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Post by Beau Del Sol on Feb 25, 2018 11:13:19 GMT -5
Bike O'Rama
Bandito: So you got a beef with Gravedigger?
John: That's right.
Bandito: And you understand who this man is?
John: Are you fucking serious, I've been dealing with the asshole since I was sixteen. It's my time now.
Bandito: And on national television?
John: I need your help if I want to put him down quickly.
Bandito: Yea well that's not how this works unless you've got a nice wad of cash which it doesn't look like you do.
John: I know how this works. Jump me in and I'll ride for life cause your right I don't have shit for money.
Bandito: I'm suppose to trust you, off your word?
John: Initiate me. I've got no family just my brother Jay. I need a brotherhood and I need revenge!
Bandito: it's not that easy but we've been watching you. You've got a lot of potential. Be here tonight and we'll see if you really wanna do this, by the way I'm Toker.
[John gave Toker a fist bump and walked away anxiously trying to hold back the racing thoughts of the initiation. Big John had been through a couple "initiations " so he was familiar with the base content of this trial and the severity that could be packaged with it. John threw his leg over his chopper and looked back at Toker.]
Frost: See ya tonight!
Toker: Be there or be dead.
---8:30 PM later that night at Outlaw Country...---
[John came rumbling into the gravel parking lot backing his bike in line with the other bikes. He killed the engine, leaning the chopper over on its kickstand. He walked to the old saloon double doors, the smell of smoke and boos pouring out into the fresh night air. For the first time in a long time John was nervous. He rolled his neck, popping it, and pushed through the doors walking to the bar calling for two shots. Toker walked up behind him putting his hand on John's shoulder.]
Toker: Trying to calm the nerves big guy?
John: Just need some alcohol in the bloodstream. When are we doing this?
Toker: Damn man, why so serious?
John: When are we doing this?
Toker: Right now. Follow me.
[John stood and followed Toker through the bar as he shook hands and said hi to different patrons and members in the bar. A few patched members got up following Toker and John to the back. There was a metal door and two deadbolts on it. Toker looked back and grinned pushing it open. As John came inside he saw a bike shop. Hoists hung from ceiling and V-Twin engines where split open on stainless steel workbenches. Several different kinds of bikes sat on bike stands, obviously missing parts. This was no joke. These guys were the real deal in Vegas and just as quickly as Frost took it all in a member behind him grabbed the collar of his shirt pushing him forward through another door outside. As his boots scraped across the gravel there was a half circle of men, around 12 or 13 of them. A man pushed through the group walking up to John, it was Marshall Gates!]
John: Hey! I didn't know you ran with the Bandidos!
Marshall: There's a lot you don't know.
[Gates gave John a big headbutt and out of natural reaction Frost grabbed his bleeding knows. WHAM! Marshall landed a low blow kicking him square in the nuts watch the big man go to his knees. Gates paused and looked around at the other members and turned back to John kicking him in the ribs putting Frost on his back, still catering to his nose. Gates circled Frost like a lion looking for an open kill on a wounded Zebra. WAP! Marshall punted John right in the head. Gates took a knee leaning over looking John in the eyes.]
Marshall: I don't just wrestle and I'm sure as hell not just your trainer. I'm a retired member of the Bandidos and after they saw how you made your way to me they took interest. Your a lost soul "Big" John Frost, you need friends, a family, a fucking brotherhood. It all depends on how bad you want it. Do you want it real bad? Can you taste it in your mouth? Can you smell and feel it? Can you live by the bikers code by our lifestyle?
[John nodded his head yes and Gates stepped back snapping his fingers as he disappeared by the men moving toward Frost. John got to one knee and immediately got kneed in the face. The other men reached him leaning over and reigning down lefts and rights, while others stomped and kicked him. Frost finally gave up and rolled into a ball trying to protect his head and body. Marshall stood back smoking a cigar. He whistled calling the men off.]
Marshall: That's enough it's been 3 minutes.
[Gates walked over to Frost who was basically disabled and ribbed his shirt open putting his,cigar out on Frost as he winced in pain. Another large, barrel cheated man stepped forward. He wore a Bandido's vest with no shirt. Several rings weighed down his fingers on both hands.]
Unknown: You still want this life, son?
John: Yea.
Unknown: I'm Wretched, the president of this chapter.
John: How do you do?
Wretched: By the looks of it a lot better than you. Boys pick him up and put him in the lockdown chair.
[Four men lifted John to his feet and drug him to the chair against the wall. It was a metal chair with chains welded to it. They put Frost in the chair promptly chaining him down in several places. One of the larger men rared back and knocked the shit out of Frost causing his head to slump.]
John: Piss off. Try that when I'm not chained and half dead.
Wretched: Marshall said you were full of piss and vinegar, I like it. Do you understand what's going on?
John: Initiation.
Wretched: It's so much more than that kid. Your reputation precedes you. Not many Americans find their way home from foreign prisons and not many men carry a set of nuts like you. Between what we've observed and what Mr. Gates has told us I'm going to be generous enough to let you skip a few phases of our program to become a patched member, but it will come at a price.
John: Then do it already or do you need some fucking motivation.
[John lifted his head spitting blood at the boots of Wretched. He locked eyes with him and threw his head back leaning against the back of the chair. Then it happened... A big pile of human urine and feces where dumped over John's head. He went into a fit of rage cussing and yanking at the chain restraints.]
Wretched: You wanted to jump right to a patch. Go through our hell or get put in a pine box. Enjoy your cologne courtesy of the Bandidos. And kid this is a way of life, a lifestyle, not a hobby. Don't forget that.
---Early The Next Morning---
Wretched: Good morning sunshine!
[Wretched back handed the shit out of Frost making him wake up quickly and promptly. He instinctively rocked the chair and pulled at the chains. He finally stopped looking at his surroundings. The sun was peeking over the partly cloudy blue horizon and was casting shadows of a few bikes and John's beat up Action Wrestling truck. Men where coming in and out of the truck carry different boxes.]
John: What the fuck are you doing with my truck?
Wretched: Your next task. You skipped being a hang-around and a probie so your process to membership is a little more intensive my friend and if you let me down Marshall will get punished right beside you.
John: I didn't ask for anything from him.
Wretched: Well, he is your sponsor.
John: Alright. Unchain me so I can get this nasty crap off me.
Wretched: your going to get unchained, but first you've got to take care of what's in that box truck.
[Wretched unchained John and shoved a piece of paper in his doused sewer shirt and shoved him towards the truck. Frost looked back and Wretched gave him a thumbs up.]
Wretched: You do this the right way and we'll accept you as a Nomad member, since you'll be all over the country anyway. Peace brother.
[Marshall walked up the ramp into the back of his truck. He immediately covered his nose. This smell was even more pungent than his own. As he gagged he looked around at boxes stacked on boxes. He walked over to one grabbing the lid...]
Marshall: You sure you want to open that? Once you know your guilty. Catch my drift?
[Marshall grinned at him and you could see curiosity getting the better of Frost as he popped the lid open and peaked in. A strong odor escaped the container and John fought back his urge to regurgitate, immediately doubling over.]
John: WHAT THE FUCK MARSHALL!?
Marshall: I told you not to look inside.
John: Chopped up body parts?
Marshall: Oh your no choir boy, it's just been awhile since you were around something dead. Hell at least it's not a whole body.
John: No, Marshall it's just several bodies freaking cut up.
Marshall: To far in to get out now. Come on, get in the truck. I'm tired of patting your ass.
John: Fuck you.
[John crawled into the passenger side and Marshall kicked over the engine. After a few plumes of smoke where exhausted out the engine finally caught kicking on with a loud rumble. A somewhat warm AC kicked on and Marshall turned the radio catching "Hotel California" by the Eagles. He hit the gas and off they went.]
John: A biker gang? I never would've thought.
Marshall: When you need family and you wanna have a good time this is what you do. But I'm semi-retired now so I'm not involved as I used to be, however I am involved enough to sponsor you.
John: I'm gonna level with you. I'm doing this to handle Gravedigger.
Marshall: I know, they know. It's a top priority for the Banditos, why do you think I got involved with Action Wrestling? If I loved the business and the ring rats I'd still be signed to WCF and the non-existent Seth Lerch. Holy shit look up ahead we're about to have some fun. Hang on shit licker! YEEEEEEHAAAAAAAW!
[John squinted his eyes making out a police car parked on the side of the road. Marshall was howling and shaking his seat as he pulled on the steering wheel. The old truck was throttled out. The engine sounded like a jet engine roaring to break the sound of speed.]
John: HEY MORON THERES A COP!
Marshall: YEA AND I GOT HIS GODDAMN BACON! OINK OINK PIGGY!
[The truck sped by, shaking the cop car with draft win, as it went at a surprisingly high speed. The officer immediately threw on his lights and came peeling out of the desert sand, the ass end of the car jerking back and forth. Within a handful of seconds the cop was right on the tail of the truck.]
Officer: PULL OVER THE VEHICLE NOW!
John: Your an idiot! Great now I'm going to spend the rest of my life in prison.
Marshaall: Relax and play it cool. Don't get all revved up. Then they'll know somethings up.
John: No shit? Who woulda guessed that? Now pull this rat trap over.
[As the cop continually yelled out of the loud speaker the box truck finally pulled off into the sand coming to a halt. The cop car positioned itself directly behind the truck. Then he looked over at his partner.]
Officer 1: I bet you two hot dogs from your convenient store of choice that you can't scare the holy shit out of one of these guys.
Officer 2: You're on.
[The cops made their way to either side of the truck. The acidic smell immediately hit them as they walked up on the truck.]
Officer 1: Jesus Christ what is that SMELL!?
Marshall: Sorry officer my boy here got caught between fresh shit and a hard place. The life of pulling human shit out of planes, then one thing goes wrong and you end up having a shitty day like my friend there.
Officer 1: Just hurry up and give me your license and registration.
Officer 2: Really? Shit blew all over you from a plane. That's what? At least 40 to 50 different types of shit. That's bad.
John: You don't say?
Officer 2: What your name, son?
John: John Frost, here.
[John handed him his temporary paper license and along with the other cop they went and ran the numbers at their car. After dispatch kicked back the information they went back to either sides of the truck.]
Officer 2: I need you to step out of vehicle.
Officer 1: Mr. Gates I need you to step out as well.
[John and Marshall hopped out of the truck as the cops shoved them against the truck and started throwing handcuffs on.]
Marshall: We didn't do anything wrong!
Officer 1: Not yet anyway. The big man here just got out of a prison in Russia... That explains a lot. And you Mr. Gates seem to be affiliated with a biker gang and criminal activity.
Marshall: Biker club.
Officer 1: Did I ask for your opinion?
John: Shut up Marshall!
Officer 2: And you big man I don't think you even have a passport. Hell you hardly have a drivers license.
Marshall: Hey guys have you heard of Action Wrestling? This are third week in Vegas!
Officer 1: Wait a minute... Your "Big" John Frost AND your a bad influence on the youth of America!
John: The fans love me.
Marshall: Action Wrestling is televised in more than one country...
Officer 1: SHUT UP! We're opening these doors.
[The police fling the back doors open coughing and hacking at the aroma of the truck. The first officer jumped in the back and started going through containers. He made a motion and the second cop put the men face down in the sand. They were calling for back up...]
Officer 1: You two dumb shits. One of you is a walking turd and the other has shit for brains. Boys your free to go. I called in an ambulance in case you want to make sure you don't get the shit sickness and the fire department. Somebody's gotta hose your nasty ass down.
John: What was in there?
Officer 1: Ha! Playing stupid? It was numerous parts of farm animals.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
John: So I got duped by a bunch of bikers. Their hazing rituals ended up making smell and look like shit literally, and had me thinking I was going back to prison. Fucking animal parts, it's classic, it's twisted I like it. You boys put one on very on me and I gotta say you had me goin. Now I want my patch. I'll give you worldwide exposure every Monday.
While I'm on the topic of Monday's I have a few things I want to drop about Clash. A tag team match, without my big brother. Gravedigger you paired me with TakMak, is that how you say it? Anyway Mr. Galactic ice sculpture artist you only need to do one thing and that's stand on the apron and amp up the crowd. I'll handle the two swashbuckling bitches alone and Tak you seem like you'd be a cool dude to drop acid with but Monday if you get in my way I'll destroy you too.
As for the swashbuckling bitches, why even climb in my ring, in my domain. I'm three times both of yalls size and you have the guts to get in the ring with "Big" John Frost? You two are delusional and either forgot to take your meds or you need to go get a prescription. And I will break your little bodies. Normally I wouldn't hit a woman but I'm sure you girls think your my equal, am I right? So I will break you. I will make you beg for the bell to be rung. You two are about to get your official introduction into Action Wrestling. Best of luck ladies. Start submitting resumes now because after Monday you'll be doing interviews from a hospital bed. See you soon my lovelies...
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