Post by Deleted on Sept 25, 2016 16:14:01 GMT
Prelude
"THANK YOUR LUCKY STAR DATE"
"THANK YOUR LUCKY STAR DATE"
We find Johnny Gillmen, on a pleasant Saturday morning, enjoying a relaxing ride on the Yosemite Sam's Gold River Adventure, a classic dark water ride at Six Flags Over Texas. In the boat, which features three rows with four to a seat, the Islander alum sits middle-middle in the second row, perking his brows up upon looking forward at the man in front of him who sports a purple hat with matching coat that seemed out of place--at least in Johnny's mind.
A simple lap bar is draped across the row as the boat is dispatched. Johnny, as he was known to do, gazed with wonder at the trees surrounding him on all sides as the boat started its trek down the river. He loved these types of dark rides, for they gave him the chance to sit down and reflect upon his life as the scenery passed all around him. it was as if he was having the time of his life, and he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
Yet the aura of stillness was only short-lived as the boat began to enter a long tunnel, where--under normal circumstands--the ride would begin its classic Looney Tunes-inspired animatronic sequences. Instead, the tunnel was pitch-black, making the normally mild-mannered Gillmen a bit uneasy enough for him to grab onto the lap bar. It is at this moment in time where the ride began deviating from its normal script.
"I ain't likin' this...," Johnny thought to himself as he held on to the bar.
The boat started traveling a little faster at this stage as psychedelic hues of red, green, and blue began to flash in all directions. Grotesque images begin to flash over, from giant rattlesnakes killing prey to the sights of a large black widow creeping down from the ceiling. Johnny began to tremble at the ghastly scene as the man in the purple coat, a la Gene Wilder, began to sing.
“There's no earthly way of knowing,
which direction they are going...”
“There's no knowing where they are rowing,
or which way the river's flowing...”
“Is it raining, is it snowing;
Is a hurricane a-blowing?”
which direction they are going...”
“There's no knowing where they are rowing,
or which way the river's flowing...”
“Is it raining, is it snowing;
Is a hurricane a-blowing?”
A sharp gasp is heard as the images began to become more and more grotesque. Johnny has a firm grip on the restraint as the boat began to speed up even quicker than before as we now began to see photos of severed human body parts, from legs and arms to even heads as newspaper headlines from several infamous murder/missing persons cases flashed overhead.
Yet the stranger riding in the front row was as calm as daylight, as if he was getting a sadistic thrill out of the entire experience.
“Not a speck of light of showing,
so the danger must be growing....”
“Are the fires of Hell a-glowing?
Is the grisly Reaper mowing?”
so the danger must be growing....”
“Are the fires of Hell a-glowing?
Is the grisly Reaper mowing?”
The Willy Wonka impersonator's voice grows louder and more pronounced as he stands up, glorifying even more violent imagery such as the Grim Reaper slashing a Johnny Gillmen-like soul and the representation of Cowabunga Corner burning to the ground in a ball of orange flame.
Yet Johnny, terrified beyond any capacity for rational thought, wasn't prepared for what he was about to see next as the man in the front row raised his vocal expression even higher, eventually to a practical scream.
“YES! The danger must be growing,
'cause the rowers keep on rowing...”
“AND THEY'RE CERTAINLY NOT SHOWING
ANY SIGNS THAT THEY ARE SLOWING!!!”
'cause the rowers keep on rowing...”
“AND THEY'RE CERTAINLY NOT SHOWING
ANY SIGNS THAT THEY ARE SLOWING!!!”
The stranger turned around, revealing his "face" to Johnny--a disfigured, Satanic representation of his deceased mother Linda. The eyes lit up like balls of blood and fire as the agent of Lucifer cackled with glee.
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAA--COWBOYS LOOOOOOOOOSERS!!!!!!!!!!”
Johnny began to let out a blood-curdling scream, a childlike wail of unbridled terror as the images began to instantly turn pitch black. There was nothing else...save for the sounds of heavy breathing.
And an angelic voice calling from afar, calling to Gillmen himself.
“JJ...? JJ...mommy loves you...
Mommy will always love you...”
Mommy will always love you...”
**
JOHNNY GILLMEN'S LOG – Personal Entry
Date: September 23, 2016
Life's been hard on me these days.
Lemme be honest with myself for once...given what I've been dealing with in terms of my out-of-ring business venture—not to mention this job AND my dad bein' cooped up in a hospital bed for the last three weeks—has put my stress levels at an all-time high. Every mornin', I get up thinkin' about my dad, what I've been given when it comes to this gig...and the way in which I share the joys of livin' with the rest of the world, and it's been extremely difficult for me to stay relaxed, cheer up...ya know, that good stuff.
Maybe “Dr. Handegg,” the dude I talk to on Facebook every day, is right. I'm overthinkin' just a tad...but seriously, where do I begin?
Where in God's name do I start from here?!
I mean, the way I see it, Chris King wants to pretend like he's overlooked when, as Fiona McFly would say, he already won a gorram title. He's already got a trophy in the past yet plays the role of victim, not even understandin' what it's like to be in somebody else's shoes. He's never had to live my life—bein' blind from birth, havin' to start in the wrestlin' biz as a commentator 'cuz NOBODY wanted to formally train me, and so on. And yet he got one over on me last week.
I can live with that, I'll give him credit where it's due...
...but what I WON'T stand for is that all he cares about is his fuckin' championships more than his work. Without a hybrid piece of leather and gold to hold onto, he's nothin', ain't got no pride...he ain't no different than, say, Bertie Verona. He can have all the prizes in the world but WILL NEVER have the one thing I seek more than anything else...
...a clear conscience.
I'm the REAL victim around here—and that might not be a “good guy” thing to say in others' eyes but that's how the fuck I'm feelin' right now. I'm the one who should be appreciated for the simple matter of fact that I'm doin' what I love doin' despite havin' a bad eye and a mind that ain't sunshine and rainbows. I'm the one with more heart than anyone else in this company...yet I've been held back just 'cuz I stick to my principles, without bein' afraid to speak my mind even if nothin' makes sense, and without resortin' to screwin' over people—especially WOMEN—out of their place in this world 'cuz of a selfish desire to maintain a record.
But ya know what? People like him can laugh at me all they want to, but here's the deal. Titles, awards...there's more to makin' an honest livin' than that. All I want is respect...
...all I want is to #Dare2Dream.
**
September 15, 2016 - 7:30 AM
The morning after the Aldermen meeting, inside his old suite at Cowabunga Corner...
...Johnny quickly woke up, breathing heavily as he scanned his surroundings and took a moment to calm down after his nightmare. He stood up, walking around his old St. Louis apartment--which featured nothing else save for a bed and a dusty old desk and chair--and taking in the scene around him. It was a rainy start to a Thursday morning in the Midwest, the beginnings of autumn had started to take shape.
Looking completely disheveled in his Texas Rangers sleeping shorts, the Islander alum peers out his window, watching as the cars pass by the old, dilapidated Cowabunga Corner building. It was the morning after the Islander alum's passionate plea to the Aldermen in regards to saving his business, a speech that took a lot out of him yet left the 29 members speechless.
We hear a knock at the door, causing Gillmen to slowly walk toward the front and see who was wanting to be let in at this hour. JJ opened up his door, revealing his old friend and head chef Aurelly, sporting her blue and green uniform, standing in the threshold.
JOHNNY GILLMEN: Howdy...
Aurelly calmly stepped inside, noticing Gillmen's weakened voice.
AURELLY: Oh good God JJ...are you alright? Heard you left the Aldermen speechless last night.
The bar and grill's head chef stepped towards JJ, wanting to get a closer inspection of her longtime confidant. She gasped in horror upon seeing the Islander alum's bloodshot eyes and abnormal facial expression.
It was as if the speech--and the ensuing nightmare--had taken its toll.
AURELLY: JJ...tell me what happened.
Johnny walked toward his grimy window, looking out at the miserable weather playing before him as he picked up the greasy eyeglasses he wears during the day, slowly placing them on his head.
JOHNNY: In my mind...I was thinkin' that I won. Timbo and I left the chambers before they could say another word. Now I'm left with feelin's of...uncertainty. Did we win...or if we didn't, is there nothin' more?
AURELLY: It's all in God's hands now. All you can do is wait patiently.
Aurelly's motherly tone seemed to calm JJ down just a tad; she reached into her pans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper bearing the head of the Royal Caribbean Cruise Lines.
AURELLY: How would you like to go on a 14-day Caribbean cruise on the world's newest and largest ship, the Harmony of the Seas?
Johnny perked up his right brow, wondering when she had bought the ticket.
AURELLY: I originally bought it for me late last year, but...I figured you love traveling and stuff, so here you go.
Aurelly handed Johnny the cruise ticket, and the latter looked completely incredulous as he read the whole document, which had a departure date of September 26, 2016.
JOHNNY: Aurelly...I gotta be here with ya guys, to see things through.
The lovely woman wasn't having any of it, gently placing her hand on the ex-Islander's back.
AURELLY: Hun...you're not yourself. Your other job—not to mention the whole Cowabunga Corner situation—has made you stressed to the point of potentially having a breakdown. And Tim and I can't bear to see you in such lousy mental shape.
Gillmen sighed, shaking his head as he placed the ticket on his desk.
AURELLY: Trust me...he and I will keep charge of things over here. You need to take care of yourself. What do you say...how does a two-week getaway sound?
JJ's voice became a slight stammer, fearing the unknown that awaited him--wondering whether or not his business partner Tim Bowman was even capable of holding up the fort due to his aggressive behavior.
JOHNNY: I-I-I...I just don't know if I wanna actually do this.
AURELLY: Hey, if you were any other man I wouldn't have bought the ticket in the first place.
Johnny relaxed slightly as Aurelly started to make her exit, but as she stepped through the doorway, she turned her head, looking as he continued peering outside his window.
AURELLY: JJ? Don't forget about the man who suddenly got what he always wanted...
JJ turned his head as well, watching as his friend flashed a smile.
AURELLY: ...he lived happily ever after.
Aurelly left the suite, closing the door behind the Islander alum. Johnny plunked himself down in his swiveling leather chair, looking down at the cruise ticket she had given him. He began to nod his head slowly, realzing that Aurelly truly cared about him--more than anything else in the entire world.
Without saying a word, he turned his attention toward the giant black and silver rolling bag that had his clothes packed into it before mustering a grin of his own.
"Aurelly...love ya hun," thought Johnny as he stood up, taking mental notes of the two-week getaway that awaited him.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
**
Okay T.K., the fun, the games...they're over.
Two weeks ago ya tried to make an example of me, takin' a large sum of dough to throw ME under the bus while cacklin' your ass off tot he bank. Thing is, I might not have the best of memories, but I simply CAN'T forget the l'il stunt ya pulled. Ya left me out to dry when it mattered the most, takin' that stash of dollar signs and walkin' away like like you just won $50,000 playin' Plinko on The Price is Right.
Okie-doke...I can live with that. After all, takin' money just to dick with me is nothin' new in this gig—it's been done numerous times to the point where it becomes cliché.
Now ya wanna try and break ME down 'cuz ya wanna throw the pain of your abusive childhood on me. Only problem is...ya can't. I'm already broken down as is.
You just don't know me too good enough to realize that.
I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, to be laughed at as others passed me by. I've had to deal with livin' with one good eye throughout my ENTIRE LIFE, watchin' with a sense of bitterment as the other people enjoyed playin' baseball or some other sport growin' up. I've had to face the real prospect of wakin' up every single mornin' without bein' able to talk to my mother—the one I truly loved more than, say, wrestlin' itself. I've had to travel from town to town, knowin' damn well that my FAMILY—the rock of my life—ain't complete no more.
Yet instead of inflictin' pain on others 'cuz I have some of my own, I embrace it. It's just who I am.
So WHAT if I made the wrong choices in life—that I turned right when I shoulda turned left. You, of all people, oughta know by now that pain and guilt can't be taken away with the wave of a magic wand or a honk of a red, rubber nose. The things that've hindered me greatly are also the things I've been blessed with...and if I were to lose that, then hot-diggity, I'd lose MYSELF. I don't want my pain taken away from me, I NEED my pain.
And ya wanna try as hard as ya might to leave me rottin' in pieces simply 'cuz YOU weren't loved as a child like I was, that you wanna lash out at the world for tearin' you to shreds and treatin' you like shit...
...but I won't let you. I'm better than that.
Think about it bubba...all this misery and sufferin' you like to dish out is a product of your own doin', a lack of conscience to be precise. After all...the very concept of “love” doesn't compute with you. You know NOTHIN' of what it's like to be hugged, embraced for who you are, to be cherished simply 'cuz you're you and not pretendin' to be someone you're not. I'm gonna show ya what love truly is about, what it truly means to respect yourself and not damn other people 'cuz you were once damned yourself.
Let me be your liberator. It'll be fun, trust me...
...in the end, however, you'll simply realize that dickin' with the wrong guy ain't no laughin' matter.
See ya Sunday dude...and keep on dreamin'.
Two weeks ago ya tried to make an example of me, takin' a large sum of dough to throw ME under the bus while cacklin' your ass off tot he bank. Thing is, I might not have the best of memories, but I simply CAN'T forget the l'il stunt ya pulled. Ya left me out to dry when it mattered the most, takin' that stash of dollar signs and walkin' away like like you just won $50,000 playin' Plinko on The Price is Right.
Okie-doke...I can live with that. After all, takin' money just to dick with me is nothin' new in this gig—it's been done numerous times to the point where it becomes cliché.
Now ya wanna try and break ME down 'cuz ya wanna throw the pain of your abusive childhood on me. Only problem is...ya can't. I'm already broken down as is.
You just don't know me too good enough to realize that.
I know what it feels like to be misunderstood, to be laughed at as others passed me by. I've had to deal with livin' with one good eye throughout my ENTIRE LIFE, watchin' with a sense of bitterment as the other people enjoyed playin' baseball or some other sport growin' up. I've had to face the real prospect of wakin' up every single mornin' without bein' able to talk to my mother—the one I truly loved more than, say, wrestlin' itself. I've had to travel from town to town, knowin' damn well that my FAMILY—the rock of my life—ain't complete no more.
Yet instead of inflictin' pain on others 'cuz I have some of my own, I embrace it. It's just who I am.
So WHAT if I made the wrong choices in life—that I turned right when I shoulda turned left. You, of all people, oughta know by now that pain and guilt can't be taken away with the wave of a magic wand or a honk of a red, rubber nose. The things that've hindered me greatly are also the things I've been blessed with...and if I were to lose that, then hot-diggity, I'd lose MYSELF. I don't want my pain taken away from me, I NEED my pain.
And ya wanna try as hard as ya might to leave me rottin' in pieces simply 'cuz YOU weren't loved as a child like I was, that you wanna lash out at the world for tearin' you to shreds and treatin' you like shit...
...but I won't let you. I'm better than that.
Think about it bubba...all this misery and sufferin' you like to dish out is a product of your own doin', a lack of conscience to be precise. After all...the very concept of “love” doesn't compute with you. You know NOTHIN' of what it's like to be hugged, embraced for who you are, to be cherished simply 'cuz you're you and not pretendin' to be someone you're not. I'm gonna show ya what love truly is about, what it truly means to respect yourself and not damn other people 'cuz you were once damned yourself.
Let me be your liberator. It'll be fun, trust me...
...in the end, however, you'll simply realize that dickin' with the wrong guy ain't no laughin' matter.
See ya Sunday dude...and keep on dreamin'.
Well howdy there pardner.