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Submitted by Dumass on Monday, February 21, 2005 at 7:54 PM EST
Don't get me wrong, everything that happened that day was completely and off the wall nuts. I couldn't understand the purposes and the ideas behind it, but when you're high on coke and you have a match in about 45 minutes; not many things seem to make sense. On the plane ride to the city of Philly, my friend asked me "So, you ready to perform?" I said "Yes, and I'm ready to wrestle too." It was too early for me to answer in a subtle form and when everything stopped moving back and forth, it was me who figured out that we were in Philly. I tried hard to get up from the seat that was on the airplane, but my legs never worked so effortlessly to keep me down. Thankfully, someone came by and I was able to get a ride on a wheelchair, regardless if they were on it or not. We walked off our high for about 20 minutes, which was long enough to get into a taxi and take us to the arena to wrestle. One of us, I'll say me, realized that we were walking quite lightly, so in my toked state, I asked my friend "Did you bring the luggage?" "No." he said, holding his head back, trying really hard not to vomit. I couldn't blame him. The taxi we were in smelled like a dumpster full of rotting mayo and elephant shit was left out in the middle of a desert; and not one of those deserts that you read about in books, the ones that you watch in movies where the second someone is outside, they are pouring sweat. Oh the smell was awful and I was thankfully too intoxicated to really suspect what the white stains on the chairs were that I was laying my face on. I think they were white....or maybe a brown. "You need to get ready!!" my friend mentioned as we got closer to the arena. "I'm trying, but the room won't stop spinning!!" "You idiot, we're in a car!!" "Oh!!" "You guys get out of here! Now!!", the taxi driver said. I looked at him with a mean look; well, as mean I could with a perma-smile on my face and the glazed look in my eye. I told him to wait for us until we got back and to keep the tab running. He agreed and pulled over and stood there. I stumbled my way into the arena backdoor where a monster by the name of Bruno was standing there, keeping the roughnecks and other patrons that wished to cause us harm back "behind the curtain". "How are you today Bruno?" I slurred. "You guys are toked up again?! What happens if the boss sees you like this!?!" "Is he here?" "He's here and he's pissed." "Well, we'd better try and not piss him off anymore." And with that I walked in and headed to the bathroom. The bathroom. The holy grail of all drunks and druggies on the go. Instant sobering up or your money back. If the smell of the place didn't get to me, it might have been the soft turd on the sink or the bum with his head in the toliet, gasping for air and more whiskey. "Ahoy, barnaby! Tis be a good way to let out ye shower!" I screamed as I took a piss. The colors on the wall, changing from red to blue to redblue, might have tried to confuse me from my task at hand, but it failed. I stepped around the bathroom, trying to find a sink to wash my hands. I picked up a brown piece of soap and washed myself. I had to look presentable in case the boss had found me or heard of what I've done. I walked to the locker room and tried not to look like I was stoned out of my mind. I opened the door and the devil was standing in front of me. "What do you want?!" he said, sounding pissed off. "I'm supposed to be wrestling a match tonight." "YOU CAN'T IN YOUR CONDITION!!!!" "I'll be the judge of that." I took one step and he used his devil powers to stop me dead in my tracks. I passed out, but not before I told him what was on my mind. He nodded at my slurred speech and made me sleep. I woke up in time to head to my match. I opened my eyes and suddenly a huge jolt of pain smacked me in the face. It was the boss. "So...you came to the show, high on coke and now you want to wrestle?" "Yes sir" "What makes you think I should let you do that?" "Because I'm on the schedule." "I don't want that shit! I want to know why I should let you go out there and wrestle one of my guys!" "Because I'm on the schedule." The clouds opened above him and I heard angels chanting my name. My friend looked at the boss and told him "You hear that? They want to see him. They paid to see him." "Damnit! Well....help him get his clothes on and I'll have him wrestle someone." I said, "I told you I'm scheduled to wrestle." I took a shot of vodka and got my clothes on. I walked to the entrance and I collapsed again. "What the fuck????!!!!!!!!" the boss and I ran out to the crowd. My music hit about 20 seconds later. Brainstew by Green Day. I knew that it was exactly how I felt. I went to the ring and highfived some of the ones in crowd. I was hit from behind by my opponent. He hit me with a few chairs, though there was only one in his hand. I knew that I had to fight back or I would be finished. I got to my feet and fell down again. I started dragging myself to the steps to get a better lift. I turned around to see my opponent. He kept hitting me with the chairs over and over again. I knew this was the end. I closed my eyes and expected the obvious. I opened my eyes and he had turned into a demon. A demon that you see in those movies about the devil and such. I was scared out of my mind. I tried running, but the floor wasn't helping. I crawled away as fast as I could, keeping clear of this devil's reach. He kept coming at me. I was tired and I wanted to go home. I screamed and he started hitting me with the chairs some more. I finally got my legs to work and got into the ring. Everything was spinning and I didn't know that it was a ring. I tried running away, but got caught in the snakes that were holding the ring together. I hate snakes. I tried running the other direction, but the demon had gotten into the ring and started doing his devil cry. The crowd started cheering and I knew they were all traitors. I decided to not run anymore. No coward am I. I saw that the demon was busy taunting to the traitors that were calling for me to be the hero. I took the opening and jumped on top of him. I started punchings like a madman; left right left right left right left right left right left right left right left right left right left right left right left right. I wanted to kill him for haunting me. I kept going over and over again. Left right left right left right left right left right left right. He stopped one of my rallies and he pulled a metal spike from hell and stabbed my head with it. I started bleeding. I collapsed in the corner and saw my life flash before my eyes and it was red. Red like rum. I tried gathering it all up and putting it back into my head. I couldn't die in front of these ingrates. I headed after the demon. I picked him up and threw him around the ring. He didn't know what happened to him. I went after him over and over again. One move after another. It was a second wind, a breath of fresh air. I picked him up by his head. I knew this would be the end for him for sure. I spun around 2...3...4...5 times and landed him on his head. I sent him straight back to hell. I got undizzy long enough to pin him. 1.....2....3! I won the match and the crowd cheered. I felt like they were mine again and I had one them back. I stumbled through the snakes and headed to the back of the building. My friend looked at me and said "Dude....you won." "Dude....let's go back to SF, they have better drugs." I picked up my check and headed outside. The disease-ridden taxi driver was still there. "You ready?" "Yeah, man. Back to the airport." "Alright. Get in" "Dude...you ok? You want to go to the hospital so you can check on that bleeding?" "Naw....I just want to get home as soon as possible." As we drove away from the arena, I looked back and smiled. I had survived that famous arena and it had accepted me. It wasn't the same, kinda like the Ellis Island after the war, but I knew the history and I was part of it. It brought me in and scared me. I came out alive and unharmed...well....besides the huge gash on my head. I turned back around and asked the taxi driver, over the sound of bad rock music and the smell of wasting blood and trash from the taxi, "How much do we owe you?" "120.35$" "What?" "You heard me. You told me to keep the meter running." ".....I didn't mean it." "Then you shouldn't have said it." "He's right." "Ok ok....I'll pay you. Hey man, you wouldn't know where a guy like me could get a hit of coke, would you? I've got a killer headache." In memory of Hunter S. Thompson. Common man to all, and hero to the ones who really gave a shit about him. __________________________ Thanks for reading, I guess. Dumass <----Email me!! AIM: Dumass4k Lethal Wrestling - You Can't Stop Here!! This Is Bat Country!!
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