Post by PsYcho on Jun 23, 2015 19:58:41 GMT -5
June 20th, 1 p.m.
Just outside Savannah, GA along I-95
"Like...........do you want me to take the wheel for a bit? You've been driving since daybreak!"
"There's a rest area just ahead. I think I'll take you up on that, Jules."
The old Buick Regal was running like a scawlded dog, much to PsYcho and Julie's surprise. Although it had been well maintained and garage kept over the past three years, it was still a 1977 Buick Regal that was pushing 450,000 miles on the original engine and transmission. It was the only car that Mike "PsYcho" Price had ever owned: purchased the day after his 18th birthday back in 1983. Despite the age of the vehicle, it had never let him down.
Neither had Julie Chapman.
Julie was a former exotic dancer from the Baton Rouge, Louisiana suburbs. PsYcho had picked her up hitchhiking one night after a dispute with the owner of the gentleman's club that had employed her. He gave her a lift to her apartment that night and out of pity, hired her on the spot as his new manager: despite having zero experience in the wrestling industry.
Since that night, she had become one of the few friends that PsYcho could always count on in a pinch. Even though she had left the business a few years prior and settled in Miami, her she was: riding roughshot along I-95 with her old Hardcore Hero. All it took was a late night knock on her door and boom! They're travelling an estimated 1250 miles to Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania: looking for a man that may or may not even be there!
As they pull into the rest area, take a quick bathroom break, and swap drivers, Julie again asks the question that Cyke has seemingly avoided answering from the moment he showed up at her doorstep 10 hours ago.
"Cyke, you know that I'm like.....always here for you...and stuff."
"Yeah."
"I just.....you know.....can't help but wonder exactly what happened to you all of these years."
"Jules.....those bastards kicked in my front door on New Year's Eve, just as I was watching the ball drop and was about to head to bed. If you'll recall, they'd been to my house before: they brutally raped my pregnant daughter right in front of her husband and bashed both of my son's kneecaps in with a lead pipe."
"Mikey had earned a full ride to Texas A&M, Julie! He was going to compete for the starting Middle Linebacker job as a true Freshman!! All of that came to a screeching halt that night."
"YEAH!!! I remember that.....I flew into Amarillo and saw them both while they were hospitalized. You had already left."
"Anyway, back to my story, here I was on New Year's Eve, face to face with Jesse Styles and a pack of his thugs.......in my own living room. I gave them a run for their money, but at the end of the day, five on one odds are still five on one odds. I woke up three days later: strapped to a chair aboard a ship known as The Narcissist. The first thing I saw was a small TV mounted on the wall with footage from my funeral playing on a continuous loop. I'll never forget, I heard a voice over the ship's PA system.....'Oh, so you're finally awake! As you can see, the whole world thinks you're dead. No one even knows that you're even missing.....'
I knew right away, that no one was coming. I'd have to free myself somehow."
"Cyke, but that was three years ago! What took you so long to get home..........and stuff?"
"Jules, it's a long way to Wilkes-Barre, I'll tell the whole story...."
"So, there I was, strapped to a chair on this ship. These bastards would come in the room at all hours and beat me senseless: demanding to know about the Adelbert Syxx treasure. I kept telling them over and over that the family had lost track of it's location about 200 years ago, but they weren't buying it."
"I was telling them the truth, Julie: we honest to God do not know where that shit is stashed!"
"Anyway, sometime around Valentine's Day of that year, my son Mikey shows up in New Edge Wrestling! Apparently, he's got a little of his old man's fighting spirit in him. Styles used that to torment me even more. It was bad enough that these men were beating me within an inch of my life on a daily basis, but they forced me to watch helplessly as they did the same thing to my son on live TV! They'd air their show on a constant loop in the cell that had become my home."
"My GoD! I never knew that they took it that far!!! Cyke..........that must've been terrible!"
"Worst experience of my entire life. One day, they let some vital information slip: we were in international waters. Thoughts began to race through my mind: 'if I killed these guys here and now, and someone recovered their bodies before the sharks did, what could they possibly do? If I am indeed legally dead, how could they ever pin the murders on me?"
"So you killed them?"
"I killed them all, Julie. Everyone aboard that ship. I used my own body weight to crush the chair that I'd been bound to for so many months. I used splintered pieces of wood as shanks to brutally stab every man aboard that vessel and tossed their bodies into The Caribbean! I was a free man.....or so I thought. As it turns out, I'm not much of a sailor.
I crashed the ship into a reef somewhere near Cuba and had to swim for my life. It's just as well though: if Jesse knew his ship had sank, maybe he'd assume that I was still onboard. Things didn't get much easier when I reached Havana, though. Castro swore up and down that I was a spy sent by The U.S. Government and had me arrested. The fact that I'd been declared legally dead only raised his suspicions."
"WOW!!! So....how'd you escape prison?"
"Well, I got lucky. About a week ago, there was a huge riot. Although I had nothing to do with said riot, I sided with the prisoners and we overtook the guards. As it turns out, those Cubans are pretty good in a fight. One of them had a boat waiting out in the harbor and took me aboard. We escaped Cuban waters and made our way to Miami. From there, we all went our separate ways."
"So like........you made your way to my doorstep....all without an escape plan...and stuff?"
"Julie, sometimes, the best laid plans are made up on the fly!
"Whaddya mean by that, Cyke?"
"Well, let's take this one for example: we're driving 18-19 hours to Wilkes-Barre, for a wrestling show that may or may not even book me, to look for a man that may or may not even be there. Sounds kind of crazy, doesn't it?"
"It's an open invitational battle royal, Cyke! Of course you're going to get booked! But as far as the rest of it goes, yeah....it doesn't really sound like a good plan when you say it like that."
"Well, the way I see it, we've got to start looking somewhere. Worst case scenario: none of Styles' men are there. At the very least, I get to shake a little ring rust and earn enough cash to take us to our next gig."
"Here's something I don't think you've really thought about....and stuff: what if you like, win the battle royal and along with it, the shot at the NAW Horizon Championship?"
"Well, when that happens, not IF but WHEN, I guess we'll hang around Pennsylvania for a little longer than we expected."
"Jules, I'm going to lay the seat back and catch a few z's. Keep it around 55 and wake me up when we hit The Carolinas."
With that, a road weary PsYcho drifts off to sleep as Julie reaches the halfway point of the journey: somewhere near Hilton Head Island.
Just outside Savannah, GA along I-95
"Like...........do you want me to take the wheel for a bit? You've been driving since daybreak!"
"There's a rest area just ahead. I think I'll take you up on that, Jules."
The old Buick Regal was running like a scawlded dog, much to PsYcho and Julie's surprise. Although it had been well maintained and garage kept over the past three years, it was still a 1977 Buick Regal that was pushing 450,000 miles on the original engine and transmission. It was the only car that Mike "PsYcho" Price had ever owned: purchased the day after his 18th birthday back in 1983. Despite the age of the vehicle, it had never let him down.
Neither had Julie Chapman.
Julie was a former exotic dancer from the Baton Rouge, Louisiana suburbs. PsYcho had picked her up hitchhiking one night after a dispute with the owner of the gentleman's club that had employed her. He gave her a lift to her apartment that night and out of pity, hired her on the spot as his new manager: despite having zero experience in the wrestling industry.
Since that night, she had become one of the few friends that PsYcho could always count on in a pinch. Even though she had left the business a few years prior and settled in Miami, her she was: riding roughshot along I-95 with her old Hardcore Hero. All it took was a late night knock on her door and boom! They're travelling an estimated 1250 miles to Wilkes-Barre Pennsylvania: looking for a man that may or may not even be there!
As they pull into the rest area, take a quick bathroom break, and swap drivers, Julie again asks the question that Cyke has seemingly avoided answering from the moment he showed up at her doorstep 10 hours ago.
"Cyke, you know that I'm like.....always here for you...and stuff."
"Yeah."
"I just.....you know.....can't help but wonder exactly what happened to you all of these years."
"Jules.....those bastards kicked in my front door on New Year's Eve, just as I was watching the ball drop and was about to head to bed. If you'll recall, they'd been to my house before: they brutally raped my pregnant daughter right in front of her husband and bashed both of my son's kneecaps in with a lead pipe."
"Mikey had earned a full ride to Texas A&M, Julie! He was going to compete for the starting Middle Linebacker job as a true Freshman!! All of that came to a screeching halt that night."
"YEAH!!! I remember that.....I flew into Amarillo and saw them both while they were hospitalized. You had already left."
"Anyway, back to my story, here I was on New Year's Eve, face to face with Jesse Styles and a pack of his thugs.......in my own living room. I gave them a run for their money, but at the end of the day, five on one odds are still five on one odds. I woke up three days later: strapped to a chair aboard a ship known as The Narcissist. The first thing I saw was a small TV mounted on the wall with footage from my funeral playing on a continuous loop. I'll never forget, I heard a voice over the ship's PA system.....'Oh, so you're finally awake! As you can see, the whole world thinks you're dead. No one even knows that you're even missing.....'
I knew right away, that no one was coming. I'd have to free myself somehow."
"Cyke, but that was three years ago! What took you so long to get home..........and stuff?"
"Jules, it's a long way to Wilkes-Barre, I'll tell the whole story...."
"So, there I was, strapped to a chair on this ship. These bastards would come in the room at all hours and beat me senseless: demanding to know about the Adelbert Syxx treasure. I kept telling them over and over that the family had lost track of it's location about 200 years ago, but they weren't buying it."
"I was telling them the truth, Julie: we honest to God do not know where that shit is stashed!"
"Anyway, sometime around Valentine's Day of that year, my son Mikey shows up in New Edge Wrestling! Apparently, he's got a little of his old man's fighting spirit in him. Styles used that to torment me even more. It was bad enough that these men were beating me within an inch of my life on a daily basis, but they forced me to watch helplessly as they did the same thing to my son on live TV! They'd air their show on a constant loop in the cell that had become my home."
"My GoD! I never knew that they took it that far!!! Cyke..........that must've been terrible!"
"Worst experience of my entire life. One day, they let some vital information slip: we were in international waters. Thoughts began to race through my mind: 'if I killed these guys here and now, and someone recovered their bodies before the sharks did, what could they possibly do? If I am indeed legally dead, how could they ever pin the murders on me?"
"So you killed them?"
"I killed them all, Julie. Everyone aboard that ship. I used my own body weight to crush the chair that I'd been bound to for so many months. I used splintered pieces of wood as shanks to brutally stab every man aboard that vessel and tossed their bodies into The Caribbean! I was a free man.....or so I thought. As it turns out, I'm not much of a sailor.
I crashed the ship into a reef somewhere near Cuba and had to swim for my life. It's just as well though: if Jesse knew his ship had sank, maybe he'd assume that I was still onboard. Things didn't get much easier when I reached Havana, though. Castro swore up and down that I was a spy sent by The U.S. Government and had me arrested. The fact that I'd been declared legally dead only raised his suspicions."
"WOW!!! So....how'd you escape prison?"
"Well, I got lucky. About a week ago, there was a huge riot. Although I had nothing to do with said riot, I sided with the prisoners and we overtook the guards. As it turns out, those Cubans are pretty good in a fight. One of them had a boat waiting out in the harbor and took me aboard. We escaped Cuban waters and made our way to Miami. From there, we all went our separate ways."
"So like........you made your way to my doorstep....all without an escape plan...and stuff?"
"Julie, sometimes, the best laid plans are made up on the fly!
"Whaddya mean by that, Cyke?"
"Well, let's take this one for example: we're driving 18-19 hours to Wilkes-Barre, for a wrestling show that may or may not even book me, to look for a man that may or may not even be there. Sounds kind of crazy, doesn't it?"
"It's an open invitational battle royal, Cyke! Of course you're going to get booked! But as far as the rest of it goes, yeah....it doesn't really sound like a good plan when you say it like that."
"Well, the way I see it, we've got to start looking somewhere. Worst case scenario: none of Styles' men are there. At the very least, I get to shake a little ring rust and earn enough cash to take us to our next gig."
"Here's something I don't think you've really thought about....and stuff: what if you like, win the battle royal and along with it, the shot at the NAW Horizon Championship?"
"Well, when that happens, not IF but WHEN, I guess we'll hang around Pennsylvania for a little longer than we expected."
"Jules, I'm going to lay the seat back and catch a few z's. Keep it around 55 and wake me up when we hit The Carolinas."
With that, a road weary PsYcho drifts off to sleep as Julie reaches the halfway point of the journey: somewhere near Hilton Head Island.