The Nest Bar & Grill
Sylvester, Georgia
Off Camera
The temperature in Sylvester, Georgia was slowly beginning to drop as a dark blue Kawasaki Ninja 300 is still cruising down the highway. The rider is wearing a fitted black leather jacket over a dark black vest with faded dark jeans and black fingerless gloves. The traffic itself wasn’t that horrible as the rider was zipping through it while trying very hard not to cause a pile up. Forty five minutes later, the rider pulls into the parking lot of The Nest. A tall light skinned man with a full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm steps out onto the front porch. The man reaches into the front pocket of his vest and pulls out a pack of 305 filter cigars. He bangs the bottom of the pack on the palm of his hand before pulling one out and sticking it into his mouth. The rider cuts the engine off on her bike before removing the helmet. Her two tone hair falls down her back as she rummages her hand through each strand. “Is that all you can do Talon?” she jokingly asks while kicking the kickstand out and leaning the bike. “Oh shut the fuck up Nailz,” he answers with a sarcastic tone. They both share a laugh before she swings her leg off the bike and stands straight up. “Where’s SoHo?” the man asks her as she steps up onto the wooden porch. Nailz looks behind while shrugging her shoulders. “I don’t know Talon,” she answers truthfully. Talon lights up his cigar and walks further down the porch as she steps through one of the double doors.
The Nest wasn’t quite open to the public as she stepped up toward the bar. “Yo, Beak, get me a drink,” she demanded slightly. A slender man steps out from the back room as he grabs a towel to wipe his hands off. Beak, who stood around five feet eleven inches tall, had both of his arms full of tattoos. His dark brown hair was slicked back as he grabbed a bottle of Miller Lite and popped the top off with the boar’s head behind the bar. “Good morning Nailz,” he tells her while placing the bottle onto the bar top. “Beak,” she says softly before taking a long sip of her beer. Beak returns to the back room as Nailz remains standing next to the bar. “Nailz,” a voice rings out as she looks over her shoulder. A muscular white man is sitting at one of the poker tables with a muscular black man and a slender latino man sitting at the same table. “I can’t believe what I am seeing right now,” she says surprisingly as she moves away from the bar. “When did you get out of jail Eight Ball?” she asks. “I got out two days ago thanks to Xylo,” he says with a smile.
Nailz continues to drink her beer as another muscular man steps out of a room located near the back of the bar. A young lady with flowing red hair appears to be walking towards the bar as the man sees Nailz. “Good morning Nailz,” the man says while moving across the floor towards the group by the poker table. “Good Morning Kilo,” she greets back. “Have you spoken to Tabor yet?” asks Kilo. Nailz shakes her head while taking a sip of her beer. “Kilo, you know no one speaks to Tabor before he has his coffee and bacon,” Eight Ball reminds Kilo as he shuffles the deck of cards in his hand. “Plus, he is waiting to hear from SoHo,” adds Suarez. Both Kilo and Nailz look toward Suarez with puzzling looks on their faces. “Why?” asks Nailz.
Suarez, a native of Southern California, was one of three latino members of the club. He had been brought into the club by Dion. “I’m not at liberty to say,” Suarez answers.
Charlie Jones’ Residence
Lake Park, Georgia
Off Camera
Lake Park is a quiet community in Lowndes County. It also happens to be the hometown of Charlie Jones. Charlie, who’s codename used to be Harlo, had been contemplating leaving the Black Eagles after getting picked by the local police for multiple parking violations. His conscience was beginning to become clouded. Charlie is looking out of his front window with a cup of coffee in one hand while his other hand is stuck inside his pocket. He is sipping on his coffee when a Harley Davidson 2020 Iron 883 is seen coming down the driveway. A small gulp goes down his throat as he walks over toward the front door. Charlie opens the door and steps out onto the small front porch. The motorcycle slowly comes to a halt as Charlie leans against one of the pillars holding up the roof.
“I wasn’t expecting to see you SoHo,” he says in between coffee sips. SoHo slings his leg over the bike while looking directly towards his former colleague. “I rather not be here,” he says honestly. Charlie nods his head in agreement as SoHo makes his way toward the porch. “Before you do it, I have to know who is ordering this,” he wonders with a slight smirk on his face. SoHo stops in his tracks while looking at the man standing on his porch. “What’s with that fucking look on your face?” SoHo asks directly. Charlie continues to smirk while sipping on his morning coffee. Off in the distance, a silver van is sitting with three men dressed in everyday attire. One man is holding a pair of headphones next to his ear as the others are checking over their weapons. “This better fucking work,” one of the men says while covering the mouth piece. “It should if this guy is as squirrely as Charlie claims,” the other man says in response.
SoHo doesn’t move while keeping his hands in view. “I don’t know what’s with that smirk but something seems off,” he says while slowly moving back towards his motorcycle. Charlie knows that SoHo isn’t going to say anything that will give the men in the van anything. “Where are you going SoHo?” asks Charlie. SoHo doesn’t answer right away as he swings his leg back over his motorcycle. “Something doesn’t smell right Harlo. It smells like you got pigs running around,” he states while turning his bike on and revving the engine. “You know I love my bacon,” Charlie fires back as SoHo puts the bike into reverse before peeling out of the driveway. Charlie shakes his head as the men in the van step out of it. “I thought you said he would squeal,” one of the men says. Charlie looks at him and shakes his head. “SoHo is way too smart for that,” he replies while continuing to sip on his coffee.
After SoHo gets out of sight, he stops before getting onto the highway. He pulls out his cell phone and dials Tabor’s phone number. “Is it done?” he asks grimly. “Tabor, it smelt like pigs around his place,” SoHo responds as a loud grunt echoes through the phone. “Alright, come to the tavern and we will come up with a new plan,” Tabor says before hanging up the phone. SoHo takes a minute to catch his breath before popping the memory card out of his phone and snapping it in half. He pulls out onto the highway while heading towards The Nest.
The Nest Tavern
Sylvester, Georgia
Off Camera
It’s probably around five in the afternoon when one of the doors just off the upstairs landing opens as a fairly large black man steps out followed by two men equal his size. The man is leading the other two down the staircase as they look at the rest of the club. “Look,” Eight Ball says silently while tilting his head towards the staircase. Each person at the poker table, turns their head slowly before looking back at each other. No words are said as the large white man points his fingers at the poker table and at Beak. “Meeting,” the man bellows out in a deep voice. Every person at the poker table stands up and leaves the table with their game still sitting there. Beak hands a bar towel towards one of the bartenders before grabbing his vest and walking towards the large back room.
Tabor, the club’s vice president, is standing near the front as everyone takes a seat. “I’m sorry to keep you guys waiting,” he says first as everyone remains silent. “For the past few months, Skull, Zagon and myself have been trying to keep a little matter quiet but I don’t think we can keep it quiet anymore,” Tabor says as his anger builds slowly. “What seems to be the problem?” Suarez asks politely as Tabor looks at him. “We got ourselves a snitch,” he answers firmly. The group starts talking amongst themselves as Tabor allows them to do so for a few minutes. “Until Chainz gives us the order, we will not do anything about the snitch,” Tabor says in a grim tone. “I will not divulge this person’s name but I will in private if you want to know,” he states firmly.
“Where is SoHo?” Nailz asks bluntly. “He will be here shortly. He was doing a task that I gave him,” Tabor vaguely answers as Nailz looks at him with a look that could kill. “We have a shipment coming into town from Las Vegas,” Skull mentions as the room lights up. “So Beak and Suarez, you two will need to organize the warehouse so we can store it. Eight Ball, start looking for buyers,” Skull says as Tabor is looking at Nailz. Nailz notices this but doesn’t say a word. “We are also expecting a shipment from Mexico,” Zagon states as Tabor nods his head. “Alright people, let’s get to work,” he says while motioning for Nailz to stay behind. Everyone leaves the room while chatting amongst themselves. Zagon closes the door behind him as Tabor is sitting on top of a table.
“What the hell was that about Tabor?” Nailz questioned him. “I sent SoHo to try and scare Harlo from talking but something went wrong,” he starts to explain. Nailz doesn’t say a word as she looks coldly at Tabor. “SoHo said the place smelt like pigs,” Tabor says as Nailz smiles. She knew her husband wouldn’t do anything with cops around. “Does Chainz know?” Nailz asks Tabor. Tabor shakes his head. “No,” he says without hesitation. Nailz widens her eyes as Tabor hasn’t notified the president. “Dontcha think you should mention it to him. He is your brother after all,” Nailz replies as Tabor hangs his head down. “Don’t remind me,” he growls. “What kind of shipments are we getting?” she asks, trying to change the subject. “Skull knows something about the first shipment but won’t share any information,” answers Tabor.
Awkward silence comes between the two until Tabor’s phone goes off. He pulls it out from his breast pocket and gulps at the name. “Fuck me sideways,” he says while showing his phone towards Nailz. “I’ll see myself out,” is all she tells him while patting him on the back. She heads for the door when Tabor finally answers the phone. “Hey big brother,” he says as Nailz steps over the threshold and closes the door behind her. The last thing she needed to hear was Tabor getting his ass chewed out by his older brother.
Video Journal Entry #2
Two weeks ago, I made my debut for Sin City Wrestling where I faced off against Miles Kasey. I will admit, the kid has some talent but his attitude is what cost him. I told him that I would make an example out of him and damn I had fun doing it. My phone blew up after Climax Control aired and all of my pals back in Valdosta were so excited to see me challenging myself on the big stage. I couldn’t tell you how many fans walked up to me while I was just taking a stroll down the strip. I don’t bother with social media since it’s usually filled with useless drama. I don’t need drama. If I want drama then I will watch it on television. Otherwise, keep all that nonsense to your fucking selves.
I had hopes of facing lesser talents in my second match but I guess the bosses were impressed with my performance. How can you not be impressed with me? I am built like a powerhouse who can move like a cruiserweight but sock you in the mouth when I feel like it. Miles found out first hand at how impressive I truly am once I’m inside the ring. I don’t give two shits about the audience. I could care less about the morons who comment on my matches. All I care about is winning matches and putting myself further up the card.
That brings me to my opponent this Sunday. Austin James Mercer. I would run down his accomplishments but it would appear he does that every fucking time he opens that shit hole he calls a mouth. The guy hasn’t been relevant since he got his ass handed to him by Senor Vinnie. Ever since that day, you have been sulking in the back not able to do a damn thing until the stunt pulled by J2H and Caleb Storms.
I agree with you. Caleb Storms is a damn joke but so are you Austin. I mean you walk around here like you are god’s gift to professional wrestling. I’m sorry if I don’t bow down before your stupidness and kiss your fucking ass. If you think I’m going to be scared of you then you can keep on walking towards the unemployment line. Because as far as I am concerned, the only thing scary about you is probably your breath. I saw what you did to Caleb Storms. It was classless all the fucking way. You talk about Wolfslair like it’s the best faction in all of Sin City Wrestling. I’m not impressed by a group of crybabies who can’t win a match to save their damn life.
Now you want to talk about making a statement, would it be more of a statement if I kicked your sorry ass all over that ring. Would it be disrespectful for me to leave your ass bleeding in the middle of that ring? If you think this is my first rodeo with a worthless piece of human garbage then you are in for a rude awakening. All I have heard come out of your mouth is what you want to do but that’s not going to happen. Because I don’t fear you. You might be able to intimidate Lachlan Kane or Caleb Storms but that shit ain’t going to work on me. Why? Because it’s a pathetic attempt to make yourself relevant.
I heard you. You think I am beneath you. Look pal, as I can see it. You are not the world champion nor are you the internet champion. You are a disgruntled former champion who can’t handle losing so what do you do. You throw a temper tantrum like a five year old and expect everyone to cater to you. Unfortunately, you are running into the wrong person. You see, I have my own goals in this company to accomplish and you are standing in my way. Now don’t let the smile on my face fool you, once that bell sounds I am all business. You can take it however you want to but in my opinion you shouldn’t take me lightly. You shouldn’t think that I am some pushover.
Miles Kasey had that same thought and look at what happened to him. I nearly jarred his spine through his body. Imagine if that happens to Miles just think at what carnage I could do to you. You call yourself the Alpha male but yet you haven’t proved it. Miles only got a sliver of what I can do in the ring. Some might call me arrogant but in my mind it’s confidence. Some might think I’m biting off more than I can chew but all I see is someone who can propel me to greater things. I don’t see the alpha male Austin. I see a crybaby who is going to be looking up at the lights after I jar your spine or crush your skull.
You have no idea what is coming your way on Sunday. My focus is solely on you. I’m not worried about later in the show. All I care about is sending you back to the bottom. So you can either go hard or go home. As for me, I plan on hitting you harder than you’ve ever been hit before. It’s time. It’s time. It’s Mister Incredible time.
