Post by Awesome Stick Labor on Mar 25, 2015 19:08:39 GMT
"This is the end,
hold your breath and count to ten.
Feel the earth move and then,
hear my heart burst again..."
hold your breath and count to ten.
Feel the earth move and then,
hear my heart burst again..."
Normally, y'all would hear me say “well, well...lookie what we have here.”
But these ain't exactly “normal” circumstances.
Mohammed Al-Thani, this is the Jack Gaither Collection Agency, and I'm puttin' you on notice. You ass is a month overdue, and it's gonna be mine.
No questions asked, no holds barred.
I'm more than just some gung-ho, smilin', patriotic cowboy from the great state of Texas. I'm a rootin'-tootin', six-shootin' sumbitch who represents the free-thinkers of the world.
You're in my sights now, son...and there ain't gonna be no escape for you.
And you can bet your dick on that.
*******************
But these ain't exactly “normal” circumstances.
Mohammed Al-Thani, this is the Jack Gaither Collection Agency, and I'm puttin' you on notice. You ass is a month overdue, and it's gonna be mine.
No questions asked, no holds barred.
I'm more than just some gung-ho, smilin', patriotic cowboy from the great state of Texas. I'm a rootin'-tootin', six-shootin' sumbitch who represents the free-thinkers of the world.
You're in my sights now, son...and there ain't gonna be no escape for you.
And you can bet your dick on that.
*******************
March 21, 2015 – 4:25 PM
DALLAS-FT. WORTH NATIONAL CEMETERY
[We find ourselves back inside the lush gardens that comprise the only U.S. national cemetery in the Dallas-Ft. Worth area as Jack Gaither, sporting his all-black suit and matching tie, walks the grounds with Admiral Richard "Boomer" Highway, a steadfast, gung-ho Naval officer from Tulsa, Oklahoma wearing his white uniform and ribbons. When we had last seen Jack, he was gazing down upon a grave marker belonging to his father Kirk.]
ADMIRAL DICK HIGHWAY: I flew with your old man—Gulf War, December 1990. God, he was one heroic son-of-a-bitch out there—he was truly a natural, one-of-a-kind human being.
[The Texan looks up at the cloud-covered skies above him as he hears the sound of a vintage World War II plane flying overhead.]
JACK GAITHER: So he did do it right.
ADMIRAL: Oh yeah...he did it right. I've seen your work, and you truly remind me of your dad—for better or worse.
[The well-decorated admiral pats Jack on the shoulder as they continue their slow trek towards the cemetery's main gate.]
ADMIRAL: What I'm about to tell you is classified—it could end my career. We were assigned to patrol the airspace over the southern tip of Iraq, and it was one of the ugliest air battles I had ever seen—bogies buzzin' like fireflies in the sky, flak everywhere, surface-to-air missiles whizzin' by your head at warp speed.
[The admiral pauses his steps for a moment.]
ADMIRAL: Your father's F-16 was hit by gunfire, and despite the slight wounds he could've made it back to base. But he stayed in the fight—saved four of our planes before a SAM got him without warning.
[Jack turns his head towards Highway, perking his eyebrows upward.]
JACK: How come I didn't know 'bout this?
ADMIRAL: It's not something that the State Department tells dependents whenever a battle occurs on the wrong side of a map--especially when said battle was crucial to the entire campaign.
[Jack slowly nods his head, understanding why the details were kept from him.]
JACK: So you were there.
ADMIRAL: Yeah, bud...I was there. Your daddy loved flyin'--it was his calling, his passion in life. He flew by gut instincts alone, and that's something that, in my opinion, the Navy's missin' today.
JACK: I bet.
[The officer notices Jack's 24-karat gold IWF "olive branch" lapel pin on the right side of his suit jacket.]
ADMIRAL: What's the first thing that comes to mind when you're doin' your job?
[Jack looks down upon his pin for a moment before turning his attention back to the Oklahoman.]
JACK: “Skyfall.”
****************
Mohammed, lemme give ya a good lesson on current events—a favorite study of mine when I'm not in a ring. It sickens the fuck outta me when I put the news on my TV screen and watch as the reports come in of people either dyin' or bein' held as prisoners in their own homes.
And why's that?
It's simply 'cuz there's people in other parts of the world that wanna live their lives in peace. Out in the real world—a world I've toured as a wrassler for the past seven years—there are folks who simply don't care about anyone else except for themselves. Right now there's a certain militaristic group wreakin' havoc in the Middle East as I speak, takin' over territory while oppressin' the people of that region with their extremist worldview and their hatred for anything resembling the concepts of “peace,” “love,” and “freedom.” They've spilled the blood of innocent lives and ravaged families for no rhyme or reason whatsoever save for spreadin' chaos and imposin' their brand of law and order on society. They've flaunted their money in front of the faces of those who're only able to survive on minimum wage.
Yet those murderous bastards brought the war on terror to themselves—much like you in the world of Imperial.
Take a look at yourself in the mirror, son, and think about everything you've done from a few weeks ago 'til the present day. The reality of it all is much clearer than you'll ever realize.
You'll know your fate soon enough.
I'm more than “just” a wrassler who works for peanuts while aimin' to represent the grand ol' United States. Nah, I'm far from that. I represent the folks of the world who ain't afraid to stand up for their OWN fundamental rights and principles against those who try to take 'em away.
And if ya take the time to listen to the fans around the globe, you'll find one universal truth.
Nobody wants to listen to you run your mouth—not even your own countrymen and women. After all Al-Thani, you are the embodiment of everything that is wrong with society today.
That's goddamn right, son.
**********************
Mohammed, lemme give ya a good lesson on current events—a favorite study of mine when I'm not in a ring. It sickens the fuck outta me when I put the news on my TV screen and watch as the reports come in of people either dyin' or bein' held as prisoners in their own homes.
And why's that?
It's simply 'cuz there's people in other parts of the world that wanna live their lives in peace. Out in the real world—a world I've toured as a wrassler for the past seven years—there are folks who simply don't care about anyone else except for themselves. Right now there's a certain militaristic group wreakin' havoc in the Middle East as I speak, takin' over territory while oppressin' the people of that region with their extremist worldview and their hatred for anything resembling the concepts of “peace,” “love,” and “freedom.” They've spilled the blood of innocent lives and ravaged families for no rhyme or reason whatsoever save for spreadin' chaos and imposin' their brand of law and order on society. They've flaunted their money in front of the faces of those who're only able to survive on minimum wage.
Yet those murderous bastards brought the war on terror to themselves—much like you in the world of Imperial.
Take a look at yourself in the mirror, son, and think about everything you've done from a few weeks ago 'til the present day. The reality of it all is much clearer than you'll ever realize.
You'll know your fate soon enough.
I'm more than “just” a wrassler who works for peanuts while aimin' to represent the grand ol' United States. Nah, I'm far from that. I represent the folks of the world who ain't afraid to stand up for their OWN fundamental rights and principles against those who try to take 'em away.
And if ya take the time to listen to the fans around the globe, you'll find one universal truth.
Nobody wants to listen to you run your mouth—not even your own countrymen and women. After all Al-Thani, you are the embodiment of everything that is wrong with society today.
That's goddamn right, son.
**********************
[Moments later, the admiral chuckles in response.]
ADMIRAL: Interesting...that was your father's call sign.
JACK: Why's that?
ADMIRAL: When he flew, he felt that the G's he pulled, in concert with the bogies and high winds at 40,000 feet, made it look as if the sky was comin' down on top of him. The conditions never gave him ample time to think about his next move.
[Jack continues his slow walk towards the front gate; the Admiral follows suit, matching Jack step for step.]
JACK: I normally don't like talkin' shop while I'm on the road, but...to me, that's how I feel about the wrasslin' gig. The noise and the size of the folks I work against makes me wonder if the skies above would just fall on me and kill me. When you're in that ring, ya don't have time to think. If ya think...you're dead.
[Highway nods, ekeing out a sly grin on his face.]
ADMIRAL: That's a helluva gamble right there.
JACK: I've got nothin' to lose—I'm playin' with house money now.
ADMIRAL: (laughs) Spoken just like your pop.
JACK: Damn skippy.
[The two gentlemen approach the cemetery's main gate; Jack turns around and faces the older man, standing almost at attention.]
ADMIRAL: Are you plannin' anything when you're done with wrestling?
JACK: Hrmm...I'm thinkin' about makin' a run for politics as a moderate Republican.
[Highway shakes his head negatively.]
ADMIRAL: Lemme tell you something: don't. You don't look like the sort of guy who enjoys sittin' behind a desk for hours on end. Besides that...you could make just as much of a difference if you stay exactly where you are.
JACK: I'll take that under advisement, sir.
[Jack turns around and prepares to make his exit, but the admiral pulls out a small package.]
ADMIRAL: Oh, I got something for you.
[The Texan turns back around and accepts the package; he gives the Navy veteran a respectful salute--to which the Admiral returns the favor.]
ADMIRAL: Whatever you do...don't open it 'til you feel the time is right.
JACK: Thank you, sir.
[Jack turns back around and makes his way out of the cemetery and toward a waiting taxicab, leaving the Admiral to gently nod his head in reverence for not only his former squad mate Kirk, but for Jack as well.]
****************
I owe Eddie Black a case of Pepsi after he whupped your ass last week for thinkin' of us freedom lovers as racist pigs. That can only mean one thing: the PEOPLE of the civilized world have spoken, and you ain't gonna be able to have your l'il casket match like ya wanted. Meanwhile, it must've really burned you up inside when I stomped Mike Madness's guts out with my foot. So I—and I alone—got to pick a stipulation for the thing you love to call a “war.” I figured, shit, since ya like to sing “Allah Akbar” so damn much, I figured this l'il nugget would be right up your alley.
Except that you ain't gonna praisin' Allah on a microphone. Instead, you'll be sayin' the two most hated words in the wrasslin' gig: “I Quit.”
How do ya like them apples, huh?
You wanna talk about endin' my career just 'cuz I enjoy livin' an honest life? You wanna end the hopes and dreams of millions of fans around the globe—including YOUR OWN PEOPLE—by spreadin' your message of hatred towards peace, justice, and freedom? It ain't happenin' bud—not while I'm around. You can jump me from behind all ya want to, but I'm still gonna keep on tickin'. You can hurt me in so many pornographic ways, but ya won't put me down for keeps. You can do whatever's necessary to end my career, but I'm STILL gonna be whuppin' asses in IWF while you fade into nothingness.
You started this war when ya brought out your l'il coffin and jumped me from behind. You prolonged it when ya left me hangin' during a tag match a while back. But as the old cliché goes, that's in the past.
Let's talk about the present day, when this war's gonna end.
You, however, ain't gonna finish it on top. When the day comes 'round, I'm-a-gonna make ya squeal like a prison bitch that's bein' gang-raped by the Shawshank Sisters. I will break your ass down, piece by piece, limb from limb. I will end you and send you packin' your bags for a one-way ride back to the oil fields where ya belong. Come High Stakes you're gonna find out firsthand the consequences for fuckin' around with the free world. On Sunday, bud...I WILL put my steel-toed boot so far up your ass you'll start shittin' Tiffany cufflinks outta your fuckin' throat.
And I'm-a-gonna make you cry “uncle” like a l'il bitty baby.
I'm gonna have loads of fun when I'm done with you, and the best part of it all is that your downfall ain't gonna be just for the sake of 'Murrica. It'll be for the sake of the entire planet.
After all, you brought this l'il war upon yourself. Now you're gonna sleep with it 'til ya die.
That's how I see it.
I owe Eddie Black a case of Pepsi after he whupped your ass last week for thinkin' of us freedom lovers as racist pigs. That can only mean one thing: the PEOPLE of the civilized world have spoken, and you ain't gonna be able to have your l'il casket match like ya wanted. Meanwhile, it must've really burned you up inside when I stomped Mike Madness's guts out with my foot. So I—and I alone—got to pick a stipulation for the thing you love to call a “war.” I figured, shit, since ya like to sing “Allah Akbar” so damn much, I figured this l'il nugget would be right up your alley.
Except that you ain't gonna praisin' Allah on a microphone. Instead, you'll be sayin' the two most hated words in the wrasslin' gig: “I Quit.”
How do ya like them apples, huh?
You wanna talk about endin' my career just 'cuz I enjoy livin' an honest life? You wanna end the hopes and dreams of millions of fans around the globe—including YOUR OWN PEOPLE—by spreadin' your message of hatred towards peace, justice, and freedom? It ain't happenin' bud—not while I'm around. You can jump me from behind all ya want to, but I'm still gonna keep on tickin'. You can hurt me in so many pornographic ways, but ya won't put me down for keeps. You can do whatever's necessary to end my career, but I'm STILL gonna be whuppin' asses in IWF while you fade into nothingness.
You started this war when ya brought out your l'il coffin and jumped me from behind. You prolonged it when ya left me hangin' during a tag match a while back. But as the old cliché goes, that's in the past.
Let's talk about the present day, when this war's gonna end.
You, however, ain't gonna finish it on top. When the day comes 'round, I'm-a-gonna make ya squeal like a prison bitch that's bein' gang-raped by the Shawshank Sisters. I will break your ass down, piece by piece, limb from limb. I will end you and send you packin' your bags for a one-way ride back to the oil fields where ya belong. Come High Stakes you're gonna find out firsthand the consequences for fuckin' around with the free world. On Sunday, bud...I WILL put my steel-toed boot so far up your ass you'll start shittin' Tiffany cufflinks outta your fuckin' throat.
And I'm-a-gonna make you cry “uncle” like a l'il bitty baby.
I'm gonna have loads of fun when I'm done with you, and the best part of it all is that your downfall ain't gonna be just for the sake of 'Murrica. It'll be for the sake of the entire planet.
After all, you brought this l'il war upon yourself. Now you're gonna sleep with it 'til ya die.
That's how I see it.
Well howdy there pardner.