Post by jimmywicked on Apr 19, 2016 1:00:03 GMT
Cornwall, Ontario
Friday, April 15, 2016
Scene opens on the raised hood of a rusted pickup truck. Clanging and banging can be heard from behind the hood as clearly someone puts some work into the engine. The sun is slowly setting behind the hood, casting am amber light across every ding and rust spot and softening it in the magical ambiance that comes with the sinking of the sun.
Suddenly the scene is ripped to shreds by a shrill voice calling out.
Jimmy! What the hell you doin out there? I made dinner! Get in here!
A loud smash can be heard as whoever worked the engine of this truck bounced his head off of the hood hard enough to cause a shower of rust flakes to fall.
Comin!
A splendid blonde mullet appeared from behind the hood, a hand still rubbing the side as if to brush away the lump forming underneath. Jimmy staggered toward the house, his jeans greasy with diesel and sweat and his muscle shirt no longer the advertised colour of white. He moved out of view, and the shrill voice erupted again.
You been working on that truck all day Jimmy? You're not really leavin'.
I got to Luce. I got a gig. In Vegas. Gotta make sure the old girl will make the trip.
If you leave this house James Wallace, don't bother coming back! I've had enough of your antics!
Fine Luce, have it your way. And it's Jimmy Wicked!
A door can be heard slamming and Wicked walked quickly to his truck, slamming the hood down as he went. A shower of rust rained down onto the windshield, and Wicked brushed it away with the one working wiper as he settled in behind the wheel. He turned the key and stepped on the gas, the engine rumbling to life like an asthmatic cougar. A skinny blonde stomped out of the house and stood with her hands on her boney hips staring at the truck. She opened her mouth to squawk again but Wicked gunned the engine, drowning her out to the delight of listeners (and dogs) everywhere. She jumped back as Wicked put the truck in gear, sending a rooster trial of mud several feet in the air and narrowly missing her.
She stood in the driveway and watched as the truck disappeared down the street. As the scene fades out, her last words to the parting taillights can be heard
Good luck you bastard...
Fade out...
Denver, Colorado
Monday, April 18, 2016
Scene opens on a busy Interstate 70 highway, with cars flying past a solitary figure standing on the side of the road. He's got his thumb out, trying to flag donw passing traffic for a quick ride. He looks directly at the camera and nods.
Damn truck left me just this side of Denver. Blew up in a shower of oil and rust. Kinda beautiful really. An industrial fountain. But at 65, it was pretty Wicked! And messy. Bet they still got that whole lane closed. Must be why no one's stoppin to pick me up. Don;t they know I'm a workin man. I'm headin to Vegas, baby! Got a gig wrestlin for this Valentine chick. Think she's a little off her rocker, but as long as the cheques don't bounce I'm in.
He turned and began walking backwards down the road, thumb out as trucks and cars flew past him at breakneck speed. After a few minutes, he shrugged and resumed walking down the road.
Got a match coming up tomorrow night. Takin on some space cadet named Rad. I could say all kinds of shit about him, but to be honest bein a space cadet would be Wicked! Mike Bradley too. He's got a weak heart. That's not Wicked! Guy shouldn't be in a ring. No hate, just don't wanna see his take a fall when he's in the ring with me.
Good luck boys. Lets put on a good show. Who knows, Valentine might just keep us all on!
Now thats Wicked!
Scene fades out as Wicked walks off into the rising sun.
Friday, April 15, 2016
Scene opens on the raised hood of a rusted pickup truck. Clanging and banging can be heard from behind the hood as clearly someone puts some work into the engine. The sun is slowly setting behind the hood, casting am amber light across every ding and rust spot and softening it in the magical ambiance that comes with the sinking of the sun.
Suddenly the scene is ripped to shreds by a shrill voice calling out.
Jimmy! What the hell you doin out there? I made dinner! Get in here!
A loud smash can be heard as whoever worked the engine of this truck bounced his head off of the hood hard enough to cause a shower of rust flakes to fall.
Comin!
A splendid blonde mullet appeared from behind the hood, a hand still rubbing the side as if to brush away the lump forming underneath. Jimmy staggered toward the house, his jeans greasy with diesel and sweat and his muscle shirt no longer the advertised colour of white. He moved out of view, and the shrill voice erupted again.
You been working on that truck all day Jimmy? You're not really leavin'.
I got to Luce. I got a gig. In Vegas. Gotta make sure the old girl will make the trip.
If you leave this house James Wallace, don't bother coming back! I've had enough of your antics!
Fine Luce, have it your way. And it's Jimmy Wicked!
A door can be heard slamming and Wicked walked quickly to his truck, slamming the hood down as he went. A shower of rust rained down onto the windshield, and Wicked brushed it away with the one working wiper as he settled in behind the wheel. He turned the key and stepped on the gas, the engine rumbling to life like an asthmatic cougar. A skinny blonde stomped out of the house and stood with her hands on her boney hips staring at the truck. She opened her mouth to squawk again but Wicked gunned the engine, drowning her out to the delight of listeners (and dogs) everywhere. She jumped back as Wicked put the truck in gear, sending a rooster trial of mud several feet in the air and narrowly missing her.
She stood in the driveway and watched as the truck disappeared down the street. As the scene fades out, her last words to the parting taillights can be heard
Good luck you bastard...
Fade out...
Denver, Colorado
Monday, April 18, 2016
Scene opens on a busy Interstate 70 highway, with cars flying past a solitary figure standing on the side of the road. He's got his thumb out, trying to flag donw passing traffic for a quick ride. He looks directly at the camera and nods.
Damn truck left me just this side of Denver. Blew up in a shower of oil and rust. Kinda beautiful really. An industrial fountain. But at 65, it was pretty Wicked! And messy. Bet they still got that whole lane closed. Must be why no one's stoppin to pick me up. Don;t they know I'm a workin man. I'm headin to Vegas, baby! Got a gig wrestlin for this Valentine chick. Think she's a little off her rocker, but as long as the cheques don't bounce I'm in.
He turned and began walking backwards down the road, thumb out as trucks and cars flew past him at breakneck speed. After a few minutes, he shrugged and resumed walking down the road.
Got a match coming up tomorrow night. Takin on some space cadet named Rad. I could say all kinds of shit about him, but to be honest bein a space cadet would be Wicked! Mike Bradley too. He's got a weak heart. That's not Wicked! Guy shouldn't be in a ring. No hate, just don't wanna see his take a fall when he's in the ring with me.
Good luck boys. Lets put on a good show. Who knows, Valentine might just keep us all on!
Now thats Wicked!
Scene fades out as Wicked walks off into the rising sun.