Post by Johnny Gillmen on May 16, 2016 17:01:26 GMT
April 29, 2016 – 6:00 PM
Outside the Keg Room...
...we find Johnny Gillmen and Helena standing outside of the white Nissan Versa, waiting to go inside the rustic drinking establishment on the corner of Alameda and Staples. The area surrounding the bar isn't exactly the "newest" part of town, featuring an old gas station just feet away from the bar.
HELENA: Tell me you liked it...the dinner, that is.
Johnny shook his head. While the date itself had been going very smoothly, without any sort of hitch, the Italian dinner wasn't as good as he remembered.
JOHNNY GILLMEN: Bellino's just hasn't been doin' too good these days. It was...passable.
The German brunette chuckled, surveying some of the older model vehicles that are parked outside the run-down watering hole.
HELENA: What are we doing out here? This isn't exactly the safest area...
JOHNNY: I wanna introduce ya to an old friend of mine, Miss Aggie.
HELENA: Who?
Johnny pulled out his iPhone 6S and dives into his camera reel; Helena chuckled as he showed her a selfie, with him and the venerable bar owner Miss Aggie, that was taken a little over a week ago.
JOHNNY: Agnes Hobson—when I wanna seek counsel on somethin', I talk to her; I've known her for quite a long time. If ya wanna know everything there is to know about the goin's-on in Corpus Christi and beyond, Miss Aggie's the name to trust. Gossip, actual news, everything...but I must give ya some caution. Aggie's ran the Keg Room thirty-five years and does have a bit of an acquired taste, so whatever ya do, lemme do the talkin' at first 'til ya get to know her and for God's sake...don't stare.
HELENA: At what?
JOHNNY: Anything.
Johnny and Helena stroll inside the old drinking joint, which is louder than usual. As country-western music from the 80s and 90s blares from a coin-operated jukebox, the couple slowly walks through the cigarette smoke-filled area, taking in the cacophony and noise that's being made by the bar's patrons; Johnny and Helena sit down next to each other at the bar, waiting for Miss Aggie to arrive from the back.
HELENA: This place is loud!
JOHNNY: Yep, it is. When this waterin' hole gets wild and noisy, that generally means one thing: all heck's about to break loose.
The two look around at the old Elvis Presley black-and-white photographs that adorn all four sides of the establishment; they watch as two gentlemen wearing black Western-style suits with Stetson cowboy hats play a friendly game of 8-ball on one of the pub's two billiards tables. It is at this moment in time when Miss Aggie herself steps out from the back storage area. Upon seeing her favorite customer front and center, the elder woman lets out a shrill scream and a wide grin.
“HEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRE'S JOHNNY!!!”
The music suddenly stopped. The patrons went into silence, turning their attention toward the couple sitting at the bar.
Johnny, to his credit, could only muster a sigh.
–------
JOHNNY'S LOG
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016
'Sup dudes and dudettes?!
Last time y'all saw me compete, I went out to that ring and did EXACTLY what I said I was gonna do. I stepped into that very squared circle...and won myself one of the biggest prizes I've ever won throughout my entire career. People like Alex Jones or Landon Dalmon, your current VWS World and Velocity titleholders respectively, can sit down and talk down to me, actin' as if I was a waste of their time altogether, but in the end...it just don't matter. 'Cause I, Johnny Gillmen, control the very destiny of the VWS World title picture whether the bad dudes of the company like it or not.
And the fun thing is...ya never know WHEN I'm gonna sit there and cash in that l'il contract. It could be on the 4th of July; heck,, it could happen before the start of the NFL preseason!
It just don't matter--'cause when I DO cash in that briefcase, I'm gonna make the most of it and become your VWS World champ, provin' once and for all to the entire planet that I can dare to dream.
But I ain't plannin' on gettin' TOO far ahead of myself--'cause I've got homework to do this week.
After all, I'm just a fella who considers himself a patient man. I will wait 'til the time is just right, and then...ONLY then, I'll strike. When I do, I'm gonna be the one to show the VWS fanatics that I am, in fact, the face of this company. That I am, in fact, the torchbearer who will shine his light upon the darkness, exposin' it for everyone to see. That I am, in fact, the bringer of hope, joy, and happiness to those who've needed it the most in their lives.
All without bein' afraid of screwin' up every once in a while.
Seems to me like Avery Miles III has loads upon loads of grapefruits, 'cause he wants to take the first swing at Mr. Jones and swipe his title away from him. I'm pretty darn happy to be taggin' with him this week against Amok, who was in that battle royal with me two weeks ago, and Night Rider, a new competitor who I know absolutely nothin' about. It'll be fun to tag with Mr. Miles and show him that I can take care of business out there by puttin' the whuppin' on the competition.
Yet I know nothin' comes easy in this gig...so I gotta stay the course and keep on truckin' away, even if things don't pan out very well.
–------
Moments later...
...after a round of laughter, the music started right back up again. Johnny could only eke out a sly grin as Aggie approached him with an ice-cold bottle of Bud Light--his "usual" drink of choice whenever he visits the pub.
MISS AGGIE: And how are we doin' this evenin'?!
JOHNNY: It's funny ya should put it that way...we are doin' fine. Though I'd imagine it would be safer to donate blood than listenin' to the sounds goin' on in my head.
Helena watched intently as Johnny took a small first sip of brew. This was the Texas A&M-Corpus Christi grad at his most relaxed--when he's able to sit down, have himself a beer or two, and enjoy a recap of the day's events. The 65-year-old alum of Texas A&M, the College Station campus affectionately nicknamed "The Mother Ship" by the ex-Islander, notices Helena for the very first time.
MISS AGGIE: Who do we have here on this dreary evenin'?
HELENA: I'm Helena.
MISS AGGIE: Ahh, nice to meet ya hun. Johnny here's a good man for bringin' ya over here and allowin' ya to take in some good ol'-fashioned Texas twang and culture. What would ya like for a drink, it's on the house.
HELENA: I'm sorry madam...I don't drink.
Aggie laughed out loud.
MISS AGGIE: Darlin', I've ran this joint for 35 long, hard years, and I've never seen anyone admit they've never drank before.
HELENA: It's...quite a long story.
MISS AGGIE: I can tell—you're a proud woman who only seeks to live her life in peace yet can't shake off past demons.
Keeping a potential customer satisfied, Aggie handed Helena a giant bottle of Ozarka water. The German history student turned toward Johnny, perking up her right brow before whispering in his ear, wondering how in the world could this bartender know about her abusive, alcoholic ex-boyfriend.
HELENA: How'd she know about that, J.J.? About Biff?!
Johnny whispered back.
JOHNNY: Aggie knows everything—about people, places, things, ya name it.
Miss Aggie stepped in, trying to decipher the internal conversation going on between the couple.
MISS AGGIE: And I see a man...who only wants to go outta his way to make sure this woman is as comfy as she can be, but destiny will be catchin' up to him soon—real soon.
The Islander alum widened his eyes just a tad, for he realized the significance of the bartender's perception. He began to realize that, someday, he would have to defend Helena--not to mention himself--against the likes of a big, strong human being such as Biff.
Suddenly, and without warning...the bar's front entrance door swung open on the inside, causing the music and all patrons' conversations to stop almost instantaneously. Standing in the pub's doorway was none other than Biff himself.
And he didn't look too pleased to see Johnny hanging around with his former girlfriend.
JOHNNY: I have a really bad feelin' about this...
~TO BE CONTINUED~
–--------
Sometimes tag team matches can be a mix of everything--ya either square off with or against people ya either know or don't know--and nine times outta ten, the team that's united the most often will come out the winner. Sometimes things just don't go accordin' to plan, but I'm VERY confident that Avery and I will step up our games and have a l'il fun out there...
...at the expense of Amok and the new rookie, Night Rider.
Amok, I KNOW we've met before somewhere. If ya don't remember who I am...then perhaps I oughta spell it out for ya. Ya tried to connive your way into the World title picture by takin' out Gabriel Ellis and throwin' your weight into that battle royal at Uprising, but dude...that didn't turn out so good for ya at MSG now, didn't it? Last week, ya got off to a good start and never let up, beatin' Johnny Wicked in a relatively entertainin' match that had me bouncin' up and down like how my butt flies off that seat while ridin' the Texas Giant rollercoaster, and I'll give ya credit for facin' the music and givin' us common folks a slight glimpse of what ya can do.
But all the praise in the world won't do ya any good this week.
Ya see, the problem with you is that ya got a wee bit ahead of yourself the last time you and I saw each other in a ring. Ya thought ya could just "weasel" your way into the VWS title scene without a singular match to your credit, but now that ya have one under your belt...ya STILL ain't ready for primetime. Perhaps, one day, you'll be primed and ready to hang with the very best that the Syndicate has to offer--but now this week I'm afraid. You've yet to show me your true potential in competition, and 'til you're able to do so...then the best thing ya oughta do is to go out and discover the tenets of bein' a successful wrestler.
Things like the heart, the desire, the passion to keep drivin' down the road--even after a screw-up or two.
Night Rider...if only ya had a "K" in your name somewhere; otherwise you'd be reminiscent of the character played by David Hasselhoff many eons ago. Then again...you're not, and that's a good thing. Now to be very fair, I don't know too much about ya, but lookin' at some of your YouTube clips when you were in the indies, I can say for certain that ya impose quite the interesting challenge. After all, ya got a God-given big frame at, what, 6'4" and 285; so I'm very convinced that you can try and outpower me at every step of the way. Then again, you can also pull things off outta nowhere given your suprisingly good agility--includin' maneuvers that many pundits would consider to be totally bogus and, hence, not within the rulesheets.
Except there's one minor problem that's currently holdin' ya back.
I understand that wrestlin' CAN be a sport in which the competition can be VERY intense and heated at times. That bein' said...as Yoda so eloquently puts it: "fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate...leads to suffering." When ya spend all that time in the ring losin' your temper, ya lose sight on the mission at hand--defeatin' a smaller dude like myself. Face it buddy...if ya wanna prevent yourself from bein' distracted by your inner urge to throw a temper tantrum, here's what I want ya to do. Think of a happy place--a haven in which only YOU can reflect upon your career and how you can improve on it.
Otherwise...you're gonna be in for a wild night.
See ya'll Tuesday dudes--keep on dreamin'.
...at the expense of Amok and the new rookie, Night Rider.
Amok, I KNOW we've met before somewhere. If ya don't remember who I am...then perhaps I oughta spell it out for ya. Ya tried to connive your way into the World title picture by takin' out Gabriel Ellis and throwin' your weight into that battle royal at Uprising, but dude...that didn't turn out so good for ya at MSG now, didn't it? Last week, ya got off to a good start and never let up, beatin' Johnny Wicked in a relatively entertainin' match that had me bouncin' up and down like how my butt flies off that seat while ridin' the Texas Giant rollercoaster, and I'll give ya credit for facin' the music and givin' us common folks a slight glimpse of what ya can do.
But all the praise in the world won't do ya any good this week.
Ya see, the problem with you is that ya got a wee bit ahead of yourself the last time you and I saw each other in a ring. Ya thought ya could just "weasel" your way into the VWS title scene without a singular match to your credit, but now that ya have one under your belt...ya STILL ain't ready for primetime. Perhaps, one day, you'll be primed and ready to hang with the very best that the Syndicate has to offer--but now this week I'm afraid. You've yet to show me your true potential in competition, and 'til you're able to do so...then the best thing ya oughta do is to go out and discover the tenets of bein' a successful wrestler.
Things like the heart, the desire, the passion to keep drivin' down the road--even after a screw-up or two.
Night Rider...if only ya had a "K" in your name somewhere; otherwise you'd be reminiscent of the character played by David Hasselhoff many eons ago. Then again...you're not, and that's a good thing. Now to be very fair, I don't know too much about ya, but lookin' at some of your YouTube clips when you were in the indies, I can say for certain that ya impose quite the interesting challenge. After all, ya got a God-given big frame at, what, 6'4" and 285; so I'm very convinced that you can try and outpower me at every step of the way. Then again, you can also pull things off outta nowhere given your suprisingly good agility--includin' maneuvers that many pundits would consider to be totally bogus and, hence, not within the rulesheets.
Except there's one minor problem that's currently holdin' ya back.
I understand that wrestlin' CAN be a sport in which the competition can be VERY intense and heated at times. That bein' said...as Yoda so eloquently puts it: "fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate...leads to suffering." When ya spend all that time in the ring losin' your temper, ya lose sight on the mission at hand--defeatin' a smaller dude like myself. Face it buddy...if ya wanna prevent yourself from bein' distracted by your inner urge to throw a temper tantrum, here's what I want ya to do. Think of a happy place--a haven in which only YOU can reflect upon your career and how you can improve on it.
Otherwise...you're gonna be in for a wild night.
See ya'll Tuesday dudes--keep on dreamin'.
