Slice
02-13-2008, 06:10 PM
James: I have a match against Thompson Orion this Saturday.
Nessa: … yup.
Nessa hits the ball and it bounces off a casket.
James Whitman and the JESTers’ manager, Nessa Petrova, are playing miniature golf in a funeral home. Ahlgrims Funeral Parlor (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/ILPALgolf.html), to be more precise, where it’s actually encouraged.
James: I’ve faced Orion before and won, but I mean technically… That was different, a three man tag match.
Nessa: It was, wasn’t it? Your turn.
James sizes up the ball and goes to hits but is startled by a spooky scream and accidentally bounces the ball off a tombstone as Nessa chuckles.
James: You know that’s the first time I heard you laugh this week?
Nessa sighs and starts walking towards the ball.
James: Look, will you just tell me what’s going on? Where in Illinois, for God’s sake. ILLINOIS! They have cars on a spike (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tnews/NewsItemDisplay.php?Tip_AttrId==16098), a superman museum (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/ILMETsuper.html), and world’s largest catsup bottle (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/sights/sightstory.php?tip_AttrId==2922)!
Nessa: You really wanna know what’s going on?
James: Would I have asked otherwise?
Nessa: Three words. Ice box casket.
James: Oh, COME ON! I told you already, I know what I’m doing! Will you TRUST me?!
Nessa drops her club and sits down on a closed casket.
Nessa: Ok, fine. I’ll trust you. I mean, after all, you’re only facing a lunatic in his own kind of match-
James: Will you listen to yourself?! I have a match against THOMPSON ORION this week. In case you haven’t heard, he’s no pushover.
Nessa: I know, I know, but your life isn’t on the line in this match.
James: My life is on the line in every match, Nessa.
Nessa: Ugh.
James: Orion’s been training in Japan. He got a title in a few weeks since his return. He’s no laughing matter. He could possibly keep me from getting to my match with Freeze.
Nessa: I’m almost hoping he does.
Silence.
James: You can NOT be serious.
Nessa: I’d rather you have a sprained ankle than a sprained NECK.
James sits down next to Nessa.
James: You’re not getting it. Orion can be just as dangerous as Freeze.
Nessa: He has no reason to be. To him you’re probably just another match. His title isn’t even on the line.
Silence.
James: Ok, you have a point. But I still have to give it my all. This is for the fans, after all-
All of a sudden, James’ cell phone starts ringing.
James: It’s Thomas.
Nessa: I was just leaving, anyway.
Nessa gets up, as does James. James picks up her club and hands it to her, but she shoves it into his chest and leaves. James sighs as he picks up the phone.
James: Williams is Gay Inc, Whitman speaking?
Thomas: Nice one. Hey, dude, we found a great place to chill out. Chicago. Called Hangge Uppe. Come on over to the hotel and we’ll all go.
James: Alright. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.
Thomas: Dude, did I just hear someone scream?
James ends the call and heads towards the exit.
Nessa: … yup.
Nessa hits the ball and it bounces off a casket.
James Whitman and the JESTers’ manager, Nessa Petrova, are playing miniature golf in a funeral home. Ahlgrims Funeral Parlor (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/ILPALgolf.html), to be more precise, where it’s actually encouraged.
James: I’ve faced Orion before and won, but I mean technically… That was different, a three man tag match.
Nessa: It was, wasn’t it? Your turn.
James sizes up the ball and goes to hits but is startled by a spooky scream and accidentally bounces the ball off a tombstone as Nessa chuckles.
James: You know that’s the first time I heard you laugh this week?
Nessa sighs and starts walking towards the ball.
James: Look, will you just tell me what’s going on? Where in Illinois, for God’s sake. ILLINOIS! They have cars on a spike (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/tnews/NewsItemDisplay.php?Tip_AttrId==16098), a superman museum (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/attract/ILMETsuper.html), and world’s largest catsup bottle (http://www.roadsideamerica.com/sights/sightstory.php?tip_AttrId==2922)!
Nessa: You really wanna know what’s going on?
James: Would I have asked otherwise?
Nessa: Three words. Ice box casket.
James: Oh, COME ON! I told you already, I know what I’m doing! Will you TRUST me?!
Nessa drops her club and sits down on a closed casket.
Nessa: Ok, fine. I’ll trust you. I mean, after all, you’re only facing a lunatic in his own kind of match-
James: Will you listen to yourself?! I have a match against THOMPSON ORION this week. In case you haven’t heard, he’s no pushover.
Nessa: I know, I know, but your life isn’t on the line in this match.
James: My life is on the line in every match, Nessa.
Nessa: Ugh.
James: Orion’s been training in Japan. He got a title in a few weeks since his return. He’s no laughing matter. He could possibly keep me from getting to my match with Freeze.
Nessa: I’m almost hoping he does.
Silence.
James: You can NOT be serious.
Nessa: I’d rather you have a sprained ankle than a sprained NECK.
James sits down next to Nessa.
James: You’re not getting it. Orion can be just as dangerous as Freeze.
Nessa: He has no reason to be. To him you’re probably just another match. His title isn’t even on the line.
Silence.
James: Ok, you have a point. But I still have to give it my all. This is for the fans, after all-
All of a sudden, James’ cell phone starts ringing.
James: It’s Thomas.
Nessa: I was just leaving, anyway.
Nessa gets up, as does James. James picks up her club and hands it to her, but she shoves it into his chest and leaves. James sighs as he picks up the phone.
James: Williams is Gay Inc, Whitman speaking?
Thomas: Nice one. Hey, dude, we found a great place to chill out. Chicago. Called Hangge Uppe. Come on over to the hotel and we’ll all go.
James: Alright. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.
Thomas: Dude, did I just hear someone scream?
James ends the call and heads towards the exit.