OOC: Sorry for this being rushed as fuck; I totally forgot I had signed up as Table!

The scene opens up to another high school gymnasium; this one painted with a black and blue scheme. Jaw Burr had seen many different color schemes, and he hated them all. All he ever wanted to do was be a professional wrestler, all he wanted was to get the crowd to love him in numbers larger than 20. Thirteen years later, Jaw was 33, having more years than people who watched his matches on a regular basis. That was until he got the call from the XWF to speak for their crazy new creation; Table. He saw this as an opportunity to make himself relevant. After all this time; he wasn't about to give that up.

Jaw Burr: "Now, I know you all know about the match between some guy named Ken Kennedy and Table? Slight change. You see; Table isn't quite here now, he's gone. Now, it's time for Jaw Burr to shine! I've been here too long, been fighting for you for too long to not take my chance! So, to that motherfucker Kennedy, I offer you one word of advice:

Bring your all, because I'm fucking hungry."

***

The drive back to Jaw's trailer was uneventful, the only noteworthy thing was passing by two dogs fucking in front of house that he knew belonged to some old bitch. That was pretty great, but nothing else was too spectacular. Getting out of his car and locking the door; he walked to the front door and stormed into the trailer.

Around him, the air reeked of the pizza he had meant to throw out a week ago. Disregarding that, he grabbed the refrigerator door and pulled it open. Evidently too far, as the door comes off in his hand. Who gave a fuck about that anyway? He throws it and it skids across the floor; scraping the tile floor and screeching the whole way.

Reaching into the back of the fridge, he pulls out a can of PBR and pops it open. Within seconds of placing it to his lips, it's gone down his throat. He repeats the process three or four more times, before shutting the metaphorical door and stumbling into his bathroom.

The mirror was cracked in multiple spots, from where he was rejected from other promotions for not being good enough. No more, no more inadequacy. He was going to step it up here. There was nothing standing in his way, except for that fucking raccoon.

Yeah, sitting in the doorway of the bathroom was a big fucking raccoon. It looks at him, and snarls. Not wanting to deal with this shit, he kicks the thing in the face, only to have the motherfucker scratch the shit out of his leg.

"Fuck it."

Maybe it was being drunk, maybe it was the fact that he was fucking stupid, maybe it was something else, but instead of going to the doctor, Jaw decides to stumble into bed and pass out upon landing on the mattress.

A new day was awaiting him, full of opportunity and rabies.

But mostly rabies.

Who wouldn't want a ghost prostitute? - Mr. Satellite

Being offended is no reason to cheat - Archie Lawson