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Post by William Black on Dec 10, 2012 7:16:53 GMT -4
A brief walk through a desolate corn field opens up a new scene for your eager eyes. A man stands in front of a rickety, old barn. The barn, itself, is definitely out of date by quite a few eras. Loose boards hang from the structure while the red paint has been chipped off severely in multiple areas. In fact, the pure red has turned into a dulled out brown with a red tint as it has dealt with the years of bad weather and neglect. The barn must have been glorious in it's “hay-days”, yes... a pun, original. You can picture it holding vintage tractors and other valuable farm equipment, but now all you can see are the big front doors hanging off of their individual hinges. The typical rooster wind pointer remains on the tip top of the building however, it's leaning off to the left, not appearing that it will last all that much longer.
Now, on to the man standing in front of the farm theme structure, his back is toward the shot so no one can see his face. He's wearing a tanned cowboy hat along with a brown leather vest and chaps to match. Underneath the vest a plaid flannel shirt can be seen. Boots with spurs finish off the attire, but still, you can't quite tell who the man is. Presumably, in APW at least, this man might be John McBride, also known as “The Sheriff”. However, judging off of the demeanor of the man and the straight up fact of how he is standing, it doesn't appear to be. Suddenly, the man spins around on the spur of his boot and faces you. Your eyes scroll up his body in the least homosexual way possible as you pass over a horrible fake mustache you then look him dead in the eyes. “It can't be, it just can't” you catch yourself thinking aloud.
“Well, howdy there, partner! Tis I, Randy the Redneck!” says the man.
Obviously, as much as you don't want to believe it, it's William Black dressed up as a cowboy. This could go one of two ways; horrifying or an absolute abomination. If I were you, I'd stop watching right about now.
“Well, well, well, what do we GOT here?”, asks William, or now known as Randy the Redneck, “A couple of pilgrims, it appears. Well what a hoot and a holler! I was just about to go inside this here barn here ya see and give my cousin a good dicking, but I suppose that can hold off for a few minutes. So, here we are, just a couple of cowboys pretendin' to be wrasslers. Lemme tell you, my compadre, John McBride is the best wrestler I've ever seen. He does all those darn moves that are moves. It's quite the spectacle.”
William's obvious accent seeps through the cowboy slang no matter how hard he tries to hide it, but that won't stop him from laying down more of this verbal assault on McBride.
“I gotta tip my hat to that William Black guy, though. I bet he can even make McBride tap out! Oh well, I reckon that's how it's meant to be. Granted, he did get screwed out of a title shot last week by three folks that aren't even on the same level as him. Probably one of the biggest set ups I've seen since Bret Hart losin' his title in the WWE. None the less, this did turn me on to the talents and assets of one Kaylyn James, that girl got it!” states Randy with a bit of William slipping through at the end.
William know he can't let last week's pathetic loss get to him because his mind has to be on the match at hand this week. John McBride isn't as big of a joke as he is making him out to be. The man is undefeated in APW, but, on that note, William was up until last week as well. A chilling breeze flows right through William Black's alter ego Randy The Redneck causing him to shiver however hard he tries to tough it out.
“It's going to be a darn tootin' interesting week for wrestling. And I think this match between McBride and that wrestling of perfection, William Black, who I call Willy, will be at the head of it. Ya never know who is going to come out as the victor in these types. A lot of fellas are sayin' they're evenly matched, but I think Willy got himself an advantage. That being he's a proper man and not some hillbilly wanker who can't spell the word 'I'!” says William Black who had once again snapped out of his alter ego for a sentence or two.
“It's all a numbers game, John McBride may be an old bastard, but he hasn't learned anything from all his years in the ring. Willy, on the other hand, doesn't always have his mind on whisky and rotten cowboy hats. It must be a tough life, that of a cowboy. As a matter of fact, I'm gonna grab me a few cold ones after this and go watch Fox news because you can't believe that darn Liberal Media. Ya know that whole Global Warmin' thing is a hoax anyway, yeah, it's getting warmer but warming doesn't mean warmer. I make sense, validate me.” spits out Randy.
William, er, Randy is obviously pretty pleased with himself, not being able to hide a big stupid grin. Randy bows his head and turns it slightly to the right, looking over the old barn that sits behind him. One of the doors subtly moves in the breeze causing a creaking noise. Randy then looks down to his boots, kicking some of the dirt around as he ponders what subject to touch on next. This action causes a thick shield of dust to clutter the air around his brown boots making it seem like William's legs stop right below his knees. This is obviously just an illusion, but a pretty cool one at that.
“Hey! In other news, I decorated my house! I mean the barn, so, yes, my house. You want to take a look inside?” asks Randy Redneck.
Not having a choice, Randy turns around and opens up one of the barn doors very carefully as the hinges have quite a decent amount of wear on them. After a couple slow seconds creep by, he successfully opens the barn door. He takes a couple steps inside the old structure and begins to cough wildly.
“Bloody hell, it still smells like absolute shit in this dump! Er, Wooooie, smells like doo in here!” says William in another slip up moment.
He places a hand over his nose and continues inside. The big area is cluttered with empty cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon while a torn apart green couch sits in the middle of the room. Randy the Redneck kicks cans aside and makes his way to the middle of the barn where the couch is. He plops himself down onto it and snatches off an old style television remote from the beer can coffee table he's constructed from cans, obviously, and duct tape. He flicks on the black and white tv and instantly changes the channel to an old John Wayne movie. On the walls of the barn are random NASCAR pennants, mostly of Dale Jr.
“Ah, yep, ya checkin' out my NASCAR flags? Junior's the best, man. Gotta love a man who tries and tries but won't ever reach his dreams, just like John McBride, really. Ya see, the sport is a beautiful thing. They turn left. Yeah, I know right? How awesome is that?! I mean, any stinking wick could be amused for years!” brags Randy.
Randy bends at the waist, leaning forward toward the beer can coffee table. He snatches up a hotdog that looks just as old as the barn. Next to this delicious meal is another Pabst, surprise, surprise.
“This is a good meal here, it is. Hell, every redneck, like myself and Mister McBride love this shit! How much more American can ya get? Not very, I say.” says The Redneck.
William pretends to take a bite of the gross hotdog and just tosses it behind him. Of course, after such a good meal, you need a sip of some gross beer. He then pretends to take a big swig of the Pabst and then tosses it behind him as well.
“Welp, now that we're all fueled up, it's time to talk about Willy's match this week, I reckon. But first, let's talk about how awesome America is. We can have as many guns as we want and don't have to to nothin' for 'em! I mean, we gotta defend ourselves with firearms because we're too fat and lazy to go fist to fist with a bloke. Put a gun in a man like me's hands, and you know you made a 'great decision'. Number B of why 'Merica's awesome is we got a flippin' eagle as a national logo! I know, how cool is that? My friend Billy Bob shot down an eagle once so we could take a better look at it to see just how America it is. 'Course, after we was done lookin', we tried to set it free. But no matter how many times we threw it up in the air, it just kept on fallin' down. Weird, huh?” says Randy.
“Okay, that's enough, I can't stand this anymore. I'm getting out of this bloody barn!” yells Randy.
He pops straight up and off the couch and begins to shuffle his way through all the empty beer cans and cow poop. Paying a lot less care to the barn, he kicks open the door, causing it's hinges to give way. The door slams down to the ground beneath it as William Black walks over it to get out of the musky barn. He then gathers himself and begins to speak once again.
“This charade is over.” says Randy as he rips off the fake moustache and throws the cowboy hat to the ground. “Yes, I bet over half of you didn't figure it out until right now, but that's not what bothers me. As a matter of fact, I expect it out of you pathetic Americans. What does bother me is this.”
William reaches into the front pocket of the leather vest he was disguised in and rips out an action figure of John McBride. He looks the figure dead in the eyes before he turns it and shows to everyone watching at home.
“This is bloody disgusting. This man has done nothing for the world or the business of wrestling beside take up space and pretend to be some 'southern gentleman'. Let me tell you something, there is no such thing as a southern gentleman. There is southern and then there is gentleman. All of you are the same, you work a 'hard' day artificially inseminating cows, you go home and watch your NASCAR and bigot news station and then you go and buy action figures of this right out twit. You know, I haven't seen one William Black figure, pennant, anything. However, this man, this pathetic air breather has his own everything.” complains William Black.
He glances down at the toy one last time before be uses all his might and hurls it toward the ground. It hits with great momentum and the head of the toy pops off of it's neck. This gives William a good reason for the smirk he's now wearing across his face.
“Of course, an American toy breaking with the slightest impact, how typical. Johnny McBride is a lot like this toy, a lot of people love to look with it, for some reason, but when it comes to it.. he breaks under pressure. Well this week, Johnny, this week you're under a lot of pressure. A lot of pressure, indeed. As a matter of fact, I can guarantee that you've never faced a man like me in your pitiful life. Your cowboy hat wearing, whisky slamming, cousin dicking ass doesn't have what it takes to beat me. My not so good sir, I'm not okay with people who make themselves seem like proper gents when in reality all they do is sit around and do nothing to prove it off camera.” says William
“I promised a tap out last week, but I was too busy getting screwed by the same company I'm currently trying to save. This week however, of my good men and women, I will get this redneck peasant to tap out. He'll be trying for his cousin Dolly by the time I'm done with him. Actually, at the end of his match, they're going to need to start making his toys include a broken neck to match him!”
William chuckles due to his last statement. You know it's always a good sign when you can make yourself laugh, the sarcasm is strong with this one. As he turns around to leave the scene, he spins on his spurred heel and takes a step with the opposite leg. An audible squishing sound is heard as The Butler looks down to his boot. He inspects it for a quite moment until he realizes what had just happened.
“Goddamn bloody cows! I hate this country!” yells William.
He had stepped in a hot, steaming pile of cow shit, and for one reason or another, he's not all too happy about it. William wipes his boot off in the dirt next to him and then continues on his way. He walks on before hitting the edge of the cornfields before his body is engulfed in the tall stalks.
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WORDS 2300 or so
SIDE NOTES No offense meant to your character, McBride
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