Rolling High, Part 1

(Mad Dog stands with his most open, a wood tip black & mild, stuck to his lip. His purples are dilated to size of fifty quarters, his face frozen in amazement as he stares out into the nothingness of the desert. He truly looked like a slack jawed yokel, but in reality, he is higher than Giraffe pussy.

Mad Dog loves the movie "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas", and swore if he ever made it to Vegas, he was coming to the desert and eating acid, and Mad Dog always keeps a promise.

Sunny Jim is not pleased with this, he thinks Mad Dog should be concentrating and training for what is surely the biggest match of Mad Dogs career, but Mad Dog never really concentrates, and certainly never trains like a classic wrestler.

Sunny sits in the driver seat of his Cadillac convertible with the top down to give him a better view of Mad Dog, and to let him work on his tan. Sunny is growing agitated though, he came to Vegas to see Elvis impersonators, bet at the sports book, and to see his client pick up a huge win at High Rollers, but here he sits under the hot desert sun instead.

Annoyed, Sunny flips up the sunglass shades that cover his normal glasses. His nose is lathered white with sun screen, and he is wearing Fedora, that he takes off and tosses in the passenger seat out of frustration.)

SJ: I can't believe I let him talk me into this, we should be at a gym training, studying film, or at the very least shooting some craps. Instead I'm baking in this sun like a damn Christmas ham. Well, hell I might as well go ahead and make the best of it and let you all know right now that you are looking at the soon to be number on contender to the North American championship, and the NEXT North American champion.

No, not me. Him, Mad Dog.

(Sunny points from the car to Mad Dog, who is still starring out into nothing and mumbling to himself. Sunny notices this, and sighs and shakes his head.)

SJ: Ok, maybe he doesn't look like much right now, but over the past two weeks he has proved himself in the GCWA, going to the limit with Tony Savage, in what was one of the best matches I've ever seen in my life, and then absolutely demolishing Petey Vaughn. When that bell rings, it's like flipping a switch, it's like in Over the Top when Stallone turns the hat around backwards, it kicks Mad Dog into gear.

I can guarantee you all he is going to be a fine-tuned machine, running like a Ferrari at High Rollers. Right now, he might be high, but come November tenth he'll be rolling, rolling right over Adi Goldblum and Lusus. People underestimate Mad Dog, they think he's a country bumpkin and all he knows is mining coal, but what they quickly find out when they step into the ring with him is that he is one of the toughest sob's to ever lacs up a pair of wrestling boots, and he will fight until his body gives out and he can't fight anymore.

HEY SUNNY, YOU SEE THAT BEAR!?!

(Mad Dog is pointing off into the distance. Sunny looks, but doesn't see anything, he shakes his head and says, "I don't see anything". Mad Dog doesn't look back, but instead turns his WVU baseball cap around backwards and spits his black & mild out. "GET OUT OF HERE BEAR!", Mad Dog shouts.

"There's no bear, you're just tripping.", Sunny says. "Na, look at that. Big black bear like in the hollows back home. This one is wearing a mask though. Hiding his big ugly mug. Get your ass out of here bear", Mad Dog yells at nothing. In Mad Dogs mind though the bear is wearing a mask with red trim, looking much like Lusus. The bear is indeed the mental psychedelic version of Lusus.

"AAAHHHHH, RAWF! RAWF! RAWF!", Mad Dog screams and then charges at the imaginary bear. In Mad Dogs mind the Lusus bear stands on its hind legs, and Mad Dog leaps and drop kicks the bear in the chest. Mad Dog quickly grabs the bear in a headlock and begins wrestling it.

What Sunny sees though, is Mad Dog rolling around in the dirt, yelling at an imaginary bear. Sunny takes his glasses off, rubbing his eyes and double checking to see if this is real.)

Johnathan Jason Morrison, do you have to put up with stuff like this from your client? Oh no, you just have to worry about his bad legs, right? At least Lusus got his knee problems from wrestling, unlike Adi who got her knee problems from spending so much time on them. Those wheels, that is the weak point of that monster Lusus. Ever seen a eighteen wheeler blow some tires at seventy miles per hour? Not a pretty site, and at High Rollers, Lusus is going to have his tire blown by the Mad Dog. Trust me, I'm not above telling him to sweep the leg.

Lusus is big, big as a grizzly bear, but as you can see, Mad Dog isn't afraid of a bear.

(Mad Dog picks the bear up and vertical suplexs it. Mad Dog scrambles to his feet and climbs up a nearby boulder and leaps off with the Go Mad, diving headbutt onto the bear. Well, that is what happened in Mad Dog mind, but what Sunny saw was Mad Dog jump off a rock onto his face.

Mad dog stands up, covered in dirt and his lip now busted open and bleeding.)

Hey, Lusus, you big old sum bitch, you a big man, but you ain't as big as a bear. As you seen, old Mad Dog just gave the big old flying headbutt to that bear, and like Elton John said, "I'm still standing". So, go see of if you can dig out one of them old football helmets out of your closet and strap that sum bitch on tight, cause you gonna need it when I drop this cinderblock head on ya from the top rope.

You ain't the only bear I gotta deal with, cause I know all about Goldilocks and the three bears. That's right Adi Goldilocks, I know your story. That was probably one of your three bears disguised as Lusus (points to his dirty and bloody head), na, old Mad Dog is too smart too fall for that.

What was that?

(Mad Dog begins looking at the sky and twitching his head around. Sunny sighs and takes a drink of water.)

He's normally not like this I swear. He'll be back to his old form come Sunday night though, actually, scratch that, he'll be better than ever come Sunday night. Mad Dog is going to show the Wiener Queen and the companion of Bacchus, who the true TOP DOG of GCWA is, and who the next North American champion is.

For those of you who don't know what I mean by "companion of Bacchus", number one read a history book you dimwitted idiots, and two that is the origin of the name Lusus. Lusus, companion of Bacchus, the Roman god of wine and divine madness. Well, Lusus you must be mad if you think you are getting the win on Sunday, but I have to ask, are you mad enough?

Are you mad enough to face down the Mad Dog? Did your failed dreams of the NFL drive you mad? Did your constant knee injuries drive you mad? Has being so fat that you haven't seen your wiener without the aid of a mirror since high school driven you mad? Quite frankly, JORDEN, I don't think you know the first thing about madness, but you'll soon learn. You'll learn firsthand at the feet of the master of madness, the Mad Dog Mark right, because Sunday night he will make you... go mad.

(Mad Dog is now on the ground, crawling around on all fours. With a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes Sunny asks, "Mark, what are you doing?". Mark places his ear to the ground and replies, "I'm hunting gold diggers, they burrow under the ground like whistle pigs".)

Gold diggers, that wouldn't be what you are, would it dear Wiener Queen Adi Goldblum? I mean, we all know you are in it for the money, but then again if you aren't in any business for the money, then you're either an idiot or a hipster trust fund kid.

Oh wait, your granddaddy got you and your dimwit brother a job here in GCWA didn't he? So, you never actually had to earn a spot on the roster, just like you've never had to earn anything in your life. Unlike your job here, that shot at the North American championship will not be handed to you. If anything, it will be ripped from your finely manicured fingers by the Mad Dog. I'm sure those dainty hands of yours don't have the grip strength of the callused-up working man hands that Mad Dog has, so, when you two are both placing your hands on that brass ring of opportunity, who do you think is going to win that game of tug of war?

Mad Dog has never had anything handed to him, shit, he’s never even had anything come easy in this life. Do you think for one second that some Wiener Queen, born with a silver spoon in her mouth is going to waltz into Las Vegas, in the biggest match of Mad Dogs career and take what he has worked so hard for? Well honey, you don’t need the odds makers to tell you that it is a heck of a long shot that happens. I’m putting my hard-earned money on that man right there.

(Sunny points at Mad Dog, who has now pulled out his pocket knife and is using it to dig a hole into the earth. “I gotta get down to them Golddiggers” Mad Dog says as he digs deeper. “Got um”, Mad Dog says as he sticks is hand into the hole. Sunny see’s Mad Dog stick his hand into the earth and pull out a clump of dirt, but in Mad Dogs acid induced state, he sees something different.

Mad Dog pulls out what can only be described as a groundhog dipped in gold. Mad Dog holds it by the scruff of the neck, examining it as the gold covered whistle pig squeals.)

You think you can just come in here and take what others have worked so hard for? You think just cause your pretty and covered in gold that you can sneak into the hen house and steal the eggs we been laying? HELL NAH! Mad Dog done worked his hands to the bone to get what he has and some damn little golden hog isn’t going to take that away from me. I’m gonna gut you, skin you, and roast your ass over the fire…AND…I ain’t sharing that big old bear either.

(Mad Dog grabs his knife and brings it closer to the gold digger, or as can be seen in reality, begins to stab a clump of dirt.)

He may be tripping, but he has a point. Adi, Mad Dog is going to tear you apart and walk out of Vegas with a victory, and the winner, just like in Highlander, there can be only one, so Jorden, that means you are flat out of luck. Mad Dog is going to be the last person standing at High Rollers, and he is going become the next North American champion.

Now… what the heck is he doing now?