Post by Tim E. Vortex on Aug 3, 2011 18:43:02 GMT
(OOC: This is one for the older guys.)
”Are you pregnant?”
Ever since I incidentally located a positive pregnancy test, the thought of how to question my loyal companion had often crossed my mind. Subtlety is not a forte of mine, and I suppose my lexis was a little direct. Myself and Michelle were sat in a familiar bar, affectionately named ‘The Last Call Inn’. It was a vivacious scene at the heart of FWF’s finest hour. The year was 2006 and many legendary faces were scattered around the oak scenery. At a glance, Pain was swarmed by a group of young men, listening intently to his tales of success. Former commentators Tom Briggs and Johnny Legend were sharing a pint together as Dan “Dragon” Taylor swapped match psychology with The Predator. Such fun; however, Michelle was ignoring my question.
“Whiskey.”
She demanded. The bartender was an elderly gentleman by the name of Tom Monohan, an admiral fellow who appeared to adopt the ‘live and let live’ outlook. However, his frail appearance was misleading, and whilst he was the stereotypical jovial Irishman, he could definitely handle himself. Tom placed two exceptionally clean glasses on the smooth counter and poured out two drinks from a Jack Daniels bottle. He began to serve another customer.
“Leave the bottle.”
The man complied, placing it beside her. She immediately picked up the glass and chugged the full thing before proceeding to pour another beverage. I picked up my own and began to swirl it in contemplation.
“It’s just, if you are as evidence would suggest, maybe we’re not in the most appropriate of venues.”
I must have said “I’m going to violate your dead grandmother” judging by the glare that followed.
“I’m Scottish... which means... the baby that I may or may not be having will be Scottish too. If anything, I’m just preparing the little bugger.”
“I’m sure that...”
“Look. I don’t see any mini pretentious Victorian alien babies running around, so I’m not going to be taking any lectures from you. Let me deal with being a mother on my own terms.”
“She barked at me. Ever the coward, I backed down and took a swig of my scotch. It was then that I heard a deep, British voice looming over me.”
“Pint o’ smooth when you’re ready, Tom.”
The old man went about his duty. I threw my eyes to the side to see the legendary DDT King stood in all his glory. I’d never had the pleasure up until this point and it wasn’t an opportunity I was going to waste. I immediately extended my hand.
“Timothy Edward Vortex.”
I introduced myself. Dan turned to face me and removed his red, tinted sunglasses, privately screening the fire-consumed, dark eyes that I’ve heard so much about. Thankfully, he accepted my hand, shaking it with a firm grip.
“Dan Taylor.”
“I know.”
“I take it you’re a wrestling fan then?”
“I’m actually a member of your elite group of Warriors.”
I explained, causing a tiresome look from Michelle, who had still not grown accustomed to my somewhat flowery language.
“It means he’s a wrestler too!”
She bellowed, spinning on her heel. She then comes to a halt upon contact with Dan’s chiselled face and smiles, eagerly.
“And I’m Michelle. That’s... Michelle Belle...”
She flopped out her hand, inviting the former World Heavyweight Champion to kiss it. Before he had the chance, I snatched Michelle and pulled her in towards me.
“Come now, my dear. You know his obsession with red-headed Scots and I urge you not to take advantage of that considering the condition you and I know he’s in.”
I whispered. I released her and she scowled. Moments later, Tom returned with Dan’s drink, handing it over in exchange for coinage. Dan nodded softly and took a sip before replacing it on the bar. He was a perfect gentleman, taking the time out to trade casual banter with two strangers.
“So, you’re a wrestler, eh? Got a match coming up?”
“Indeed I have, good sir. Dagger Dave is the name of my opponent, who has so far been impressive.”
“Never heard of him. Is he from UCW?”
“The name would suggest so, yet he is not, although, he does hold a few victories over some UCW Gladiators.”
“Well, when’s the show? Maybe I could come down. I’ve been losing my touch with other promotions.”
Michelle began to laugh hysterically.
“It’s... erm... quite a while off.”
“Ah, okay. Well, you stick at it and you’ll be in my position in no time. It’s nice when you get to the point that everyone wants to take a shot at you.”
Michelle laughs again, clearly remembering my encounter on last week’s edition of Live-Wire in which some unknown man quite literally took a shot at me. Dan looked down, noticing the small bump in Michelle’s stomach.
“So... you’re expecting?”
“Aye.”
“Scared?”
“Terrified. So how was it for you, y’know... when you first realised you were a father?”
“What?”
I glared at Michelle, who often needed to be reminded that we were five years behind her present time.
“Well, actually, my fiancée, Christine has just told me she’s pregnant. I think one of the most important times in any person’s life is when they realise they’re going to be a parent. Y’know... it’s like a little version of you. I can’t wait.”
Michelle nods along, smiling. I seemingly lack the personal touch she sought, but I was relieved she had come to terms with motherhood.
“Anyway, I must get back. It was nice meeting you.”
I stood up from my stool.
“Sir, it was an honour.”
Dan nodded before making his exit. Michelle looked at me, chuckling under her breath.
“What?”
“Sir, it was an honour.”
She mocked.
“It’s bad enough it looks like you come from a very poor Austin Powers convention, but you could at least try talking like a normal person.”
I chose not to dignify that with a response. Instead, I continued to drink from my glass, whilst avoiding revealing myself to anyone that may recognise me in the future.
“So... where now?”
“Back to 2011. So far Dagger Dave has beaten two legends and a newbie, but he needs to be aware... I’m old and new; I’m the Lost Hero. And it’s time people knew my name.”
”Are you pregnant?”
Ever since I incidentally located a positive pregnancy test, the thought of how to question my loyal companion had often crossed my mind. Subtlety is not a forte of mine, and I suppose my lexis was a little direct. Myself and Michelle were sat in a familiar bar, affectionately named ‘The Last Call Inn’. It was a vivacious scene at the heart of FWF’s finest hour. The year was 2006 and many legendary faces were scattered around the oak scenery. At a glance, Pain was swarmed by a group of young men, listening intently to his tales of success. Former commentators Tom Briggs and Johnny Legend were sharing a pint together as Dan “Dragon” Taylor swapped match psychology with The Predator. Such fun; however, Michelle was ignoring my question.
“Whiskey.”
She demanded. The bartender was an elderly gentleman by the name of Tom Monohan, an admiral fellow who appeared to adopt the ‘live and let live’ outlook. However, his frail appearance was misleading, and whilst he was the stereotypical jovial Irishman, he could definitely handle himself. Tom placed two exceptionally clean glasses on the smooth counter and poured out two drinks from a Jack Daniels bottle. He began to serve another customer.
“Leave the bottle.”
The man complied, placing it beside her. She immediately picked up the glass and chugged the full thing before proceeding to pour another beverage. I picked up my own and began to swirl it in contemplation.
“It’s just, if you are as evidence would suggest, maybe we’re not in the most appropriate of venues.”
I must have said “I’m going to violate your dead grandmother” judging by the glare that followed.
“I’m Scottish... which means... the baby that I may or may not be having will be Scottish too. If anything, I’m just preparing the little bugger.”
“I’m sure that...”
“Look. I don’t see any mini pretentious Victorian alien babies running around, so I’m not going to be taking any lectures from you. Let me deal with being a mother on my own terms.”
“She barked at me. Ever the coward, I backed down and took a swig of my scotch. It was then that I heard a deep, British voice looming over me.”
“Pint o’ smooth when you’re ready, Tom.”
The old man went about his duty. I threw my eyes to the side to see the legendary DDT King stood in all his glory. I’d never had the pleasure up until this point and it wasn’t an opportunity I was going to waste. I immediately extended my hand.
“Timothy Edward Vortex.”
I introduced myself. Dan turned to face me and removed his red, tinted sunglasses, privately screening the fire-consumed, dark eyes that I’ve heard so much about. Thankfully, he accepted my hand, shaking it with a firm grip.
“Dan Taylor.”
“I know.”
“I take it you’re a wrestling fan then?”
“I’m actually a member of your elite group of Warriors.”
I explained, causing a tiresome look from Michelle, who had still not grown accustomed to my somewhat flowery language.
“It means he’s a wrestler too!”
She bellowed, spinning on her heel. She then comes to a halt upon contact with Dan’s chiselled face and smiles, eagerly.
“And I’m Michelle. That’s... Michelle Belle...”
She flopped out her hand, inviting the former World Heavyweight Champion to kiss it. Before he had the chance, I snatched Michelle and pulled her in towards me.
“Come now, my dear. You know his obsession with red-headed Scots and I urge you not to take advantage of that considering the condition you and I know he’s in.”
I whispered. I released her and she scowled. Moments later, Tom returned with Dan’s drink, handing it over in exchange for coinage. Dan nodded softly and took a sip before replacing it on the bar. He was a perfect gentleman, taking the time out to trade casual banter with two strangers.
“So, you’re a wrestler, eh? Got a match coming up?”
“Indeed I have, good sir. Dagger Dave is the name of my opponent, who has so far been impressive.”
“Never heard of him. Is he from UCW?”
“The name would suggest so, yet he is not, although, he does hold a few victories over some UCW Gladiators.”
“Well, when’s the show? Maybe I could come down. I’ve been losing my touch with other promotions.”
Michelle began to laugh hysterically.
“It’s... erm... quite a while off.”
“Ah, okay. Well, you stick at it and you’ll be in my position in no time. It’s nice when you get to the point that everyone wants to take a shot at you.”
Michelle laughs again, clearly remembering my encounter on last week’s edition of Live-Wire in which some unknown man quite literally took a shot at me. Dan looked down, noticing the small bump in Michelle’s stomach.
“So... you’re expecting?”
“Aye.”
“Scared?”
“Terrified. So how was it for you, y’know... when you first realised you were a father?”
“What?”
I glared at Michelle, who often needed to be reminded that we were five years behind her present time.
“Well, actually, my fiancée, Christine has just told me she’s pregnant. I think one of the most important times in any person’s life is when they realise they’re going to be a parent. Y’know... it’s like a little version of you. I can’t wait.”
Michelle nods along, smiling. I seemingly lack the personal touch she sought, but I was relieved she had come to terms with motherhood.
“Anyway, I must get back. It was nice meeting you.”
I stood up from my stool.
“Sir, it was an honour.”
Dan nodded before making his exit. Michelle looked at me, chuckling under her breath.
“What?”
“Sir, it was an honour.”
She mocked.
“It’s bad enough it looks like you come from a very poor Austin Powers convention, but you could at least try talking like a normal person.”
I chose not to dignify that with a response. Instead, I continued to drink from my glass, whilst avoiding revealing myself to anyone that may recognise me in the future.
“So... where now?”
“Back to 2011. So far Dagger Dave has beaten two legends and a newbie, but he needs to be aware... I’m old and new; I’m the Lost Hero. And it’s time people knew my name.”