Post by Shawn Savage on Sept 24, 2024 10:57:30 GMT -5
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Standing outside waiting for our hero to arrive, it was an ordinary New York kind of night where New Yorkers did things like yell at homeless people whilst eating their bagels and sipping on their lattes. During the week, the true parties happened, not the ones frequented by the people that worked all week just to spend 3 hours getting a cluster migraine at that hip and happening nightclub that’ll close down in four months when the insta and TikTok hype switches focuses, but the tried and true family friendly type of nightly entertainment that America was built upon.
The strip club, where all walks of life congregated from NBA players to NFL players to everyone else who had a suspicious amount of paper money on them in the year of 2024 where most sane people were simply using NFC payment through their phone rather than dropping bills on anything.
Tonight’s club of choice, the exotically named “The Candy Shack” somewhere in the part of New York City where only people that went to this club actually wanted to walk around this part of the city.
“Alright HYPE, this is it, man. Tonight is where I am going to start to seal the deal for real, after tonight I will have everything I need to become irresistible, both in terms of raw unbridled rizz, but also pure sigma strength that I will carve that path of Trailer Park destruction straight to the title… And straight into Britlyn’s granny panties.” Our hero spoke with raw determination, wearing stunner shades in the darkness knowing how to dress the part to go to such a high upstanding kind of establishment.
In tow, his always loyal crew of HYPE Moses, his blindly loyal hypeman who simply knew always how to say all the wrong things in all the right ways. And their cameraman, making sure this moment in history was caught on tape to show all of Shawn Savage’s future offspring where the magic truly got found…
The Candy Shack was truly a magical place…
But at the door they already found their first sign of resistance, the inevitable inertia that tried to pull back the hard-working trailer messiah’s from achieving their lofty unattainable goals.
“Back off, Macklemore, club’s closed for a private get-together tonight.” the oversized example of humanity spoke in a deep booming voice, their chest covered by a black t-shirt that was three sizes too small.
But Shawn was on another level now, he was powered by love… or lust… Or just the chance of impressing the boss-lady in such a way that all the sex pesty bullshit was somehow looked past and ignored for the sake of a dubiously wholesome romantic story that would set Tumblr alight.
“Easy there, Magilla Gorilla. You’re talking to the biggest deal to your club since James Harden played in Brooklyn.” Moses tried to jump in between, puffed up chest at someone who could easily crush them into a ball and play basketball with them like it was Space Jam.
But before Moses could see his life ended, Shawn seemed confident, calm, and collected, putting his hand on HYPE’s shoulder and stepping forward with a card in hand.
“Don’t worry my man. The name’s Shawn Savage, I got a meeting with the organiser of this little shindig, if you dig, my dog.” he’d spoke, putting the card in their hands and letting the bouncer look it over.
The bouncer quirked an eyebrow, glancing back and forth and biting the inside of his cheek for a few seconds as the reality set in that he had to let the man, the myth, the messiah into the forbidden world of The Candy Shack, potentially even to feast his eyes onto the assortment of sweets that the owner had curated from all the students that had to make it through med school by giving live anatomy displays.
“Yeah, okay, you two can come in. But the minor stays outside. he spoke.
Shawn and Moses seemed confused at the request, looking back and forth between them before glancing back at the cameraman who seemed to be shooting in a permanent low angle.
“Miners? We’re not from West Virginia, bro.” HYPE answered the walking slab of beef.
The bouncer shook his head. “No, the ‘MINOR’, the kid, he’s not getting in!” his volume went up with his increasing frustration.
Hype and Shawn looked around again before looking back at the cameraman apologetically.
“Ah yeah, my bad. That kid’s got such a mouth on him, I tend to forget he’s eleven years old.” Shawn said, as Moses took the camera for himself.
“Sorry Shawn-Lite. How about you wait for us behind the club, I bet there’s nice ladies there having a quick smoke, they’ll look after you.” Moses suggested as the kid nodded sagely and skipped around the back.
With the roadblock cleared, Shawn and Moses make their way inside.
“Pretty sure sending that kid to the back will run the owner out of business, HYPE.” Shawn smiled.
Making their way into the club proper, they were met by the candystore of sights which Moses made sure to catch on home video, but Shawn seemed laser focused, ignoring earthly distractions knowing he had a reason for being here other than to throw away his life savings on cold emotionless visual pleasure.
“There’s something about this club I can’t put my finger on, Shawn…” HYPE commented as the camera seemed to only detect male strippers doing their best work. “I get it… The ladies are probably all on break!” he fooled himself as he courteously refused a private dance.
Because they had to make their way to the private part of the club, a booth that was flanked by suit clad bodyguards who wear sunglasses so blacked out that they probably couldn’t even see people coming if all the lights in the club were on.
Someone noticed him, and waved him on, but quickly and strictly gestured for them to take a seat opposite to the person they came to see.
Pen in hand, hair on fleek, the man Shawn came to see was a man that only fools crossed. And hitting a fat cloud, they blew it into the air.
“Mr. Savage, you pull up, on the day of my homeboy’s kickback…” they spoke as they pulled another tumescent cloud of grape licorice delight juice out of their pen and blew the fog straight at HYPE’s face. “And you lowkey ask me for a solid?” they’d answer as they refused to remove their earpods.
“Woah, you’re… The drip-or-drown-don!” HYPE exclaimed as they realized the powerful figure in front of them.
“Cuck Moses, don’t fill the space with your beta sus like baby gronk. Only taper fade rizzler speaks to the sigma.”
But Shawn punched him to shut him up real quick.
“Thank you for meeting us, don. Your sigma wisdom has saved many foolish people from pain, and I admit that I came here to ask you for a favor… Or better said, a return on a favor I gave you when I loaned you a fiver when I won my scratch card millions.” Shawn spoke, uncharacteristically respectful to another human being that wasn’t in his direct inner circle.
Don Costcoleone took another fat vape, gesturing with his hand. “Ohio, Rizzler… Ohio.” he’d say, in his mastery of pure alpha gibberish.
Shawn was to speak, but almost like the Don knew he gestured again as two male strippers wearing only microthongs walked in, putting a chest on the table.
Even Shawn seemed taken aback by the apparent foresight of the Don.
“Is that… What I think it is, Don?!”
“Savage no gooner, bet. Locked in sigma needs ice spice rizz, skibidi prime for lil blud.” they continued in infinite Alpha wisdom.
With trembling hands, Shawn moved closer to the chest almost scared to understand what was in it. But he was stopped for just a second as one of the guards put their hands on the chest, forcing a face-to-face with the don.
“Forgor fanum tax, Rizzler.” they asked, almost demanded.
“No more favors, this is all I need to not just beat Brooke Hernandez, but also win the Revival Title. The power in this chest is the only way that I can reach the next level, power up in such a way that I can become champion, and impress the boss enough to give me a date.” Shawn spoke, almost seeming to try and talk courage into himself and the people around him.
Glancing back at Moses, who was filming everything in silent awe.
“You got this, Shawn-o. Time for you to hit this shit into motherfucking overdrive, dawg.” HYPE spoke, not knowing the power that was about to be in Shawn Savage’s hands.
Shawn nodded once, twice, three times as they understood that they had to take this step, this drastic measure to let go of the old him and become the next evolution of the Trailer Park Messiah… A Trailer Park God, even, or a Super Trailer Park Messiah III after undergoing strict special training.
“You’re right, it’s time…” Shawn said with not seen before resolve.
Opening the chest, the room lit up with a sickly green and white hue from what was inside. Bottles surrounded by ice, unmarked yet ominous in its unhealthily vibrant colours, Shawn took one of them out and glanced at it.
“It’s
HYPE took one look at the bottle and dropped his camera in shock, with only his last words caught on tape…
“YOU’RE FUCKING CRAZY TO DRINK… PRIME CLAW?!”
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Things started off as fun and games. A trailer park messiah looking to change up his dull life of being both a haphazard idiot and a scratch-lottery millionaire by becoming a pro wrestler. He found out in the months since debuting that a trailer park messiah cannot simply become a wrestler overnight, but rather than follow the path of self-improvement, they followed a path of earthly-delight.
Failure after failure, our hero knows no limits to his own stupidity, to his own seemingly unending amounts of self-confidence at keeping going despite being woefully overmatched by everyone he faces, man, woman, child, bossladies and dumpsters… There is nothing that Shawn can overcome, yet he endures for the vain quest of impressing an unimpressible woman who simply would want him gone.
And it has brought him to crossing a terrible threshold, in his foolish quest there seems to be no limits to his foolishness, looking to potentially poison himself for short term power, short term gain… Short term rizzing with a level of potency that the wrestling world has never seen, and might never see again.
The first step, Brooke Hernandez. A woman more capable than he will ever be, with a dictator ahead of him he shall be the Freedom Fighter of (unwanted) love and power. Just victory there alone will not be enough, as Shawn would have to fight yet again for the Revival Title, an accomplishment where he would not only have to win twice in a row, but actually win a match.
The impossible odds are stacked against him, yet undeterred and laser focused on his goals they continue on. And his current ploy might be one that might not even shorten his life, but kill him in the end…
[END]