|
Post by johnthompson on Sept 2, 2020 0:22:38 GMT -6
What a town Las Vegas is. Sin City. Right now all attention is on the Mandalay Bay casino where John Thompson is hanging out. He sits at a $25 slot machine, clad to the nines in a pair of black slacks, and a dark gray dress shirt.
"No! No! Come on, ya piece of shit!" John Thompson yells at the machine as it takes the last of his money. He grits his teeth, balls his hand into a fist, and brings it back.
"Come on Johnny T you know you don't want to do that."
A second of silence passes while Johnny takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself.
"Yo Frankie don't tell me what I want to and what I don't want to do. You don't know."
Thompson turns around to look at his old friend, Frankie Renzulli.
Frankie's a 6'5" brick shithouse, who goes around 370 pounds. He also happens to be security at the casino.
"Frankie let me tell you what this machine did. It tricks ya, Frankie. It tells you it'll feed you, but then it takes everything.
Yo Frankie there's gotta be another way to make money in this world . "
John's words trail off as he notices a commercial on the TV.
"Right there Frankie. Professional wrestling."
Frankie scratches his head for a moment.
"What do you know about professional wrestling Johnny T?".
He asks, still a little confused.
"I know that it'll get me out of debt. They make big money Frankie."
John now turns to Frankie, who is looking at him totally lost.
"How do you expect to become a wrestler Johnny?"
"Easy Frankie.". John replies.
"Doesn't seem so easy to me."
"Well it is all we have to do is go to Dallas, Texas."
Frankie looks at him, with a realization clearly dawning on him.
"We?"
"Yeah Frankie you and I. We're going to go see Jonathan Burrows."
"I can't."
"Of course you can. We'll leave in the morning. I'll see you later Frankie."
John Thompson walks away leaving Frankie to wonder how he's going to get out of work.
|
|