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013

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TUSK

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The smashed up charter bus barreled at a high rate of speed off the ramp from the highway and into bustling traffic at the intersection. Vehicles passing through screech to a stop and nearly wreck into one another avoiding the reckless bus.

"Hold onto your tits!"

Trevor screams to the near dozen passengers behind him. The one front corner is smashed in and the back is wide open. The back door is gone and appears to have been blasted right off the hinges. He cuts the wheel hard to the left and leans into it. The bus hops up on two wheels and squeals through the intersection and makes the perfect ninety degree turn onto the next highway. Other drivers scream, flip off the bus, and beep their horns during the near disaster. Trevor stomps his foot hard on the gas pedal and gives the bus everything he can to regain speed. The passengers peppered throughout hold onto each other, the seats, rails... anything they could for dear life. Food items, other groceries, purses, and bags alike fly out of the back of the bus and bounce and roll all over the street.

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2 hours prior . . .

Trevor's fat ass devours a stool as he sits in front of a penny-slot machine just jamming copper into the poor thing. It bleeps and blops and lights up for him almost on command as he seems to coerce it into money from time to time. Trevor apparently finds the right time and space because the lights and whistles on the machine start going completely crazy and coins start pouring out of the machine. Trevor's cup just can't take it all and the coins pour all over the floor and into his mouth somehow.... When two man appear behind Trevor and his celebration. They're dressed from head to toe and have an incredible, most glorious glow to them. Trevor looks up and realizes there are no coins.. Just a small ticket that poked out of a slot in the front.

"Hm."

He looks behind him and notices the two hunks standing there and, with all of his strength, pushes himself back up to their level.

"Good dey, gentlemen. What can I do ya fer?"

He nods and raises an eyebrow a little confused of his own Irish accent that slipped through.

"Just protocol sir. We're here to escort you to your winnings."

"What fuckin' winnings?"

Trevor rips the ticket out of the machine and eats it. The two men in white look at each other disappointed and look back.

"You're stil going to have to come with us."

The same one from before says.

"You know what this is about, quit fucking around."

The other man in white, the hostile one apparently, speaks up. Trevor sighs to himself and closes his eyes.

"Yeah. I know exactly what it's about."

"HIM!"

The three men freeze and look in one direction at three old women each holding one security man by an arm pointing at Trevor.

"He's playing slots and eating tickets! Get him out! Get him out! Get him out!"

Old bitches be crazy. The poor security guy didn't know what the fuck to do. He was minding his own business a second ago before he was nabbed by these old bats because some old fat fucker was eating his tickets? His first agenda was to calm the old broads down, once he did that, assess the situation. They just wouldn't shut up.

"Aren't you going to do something?"

"He's ruining it for the rest of us!"

"Blah! Blah! Blah!"

The men in white backed off from the situation and Trevor watched while the old squawkers caused more negative results to their mission than positive. He oozed his way out of the scene as well. The security guy noticed and called out to him, but the wicked old ladies consumed him with more ranting and raving that eventually made him give up all together with the stupid situation. Trevor scurried down a few aisles and made his way for the exit. He slammed into the double door and nearly tripped over his own skid marks as he stopped in a completely pitch white room. He turned to come back the way he came, but the double doors he just slammed into were gone and he was stuck in this empty, blank void. He sighs to himself again, as haunting memories trigger in the back of his mind of stranger things.... A voice echoes behind him and startles him a bit.

"What are you doing, Trevor?"

He recognizes the voice. It's the same voice as before... In his dream.. Vision... Whatever.

"Why aren't you helping us?"

The man in black steps out from what seems like thin air and approaches Trevor.

"Helping you by doing what?! Eating another bullet?! I'm eating shit all right, because I'm possessing some FAT FUCKING WASTE from some shitty village in Scotland! I thought I was doing you a favor before, but you see how fuckin' far that got me."

"And that's my fault."

"I would say you have a serious fucking problem, yeah."

Trevor looks at his maker like he was his unmaker.

"Trevor, you made a deal long ago that IS breakable. I can undo your mistakes."

Trevor smirks while the man in black reaches out to him and touches him on the soldier. Trevor returns to his actual form and not the fat, disgusting, Irishman he once was. His clothing is the brightest of white that matches that matches the room he's in.

"So what happens now?"

The man in black looks down and laughs.

"You know what happens."

The man in black smiles. He leans down into Trevor's ear and whispers...

"He needs you."

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The loud blaring horn of the charter bus meant nothing for the first few seconds. The white surroundings, white clothing, and everything else slowly faded away and Trevor realized he was standing in the middle of four lane highway. The bus made a sharp right and clipped the edge of a large concrete overpass. The bus took it like a champ and kept rolling, but slowed to a stop shortly after. Trevor rushes up to it and climbs aboard to find about a dozen passengers distraught and moaning to themselves. He squints his eyes and notices the doctor sitting in the far back seat of it all.

"Lou!"

Trevor waves passed all of the people. They look behind them, then look back even more scared than before.

"I'm not going anywhere buddy! This bus is fucked up!"

The bus driver shoves Trevor towards the back of the bus.

"And you're about to be fucked up!"

The driver's clothes begin to shimmer in white and his eyes roll into the back of his head as he continues shoving Trevor further towards the back of the bus. The driver then notices the doctor who's been sitting there the entire time and freezes. Doc stands up from his seat and shoves the driver to the side and he falls like a manikin. Stiff as a board and planted against the window.

"It's about time we should be going, don't you think?"

Trevor begins to remember to the good old days. He rushes past Doc to the front of the bus and takes over the pilot chair. The few people that have literally had nowhere to go through all of this still cower in their seats while Trevor backs the nearly destroyed bus back onto a live highway. The first of emergency vehicles have just shown up, but to no avail as the bus drives away from them. Doc makes his way to the front of the bus and pats his favorite patient on the shoulder.

"Just drive around a bit, my friend. I'm afraid you're a marked man now."

Trevor bounces in the seat and looks up to the doc.

"Say what?"

As Trevor shrieks to the doc a loud crash can be heard from the back. Then another. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

"The fuckin' roof is cavin' in!"

The stomps from above are footsteps from a giant man in white who manages to swing himself down to the door of the bus! Trevor grabs a hold of the handle while the man struggles to open the door and beats on it from the outside!

"Let him in."

Trevor looks down at the speedometer, we're up to 50 miles per hour and going... He looks back at Doc...

"Are you fuckin' nuts?"

He looks back to the other fellow frightened passengers on the hellish bus ride and closes his eyes. As Trevor pulls the lever, the door opens and the big brute in white along with another right behind him rushes in! ONLY... They're not in the front, but in the back! They look at each other confused for a moment before Doc charges into them like a rhinoceros and plows them straight out of the back of the bus!

Doc and the two gentlemen slide on the pavement for what seeems like miles but was only a couple of feet. They all three lie there for a second before one of the men in black begins to move... Doc springs up and hammers down on both of their heads and smashes them like pumpkins. Their bodies just kind of melt into the ground and evaporate. Doc stands and has to not only get off of the highway he was on, but four others that were lined up beside it. Doc casually begins to walk. Space and time couldn't explain how fast Doc crossed that highway with all of that traffic... But to him.. It was probably all standing still for him.

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As Doc watches the sawdust fly into the air from the two fallen soldiers that came to take out Trevor. He stands up in the middle of the highway and comes inches to getting hit by a tractor trailer.

As time and space freeze over, Doc walks around the traffic and begins making his way down the highway.

"I don't understand why everyone keeps telling me my time is up."

Doc looks inside a few cars at people as he strolls by.

"My time is over, rather."

He snorts up a huge loogie and spits it on someone's windshield.

"You know, I'm willing to accept a new generation popping up around here in this FINE federation. At least, that's what it feels like. It seems like all you fuckers showed up right around the same time and are making demands like you've belonged here all along. Can I get a AHEM? It's not fair for half of you to shove aside the fact that the other half is what has kept this place IN place long enough for you to bitch about it."

"Some certain folks just don't appreciate what they have apparently. Whether you like it or not, my little buddy, you have a sense of self-entitlement to you. We can smell it like a BBQ on Tuesday night. Or any night for that matter. It's absolutely absurd the way you've come in here and ignored the fact you've been not a bitch, but a straight up brat and just hate on Mister Loverboy forcing him into a continuous cycle of monotonous poppycock, more or less babysitting, or telling you where all you idiots should be."

"Did I really hear you say that you should've been competing for the Television Title?"

The doc pulls a cigar from his inner pocket and lights it up as quick as he can.

"You do realize the situation you're in right now, am I right?"

Doc takes a big drag and pollutes the air around him with the poisonous smoke.

"It's much better than that, I assure you. You think the Television Title leads to the top? You think defending it week in, week out on Savage forever goes somewhere? Let's see. Look at Gator, for example, probably one of the longest reigning Television Champions, if not THE, of all time annnnd that's it. Well, he may have had a few Superstar of the Month Awards and he WAS Universal Champ for about five minutes before the good OL' Doc cashed in. But that's history baby. My point is, fuck that TV Title. Fuck Heyman's Rankings. Fuck Heyman. You want to reach the top of the mountain? Well, news flash, Prince, you just got a free helicopter ride to the top. How you using it? To try and break me down? To try and pick me apart? Give me a break, Thaddeus. The most disappointing part is that's what you expected from ME. That's harsh. Haven't you been listening the entire time that you've SURELY been preparing for all of this? I'm not here for any of that. I'm here to assist, to help, and to cure, my young friend. Which, of course, sometimes takes drastic approaches, but hey, I think I've done a decent job thus far."

"Just for the record here, your crush on Miss Dolly is no concern of mine. You can have her all to yourself, just throwing that out there. You don't have to deny anything or pretend you don't know what's going on. I understand you're both young, good looking, talented, and what have you....... Yes... You ARE all of those things, I suppose. Your medieval approach on her kind of creeps ME out so I'm sure that's probably why you haven't had an answer yet... If you need a little advice on how things work with the ladies these days, I'm sure Mister Lane could throw you a few pointers on it. I wouldn't look at your old man, unfortunately, he's seemed like an old lonely bitch since he's most recent run around here. Don't get me wrong, I'd help you, but that's definitely NOT why I'm here, at all."

Doc looks far down the highway with his single awesome eye and sees the reckless, half-destroyed bus frozen in the distance.

"I have to agree with you with one thing though, Young Master Duke. Our session should be the very last one anyone sees that night. MAIN EVENT CALIBER, indeed, compared to the ridiculous showing that they've provided us in the actual main event. Either way it would have turned out, you would have had Scully OR Mister Gilmour..... DEFENDING the UNIVERSAL Title. As much as I appreciate the UNIVERSE, my friends, the two of them have tarnished it for a thousand reigns. And none involved in the match can fix that. Not even, my beloved tag team partner himself, Unknown Soldier can fix what has been done. Our hope for it is lost AGAIN."

"Meanwhile, you and I set the stage and leave those men to play for the grandest prize in our wreckage. I can relate to your gripes there, for sure. You know though, I bet it's probably your fault. I would bet if Mister Loverboy and I were having another session it would trump what we have now. Don't get me wrong. It will be epic to see the good doctor rip you to pieces, throw you back to together, eat you, regurgitate a little bit of you, then shit out on top of what I've puked up. That will be better than anything anything MISTER F'N DOMINANCE does, that's for fucking sure. I'll beat you up a little bit too. See, whether you talk about 'knowing' your place and 'earning' your place around here, your previous whining proves otherwise. Your targeting us fellows who don't lose often? Don't make me laugh, young man. Honestly? So who? Myself? Unknown Soldier? ........... Trax? I'm not sure who else is around here right now with such credentials as myself. What happens when I shut you down though"

Doc has finally made his way to the bus and climbs up onto the open back of it. He walks to the front and sits onto the seat in the front next to Trevor who's sitting frozen in the driver's seat.

"You are precious, you know. Your honest climb up the ladder around here is almost as innocent as Dolly Waters skipping by holding a machete. Your dumb witted comments towards me, your corrections, your statistics, your precisions. So, you're 'three and oh'. OKAY. I was off by one and we're still under five. My mistake, pumpkin, BUT, at your request, I'll make sure to get my facts straight next time when you're THREE AND ONE. That one being ME, in case you need help with your math homework. HA. HA. THAT was a shot at your stupid youth. See ya soon little buddy."

Doc stands up in his seat and leans down towards Trevor's ear.

"TREVOR!"

Doc shouts and the entire UNIVERSE goes back into motion. Trevor shrieks like a little girl and swerves across the road to a chorus of despair in the background.

"Where the fook did you come from?!"

The outer Irish comes to Trevor at the best of times. He quickly gains control of the vehicle again.

"Who the FUCK were those guys?!"

Trevor screams back to the Doc while shimmying the huge bus through traffic and finally slowing down a bit.

"Get us off of this highway. The shadows will be our shelter tonight, my friend."

Trevor, discouraged with the lack of an answer, searches for the next exit he can take to escape the madness of the expressway.

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