A Drink Too Many [O2A]

[Adrian Taylor]

"...All of the locker rooms smell vaguely of vomit. I don't know what it is. Maybe people are getting some pre-match jitters and spew all over the floor. Maybe it's guys who go out partying the night before the show and purge before they have to hit the ring. I don't fuckin' know. What I do know is that I've been at this shit for way too long. Way too long. And for what? Big jets? Bigger checks? Shit. These Goddamn suits don't ever treat their top stars right. Or the ones who should be their top stars, anyways. That's why I've decided to live by my own set of rules. You know? When you die, you're going to regret the things you don't do. So... Do what you want, that's what I think. Live with the consequences. You're a thief? So what? Be a thief. Cheated on your wife? You did it. Live with it. You know what I'm saying...? Bad people go to Hell? Fuck that. Hell exists on Earth? Probably. I won't fuckin' live in it though. Fuck that. I do what I want, when I want, how I want... You ever just do what the Hell you want and say, 'To Hell with the consequences?'"

Bartender: "Did I...?"

"Yes. You. Who do you think I'm talking to...?"

Bartender: "I don't know..."

~...Adrian drew a deep breath and exhales a heavy sigh. He was sitting at the bar within the Lucky Starz Casino, talking with the bartender. He wasn't thinking all that clearly. He wasn't really thinking at all. He was just talking to whoever was going to listen. The closest person him was the bartender, so he figured he might as well talk to them. They were supplying the alcohol. The least the bastard could do was listen to Adrian. Maybe he's had one too many drinks here tonight. Maybe he's just rambling on whatever comes to mind. He didn't really care. He stayed out of the public eye for the past couple weeks. Sure. Two weeks ago, he did that tag team match with Joe against the two champions. Beyond that? Eh... He did his best to avoid interviews and shit like that. He didn't even bother showing up to the Wildcard Arena last week. Adrian took a personal week off. He didn't know what he'd do for the upcoming week. He knew there was probably going to be some shit going on with Joe and the World Champion. Maybe he'll swing by the arena and see what happens. Right now though? He was just drinking at the bar. Adrian raised his half empty glass of Hennessy and downed whatever was left inside. Then he pushed the glass forward to the bartender and nodded to him for another refill.~

"Forget about it. Shit don't matter none. Even if you did, what would it matter? What's left in life when you've lived all there is to live? Memories? Just a string of images that stay stuck in your mind, for better or for worse. Don't matter. You know? Like any of the great fucks you've had in your life? What do you remember about them?"

Bartender: "What do I--?"

"Yes, pal. You heard me."

Bartender: "Uhh..."

"For fucks sake, man. I don't know about you... But me? It ain't shit like the orgasm. Things like... Some chick's forearms are you neck, something her eyes did... A sound she made.. Or me just lying there in the bed, the next day, and she brings me a cigarette and a coffee in the morning. My body might feel drained. My balls feel like they've had a sledgehammer taken to 'em. You know? What I'm trying to say is... What is life? What is this thing we call our life? Looking back? Looking forward? That's life. That's all there is to it."

Bartender: "Mmm."

~Probably against the bartender's better judgement, he slides the glass back to Adrian. Now full of Hennessy once again. Adrian gives the bartender another nod before reaching for the glass. He lifts it up to his lips and takes a drink from it. Gah. He loved this shit. Great fuckin' drink. Just fuckin' great. He looked back up at the bartender again and continued to ramble...~


"Where is the moment, friendo? What is it that we are afraid of?"

Bartender: "Umm... Loss?"

"Loss? Heh. We're afraid of loss? Banks closing, we get sick, your wife dies on a plane, stock market crashes, houses burn... Do these things happen? Nah. Not often. Not often enough to be afraid. But look at us... We worry anyways. What does that mean? We're not secure? Shit. How do you become secure? Friends? Family? Accumulating mass wealth beyond all measure? That there is what I call a sickness. That's the trap. There is no measure. Just greed. Lots of fuckin' greed. You always want what the other guys have. It's sad. You want to know how you deal with these fears? Think of it like this... There's a one-in-so-and-so-a-million chance that so and so will happen... Fuck it. Won't happen to me. You know? You think that's the wrong way to think about it? Fuck you. What? You say... There is a one-in-so-and-so chance this will happen... God will protect me. Pfft. That's a coward's way of thinking. You think you're powerless. Please don't let it happen to me. Fuck that."

Bartender: "Well--"

"No. There's something else, isn't there? What is it? If it happens, as it may, for it's not within our powers, I will deal with it? Ha. Just as I do today with what draws my concern today. This is how people should think. Do the things to correct yourself today. Live in the moment. Cape diem or what the fuck ever. Trust yourself. Indulge yourself a little. You've got to have the strength to act each day without fear. According to my mind, wrestling, skills, popularity, star power... What are these things? An opportunity. To what? To make money? Perhaps. To lose money? Perhaps. Indulge and learn about yourself? Perhaps. So. Fucking. What? What in life isn't an opportunity? Shit. All events in life are just things that happen to you. Some poor sap that just got married gets mowed down by a speeding cab. Some drug addict wins the lottery. Life? It's a wild ride. One big fuckin' carnival. What's so special about it? What draws us?"

Bartender: "I don't know..."

"We're all different. None of us are the same. Some live life in one direction. Some live life in no direction. It's all just... Life. You know? Shit... Whatchu drinking, pal?"

Bartender: "Nothing. I don't drink while I'm on the job. And I think you've had a couple too many."

"Just a couple more."

Bartender: "You don't think you have a problem?"

"No. I don't. I don't have a problem with drinking. I like it. That's why I do it. I don't give a fuck what others think."

Bartender: "Alright, bub. Two more glasses and then you're done. Cool?"

"Yeah, yeah."

~Adrian just waved the bartender off. He didn't care what they thought. This was a bar, right? What do people do at a bar damnit? They drink. That's what bars are for. For people to come here, have a drink, relax, and forget about your problems. That's all he was doing. Adrian lifted the glass in his hand up and took another drink from it. Fuck 'em. He looked around the bar to see if there was anyone else here from the roster.~

[Angel Lust]

Vegas was where it was at. "It" could mean many things for Angel, but one thing was certain... she had a purpose here. She had seen a couple of SCW's shows on TV, and she had noticed two men in particular who she was very "FAMiliar" with. One of whom, was probably in his room smoking weed right now. Damn Asians, they smoked more weed than anyone. But then, there was the other man, and she figured he'd be in the bar most likely. She didn't know exactly when or anything, but seeing him, she just got lucky. Walking over to him, she puts her finger around his neck and whispers in his ear.

"Miiiiiister Taylor.... I've found you..."

[untouchables]

Rolari and Vinzenz enter the bar and each guy grabs a stool on both sides of Adrian..Rolari on the left while Vinzenz sat to his right

Rolari: Hey Adrian, Overheard your mention of the suits never treating their stars right.. We already have that tranny looking thing we have to call boss here at SCW trying to stick it up our asses..We get told to be at the arena and are not used..Now we get a match against two random thrown together guys, wtf is the WWE ..

Bartender walks over.. What'll it be gentleman?

Vinzenz: 2 bottles of Scotch, and leave the bottles.. Don't give me that look just get the damn bottles and put them on SCW's tab..They owe us at least this much for our troubles

As Adrian was watching the commotion between Vinzenz & the Bartender he turned himself back towards Rolari..

Rolari: Don't mind Ulrich he won't attack the innocents so you are safe of course until deemed otherwise.. I must say thou you got something brewing good with the Empire your building here to stick it to the management here in SCW.. Relax not here to apply for a spot, myself & Ulrich run our own path but if you ever need the extra hands if things get outta control for you we are available..For a fee, nothing to expensive don't fret we are not greedy men..

Bartender returns and checks to see if all 3 of them need anything else..

Rolari: Sure one more bottle of Scotch and whatever our new friend is drinking *Rolari reaches into his pocket to pay for Adrian's drink personally*

Both men turn to Vinzenz as he slammed his fist into the bartop..

Vinzenz: Still fuming that those two ingrates beat us and we called them out for another match but they are two scared to get into the ring again..They know this time it isn't gonna go down the same way when that bitch pulled a screwjob on us..*Vinzenz takes a swig from his bottle refusing to use a glass*

Rolari: Ulrich please not here, even thou this dive could uses a Vinzenz makeover to make it look better, rather not risk the lawsuits just yet.. We'll be going now unless you wish to speak before we do Mr. Taylor?

[Angel Lust]

Angel sighed, annoyed that these two inbred overgrown pieces of shit decided to make themselves known. Of course, she could never do this type of thing in peace. Looking at Inbread Mutant #1, then over to Mutant #2, she sighed again and smiled at Adrian, who still hadn't spoke yet. She got in close, and whispered in his ear low enough so that no one could hear it but him.

"You wanna... leave these two overgrown apes and go do what we should've done a long time ago?"

[Adrian Taylor]

~As if his life couldn't be any worse, he now finds himself in this predicament. He didn't mind the two guys who had sat on both sides of them. They didn't seem to want to throw down with him tonight. They actually shared his distaste for the wrestling business too. Whether they were interested in becoming a part of his Empire or not, that didn't seem to be the case. However, they did bring up an interesting proposition. Pay them to kick someone's ass for him? Sure. He had money to spare. As much as he liked getting his hands dirty, he couldn't be everywhere at once. That's what hired help was for. And Adrian certainly could throw a couple hundred dollar bills their way. He smirked at the thought of them smacking Kenji around. That'd be great. The little bastard wouldn't expect it. Or he could have them go punch Scott Manor in the mouth. Lord knows that guy has been running his mouth about Adrian recently. Why? He didn't know. He just knew that a person couldn't talk very much trash if they've got their jaws wired shut. Then... There was the migraine inducing fly buzzing in his ear. God's got one cruel sense of humor, if this is how he decides to spend his time. He thought he had left this little nuisance back in New York. It looks like he didn't run far enough. Well, there was only one way to deal with a situation like this.

Adrian nodded his head and reached into his jacket pocket. He gripped the ivory handle of the Beretta pistol that he brought with him to this bar tonight. He cocked the hammer back. Then he looked to the two big guys and gave them a nod. He lifted the pistol up to his temple. Then pulled the trigger....

*BANG*

...Wouldn't that be nice? Wouldn't that have been grand? Blow his brains out right here in the Lucky Starz Casino. The problem was... Adrian couldn't have been so lucky. No. He had left his gun back in his suite. And unfortunately, the visual of him ending his miserable life once and for all was simply all in his head. A daydreaming drunken stupor. It would be too easy to go out that way. No. He was still there in that damn bar. Two guys on either side of him. They actually bought him another drink. That certainly boosted his opinion of them by a couple points. And the fly was still buzzing in his ear. She wanted to whisk Adrian away to the bedroom and do God knows what to him up there. F.M.L.

He raised his glass up to his lips and took a quick drink from it before finally speaking up...~

"Nah, nah, nah. It's cool guys. Stay. Chat with me for awhile. Drink. Be merry. Hahahaha..."

~Adrian shrugged his shoulders and looked at one of them. Then at the other.~

"I can't say I blame you guys for getting angry about that match. I mean, that Goddamn VERSUS champion of ours hasn't said a word or done anything since winning that title. For all we know, he could be fuckin' our boss so he don't have to do anything but show up. Ya know? It ain't right. I mean, I show up pretty much every night. Almost. Sometimes I need a little R&R, but hey, at least I'm here. Ya know? People know I'm around. I think after busting my ass in this business for the past several years, I've earned a bye week or two."

~He paused for a moment to look back at the other guy.~

"What you guys ought to do is go find that burnt crispy crackley bastard and drag his ass back down to the Wildcard Arena. Beat his ass in front of everyone. Just for the Hell of it. You know? Don't even need a referee. Just smack the shit out of him. The same goes for that other bastard they threw in there with you. Whatshisface. I don't fuckin' know. Show that damn boss of ours you don't go fuckin' with your talent. We make the money around here. We should all be given big ass private jets. Give us something for our troubles. I don't see her ass out there paying the price. Shit."

~And, of course, he needed to calm down the fly in his ear. She can see that he had some things going on right now. He can't be expected to be everywhere at once. What? Was he supposed to be down here and drinking the Hennessy that had already been paid for AND up in suite 187 giving her the business. Sheesh. He might as well clone himself or something. Gah. If only he could just split Lairota from his brain and tell him to go bed Angel, then he wouldn't have to deal with her tugging on his pants right now. He looked over his shoulder at Angel and said...~

"And you... I know you want to take a ride on my disco stick... But damn woman... Give me a second or two to finish my drink. I've still got... One... Two... THREE. I got three drinks left. And I intend on getting my alcohol. So, ya know, hold on to your hormones until I'm about finished here. Yeah?"

~He looked back at the Vinzenz and Rolari. That trademark smirk plastered across his face as he raises an eyebrow.~

"Sheesh. Women... I tell ya... I must be giving off them pheromones tonight or something. Hahahaha."

[Angel Lust]

She had got what she had came for. The man was drinking, so give him 15 minutes and he was gonna be stoned drunk. She would prefer him being sober, but this would do. Pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket, she placed it on the table in front of him. It read:

Marriot Hotel
Room 69

She left it out long enough for him to read it, then stuck it in his coat pocket. Once more she whispered in his ear:

I'll be waiting for you....

Before leaving the bar.

[Adrian Taylor]

"Heh, heh. Goddamn."

~...That's all Adrian could say when he watched Angel take her leave. Talk about having an obsessive stalker following you wherever you go. He couldn't even lose her by heading all the way to the other side of the continent. The trip from New York to Las Vegas wasn't exactly a quick one. That girl must really want him really bad if she was willing to make the move from one coast to the other to find him. And for what? To rock her world for a night? Gah. If he only had that kind of luck with a certain redhead around these parts, he'd be a happy man. Adrian turned back to the two at the bar with him and said...~

"Stalkers are a crazy breed, I tell ya."