Post by Icon Lord Jon Kellar on Jun 20, 2015 16:26:32 GMT -6
Trouble Trax's resident recovering alcoholic stared over at the tiny old fashioned TV on the wall. From it, the deep yet squeaky voice of Michael McIntyre beamed out; grating against his ears.
TV: Have you noticed how funny this every day situation is...
Sean O'Riley: Oh shut up you insufferably happy little shite...
There was a knock at the door. Sean looked at his watch.
Sean: Finally!
He rose and walked over to the door, opening it to see a familiar face staring back at him
Sean: What time do you call this?
Icon Lord Jon Kellar: Enough... I've got a splitting headache. Don't add to it.
The former 3 (or 4) time World Heavyweight Champion pushed passed his former tag team partner, coming in out of the pouring British summer weather. He pushed back his hood. Sean winced.
Sean: You're not kidding...
Above Kellar's right eye was a deep gash, surrounded with the deep crimson stains of dried. Kellar frowned, causing a little more to pour out.
Kellar: You going to stare or are you going to help?
Sean: I've heard of these new fangled things called hospitals...
Kellar: They ask a lot of questions there...
Sean: Fine, where's the kit?
Kellar: Errr... kitchen, left hand cupboard, second shelf.
Sean headed for the kitchen
Kellar: And bring the absinthe.
Sean: There's still some vodka in the fridge.
Kellar: This is going to need absinthe... trust me.
As Sean disappeared to ransack the cupboards, Kellar stole his seat, dropping his bag as he did so. He reached in and pulled out a chemical pack, breaking it in half over his knee to release the "cold", then holding it over his eye.
He looked around, surveying the state the Macheda Dojo had fallen into. The ring was covered in dust, stuffing leaked from the heavy bag, and water dripped from the ceiling into a collection of spit buckets.
He lowered the ice pack and stared at it. It was blood stained; he'd opened the gash up again.
Kellar: I'll kill that bastard....
Sean reappeared, first aid kit and alcohol in hand. With a sigh, he located another chair and pulled it up opposite his long term friend. He reached out with an antiseptic wipe, and wiped above Kellar's eye. Kellar winced.
Sean: Keep still y'big pansy...
Sean wiped away the dried blood, and did his best to clean the wound itself, but it was still bleeding.
Sean: This is one hell of a gash Jon boy... I hope this was worth it...
Kellar reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of notes bound with an elastic band, dumping it on a nearby table. Sean reached over his spare hand and flicked through it.
Sean: Erm...
Sean felt the wait, tossing the pile up and down.
Sean: £500... if that.
Kellar: £470 after expenses.
Sean: That's not much of a winner's packet...
Sean looked over at Kellar, who rolled his eyes sadly. Sean sighed.
Sean: It's not a winner's packet is it....
Kellar: No...
Sean: Jon...
Kellar: I need the money Sean. We... need the money.
Sean: Jon, you can't keep doing this. You work security at the court, then you're on the doors three days a week... you can't keep doing these underground fights on top of that... you're not superhuman.
Kellar: They cut my hours at the court again...
Sean: What? When?
Kellar: Starting Monday...
Sean: Jesus...
Kellar: Yes, I know, it's tragic, it's bloody tragic, now would you please stitch my god damn eye...
Sean: Fine...
Sean reached into the kit and pulled out a needle, rinsing it in the absinthe, then handing the bottle to his friend. Kellar took a big swig, followed by a deep breath.
Kellar: Go.
Sean slid in the needle.
Kellar: ARGH! Esssssssssshhhhhh.
Sean: You know... if money's tight...
Kellar: I don't need charity...
Sean: Good, because I wasn't offering it. But I've heard about a job going... better pay, same punching...
Kellar: Where?
Sean: GroundZero Wrestling 2k1
Kellar slapped Sean's hand away and stood up.
Sean: I'm not done.
Kellar: Why do you keep bringing this up? I can't go back on the road again...
Sean: Fine... Fine... I won't mention it again.
Kellar sat down again, and Sean resumed his work. A few stitches in, he paused.
Sean: I'm just saying... you know they'd have you back. I mean, no one's going to begrudge you leaving when you did... what with everything...
Kellar: I can't do it Sean... you know I can't.
Sean: You don't want to explain to everyone where the money went...
Kellar: I don't want to go back on the road with a three year old...
Sean: There are ways to make things work Jon...
Kellar: I'm making things work perfectly well thank you...
Sean: I'm stitching your eye back together and you're sleeping in a gym...
Kellar: Its a dojo.
Sean: A dojo has students... the only person who's come through that door bar you and me is the gas man.
Kellar: It's a dojaaargh!
Sean pulled the last thread through, then snapped the thread off, tying it properly.
Sean: All done... now...
Sean stood up and pointed to the bottle.
Sean: I suggest you have a few more mouthfuls of that... it'll help you sleep.
Kellar: Why bother... I've got to be up in a few hours for work...
Sean: Jon...
Kellar: I'm fine thanks Doctor O'Riley. I can look after myself...
Sean: Fine. Goodnight Jon.
Sean headed for a nearby set of stairs and started to climb. He paused half way up and looked down at Jon, who was staring longingly at the absinthe.
Sean: Jon... I know you're trying to prove yourself, holding down three jobs, keeping the dojo open, being Superdad, and generally doing your superman thing but... you know...
Sean sighed.
Sean: Dyna wouldn't want this....
Kellar sighed back, taking a swig from the bottle.
Kellar: Well... she's not here...
TV: Have you noticed how funny this every day situation is...
Sean O'Riley: Oh shut up you insufferably happy little shite...
There was a knock at the door. Sean looked at his watch.
Sean: Finally!
He rose and walked over to the door, opening it to see a familiar face staring back at him
Sean: What time do you call this?
Icon Lord Jon Kellar: Enough... I've got a splitting headache. Don't add to it.
The former 3 (or 4) time World Heavyweight Champion pushed passed his former tag team partner, coming in out of the pouring British summer weather. He pushed back his hood. Sean winced.
Sean: You're not kidding...
Above Kellar's right eye was a deep gash, surrounded with the deep crimson stains of dried. Kellar frowned, causing a little more to pour out.
Kellar: You going to stare or are you going to help?
Sean: I've heard of these new fangled things called hospitals...
Kellar: They ask a lot of questions there...
Sean: Fine, where's the kit?
Kellar: Errr... kitchen, left hand cupboard, second shelf.
Sean headed for the kitchen
Kellar: And bring the absinthe.
Sean: There's still some vodka in the fridge.
Kellar: This is going to need absinthe... trust me.
As Sean disappeared to ransack the cupboards, Kellar stole his seat, dropping his bag as he did so. He reached in and pulled out a chemical pack, breaking it in half over his knee to release the "cold", then holding it over his eye.
He looked around, surveying the state the Macheda Dojo had fallen into. The ring was covered in dust, stuffing leaked from the heavy bag, and water dripped from the ceiling into a collection of spit buckets.
He lowered the ice pack and stared at it. It was blood stained; he'd opened the gash up again.
Kellar: I'll kill that bastard....
Sean reappeared, first aid kit and alcohol in hand. With a sigh, he located another chair and pulled it up opposite his long term friend. He reached out with an antiseptic wipe, and wiped above Kellar's eye. Kellar winced.
Sean: Keep still y'big pansy...
Sean wiped away the dried blood, and did his best to clean the wound itself, but it was still bleeding.
Sean: This is one hell of a gash Jon boy... I hope this was worth it...
Kellar reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of notes bound with an elastic band, dumping it on a nearby table. Sean reached over his spare hand and flicked through it.
Sean: Erm...
Sean felt the wait, tossing the pile up and down.
Sean: £500... if that.
Kellar: £470 after expenses.
Sean: That's not much of a winner's packet...
Sean looked over at Kellar, who rolled his eyes sadly. Sean sighed.
Sean: It's not a winner's packet is it....
Kellar: No...
Sean: Jon...
Kellar: I need the money Sean. We... need the money.
Sean: Jon, you can't keep doing this. You work security at the court, then you're on the doors three days a week... you can't keep doing these underground fights on top of that... you're not superhuman.
Kellar: They cut my hours at the court again...
Sean: What? When?
Kellar: Starting Monday...
Sean: Jesus...
Kellar: Yes, I know, it's tragic, it's bloody tragic, now would you please stitch my god damn eye...
Sean: Fine...
Sean reached into the kit and pulled out a needle, rinsing it in the absinthe, then handing the bottle to his friend. Kellar took a big swig, followed by a deep breath.
Kellar: Go.
Sean slid in the needle.
Kellar: ARGH! Esssssssssshhhhhh.
Sean: You know... if money's tight...
Kellar: I don't need charity...
Sean: Good, because I wasn't offering it. But I've heard about a job going... better pay, same punching...
Kellar: Where?
Sean: GroundZero Wrestling 2k1
Kellar slapped Sean's hand away and stood up.
Sean: I'm not done.
Kellar: Why do you keep bringing this up? I can't go back on the road again...
Sean: Fine... Fine... I won't mention it again.
Kellar sat down again, and Sean resumed his work. A few stitches in, he paused.
Sean: I'm just saying... you know they'd have you back. I mean, no one's going to begrudge you leaving when you did... what with everything...
Kellar: I can't do it Sean... you know I can't.
Sean: You don't want to explain to everyone where the money went...
Kellar: I don't want to go back on the road with a three year old...
Sean: There are ways to make things work Jon...
Kellar: I'm making things work perfectly well thank you...
Sean: I'm stitching your eye back together and you're sleeping in a gym...
Kellar: Its a dojo.
Sean: A dojo has students... the only person who's come through that door bar you and me is the gas man.
Kellar: It's a dojaaargh!
Sean pulled the last thread through, then snapped the thread off, tying it properly.
Sean: All done... now...
Sean stood up and pointed to the bottle.
Sean: I suggest you have a few more mouthfuls of that... it'll help you sleep.
Kellar: Why bother... I've got to be up in a few hours for work...
Sean: Jon...
Kellar: I'm fine thanks Doctor O'Riley. I can look after myself...
Sean: Fine. Goodnight Jon.
Sean headed for a nearby set of stairs and started to climb. He paused half way up and looked down at Jon, who was staring longingly at the absinthe.
Sean: Jon... I know you're trying to prove yourself, holding down three jobs, keeping the dojo open, being Superdad, and generally doing your superman thing but... you know...
Sean sighed.
Sean: Dyna wouldn't want this....
Kellar sighed back, taking a swig from the bottle.
Kellar: Well... she's not here...
