Post by Cliff Clinton on Dec 2, 2012 22:00:46 GMT -6
Do you believe anything is possible?
Like really believe that “anything” could happen, or are you somebody who needs to have the hard facts presented in front of them before you accept it? I’m not talking about something silly, I’m not sitting here banking on the possibility of Mount Saint Helen one day erupting turkey gravy all over the greater Washington area, that would be ridiculous. Delicious, but ridiculous. No, I’m talking about stuff that, well lets say, science hasn’t caught up to yet. Stuff that science can’t explain…..yet.
What if you woke up one day and you weren’t who you said you were anymore?
Take Cliff Clinton here. Seen here sleeping away in his cozy bed. Dreaming about the time he wrestled Jack “The Tall Man” Finkman for the world title at Madison Square Garden. Short Platinum blonde hair, flashy attire, body sculpted out of stone. Think Sting meets the Ultimate Warrior. Packed house, the sold out crowd chanting “CRUSHER” at the top of there lungs. Cliff hoists the seven foot, four hundred pound man over his head for a military press and slams Finkman to the mat in a display of strength so awe inspiring the New York crowd leaps to there feet in excitement. The announcers at the booth are going nuts.
“I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN THE WORLD! ”
One shouted at the top of his lungs.
“CRUSHERMANIA IS RUNNING ABSOLUTELY WILD HERE TONIGHT IN NEW YORK! CLIFF CLINTON MAY BE THE MOST FAMOUS AND POPULAR PRO WRESTLER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!”
The other one shouted right back. Crusher pins The Tall Man for the three count and from that moment on it generated an amazing pro wrestling career for Cliff Clinton. He was a superstar. Hell, he was an icon. He lived a life nobody could even dream of…..until today.
Cliff wakes with a long yawn and smiles. He rolls over toward his wife.
“Judith I had that dream again….Judith?”
Cliff feels the spot where his wife usually slept and he thought it was odd for her to be missing. He shrugs it off, she must have gotten up early. He gets out of bed and takes a look around. Everything looked different. Furniture was shifted around. Judith was always redecorating, and she always said he never noticed when she changed something. This was probably one of those times. He shrugs and throws on a pair of brown sweat pants and an old beat up work shirt and headed for the bathroom.
The bathroom seemed arranged different too. He chuckles to himself and smiles.
“Judith…”
He says with a head shake. But that’s when he noticed the strangest rearrangement of all. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror he noticed that his face was different. Instead of a handsome face and short platinum crew cut, he had long matted down dirty brown hair. He sported a thick mangled beard that covered at least fifty percent of his face. He looked deranged…even he had to admit….which scared the ever loving crap out of him. He just kept touching his hair and beard, somehow trying to convince himself that it wasn’t real. He stared into his reflection, if it really was his reflection, completely unable to explain how he had suddenly grown all this hair on his face and head. That was pretty weird……but that’s when it got weirder.
“Who in the hell are you!”
Cliff here’s another voice from behind him and in the mirror he see’s a man he’s never met before holding a lead pipe and behind him, his wife on a cell phone in tears.
“Hello police? Yes, come quick there’s a strange man standing in our bathroom!!!!!"
Like really believe that “anything” could happen, or are you somebody who needs to have the hard facts presented in front of them before you accept it? I’m not talking about something silly, I’m not sitting here banking on the possibility of Mount Saint Helen one day erupting turkey gravy all over the greater Washington area, that would be ridiculous. Delicious, but ridiculous. No, I’m talking about stuff that, well lets say, science hasn’t caught up to yet. Stuff that science can’t explain…..yet.
What if you woke up one day and you weren’t who you said you were anymore?
Take Cliff Clinton here. Seen here sleeping away in his cozy bed. Dreaming about the time he wrestled Jack “The Tall Man” Finkman for the world title at Madison Square Garden. Short Platinum blonde hair, flashy attire, body sculpted out of stone. Think Sting meets the Ultimate Warrior. Packed house, the sold out crowd chanting “CRUSHER” at the top of there lungs. Cliff hoists the seven foot, four hundred pound man over his head for a military press and slams Finkman to the mat in a display of strength so awe inspiring the New York crowd leaps to there feet in excitement. The announcers at the booth are going nuts.
“I’VE NEVER SEEN ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN THE WORLD! ”
One shouted at the top of his lungs.
“CRUSHERMANIA IS RUNNING ABSOLUTELY WILD HERE TONIGHT IN NEW YORK! CLIFF CLINTON MAY BE THE MOST FAMOUS AND POPULAR PRO WRESTLER IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!”
The other one shouted right back. Crusher pins The Tall Man for the three count and from that moment on it generated an amazing pro wrestling career for Cliff Clinton. He was a superstar. Hell, he was an icon. He lived a life nobody could even dream of…..until today.
Cliff wakes with a long yawn and smiles. He rolls over toward his wife.
“Judith I had that dream again….Judith?”
Cliff feels the spot where his wife usually slept and he thought it was odd for her to be missing. He shrugs it off, she must have gotten up early. He gets out of bed and takes a look around. Everything looked different. Furniture was shifted around. Judith was always redecorating, and she always said he never noticed when she changed something. This was probably one of those times. He shrugs and throws on a pair of brown sweat pants and an old beat up work shirt and headed for the bathroom.
The bathroom seemed arranged different too. He chuckles to himself and smiles.
“Judith…”
He says with a head shake. But that’s when he noticed the strangest rearrangement of all. When he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror he noticed that his face was different. Instead of a handsome face and short platinum crew cut, he had long matted down dirty brown hair. He sported a thick mangled beard that covered at least fifty percent of his face. He looked deranged…even he had to admit….which scared the ever loving crap out of him. He just kept touching his hair and beard, somehow trying to convince himself that it wasn’t real. He stared into his reflection, if it really was his reflection, completely unable to explain how he had suddenly grown all this hair on his face and head. That was pretty weird……but that’s when it got weirder.
“Who in the hell are you!”
Cliff here’s another voice from behind him and in the mirror he see’s a man he’s never met before holding a lead pipe and behind him, his wife on a cell phone in tears.
“Hello police? Yes, come quick there’s a strange man standing in our bathroom!!!!!"