07-29-2022, 11:21 PM
The letter arrived as all letters do.. with the letter carrier. It was addressed to a name long since forgotten… Joe something or another. Years of drug and alcohol abuse has done damage on the long term memory of our protagonist. Former SCW alumni, The Real Speed. A former world champion, but better know for his deathmatches that brought extreme violence to SCW. He steps out of his house, wearing nothing more than a bathrobe, and accepts his mail from the mailman.
TRS: “Hey John, nice day for delivery eh?”
His obvious Canadian accent is very obvious.. he was a Canadian after all. Wasn’t he?
John: “Sure is Joe, how’s things going with you and the cats?
Ah yes, the cats are important.. some sort of comedic relief to play off of.. how long has it been? 2008? 2012? Surely long enough that it’s not the same cat… yeah definitely not. Has to be a different cat.
TRS: “Oh yeah, Mr.Fluffington is doing very well. We just celebrated his fifth birthday… thanks for asking John. Anyways, I’m going to go read through my mail now. I’m sure it is just bills and junk, but you never know. You take care now”
John: “You as well sir, I will see you next week.. as today is clearly Friday, the last working day of the week for me.”
With that The Real Speed re-enters his home. It is nice modest home with various cat items.. trees, litter boxes, toys. A medium sized black cat is sleeping on his sofa. It pays little to no attention as The Real Speed sits down and filters through his mail.
TRS: “Oh wow, a letter from SCW headquarters.. probably a royalty cheque. Man do I love getting these.
He rips open the letter and is disappointed to see there is no cheque
TRS: “No cheque? Oh man, I am disappointed.”
His disappointment turns to intrigue as he reads the letter.
TRS “Dear The Real Speed.. it is with great pleasure that we invite you to participate at Rise to Greatness. If you so choose you may be one of the entrants in our gimmick battle royale. For participation you will be compensated five-thousand dollars USD…. Which is odd, because I am Canadian and SCW is a Canadian company… must be a typo… anyways.. if you wish to participate please let us know by contacting blah blah blah blah…
Speed tosses the letter on his table and looks at his cat
TRS: “I’m to old of that shit.. but five grand would buy you a lot of cat food… maybe I’ll do it.”
Mr. Fluffington “purrrrrr, meow”
TRS: “You really think they will remember me?.. Of course they will, I’m a legend. Hey I wonder if that stupid Greg Cherry is going to be there. Boy that guy was THE PITS. Or that stupid Malakai guy, that was also a Jason guy, who was also a something else guy.. I beat him with a roll up.”
Mr.Fluffington “meow”
TRS: “Of course I remember Chad Evans, he was my best friend. Even though he never once called me or hung out with outside of work. I hope he’s there. And Xander Valentine, that bald headed fuck. Ok fine, I will go and enter it. You’ve convinced me.”
And with that, our hero has agreed to enter the great gimmick battle royale. May God (not Chad Evans), please have mercy on his soul, and to every other poor unfortunate soul who will be forced to watch as this fat, middle aged man, tries to relive his glory days.
-END-
TRS: “Hey John, nice day for delivery eh?”
His obvious Canadian accent is very obvious.. he was a Canadian after all. Wasn’t he?
John: “Sure is Joe, how’s things going with you and the cats?
Ah yes, the cats are important.. some sort of comedic relief to play off of.. how long has it been? 2008? 2012? Surely long enough that it’s not the same cat… yeah definitely not. Has to be a different cat.
TRS: “Oh yeah, Mr.Fluffington is doing very well. We just celebrated his fifth birthday… thanks for asking John. Anyways, I’m going to go read through my mail now. I’m sure it is just bills and junk, but you never know. You take care now”
John: “You as well sir, I will see you next week.. as today is clearly Friday, the last working day of the week for me.”
With that The Real Speed re-enters his home. It is nice modest home with various cat items.. trees, litter boxes, toys. A medium sized black cat is sleeping on his sofa. It pays little to no attention as The Real Speed sits down and filters through his mail.
TRS: “Oh wow, a letter from SCW headquarters.. probably a royalty cheque. Man do I love getting these.
He rips open the letter and is disappointed to see there is no cheque
TRS: “No cheque? Oh man, I am disappointed.”
His disappointment turns to intrigue as he reads the letter.
TRS “Dear The Real Speed.. it is with great pleasure that we invite you to participate at Rise to Greatness. If you so choose you may be one of the entrants in our gimmick battle royale. For participation you will be compensated five-thousand dollars USD…. Which is odd, because I am Canadian and SCW is a Canadian company… must be a typo… anyways.. if you wish to participate please let us know by contacting blah blah blah blah…
Speed tosses the letter on his table and looks at his cat
TRS: “I’m to old of that shit.. but five grand would buy you a lot of cat food… maybe I’ll do it.”
Mr. Fluffington “purrrrrr, meow”
TRS: “You really think they will remember me?.. Of course they will, I’m a legend. Hey I wonder if that stupid Greg Cherry is going to be there. Boy that guy was THE PITS. Or that stupid Malakai guy, that was also a Jason guy, who was also a something else guy.. I beat him with a roll up.”
Mr.Fluffington “meow”
TRS: “Of course I remember Chad Evans, he was my best friend. Even though he never once called me or hung out with outside of work. I hope he’s there. And Xander Valentine, that bald headed fuck. Ok fine, I will go and enter it. You’ve convinced me.”
And with that, our hero has agreed to enter the great gimmick battle royale. May God (not Chad Evans), please have mercy on his soul, and to every other poor unfortunate soul who will be forced to watch as this fat, middle aged man, tries to relive his glory days.
-END-