Post by Freakke on Apr 7, 2010 10:33:52 GMT -6
<<Ravenwood, PA 1992>>
Charlie Smiles and his grandson, who had been named after him, were sitting outside of his home on a bench he had just finished building. The two of them sat looking at the house and the younger Charlie had been swinging his legs, getting antsy like all ten year olds do. His grandfather noticed this.
"You know this house is gonna be yours right? You'll never have to worry about it, not for a hundred years."
The boy looked up to the old man and said nothing. He didn't talk a lot. When he did, it was extremely short and to the point.
"Every secret in it will be yours too."
"Secrets?"
The grandfather smiled as he knew it would pique interest. The boy was fascinated by secrets. He even found a few, but when he didn't want the boy to go somewhere or do something, Charlie Smiles put a clown up. The boy was afraid of clowns.
"Yep. I'll show you all of them. I told you that a circus helped me build it right? Friends I had from when I was Chuckling Charlie then the Ringmaster."
The boy nodded and looked at the house. It looked like it was old but he knew better. It was only as old as he was. Not much more.
"Come on. I'll show you a really neat one."
=============================================
<<Ravenwood, PA 2010>>
Freakke was cooking in his kitchen as the camera started to roll. He was frying something in a pan and cutting carrots on his cutting board. He waved to the camera acknowledging it but his eyes weren't taken off of preparing the food.
"Come in and take a seat. I'm almost done."
He scraped the chopped carrot into a pot and put the lid back on it. He took his apron off and set it down behind himself.
"Naturally, your here to talk about my match on Friday. I'm not sure what to make of Harold. Is he really crazy? Do I have to worry about him going all Michael Myers on me this week? Who knows. I do know I need get the chicken of the burner though."
He turned around and started to stir the frying pan's contents. He brought the pan over and set it down on the cutting board. In it were bits of chicken he'd sliced and fried.
"Hold on a second, I need to grab something."
He left the room and a black Lab came in and started to sniff at the chicken. The dog put its front paws on the counter and started to eat some of the chicken. It dropped down but didn't come from behind the counter. Freakke came back but didn't see the dog. He had a few seasonings in his hands. He looked at the chicken, most of which was still there but he seemed to notice some was still missing.
"...anyways. I'm not so worried about it. Just another match. Harold's seems harmless enough. I know very little about his 'other-half'. From what I hear though, he ain't any better at wrestling so I'm good. No problem this week."
Freakke shrugged and turned around to put the spices of the counter. As he did the dog's head came out of the pot and it started to eat some more of the chicken. It stopped and disappeared back into the pot, making only a small noise. Freakke turned around and looked at the chicken again. This time he started looking around but still didn't see anything. He even looked in the pot but didn't find anything.
"I know how to beat guys like that. Brawlers tend not to use their head too much unless they are thinking about headbutting you. They have to think first though. Beating a guy like him is easy. Be quick or be dead. Work smarter not harder. Don't get hit. No problem. Yeah, I'm not worried about this match. Its only one guy."
He almost turned around but kept his eye on the pot. As he blindly reached for something, the dog popped up from behind him and started to chow down on the chicken again. Freakke turned around but it had already fled to the other room. He looked down at the chicken and rubbed his eyes, although his face paint did not smear.
"Maybe I'm going crazy...Anyways, Friday Night Suspense. I don't care whose crazy, psychotic, or just in need of time out, I can come out on top. I can and will win. Plain and simple. I'm not afraid of some nutter. I'm only afraid of two things really and mimes don't really count...there mostly just annoying. Point is though, I'm not fretting about this match. Crazy or not this guy's just another wrestler. I just don't see anything special about him as far as talent goes so. We'll see Friday though won't we. Until then my dear cretins, adieu."
He finished mixing everything together and put what was left of the food on a plate. As he looked, Ms. Fitte came in and got behind him. She looked at it too and smiled.
"That looks really good. Maybe you should cook more often."
He nodded and picked up the plate. He then turned and set on the floor. He made to whistle but the dog came at the sound of the plate touching the floor.
"So when's the pizza getting here?"
Charlie Smiles and his grandson, who had been named after him, were sitting outside of his home on a bench he had just finished building. The two of them sat looking at the house and the younger Charlie had been swinging his legs, getting antsy like all ten year olds do. His grandfather noticed this.
"You know this house is gonna be yours right? You'll never have to worry about it, not for a hundred years."
The boy looked up to the old man and said nothing. He didn't talk a lot. When he did, it was extremely short and to the point.
"Every secret in it will be yours too."
"Secrets?"
The grandfather smiled as he knew it would pique interest. The boy was fascinated by secrets. He even found a few, but when he didn't want the boy to go somewhere or do something, Charlie Smiles put a clown up. The boy was afraid of clowns.
"Yep. I'll show you all of them. I told you that a circus helped me build it right? Friends I had from when I was Chuckling Charlie then the Ringmaster."
The boy nodded and looked at the house. It looked like it was old but he knew better. It was only as old as he was. Not much more.
"Come on. I'll show you a really neat one."
=============================================
<<Ravenwood, PA 2010>>
Freakke was cooking in his kitchen as the camera started to roll. He was frying something in a pan and cutting carrots on his cutting board. He waved to the camera acknowledging it but his eyes weren't taken off of preparing the food.
"Come in and take a seat. I'm almost done."
He scraped the chopped carrot into a pot and put the lid back on it. He took his apron off and set it down behind himself.
"Naturally, your here to talk about my match on Friday. I'm not sure what to make of Harold. Is he really crazy? Do I have to worry about him going all Michael Myers on me this week? Who knows. I do know I need get the chicken of the burner though."
He turned around and started to stir the frying pan's contents. He brought the pan over and set it down on the cutting board. In it were bits of chicken he'd sliced and fried.
"Hold on a second, I need to grab something."
He left the room and a black Lab came in and started to sniff at the chicken. The dog put its front paws on the counter and started to eat some of the chicken. It dropped down but didn't come from behind the counter. Freakke came back but didn't see the dog. He had a few seasonings in his hands. He looked at the chicken, most of which was still there but he seemed to notice some was still missing.
"...anyways. I'm not so worried about it. Just another match. Harold's seems harmless enough. I know very little about his 'other-half'. From what I hear though, he ain't any better at wrestling so I'm good. No problem this week."
Freakke shrugged and turned around to put the spices of the counter. As he did the dog's head came out of the pot and it started to eat some more of the chicken. It stopped and disappeared back into the pot, making only a small noise. Freakke turned around and looked at the chicken again. This time he started looking around but still didn't see anything. He even looked in the pot but didn't find anything.
"I know how to beat guys like that. Brawlers tend not to use their head too much unless they are thinking about headbutting you. They have to think first though. Beating a guy like him is easy. Be quick or be dead. Work smarter not harder. Don't get hit. No problem. Yeah, I'm not worried about this match. Its only one guy."
He almost turned around but kept his eye on the pot. As he blindly reached for something, the dog popped up from behind him and started to chow down on the chicken again. Freakke turned around but it had already fled to the other room. He looked down at the chicken and rubbed his eyes, although his face paint did not smear.
"Maybe I'm going crazy...Anyways, Friday Night Suspense. I don't care whose crazy, psychotic, or just in need of time out, I can come out on top. I can and will win. Plain and simple. I'm not afraid of some nutter. I'm only afraid of two things really and mimes don't really count...there mostly just annoying. Point is though, I'm not fretting about this match. Crazy or not this guy's just another wrestler. I just don't see anything special about him as far as talent goes so. We'll see Friday though won't we. Until then my dear cretins, adieu."
He finished mixing everything together and put what was left of the food on a plate. As he looked, Ms. Fitte came in and got behind him. She looked at it too and smiled.
"That looks really good. Maybe you should cook more often."
He nodded and picked up the plate. He then turned and set on the floor. He made to whistle but the dog came at the sound of the plate touching the floor.
"So when's the pizza getting here?"