Post by GRIMM on Jan 18, 2021 21:01:13 GMT -5
The lounge chair on this beach was nice. It didn’t matter that it was winter, California’s climate wasn’t all that bad. The server who kept bringing him beers had a nice ass that only improved the view. GRIMM sat there, calloused hand wrapped around a bottle of some import beer that tasted like shit, but it only served to get him drunk.
The trip back from Japan had sucked.
Flying coach sucked...especially considering his stature.
But this was nice.
Waves rolling in, distant cries of flying vermin otherwise known as seagulls, the sky overcast with heavy gray clouds, and the otherwise quiet did wonders for the psyche. GRIMM brought the bottle up, taking a long pull before tossing the empty one into the sand beside the chair. The hot server chick with the nice ass would be by soon to pick it up and drop off a fresh one.
Then his phone began to ring.
GRIMM let out an annoyed huff as he pulled it out of his pocket, glaring at the caller ID before silencing it. Not two seconds after he’d done that, it began to ring again. Same caller. It had been two days since the announcement came out of his signing to the Isle brand of WWH. He silenced the call one more time--only for another call to pop up a moment later.
He loved her like a daughter, but she was more aggravating than her old man at times.
GRIMM didn’t want to talk.
Not yet.
He didn’t know what to say to her.
Then came the text notifications, one right after the other. GRIMM didn’t bother to even read them. He just chucked the damn phone behind him, only for it to be snatched out of mid-air by the server with the nice ass as she brought him a beer. Looking closer upon the name tag pinned to her shirt said her name was Gracie.
“Careful, don’t wanna lose your phone on the beach, Sweetcheeks.” She handed it back, along with another bottle of beer.
“Yeah yeah,” He grumbled, nodding a quick thanks before turning the phone off completely and shoving it in his pocket. GRIMM knew why Maggie was calling--he was here...and her father, his normal manager wasn’t. He’d talk to her in time. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy this.
The beach, the sky, the waves...and Gracie, the server with the nice ass.
So uh, yeah.
Ain’t used to doin’ this, had a loudmouth manager talkin’ for me the last twenty-somethin’ years.
Name’s GRIMM, been in the business a long time, figured I could use a break from the indies. Get myself a real vacation spot and decent paycheck all in one. Figured it’s ‘bout as close to fuckin’ retirin’ as I’ll ever get so why the fuck not. Ain’t too bad here. Beach chairs’re comfy, plenty of beer and that one server with a nice ass.
So down to brass-fuckin’ tacks.
Ain’t got the patience for much else.
Facin’ some lesbo named Tiffany who’s a card shark and so fuckin’ sparkly it looks like she got locked in her grandma’s craft closet. Likin’ pussy is probably all we got in common, but that ain’t here nor there, who you fuck is your own fuckin’ business. She just looks like she’s gonna break in half in a stiff wind, but I been wrong before. Seen smaller bitches’n her handle worse than a bad storm.
Hell, my niece is one of ‘em. Magpie just won herself that #2 contender spot in Japan. Don’t know what the fuck else to say about that, but good for her. She ain’t so bad as she was last year the first time she got in the ring, but she also ain’t my fuckin’ problem no more.
So what the fuck else I gotta say--
I guess this lesbo’s wantin’ to show us all how good women can be between the ropes, but that point's kinda moot. She ain’t been payin’ much attention in the last ten fuckin’ years, WWH is fuckin’ loaded with broads that wrestle. Been to a show anywhere lately? You got bitches out here winnin’ world title belts and makin’ records. What the fuck’d you do, throw a dart at a board and just pick wrestlin’ as the thing to do after you got bored playin’ cards? Girl, what the fuck made you land on wrestlin’ of all things thinkin’ you’re gonna come on here and show the world how fuckin’ good women can be. They got ‘em right here in WWH. Look ‘em up.
Christ on a fuckin’ crutch, even my old ass knows how to Google some shit.
I got enough experience at this to know you don’t fuckin’ step in that ring blind.
Here’s hopin’ you ain’t that fuckin’ dumb.
Unlike you, I don’t got nothin’ to prove.
He looks on, confused as the server with the nice ass named Gracie comes into the shot--showing him her phone. We watch as he reads the information before speaking again.
THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHE FUCKIN’ LEFT?!
I DID ALL THIS FUCKIN’ SHIT FOR NOTHIN’??
GODDAMN IT.
Now I gotta do all this fuckin’ shit ALL OVER AGAIN FOR SOME ASSHOLE NAMED DR. KILLJOY? ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME. Oh fuck this. I’ll do it again tomorrow.
The screen goes static and we are left wondering what GRIMM will say now that his first opponent left without so much as a goddamn word.
The trip back from Japan had sucked.
Flying coach sucked...especially considering his stature.
But this was nice.
Waves rolling in, distant cries of flying vermin otherwise known as seagulls, the sky overcast with heavy gray clouds, and the otherwise quiet did wonders for the psyche. GRIMM brought the bottle up, taking a long pull before tossing the empty one into the sand beside the chair. The hot server chick with the nice ass would be by soon to pick it up and drop off a fresh one.
Then his phone began to ring.
GRIMM let out an annoyed huff as he pulled it out of his pocket, glaring at the caller ID before silencing it. Not two seconds after he’d done that, it began to ring again. Same caller. It had been two days since the announcement came out of his signing to the Isle brand of WWH. He silenced the call one more time--only for another call to pop up a moment later.
He loved her like a daughter, but she was more aggravating than her old man at times.
GRIMM didn’t want to talk.
Not yet.
He didn’t know what to say to her.
Then came the text notifications, one right after the other. GRIMM didn’t bother to even read them. He just chucked the damn phone behind him, only for it to be snatched out of mid-air by the server with the nice ass as she brought him a beer. Looking closer upon the name tag pinned to her shirt said her name was Gracie.
“Careful, don’t wanna lose your phone on the beach, Sweetcheeks.” She handed it back, along with another bottle of beer.
“Yeah yeah,” He grumbled, nodding a quick thanks before turning the phone off completely and shoving it in his pocket. GRIMM knew why Maggie was calling--he was here...and her father, his normal manager wasn’t. He’d talk to her in time. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy this.
The beach, the sky, the waves...and Gracie, the server with the nice ass.
So uh, yeah.
Ain’t used to doin’ this, had a loudmouth manager talkin’ for me the last twenty-somethin’ years.
Name’s GRIMM, been in the business a long time, figured I could use a break from the indies. Get myself a real vacation spot and decent paycheck all in one. Figured it’s ‘bout as close to fuckin’ retirin’ as I’ll ever get so why the fuck not. Ain’t too bad here. Beach chairs’re comfy, plenty of beer and that one server with a nice ass.
So down to brass-fuckin’ tacks.
Ain’t got the patience for much else.
Facin’ some lesbo named Tiffany who’s a card shark and so fuckin’ sparkly it looks like she got locked in her grandma’s craft closet. Likin’ pussy is probably all we got in common, but that ain’t here nor there, who you fuck is your own fuckin’ business. She just looks like she’s gonna break in half in a stiff wind, but I been wrong before. Seen smaller bitches’n her handle worse than a bad storm.
Hell, my niece is one of ‘em. Magpie just won herself that #2 contender spot in Japan. Don’t know what the fuck else to say about that, but good for her. She ain’t so bad as she was last year the first time she got in the ring, but she also ain’t my fuckin’ problem no more.
So what the fuck else I gotta say--
I guess this lesbo’s wantin’ to show us all how good women can be between the ropes, but that point's kinda moot. She ain’t been payin’ much attention in the last ten fuckin’ years, WWH is fuckin’ loaded with broads that wrestle. Been to a show anywhere lately? You got bitches out here winnin’ world title belts and makin’ records. What the fuck’d you do, throw a dart at a board and just pick wrestlin’ as the thing to do after you got bored playin’ cards? Girl, what the fuck made you land on wrestlin’ of all things thinkin’ you’re gonna come on here and show the world how fuckin’ good women can be. They got ‘em right here in WWH. Look ‘em up.
Christ on a fuckin’ crutch, even my old ass knows how to Google some shit.
I got enough experience at this to know you don’t fuckin’ step in that ring blind.
Here’s hopin’ you ain’t that fuckin’ dumb.
Unlike you, I don’t got nothin’ to prove.
He looks on, confused as the server with the nice ass named Gracie comes into the shot--showing him her phone. We watch as he reads the information before speaking again.
THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN SHE FUCKIN’ LEFT?!
I DID ALL THIS FUCKIN’ SHIT FOR NOTHIN’??
GODDAMN IT.
Now I gotta do all this fuckin’ shit ALL OVER AGAIN FOR SOME ASSHOLE NAMED DR. KILLJOY? ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME. Oh fuck this. I’ll do it again tomorrow.
The screen goes static and we are left wondering what GRIMM will say now that his first opponent left without so much as a goddamn word.
