____________________

DIRTY AMERICAN DREAM
"Freedom of choice."

“The Dope Show” found himself with a considerable lead over Shane Clemmens and was daring to make it back to Ohio to expose Shane to the entire world as the underachiever he suspected him to be. That’s pretty fucked up when you’re “The Dirty Dog.” Making things worse, the relationship between our Hero, Shane Clemmens, and Bronwen was not getting any better. One could argue it was getting worse.

Bronwen’s hair is all over the place as she tries to berate Shane over the thundering noise of the helicopter overhead.

“I wish we did get married so I could get a fucking divorce!” Bronwen screams.

“Chill baby, chill.” Shane assures her as the Helicopter sets down.

Piloting the bird is Brett Lukas, in the passenger seat is Johnny Lukas. Johnny rolls out of the chopper with a couple gas cans.

“Terrible place for a pit stop Shane!” Johnny hollers.

“No shit.” Shane glances at Brett who quickly averts his eyes. “So He’s still a little…”

“Yeah he pretty much hates your entire being.” Johnny chuckles, “But he’s happy to help.”

“I’m happy for the help.” Shane chuckles.

Johnny hands off the gas cans to Shane who gets right to filling up the Challenger’s tank. Bronwen comes around the side of the car and leans up against the fender and nods towards Johnny.

“Shane and I are in a fight.” Bronwen says, “Big fight, end of the world kind of stuff.”

Johnny raises an eyebrow, “O…k… Well… He is a fuckface.”

“Biggest fuckface in the world.” Bronwen sighs.

“Can we hurry it up please? I have other shit to do!” Brett shouts over the Helicopter’s PA system.

“I thought we hugged this out last night.” Shane sighs.

“Yeah well I’m mad about some other shit now.” Bronwen says, producing Shane’s digital recorder, “Want to kill me?”

“No.” Shane stands up and snatches the recorder out of Bronwen’s hand. “You weren’t supposed to find that. Fuck.” Shane shakes his head, “How the hell DID you find that?”

“It was in the passenger seat Brainiac.” Bronwen continues, “You’ve got some more explaining to do.”

“EXCUSE ME.” Brett yells. “Look I’m happy to help but there’s COOL shit I could do with COOLER people.”

“So yeah, I should feel like shit.” Shane say.

“Like dogmeat, Shane.” Johnny adds.

“Like human fucken FILTH.” Bronwen finishes.

“LISTEN!” Shane grabs Bronwen by her belt loops and pulls her close for a kiss. “I have everything under control. Johnny—you and Brett go find that fucker and slow him down. He’s in a black 69 Mach One, that shouldn’t be too hard to spot.”

“Yeah but…” Johnny looks at the Bell chopper and then back at Shane, “How the hell do we slow him down?”

Shane smirks, “High Society finds a way.”

Johnny and Shane smack hands. Johnny heads back to the helicopter and hops in. The chopper lifts off and as it goes, the PA system fires up.

“I still hate you.” Brett’s voice crackles over the speaker.

The Helicopter flies ahead and Shane finishes emptying out the gas cans into the tanks. Shane tosses the cans into the trunk and makes for the driver’s side door but Bronwen stops him.

“He still hates you, you know.” Bronwen says.

“Oh I know.” Shane smirks, “So do bunches of other people.” Cheshire grin.

“I might have been joking when I said it.” Bronwen smiles…

“I had hoped.” Shane leans in for a kiss.

“Not so fast.” Bronwen stops him with a hand to the chest. “Don’t you think we should stop dawdling and get a move on?”

“But you stopped me--” Shane tries to speak but Bronwen stops him.

“Shush up Nancy.” She giggles.

“What the fuck.” Shane laughs, “Get in the car Woman.”

“Oh, I don’t mind if I do…man.”

Shane and Bronwen both hop into the Challenger fires it up and lets it rumble.

“Premium.” Shane nods, approvingly.

“High society.” Bronwen nods, “Now lets fuck off.”

The Challenger kicks up rooster tails as it rolls off the desert floor onto the road. It flies down the road growling as it goes.

Up Ahead.

Till’s holed at a hotel—The Bates Motel on Steroids. This place is a dive. Not even a roach would call it home. Still, for thirty bucks and a bottle of whiskey you can get the hot tub room that wasn’t scene to a murder. Dominique is sitting in the corner of the room, crouched down and looking helpless. “Return of the Living Dead” is playing on the television. Till’s in the hot tub, it’s full of suds and he’s got a fat cigar in his mouth.

“Oh now this is a pleasant establishment. Ten channels of cable, hot tub, the bed even vibrates.” Till smiles, his teeth shine in the light. “Perhaps we will road test the bed later.” Till scoffs and winks, exhaling smoke from both sides of his teeth, “Young again. I am a virgin you know. I trust you will treat me kindly.”

“What the hell happened to you Till.” Dominique shakes her head, “You use to be…”

“Human?” Till’s head drops forward, he glares and ashes his cigar on the carpeting beside him. “That was not the life for me. You will enjoy being better. Trust.” Smoke shoots out his nostrils—he’s a beast. “You will be my concubine.”

“You’ll have to kill me to fuck me, you realize that, right?” Dominique glares.

“I will fuck you either way, take your pick.” Till snorts. “There are many forms of fucking you are un aware of Miss Maxwell.” Till takes a tug off a bottle of whiskey. “Why not join me.”

Dominique rises up and approaches Till. Their eyes lock. Soon she loosens up. He breathes out.

“Fight if you enjoy pain. Otherwise, come willingly.” Till smiles.

There’s a flash of light. Dominique moans. Her skin pales. She lets out a sigh and it fogs the room. Her eyes turn grey and she gazes at Till.

“Willingly.” Till exhales.

Dominique begins stripping off her clothes.

 

DIRTY MANIFESTO
"Why would he drop a name like 'Nightdyne' hmm, I wonder."

Tomorow night, Sunday Night, Thursday Night.  Everyone's talking about what they're going to do 'this night' or 'that night.'  Fuck, if I ever say that again, smack the shit out of me.  Frankly I'm shocked to find out that Rayn's going to prove he's better than I am when we step into the ring 'tomorrow night at Aftershock.'  Rayn, are you sure you can handle being as bad ass as you imagine yourself?  Can you put in one hundred percent every week, carry F1X on your back and really be that dyed in the wool Champion?  Man, I sure as shit wish you were.  I wish you were better than Walsh, I wish you were better than I am.  If you were better I wouldn't feel like I'm jipped because I have such a fucktard for an opponent.  That's right fuck face.  You aren't proving anything on any night.  You're just going to flounder like the bitch you are, take your beating and snivel for whatever scraps Aidan Morag chooses to give you.  So fuck you for thinking anything is changing at Aftershock.  I'm Champion, I'm leaving Champion, and you're still going to be the little Wrestler that Couldn't--on any night.

I'm glad you reminded me of the RWA Universal Championship match, it's so meaningful in Fight One.  That shit is over bozo, Let it go.  I know you think that there's some kind of respect between us and that ultimately we might be pals.  Your promos seem more like romance than they do this "Flame war" you talk about.  I know you want to hold hands and talk about shit that happened ten years ago and fucken hold hands, but I'm not that guy.  I'm not your fucken friend, I'm not your co worker, I'm the Universal Champion in the new promotion.  Yeah, I loved RWA but we're in the here and now pal.  Hell, maybe you could learn from that, who really cares about your fucking ridiculous history anyway?

How dare you bring up the promotion of which we do not speak.  You and I both know that it is a broke ass promotion with a tainted title that everyone holds at once.  Fuck you for bringing it up and you're goddamn right I'm going to call you a fool for doing so.  Fuck's sake man, is that all you are, this history Destiny that's come and gone already?  You live so much in the past why the fuck don't you just go back there and live it up with your past self.  Butt fuck each other for all I care, just don't waste the Fight One Fan's time with it.  They are not watching Fight One Xperience to hear about RWA and the promotion of which we do not speak.

There was a moment earlier today when I stopped thinking about how much I loathe your existence and I considered what life would be like without people like you and Shawn Walsh.  Man I had to rub one off after that shit but seriously, I started wondering if you're necessary.  You know what I mean?  In the food chain in any environment there's the top and the bottom.  (Don't get excited about being bottom yet Rayn.) There's the top and the bottom.  The fucken king shits have to have something to eat for a snack.  And that's what you are.  You're the professional wrestling equivalent of a snack pack.  Not too long ago Shawn Walsh was feelin kinda hungry but knew he couldn't get the big match so he said "Hey, why not a snack pack" and asked Aidan for your face to kick in.  He did.  Mmm, yummy snack pack.

So there you have it Rayn, you're necessary.  You're the one that makes guys like Shawn Walsh feel superior.  See if he didn't, he wouldn't in turn think he stood a chance in hell against me.  You help him, help me.  It's a great little relationship we have, isn't it.  We're all working together as a team really when you think about it.  Annika would be proud, us Workers.

You like cocks, I like boobs.  You say it's opportunity, I say it's circumstance.  No matter the spin you put on things, you're still a cocksucker.  Watch your opportunity fail and feel the rush of being a victim of circumstance.  Who knows, I might throw in some swirling mischief.  Either way don't bleed to me about losing to douche bags like Jeff King.  He's main event level because he beat you and Knife?  No Rayn.  You have to BE in the fucken main even to BE Main Event level.  You can't just pat your faggot buddy on the back and make it so.  It doesn't work that way.  Fuck you and your loses.  Fuck you for thinking I give a fuck about what you think of that penny ante fuckup.

Infact, Fuck you Rayn.  Fuck you and all your bullshit.  Let's just get this over with.  I'm tired of giving you credit you don't fucking deserve.

 

 

DIRTY AMERICAN DREAM
"Torrid love."

“Hurry up and find this guy so we can get the fuck out of here.” Brett says, zipping the Helicopter through the air.

“He couldn’t have made it very far.” Johnny says, spying shit out through his binoculars.

Shane’s voice squawks over the radio, “Find em yet?”

“No. Fuck Face. We haven’t seen any cars in fifteen fucking minutes.” Brett growls.

“Roger that.” Shane’s voice cuts out.

“There!” Johnny points looking over his binoculars then back through them, “Three o’clock.”

The Helicopter banks and comes about bearing down on the desolate “Bates Motel on Steroids.” It hovers as Johnny gets a better. Look.

“Don’t get too close, he’ll get paranoid.” Johnny grabs up the radio. “Challenger, this is Hobo, we have a fix on Nighthawk’s position.”

Shane’s voice squawks a reply, “What the fuck?”

“Code names damnit!” Johnny shouts into the radio.

“Hobo?” Brett raises an eyebrow.

“Oh.” Shane’s voice squawks, “Uhh, Bobo, where is Kikecrotch?”

“HOBO.” Johnny shakes his head, “Fifteen miles yet, the place is called the Berkowitz Inn.”

“That’s a pleasant name.” Shane replies. “OK! Don’t let that fucker escape, I’ll be there asap!”

“Fuck this, I’m gonna get that big fucker myself.” Brett says, setting the Helicopter down in the parking lot.

“Brett, No.” Johnny says.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” Brett steps out of the helicopter and slams the door. Johnny rolls out the other side and shrugs, following his cousin.

Brett heads right to the door in front of the Mustang and pounds on the door.

“Open up!” Brett slams his fist on the door again, “Let me in the fucken place!”

Johnny backs up Brett with a tire iron in his head. Brett has a look at all four angles of the door and makes up his mind, “I’m kicking the fucken door in.”

“Do it.” Johnny says, ready to start swinging.

Brett rears back to kick the door open but just as his foot’s about to make contact with the door, Till opens the door. Brett steps into the room and stumbles across the room, falling onto the vibrating bed. Till’s in a big green robe.

“Sorry, I was indisposed. You must be the entertainment.” Till smiles.

“Damn right we are.” Johnny swings with the tire iron but Till catches it in his hand and yanks it out of his hand. He chuckles, “Now all I have to decide is which of you two girlies I’ll fuck first.” Till’s eyes burn as he stares down Johnny.

“Uhhh.” Johnny says.

“You’re not fucking anybody prick!” Brett screams as he brinks a chair down over Till’s back. Till does an about face and smiles at Brett.
“I like that. You are an opportunist.” Till grabs Brett by the throat.

Brett kicks and fights against Till’s grip.

“Oh how I love opportunists.” Till continues.

Johnny takes Till’s leg out from beneath Till. Till falls to his knees.

“Who’s fucking who now, bitch?!” Brett says, bringing a stiff knee into Till’s face.

Johnny wraps up Till in a full nelson and Brett grabs up the tire iron and smashes Till in the face with it.

“Again!” Johnny commands.

Brett slams the tire iron into Till’s face again. Johnny lets go and Till flops to the floor. Johnny and Brett proceed to lay in kicks and stomps to the downed Till. Dominique looks on from the bed, covering herself with a sheet.

“Ain’t so bad.” Johnny says.

“Ain’t Nothin!” Brett says, booting Till in the head, “This is the douche Shane was so fucken scared of? What a pussy.”

Johnny laughs.

“Lets go get something to eat. I worked up an appetite.” Brett says, stepping over Till.

The Challenger roars into the parking lot and screeches to a stop beside the Helicopter. Shane leaps out of the car and is greeted by the Lukas boys.

“Finito Shane.” Brett says, tossing the bloody tire iron at Shane’s feet. “No need to thank me. Since Johnny did all the work, right bitch?”

“You guys took him out?” Shane asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Yep. He’s knocked the fuck out.”

Meanwhile, Till’s rising to his feet.

“There’s something I should have told you about Till.” Shane points.

Brett and Johnny turn and both share the expression of “What the fuck?”

Till turns around and steps out the door, still in his bloody robe.

“I like these two Shane. Are they with you?” Till asks.

“Damn right sucka. No Cash Value.” Shane says.

“Oh, of course. The stable I started. Did you tell them that?” Till asks.

“What the fuck…” Johnny says.

“There’s a lot of things I haven’t told them.” Shane says stepping past Brett and Johnny. Shane nods towards them, “Take Bronwen and get the hell out of here.”

“Ok, see you later.” Brett pats Johnny, “Lunch?”

Brett pulls Johnny along with him.

“Are you ready to quit fucking around Shane?” Till asks, “Do you wish to save Bronwen?”

“That’s why I came Till.” Shane swallows. “I’m ready.”

“Ha. Funny.” Till’s eyes squint, “You are serious…”

“What the hell else can I do?” Shane asks.

“Exactly Shane.” Till smiles, “I am proud of you. You have come full circle.”

Shane sighs, “Just don’t take it out on them. Take it out on me.”

“Oh I like the passion Johnny and Brett exhibit. It stuns me. It really does.” Till walks up and extends his hand as the Helicopter full carrying Johnny, Brett, and Bronwen sails up into the air.

Shane looks at his hand and then back into his eyes,

“Give me your word.” Shane says.

“My word. Really?” Till asks, flattered.

“Yes.”

“You have my word.” Till growls.

Shane takes his hand and shakes it, “Your word is all you really have.”

Till pulls Shane close and takes him by the throat.

“You will not go back on this.” Till snarls.

“I won’t.” Shane looks away from Till and yanks his hand back.

“Very good.” Till smiles.
 

To be continued