Post by Mike Musket on Sept 10, 2018 8:09:57 GMT -5
Mike sits on a log in the middle of dense forest atop good ole Fuji Mountain. His trusty companion, Crazy Dog, sniffs around at the trees. Also, his best Japanese friend Sagara Fusanosuke a/k/a Bootsy Mitchell swipes right on Tinder at basically every photograph he sees.
Mike stands up and stretches his legs.
“C’mon fellas, time to get this show on the road.”
Bootsy frowns and protests.
“But Mike-san, this is the only spot in this area I get the internet.”
Mike grabs Bootsy’s phone and chucks it through the forest. It hits the ground several times like a stone skipping across water until it fades into the distance.
“I don’t understand why you need some whore finding device if you ain’t gonna act like a man. Men go out there and take care of business. Like my new pal Jun Vegas. Me and him just finished up a good training session down there in the holler and let me tell ya, he’s got hoss written all over him. All them boys are gonna be quakin’ in their boots when we step down to the ring, best you believe.”
Mike takes out a hatchet and throws it into a tree. He laughs a hearty laugh.
“See here now, Bootsy, let me give ya a lil preview of how Big Ole Country gets back on track. First here we got all this action goin on with them fellas from Lion’s Road comin over. I know they ain’t no tenderfoots to this Japan country, but you don’t just show up at a man’s doorstep with yer grappling fingers and don’t expect to get flattened on yer ass! Yes sir, I’m gonna show them good.”
Mike walks over and takes the hatchet out of the tree. He holds it in his hand. Crazy Dog walks over and barks.
“That’s right, Crazy Dog. See, I got me a mano-e-mano faceoff with that Mister David Troy. They say he’s some superfoot kinda champion, but that just sounds like happy dancing ballerina talk to me. See, I scored me a win on my good buddy Zenki last tour, and he’s a damn fine champion. But this Troy fella, well he’s the hoss’ hoss over there in Lion’s Road. So, here I go, ready to bring the muscle to the tussle when I get in the ring with that sumbitch!”
Crazy Dog barks triumphantly.
Mike spins around and throws the hatchet at another tree. The hatchet gets stuck real good and quivers a bit from the impact. He puts an arm around Bootsy as they walk to go recover it.
“And then later on down the line bout a month from now, seems me and my good hermano Jun Vegas got us a title shot. Now, who knows if it’ll be Zenki’s playmates or that God blessed marine Alexander Irvine and his buddy. But my pal June Bug got the strength of a Mongolian ox if ya ever heard of one. I know I have, big sumbitch that can’t be snared. Nope, no thank ya. And me? Well you know me, Bootsy. I bring that country rasslin flavor to the business that ain’t nobody can top. I got more hooks than a grown-up tacklebox! And lately here I been workin’ on my escapin’ skills, oh yessir. See, I know sometimes I can get ahead of myself, but in this game you gotta be a wily sumbitch sometimes. Ya gotta know when to get a man tricked down and say, ‘goddamn I ain’t there no more!’ and then stretch em out real good for the tapout victory! Yessir, it’s gonna be a damn good tour!”
He wrenches the hatchet out of the tree.
“Now c’mon, Bootsy! Let’s go punch a wild elk in the face!”
Mike goes dashing off into the forest and disappears out of sight while Bootsy and Crazy Dog follow after him.
Mike stands up and stretches his legs.
“C’mon fellas, time to get this show on the road.”
Bootsy frowns and protests.
“But Mike-san, this is the only spot in this area I get the internet.”
Mike grabs Bootsy’s phone and chucks it through the forest. It hits the ground several times like a stone skipping across water until it fades into the distance.
“I don’t understand why you need some whore finding device if you ain’t gonna act like a man. Men go out there and take care of business. Like my new pal Jun Vegas. Me and him just finished up a good training session down there in the holler and let me tell ya, he’s got hoss written all over him. All them boys are gonna be quakin’ in their boots when we step down to the ring, best you believe.”
Mike takes out a hatchet and throws it into a tree. He laughs a hearty laugh.
“See here now, Bootsy, let me give ya a lil preview of how Big Ole Country gets back on track. First here we got all this action goin on with them fellas from Lion’s Road comin over. I know they ain’t no tenderfoots to this Japan country, but you don’t just show up at a man’s doorstep with yer grappling fingers and don’t expect to get flattened on yer ass! Yes sir, I’m gonna show them good.”
Mike walks over and takes the hatchet out of the tree. He holds it in his hand. Crazy Dog walks over and barks.
“That’s right, Crazy Dog. See, I got me a mano-e-mano faceoff with that Mister David Troy. They say he’s some superfoot kinda champion, but that just sounds like happy dancing ballerina talk to me. See, I scored me a win on my good buddy Zenki last tour, and he’s a damn fine champion. But this Troy fella, well he’s the hoss’ hoss over there in Lion’s Road. So, here I go, ready to bring the muscle to the tussle when I get in the ring with that sumbitch!”
Crazy Dog barks triumphantly.
Mike spins around and throws the hatchet at another tree. The hatchet gets stuck real good and quivers a bit from the impact. He puts an arm around Bootsy as they walk to go recover it.
“And then later on down the line bout a month from now, seems me and my good hermano Jun Vegas got us a title shot. Now, who knows if it’ll be Zenki’s playmates or that God blessed marine Alexander Irvine and his buddy. But my pal June Bug got the strength of a Mongolian ox if ya ever heard of one. I know I have, big sumbitch that can’t be snared. Nope, no thank ya. And me? Well you know me, Bootsy. I bring that country rasslin flavor to the business that ain’t nobody can top. I got more hooks than a grown-up tacklebox! And lately here I been workin’ on my escapin’ skills, oh yessir. See, I know sometimes I can get ahead of myself, but in this game you gotta be a wily sumbitch sometimes. Ya gotta know when to get a man tricked down and say, ‘goddamn I ain’t there no more!’ and then stretch em out real good for the tapout victory! Yessir, it’s gonna be a damn good tour!”
He wrenches the hatchet out of the tree.
“Now c’mon, Bootsy! Let’s go punch a wild elk in the face!”
Mike goes dashing off into the forest and disappears out of sight while Bootsy and Crazy Dog follow after him.