User Poets
The Shadow Pope
- Joined
- Jan 6, 1995
- Messages
- 2,192
- Points
- 36
- Age
- 44
- Location
- Top of the Pile
- Website
- www.valeriansgarden.com
"Yo, Tyrus."
The man with the bronzed skin looked up to see his foreman approaching with a man in tow behind him. The man in tow walked with a limp, supported by a wooden cane. Tyrus took the earbuds out of his ears and listened.
"This guy says he's a distant relative and that he couldn't wait until your shift was over," he said. "Now, you're one of my top guys so I don't mind a little personal business during your shift, but make it quick, okay?"
"Sure," replied Tyrus. He nodded at his foreman, who left the two men alone.
"I heard a rumor that this is where the Gladiator ended up," said the man, "What's up, Ty? You don't call, you don't write... after everything we went through?"
Tyrus smiled. "Good to see you, John."
The two men shook hands, and Tyrus planted his other hand on John's shoulder.
"How've you been?" he asked.
"Not bad," replied John, "Finally had surgery to remove the splintered cartilage in my knee, doctors said I was going to be walking with a limp for the rest of my life but I wouldn't need a full knee replacement. My daughter is a sophomore in college now, she's going for pre-law."
"Amazing," replied Tyrus, "Please give her and Marisol my best."
"I will," said John.
"So now that that's out of the way," continued Tyrus, "Why are you here?"
"I could never get one over you," replied John, "I'm here in an official capacity as your old manager."
Tyrus laughed.
"My old manager?" he asked, "I haven't wrestled in almost a decade, and I haven't had anyone fighting for me for even longer. Why would I want to go back, and even if I did, why would I want your help?"
"Old man's regret?" asked John, "I know I let you down, Ty... can you at least hear me out so I can try to make it up to you?"
Tyrus stared at him for a long moment.
"You didn't want to make it up to me when promoters stopped calling," he said, "and you disappeared off the face of the earth after I got hurt. Why should I trust you?"
John threw his hands in the air. "Fine," he said, "you don't want to trust me. I get it. Then let me just make it up to you with no strings attached."
He handed a folded piece of paper to Tyrus, who immediately opened it and looked.
"Who's Kim Cho?"
"Call him," urged John, "and you'll see I'm not BSing you."
John turned and hobbled toward the exit.
"Then maybe if I'm lucky you'll call me," he continued, "and you'll realize I'm not bulsh*tting you. Either way, it was good to see you."
Tyrus watched until John was out of sight. He stared at the paper, sighed, and put it in his pocket as he got back to work.
However... ... ... his mind was now racing.
Didn't he owe it to himself to give it one more try?
The man with the bronzed skin looked up to see his foreman approaching with a man in tow behind him. The man in tow walked with a limp, supported by a wooden cane. Tyrus took the earbuds out of his ears and listened.
"This guy says he's a distant relative and that he couldn't wait until your shift was over," he said. "Now, you're one of my top guys so I don't mind a little personal business during your shift, but make it quick, okay?"
"Sure," replied Tyrus. He nodded at his foreman, who left the two men alone.
"I heard a rumor that this is where the Gladiator ended up," said the man, "What's up, Ty? You don't call, you don't write... after everything we went through?"
Tyrus smiled. "Good to see you, John."
The two men shook hands, and Tyrus planted his other hand on John's shoulder.
"How've you been?" he asked.
"Not bad," replied John, "Finally had surgery to remove the splintered cartilage in my knee, doctors said I was going to be walking with a limp for the rest of my life but I wouldn't need a full knee replacement. My daughter is a sophomore in college now, she's going for pre-law."
"Amazing," replied Tyrus, "Please give her and Marisol my best."
"I will," said John.
"So now that that's out of the way," continued Tyrus, "Why are you here?"
"I could never get one over you," replied John, "I'm here in an official capacity as your old manager."
Tyrus laughed.
"My old manager?" he asked, "I haven't wrestled in almost a decade, and I haven't had anyone fighting for me for even longer. Why would I want to go back, and even if I did, why would I want your help?"
"Old man's regret?" asked John, "I know I let you down, Ty... can you at least hear me out so I can try to make it up to you?"
Tyrus stared at him for a long moment.
"You didn't want to make it up to me when promoters stopped calling," he said, "and you disappeared off the face of the earth after I got hurt. Why should I trust you?"
John threw his hands in the air. "Fine," he said, "you don't want to trust me. I get it. Then let me just make it up to you with no strings attached."
He handed a folded piece of paper to Tyrus, who immediately opened it and looked.
"Who's Kim Cho?"
"Call him," urged John, "and you'll see I'm not BSing you."
John turned and hobbled toward the exit.
"Then maybe if I'm lucky you'll call me," he continued, "and you'll realize I'm not bulsh*tting you. Either way, it was good to see you."
Tyrus watched until John was out of sight. He stared at the paper, sighed, and put it in his pocket as he got back to work.
However... ... ... his mind was now racing.
Didn't he owe it to himself to give it one more try?