together. He’s a notorious cheat at poker and a sand bagging son of a bitch when he plays spades. I sigh and shake his hand.
Mac – Well Josh, how many hands are you going to sandbag this year.
His jaw sets and the pressure of his handshake increases as I know I have pushed his buttons.
Josh – I don’t sandbag! Plus with the new rules in for this year’s tournament no one will be able to.
I return the pressure of the handshake and watch as he flinches a little, smiling at him I release the grip and slap him on the back. I had forgotten about the rule change that would not allow him to play his usual style. This year the rules state that once you reach 10 sandbags your team gets set back one hundred points. It made smile all the more because a lot of the old timers were calling it the Blair Rule. Josh had won the tournament the last four years running.
Josh – you and that cousin of yours, have had a bit of bad luck the last week or so haven’t you?
Mac – Now Josh you know I don’t believe in luck, a real man makes his own luck.
Josh – same old Mac, I wasn’t sure you would even be here after that beating you took from…what was there name….envikado? Something like that…didn’t you get nailed twice in the family jewels in that match.
I shrug off the veiled insult from my old friend and just smile.
Mac – Josh I’ve been hit harder when I was in grade school by girls on the play ground.
Josh roars with laughter and then something sparks a memory.
Josh – Hey Mac who hits harder Evan Envi or that little Filipino girl that you pissed off in….
I hold up my hands begging him off.
Mac – I never said that Evan hit like a bitch Josh, whatcha trying to do? I think I’m going to go put some money in the juke box, this place needs a little music I think.
Josh slaps me on the back as I walk by still laughing at my embarrassment. I stop in front of the machine and slide a five dollar bill into it. The machine emits a whirring sound as it processes my money, the tubular lights flash in sequence as it records my credits and I stare at the screen.
Mac – The Sons of the South are out of the tournament, now that is something I did not anticipate. Something I did anticipate though were the actions of one Anthony Bailey. I warned the fans that you were a fraud and you showed your true colors Bailey. Your constant interference in that match showed us and everyone else what you really are. I guess you left your honor and integrity in your other tights huh? That’s okay Bailey, I hope you and your buddy win it all big man. But remember this son, if you two knuckle heads should win the whole thing, Buck and I will show you what southern hospitality is all about. Good luck, you’ll need it.
A.C. Smith! Now here is a man of honor and integrity, hope you were taking notes Anthony. Smith is beloved by all the fans of APW and has been since he started here. The fact that you didn’t have to prove yourself on Meltdown speaks volumes to your ability and your reputation. I bet you could sing your praises all day long couldn’t you? You are right though, I am an unproven commodity in APW. There are probably a lot of people here who think I’m some kind of tag team specialist. Of course those are probably the same people who think you are something special. They are wrong on both counts A.C. but thanks for the history lesson big guy, not that I actually gave a damn but thanks all the same. By the way what the hell is a former love interest? Most of us in the real world call them ex-girl friend or ex-wife or that bitch that took half my shit and tried to run me over with a Sherman tank. I know that’s all very disrespectful but you have to realize you are dealing with someone who doesn’t care about that crap.
You are a former police officer…I applaud that occupation, the risks taken for the low pay deserves respect. I served my country in the United States Navy flying the joint strike fighter over cities in Iraq. I flew 64 sorties for my country with 23 confirmed kills, MIG’s make such beautiful sound when they explode. I was never shot down A.C. After my enlistment ended I attended wrestling school in New Orleans, Louisiana learning from a regional legend most of you probably never heard of. He called himself The Punisher. He taught me everything he knew about wrestling in the year of 2006. I spent a couple of years kicking around in small feds winning extreme titles here and there but never getting a shot at a world title. Then I entered UWA….I started at the bottom of the ranks working my way to the top and in their Christmas pay per view I won the first of my two world titles with them. I beat one of the feistiest wrestlers I have ever known…”The” Bob Pooler in a three stages of Hell match…..falls count anywhere….cage match….scaffold match…was a beautiful and bloody affair. I held the world title for seven months setting a record that would never be broken in that company.
Two months later the champion would be stripped of his title and the owner declared it vacant and announced something rarely seen….an eight man elimination match to crown a new champion. Yes you guessed it, I was the first name mentioned for that match. I faced off against Spike Kane, Jimmy Zane, “Godly” Ken Davison and other men that I no longer remember the names of and began my second reign as world champion. Do you see the point I’m trying to make here? History is a fine thing but it depends on who is telling the history as to how glorious or inglorious your history is. I could go on and on about being a four time state champion in football in high school or being named an all American in college while I played football for the University of Texas where I graduated in the top three percent of my class. But these fans don’t want to hear about any of that. You see son, I’m a Texan and we are not taught to lose. Losing is not an option we grow up with, you are taught at a very early age that second place is just the first loser and is not acceptable.
Here is the bottom line A.C. I’m not John Dionysus, I’m Mac Bane and the difference will be all too obvious when we step between those ropes together I garnadamntee it!
My train of thought is broken as the players begin taking seats at their designated tables for the tournament. I take my designated seat across the table is the same spades partner I have had since childhood, my older cousin Joanne Bane….we are going to rock this damn thing.
Scene fades…
{Port Arthur, Texas – The Bane Home}
The scene reopens as the sun is beginning to set. The sun bathes the sky in hues of red and orange that gives the appearance that the sky is on fire. I smile as I watch my cousin Joanne place the first place trophy on the mantle over the fire place. She beams at me with pride written all over her face.
Joanne – all those years of being first loser are over Mac !
I smile and nod at her.
Mac – And we raised over ten thousand dollars for St. Jude’s, let’s not lose perspective here cuz.
Joanne – I know it was about the kids Mac its just nice to see that sandbagger get what he was owed.
I smile remembering the look on her face when we beat Josh and his partner Lloyd Johnson for the first place trophy and next week we get to present the check to the hospital.
Joanne – and how about Brady James!
Mac – Him being there to begin with was a surprise.
Houston Texan’s Line Backer Brady James had come to the tournament much to my surprise but the bigger surprise was when he wrote a personal check to the foundation to also be presented to the hospital bringing our total to over twenty thousand dollars.
Mac – but he didn’t have to bring the Houston Press Corp. with him…reminds me of someone else I know.
Joanne – It was still a beautiful gesture Mac.
I nod my head in agreement with her, there really is no sense in arguing with her about it. I mean after all Brady James is her favorite player. I knock on the front door breaks the silence and Joanne moves to answer the door but I stop her as a shadow moves across the window and a rock comes sailing through it into our living room. I jump to my feet grabbing my service revolver in one fluid motion. I’m at the door, safety off, I yank the slide loading a round into the chamber. I slowly turn the door knob and pull the door open. I hear the blast of a shotgun as Joanne fires through the window, I hold up my hand for her to stop and she does. I feel something wet around my knee from where I had been kneeling and its then that I notice the body and Joanne screams.
Scene fades…
The scene open in the living room of the Bane house, it is bathed in red, white and blue lights from the squad cars outside and the ambulance in the driveway or at least what serves as a drive way. The wetness I had felt, had been blood…the blood of someone I had not seen in over a year. She had left me without a word, I never had known why she had left, I just woke up one morning and she was gone. She had been beaten badly and dumped on my front porch. The police were still looking for clues as to who and asking me questions about the why.
The rock that had come through the window had a note taped to it….”She’s dead and your next Bane.”. I laughed when the police officers had asking me who would want me dead. The list is a long but not very distinguished list of people. I answered their questions as best as I could, as they were preparing to leave one of the detectives motioned me over.
Detective – Mr. Bane, we will do everything we can to find out who did this. It’s a miracle that young woman is even alive.
Mac – let’s make sure she stays that way, can you put someone outside her room to keep an eye on things.
Detective – That is standard protocol Mr. Bane. She will be perfectly safe.
I stare down at the still motionless body of Holly as they lift the gurney up high enough to wheel her out to the waiting ambulance. The thought kept creeping into my mind that they keep her safe and I’ll find out who did this myself. Buck’s neighbors the Joffrion family were notorious for beating their women but would they go this far? Would they attack my ex girl friend to get at Buck and try to force him to sell that land?
Scene fades….
{ Beaumont, Texas – Veterans of Foreign Wars Post}
It’s an old building to be certain, from the outside you would wonder if you were looking at a world war two barracks. But on the inside, now that is a much different story, polished hardwood floors, internet juke box, the bar which was recently replaced is now solid granite polished to near mirror quality shine. I stand at the end of the bar signing myself in, normally on Tuesday nights there is a poker tournament but this night we are playing spades for charity, all proceeds to go to St. Judes down in Houston. Doing this kind of work with the VFW always brings a smile to my face, its because of the kids you see, when its about them I always make time in my schedule.
“Well, I’ll be damned…Macentyre Alexander Bane!”
I look up from the sign in sheet and who do I see? My old commanding officer Captain Joshua Blair, he’s retired now of course but a finer Naval Officer could not be found. One thing about him that I didn’t like was when we played cards together. He’s a notorious cheat at poker and a sand bagging son of a bitch when he plays spades. I sigh and shake his hand.
Mac – Well Josh, how many hands are you going to sandbag this year.
His jaw sets and the pressure of his handshake increases as I know I have pushed his buttons.
Josh – I don’t sandbag! Plus with the new rules in for this year’s tournament no one will be able to.
I return the pressure of the handshake and watch as he flinches a little, smiling at him I release the grip and slap him on the back. I had forgotten about the rule change that would not allow him to play his usual style. This year the rules state that once you reach 10 sandbags your team gets set back one hundred points. It made smile all the more because a lot of the old timers were calling it the Blair Rule. Josh had won the tournament the last four years running.
Josh – you and that cousin of yours, have had a bit of bad luck the last week or so haven’t you?
Mac – Now Josh you know I don’t believe in luck, a real man makes his own luck.
Josh – same old Mac, I wasn’t sure you would even be here after that beating you took from…what was there name….envikado? Something like that…didn’t you get nailed twice in the family jewels in that match.
I shrug off the veiled insult from my old friend and just smile.
Mac – Josh I’ve been hit harder when I was in grade school by girls on the play ground.
Josh roars with laughter and then something sparks a memory.
Josh – Hey Mac who hits harder Evan Envi or that little Filipino girl that you pissed off in….
I hold up my hands begging him off.
Mac – I never said that Evan hit like a bitch Josh, whatcha trying to do? I think I’m going to go put some money in the juke box, this place needs a little music I think.
Josh slaps me on the back as I walk by still laughing at my embarrassment. I stop in front of the machine and slide a five dollar bill into it. The machine emits a whirring sound as it processes my money, the tubular lights flash in sequence as it records my credits and I stare at the screen.
Mac – The Sons of the South are out of the tournament, now that is something I did not anticipate. Something I did anticipate though were the actions of one Anthony Bailey. I warned the fans that you were a fraud and you showed your true colors Bailey. Your constant interference in that match showed us and everyone else what you really are. I guess you left your honor and integrity in your other tights huh? That’s okay Bailey, I hope you and your buddy win it all big man. But remember this son, if you two knuckle heads should win the whole thing, Buck and I will show you what southern hospitality is all about. Good luck, you’ll need it.
A.C. Smith! Now here is a man of honor and integrity, hope you were taking notes Anthony. Smith is beloved by all the fans of APW and has been since he started here. The fact that you didn’t have to prove yourself on Meltdown speaks volumes to your ability and your reputation. I bet you could sing your praises all day long couldn’t you? You are right though, I am an unproven commodity in APW. There are probably a lot of people here who think I’m some kind of tag team specialist. Of course those are probably the same people who think you are something special. They are wrong on both counts A.C. but thanks for the history lesson big guy, not that I actually gave a damn but thanks all the same. By the way what the hell is a former love interest? Most of us in the real world call them ex-girl friend or ex-wife or that bitch that took half my shit and tried to run me over with a Sherman tank. I know that’s all very disrespectful but you have to realize you are dealing with someone who doesn’t care about that crap.
You are a former police officer…I applaud that occupation, the risks taken for the low pay deserves respect. I served my country in the United States Navy flying the joint strike fighter over cities in Iraq. I flew 64 sorties for my country with 23 confirmed kills, MIG’s make such beautiful sound when they explode. I was never shot down A.C. After my enlistment ended I attended wrestling school in New Orleans, Louisiana learning from a regional legend most of you probably never heard of. He called himself The Punisher. He taught me everything he knew about wrestling in the year of 2006. I spent a couple of years kicking around in small feds winning extreme titles here and there but never getting a shot at a world title. Then I entered UWA….I started at the bottom of the ranks working my way to the top and in their Christmas pay per view I won the first of my two world titles with them. I beat one of the feistiest wrestlers I have ever known…”The” Bob Pooler in a three stages of Hell match…..falls count anywhere….cage match….scaffold match…was a beautiful and bloody affair. I held the world title for seven months setting a record that would never be broken in that company.
Two months later the champion would be stripped of his title and the owner declared it vacant and announced something rarely seen….an eight man elimination match to crown a new champion. Yes you guessed it, I was the first name mentioned for that match. I faced off against Spike Kane, Jimmy Zane, “Godly” Ken Davison and other men that I no longer remember the names of and began my second reign as world champion. Do you see the point I’m trying to make here? History is a fine thing but it depends on who is telling the history as to how glorious or inglorious your history is. I could go on and on about being a four time state champion in football in high school or being named an all American in college while I played football for the University of Texas where I graduated in the top three percent of my class. But these fans don’t want to hear about any of that. You see son, I’m a Texan and we are not taught to lose. Losing is not an option we grow up with, you are taught at a very early age that second place is just the first loser and is not acceptable.
Here is the bottom line A.C. I’m not John Dionysus, I’m Mac Bane and the difference will be all too obvious when we step between those ropes together I garnadamntee it!
My train of thought is broken as the players begin taking seats at their designated tables for the tournament. I take my designated seat across the table is the same spades partner I have had since childhood, my older cousin Joanne Bane….we are going to rock this damn thing.
Scene fades…
{Port Arthur, Texas – The Bane Home}
The scene reopens as the sun is beginning to set. The sun bathes the sky in hues of red and orange that gives the appearance that the sky is on fire. I smile as I watch my cousin Joanne place the first place trophy on the mantle over the fire place. She beams at me with pride written all over her face.
Joanne – all those years of being first loser are over Mac !
I smile and nod at her.
Mac – And we raised over ten thousand dollars for St. Jude’s, let’s not lose perspective here cuz.
Joanne – I know it was about the kids Mac its just nice to see that sandbagger get what he was owed.
I smile remembering the look on her face when we beat Josh and his partner Lloyd Johnson for the first place trophy and next week we get to present the check to the hospital.
Joanne – and how about Brady James!
Mac – Him being there to begin with was a surprise.
Houston Texan’s Line Backer Brady James had come to the tournament much to my surprise but the bigger surprise was when he wrote a personal check to the foundation to also be presented to the hospital bringing our total to over twenty thousand dollars.
Mac – but he didn’t have to bring the Houston Press Corp. with him…reminds me of someone else I know.
Joanne – It was still a beautiful gesture Mac.
I nod my head in agreement with her, there really is no sense in arguing with her about it. I mean after all Brady James is her favorite player. I knock on the front door breaks the silence and Joanne moves to answer the door but I stop her as a shadow moves across the window and a rock comes sailing through it into our living room. I jump to my feet grabbing my service revolver in one fluid motion. I’m at the door, safety off, I yank the slide loading a round into the chamber. I slowly turn the door knob and pull the door open. I hear the blast of a shotgun as Joanne fires through the window, I hold up my hand for her to stop and she does. I feel something wet around my knee from where I had been kneeling and its then that I notice the body and Joanne screams.
Scene fades…
The scene open in the living room of the Bane house, it is bathed in red, white and blue lights from the squad cars outside and the ambulance in the driveway or at least what serves as a drive way. The wetness I had felt, had been blood…the blood of someone I had not seen in over a year. She had left me without a word, I never had known why she had left, I just woke up one morning and she was gone. She had been beaten badly and dumped on my front porch. The police were still looking for clues as to who and asking me questions about the why.
The rock that had come through the window had a note taped to it….”She’s dead and your next Bane.”. I laughed when the police officers had asking me who would want me dead. The list is a long but not very distinguished list of people. I answered their questions as best as I could, as they were preparing to leave one of the detectives motioned me over.
Detective – Mr. Bane, we will do everything we can to find out who did this. It’s a miracle that young woman is even alive.
Mac – let’s make sure she stays that way, can you put someone outside her room to keep an eye on things.
Detective – That is standard protocol Mr. Bane. She will be perfectly safe.
I stare down at the still motionless body of Holly as they lift the gurney up high enough to wheel her out to the waiting ambulance. The thought kept creeping into my mind that they keep her safe and I’ll find out who did this myself. Buck’s neighbors the Joffrion family were notorious for beating their women but would they go this far? Would they attack my ex girl friend to get at Buck and try to force him to sell that land?
Scene fades….
