Post by Odin Balfore on Dec 10, 2022 19:16:19 GMT -5
GET GOOD OR GET LOST III
Was Shane Borderland a boon, a blessing, or another knife in the back waiting to happen? A Rocky and sorted past, for sure but one that is bonded them in that ring. There are personal differences and then there are professional differences. The All-Father could put one of these aside but not both. Never both. Most unthick and nerd-like to do both - to roll over for the belly rubs while your chick gets railed in some cuck-style snuff porn.
One thing that could be respected about Borderland was that he was old school the same way that the All-Father was, uphill, both ways in the snow. One match doesn't prove that, however. Even Cashe was semi-solid for a single match. Cashe is solid until the heat gets bumped up in one thermo-octave. One hair lick of a degree and homeboy bounces to easier pastures where he ain't got to try so hard.
Could this be Borderland, too?
Nah, son. Borderland was WCF.
It was that thought that Odin kept repeating to himself like AB(C+B). You just have to get the fundamentals of the situation. Its one thing for Shane to say that he wants to show up and show out. Its another thing entirely to do it. The All-Fathers been doing that consistently and at least there's a 50-50 split cheesecake that Shanes is here for it too. He IS here, after all.
Odin lay on the bed, watching Adele change over in the bathroom of her New York penthouse apartment.
“Where’d you wana go tonight?” She asks, as she towels off her wet hair.
Odin gives an indifferent shrug. “You wanna go to a club?”
“Do you like raves? I know this underground spot called Techno Neon.”
Techno Neon was a club for the criminal underworld, how’d she know about it? It caught Odin off guard and he almost slipped on it but he was able to put it away. Noted, not to be slept on. He just grimaced a bit and swatted the idea away.
“How about this,” He replies. “If you cannot guess my favorite kind of music, I’ll take you to it.”
“What fun is that, so if I guess right, we don’t go?”
“Okay, we’ll go either way. Raves are just, too much.”
Odin was lying.
Adele comes out of the bathroom with her bra and panties on, walking over and sitting on the bed next to odin.
“It has to be that Heavy Metal that you’re always listening to. Are you going to make me choose between Viking and German Death Metal?”
“No, and it's neither. I like Blue Jazz. I used to be part owner of a Jazz club.”
This was not a lie.
“Oh, so you like Jazz but you don’t like raves?”
“What's there for me to enjoy about twenty-year-olds tripping on Molly?”
“I dunno, sweetheart, why don’t you go ask Miley that.”
“Bitch, you speak to me?”
Odin sits up. Ire peeking through his eyes.
“Relax, I don’t care. I was married before you. I had relationships before you and after we broke up. People have lives. People live those lives. I don't care what you’ve done or been through. It's the here and now that's important. It's the US that's important. And to answer your next question, I would love to go to a jazz club with you and just relax with a martini. Sounds like a better night than all that noise, smoke, and lights. People everywhere, all sweaty. Come to think of it, I just showered and the thought is grossing me out. Do you know any good Jazz clubs; you must.”
“Have you never heard of the Vanguard?”
“I have, just not from you. Everything from you is wrestling. It’s like you don't have a life outside of that.”
“Not one that I’m particularly proud of.”
“We’ve all done things that we weren't proud of at one point in time. It's what makes us and makes you, you. Get Good or Get Lost.”
Adele said ‘I love you’ but yet again, Odin heard Torts voice.
“Yah, something like that.”
========
“Pepper Hill Gang, you comin into some hot ass shit this week. Borderland being who he is, perhaps we can co-exist and given my albatros-tisticly, abis-mal track record with Tag partners in the AW - I can see clearly where you get off thinkin you got a hookers shot in the pew on this.
Sweatin them saline tits off. Mini skirt and puumps ridin to heaven faster than you are but hey, you boys still thinking you got a shot.
Admireable, no.
Understandable - goofidly so.
Goofidly so, indeed.
I’ve fought this man more times than I care to remember and half as much as I’d like to admit but here we are. Yet ironically, stranger things have happened. Like that time I gifted Alex Richards an enchanted island infested with dinosaurs.
No serious. That shit happened. Look that shit up.
Aint no question the beating that we are going to give you both. Send you both back to the OCW with stories to tell.
That you were in the ring with the best.
The top tier.
You want that old school, G type shit, you’re gonna get it.
That Thick Communism gonna beat the brakes off you. Send you back to that cocoa farm you got there, blow that check up your nose as you wait for the phone to ring.
Pick that shit up. Its you’re future and that means your ass.
Get good or get lost, nerds
