Magical mystery brain damage tour

Gary headed home to martial some resources for our trip to Mexico.  I headed to a show in Imperial. 

I called 42561 to see if she would help with whatever Gary has planned.  She didn’t answer.  I decided not to call the Professor.  Something feels wrong about him now that I know Gary’s story.  I feel like there’s stuff the Professor isn’t telling me.  I don’t think the Professor would help anyway.  And Mr. Petticord doesn’t have a phone.  I don’t have a deep roster of magic allies.

The show didn’t go great.  I’m pretty good at minding my own business.  But I’m not the best at it. 

There’s this dude that used to be a shitty actor, that is now an okay wrestler.  I think his claim to fame was being in Deathblow 3 – The Final Deathblow.  It’s kind of a sport for a certain flavor of “real” wrestlers to be a shitstain to him even though he works as hard as anyone and loves wrestling. 

Actor was working a guy who’s a 100% unoriginal Stone Cold rip-off and not only did fake Stone Cold beat the shit out of actor boy for real, he had his two buddies come to the ring and do the same.  I fucking hate that shit.  You want to be a tough guy be a tough guy.   Beating up people that can’t fight back doesn’t make you tough.  That makes you the weakest fucking loser in the world.

Not content with a beating, backstage fake SC and his two asshole buddies were getting on actor-boy while he was trying to fucking towel off the blood leaking out of his head.  His wife was there and they were screaming at her too.   I got involved.  Which was a pretty stupid thing to do, I admit. 

While we were jawing, I may have said something along the lines of “Go ahead and hit me, I know you don’t have any problems hitting women, you fucking wife-beating fucking rapist mother fucking piece of shit.”

If Stew and a couple other guys hadn’t been there to back them down, I think there’s a good chance they would have jumped me. 

After all that craziness, I was hanging out with Stew in my van when a couple guys in suits came up.  I figured they were promoters who were going to make me apologize to fake SC or yell at me or something.  But they said they wanted me to work for them in Phoenix.  I asked what dates and they said they wanted to sign me to a contract.  I had my phone in my hand looking at my schedule and it didn’t sink in what they were saying.  I said that I had a couple dates open next month.

Stew laughed and said “They’re trying to hire you love.”

I was speechless.  I must have looked like a fish flopping around on a dock.  They gave me some papers to look over.  I called Kim and Doug both and rambled incoherently.  Doug told me if I liked the terms to sign.  Kim told me that contracts don’t mean dick so I might as well sign. 

I must have read through it fifty times.  It’s a 7 month contract, which is weird. If not a year, why wouldn’t you do 6 months?  Why 7?  The pay is $3500 a month.  I may be working as many as 4 matches a week but I get paid even if they don’t use me.  There was some stuff about merchandise and advertising money, but I can’t imagine that will be relevant.  I can work other shows if I have time.  There’s not much work out that way though.

I signed on the dotted line.  Once I finish up my bookings I start a job with Phoenix Powerslam Wrestling.  Doesn’t seem real.

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