Eat This Mr. Sin Eater Man.
Mar 14, 2021 1:13:27 GMT -5
James Nightingale, Trey Bouchet, and 2 more like this
Post by Debra Monroe on Mar 14, 2021 1:13:27 GMT -5
Moments after Debra defeated Jayson
She took one step through the curtain and was swooped into the plexcular arms of Trey Bouchet. He swung her in a twirl, stealing the trademark hug.
“Holy Plexmoly! You did it!”
She squealed with exuberance matching Trey’s and surrendered to his embrace like he’d done hers so many times before. He sat her down and marveled.
“How'd you do that new finisher? Jayson's twice your size!”
Deb no longer suffered from Jayson’s onslaught. The joy of victory had risen warmth into her bosoms, flushing her cheeks with hues of triumph.
“I dunno!” She bounced up and down, unable to contain herself.
“ I felt you inside me, Trey! I could suplex a mountain!”
Trey joined her bouncing.
“You gotta name it something cool!”
The gears turned in her huggable head.
“The Bouchet Suplay? Oh, how about ‘Be Trey’d’. Get it? It was a hug but then I plexed him! Total beTREYal!”
They eased off the celebration and Trey rubbed his chin. Those were good names, but he’s too humble for tributes.
“How about catering to you more than me? Like, uhhhh. ‘The Deb-A-Stator’!”
Debbie’s hazel orbs grew saucer shaped.
“Naaaaaiiiiled it! That’s it!”
They high-fived, missed, but acted like they didn’t miss. Trey gestured for her to come with him but she nodded the offer away.
“I’ll catch up in a bit. Gotta hug Jayson.”
Trey nodded at first, but then rubbed his chin. Debra had yet to experience the awful taste of defeat. Trey had, and although he was humble enough to learn from it and get better, Jayson was a different animal. There was no telling what disposition Jayson would be in when he came through the curtain. He might be totally chill about the loss, or he might lash out violently.
“Actually I kinda need help with some pre-match training for Sam, and Johnny B isn’t here. Can you go over some stuff with me? It might be better to let Jayson cool down some before going hug mode.”
Deb hesitated, looking to the curtain and back at Trey several times. She preferred delivering hugs hot and fresh, but she relented and smacked him on the shoulder.
“Alrighty. Let's get you revved up for the kid that groves.”
_____________________________________________________
Friday, March 12, 2021
Meridian, Mississippi
Her muscles burned. Her body ached. Her eyelids felt like weights upon her irises. Debra’s rigorous training for Byron had been challenging, and now she waived a shower and flopped onto the hotel room bed to rest.
She committed to a self-hug and gave herself over to REM sleep. During her residence there, she dreamt of her friends. Trey’s smiling face. Johnny B’s energetic musings. Mae’s happy face when she hugged her. Lissie permitting the hug after being exposed. NATE! The little girls in the front row with their “Debbie Do” top knot ponytails to look like her.
Then, she was on the banks of an ominous river. Jayson Price floated by, face white and lips purple, dead. Yet he spoke.
”You can’t help us all.”
Deb’s heart hammered against her chest. She tried pulling him out but couldn’t reach him. Someone else caught her eye, and her soul sank. It was Private Bailey. She stood on the other side of the river with her dead face contorted in the unnatural way Deb last saw it in. Complete despair swamped Debra. All the things she wanted to tell Bailey after her death, the apologies, the whole lot, disappeared again.
”BAILEY!” Debbie tried crossing the river but an invisible barrier prevented her. She fought it with all her might but to no avail. To her confusion and horror, Byron Bathory appeared on the river, walking on water like Christ did. He held out his hands toward Deb and Bailey, offering to make things right for them. Bailey moved first…
”Bailey, come here honey… please!”
Bailey ignored her. Debra’s heart thundered so hard it crippled her chest and shoulders. She felt the barrier yield to Byron’s presence and she threw herself into the river, swimming toward Bailey, drowning-
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
She jolted awake. It took a moment to compose herself after the dream. Luckily it was just a dream. Not the first type. Wouldn't be the last. The knocking continued until she stumbled over and opened the door.
The Action Wrestling production crew were at it again. They’d used a flying drone to do Deb’s promo a few weeks ago. They then used a toy RC truck under a bathroom stall she was pooping in last week, which didn’t go over well. In fact, she had to foot the bill for a freelance crew to do her promo from the Hall of Fame center last week.
Now?
She stood at the door at zero dark thirty in the morning, looking at the piece of paper that had a grid coordinate on it. Not an address. Nothing simple. The rest of the note gave her directives for her mandatory promotional piece.
And she didn’t like it. They wanted her there soon.
Debra gathered her belongings and drove to the location. She’d expected the place to be in the middle of nowhere, or perhaps a pornographic shop or something. It was actually just a quaint Ma and Pa diner in Meridian, Mississippi. The waitress met her at the door and led her to a table that was already decked out with plates of food. There was an Action Wrestling promo video camera in the seat.
”They told me to give you this, Ms. Debra.” The young, petite waitress handed her a note.
It read:
”We’re sorry about the RC toy truck last week. We’re underpaid by Action Wrestling and very stressed when working with so many psychopaths. We’ve been abused by some of them and we don’t even get HAZARDOUS DUTY PAY! You seemed too nice to hurt us so we’ve been blowing off steam at your expense honestly. Here’s some food as thanks for being a good sport and letting us troll you. We’ve left you a video camera to shoot your required promo. We thought this would be a good spot since you’re facing the Sin Eater guy who likes to eat. You’re not good at ‘shooting’ on people so maybe this can inspire you some.”
Deb wasn’t sure how she felt about the note. Conflicted, she sat down and thought about it for a moment, partaking in some food as she did. An idea hit her. She motioned the waitress over and asked for a blank menu and a permanent marker. The girl looked confused but left and returned quickly with the items.
Debbie situated the menu and scribbled a few things on it, then pressed the “record” button on the device. She adjusted herself and addressed her toughest challenge thus far: The Sin Eater Byron Bathory.
”Mr. Sin Eater, I’ve learned more about you from listening to Dionysus and Nightingale than I have from words spilling out of your own mouth.”
Nightingale especially, she remembered. The Angel of Death had stated how robust the sin is in AW, too much for any one man to consume. Perhaps it’s why she picked Action Wrestling to hug into hugmission? The sins of those on the roster are greater than her own. She could be happy here, with her sins playing the part of fish in an ocean of sharks instead of the shark in a small pond. How selfish, but human, of her.
”I like horses, Byron. They’re majestic creatures. They hold beauty and strength. They’ve been paraded at fancy shows for the rich folk, and they’ve carried warriors into battle. I never wish to see one dead, or even imagine one dead. So I dang sure won’t beat the dead horse when it comes to you. To the contrary, I think what you’re doing is strangely nice.”
Debra felt weird for saying it. She bit some bacon to beat away at that weirdness.
”Yeah. Only one other person in history absorbed, ate, defeated the sins of us all. He died then rose again 2,021 years ago. Now here you are, eating your opponents’ sins, getting buried, then rising again to continue your mission. You’re doing it for selfish reasons I suppose, but that doesn’t take away from the good you’re doing. Just be careful, man. If you eat too much sin, a certain someone might get jealous and you’ll find a lightning bolt with your name on it.”
The Debster jotted something else down on the blank menu.
”It’s kinda odd. Under different circumstances, we could’ve been really good friends. Our helpful ways are strange to most. You seek to beat the sins out and swallow them. I seek to put their sins and fears into hugmission. It’s a shame that despite the similarities, we’re too different. It's good for a challenge in the ring though. This booking was solid. We’re both coming off huge wins. We both have what it takes to make a run for a belt. Yes, Byron, you heard me right. I know people drag you through the mud about your win-loss record, but they don’t see the devil in the details like I do.”
Debbie confidently waved a fork of sausage and wolfed it down.
”Had John Black not abandoned you to settle his beef with Darren Marsh, you could've prevailed against CJ and Dandy. Had Alice not trifled in your match against Nightingale and Mathias, you could have won that one too. By the way, where was Lady Envy during that exchange? She should’ve taken out Alice. Just saying.”
She shrugged and scribbled something else down on the blank menu.
”The way I see it, you’re not 2-4, you’re 2-2. And you’ve gained invaluable experience just being in the ring with all those greats. I’d forfeit my next 1,000 hugs to share the ring with them. But that was then, and this is now. You’ve made mistakes in other matches, and the biggest mistake you can make in this match is thinking I’m some silly misguided woman. Another mistake you can make is thinking I’m no different than Jeffrey Cuddletrousers. Yes, I’m nice. But it isn’t a mask. I know that no matter how many hugs I give out, it won’t change what I’ve done. It’s not about that though. It’s about changing the future, not the past. Part of that future is forming bonds with the likes of my friend Johnny B, who defeated and meme’d you. And yes, he’s spilled the beans on what works and doesn’t work in the ring against you. Here’s another thing you’re not going to like.”
She stopped eating. She stopped scribbling on the blank menu. She took a moment to reconcile this with herself.
”Your strength is eating the sins of your foes. Byron, every night when I shut my eyes I’m force fed my sins by the cruel cortex in my head, over and over again. So come match time, I’m not going to have any sins to offer up to you. There’s not much I can offer up to you for feasting, except maybe these mama-jammas."
She rolled her fingers into balls of fury and threw some punches. If the witty Johnny Bacchus was here, he’d snark about how fists are an acquired taste for Byron by now, considering his win-loss record.
”And these too..”
She turned the modified menu toward the lens, showing a new menu geared for their match.
*SORRY WE’RE OUT OF SINS. PLEASE SELECT FROM THE MENU BELOW*
Boot Stew… Free.43
Elbow Soup… Free.38
Headbutt Casserole… Free.56
Knee Nugget Platter… Free.88
Foot Fajita… Free.23
House Special: Knuckle Sandwhich… Free.99
~All meals come with complimentary Mashed Faceholes and 32oz cup of Shut the Hug Up!~
Pride filled her. She'd done a savage 'shoot' thing! Pew-pew finger pistols. Blows smoke off them. She felt bad for not offering a hug, but her hug senses told her Byron's allergic.
End.