Post by Director of Island Activities on Jun 7, 2022 10:09:57 GMT -5
A boat is seen heading to the island from a distance, slowly. Very slowly. There isn’t anything fancy about this boat, it’s just your typical V-Bottom fishing boat that seems to become closer and closer with each wave in the ocean. It finally washes up near shore and a man rolls out of the boat and into the water. He’s able to crawl himself up to shore turns himself over on the beach. He looks up towards the sun and that’s when we are able to see it’s American Tommy!
Tommy, quite frankly, looks like absolute shit. Beneath the tattered shirt that is wrapped around the top of his head, you can see that his hair is long and his beard is full and bushy. His khakis are ripped and torn, with one pant leg shortened all the way up to the knee and he has one sock. If smells had a look to them it would be American Tommy at this very moment. He grabs the water bottle from his waistband and opens it up, but when he puts it to his mouth there isn’t anything left. He sighs and throws it on the beach next to him. Tommy put his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
The last we saw of Tommy he was pining over Harry Styles and the critically acclaimed album the mentioned released and now he is washing up on shore - near death? This isn’t the strictly pop music listening, wrestling superstar that we have all grown to love. Or hate. Well, mostly hate. His girlfriend left without even a goodbye. Worse of all, she left that stupid dog for him to take care of. Ever since he seems to be spiraling out of control with a steady diet of Busch Light, cotton candy, hookers, and the “occasional” line of cocaine. Just every “now and then” it’s not like Tommy would ever get addicted to something like that.
Haha.
Tommy looks up at the Heavens and raises his arms as if he’s embracing them.
“Just take me now. I’m ready!”
Behind him, Tommy can hear footsteps nearing him and a familiar, hillbilly chuckle can be heard. The footsteps stop right in front of him and Tommy is now looking right at Perry Wallace. If Tommy didn’t want to die before, he certainly does now. Perry is looking like a billboard for a retirement home with his fit and has a drink in his hand, probably piss.
“Did you get lost after dropping your cinderblock-wrapped girlfriend’s body into the ocean?”
“Oh, god. I went to hell didn’t I!”
A voice speaks behind him.
“Not yet…”
Wrigley walks around and stands next to Perry Wallace.
“You got it?”
Perry hands Wrigley some papers with a smile on his face. Wrigley looks them over and reveals it’s Tommy’s lifetime contract from 4CW. They shake hands and Wrigley reaches his hand out to Tommy.
“Welcome to Wrestle Island!”
To be continued…
Tommy, quite frankly, looks like absolute shit. Beneath the tattered shirt that is wrapped around the top of his head, you can see that his hair is long and his beard is full and bushy. His khakis are ripped and torn, with one pant leg shortened all the way up to the knee and he has one sock. If smells had a look to them it would be American Tommy at this very moment. He grabs the water bottle from his waistband and opens it up, but when he puts it to his mouth there isn’t anything left. He sighs and throws it on the beach next to him. Tommy put his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.
The last we saw of Tommy he was pining over Harry Styles and the critically acclaimed album the mentioned released and now he is washing up on shore - near death? This isn’t the strictly pop music listening, wrestling superstar that we have all grown to love. Or hate. Well, mostly hate. His girlfriend left without even a goodbye. Worse of all, she left that stupid dog for him to take care of. Ever since he seems to be spiraling out of control with a steady diet of Busch Light, cotton candy, hookers, and the “occasional” line of cocaine. Just every “now and then” it’s not like Tommy would ever get addicted to something like that.
Haha.
Tommy looks up at the Heavens and raises his arms as if he’s embracing them.
“Just take me now. I’m ready!”
Behind him, Tommy can hear footsteps nearing him and a familiar, hillbilly chuckle can be heard. The footsteps stop right in front of him and Tommy is now looking right at Perry Wallace. If Tommy didn’t want to die before, he certainly does now. Perry is looking like a billboard for a retirement home with his fit and has a drink in his hand, probably piss.
“Did you get lost after dropping your cinderblock-wrapped girlfriend’s body into the ocean?”
“Oh, god. I went to hell didn’t I!”
A voice speaks behind him.
“Not yet…”
Wrigley walks around and stands next to Perry Wallace.
“You got it?”
Perry hands Wrigley some papers with a smile on his face. Wrigley looks them over and reveals it’s Tommy’s lifetime contract from 4CW. They shake hands and Wrigley reaches his hand out to Tommy.
“Welcome to Wrestle Island!”
To be continued…