Promo: You Know What They Say

[Guest Tonights Highlite]

Lockdown has gone off the air and another long trek to the next arena on a list of hundreds continues for most, but not all. A few stragglers pack bags or eat out -- some even have a drink at the local watering hole. On any normal day, Ryan Dustin would be in the thick of the above mentioned watering hole, less than three hours away from getting chucked in the drunk-tank. But today, Ryan’s body has just informed him, he’s not quite as young as he used to be. A jolt of pain; unable to be pinpointed, since his entire body feels out of whack -- updates that opinion, post haste, to definitely not as young as he used to be. Slowly walking through the halls of the Ford Center, a slight twinge occurs in his abdominals. Note to self: Tope Con Hilo’s don’t only pop the crowd, but in the end he pulled out a win. Now; how can he do the same against Tom Flesher… the jackass that got him to submit like it was nothing, when he first returned -- granted it was a six man tag, but it shouldn’t have been that easy. Still, he did get beat down like a red-headed stepchild by Revolution Zero that day Spike Jenkins decided to ruin a good bottle of Jack. Ryan thought the ‘no ticket?’ line deserved a more appropriate response, but kid’s these days act cocky -- under false pretenses, of course -- like when they’ve got the numbers advantage. Also seems like they act that way even when they don’t have numbers; Tom Flesher for instance. Seems that maybe it’s not a charade. Maybe they are just that much better now. That could be why they’re a step faster, or not in the trainers office after TV matches. And as Ryan walks into the trainers’ office and spots a lone figure sitting on a padded table, it becomes clear.

 

Seems like, we can’t stop ourselves from getting old.

 

“I knew somebody had to be having a worse day than me. Now I’ve found out whom. You need some help?”

 

Mark Stevens sits up with a groan, looking around the room. He spots his new 'roommate' and though he is grimacing; he seems to be in good spirits, considering. “No, I’ll be fine. The trainer’s already seeing to me.” says the Heavy Hitter, getting comfortable again. Stevens motions towards the half done succor job above his left orbital bone, a nice black and blue contrast forming a ring around his eye socket. “Just took one hell of a beating, is all."

 

“Oh, I saw it. Hell, I felt it, before." adds Ryan, clutching his rib-cage as he shuffles in. "I just thought it be the polite thing to do. Ask--I mean. I was advised that I don’t make enough of an effort to--well, never mind.”

 

Dustin sits on the table next to Grand Slam, rubbing his jaw as he speaks. “That Ace crushers a bitch. I guess the trainer ran out of ice?" Mark nods. "Here take this--it’ll dull the pain until the trainer gets back.”

 

Mark looks at the frosted bottle -- a change of pace for Dustin, who's normal drink of choice is the Jack of all trades, named Daniels -- filled with clear Rum and without hesitation unscrews the top, taking a gulp. “Hey, don’t drink it--damnit, I was saving that! Put it against your jaw." says a slightly miffed Dustin, noting that Stevens -- as he places the cool bottle to his face and sighs contently -- didn't flinch while drinking the cooled Bacardi. He must be really hurting to do that or he must have a really strong will. Hearing how straight laced Stevens is, the latter is the more likely of the two. "I faced Lezaire in my first match back and lets’ just say; it was a rude awakening for me, not him, like I originally planned."

 

The irony of that phrase seems lost on Stevens, who just looks on, while Ryan finishes laughing at his own joke.

 

“Sorry, inside joke. It's kinda my finisher--the rude awakening, well, with a slight variation... uh, at least the jokes not inside anymore... " says Dustin, trailing off, while Mark presses the bottle closer to his face. "Yeah, I took that move from Lezaire and it sobered me up real fast.”

 

The sit in quite for a moment. Neither sure where this conversation is going, but Mark will do anything to take his mind off his slightly bruised ego and much less slightly bruised body. “So, why are you in here? I know why I’m in here, but you pulled out a win in your match. You don’t see too many people, let alone winners in here, after the show.”

 

Dustin contemplates the question for a moment. Normally, he wouldn't be here... “Lets’ just say pain is relative and apparently, I’m its’ older cousin." says Ryan with a wry smile.

 

“Ha, I know the feeling." responds Stevens, chuckling and wincing accordingly. "You know, we’ve never been formally introduced. though I’ve seen you around. I’m Mark Stevens.” Ever the consument professional, he extends his hand for a shake.

 

“Ryan Dustin.” says Dustin, accepting Grand Slam's hand. As the trainer comes back into the room, with ice, and Ryan motions for Stevens to give him back the bottle. The trainer quirks an eyebrow, as Mark takes the glass away from his face and hands it over.

 

"You ever get the feeling, Ryan, that you're a step behind curve." says Mark, while the trainer finishes up his succor. "That everyones just better than you remembered."

 

"Yeah, but I don't have the best memory. Lost too many brain cells, you see." Dustin adds, taking a swig from his Bacardi. "But I understand that feeling, Mark. It's like you're an energizer battery after being recharged in the freezer--you use to keep going and going and going, but now you can only just go..."

 

"You're a funny guy, Ryan." mumbles Stevens, sucking his teeth as the trainer finishes up. "That's exactly what it feels like, but why is it that every time I see you--you’re either drinking or just about to drink?”

 

Ryan shrugs, slightly put off by Stevens directness. It's not really his business. “I’ve got the alcoholic gene. And you know what they say. You can’t beat your genetics.”

 

"They say a lot of things..."

 

"That they do, Mark." says Dustin, breath hitching as the trainer tapes up his ribs. "That they do..."

 

“Hey--how are you getting to the arena." Dustin shrugs and mumbles 'probably drive' inbetween straight sips of rum. Mark just shakes his head. "Well Ryan, I haven't had to do this in a while and I don't think you should be doing any driving anyway, so how about you go with me. I need someone to split riding time with and you definitely will need some time to sleep off that...”

 

"Sure, I could use the older company. Everyone seems like they're under thirty around here. I'm glad someones as old as me."

 

"Hey, what are friends for?" adds Mark in a passing comment, but for Ryan Dustin that is a good question. What are friends for? Maybe with enough time, he'll find out, but for now...

 

"Buying me drinks, Mark. Buying me drinks..."

[Kaertos 0]

Nice. And I'm not just saying that because I'm in it.

[Guest Suicide King]

It's always nice to see the elderly getting drunk together.

[Secret Agent 0]

Oh, nice promo. It's good to see Ryan Dustin doing something. Keep it up!