Post by Steve Sinclair on Oct 23, 2015 17:43:47 GMT
Scene opens up with HillBilly Sutton wearing a brand new pair of Wranglers jeans in middle of Ole Smokey MoonShine distillery in Pigeon Forge Tennessee. He is standing by the big copper pot they have on display where they still make Shine in to this day. He is posing next to the pot, looking down at the flame under it and you can tell he is posing and not really doing anything other than showing off the jeans. He’s also sporting a Redneck Remedy Moonshine tee shirt.
Nanook comes waddling in from the side ahead of Billy.
”Good day. My name is Nanook and I am the agent to this man right here. Moonshine legend, wrestling superstar and the man that will this week give a beat down to one lucky UWL superstar only on Showtime, home of the UWL HillBilly Sutton! Now when my client isn’t busy making the latest batch of Shine, when he isn’t busy working out in his personal backwoods gym lifting logs and throwing rocks, when my client and best friend isn’t busy getting his knuckles busted open on some chumps forehead. My client is relaxing and plotting his next move in his comfort fitting Wrangle Jeans.”
Billy glances up at the camera and smirks. His hair has been slicked back, his beard brushed out and looks full and fluffy, and clean. He takes a couple of steps towards the camera, his head tilted down slightly.
“That’s because Wrangle jeans are made like no other jeans on the market, much like how my Moonshine isn’t like any other Shine on the market. You see, much like my Shine, Wrangle jeans won’t leave you feeling like sour grapes. My Shine and these jeans, will make you feel comfortable, relaxed, feeling good about yourself. The patented u shaped cut of these Wrangle jeans give you more more and won’t pinch or ride up on you. They will feel like they have been custom made for you, they will become your favorite pair of jeans.”
”Even when you pick up a pair right off the rack, that is how well they fit and feel after a hard days of work.”
“Honest to god. These jeans feel so good they feel like I’m not wearing anything at all. When I’m hauling firewood, lugging around 50 pound bags of sugar over my shoulder or press slamming old men like Arch Stanton around in the ring, I get the job done in my Wranglers. I wouldn’t have it any other way!”
And cut…..
Out in the woods in the foothills of Tennessee is where we find HillBilly Sutton on his Uncle Ned’s second cousin’s farm. The leaves are changing colors. The temperatures are dipping colder by the night. It’s clear as the sky is blue, change is in the air. Winter is coming. Billy is standing under a big old silver maple with a mason jar of his own in his hand. He is looking up at the tree, maybe he has become a big foliage freak?
“Some people find Fall to be their favorite time of the year. With the colors of the leaves, cooler temps and the arrival of the harvest it’s not hard to see why so many people like fall so much. Me? I’m a spring kind of person. That’s when everything is fresh and new, life is blooming all around you. That is when you get shade from mother nature from the eyes in the skies in the helicopters. Of course nowadays I don’t way to worry about that as I went legal. Everywhere you look….change is amoung us.”
Billy glances at his mason jar.
“The gays can get married in all 50 states. You can get legal pot in what? 12 states now? Hell one of em allows you to have non medical marijuana. All dey want is the tax money. Much like the Shine business, the pot business is changing. I remember my cousin Popcorn Sutton saying. “I ain’t ever going to put fruit and whatnot in my shine. That is for pussies. Be a man, drink it as god intended it to be!” and now that I have my own line of Shine. You won’t find Strawberries, plums, peaches, cherries and other bullshit in it. No apple pie from me. To me, that is just a fad. Watering down good Shine for the stupid pussies of the world to drink so they can feel special too.”
Billy takes a sip of his Shine.
“So when I saw you Evan, with your grape flavored Shine. That last shred of respect I had for ya, which to be honest wasn’t much after the whole Haley stuff, that last stitch of respect I had fer ya. It broke and slipped away from me. Never took ya for one of the lady boys who like fruit in your drinks. Surprised you didn’t chase that imposter Shine with a dachary. By the way I can tell you watered down dat shine so don’t stand der and pretend you were drinkin’ dat straight up der Cowgirl.”
Another sip.
“But of course it all makes sense you know if ya think ‘bout it. Evan Caravelle, former UWL Champion, sportin’ a dress, beatin up on little girls, kidnaps little girls cuz that is about the only way he’ll ever get a date. With his little girlie drinks, manicured hands, ketchup packets hidden in his fists. I bet you even wear a male thong too huh? Shame you broke that mason jar Evan. You could have used it to pickle your balls in it because clearly you won’t be needed them anymore. You could have put them on a shelve next to Bruce Jenner's balls, bring your dates over after your conversion operation and hold them by the hand and point to them. “You see them Jack…”
Billy says in a high pitched mocking voice.
“Those used to be mine and my name used to Evan but now I go by Devin…..Devin Caravelle and I’m going to take care of you tough guy. So just relax and let me do my magic.”
Billy takes a drink of his Shine.
“If your gunna take grapes and turn them into alcohol, better make sure you stomp them into wine so you can have them with your cheese. Hold your pinkie out too Evan when you sip your wine. That five o’clock shadow…..ain’t foolin’ no one. See Evan, Devin. Real men, don’t shave their chests. They have chest hair, from drinking non watered down, non pussy moonshine. They work on race cars, scrape their knuckles on big blocks and four speed transmissions. And when a real man does that, they get chicks. It’s not chest hair, it’s vagina hair from all of the women who rubbed their beavers all over ya. Real men drive American muscle cars, like a 700 horse Dodge HellCat, not some pussy ass BMW shit boxes I bet you have in the old garage Evan. The blast Pantera till they blow the speakers. Crush beer cans on your forehead and shot little bambi right between the eyes. No need to make jerky, I’ll eat that shit raw, bloody raw and that’s how you’ll end up looking like Saturday night Evan. Beaten to a pulp. Real blood flowing down your face, you’ll have broken bones, separated shoulder and a dislocated kneecap. I haven’t forgotten what you did to Haley. I haven’t forgotten the words I spoke towards you. Wins and losses don’t mean jack this week.”
Billy takes one more sip.
“But beating your ass. Dat’s all dat matters.”
Billy tilts his head up slightly.
“Like I said. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Fade out.