Post by Steve Sinclair on Jan 13, 2018 17:35:29 GMT
Present Day
San Francisco, California.
The Passport Office - 870 Market St, San Francisco.
Sitting in the waiting area in all of his glory is the seven footer and “nearly” 400 pounds of pure sexyness, manager, agent, mogual real estate millionaire Nanook. In his custom suit cuz you can’t buy suits for himself off of the rack, Nanook is checking his phone because he is busy with a capital B. He is a wheeling and dealing fool from the minute he gets up to the minute he falls asleep, either getting deals done for other professional wrestlers in other promotions around the world, working on some big dollar real estate deal or just answering texts from his new wife, Sarah, who he met last year on a trip to Japan for a couple of meetings on a couple of deals. Sarah was working for one of the companies he meet with and the two just hit it off.
Little known fact, Sarah, lightly tanned blonde vixen of 26 years old (Nanook is in his mid 40’s) has a tattoo somewhere on her body that doesn’t see daylight unless you are visiting one of the clothing optional beaches in Europe that reads “Gold Digger”. It’s in a very fancy script with roses and other flowers around it. Looks very sexy if you were to see it. Despite what her lovely tattoo says, this is true love. They were married two months after meeting one another, a day after Nanook’s divorce from his first wife of 10 years Summer was finalized.
As Bester is sitting at a desk in the background talking to a lovely lady in her own right, Nanook’s phone buzzes and makes some noises, noises of a moaning chick who has been overcome with passion. This could or could not be a recording of Sarah from their honeymoon. Nanook’s face lights up with glee, perhaps there is a picture on his phone? Or he knows who is calling him. Either way Nanook presses the little red phone circle on his phone.
Nanook clears his throat. “Hey good buddy! Long time no hear! How’s it going?”
Now sitting in the locker room of Sal’s Soul Crushing Gym (and MMA school, naturally) is Joe Jones. He has the phone on speaker and is looking down at it with much disgust on his face.
“Cut the shit you fucking fat pig.” Joe says spitting venom at his one time best friend.
“Gee Joey, is that how you greet a old friend.”
“I hope your new wife bleeds you dry.”
“Oh come on Joe, why you hating? Just because I have a smoking hot young wife and you well, I heard you had some dude named Jose? Construction worker? Sounds so…..dirty. If he makes you happy then that is all that matters.”
“Don’t make me find you tubby and gut you like the fucking piece of shit that you are!”
“Oh Joey…..I see you still haven’t gotten over what happened in Knoxville, San Francisco.” Nanook says with a smirk on his face. Maybe this was planned all along…..
“That shit cost me! Cost me a couple of years in my career…”
“Stop right there Joey! First of all, your career, your so called career was already dead. When you couldn’t beat Caleb Hart, after you tried “oh so hard” to beat Caleb you were done. Washed up, stick a fork in ya cuz it was over with it but you couldn’t see it. You couldn’t face the fact that, in the eyes of…”
“Don’t you say his name!” Joe blurts out
“Jay…”
“You fucker! I swear to god….”
“You were over the hill, a old timer past his prime. Jay was correct when he hitched his wagon to the freight train that was Caleb Hart. Both of those guys made huge bucks! Dollars that you couldn’t bring to the table. It only made sense.”
Joe sighs. He hates this part of his wrestling past, how it all went downhill from there and Nanook keeps bring it up every chance he gets. It also rubs Joe the wrong way how Nanook profited from the legal matter that ensued after words. Joe decides to just cut to the chase.
“How did you know about Mexico?”
“Joey! Brother! I’m fucking Nanook! I know everything! Everyone!”
“That still didn’t give you the right to tell…”
“Oh please! I did you a favor! You were going to sneak off in the middle of the night and leave that guy….girl…..it high and dry. You should be thanking me! You should be here on your knees kissing my feet thanking me for breaking off that soap opera crap you call a love life! Do you know what you are Joey? Huh? Do you fucking know who you are?”
Several eyes are on Nanook in the waiting area of the Passport office on Market street in San Francisco where Bester still calls home even though DarcPro is no more. Bester also hasn’t worked that much since DarcPro closed, believing that it will reopen “Any day now”. Oh Bester you hopeful happy chap!
Joe is fighting the urge to throw his phone across the room. Joe isn’t alone now as another meat head in the background of Sal’s Soul Crushing Gym (and MMA School) is standing drying off after his shower and is eavesdropping on Joe’s convo and he’s unsure if he should cover up with his towel and exit the locker room with “one of those guys” in it.
“I don’t know Kim, what am I? Huh you sloth, what am I?”
“You are the Cleveland Browns! Not the two time 0 and 16 losers but the Browns team that uprooted themselves and bolted to Baltimore in middle of the night, fucking over all of their fans without kissing them goodbye! That is who you are! Oh and you are also the current Browns, hopeless, winless, futureless.”
“Is that so?”
Nanook slowly brings his phone up to his lips. “It’s a fact.”
Nanook can’t help but smile. He feels so good right now.
“And speaking of Mexico. If you think you’re getting a spot on that roster, I hate to break it to you but you stupid little agent Keith, he’s been lying to you. There won’t be a deal in place for you in Mexico. That group want winners! They want guys who will bring fans to the building! They want winners! And that is what Bester is! A winner! Not some old broken down has been such as yourself.”
“Bester….please. That fucking guy couldn’t find his way to Mexico with GPS.”
“He doesn’t need GPS. He has ME! But hey! If you don’t believe me, then I’ll see you in Mexico and you can watch as Bester signs his deal. Listen! I’ll make sure it’s not a wasted trip for you. I’m going to open a school there, to help out Whirlwind Wrestling and I could use a young boy or two. You and that midget of yours, you two will fit that bill just nicely.”
“Gee thanks.” Joe says sarcastically
“Don’t ever say I never did anything for you.”
In the background Bester is returning with some paperwork in his hand. Nanook spots him.
“You take care Joey. You keep chasing that dream to one day return to the ring and be all you can be! In the meantime, guys like Bester will be taking your spot. Bye!”
Nanook ends the call and pushes himself up out of the chair as Bester walks up to him with a big smile on his face.
“I had my picture taken! I’m getting a passport Nanny!” Bester says so happy, so happy.
“Ah! Good! Glad we got that settled.”
“So where are we going?” Bester says all wide eyed.
“Ever been to Mexico Best?”
“Mexico? No.”
“Well back your bags buddy because we’re going to Mexico!”
“Boy. I hope we can get over those walls that President Trump has been building.”
Nanook chuckles. “Don’t worry about it Best. You leave that to me!”
San Francisco, California.
The Passport Office - 870 Market St, San Francisco.
Sitting in the waiting area in all of his glory is the seven footer and “nearly” 400 pounds of pure sexyness, manager, agent, mogual real estate millionaire Nanook. In his custom suit cuz you can’t buy suits for himself off of the rack, Nanook is checking his phone because he is busy with a capital B. He is a wheeling and dealing fool from the minute he gets up to the minute he falls asleep, either getting deals done for other professional wrestlers in other promotions around the world, working on some big dollar real estate deal or just answering texts from his new wife, Sarah, who he met last year on a trip to Japan for a couple of meetings on a couple of deals. Sarah was working for one of the companies he meet with and the two just hit it off.
Little known fact, Sarah, lightly tanned blonde vixen of 26 years old (Nanook is in his mid 40’s) has a tattoo somewhere on her body that doesn’t see daylight unless you are visiting one of the clothing optional beaches in Europe that reads “Gold Digger”. It’s in a very fancy script with roses and other flowers around it. Looks very sexy if you were to see it. Despite what her lovely tattoo says, this is true love. They were married two months after meeting one another, a day after Nanook’s divorce from his first wife of 10 years Summer was finalized.
As Bester is sitting at a desk in the background talking to a lovely lady in her own right, Nanook’s phone buzzes and makes some noises, noises of a moaning chick who has been overcome with passion. This could or could not be a recording of Sarah from their honeymoon. Nanook’s face lights up with glee, perhaps there is a picture on his phone? Or he knows who is calling him. Either way Nanook presses the little red phone circle on his phone.
Nanook clears his throat. “Hey good buddy! Long time no hear! How’s it going?”
Now sitting in the locker room of Sal’s Soul Crushing Gym (and MMA school, naturally) is Joe Jones. He has the phone on speaker and is looking down at it with much disgust on his face.
“Cut the shit you fucking fat pig.” Joe says spitting venom at his one time best friend.
“Gee Joey, is that how you greet a old friend.”
“I hope your new wife bleeds you dry.”
“Oh come on Joe, why you hating? Just because I have a smoking hot young wife and you well, I heard you had some dude named Jose? Construction worker? Sounds so…..dirty. If he makes you happy then that is all that matters.”
“Don’t make me find you tubby and gut you like the fucking piece of shit that you are!”
“Oh Joey…..I see you still haven’t gotten over what happened in Knoxville, San Francisco.” Nanook says with a smirk on his face. Maybe this was planned all along…..
“That shit cost me! Cost me a couple of years in my career…”
“Stop right there Joey! First of all, your career, your so called career was already dead. When you couldn’t beat Caleb Hart, after you tried “oh so hard” to beat Caleb you were done. Washed up, stick a fork in ya cuz it was over with it but you couldn’t see it. You couldn’t face the fact that, in the eyes of…”
“Don’t you say his name!” Joe blurts out
“Jay…”
“You fucker! I swear to god….”
“You were over the hill, a old timer past his prime. Jay was correct when he hitched his wagon to the freight train that was Caleb Hart. Both of those guys made huge bucks! Dollars that you couldn’t bring to the table. It only made sense.”
Joe sighs. He hates this part of his wrestling past, how it all went downhill from there and Nanook keeps bring it up every chance he gets. It also rubs Joe the wrong way how Nanook profited from the legal matter that ensued after words. Joe decides to just cut to the chase.
“How did you know about Mexico?”
“Joey! Brother! I’m fucking Nanook! I know everything! Everyone!”
“That still didn’t give you the right to tell…”
“Oh please! I did you a favor! You were going to sneak off in the middle of the night and leave that guy….girl…..it high and dry. You should be thanking me! You should be here on your knees kissing my feet thanking me for breaking off that soap opera crap you call a love life! Do you know what you are Joey? Huh? Do you fucking know who you are?”
Several eyes are on Nanook in the waiting area of the Passport office on Market street in San Francisco where Bester still calls home even though DarcPro is no more. Bester also hasn’t worked that much since DarcPro closed, believing that it will reopen “Any day now”. Oh Bester you hopeful happy chap!
Joe is fighting the urge to throw his phone across the room. Joe isn’t alone now as another meat head in the background of Sal’s Soul Crushing Gym (and MMA School) is standing drying off after his shower and is eavesdropping on Joe’s convo and he’s unsure if he should cover up with his towel and exit the locker room with “one of those guys” in it.
“I don’t know Kim, what am I? Huh you sloth, what am I?”
“You are the Cleveland Browns! Not the two time 0 and 16 losers but the Browns team that uprooted themselves and bolted to Baltimore in middle of the night, fucking over all of their fans without kissing them goodbye! That is who you are! Oh and you are also the current Browns, hopeless, winless, futureless.”
“Is that so?”
Nanook slowly brings his phone up to his lips. “It’s a fact.”
Nanook can’t help but smile. He feels so good right now.
“And speaking of Mexico. If you think you’re getting a spot on that roster, I hate to break it to you but you stupid little agent Keith, he’s been lying to you. There won’t be a deal in place for you in Mexico. That group want winners! They want guys who will bring fans to the building! They want winners! And that is what Bester is! A winner! Not some old broken down has been such as yourself.”
“Bester….please. That fucking guy couldn’t find his way to Mexico with GPS.”
“He doesn’t need GPS. He has ME! But hey! If you don’t believe me, then I’ll see you in Mexico and you can watch as Bester signs his deal. Listen! I’ll make sure it’s not a wasted trip for you. I’m going to open a school there, to help out Whirlwind Wrestling and I could use a young boy or two. You and that midget of yours, you two will fit that bill just nicely.”
“Gee thanks.” Joe says sarcastically
“Don’t ever say I never did anything for you.”
In the background Bester is returning with some paperwork in his hand. Nanook spots him.
“You take care Joey. You keep chasing that dream to one day return to the ring and be all you can be! In the meantime, guys like Bester will be taking your spot. Bye!”
Nanook ends the call and pushes himself up out of the chair as Bester walks up to him with a big smile on his face.
“I had my picture taken! I’m getting a passport Nanny!” Bester says so happy, so happy.
“Ah! Good! Glad we got that settled.”
“So where are we going?” Bester says all wide eyed.
“Ever been to Mexico Best?”
“Mexico? No.”
“Well back your bags buddy because we’re going to Mexico!”
“Boy. I hope we can get over those walls that President Trump has been building.”
Nanook chuckles. “Don’t worry about it Best. You leave that to me!”