Second Match

[Allura Desmonds]

Second Match
Asylum Lockdown
Johnny Reb vs Johnny Rockstar


RP Limit: 2 Per Person
Deadline: 07/28/19 at 11:59pm eastern time
Grace Period: 07/30/19 at 11:59pm eastern time
Good Luck

[thenewcsa]

*The camera falls on the interior of a barely lit bar in the wee hours of the morning. Most of the tables and chairs have been cleaned and put up as the staff busy themselves with the daily chores of sweeping and cleaning. Despite the Open sign being turned off a truck still sits outside lonely and abandoned with the License plate clearly readable in the window. A georgia license plate sits along the mud covered Ford that reads "Rebel" on it. Flies buzz about the window sill loudly as a figure sits at the bar on the only barstool that is still off the counter. The figure sits with his back to the camera. A black Cowboy Hat upon his head. His shirt reads "If you can read this, the bitch fell off" on the back along with a harley Davidson log. His face is downward staring into a half drunk whiskey glass as the brown liquor inside warms the clinking ice cubes that keep it from growing tepid. A jukebox with it's neon lights and bubbling liquid glows in the corner. Looking like a timepiece out of some sort of music video as the figure just looks at it and smirks. The figure is that of Johnny Reb and he just shakes his head as he downs the last bit of that glass of Rye Whiskey. His mouth jerks as the alcohol hits his tonsils and burns all the way down as he looks up at the figures around him.*

J.R.: Closin' up, Lloyd?

*A rounder grey man with skin of leather comes from the back behind the counter. His flannel shirt covered in red and black checks as his hands shake reaching for a Fedora Hat of felt. His suspenders sit outside his shirt holding up sagging jeans with a belt of black leather as he looks at Johnny.*

Lloyd: Yeah, Johnny. Got to get home and get some rest. You-uh- you still thirsty are ya?

*Johnny just nods as a woman walks by waving her hand to Johnny saying bye. Johnny waves back and just looks at the old man with a nod.*

J.R.: Yeah, figured I'd finish up. Want me to close 'er down fer ya?

Lloyd: Oh, that's fine. I know yer good fer it. Just leave yer money on the bar fer whatever. You remember the keys by the-

J.R.: By the door on the hook. I gotcha, Lloyd. Hell ya think this is my first rodeo? Now y'all scoot. Get yerself some sleep, old top.

*The old man just smiles walking by Johnny and patting him on the shoulder gently before walking away. Johnny sits in silence a moment before hearing the sound of the bell ringing to the door as he sits staring at the glass in his hand in a solemn quiet moment. before finally sitting the glass down and sighing*

J.R.: What a fuckin' waste.

*Johnny clenches his hand around the glass again. His body language agitated as he shifts in his seat. His mouth tightens a bit looking to the side glancing dead into the camerabefore leaning on the bar to look at it directly.*

J.R.: Well, Howdy y'all. It's me good ol' yadda yadda... y'all fuckers know me by now. And if you don't y'all should. That's right good ol' Johnny Reb ain't feelin' so friendly right now. It could be because the Gentleman and I have had a meet and greet all night with this glass as a go between if y'all catch my meaning. Or it might be because my opponent this week one "Johnny Rockstar" done chapped my ass. Now, I know what yer probably thinkin'. Ooo Johnny Rockstar? He sounds cool. Y'all could form some sort of Tag team or some shit. Or hey he sounds like he sucks. Like some sort of discount Johnny Reb in an Elvis costume. Well, y'all are probably both right because nobody done seen this loser before. Now, don't get me wrong. I been in this business a long ass time and i don't mind puttin' over new talent. But if this guy is some sort of dime store rockstar then old Johnny Rebs going to have to ask for his Nickleback.

*Johnny stands up walking around the bar to pick up a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel's just to walk back around and begin pouring it into his glass. Finally full again he sets the bottle on the bar and takes a big drink from the glass. the only sound in the room the clink of the ice in his glass before he pulls away sighing contentedly as he sets his whiskey down and retakes his seat.*

J.R.: I mean here I am the face of N.C. dubya, the most controversial Southerner in all of rasslin' and y'all set me up to fight some discount Elton john cause we have the same first name? What a fuckin' joke! I mean this is just like Allura. She probably picked up some kid from some two bit mountain promotion and before he even knew his ass from a hole in the ground she slaps a guitar on him and pretends he's the new Bruce Springsteen. I mean the kid ain't even sayin' anything. Yeah, he's one helluva solo act. Hell he's solo you can't hear him. I mean I even picked the venue for this promo specifically for that ol' jukebox cause I was gonna do a whole "Don't rock the jukebox" thing with 'em. You know I'd make jokes about being country and how he's rock and roll and how come this week y'all gonna see the Redneck get as metal as an android James Hetfield. You know, that type of shit! But, naw. This kid done left me high and dry. No word. Nuthin'. Now, take it from me ol' Johnny Reb appreciates goin' to a bar. Hell I don't need much incentive to drink. But here I am bringin' my "A" game against a B-side performer. Well, let it never be said that ol' Johnny Reb done disappointed his fans but honestly Johnny Rockstar you make me ashamed to call myself Johnny. I'd change my name to the artist formerly known as Johnny Reb but I can't fit in the Gold Gimp Suit. Don't have enough talcum powder for it. Seriously, I'm pissed off. Especially when I heard this whole thing got started cause some rookie wannabe wanted to face me. As it stands, son, you could have been the Ace of Spades but you just ended up the Joker didn't ya? Well you keep on bein' silent. Hell I prefer ya that way. Hard to tell what joke lounge singer act, Allura got ya dressed in in the first place.

*Johnny tosses back the drink again before slamming the glass on the bartop with a loud sound shaking his head*

J.R.: Well, don't y'all worry though. Ol' Johnny's showin' up for this match. Hell, it don't matter if I have to fight the referee himself. Long as you put a body in front of this good ol' boy he's comin' out swingin'. So y'all feelin froggy go ahead and jump, boy, but you bring in a guitar and you better lube it up first cause I'm gonna shove it fret first up your ass. I guarantee that. Now that thats out of the way y'all camera guys want some of this?

*The camera suddenly nods as if responding to Johnny's request and Johnny picks it up offering it to the camera. A hand reaches from off screen to grab it but Johnny pulls it back waving his finger and shaking his head.*

J.R.: Naw naw naw, y'all are on the job. Only Johnny Reb is allowed to drink on the job, boys.

*He ppours another glass then slides the bottle down the bar to the camera.*

J.R.: I'm kiddin'. Just don't tell the boss lady we got sloshed. Damn this would have been funnier if he'd have cut a promo.

*He goes to take a drink but stops looking at the camera interrupting his drink.*

J.R.: Oh, thats it. It's over y'all need to stop filmin' and start drinkin' or I'm shovin' that camcorder up your asshole.

*With that the camera sits itself on the bar as hands eagerly grab the botte of Jack to drink as the scene fades to black.*