Post by Damian Kaine on Jul 1, 2018 22:43:34 GMT -5
I step out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the Steakhouse with only two things on my mind: a twelve oz ribeye and my late Fiance.
Little backstory here. Ally and I are supposed to be on our first official date since getting back together last month. We’ve had it all planned for weeks. You’d think everything would go off without a hitch, right?
Hell no. I’ve been waiting at an empty booth for almost half an hour, being eyed warrily by a highly judgemental waiter. I’ve yet to receive so much as a call or text from my beloved, so needless to say I’m freaking the fuck out. I pull out my phone, taking note that there is *still* no reply, as I pull up the keypad and dial her number.
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring.
Operator: Sorry, the person you have called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Goodbye.
FUCK! Maybe she’s gotten pulled over… Maybe she got into an accident.
Maybe she’s de-
BOO!
I jump out of my boots, shaken from my worrisome trance. I turn around to see the beautiful face of my Ally, dressed in a pretty green dress.
Me: Where in the sam hell have you been, girl?
She smiles, her perfect red lips curving around her white teeth, a chuckle heard within her throat.
Ally: So… About that. I took a nap, ya see. And, well. I’ve been awake for probably a total of maybe 20, 25 minutes.
Me: Oh? Shit, but that is a half an hour drive. How did-
Ally: Legally.
I give her a confused expression.
Ally: Legally, it’s a thirty minute drive.
Me: ...OH! Okay. Uh. Well, okay then. Let’s go in! I already got us a table.
I lead the way and grab the door, allowing her entry first, as a gentleman does. Then I once again take lead to our table. We sit, the waiter finally accepting the fact that I’m not dining solo and just munching on the bread. I look at the menu, pointlessly, before remembering that I picked what I want almost an hour ago at this point. That 12oz Ribeye I mentioned earlier. So, I fold the menu back and set it back down on the table.
Me: Any idea what you want, Baby Girl?
Her cheeks light up like the morning sun. She shakes her head.
Me: Pick anything you want, it’s all on me.
I reach across the table and place my hand on hers as she flips through the menu.
Ally: Okay, I think I know now. A Steakhouse Bacon Burger.
I give her a look of worry, causing her to panic slightly.
Ally: Uuh.. Sorry, if that’s too expensive! Let me find some-
Me: Oh hush, I’m just teasing you. I already told you it’s all on me. You want that burger, you’re getting that burger.
Her face calms slightly.
Ally: You asshole.
Me: You love me.
Ally: Uh-huh.
She rolls her eyes, then smiles big. My hand tightens around hers.
Ally: Well. I suppose there’s some things to talk about here. First thing’s first. We need to set a date.
She removes her hand from mine and pulls out her phone. She starts scrolling through, presumably looking at a calendar app.
Ally: I was thinking maybe sometime in December. It’ll be cooler weather. Christmas time would bring both families back home, so it would be hella convenient. What do you think?
Me: Honestly, I like it. It’s far enough away, the convenience would be perfect. I think I could probably get a few of the boys to help around then. Are we gonna have it in Georgia or at the Camp?
Ally: Whichever we want. You have enough to fly everybody out to Pennsylvania if we want.
Me: This is true. I think we should do it at the camp, that way we wouldn’t have to pay for a location. I don’t want your dad doing paying a fortune like I know he would. The camp is definitely big enough.
I had honestly given this a lot of thought. Ally’s family isn’t the most well off. I don’t want them sent into bankruptcy paying for the wedding. Fuck tradition.
Ally: Okay… Yeah, I think he’d go for that. Now, we’ve got December picked out. We have a location. We need an exact date.
Me: I got it. December 18th.
Ally: That was… quick? Is that a significant date?
It is. It really, really is.
Me: It’s the two year anniversary of the first Pay Per View match I ever won. Call me conceited but it honestly means a lot to me. Plus, it was on that very campground. It could be a very important date there.
Ally: Well… Ya know what, fuck it. Okay. I agree. December 18.
The waiter finally appears next to me. We order and eat, no worries in the world at the time. It’s kinda nice, ya know. Having a normal life. Planting the seeds of starting a family. I always wanted something like this. I’ve worked so hard.
I’ve spent my whole life avoiding the American Dream. But honestly, it’s nice. I love it. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
Okay, here’s the deal. Last week, I fucked up. I didn’t sleep well the night before and it showed. Spec and I talked shit out, and I apologized, and here we are. Now, what happened after? That shit won’t fly with me.
Bishop, we’ve never actually come face to face before. I’m quite sure you took that for granted. Our first actual match together, your ass got pinned for the television championship. Second, you managed to grow a pair, climb a ladder and retrive the very same title you cost me. I know I’m trying to be civil, nowadays, but after the shit you and your little life partner pulled last week, civility is long out the window.
You say you want to make a name for yourselves. Establish yourselves as an elite tag team. Well, mate, you picked the wrong fucking team to do it. Dark Spectre and I, yeah we may not have had the biggest splash. But you’d better be damn sure that we will at least be known as the guys who rid Action Wrestling, and the world, of two little pests with inferiority complexes.
You brag and brag. You beat Gravedigger. So fucking what, mate. Digger is far past his prime. Meet somebody like me in Hell in a Cell. Or even just in this match. And I can promise you something.
Mark my words. You will NOT walk out of that arena well. If you walk out at all.
Little backstory here. Ally and I are supposed to be on our first official date since getting back together last month. We’ve had it all planned for weeks. You’d think everything would go off without a hitch, right?
Hell no. I’ve been waiting at an empty booth for almost half an hour, being eyed warrily by a highly judgemental waiter. I’ve yet to receive so much as a call or text from my beloved, so needless to say I’m freaking the fuck out. I pull out my phone, taking note that there is *still* no reply, as I pull up the keypad and dial her number.
Ring ring
Ring ring
Ring ring.
Operator: Sorry, the person you have called has a voice mailbox that has not been set up yet. Goodbye.
FUCK! Maybe she’s gotten pulled over… Maybe she got into an accident.
Maybe she’s de-
BOO!
I jump out of my boots, shaken from my worrisome trance. I turn around to see the beautiful face of my Ally, dressed in a pretty green dress.
Me: Where in the sam hell have you been, girl?
She smiles, her perfect red lips curving around her white teeth, a chuckle heard within her throat.
Ally: So… About that. I took a nap, ya see. And, well. I’ve been awake for probably a total of maybe 20, 25 minutes.
Me: Oh? Shit, but that is a half an hour drive. How did-
Ally: Legally.
I give her a confused expression.
Ally: Legally, it’s a thirty minute drive.
Me: ...OH! Okay. Uh. Well, okay then. Let’s go in! I already got us a table.
I lead the way and grab the door, allowing her entry first, as a gentleman does. Then I once again take lead to our table. We sit, the waiter finally accepting the fact that I’m not dining solo and just munching on the bread. I look at the menu, pointlessly, before remembering that I picked what I want almost an hour ago at this point. That 12oz Ribeye I mentioned earlier. So, I fold the menu back and set it back down on the table.
Me: Any idea what you want, Baby Girl?
Her cheeks light up like the morning sun. She shakes her head.
Me: Pick anything you want, it’s all on me.
I reach across the table and place my hand on hers as she flips through the menu.
Ally: Okay, I think I know now. A Steakhouse Bacon Burger.
I give her a look of worry, causing her to panic slightly.
Ally: Uuh.. Sorry, if that’s too expensive! Let me find some-
Me: Oh hush, I’m just teasing you. I already told you it’s all on me. You want that burger, you’re getting that burger.
Her face calms slightly.
Ally: You asshole.
Me: You love me.
Ally: Uh-huh.
She rolls her eyes, then smiles big. My hand tightens around hers.
Ally: Well. I suppose there’s some things to talk about here. First thing’s first. We need to set a date.
She removes her hand from mine and pulls out her phone. She starts scrolling through, presumably looking at a calendar app.
Ally: I was thinking maybe sometime in December. It’ll be cooler weather. Christmas time would bring both families back home, so it would be hella convenient. What do you think?
Me: Honestly, I like it. It’s far enough away, the convenience would be perfect. I think I could probably get a few of the boys to help around then. Are we gonna have it in Georgia or at the Camp?
Ally: Whichever we want. You have enough to fly everybody out to Pennsylvania if we want.
Me: This is true. I think we should do it at the camp, that way we wouldn’t have to pay for a location. I don’t want your dad doing paying a fortune like I know he would. The camp is definitely big enough.
I had honestly given this a lot of thought. Ally’s family isn’t the most well off. I don’t want them sent into bankruptcy paying for the wedding. Fuck tradition.
Ally: Okay… Yeah, I think he’d go for that. Now, we’ve got December picked out. We have a location. We need an exact date.
Me: I got it. December 18th.
Ally: That was… quick? Is that a significant date?
It is. It really, really is.
Me: It’s the two year anniversary of the first Pay Per View match I ever won. Call me conceited but it honestly means a lot to me. Plus, it was on that very campground. It could be a very important date there.
Ally: Well… Ya know what, fuck it. Okay. I agree. December 18.
The waiter finally appears next to me. We order and eat, no worries in the world at the time. It’s kinda nice, ya know. Having a normal life. Planting the seeds of starting a family. I always wanted something like this. I’ve worked so hard.
I’ve spent my whole life avoiding the American Dream. But honestly, it’s nice. I love it. And I couldn’t be more grateful.
Okay, here’s the deal. Last week, I fucked up. I didn’t sleep well the night before and it showed. Spec and I talked shit out, and I apologized, and here we are. Now, what happened after? That shit won’t fly with me.
Bishop, we’ve never actually come face to face before. I’m quite sure you took that for granted. Our first actual match together, your ass got pinned for the television championship. Second, you managed to grow a pair, climb a ladder and retrive the very same title you cost me. I know I’m trying to be civil, nowadays, but after the shit you and your little life partner pulled last week, civility is long out the window.
You say you want to make a name for yourselves. Establish yourselves as an elite tag team. Well, mate, you picked the wrong fucking team to do it. Dark Spectre and I, yeah we may not have had the biggest splash. But you’d better be damn sure that we will at least be known as the guys who rid Action Wrestling, and the world, of two little pests with inferiority complexes.
You brag and brag. You beat Gravedigger. So fucking what, mate. Digger is far past his prime. Meet somebody like me in Hell in a Cell. Or even just in this match. And I can promise you something.
Mark my words. You will NOT walk out of that arena well. If you walk out at all.