Post by Deleted on Jun 25, 2023 15:42:38 GMT -5
Friday, June 24th, 2023
South Beach, Miami
Lennox Miami Beach Resort.
Hanari sat at the outdoor tiki bar, his silk shirt opened from the third button up. A gold chain hung down from his neck, and his rolex-laden wrist flicked out a cigar ash. Hanari was relaxing, back in the states, and back to being gainfully employed. Even relaxing, he still dressed impeccably. His silk shirt was Dolce & Gabbana, as were his dress pants, with a pair of brown Bruno Magli shoes. The cost of his jewelry was more than most people have in their bank accounts. He liked it that was.
The busty bartender had been flirting with him all night–or so he thought–and smiled again as she poured another shot of casamigos out of the bottle he had ordered. There was a nice breeze this evening, a rare gift for Miami in June.
Hanari was an honest man, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t glancing at her chest every so often. He wondered how much those things cost her. Not that it was his business, but money always interested him. When you don’t have it growing up, it makes you even more interested in it.
Hanari had been sitting at the tiki bar for some time now, as going to the clubs never interested him. South Beach had some of the best nightlife in America, but to him, a bottle of tequila, a good cigar, and a conversation with an attractive woman was all he needed to have a “good” night. Hanari only needed a bottle and a cigar to reflect. One in his position might be celebrating. One in his position might be excited, overwhelmed, anxious. Hanari was none of these. He was focused. This was, in all likelihood, his last chance. Things didn’t work out in XWF, the original OCW had been bought out, and he hadn’t received a call back from any of the other wrestling promotions. Hanari was not exactly “in the loop”. Living outside the states, in what many would consider a third world country, Hanari had found himself forgotten by many promotion owners when it came to recruitment. When Chris Chaos retired, and Chaotic Inc. disbanded, he fully believed that his career was over.
Taking another puff off his Cubano, he blew the smoke into the night sky.
“Mami” he said, snapping his fingers. The girl smiled, turning around to face him.
“Yes, Mr. Carnes?”
“How long have you been working here?”
“Uhh….goin on six years now. I am not usually out here, I work inside more but they needed some coverage out here this weekend. Why do you ask?”
Hanari grinned. Fish on.
Reel.
“Have you ever dreamed bigger, mami? Have you ever wanted to start something new, and be part of building something?”
The girl was a bit perplexed. In her years behind the bar she had her fair share of weird customer questions, but a vast majority of them were inquiring about what kind of underwear she had on and what color, if any at all. This one was…………deeper?
“I…uh…”
“You never thought you would ever be anything but a bartender?”
Her eyes went wide. “I mean, well….yeah…..”
“Are you from Miami, sweetness?”
“I am not. I actually grew up in Georgia. I moved here because…well…it’s South Beach.”
“So you had bigger goals and aspirations then? You came to the nightlife capital of the United States to do the same thing you felt like you’d be stuck doing forever? For what, bigger tips? Better conversation? Chance to meet a celebrity?”
“I mean, its Miami. The only better place to be a bartender I would imagine is Las Vegas, but I’ve never been. Can’t imagine living way out there.”
Hanari swirled the little bit of tequila left in his glass, before setting the cup down. He poured more out of the bottle, and brought it to his lips.
He swallowed with an audible “ahhh.”
“Have you ever wondered what else there is in life? What heights you can reach, what you can accomplish outside the fences you’ve put up for yourself?”
“I really haven’t, I’ve been content doing this. The money pays the bills.”
“Do you live in Miami?”
The girls face dropped, slightly.
“I don’t. Too expensive. I like in Hileah. It’s okay, I guess.”
Hanari grinned again.
The girl pulled a vape out of her back pocket, and hit it.
“So it doesn’t pay the bills enough to be able to walk to work, does it?”
“I guess not.”
He puffed his cigar, looking at it for a second before he looked back at her.
“You ever tried a cigar, mami?”
“Ew. No. I don’t smoke. Sorry….didn’t mean the ew part, just, like….doesn’t appeal to me.”
“But You vape?”
“I know, I shouldn’t but it helps me get through the night.”
Hanari grins again.
“Have you ever been on a yacht?”
“No. I see them all the time in the bay coming in and out. I usually serve the rich pricks who drive them.”
“Such a negative view of yacht owners!”
He takes another swig.
“What do you drive?”
“What is this, a CIA interrogation?” She smiled.
Hanari takes his keys out of his pocket, siding them over to her. Mercedes, C-Class.
“Take it for a spin.”
The girl was dumbfounded. She had taken customers keys before, but never in this way.
He had a serious look in his eyes. He wasn’t joking.
“I mean, my shift is almost over I……”
“Go. When you get back, I am in the Victory suit. Leave them outside the door.”
“I gotta close up……but, I just…….maybe……” She began to hit buttons on the register, her fingers a bit shaky. She turned around and he was gone.
"They are all the same" Hanari said with a grin as he crossed the pavilion back towards the hotel. "Easy."
“Ay mami.
It has been a whirlwind, hasn’t it? Hanari comes to the states, goes to XWF, they play games. He goes back home. He comes to the states, has one match in OCW, they go under. He goes back home. Now, he is back in the states for another run at OCW, but under new ownership with fresh new ideas and a sexy mamacita in the office. Now, I am part of a supercard at the company’s kick off event being billed as their “Wrestlemania”, and here come the shenanigans! Oyie, chica! No arm bar?! Britlyn wants to recruit the top submission wrestler on the planet, and says that he cannot use his submission move to win a match! What is up with that?!
I’ll tell ya what it is, she is protecting her talent.
Anarchy is her pride and joy, and the last thing she needs is a new recruit on the injured list with a snapped humerus. She knows what I can do in that ring, and she knows how dangerous Hanari Carnes truly is. You’ve done your research, mami, and I appreciate that.
So who is Kyleigh Everhart? Lil miss positivity clearly doesn’t know who I am. Has she watched wrestling during her time off? Has she not seen how many stars I have put on the shelf, how many little puta’s just like her I have made scream, in more ways than one (Hanari winks at the camera). Has she not seen the titles, the bloody matches, the security pulling me off, the ambulance sirens racing to the arena to clean up the mess I left behind? Apparently not. That is okay, I don’t expect her to know. She is just getting back into the business, a virtual nobody with any clout she may have once had all but gone, and an optimistic view on her career going forward.
Those are my favorite victims.
So full of life, so hopeful.
So let me tell you just who it is I am, baby girl. Mi nombre es Hanari Carnes. Soy de Santo Domingo, República Dominicana. I won the XWF Television Title in my second ever match, and went on to the March Madness finals that same year. I took the wrestling world by storm, eventually racking up an X-treme title, and single-handedly took down APEX to win the tag titles. I defended those solo, as well. What have you done? Not trying to sound brash, mami, I am curious. What exactly HAVE you done? And what gives you any hope in this match against the Latin Submission Machine?
And don’t say “Hanari, you can’t use submissions….”. I am not dumb, so do not patronize me. There are many ways to win a wrestling match, and if this is strikes only best believe I will knock you flat on your derriere if I need to. You won’t be nearly as attractive with a broken nose.”
Hanari takes a puff of his cigar before ashing it.
“I have always had a thing for brunettes, chica. Their eyes, their hair, their smell.”
He reaches for some more casamigos, pouring it into his glass. He swirls it a few times before taking a sip.
“Apparently, there is something at stake in this match. Some belt we can win that gives us a chance to cash it in for a title match of our choosing, on either brand. Well, mami, let's just say you are looking at a future campeón. I am actually going to be doing you a favor, so you can go to the trainers room early on in the show and not have to come back out to compete later on. You can get fixed up real nice, and get ready for Anarchy. Get ready to watch Hanari Carnes do what he does best, be the very best in the world.”
The casamigos was about half empty now, and a latin woman with olive skin wearing a red silk robe walked out from what one would only assume is the bedroom. It was the bartender from the tiki bar. She rubs his shoulders, and he closes his eyes for a moment. Letting out a deep breath, he opens them with a smile.
“I live a good life. Cars, houses, boats, jet skis, parties in estates….and I earned all of it for myself by beating up on people like you. People who can’t get out of their own way, who can’t leave well enough alone, who don’t know when to hang up. I am in the best shape of my life, and I feel more dangerous than ever. Maybe if this wrestling thing doesn’t work out, I have a spot for you around the big house. I am on the road a lot now that I am in the business again, I could use a clean place and a warm cooked meal when I arrive home. Maybe once you realize that your career is over, you can accompany ME to the ring, because, let's be honest sweet-tits, that is the closest to fame and success you’re ever going to get.
I don’t just want to win, Niña bonita, I want to hurt you. I want you to realize just how in over your head you truly are.”
South Beach, Miami
Lennox Miami Beach Resort.
Hanari sat at the outdoor tiki bar, his silk shirt opened from the third button up. A gold chain hung down from his neck, and his rolex-laden wrist flicked out a cigar ash. Hanari was relaxing, back in the states, and back to being gainfully employed. Even relaxing, he still dressed impeccably. His silk shirt was Dolce & Gabbana, as were his dress pants, with a pair of brown Bruno Magli shoes. The cost of his jewelry was more than most people have in their bank accounts. He liked it that was.
The busty bartender had been flirting with him all night–or so he thought–and smiled again as she poured another shot of casamigos out of the bottle he had ordered. There was a nice breeze this evening, a rare gift for Miami in June.
Hanari was an honest man, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t glancing at her chest every so often. He wondered how much those things cost her. Not that it was his business, but money always interested him. When you don’t have it growing up, it makes you even more interested in it.
Hanari had been sitting at the tiki bar for some time now, as going to the clubs never interested him. South Beach had some of the best nightlife in America, but to him, a bottle of tequila, a good cigar, and a conversation with an attractive woman was all he needed to have a “good” night. Hanari only needed a bottle and a cigar to reflect. One in his position might be celebrating. One in his position might be excited, overwhelmed, anxious. Hanari was none of these. He was focused. This was, in all likelihood, his last chance. Things didn’t work out in XWF, the original OCW had been bought out, and he hadn’t received a call back from any of the other wrestling promotions. Hanari was not exactly “in the loop”. Living outside the states, in what many would consider a third world country, Hanari had found himself forgotten by many promotion owners when it came to recruitment. When Chris Chaos retired, and Chaotic Inc. disbanded, he fully believed that his career was over.
Taking another puff off his Cubano, he blew the smoke into the night sky.
“Mami” he said, snapping his fingers. The girl smiled, turning around to face him.
“Yes, Mr. Carnes?”
“How long have you been working here?”
“Uhh….goin on six years now. I am not usually out here, I work inside more but they needed some coverage out here this weekend. Why do you ask?”
Hanari grinned. Fish on.
Reel.
“Have you ever dreamed bigger, mami? Have you ever wanted to start something new, and be part of building something?”
The girl was a bit perplexed. In her years behind the bar she had her fair share of weird customer questions, but a vast majority of them were inquiring about what kind of underwear she had on and what color, if any at all. This one was…………deeper?
“I…uh…”
“You never thought you would ever be anything but a bartender?”
Her eyes went wide. “I mean, well….yeah…..”
“Are you from Miami, sweetness?”
“I am not. I actually grew up in Georgia. I moved here because…well…it’s South Beach.”
“So you had bigger goals and aspirations then? You came to the nightlife capital of the United States to do the same thing you felt like you’d be stuck doing forever? For what, bigger tips? Better conversation? Chance to meet a celebrity?”
“I mean, its Miami. The only better place to be a bartender I would imagine is Las Vegas, but I’ve never been. Can’t imagine living way out there.”
Hanari swirled the little bit of tequila left in his glass, before setting the cup down. He poured more out of the bottle, and brought it to his lips.
He swallowed with an audible “ahhh.”
“Have you ever wondered what else there is in life? What heights you can reach, what you can accomplish outside the fences you’ve put up for yourself?”
“I really haven’t, I’ve been content doing this. The money pays the bills.”
“Do you live in Miami?”
The girls face dropped, slightly.
“I don’t. Too expensive. I like in Hileah. It’s okay, I guess.”
Hanari grinned again.
The girl pulled a vape out of her back pocket, and hit it.
“So it doesn’t pay the bills enough to be able to walk to work, does it?”
“I guess not.”
He puffed his cigar, looking at it for a second before he looked back at her.
“You ever tried a cigar, mami?”
“Ew. No. I don’t smoke. Sorry….didn’t mean the ew part, just, like….doesn’t appeal to me.”
“But You vape?”
“I know, I shouldn’t but it helps me get through the night.”
Hanari grins again.
“Have you ever been on a yacht?”
“No. I see them all the time in the bay coming in and out. I usually serve the rich pricks who drive them.”
“Such a negative view of yacht owners!”
He takes another swig.
“What do you drive?”
“What is this, a CIA interrogation?” She smiled.
Hanari takes his keys out of his pocket, siding them over to her. Mercedes, C-Class.
“Take it for a spin.”
The girl was dumbfounded. She had taken customers keys before, but never in this way.
He had a serious look in his eyes. He wasn’t joking.
“I mean, my shift is almost over I……”
“Go. When you get back, I am in the Victory suit. Leave them outside the door.”
“I gotta close up……but, I just…….maybe……” She began to hit buttons on the register, her fingers a bit shaky. She turned around and he was gone.
"They are all the same" Hanari said with a grin as he crossed the pavilion back towards the hotel. "Easy."
“Ay mami.
It has been a whirlwind, hasn’t it? Hanari comes to the states, goes to XWF, they play games. He goes back home. He comes to the states, has one match in OCW, they go under. He goes back home. Now, he is back in the states for another run at OCW, but under new ownership with fresh new ideas and a sexy mamacita in the office. Now, I am part of a supercard at the company’s kick off event being billed as their “Wrestlemania”, and here come the shenanigans! Oyie, chica! No arm bar?! Britlyn wants to recruit the top submission wrestler on the planet, and says that he cannot use his submission move to win a match! What is up with that?!
I’ll tell ya what it is, she is protecting her talent.
Anarchy is her pride and joy, and the last thing she needs is a new recruit on the injured list with a snapped humerus. She knows what I can do in that ring, and she knows how dangerous Hanari Carnes truly is. You’ve done your research, mami, and I appreciate that.
So who is Kyleigh Everhart? Lil miss positivity clearly doesn’t know who I am. Has she watched wrestling during her time off? Has she not seen how many stars I have put on the shelf, how many little puta’s just like her I have made scream, in more ways than one (Hanari winks at the camera). Has she not seen the titles, the bloody matches, the security pulling me off, the ambulance sirens racing to the arena to clean up the mess I left behind? Apparently not. That is okay, I don’t expect her to know. She is just getting back into the business, a virtual nobody with any clout she may have once had all but gone, and an optimistic view on her career going forward.
Those are my favorite victims.
So full of life, so hopeful.
So let me tell you just who it is I am, baby girl. Mi nombre es Hanari Carnes. Soy de Santo Domingo, República Dominicana. I won the XWF Television Title in my second ever match, and went on to the March Madness finals that same year. I took the wrestling world by storm, eventually racking up an X-treme title, and single-handedly took down APEX to win the tag titles. I defended those solo, as well. What have you done? Not trying to sound brash, mami, I am curious. What exactly HAVE you done? And what gives you any hope in this match against the Latin Submission Machine?
And don’t say “Hanari, you can’t use submissions….”. I am not dumb, so do not patronize me. There are many ways to win a wrestling match, and if this is strikes only best believe I will knock you flat on your derriere if I need to. You won’t be nearly as attractive with a broken nose.”
Hanari takes a puff of his cigar before ashing it.
“I have always had a thing for brunettes, chica. Their eyes, their hair, their smell.”
He reaches for some more casamigos, pouring it into his glass. He swirls it a few times before taking a sip.
“Apparently, there is something at stake in this match. Some belt we can win that gives us a chance to cash it in for a title match of our choosing, on either brand. Well, mami, let's just say you are looking at a future campeón. I am actually going to be doing you a favor, so you can go to the trainers room early on in the show and not have to come back out to compete later on. You can get fixed up real nice, and get ready for Anarchy. Get ready to watch Hanari Carnes do what he does best, be the very best in the world.”
The casamigos was about half empty now, and a latin woman with olive skin wearing a red silk robe walked out from what one would only assume is the bedroom. It was the bartender from the tiki bar. She rubs his shoulders, and he closes his eyes for a moment. Letting out a deep breath, he opens them with a smile.
“I live a good life. Cars, houses, boats, jet skis, parties in estates….and I earned all of it for myself by beating up on people like you. People who can’t get out of their own way, who can’t leave well enough alone, who don’t know when to hang up. I am in the best shape of my life, and I feel more dangerous than ever. Maybe if this wrestling thing doesn’t work out, I have a spot for you around the big house. I am on the road a lot now that I am in the business again, I could use a clean place and a warm cooked meal when I arrive home. Maybe once you realize that your career is over, you can accompany ME to the ring, because, let's be honest sweet-tits, that is the closest to fame and success you’re ever going to get.
I don’t just want to win, Niña bonita, I want to hurt you. I want you to realize just how in over your head you truly are.”