Post by Steve Sinclair on Jul 11, 2014 20:24:50 GMT
Backstage after beating Flash Funk like a old dog.........
Sick Nick walks through the curtain and feels real good about himself. He beat the dreaded Flash Funk curse into submission, now the only thing left was to find out who he was going to face next week. By the offices is the listing who advanced and who you will face in the next round. Sick Nick scans the lists.
Sick Nick “Showtime....Flash Funk? That must be a mistake. Soulja Boy, Theo Roe.....very good. K Bibby? Who in the hell is that?”
Sick Nick then checks the list of who he faces next week.
Sick Nick “K Bibby? This must be a joke.”
The next day.......
Today is a rare day for Sick Nick, who decided to hit the gym. Yes, Sick Nick, the fat out of shape guy who is tearing up the UAWF has hit the gym to get in a little work out.......just a shame that gym is bar and gym. A place for guys who tell their wives they are going to hit the gym but it is nothing more than a gym. Yeah sure there is equipment in there if you anted to work out, but no one uses it. The bar in the place spans a vast 150 feet and features 4 TV’s, 4 smoking hot bartenders with lots of beers. They even have a book full of Beers, from country color and taste.
Sick Nick is flipping through the book when we find him. They place is packed and is one of the last few places you can smoke in, for now that is. So with the book in one hand and cigar in the other, Sick Nick considers his next work out.......
The Cigar hangs from his lips as he casualty puffs on it. He adjusts his cowboy hat and rubs his check. The bartender named “Kitty” walks back over. She’s wearing a black top and tight low cut blue jeans with a stomach that seems to go forever.......
Kitty “What will it be partner?” A perky Kitty asks.
Sick Nick “I’m not sure.......”
Kitty “I think I know you.”
oh ho, the words no man wants to hear. Sick Nick looks up at her. “I don’t know you so.....I don’t think you would.”
Kitty “I saw you on TV.”
Sick Nick “You did?”
Kitty “Saturday night.”
Sick Nick “Yeah?”
Kitty “You wrestle don’t you?”
Sick Nick “Yeah....” he says but he’s thinking “Oh my god, a fan, maybe I can get lucky?”
Kitty “Why did you beat up that guy? What did he do to you? He seems sweet and all.”
Sick Nick removes the cigar from his mouth. “Who Flash Funk?”
Kitty “Is that his name? I wasn’t paying attention to what they were saying, I was checking out his rock hard abs.”
“Crap!” Sick Nick thinks. There goes his chances of scoring with a chick.
Kitty “He seems nice and all, I don’t understand what you have against him.”
Sick Nick “Well Kitty, Flash Funk is the very definition of evil. He’s a plague on my life. He ruins everything. A guy like that needs to be put to bed.”
Kitty leans on the bar top and with out knowing it, she pushes the “girls” up and in. Sick Nick waters at the mouth and can’t seem to look her in the eyes.
Kitty “Well the next time you put him to bed, bring him to my place. I’ll make sure he pays for whatever crime he did against you.”
Kitty reaches in her top and pulls out a card with her phone number and address on it. “Give him that. Tell him I’ll be waiting with open....arms.”
Kitty walks off. Sick Nick checks out her behind which is as nice as the front. He puts the cigar back in his mouth and takes a huge deep lung filling puff. The guy sitting next to Sick Nick is a fat slob. He gives Nick a shove with his elbow.
Fat slob “Man what a piece of arse....I should know because her and me one night....”
Nick looks at the guy. “No you didn’t.”
Fat Slob “Okay, maybe I didn’t, but my buddy....”
Sick Nick “No he didn’t.”
Fat Slob “Well no....but if they did we can imagine how it would be huh?”
Sick Nick “I guess. But she’s into those skinny fuckers like Flash Funk. Man that guy is ruining my life! First he causes me to lose, now he’s taking my fans!”
Fat Slob “Yeah I hear ya man. I know how it feels. Say man, I saw you Saturday night beat that little bastard down. About time someone put him in his place.”
Sick Nick “You saw that?”
Fat Slob “Yeah. I hope you win that World title. Who you facing next week?”
Sick Nick “K Bibby. Can you believe that?”
Fat Slob “That’s not right man. You deserve better. No one works harder than you.”
Sick Nick “That’s what I thought! But I’ll face this K Bibby and kick him out of the tournament and maybe I’ll face Theo Roe in the next round.”
Fat Slob “Maybe you’ll face Flash Funk too.”
Sick Nick “Maybe. He better pray he doesn’t. You know what man. I’m going to make K Bibby a example. He’s going to be my guinea pig and when I get done hurting him, It’ll send a message to anyone left in the tournament that I aim to win it.”
Fat Slob “Yeah man! You’ve got to win for guys like me all over the world.”
Sick Nick “Yeah man, guys like us got to stick together.”
Fat Slob “Yeah. Let me by you a beer.”
Sick Nick “Okay...but we need a bartender.”
Fat Slob “I’ll flag one down.”
The fat slob flags one down, the fat one behind the bar. She’s wearing next to nothing and weights as much as a bus. She waddles over all smiles.
Fat bartender “I know you! I saw you on the TV!”
Sick Nick “Yeah?”
Fat Bartender “I never meat anyone who was famous! Here have my number....”
She pulls out a number from her top that holds in boobs that have been rolled up into place. Nick shy away from taking the number.
Fat Slob “Well if you don’t want, I’ll take it.”
Sick Nick “Be my guest.”
Nick gets his beer as the fat bartender and fat slob start to make out, grossing out all near by as we fade to black.............................