+- X-treme Wrestling Federation (https://xwf99.com)
+-- Forum: Warfare Boards (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=6)
+--- Forum: Warfare RP Board (https://xwf99.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=12)
+--- Thread: "Road to Nowhere" or "Road Trips Are Fun" (/showthread.php?tid=26473)
"Road to Nowhere" or "Road Trips Are Fun" - "Dark Warrior" Micheal Graves - 02-08-2017
The scene opens on a Texas highway. We see a car, the engine revved to the max, pushing maybe 20 mph down the road. It must be the demon who is processing Micheal Graves. The last we saw him, he had stolen Cadryn's car and left him stranded at a Super 8 hotel. Micheal, or at least the demon that currently has control of him, admitted that he had no idea how to operate an automobile. The camera angle switches to the inside of the cab, where we find Micheal behind the wheel, pounding on the dashboard and throwing quite the fit.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Why in the fuck won't this thing go any faster?!”
Micheal pumps the gas, causing the car to jerk a bit as he continues to slowly move down the highway.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Maybe I shouldn't have ditched Cadryn. Sure he was an annoying fairy, but at least he held the knowledge to make this vehicle perform at its maximum velocity.”
Micheal searches the cab, there has to be something that he's missing. Just then, he notices the gear shift. He set it to 1, but there are other options. 2, D, R, and N. Micheal grabs the gear shift and forcefully slams it into the R position, but nothing happens. Micheal continues to fumble with the gear shift, pulling it into the drive position. Suddenly the car blast off like a bat outta hell.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "FUUUUUUUCK YEAH! That's the ticket!”
It doesn't take long before Micheal is flying down the highway at 120 mph. Weaving in and out of lanes, and narrowly avoiding some potential life threatening “accidents”.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Outta my fuckin' way, El Paso here I come!”
Here he comes indeed and nothing can stop him, except for the fact that 30 minutes down the road, he snapped his timing belt. What happens when you snap your timing belt while traveling at a high speed like that? Well, generally you throw a rod and effectively destroy the engine. That's where we pick back up, with Micheal Graves, stranded on the side of the highway. He is smart enough to have the hood popped open but has no idea what to look for, or why this vehicle stopped running. Micheal gives up on trying to figure it out. He spots a small community of trailers not too far from the highway and decides to walk over for some help. With a gym bag thrown over his shoulder, Micheal cuts across a large field before making it to the trailer park that is incorrectly named “Sandy Paradise”. The lot consist entirely of dry red dirt. It almost resembles sand, but this place is far from anything that one would call paradise. There are about a dozen trailers in all. Most with tattered rebel flags hanging on them, or in front of them. All of them have piles of various junk scattered around them. Tires, rusted lawn mowers, bags overflowing with beer cans. Micheal spots a truck that doesn't look to be in too bad of shape. He doesn't know much about vehicles, but for your sake, it's a 1987 red Chevrolet Silverado that has been custom lifted an additional 6 inches. Micheal casually walks over to the drivers' side and pulls the handle, locked. All of a sudden Micheal hears a shotgun cock behind him.
”Mister, eff I were you, I'd back away frum that truck nice an' slow.”
Micheal places his hands above his head and slowly turns around. The man holding the gun on him is a short guy, mid to late 30's, and missing most of his teeth. He's decked out in grease cover jeans, a white crew shirt with yellow sweat stains under the arms and around the neck, and a pair of old scuffed up work boots. If Micheal didn't know any better, he might think he just bumped into Nate Higgers.
”You mind telling me whut it is yer doin'?”
Micheal smirks as he lowers his arms.
”Did ah say you could put yer fuckin' hands down!?“
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "I need the keys to your truck.”
”haha hahaha I'm sho' you fuckin' do! You haf' until the count of three t'git off mah fuckin' property before I blow a hole th' size of Texas in yer ass!”
Micheal drops the bag and raises his hands back into the air. The redneck looks back to his trailer and yells inside.
”Bobbie Joe, call th' sheriff. Tell'em I've done caught a thieve!”
Micheal rushes in and grabs the barrel of the gun. BOOM! A shot rings out into the distance. The two men struggle for a moment. Micheal kicks him in the side of the knee and as the man drops, he also releases his grip on the shotgun. Micheal quickly steps back and cocks the gun before aiming it at our Nate Higgers look alike.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Now, like I said, I need the keys to your truck.”
The man reaches into his pocket and tosses a set of keys to Micheal. Micheal catches them. He kneels down and grabs his bag keeping the gun trained on the redneck. Micheal slowly backs away towards the truck.
”Ya know, I know who ya is right?”
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "It doesn't really matter.”
”You that rassler that wears all that makeup like a got dang woman, ain'tcha?”
Micheal opens the drivers' side door to the truck and tosses his bag in.
”Yes you is! You that fruity devil dat runs around with dat other
!”Micheal climbs into the truck, still with the gun trained on this redneck as he fumbles with the keys.
”You do know that Higgers is a local boy doncha? HE ain't gonna take too kindly when he finds out what you done here!”
Micheal finds the key, and turns the engine over.
”An after he's done whoopin' yer ass, I'll be sure to let the police know that I remember what ya look like. You won't last the night in a Texas jail, boy!”
Micheal jumps out of the truck and marches over to the guy. He holding his hands up in fear, trembling at the thought of what Micheal might do. What he does is grabs the back of this guys head by his hair, and shoves the barrel of the shotgun under his chin.
”P... PLEASE, MISTER! D...don't kill me...”
Micheal stands there sneering, holding his position. Tears begin to run down the other guys' cheeks as his breathing becomes erratic. Micheal kicks him to the ground and trains the gun on his head.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Just like Higgers, all of you dumb ass fucking rednecks never know when to just shut the fuck up! Why stand there and run your mouth to a guy who has your own fucking gun trained on you? Why would you try to provoke someone who you stand no chance of stopping? What the fuck is wrong with you!? Why in the fuck would you stand there and run your mouth, when you know damn well inciting me could very well mean the end of you!?”
The guy is still on the ground, sitting up slightly and trying to back away, leaving a trail of piss in his wake. Micheal just walks closer, keeping the gun trained on him the entire time.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "I knew that you inbred idiots were fucking stupid, but not this stupid. I guess I should have known, though. It makes Nate Higgers trying to call Doc and I out, make more sense. The fucker knows that he is in a lose-lose situation, his back is against the wall, and he should just tap out, raise the white fucking flag and leave, but he won't. He's going to try and save face, look like a man. He's going to hope that he can talk shit, and look big. Because he knows that when he climbs into the ring with Doc and myself, no matter his partner, he will look quite small.”
Micheal's eyes wonder as he thinks to himself for a moment.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "And that's all you were doing right? Just trying to look big, for that big woman you have hiding in your trailer.”
The man is still trembling, laying in a puddle of his own piss. Micheal raises the barrel of the gun into the air and fires off a shot. BOOM, and another. BOOM! Micheal continues until all 8 rounds are exhausted from the gun. Micheal tosses the shotgun into the field and climbs back into the truck. We can now hear the faint sound of sirens off in the distance. Micheal leans out the window and yells to the man, who is still frozen in fear.
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "By the way, speak a word of this to the cops, and I promise you that I'll come back and finish the job.”
”B...but what do I tell'em?”
Dark-Weapon: Micheal Graves: "Tell them it was a gang of Mexican rapist, and you did everything you could to keep your woman safe.”
Micheal floors the gas, and darts off across the field and back onto the interstate. He is now only about 4 hours away from El Paso. Road trips are fun!