Post by thedrifter on Aug 20, 2011 1:19:09 GMT -5
The shiny silver aglets at the tips of bright red boot laces pop as they’re being pulled from a pair of worn black wrestling boots. Heavy breathing is heard as sweat drips onto the boots, and a red palm reaches toward the camera and angles it toward a chubby bearded face with a look of disgust upon his sweat laden brow.
The Drifter: Another video game playing, indy wrestling momma’s boy put down. Another day in the life of this ol drifter. Another piss poor pay day for busting my ass in front of these smelly ass hillbillies in Kentucky. You might be wondering what the difference between myself and these miscreants I wrestle in front of is. It’s simple. I shower, I haven’t made sexual advances towards any of my kin, and I definitely finished my schooling.
Luke McCoy slides his boots off and places them in a large duffel bag at his feet. Before he sits back up he lights himself a cigarette and retrieves a towel, a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless shirt from his bag. He lies his cigarette atop a can of Miller High Life and walks off camera. The sound of his voice becomes slightly echoed as the sound of water hitting tiles begins.
The Drifter: You know, I knocked the promoter of this show for the crap pay. But I give him credit where credit is due, he runs in a high school gymnasium that has showers. Speaking of promoters, according to a text I received from my nephew, I’m booked in a “Classy vs. Trashy” match for UWA. Ain’t that a hoot? Now some of you might be thinking I’m the trashy one in this match. Just because I like to throw back a beer or two every now then doesn’t mean I’m trashy at all. It takes a lot of nerve for someone to proclaim themselves classy though.
The sound of the shower head stops as Luke walks back into view with a towel wrapped around his waist and takes a seat and begins dressing.
The Drifter: And according to my nephew this Callahan fella has been running his gums about me. J Callahan is a bad influence on societies youth. The last thing they need is another pompous, jackass momma’s boy with a sense of self entitlement encouraging that type of attitude. There’s nothing classy about you boy, nothing classy at all. As far as the “beer muscle” is concerned. My muscle is from earning my keep as I wander across this lazy nation of ours. It’s easy to be a drifter these days, because no one wants to work their own land anymore. There’s always someone hiring someone. Their kids are stuck to their video games and computers. But that’s all the better fer me. It puts a little jingle in my pocket when I need it.
Luke pulls his shirt over his head and combs his hair before putting on a worn baseball cap. He picks up his Miller High Life and finishes it and licks a little off his top lip. He crushes the can and tosses in a nearby garbage can “Puts his dukes up” as he begins speaking again.
The Drifter: This here business, it’s all about discipline and restraint. Now here’s the thing about discipline and restraint Callahan. It’s easy for me to put back just one beer, one shot, hell even one joint and stop there. But once I start throwing these damn fists and handing out them lariats of mine, the discipline and restraint flies out the damn window. And when that happens, being in the ring with me is pure hell on earth kid. You see, I’m no rookie in this business. I’m not just a walk on looking for a quick buck. I’ve been busting my ass on the piss poor independent circuit for the better part of the last 10 or so years. I was trained by one of the hardest hitting sons a bitches that ever stepped between those ropes.
Luke reaches into his bag and retrieves another beer and pops the top, and takes a large swig. After letting out a loud belch he zips his bag up and pulls the strap over his shoulder and laughs.
The Drifter: Did you really think I was going to stop at just one? It’s Friday night! I just beat some poor kid from pillar to post. To bad I didn’t catch it on camera, it would give “Classy” J a heads up about the ass whoopin’ he’s earned by opening his mouth. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got to get on my way to Evansville, Indiana. One more indy booking before I use “Classy” J as my stepping stone to stardom. Oh and one last thing, I didn’t offer my services to UWA to take a tumbling and gymnastics class. I’m here beat the piss out of people!
Luke grabs his camera as the picture moves in all sorts of directions before going black
The Drifter: Damnit, didn't turn off my
Fade to black
The Drifter: Another video game playing, indy wrestling momma’s boy put down. Another day in the life of this ol drifter. Another piss poor pay day for busting my ass in front of these smelly ass hillbillies in Kentucky. You might be wondering what the difference between myself and these miscreants I wrestle in front of is. It’s simple. I shower, I haven’t made sexual advances towards any of my kin, and I definitely finished my schooling.
Luke McCoy slides his boots off and places them in a large duffel bag at his feet. Before he sits back up he lights himself a cigarette and retrieves a towel, a pair of blue jeans and a sleeveless shirt from his bag. He lies his cigarette atop a can of Miller High Life and walks off camera. The sound of his voice becomes slightly echoed as the sound of water hitting tiles begins.
The Drifter: You know, I knocked the promoter of this show for the crap pay. But I give him credit where credit is due, he runs in a high school gymnasium that has showers. Speaking of promoters, according to a text I received from my nephew, I’m booked in a “Classy vs. Trashy” match for UWA. Ain’t that a hoot? Now some of you might be thinking I’m the trashy one in this match. Just because I like to throw back a beer or two every now then doesn’t mean I’m trashy at all. It takes a lot of nerve for someone to proclaim themselves classy though.
The sound of the shower head stops as Luke walks back into view with a towel wrapped around his waist and takes a seat and begins dressing.
The Drifter: And according to my nephew this Callahan fella has been running his gums about me. J Callahan is a bad influence on societies youth. The last thing they need is another pompous, jackass momma’s boy with a sense of self entitlement encouraging that type of attitude. There’s nothing classy about you boy, nothing classy at all. As far as the “beer muscle” is concerned. My muscle is from earning my keep as I wander across this lazy nation of ours. It’s easy to be a drifter these days, because no one wants to work their own land anymore. There’s always someone hiring someone. Their kids are stuck to their video games and computers. But that’s all the better fer me. It puts a little jingle in my pocket when I need it.
Luke pulls his shirt over his head and combs his hair before putting on a worn baseball cap. He picks up his Miller High Life and finishes it and licks a little off his top lip. He crushes the can and tosses in a nearby garbage can “Puts his dukes up” as he begins speaking again.
The Drifter: This here business, it’s all about discipline and restraint. Now here’s the thing about discipline and restraint Callahan. It’s easy for me to put back just one beer, one shot, hell even one joint and stop there. But once I start throwing these damn fists and handing out them lariats of mine, the discipline and restraint flies out the damn window. And when that happens, being in the ring with me is pure hell on earth kid. You see, I’m no rookie in this business. I’m not just a walk on looking for a quick buck. I’ve been busting my ass on the piss poor independent circuit for the better part of the last 10 or so years. I was trained by one of the hardest hitting sons a bitches that ever stepped between those ropes.
Luke reaches into his bag and retrieves another beer and pops the top, and takes a large swig. After letting out a loud belch he zips his bag up and pulls the strap over his shoulder and laughs.
The Drifter: Did you really think I was going to stop at just one? It’s Friday night! I just beat some poor kid from pillar to post. To bad I didn’t catch it on camera, it would give “Classy” J a heads up about the ass whoopin’ he’s earned by opening his mouth. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got to get on my way to Evansville, Indiana. One more indy booking before I use “Classy” J as my stepping stone to stardom. Oh and one last thing, I didn’t offer my services to UWA to take a tumbling and gymnastics class. I’m here beat the piss out of people!
Luke grabs his camera as the picture moves in all sorts of directions before going black
The Drifter: Damnit, didn't turn off my
Fade to black