My eyes watched the promos, watching my brother’s pitiful puppet spew his garbage and falsehoods. I can see his fingerprints crusting each frame of the videos. I writhe into a fist every time I hear his words, trebled by the tongue of this elevated demonic pretender.
When I woke this morning, once again I found myself tossed in the back of the box truck; the cold metal floor abrupted jerked me from my flying dreams.
B.O.B. calls.
I can understand the blindfold, but I still don’t understand the need for the gag.
Hearing the door open before I feel them grasp my body, dragging me from my prone state to my fingertips, rushing me inside. They again wait until I’m inside the ring before they remove my bondages. The stranger introduced herself in a gruff and low tone as Lady Graves.
Don’t even tell me where that gag’s been, Gravey. My ignorance is my bliss in the matter. But it tasted like shit, literally.
Gravey tells me her plans – or at least I think they are plans. Nevertheless, she told me things -- what the point of half, or most of the things were for that matter, I am completely remiss. But I pledged my loyalty for their help; my brother and his followers of fools, jokers, and pretenders will not go silently into the night.
They prepared for their matches, and I watched fervently from the side. Picking up every tip and critique the crew had to offer. Lady Graves sat silently watching from what they called “The Board Room,” but I could see her silhouette through the glass into the darker backdrop, she seemed pleased, they had just signed another member, HGH, to the team, and the talent of our crew has only begun to grow.
When the sweat covered every inch of us and the ring, Graves called me to the Board room.
“Your ‘singlet’,” Graves laughs, “It’s old and torn.”
“It’ll suffice.”
“Not in B.O.B. it won’t. Here.” Her gruff voice gave the appeal of a lady whose mother smoked enough cigarettes while she was in utero, that she was born with a cigarette in her mouth.
She tells me she wasn’t born this way; I believe her.
Graves hands me a new singlet, looks a little tight in the finger crotch, but it will make for a shiny debut.
Moments later we are rushed into a room with the lot of BOB’s and what they referred to as RoBOBs, like a wallflower I cling to the back of the room. Listening to Gravy and Ozzy argue over things that are beyond my position and understanding. Then, by some insanity Ozzy pulls from a vortex a female version of a singular mantle in the crowd from the vortex, not so singular now.
Perplexed, a twin hand standing behind the crowd gawking at the argument, I myself am in my own little world now.
"I SAID GET YOUR FUCKING ASSES OUT OF HERE NOW! NOW! NOW!"
I was the first out the door.
Later when Lady Gravy spoke to me, she acted like she didn’t even know me. Hopefully my goal to stop my brother hasn’t been forgotten as well.