Post by BRADDOCK on Oct 30, 2023 19:11:34 GMT -5
The instantly recognizable chorus of tattoo machines sing their Siren songs on the work floor of the “Slave to the Needle” tattoo company in Stockton, California. It is half owned by the Anti-Icon BRADDOCK and he, along with a third artist, ply their trade on three haply customers. Along with BRADDOCK and his brother, Tyler, is a third artist named Brandi. She stands about five-ten and has curly brown hair that frames her tattooed and pierced face. In the waiting area, one of the customers girlfriend sits, playing on her phone.
BRADDOCK and his brother sit with their backs to each other to enable easier communication. BRADDOCK’s head pounds occasionally when his hangover decides to flare up and inflict more misery. It doesn’t effect his tattooing abilities, however, as he has learned to live with hangovers. It’s part of the price you pay when you drink like a fish most days. He finishes up the shading on the face of a “Tarman" tattoo, a character from “Return of the Living Dead,” before sitting back to really check it out. Both he and the customer, the twenty-something boyfriend of the chick hanging out in the waiting area.
Braddock grins, he knows he knocked this piece out of the park, and nods to himself. The customer looks down at his calf and grins like a fool while digging his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a few pics of the tattoo before tossing a couple of twenties at BRADDOCK as a tip.
He is so wrapped up in posting a pic of the tattoo and showing it off to his girlfriend, that he forgets to thank the artist. BRADDOCK gives him the finger when he looks back over his shoulder and his excited smile quickly melts into a confused scowl, but he and his lady continue walking. BRADDOCK cleans up his station and fist bumps his brother before doing the same with Brandi. He then dips out and heads back to his trailer where Mary Jane, O.C.W. enhancement talent, waits on his couch with his bong in hand.
The bong is made of crystal and is in the shape of a human skull. The stalk exits the top of the skull and is about a foot and a half long while the stem and bowl exit via the skulls “mouth,” and made to look like a pipe. She flashes him a broad grin and her eyes are at half mast. Apparently, she is only wearing a Dirty Heads tour t-shirt and a pair of knee high white tube socks. He enters his kitchen and grabs a Pabst tallboy from the fridge before making his way to the seat next to her on his couch.
On the television Brad Pitt commands his tank crew in the movie “Fury.” She passes him the bong and lighter and he takes a long rip from it before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. On the screen, Pitt just forced a young addition to his tank crew to execute a wounded enemy. BRADDOCK’s mouth curls with the faintest whisper of a grin on his face.
”Are you worried about your match at Halloween Havoc? I mean, I know you’re probably not but, uhm, are you?” she asks. When he looks over at her, she smiles bashfully and looks away.
”I ain’t worried about shit. I’ve never even heard of this fuckin idiot I’m facin. Rex? Is he a fuckin dog?”
Mary bursts out in laughter; to her stoned ass that was one of the funniest things she had ever heard. She takes the bong from him and takes another, much smaller than his, hit.
”Are you worried about your match?” he asks, half interested and getting slowly drawn in to the movie.
”Not worried.. I think I can handle all of them. Bella will be the toughest one out of all of them, I think.” she says with the nod of her head before taking a hit from the bong.
”Uh-huh..” is all he replies. She blows her hit out and places the bong on the coffee table. She stands up and makes her way around the table and stands in front of the television. BRADDOCK scowls until she pulls her t-shirts off and tosses it on the floor.
”Let’s go to your room…” she says as she takes his hand. She leads him down the hall and as they walk, he starts to undress as well. With a giggle she leads him into the bedroom…
A handheld camera opens on BRADDOCK sitting on the table part of a picnic table, his black Jordan’s on the bench seat, in the dead, yellow grass of his backyard. Along with his Jordan's, BRADDOCK has on a black Raiders jersey with the number ninety-eight (Maxx Crosby's jersey) and a pair of black jeans cut off just below the knee. He is smoking a cigar, not a blunt, but a cigar and next to his, alongside an open Pabst tallboy, is a bottle of Jameson and a full shot flash next to it. He exhales a cloud of smoke before downing the shot.
”At Outcast Championship Wrestling’s ‘Halloween Havoc,” I face a man of mystery. There I’d literally ZERO information about Rex Maddox anywhere on the internet. I can only assume he is related to the other Maddox's that are signed by our company. But I don’t know…” he says with a shrug before pouring another shot. He exhales a much smaller plume of smoke before taking the shot he just poured and chases it with a mouthful of Pabst.
”I am the World Champion now, and will continue to be, once this pay-per-view rolls around. Donnie Harris is a tough son of a bitch, but, he isn’t tough enough to take my belt from me. At Texas Chainsaw Massacre, ol Donnie-boy is in for a rough night and a dirt nap! Courtesy of yours truly…”
BRADDOCK slips of the table and heads to his right, the cameras left, and it keeps pace with him. He only walks a half a dozen steps or so when he stops at a small campfire, in a fire pit, and is standing behind Outcast Wrestling's Mary Jane. She takes a hit from a joint before offering it to her host who pitches the stub of his cigar into the fire before taking the joint. He takes a log pull from it before giving back to Mary, who is lost in thought while watching the flames dance.
”Rex, you got a shot against the World Champion. How much clout, how big of a boost would that be for your career? If you came into Salem and somehow managed to beat me, the Outcast World Heavyweight Champion; it would send Shockwave throughout the company. Hell, it would probably earn you a shot at me again, with the belt on the line, and if not it would definitely put you know that conversation.”
Mary giggles. ”Like that is going to happen!”[/i][/color] she says, looking up at him, waiting for his smile or laugh of approval. He gives her a wink and her smile is so large it almost looks comical.
”Some might be sayin, ‘BRADDOCK, how do you know you will still be the Champ at Halloween Havoc?’” His brother Tyler enters the shot, briefly, to hand him the Outcast Heavyweight Championship belt. BRADDOCK holds it in his hands, staring at it, a ghost of a smile on his lips. When he looks back up at the camera, he does so with a visible struggle, almost like Bilbo and his Ring.
”I have no doubt in my mind that I will walk our of Texas Chainsaw Massacre with the belt still on my shoulder. Just like I have no doubt that Rexie is another Maddox failure… just like the rest of his family. Now, I don’t know what your history is or what kind of worker you are but, know this, you are steppin into MY World. When the bell sounds, when the match starts, who says it will be in the ring. I may assault you on your way into the building, hit you with a Louisville Slugger. Shank ya with a screwdriver. Pay Mary here to take care of my light work for me….” he says as they both laugh.
”All jokes aside, if I were you, I’d be pissed at my family members for allowing me to get involved in this match. That have done you no favors. You’re in over your head and they can’t save you. Are you thinkin, maybe, have them get involved during our match? Falsely predicting the numbers game would give you an edge.
Or, maybe, you are just that confident in your abilities and believe you can go toe-to-toe with me, the World Champion… I dunno but, what I do know is that you are entering my World, my playground. Make no mistake; this match is no disqualification and falls count anywhere. We ain’t gonna be havin a wrestlin match….this is gonna be a fight and it’s a fight you can’t win.” he says while Mary Jane has stood up and cozied up to the World Champion.
As the camera fades out, BRADDOCK takes the joint from Mary and takes a hit from it. He is on top of the World. He is the Outcast World Heavyweight Champion as well as the E.H.W.F. Showtime Champion. His tattoo business is picking up and he has several beautiful women interested in him. He knows it may be the fact he is the World Champion and doesn’t care. He’s not looking for a wife, after all.
Halloween Havoc is in just a matter of days. Rex Maddox has no idea what he has been thrust into. As the Champ said; the stipulations of their match is in his wheelhouse. All Rex can hope for is that BRADDOCK can’t get his hands on his preferred weapons of choice; lighttubes, gusset plates, and trash bags…
#PrayforRex
BRADDOCK and his brother sit with their backs to each other to enable easier communication. BRADDOCK’s head pounds occasionally when his hangover decides to flare up and inflict more misery. It doesn’t effect his tattooing abilities, however, as he has learned to live with hangovers. It’s part of the price you pay when you drink like a fish most days. He finishes up the shading on the face of a “Tarman" tattoo, a character from “Return of the Living Dead,” before sitting back to really check it out. Both he and the customer, the twenty-something boyfriend of the chick hanging out in the waiting area.
Braddock grins, he knows he knocked this piece out of the park, and nods to himself. The customer looks down at his calf and grins like a fool while digging his phone out of his pocket. He snaps a few pics of the tattoo before tossing a couple of twenties at BRADDOCK as a tip.
He is so wrapped up in posting a pic of the tattoo and showing it off to his girlfriend, that he forgets to thank the artist. BRADDOCK gives him the finger when he looks back over his shoulder and his excited smile quickly melts into a confused scowl, but he and his lady continue walking. BRADDOCK cleans up his station and fist bumps his brother before doing the same with Brandi. He then dips out and heads back to his trailer where Mary Jane, O.C.W. enhancement talent, waits on his couch with his bong in hand.
The bong is made of crystal and is in the shape of a human skull. The stalk exits the top of the skull and is about a foot and a half long while the stem and bowl exit via the skulls “mouth,” and made to look like a pipe. She flashes him a broad grin and her eyes are at half mast. Apparently, she is only wearing a Dirty Heads tour t-shirt and a pair of knee high white tube socks. He enters his kitchen and grabs a Pabst tallboy from the fridge before making his way to the seat next to her on his couch.
On the television Brad Pitt commands his tank crew in the movie “Fury.” She passes him the bong and lighter and he takes a long rip from it before exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. On the screen, Pitt just forced a young addition to his tank crew to execute a wounded enemy. BRADDOCK’s mouth curls with the faintest whisper of a grin on his face.
”Are you worried about your match at Halloween Havoc? I mean, I know you’re probably not but, uhm, are you?” she asks. When he looks over at her, she smiles bashfully and looks away.
”I ain’t worried about shit. I’ve never even heard of this fuckin idiot I’m facin. Rex? Is he a fuckin dog?”
Mary bursts out in laughter; to her stoned ass that was one of the funniest things she had ever heard. She takes the bong from him and takes another, much smaller than his, hit.
”Are you worried about your match?” he asks, half interested and getting slowly drawn in to the movie.
”Not worried.. I think I can handle all of them. Bella will be the toughest one out of all of them, I think.” she says with the nod of her head before taking a hit from the bong.
”Uh-huh..” is all he replies. She blows her hit out and places the bong on the coffee table. She stands up and makes her way around the table and stands in front of the television. BRADDOCK scowls until she pulls her t-shirts off and tosses it on the floor.
”Let’s go to your room…” she says as she takes his hand. She leads him down the hall and as they walk, he starts to undress as well. With a giggle she leads him into the bedroom…
A handheld camera opens on BRADDOCK sitting on the table part of a picnic table, his black Jordan’s on the bench seat, in the dead, yellow grass of his backyard. Along with his Jordan's, BRADDOCK has on a black Raiders jersey with the number ninety-eight (Maxx Crosby's jersey) and a pair of black jeans cut off just below the knee. He is smoking a cigar, not a blunt, but a cigar and next to his, alongside an open Pabst tallboy, is a bottle of Jameson and a full shot flash next to it. He exhales a cloud of smoke before downing the shot.
”At Outcast Championship Wrestling’s ‘Halloween Havoc,” I face a man of mystery. There I’d literally ZERO information about Rex Maddox anywhere on the internet. I can only assume he is related to the other Maddox's that are signed by our company. But I don’t know…” he says with a shrug before pouring another shot. He exhales a much smaller plume of smoke before taking the shot he just poured and chases it with a mouthful of Pabst.
”I am the World Champion now, and will continue to be, once this pay-per-view rolls around. Donnie Harris is a tough son of a bitch, but, he isn’t tough enough to take my belt from me. At Texas Chainsaw Massacre, ol Donnie-boy is in for a rough night and a dirt nap! Courtesy of yours truly…”
BRADDOCK slips of the table and heads to his right, the cameras left, and it keeps pace with him. He only walks a half a dozen steps or so when he stops at a small campfire, in a fire pit, and is standing behind Outcast Wrestling's Mary Jane. She takes a hit from a joint before offering it to her host who pitches the stub of his cigar into the fire before taking the joint. He takes a log pull from it before giving back to Mary, who is lost in thought while watching the flames dance.
”Rex, you got a shot against the World Champion. How much clout, how big of a boost would that be for your career? If you came into Salem and somehow managed to beat me, the Outcast World Heavyweight Champion; it would send Shockwave throughout the company. Hell, it would probably earn you a shot at me again, with the belt on the line, and if not it would definitely put you know that conversation.”
Mary giggles. ”Like that is going to happen!”[/i][/color] she says, looking up at him, waiting for his smile or laugh of approval. He gives her a wink and her smile is so large it almost looks comical.
”Some might be sayin, ‘BRADDOCK, how do you know you will still be the Champ at Halloween Havoc?’” His brother Tyler enters the shot, briefly, to hand him the Outcast Heavyweight Championship belt. BRADDOCK holds it in his hands, staring at it, a ghost of a smile on his lips. When he looks back up at the camera, he does so with a visible struggle, almost like Bilbo and his Ring.
”I have no doubt in my mind that I will walk our of Texas Chainsaw Massacre with the belt still on my shoulder. Just like I have no doubt that Rexie is another Maddox failure… just like the rest of his family. Now, I don’t know what your history is or what kind of worker you are but, know this, you are steppin into MY World. When the bell sounds, when the match starts, who says it will be in the ring. I may assault you on your way into the building, hit you with a Louisville Slugger. Shank ya with a screwdriver. Pay Mary here to take care of my light work for me….” he says as they both laugh.
”All jokes aside, if I were you, I’d be pissed at my family members for allowing me to get involved in this match. That have done you no favors. You’re in over your head and they can’t save you. Are you thinkin, maybe, have them get involved during our match? Falsely predicting the numbers game would give you an edge.
Or, maybe, you are just that confident in your abilities and believe you can go toe-to-toe with me, the World Champion… I dunno but, what I do know is that you are entering my World, my playground. Make no mistake; this match is no disqualification and falls count anywhere. We ain’t gonna be havin a wrestlin match….this is gonna be a fight and it’s a fight you can’t win.” he says while Mary Jane has stood up and cozied up to the World Champion.
As the camera fades out, BRADDOCK takes the joint from Mary and takes a hit from it. He is on top of the World. He is the Outcast World Heavyweight Champion as well as the E.H.W.F. Showtime Champion. His tattoo business is picking up and he has several beautiful women interested in him. He knows it may be the fact he is the World Champion and doesn’t care. He’s not looking for a wife, after all.
Halloween Havoc is in just a matter of days. Rex Maddox has no idea what he has been thrust into. As the Champ said; the stipulations of their match is in his wheelhouse. All Rex can hope for is that BRADDOCK can’t get his hands on his preferred weapons of choice; lighttubes, gusset plates, and trash bags…
#PrayforRex