Post by Jeremiah Gail on Mar 16, 2020 22:13:09 GMT -5
At a deserted bar somewhere in Indianapolis, Jeremiah Gail sits at a table, drinking a beer. Next to him is a man with a bullet hole through his chest, and on the table is a large brown bag. Jeremiah takes a swig of his beer, then begins pulling out of the bag gold coins, which he stacks on the table. Then, he begins to speak.
“People ask me sometimes, why do I do it? Why am I a bandit? They say ‘You know, you’re pretty good at wrestling. Why not settle down, stop running from the law?’ Now, more often then not, I’ll shoot the sumbitch for questioning me. But sometimes, it does leave me wonderin’, what makes me tick, keeps the ol’ motor running? And I think I figured it all out by looking at the victims.”
Jeremiah then pulls out three gold pieces, each with the image of one of his opponents: Adam Bass, Archimedes Skrue, and Lola Allardyce. He sets the three coins on the table then picks up the Adam Bass coin.
“Adam Bass. Man, I’ve never seen a more obvious mark in my life. See, most people are careful with their money. At least, the smart ones are. But you? You flaunt your wealth, make it apart of your image, make it your strength. And, well, it’s worked out pretty well for you, hasn’t it? But, see, what makes you so mighty and holier-than-the-rest is exactly what makes you vulnerable to people like me. Because the more you have to gain, the more you have to lose. And come Monday, you will lose it all, Uncle Pennybags.”
“Professor Archimedes Skrue. Can I call you Skrueball, bud? Alright, Skrueball, you’re a weird little bugger. You put all your trust in what you’ve got up here” Jermiah taps the side of his head. “And boy, Skrueball, you’re about 51 cards short, eh?!?" Jeremiah laughs and takes a swig of beer. "I mean all this stuff about ‘Ancient Ones’ and fish faces?!? That is one wacky campfire story man!!!" Jeremiah continues guffawing, then stops suddenly, his eyes ice cold. "But that’s just it, Skrueball. They’re all just stories. And for all this knowledge you’ve got, you don’t pay enough attention to the here and now. Which is why I’ll end up kicking your face off, and taking all that knowledge for myself before leaving you for dead.”
“And finally. Lola Alladryce. I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Lola, I respect the hell out of you. I’m no stranger to doing time, and it leaves most people a hollow shell of their former self. But you, you got guts girl! You’re pretty far from my type, I stay the hell away from psycho tattooed freaks myself, but I feel we’re sorta..." Jeremiah snaps his fingers, looking for the word. "...kindred spirits, if you catch my drift. But I ain’t goin' soft on you, Ms. Alladryce. Whether I like it or not, I’m going through you come Monday. And when I do, I’ll be taking that iron will and determination of yours with me.”
Jeremiah picks up the three coins, fanning them out in his hand.
“So, what is it that makes me steal? It’s real simple. Power. But not in a general sense. I’d be a businessman if I wanted everyday, run of the mill power. No, I want to take power. Money. Knowledge. Guts. *points at each coin* If you have it, I want it. And after this Monday, well. Three people will lose their power.”
Jeremiah lets the three coins slip through his fingers back into the bag.
“They’ll be left as just another bounty for me. And that. Is why I’m The Bandit King.”
Jeremiah finishes his beer, slings the bags over his shoulder, and walks out of the bar.
“People ask me sometimes, why do I do it? Why am I a bandit? They say ‘You know, you’re pretty good at wrestling. Why not settle down, stop running from the law?’ Now, more often then not, I’ll shoot the sumbitch for questioning me. But sometimes, it does leave me wonderin’, what makes me tick, keeps the ol’ motor running? And I think I figured it all out by looking at the victims.”
Jeremiah then pulls out three gold pieces, each with the image of one of his opponents: Adam Bass, Archimedes Skrue, and Lola Allardyce. He sets the three coins on the table then picks up the Adam Bass coin.
“Adam Bass. Man, I’ve never seen a more obvious mark in my life. See, most people are careful with their money. At least, the smart ones are. But you? You flaunt your wealth, make it apart of your image, make it your strength. And, well, it’s worked out pretty well for you, hasn’t it? But, see, what makes you so mighty and holier-than-the-rest is exactly what makes you vulnerable to people like me. Because the more you have to gain, the more you have to lose. And come Monday, you will lose it all, Uncle Pennybags.”
“Professor Archimedes Skrue. Can I call you Skrueball, bud? Alright, Skrueball, you’re a weird little bugger. You put all your trust in what you’ve got up here” Jermiah taps the side of his head. “And boy, Skrueball, you’re about 51 cards short, eh?!?" Jeremiah laughs and takes a swig of beer. "I mean all this stuff about ‘Ancient Ones’ and fish faces?!? That is one wacky campfire story man!!!" Jeremiah continues guffawing, then stops suddenly, his eyes ice cold. "But that’s just it, Skrueball. They’re all just stories. And for all this knowledge you’ve got, you don’t pay enough attention to the here and now. Which is why I’ll end up kicking your face off, and taking all that knowledge for myself before leaving you for dead.”
“And finally. Lola Alladryce. I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Lola, I respect the hell out of you. I’m no stranger to doing time, and it leaves most people a hollow shell of their former self. But you, you got guts girl! You’re pretty far from my type, I stay the hell away from psycho tattooed freaks myself, but I feel we’re sorta..." Jeremiah snaps his fingers, looking for the word. "...kindred spirits, if you catch my drift. But I ain’t goin' soft on you, Ms. Alladryce. Whether I like it or not, I’m going through you come Monday. And when I do, I’ll be taking that iron will and determination of yours with me.”
Jeremiah picks up the three coins, fanning them out in his hand.
“So, what is it that makes me steal? It’s real simple. Power. But not in a general sense. I’d be a businessman if I wanted everyday, run of the mill power. No, I want to take power. Money. Knowledge. Guts. *points at each coin* If you have it, I want it. And after this Monday, well. Three people will lose their power.”
Jeremiah lets the three coins slip through his fingers back into the bag.
“They’ll be left as just another bounty for me. And that. Is why I’m The Bandit King.”
Jeremiah finishes his beer, slings the bags over his shoulder, and walks out of the bar.