Post by Superb Dick Fury on Oct 12, 2013 23:37:11 GMT -5
Saturday, Saturday 12th 2013
Alcatraz Island – San Francisco, CA at 5:56pm
Dick stares at the sign with curiosity. Defaced with an anarchy sign, the entrance to Alcatraz Island now reads “Scottywood’s Personal Recreation Area.” Fury shakes his head. After his recent sabbatical this was his lasts top before heading back to shitty ass Canada.
Fury takes a step forward but has to almost leap out of the way as a black van with no windows races past him from the direction of the ferry dock toward the building. Dick uses both middle fingers making a motion under his chin toward the fan that screeches to a halt in front of the entrance.
Fury squints to try and see what is happening. Two men get out of the front of the van wearing what appear to be High Octane Wrestling jackets. They open the side door of the van and pull out a large man in a jump suit with a hood over his head and handcuffs around his wrist. As the men drag the hooded man toward the building all Dick Fury can make out is something about the man wanting to finish his steak.
Fury continues forward but is stopped.
“Sorry, you can’t go any further.”
Dick looks over, another douchebag wearing a HOW jacket and sunglasses. Dick can’t figure out the sunglasses, its not bright.
“Why the fuck not?”
The man points over at a High Octane Wrestling production truck that has a “Rumble at the Rock” promo painted on.
“Dick doesn’t give a fuck about some Rumble at the Rock. This is Dick’s last stop before going back to Canada.”
The man shrugs at Dick.
“Look man, you have a problem talk to Lee Best. He has rented the whole place out for the next two weeks.”
Dick squints at the man.
“Lee Best…”
Dick had met Lee Best only one time, when his cousin Matt was in the Best Alliance with Lee. It was a party to celebrate one of the Best Alliance’s accomplishments, something that happened often and Dick was in town. Dick liked Lee and they got along great. But renting out the entire Island of Alcatraz just when Dick is trying to avoid thinking about his next few days, is just bullshit.
“Where is Lee?”
“I’m sorry sir, he is not currently on site.”
Dick stares at him.
“So, you’re telling Dick e can’t get in and the one guy who could get him in, isn’t here?”
The man shakes his head.
“No sir, what I’m telling you is if you’re not in High Octane Wrestling you can promptly fuck off.”
With that, the man turns and heads away from Dick Fury who stands amazed at what had just occurred. Suddenly a loud alarm begins to blare through the speakers. A voice begins over the intercom.
“It is now 6pm. Lockdown is in effect.”
Dick looks at the gate closing and scoffs.
“Bullshit.”
Dick is shit out of luck on visiting Alcatraz; the Rumble at the Rock lockdown has begun. Inside right now every member of High Octane Wrestling is locked away for a week with no outside contact while Dick Fury is stuck on the outskirts having to leave for Canada in the morning to face Pat Gordon Jr. for the second time and walk away as the rightful Canadian X Heavyweight Champion.
He looks around, realizing there is no one else other than a few production members sitting by the vans smoking cigarettes and talking about the cocaine they did with the wrestlers the night before off of hooker’s tits. Dick looks back at the Ferry dock where there is strangely no activity.
“Fuck.”
Dick heads over toward the production trucks.
“Hey, I told you man, you have to fucking go!”
Dick stops and stares at the moron Best hired to set up for one of the largest HOW pay-per-views of the year. He looks back at the docks and then back at the guys.
“Don’t know if you noticed or not, but you shut down the fucking island you fucking shithole. How the fuck is Dick supposed to get back?”
Dick throws his arms up, astonished at their ignorance. The workers look at each other then at Dick.
“Ummm…”
Dick’s eyes bulge out of his head.
“What? You have a fat cock in your mouth? What is Dick to do?!”
Both men shrug as Dick runs his hands through his hair with frustration.
“You.. you.. you.. fucking.. FUCKS! When Dick talks to Lee, Dick guarantees you will regret this!”
The man who originally told Dick to leave throws his hand up.
“First off, I don’t know who you think you are, but I can guarantee Lee wont give two shits if some hippy fuck who talks in third person is stuck without a boat ride home. Secondly, why the fuck do you talk in third person? Fucking weirdo.”
Dick is simply astonished. The look upon his face can only be described as divaish.
“How dare you speak to Dick Fury that way you peon.”
They look at each other again.
“Dick Fury? I mean, sounds sort of familiar but..”
Dick cuts them off.
“Former Best Alliance member Matt Fury’s cousin.”
They stop and begin laughing. Dick is even more confused.
“So, because you are the cousin of a guy who was in the Best Alliance for, what… a month or two, we should be concerned about you? Fuck off man.”
With that they turn and begin walking away from Dick who stands, filling with rage. He just can’t believe what is going on. In less than twenty-four hours he is supposed to be on a plane so that Monday night he can beat Pat Gorgon JR for the second time.
But now, he is unsure of when the next ferry will come. Will he be stuck here for two weeks? Dick’s mind goes crazy with uncertainties and questions. It’s his time to shine, his time to go home with the gold but instead he is stuck on an island and not even able to interact with those also on the island.
Fury looks up at the building, knowing somewhere in there Mike Best is plotting Scottywood’s demise. Somewhere in there, Scott Stevens is plotting the rape of Kirsta Lewis. Somewhere in that building, somebody has a sammich.
Dick Fury is fucking hungry.
Saturday, Saturday 12th 2013
Alcatraz Island – San Francisco, CA at 9:20pm
Dick opens the production truck door and steps out. He takes the napkins he found in the glove compartment and wipes his ass before pulling his pants up. He throws the napkins in the truck and shuts the door.
“That will show those cocky fucks you don’t disrespect Dick.”
Fury sighs and looks around. He begins to head toward the ferry dock kicking a few rocks on his way. That is when he hears the sound that seems to be heaven sent. A light shines down on him from the coast.
“Last ferry for the night sir.”
It’s the High Octane Wrestling production team. The same team in which Dick just shit and came all over their trucks in protest.
“Yea, hold up!”
Fury speeds up, heading to the dock. He is going to make it after all. Tomorrow he flies to Canada. Monday he takes the championship. Tonight though, Dick will try to hide the guilt of defiling Lee’s fleet. Dick steps up onto the boat.
“We couldn’t find you to tell you that we were heading back to stay in a hotel tonight. Where were you?”
Not wanting to admit his guilt, Dick said the first thing that came to his mind.
“Jacking off and shitting in your truck.”
Silence. Maybe Dick isn’t very good at this hiding guilt shit. For the rest of the ride back to the mainland Fury stays to himself thinking of only one thing… The Canadian X Heavyweight championship and where it will fit on his mantle. Of course, the High Octane production crew sits and wonders to themselves if this guy was joking or not.
It was going to be a long boat ride.
Alcatraz Island – San Francisco, CA at 5:56pm
Dick stares at the sign with curiosity. Defaced with an anarchy sign, the entrance to Alcatraz Island now reads “Scottywood’s Personal Recreation Area.” Fury shakes his head. After his recent sabbatical this was his lasts top before heading back to shitty ass Canada.
Fury takes a step forward but has to almost leap out of the way as a black van with no windows races past him from the direction of the ferry dock toward the building. Dick uses both middle fingers making a motion under his chin toward the fan that screeches to a halt in front of the entrance.
Fury squints to try and see what is happening. Two men get out of the front of the van wearing what appear to be High Octane Wrestling jackets. They open the side door of the van and pull out a large man in a jump suit with a hood over his head and handcuffs around his wrist. As the men drag the hooded man toward the building all Dick Fury can make out is something about the man wanting to finish his steak.
Fury continues forward but is stopped.
“Sorry, you can’t go any further.”
Dick looks over, another douchebag wearing a HOW jacket and sunglasses. Dick can’t figure out the sunglasses, its not bright.
“Why the fuck not?”
The man points over at a High Octane Wrestling production truck that has a “Rumble at the Rock” promo painted on.
“Dick doesn’t give a fuck about some Rumble at the Rock. This is Dick’s last stop before going back to Canada.”
The man shrugs at Dick.
“Look man, you have a problem talk to Lee Best. He has rented the whole place out for the next two weeks.”
Dick squints at the man.
“Lee Best…”
Dick had met Lee Best only one time, when his cousin Matt was in the Best Alliance with Lee. It was a party to celebrate one of the Best Alliance’s accomplishments, something that happened often and Dick was in town. Dick liked Lee and they got along great. But renting out the entire Island of Alcatraz just when Dick is trying to avoid thinking about his next few days, is just bullshit.
“Where is Lee?”
“I’m sorry sir, he is not currently on site.”
Dick stares at him.
“So, you’re telling Dick e can’t get in and the one guy who could get him in, isn’t here?”
The man shakes his head.
“No sir, what I’m telling you is if you’re not in High Octane Wrestling you can promptly fuck off.”
With that, the man turns and heads away from Dick Fury who stands amazed at what had just occurred. Suddenly a loud alarm begins to blare through the speakers. A voice begins over the intercom.
“It is now 6pm. Lockdown is in effect.”
Dick looks at the gate closing and scoffs.
“Bullshit.”
Dick is shit out of luck on visiting Alcatraz; the Rumble at the Rock lockdown has begun. Inside right now every member of High Octane Wrestling is locked away for a week with no outside contact while Dick Fury is stuck on the outskirts having to leave for Canada in the morning to face Pat Gordon Jr. for the second time and walk away as the rightful Canadian X Heavyweight Champion.
He looks around, realizing there is no one else other than a few production members sitting by the vans smoking cigarettes and talking about the cocaine they did with the wrestlers the night before off of hooker’s tits. Dick looks back at the Ferry dock where there is strangely no activity.
“Fuck.”
Dick heads over toward the production trucks.
“Hey, I told you man, you have to fucking go!”
Dick stops and stares at the moron Best hired to set up for one of the largest HOW pay-per-views of the year. He looks back at the docks and then back at the guys.
“Don’t know if you noticed or not, but you shut down the fucking island you fucking shithole. How the fuck is Dick supposed to get back?”
Dick throws his arms up, astonished at their ignorance. The workers look at each other then at Dick.
“Ummm…”
Dick’s eyes bulge out of his head.
“What? You have a fat cock in your mouth? What is Dick to do?!”
Both men shrug as Dick runs his hands through his hair with frustration.
“You.. you.. you.. fucking.. FUCKS! When Dick talks to Lee, Dick guarantees you will regret this!”
The man who originally told Dick to leave throws his hand up.
“First off, I don’t know who you think you are, but I can guarantee Lee wont give two shits if some hippy fuck who talks in third person is stuck without a boat ride home. Secondly, why the fuck do you talk in third person? Fucking weirdo.”
Dick is simply astonished. The look upon his face can only be described as divaish.
“How dare you speak to Dick Fury that way you peon.”
They look at each other again.
“Dick Fury? I mean, sounds sort of familiar but..”
Dick cuts them off.
“Former Best Alliance member Matt Fury’s cousin.”
They stop and begin laughing. Dick is even more confused.
“So, because you are the cousin of a guy who was in the Best Alliance for, what… a month or two, we should be concerned about you? Fuck off man.”
With that they turn and begin walking away from Dick who stands, filling with rage. He just can’t believe what is going on. In less than twenty-four hours he is supposed to be on a plane so that Monday night he can beat Pat Gorgon JR for the second time.
But now, he is unsure of when the next ferry will come. Will he be stuck here for two weeks? Dick’s mind goes crazy with uncertainties and questions. It’s his time to shine, his time to go home with the gold but instead he is stuck on an island and not even able to interact with those also on the island.
Fury looks up at the building, knowing somewhere in there Mike Best is plotting Scottywood’s demise. Somewhere in there, Scott Stevens is plotting the rape of Kirsta Lewis. Somewhere in that building, somebody has a sammich.
Dick Fury is fucking hungry.
Saturday, Saturday 12th 2013
Alcatraz Island – San Francisco, CA at 9:20pm
Dick opens the production truck door and steps out. He takes the napkins he found in the glove compartment and wipes his ass before pulling his pants up. He throws the napkins in the truck and shuts the door.
“That will show those cocky fucks you don’t disrespect Dick.”
Fury sighs and looks around. He begins to head toward the ferry dock kicking a few rocks on his way. That is when he hears the sound that seems to be heaven sent. A light shines down on him from the coast.
“Last ferry for the night sir.”
It’s the High Octane Wrestling production team. The same team in which Dick just shit and came all over their trucks in protest.
“Yea, hold up!”
Fury speeds up, heading to the dock. He is going to make it after all. Tomorrow he flies to Canada. Monday he takes the championship. Tonight though, Dick will try to hide the guilt of defiling Lee’s fleet. Dick steps up onto the boat.
“We couldn’t find you to tell you that we were heading back to stay in a hotel tonight. Where were you?”
Not wanting to admit his guilt, Dick said the first thing that came to his mind.
“Jacking off and shitting in your truck.”
Silence. Maybe Dick isn’t very good at this hiding guilt shit. For the rest of the ride back to the mainland Fury stays to himself thinking of only one thing… The Canadian X Heavyweight championship and where it will fit on his mantle. Of course, the High Octane production crew sits and wonders to themselves if this guy was joking or not.
It was going to be a long boat ride.
