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- OOC: This roleplay was my last effort posted in Galveston Island Wrestling before it closed. It serves here a character development purpose, to introduce Krueger to the new crowd as I believe it's realistic that they would know something about him having been on the circuit for a while.
Some wrestlers prepare for the biggest match of their life with drugs in seedy hotel rooms, some with brawls in alleyways to fire them up and others by putting in a shift down at the docks overlooking water lapping against the harbour. Clay Krueger’s method of preparation has always been a little odd for the huge matches. Prior to winning the Dual Crown Championship in Japan, he sat alone in the dark in the lotus position in the middle of his original trainer’s dojo for an entire night. Prior to winning the NEXT Wrestling Alliance Heavyweight Championship match in England, he read poetry at Covent Garden in London to literary plaudits, an occurrence for which he was shortlisted for a writer’s prize. For his first (and what would be his last) title shot in Galveston Island, Clay has chosen quiet contemplation in a bar just around the corner from the arena but our story, begins some miles away in Odessa, Texas.
The Warnock sisters had been raised as two normal girls in Odessa, a growing town in West Texas. They weren’t mistreated by anybody, parents hadn’t molested either them or teachers abused either sister. They grew up a home filled with nothing but caring and love. Their father, a fireman and their mother a librarian. The two sisters went to parks on Saturday and participated in Sunday school. Their family vacations were to various tourist locations across the state and even into nearby New Mexico for a memorable trip to Angel Fire. Normal. Just like every other family you could meet. Perfectly normal.
Jezebel Warnock, a year or so younger than her sister, imagined that it was absolutely shocking to a population of less than 250,000 that she and her older sister, Magdalene, set fire to their family home in the process murdering their parents. She enjoyed the outrage and outcry amongst the good people of Odessa. She enjoyed the shock on the face of her parents as they perished in the fire, betrayed by their own kin.
Sauntering around a gas station with a Colt .45 tucked into the waist of her jeans, Jezebel plucks a candy bar from the shelf, tears it open and takes a bite. She then discards the remainder, tossing it aside like a bad habit. She hadn’t looked up to check if the attendant had reacted or called the police, she hadn’t needed to because she was safe. She knew this because right at this time the male attendant and one woman who had been in the gas station were being tied up in a back room by her loving sister. She watched as Magdalene poured the contents of the till into a bag. The score wasn’t much, barely several hundred but that wasn’t the point. The point was the feeling, the rush and the thrill. Jezebel recalled the expression of the attendant as she flashed him and Magdalene had blasted him across the head with a Smith & Wesson Bodyguard .38 Special. Small and powerful, they way she likes it.
Magdalene: “Time to go.”The sisters moved almost military-like in line towards a store room at the back of the gas station, one that was signed for ‘Employees Only’ but now only housed the attendant and the patron lay on the floor, both with their hands tied behind their backs and the aging attendant bleeding from a cut somewhere in his hairline. The crimson drips slowly onto the floor.
Magdalene: “Is there any more money? Tell me now.”Attendant: “You’ve got it all, I swear, please don’t hurt us.”The man somewhere in his fifties is practically sobbing and that causes Jezebel to smirk. Magdalene bends down onto one knee with an emotionless face hovering over the attendant’s bobbing head. For the first time we see the face of the female customer, a gorgeous young blonde, as she arches her neck ever so slightly to not be detected by these murderers and her eyes scramble around for any salvation.
Magdalene: “And therein lies the rub, old timer. We forgot to wear our masks so you’ve seen our faces. Hell, you’ve seen my sister’s chest. I think you see how we have a problem.”Jezebel: “Aw shucks, we have to kill ‘em.”She accentuates the word ‘have’ which of course is a created need, they could have tied their hair up and worn masks but they chose not to. The credo being that they are ‘too pretty’ to hide their features. In actuality they aren’t pretty but they aren’t ugly either, the irony is that they look absolutely average. Their chests aren’t heaving, their lips aren’t too pouty or too thin. The attendant begins to protest that they won’t say a thing but he’s stopped in mid-sentence by a bullet being driven through him. The tip of Magdalene’s gun smokes as the attendant slumps dead onto the blood-stained floor. The girl gasps in horror as her fate appears decided. Magdalene drags her up to her knees and holds the gun to her forehead. The hostage silently closes her eyes in acceptance of her fate. She waits for the shot but none comes.
Jezebel: “Hold on!”Jezebel places her hand on the gun and lowers it away from the pretty girl.
Magdalene: “You’re not serious?”Jezebel: “She’s cute. I want to keep her.”Magdalene: “Oh, you want a pet?”Jezebel grins at the thought of having her fun with the young girl later on to prolong the high of the crime spree. Magdalene shrugs and lets Jezebel drag her along behind them by the hair. Magdalene searches through the pockets of Jezebel’s new pet for her keys and they head out onto the forecourt to the girl’s own car. Jezebel cops a feel of her ass before they toss her into the boot.
Jezebel: “She’ll be as quiet as a little mouse, Mags.”Magdalene: “She better be. If she’s not, I’m gonna splatter fuckin’ cherry pie all over the sidewalk and then you’ll have nothing to play with.”Jezebel smiles to herself, allowing her mind to wander to the inevitable events of the night, where Jezebel will abuse and eventually kill the beautiful young woman all in the name of a cheap thrill. They clamber into the car, express disgust over the girl’s decorations (a hanging pair of pink fuzzy dice being their main source of amusement) and speed out of the gas station. Magdalene looks in her rear-view mirror to examine the scene of death they have left behind.
After a trip right across the Lone Star State and even the Galveston Causeway (which is far less impressive than the Humber bridge in Kingston upon Hull), the Warnock sisters peel off into the parking lot of a small bar. It’s late, dark and must be time to locate a hotel - one with a back entrance to ensure they can smuggle Jezebel’s pet inside unseen. Jezebel’s tapping of the dashboard is bothering her sister, Jezebel has hardly thought of anything other than her girl in the boot and best of all she saw her look in the gas station, that acceptance of what was to come. Jezebel liked that, it showed she was broken in already but Jezebel would still make her howl. Something, though, is nagging at Jez.
Jezebel: “This meetin’ is a mistake.”Silence from the driver’s side of the car. Magdalene is carefully considering her surroundings, checking the views and the sight-lines. Her head bobs and weaves as she checks all around to ensure their safety, one hand still on the wheel in case of a quick evacuation. She’s even parked facing the same way she came in, Mags reads her Tom Clancy.
Jezebel: “Our luck has to run out at some point. Could be tonight.”Magdalene: “I don’t think so.”Jezebel: “Can we trust this guy? You’re sure we can trust ‘im?”Magdalene: “You know I don’t trust anyone but he’s as close as it gets. He’s so scared of me that even if he was given a pull, he would conveniently forget about us in a heartbeat. Stop being paranoid.”Mags has made her decision, having seen nothing suspicious she moves her hand to the door handle and prepares to pull it.
Magdalene: “We’re going inside.”Jezebel: “Ok… wait… is that the right move? We go in to wait for him and get taken down by the cops? Smart move is to wait here till he shows up, even I know that.”Magdalene flashes a smile to her sister and pats her on the shoulder. A Tom Clancy reader she may be but getting caught in the stolen car isn’t part of the plans. Inside the bar with its wide space she can establish both a position of defence and an exit route.
Magdalene: “Nobody’s onto us. We need these fake passports to get out of the country then we can relax on the other side of the world before coming back for more. You’ve just gotta remember your ABC’s.”Jezebel: “Huh?”Magdalene: “Always Be Cool.”They step out of the car and Jezebel takes a moment to hold her ear over the car trunk to ensure her pet is still quiet. Not content, she opens the trunk enough to knock her hostage out with the handle of her gun. She places it back in the waistline of her jeans as she follows Magdalene into the bar, which at first glance is extraordinarily quiet but on reflection it’s probably a typical setting for Galveston city in the dead of night. Maintaining her surveillance techniques, Magdalene surveys the bar as she strides in. She notes only three people in the premises. The first is a rather rotund chef visible through the serving hatch as identified by his whites and spatula in hand as he pokes lukewarm food around a grill. The second is the waitress, a brunette with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Another beautiful girl and this is not lost on Jezebel, who has to stop herself whistling and licking her lips. The third person in this bar looks to be the only other customer present. He’s a silver fox wearing a pair of faded jeans, Brogan work boots, a felt city cowboy hat on his head and a plain black leather jacket. He’s sat leaning on the bar from one of those wood and metal swivel stools. He’s reading what appears to be a programme or glossy magazine promoting some upcoming athletic event while holding a glass of coke. The sisters make their way over to a booth beside a window with a good view of the entrance door and the waitress soon approaches.
Waitress: “What can I get for you?”Magdalene checks for movement in the shadows outside through the window as Jezebel can’t take her eyes off the waitress, which serves to make the scene slightly uncomfortable.
Magdalene: “Start with a beer.”Jezebel: “I’ll have one too…”She reads the waitress’ nametag with great interest and makes her response a little more personal.
Jezebel: “… Alex.”Waitress: “Sure thing ladies, I’ll bring them over and then see if you’d like to eat.”The waitress goes back to the bar to pour their drinks and it’s not lost on her that her patter works better with leering old guys, it makes her feel odd to use that same winning smile on two obviously-related females, even if one of them is seemingly obsessed with her cleavage. That’s also been noticed by Mags and she casts an accusing glare at her sibling.
Magdalene: “You remember the gas station? Stopped me from killing that girl in the trunk? I want some chow and you’re creeping her out. Behave yourself.”Alex, the waitress with the name steaming with GIW connotations, returns with two jugs of beer and places them down in front of the Warnock sisters. She leaves them with a menu each to peruse.
Jezebel: “Maybe I want to trade up. I can slot the one in the trunk and replace her with the lovely Alex.”Magdalene’s next harsh statement is made in a hushed tone and designed to be the end of that discussion. She takes a big swig of her beer and encourages Jezebel to do the same.
Magdalene: “I say again, behave yours-”Fellow Customer: “You girls just passing through or you in town for the rasslin’?”The interruption comes without the customer at the bar turning his head. He’s put the magazine down but there’s no movement to look towards the Warnock sisters. He sips his soft drink in a fairly normal manner, this alerts the girls especially as the waitress has conveniently cleared a table and taken the contents into the kitchen. Jezebel frowns to herself as Magdalene studies the man, there’s something about this guy that has set her senses tingling, the hair on the back of her neck is bolt upright. His behaviour just isn’t right but she can’t put her finger on why.
Magdalene: “Oh yeah? What difference does it make to you? You just finish your drink and mind your own damn business.”Fellow Customer: “And what if I’m prepared to make it my business?”He still hasn’t turned around but he does place his glass down on the counter, his head holding still looking forward and most of his features are out of sight. Magdalene makes a subtle hand signal to Jezebel, who snakes her hand around her back to place her fingers on her firearm. Jezebel feels funny, a little dizzy and out of it just for a moment - as if the world had just spun around on its axis too fast. Jezebel’s eyes glaze over for a couple of seconds before she snaps out of it. Magdalene’s eyes go back to the window and she makes a little show of it as she stoops to check the parking lot. Other than their stolen car, she sees only two other vehicles and the lot is open plan so there can’t be any shenanigans. Three people inside, two cars… sounds about right. No SWAT team roaming in the darkness, no police planning to raid. Nobody had followed them, nobody was coming. Mags is content at that but she can’t shake off the base in this man’s voice, he’s eerily calm and that
doesn’t sound right. Magdalene has got a feeling like he might ‘High Noon’ it, although that didn’t end well for their equivalents, Frank & Ben Miller. Magdalene shuffles to the end of the booth as the sense of an impending Gunfight at the O.K. Corral lingers in the air. She reaches for her own weapon underneath the table.
Magdalene: “You a cop, cowboy?”Fellow Customer: “No.”Magdalene: “Welcoming committee?”Fellow Customer: “No.”The guy at the bar erupts in a spontaneous cackle after denying his status as either police or neighbourhood watch. Jezebel has become increasingly angry at this guy’s defiance and tugs the gun free from her jeans. It levitates in the air around her lower back as she places her other hand on the edge of the table, ready to spring forward.
Jezebel: “You find something funny, asshole?”Fellow Customer: “Now that you ask, I think of myself as more of a shepherd.”The Warnock sisters exchange confused glances. He doesn’t look like a shepherd in his jeans and leather jacket.
Jezebel: “What the fuck are you talking about?”The customer now slowly and casually turns his body to the two murderers so he’s leaning back on the bar, now we see his face and he tips the cowboy backwards from his head revealing his identity. His face contains a weathered grey beard and his eyes are burning with contempt.
Krueger: “I keep the wolves away.”End.
