The Windy Shitty (AKA my wife packed up our laptop)
Jun 25, 2016 20:49:46 GMT -6
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Spencer Adams, Bonnie Blue, and 1 more like this
Post by Mr. Wright on Jun 25, 2016 20:49:46 GMT -6
A Taylor Wright Tale
Chapter: Whatever the fuck I’m on: Windy Shitty (Fuck the Guardians)
“Follow my lead.” I said to the two gruesome tattooed men that Sanchez put by my side for this adventure. He called them Marley and Jacob and they were procured by an associate of Sanchez’s. He didn’t tell me who, but it didn’t matter. These two guys looked like some bad ass mother fuckers. Jacob was about 6 foot nothing but was built like a fuccin’ tank. He was inked up from head to toe as far as I could see and had a spacer in his lip that it looked like you could fit your entire fist through.
Marley was a bit more svelte, but very tall; standing about 6 foot 6 he was built like Lebron James but juiced up. He was fit and he too was inked up from head to toe and the spacers in his ears were filled with these spiked about 6 inches long. If I looked closely I could swear I saw a tinge of dried blood on them and something told me that it wasn’t his.
Basically, in a nutshell, I was glad these guys were on my side. We walked through yet another poor district of Chicago, and the graffiti here showed signs of Triads as well as some local Crips and Bloods. We walked past a Chinese Dry Cleaners and then finally came to our destination. I opened the door and just for shits and giggles kicked it down.
“3 Zimquilas, please.” I said with a wild smirk on my face.
That big fat fuck Alex Richards stood behind the bar with a fuccin’ boot in his hand and he stopped drinking out of it when he saw me.
“We don’t serve your kind here.” He said, but I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Marley decided to take a step forward and I had to hold him back. I thought my hand was gon’ fall off when I touched his chest for some reason.
“That’s not a way to treat a paying customer, now is it?” I started as I stepped towards the bar and dropped a 20 on the counter. “This should pay off the whole place, no?” I laughed and on cue my associated did as well.
“I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason.” He said before taking another sip out of his boot.
“You sound like a fuccin’ ignorant North Carolinian who’s afraid o’ gays.”
“Nah, those pricks are assholes because they’re bigots… I’m being a bigot ‘cause you’re an asshole. See the difference?” He laughed and fuccin’ again took a sip outta that disgusting looking boot.
Marley and Jacob flanked around the room. Marley ended up by the juke box and Jacob by a beaten down looking pay to play pool table.
“Listen, Richards… I’m here to make you an offer…”
“I wouldn’t take an offer from you if it was for a million dollars.” He interrupted… that fuccin’ fat fuck!
“Shut your fucking mouth, bitch, I’m trying to talk to you. Because you can’t get it through your thick fuccin’ skull that Mayor Sanchez ain’t the same guy that you hated back in the day. He just ain’t, bro. He’s tryin’ to help, really. A guy like you, a guy who knows Chicago… you could be a real help to us.”
“You’re a real fucking idiot, kid, aren’t you? Sanchez has brainwashed you hasn’t he? He’s a bad fucking dude, but I hope he wins that Rising Stars title so I can win the Battle Royal and he’ll have no choice but to give me that title shot he denied me so many times.” Richards said.
“This ain’t about our match… this is about the fate of Chicago. Shit is going down in this town, Richards, and you gotta choose your side. You gonna be on the winning team, or one of the many losing ones… you make your choice, fat man.” I promised.
Richards simply drank out of that wretched boot again and smiled in my direction.
“I’m already on the winning team, bitch.”
Marley hit the jukebox and “Who Got the Good Shit” by Temporal Wonkiness begins to play mid song
“I love this song… who got the good shiiiiiit!” Richards said with that fuccin’ smug ass smile on his face. It wiped away quickly as Marley hit the box again shattering the glass. Jacob snapped a pool cue in half over his knee with ease as I asked Richards one last time.
“Are you with us or against us?” I asked.
“I will fight you with every last breath in this fat fucking body.” He said with a snarl.
Marley started grabbing stools and breaking them. Jacob broke mirrors before heading towards Richards with Jacob flanking the other side.
“It didn’t have to be this way Richards. You could have seen the light and this all could have been avoided… I suggest you let them by.”
Suddenly, like way too suddenly, Jacob and Marley were surrounding Richards who looked at them, clenched his fist and then cocked his arm back. He looked into the soulless eyes of Marley, then turned around to Jacob. They stared holes into Richards like deeper than any that Sanchez could stare into me. I gotta say if I was in that position I would either shit my pants or get the hell outta dodge. Richards’ pants seemed clean, but he seemed to resolve to something before hopping over the bar with the grace of a hippo and taking a few steps away from me.
“Sorry.” I lied. “Not sorry.”
Marley and Jacob commenced to destroy each bottle of cheap liquor on the shelf and even pocketed a bottle of Zimquila. I gotta say, it ain’t a bad pay for a hard day’s work. I patted Richards on his bald and sweaty head.
“I’ll see you Sunday, bitch.”
“I’ll see you first.” He smiled back at me.
What a lame fucking comeback.
So I felt satisfied with the night. I could give Sanchez a solid no, and a report of wrecking up The Sloshed Pit which should be good enough for the crazy bastard and I even got me a bottle of that Zimquila I’ve heard so much about. A mix of Zima and Tequila? Only one way to find out. I pulled the bottle out of my pocket and started to crack it open.
“Heyyyyyyyyy!” A voice called out. I recognized it immediately. That twang and that sound of complete innocence could only come from one person.
“Derin.” I said with a smile on my face. She ran over from a company lookin’ car off 12th and Elm. I went to introduce her to my associates but they were gone. I didn’t even see them leave. But I did see a manhole cover that was being placed back on from underneath a few feet behind the innocent girl. Fucking Ninja Turtles.
“The Mayor sent me as your driver tonight.” She smiled. “Remember, that’s how we met. Cool, right?”
“Yea, cool.” I repeated. I was usually much better with words but something about this girl kept me questioning myself. She had a spell over me that I couldn’t shake. “You want a drink?” I lifted the silver bottle of Zimquila and motioned towards it. I sounded like a jackass.
“No thanks… gotta drive, remember?” She said as a matter of factly and I felt like even more of a jackass.
“Right, I think I’ll just…”
I nearly dropped the bottle as my pants dropped to the ground. They felt like they were being pulled down and I covered up as thought I didn’t have any underwear on. I guess its intention. I’ve got no problem going out in front of a thousand or so people every week with no shirt on and with what can basically amount as bathing suit pants but when my pants drop and my underwear is exposed, which keeps me more covered than my wrestling trunks I feel embarrassed.
So I bent over and pulled them back up, but not before falling face first into the ground. I hadn’t even had a sip of this drink yet but my pants were falling down and I was stumbling like a drunk, not to mention the babbling. All but the babbling could be explained by this unrecognizable outside force that seemed to be molesting me at every turn. And as I got up to my feet I saw that same look of disgust masked by apathy that I had grown to accept as my fate with Derin at this point.
“I swear I’m not…” and I dropped the bottle. Well, it felt like it was smacked out of my hand and it broke on the ground in front of me. Glass shattered and Derin took a small tumble backwards.
“Ouch” She said and I could see blood start to form in her increasingly crimson sock that was leading to her pearl white tennis shoes. It took all my effort not to look up those perfect legs to the bottom of her skirt that was just high enough to make me interested but low enough to make me want more.
Ok, so I snuck a peek.
But I was more distracted by the puddle of blood that was coming out the soles of her shoes. I led her to a stoop and sat her down. She was shaking and becoming increasingly pale. I took off her shoe and then carefully removed her sock. I could see a huge gash on her ankle cutting deep into the front part of her shin. I ripped off my shirt and tore a big piece off before tying it to the wound to try to decrease the blood flow and then picked up the phone and dialed 911.
“I’m so sorry about this.”
“It could have happened to anyone.” She said but I knew she was lying. She was disgusted by me. She couldn’t stand the sight of me and the very thought of sharing a car ride with me probably made her sick. That’s why when the ambulance came and picked her up I didn’t go with her. I thought I would do her a favor by returning the Car back to headquarters for her.
Chapter: Whatever the fuck I’m on: Windy Shitty (Fuck the Guardians)
“Follow my lead.” I said to the two gruesome tattooed men that Sanchez put by my side for this adventure. He called them Marley and Jacob and they were procured by an associate of Sanchez’s. He didn’t tell me who, but it didn’t matter. These two guys looked like some bad ass mother fuckers. Jacob was about 6 foot nothing but was built like a fuccin’ tank. He was inked up from head to toe as far as I could see and had a spacer in his lip that it looked like you could fit your entire fist through.
Marley was a bit more svelte, but very tall; standing about 6 foot 6 he was built like Lebron James but juiced up. He was fit and he too was inked up from head to toe and the spacers in his ears were filled with these spiked about 6 inches long. If I looked closely I could swear I saw a tinge of dried blood on them and something told me that it wasn’t his.
Basically, in a nutshell, I was glad these guys were on my side. We walked through yet another poor district of Chicago, and the graffiti here showed signs of Triads as well as some local Crips and Bloods. We walked past a Chinese Dry Cleaners and then finally came to our destination. I opened the door and just for shits and giggles kicked it down.
“3 Zimquilas, please.” I said with a wild smirk on my face.
That big fat fuck Alex Richards stood behind the bar with a fuccin’ boot in his hand and he stopped drinking out of it when he saw me.
“We don’t serve your kind here.” He said, but I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. Marley decided to take a step forward and I had to hold him back. I thought my hand was gon’ fall off when I touched his chest for some reason.
“That’s not a way to treat a paying customer, now is it?” I started as I stepped towards the bar and dropped a 20 on the counter. “This should pay off the whole place, no?” I laughed and on cue my associated did as well.
“I reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason.” He said before taking another sip out of his boot.
“You sound like a fuccin’ ignorant North Carolinian who’s afraid o’ gays.”
“Nah, those pricks are assholes because they’re bigots… I’m being a bigot ‘cause you’re an asshole. See the difference?” He laughed and fuccin’ again took a sip outta that disgusting looking boot.
Marley and Jacob flanked around the room. Marley ended up by the juke box and Jacob by a beaten down looking pay to play pool table.
“Listen, Richards… I’m here to make you an offer…”
“I wouldn’t take an offer from you if it was for a million dollars.” He interrupted… that fuccin’ fat fuck!
“Shut your fucking mouth, bitch, I’m trying to talk to you. Because you can’t get it through your thick fuccin’ skull that Mayor Sanchez ain’t the same guy that you hated back in the day. He just ain’t, bro. He’s tryin’ to help, really. A guy like you, a guy who knows Chicago… you could be a real help to us.”
“You’re a real fucking idiot, kid, aren’t you? Sanchez has brainwashed you hasn’t he? He’s a bad fucking dude, but I hope he wins that Rising Stars title so I can win the Battle Royal and he’ll have no choice but to give me that title shot he denied me so many times.” Richards said.
“This ain’t about our match… this is about the fate of Chicago. Shit is going down in this town, Richards, and you gotta choose your side. You gonna be on the winning team, or one of the many losing ones… you make your choice, fat man.” I promised.
Richards simply drank out of that wretched boot again and smiled in my direction.
“I’m already on the winning team, bitch.”
Marley hit the jukebox and “Who Got the Good Shit” by Temporal Wonkiness begins to play mid song
“I love this song… who got the good shiiiiiit!” Richards said with that fuccin’ smug ass smile on his face. It wiped away quickly as Marley hit the box again shattering the glass. Jacob snapped a pool cue in half over his knee with ease as I asked Richards one last time.
“Are you with us or against us?” I asked.
“I will fight you with every last breath in this fat fucking body.” He said with a snarl.
Marley started grabbing stools and breaking them. Jacob broke mirrors before heading towards Richards with Jacob flanking the other side.
“It didn’t have to be this way Richards. You could have seen the light and this all could have been avoided… I suggest you let them by.”
Suddenly, like way too suddenly, Jacob and Marley were surrounding Richards who looked at them, clenched his fist and then cocked his arm back. He looked into the soulless eyes of Marley, then turned around to Jacob. They stared holes into Richards like deeper than any that Sanchez could stare into me. I gotta say if I was in that position I would either shit my pants or get the hell outta dodge. Richards’ pants seemed clean, but he seemed to resolve to something before hopping over the bar with the grace of a hippo and taking a few steps away from me.
“Sorry.” I lied. “Not sorry.”
Marley and Jacob commenced to destroy each bottle of cheap liquor on the shelf and even pocketed a bottle of Zimquila. I gotta say, it ain’t a bad pay for a hard day’s work. I patted Richards on his bald and sweaty head.
“I’ll see you Sunday, bitch.”
“I’ll see you first.” He smiled back at me.
What a lame fucking comeback.
So I felt satisfied with the night. I could give Sanchez a solid no, and a report of wrecking up The Sloshed Pit which should be good enough for the crazy bastard and I even got me a bottle of that Zimquila I’ve heard so much about. A mix of Zima and Tequila? Only one way to find out. I pulled the bottle out of my pocket and started to crack it open.
“Heyyyyyyyyy!” A voice called out. I recognized it immediately. That twang and that sound of complete innocence could only come from one person.
“Derin.” I said with a smile on my face. She ran over from a company lookin’ car off 12th and Elm. I went to introduce her to my associates but they were gone. I didn’t even see them leave. But I did see a manhole cover that was being placed back on from underneath a few feet behind the innocent girl. Fucking Ninja Turtles.
“The Mayor sent me as your driver tonight.” She smiled. “Remember, that’s how we met. Cool, right?”
“Yea, cool.” I repeated. I was usually much better with words but something about this girl kept me questioning myself. She had a spell over me that I couldn’t shake. “You want a drink?” I lifted the silver bottle of Zimquila and motioned towards it. I sounded like a jackass.
“No thanks… gotta drive, remember?” She said as a matter of factly and I felt like even more of a jackass.
“Right, I think I’ll just…”
I nearly dropped the bottle as my pants dropped to the ground. They felt like they were being pulled down and I covered up as thought I didn’t have any underwear on. I guess its intention. I’ve got no problem going out in front of a thousand or so people every week with no shirt on and with what can basically amount as bathing suit pants but when my pants drop and my underwear is exposed, which keeps me more covered than my wrestling trunks I feel embarrassed.
So I bent over and pulled them back up, but not before falling face first into the ground. I hadn’t even had a sip of this drink yet but my pants were falling down and I was stumbling like a drunk, not to mention the babbling. All but the babbling could be explained by this unrecognizable outside force that seemed to be molesting me at every turn. And as I got up to my feet I saw that same look of disgust masked by apathy that I had grown to accept as my fate with Derin at this point.
“I swear I’m not…” and I dropped the bottle. Well, it felt like it was smacked out of my hand and it broke on the ground in front of me. Glass shattered and Derin took a small tumble backwards.
“Ouch” She said and I could see blood start to form in her increasingly crimson sock that was leading to her pearl white tennis shoes. It took all my effort not to look up those perfect legs to the bottom of her skirt that was just high enough to make me interested but low enough to make me want more.
Ok, so I snuck a peek.
But I was more distracted by the puddle of blood that was coming out the soles of her shoes. I led her to a stoop and sat her down. She was shaking and becoming increasingly pale. I took off her shoe and then carefully removed her sock. I could see a huge gash on her ankle cutting deep into the front part of her shin. I ripped off my shirt and tore a big piece off before tying it to the wound to try to decrease the blood flow and then picked up the phone and dialed 911.
“I’m so sorry about this.”
“It could have happened to anyone.” She said but I knew she was lying. She was disgusted by me. She couldn’t stand the sight of me and the very thought of sharing a car ride with me probably made her sick. That’s why when the ambulance came and picked her up I didn’t go with her. I thought I would do her a favor by returning the Car back to headquarters for her.