As I said I'm kinda lost on the whole coming back being accepted shit so I just was bored and started writing. Shit it's been like a year or so since Ive managed to write anything ewrestling related hell I might be shit now and not worth trying to get back into the groove. Anyway yeah I have alot of interest in getting back into the hobby, really want to do it with everyones favorite Cajun since well he's a blast to write.
The arena was the same,even though the name was different. This former member of the Legacy ofChampions dismounted his steel horse on the sidewalk directly in front of theArena of Champions. Sure the moniker read ‘jOlt’ now, a new coat of paint andsome banners but they weren’t getting anything past this wily Cajun.
He’d heard the rumors thatthe powers that were had rekindled an old flame but he had no idea they’d upand changed everything. He let out a sigh, “An Ah had such high hope fo’ displace.”
Surrounding the entrance tothe arena were some stragglers looking to snatch a discounted ticket to theshow, mixed in with some high school kids who didn’t have money to get in. Someeven went as far as to wear their favorite wrestlers attire chasing a pipedream of grabbing a couple freebies. Even the program shillers had made theirway into the arena he once called home.
The Cajun sauntered past thedispersing group and approached the large glass doors. A large man rocking theever popular ‘Security’ t-shirt was just about to lock up when he noticed theCajun approaching.
“We’re sold out fella,” hestated without so much as a second look towards the scruffy patron.
“Oh bruddah Ah ain’t heerfo’ no ticket…” replied the Cajun shoving the toe of his boot between the doorand jam, “Ah’ll wait right heer while chu’ stroll right on back dere an’ tellBrandon Thomas dat Remy La’Roo bes requestin’ an audience wit’ him.”
“You mean Craig Thomas?”
“Did Ol’ Remi’ say CraigThomas? Ah don’ t’ink soh. Now git dah dick out cho’ mouth an listen when grownfolks is talk’n.”
The mood just changed, thelarge chest on the even larger man filled with air. His muscles tensedeverywhere, but most noticeably his jaws when he forced out, “Excuse me?”
“Chu’ heard me juni’a, anOle Remi’ ain’t nevah been one fo’ repeat’n himself so git tah stepp’n.” Lerouxmade the statement as he bit down on the end of one of his Backwoods Blends. Asusual he bit off the tip and spat it directly at the security guards feet, “Chustill heer?”
The arena was the same,even though the name was different. This former member of the Legacy ofChampions dismounted his steel horse on the sidewalk directly in front of theArena of Champions. Sure the moniker read ‘jOlt’ now, a new coat of paint andsome banners but they weren’t getting anything past this wily Cajun.
He’d heard the rumors thatthe powers that were had rekindled an old flame but he had no idea they’d upand changed everything. He let out a sigh, “An Ah had such high hope fo’ displace.”
Surrounding the entrance tothe arena were some stragglers looking to snatch a discounted ticket to theshow, mixed in with some high school kids who didn’t have money to get in. Someeven went as far as to wear their favorite wrestlers attire chasing a pipedream of grabbing a couple freebies. Even the program shillers had made theirway into the arena he once called home.
The Cajun sauntered past thedispersing group and approached the large glass doors. A large man rocking theever popular ‘Security’ t-shirt was just about to lock up when he noticed theCajun approaching.
“We’re sold out fella,” hestated without so much as a second look towards the scruffy patron.
“Oh bruddah Ah ain’t heerfo’ no ticket…” replied the Cajun shoving the toe of his boot between the doorand jam, “Ah’ll wait right heer while chu’ stroll right on back dere an’ tellBrandon Thomas dat Remy La’Roo bes requestin’ an audience wit’ him.”
“You mean Craig Thomas?”
“Did Ol’ Remi’ say CraigThomas? Ah don’ t’ink soh. Now git dah dick out cho’ mouth an listen when grownfolks is talk’n.”
The mood just changed, thelarge chest on the even larger man filled with air. His muscles tensedeverywhere, but most noticeably his jaws when he forced out, “Excuse me?”
“Chu’ heard me juni’a, anOle Remi’ ain’t nevah been one fo’ repeat’n himself so git tah stepp’n.” Lerouxmade the statement as he bit down on the end of one of his Backwoods Blends. Asusual he bit off the tip and spat it directly at the security guards feet, “Chustill heer?”
