The "putting something up to avoid a no-show" RP
Jun 5, 2016 15:30:10 GMT -6
John Gable, Spencer Adams, and 2 more like this
Post by Erin Fausse on Jun 5, 2016 15:30:10 GMT -6
3:00 AM: the hour of infomercials and salvation in the guise of sneering televangelists always quick to remind you of your sins. The hour of empty sidewalks illuminated by flickering streetlights, save for the occasional stumbling drunk or shambling junkie, ranting at the heavens, screaming into the infernal void lurks under the surface of us all. The hour of impaired revelations: as if a certain mixture of intoxication and sleep deprivation was the concoction that gave humanity the clairvoyance required to discover the secret fate of all life. 3:00 AM: the hour humanity sleeps, so why am I still awake?
My heart's racing, my skin's tingling; the high hasn't worn off yet. My eyes may be following an ant crawling up and down this shithole hotel's wall, but my brain's rewinding the highlights. Behind my eyes I see everything play out in slow motion, endlessly. Not that I'm complaining by any means; if I could live in this moment forever, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
Poor Andre. Bastard never had a chance. Not really. Wrestling is his passion, the thing he's sacrificed so much for and will continue to risk everything he has for, and when it comes to wrestling I can't hold a candle to him. Thing is, this match was never going to be determined by wrestling skill. I just had to outthink him, and that part was easy. Every step of the way. I could see it in his face; the second he realized just what was happening was the second before I smashed a steel chair into his face.
Too late.
That's the thing about getting caught in a trap. You don't what's happening right up until you do but by then it's too late. Always too late. What good's a trap you can escape? You should have seen the look on his face when he saw the chair, saw it was much too late. It was priceless, absolutely mesmerizing. A stupid fucking deer in the headlights, frozen, only able to watch as the car barreled right into him. Didn't even get to limp into the woods to die, no, he fell right then and there and the choir of boos started. The hate rained down on me, sweet music to my ears.
A thousand and one hearts broke in unison and brought me to cloud nine.
My heart's racing, my skin's tingling; the high hasn't worn off yet. My eyes may be following an ant crawling up and down this shithole hotel's wall, but my brain's rewinding the highlights. Behind my eyes I see everything play out in slow motion, endlessly. Not that I'm complaining by any means; if I could live in this moment forever, I'd do it in a heartbeat.
Poor Andre. Bastard never had a chance. Not really. Wrestling is his passion, the thing he's sacrificed so much for and will continue to risk everything he has for, and when it comes to wrestling I can't hold a candle to him. Thing is, this match was never going to be determined by wrestling skill. I just had to outthink him, and that part was easy. Every step of the way. I could see it in his face; the second he realized just what was happening was the second before I smashed a steel chair into his face.
Too late.
That's the thing about getting caught in a trap. You don't what's happening right up until you do but by then it's too late. Always too late. What good's a trap you can escape? You should have seen the look on his face when he saw the chair, saw it was much too late. It was priceless, absolutely mesmerizing. A stupid fucking deer in the headlights, frozen, only able to watch as the car barreled right into him. Didn't even get to limp into the woods to die, no, he fell right then and there and the choir of boos started. The hate rained down on me, sweet music to my ears.
A thousand and one hearts broke in unison and brought me to cloud nine.
