Post by SANTANA on Sept 28, 2020 19:37:54 GMT
Another bender. It was a common occurrence for our ‘hero’ to disappear from the world for days at a time only to get up and dust himself off like nothing had happened. Another day. Another City. Another… Pet shop? Santana arises from his slumber dazed, confused and hung over, obviously. He then looks around to find himself surrounded by pounds and pounds of pet chow scattered all over the floor. “There’s blood on his hands, but who’s?” Santana thinks to himself before reaching into his right pocket to find a bag of raw meat.
“AINT THIS ABOUT A BITCH…”
Johnson races to his feet and walks through the door to find animals running wild. ‘Someone’ had clearly let these things loose and if Santana were a betting man, he’d bet on the blood covered drunk who spent a night in the back of the shop. It gets more complicated when Santana tries to walk through all the ruckus and is immediately confronted by a snarling pitbull.
“AYE MUTHERFUCKER RELAX”
That doesn’t help one bit. The dog straight up goes for Santana’s leg and gets him pretty good but he manages to shake the dog off and boot it across the skull. Grabbing a chew toy, he then proceeds to continuously beat onto the sole camera in the store until it breaks. As the camera aggressively hits the floor, a parrot wildly flies down from what looks like the heavens and lands on his right shoulder. Turning his head, he looks at the bird who’s staring him dead in his face before it belts out a skawk before whistling -
“MUTHERFUCKER”
Santana smiles widely and walks out of the store without a care until his back pocket starts buzzing. He reaches to check who it could be and it’s none other than Smokey Mayfield. Smokey was a con artist, a self proclaimed deathmatch legend but most of all, he was one of the only reasons Santana is floating around the wrestling scene four decades later. Seconds later, he looks to his phone and finds a text from Smokey reading “Late for the commercial” to which Santana responds with an echoed
“FUUUUCK”
His head shakes back and forth as he looks for quick and easy transportation before spotting a kid on his bike. Looking back to the bird that’s still on his shoulder, he gets the nod which somehow is a seal of approval now, even though he’d just met this bird thirty minutes ago. ‘Tana races across the street and stops the kid in his tracks, hunching down to pull money out of his right sock. It’s $100, Santana’s emergency cocaine fund.
“LOOK MUTHERFUCKER SANTANA DONT GOT TIME TO NEGOTIATE WITH NO MACAULY CULKIN LOOKIN BITCH. TAKE THIS HUNDO AND GIMME THE FUCKIN BIKE.”
The kid isn’t having it. Santana nods and steps to the side, allowing the kid to pass by him. Or so he fuckin thought! He knocks that boy into next week with a right hook and takes off with the bike and the money.
It’s safe to say the people at Danny Stevenson Chevrolet are less than pleased. Even more so when a now sweat and blood soaked Santana Johnson walks onto set as they just start to pack things up. The owner starts to lose it and even threatens to call the police on Santana.
“YOU A CROOK AND A COP CALLER TOO? HOW BOUT YOU DO SANTANA A FAVOR? TURN THEM MUTHERFUCKIN CAMERAS ON.”
Santana says as he gives the owner the death glare, prompting him to agree. Lights. Camera. Action.
“THIS SANTANA JOHNSON AND MY BOY KAMINSKY HERE. SHIT, SANTANA BEEN ALL AROUND THE WORLD AND HE KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT SLICING AND WE BEEN SLICING DOWN PRICES ALL WEEKEND LONG FOR YOU. JUST LIKE SANTANA GON BE KICKING JERSEY JIM ASS BACK TO THE BRICK CITY, WHEN YOU SEE OUR PRICES YOU GON BE KICKING THEM OTHER DEALERS TO THE SIDE. COME ON DOWN FOR CARMAGEDDON AND GET YOU A 2017 CHEVY MALIBU. THERE BLOOD ON MY HANDS BUT JIM LUZATTO BLOOD GONNA BE ON YOURS IF SANTANA SEE ANY OF THESE 2012 CHEVYS STILL IN STOCK YOU HEAR ME!? THIS THE DEATHMATCH OG THE REALEST MUTHERFUCKER IN THE WORLD AND IF YOU NEED A CAR, SHIT EVEN IF YOU DONT, EVEN IF YOU WANT TO SPEND YOUR FUCKIN MONEY, COME TO DANNY STEVENSON CHEVROLET.”
“AINT THIS ABOUT A BITCH…”
Johnson races to his feet and walks through the door to find animals running wild. ‘Someone’ had clearly let these things loose and if Santana were a betting man, he’d bet on the blood covered drunk who spent a night in the back of the shop. It gets more complicated when Santana tries to walk through all the ruckus and is immediately confronted by a snarling pitbull.
“AYE MUTHERFUCKER RELAX”
That doesn’t help one bit. The dog straight up goes for Santana’s leg and gets him pretty good but he manages to shake the dog off and boot it across the skull. Grabbing a chew toy, he then proceeds to continuously beat onto the sole camera in the store until it breaks. As the camera aggressively hits the floor, a parrot wildly flies down from what looks like the heavens and lands on his right shoulder. Turning his head, he looks at the bird who’s staring him dead in his face before it belts out a skawk before whistling -
“MUTHERFUCKER”
Santana smiles widely and walks out of the store without a care until his back pocket starts buzzing. He reaches to check who it could be and it’s none other than Smokey Mayfield. Smokey was a con artist, a self proclaimed deathmatch legend but most of all, he was one of the only reasons Santana is floating around the wrestling scene four decades later. Seconds later, he looks to his phone and finds a text from Smokey reading “Late for the commercial” to which Santana responds with an echoed
“FUUUUCK”
His head shakes back and forth as he looks for quick and easy transportation before spotting a kid on his bike. Looking back to the bird that’s still on his shoulder, he gets the nod which somehow is a seal of approval now, even though he’d just met this bird thirty minutes ago. ‘Tana races across the street and stops the kid in his tracks, hunching down to pull money out of his right sock. It’s $100, Santana’s emergency cocaine fund.
“LOOK MUTHERFUCKER SANTANA DONT GOT TIME TO NEGOTIATE WITH NO MACAULY CULKIN LOOKIN BITCH. TAKE THIS HUNDO AND GIMME THE FUCKIN BIKE.”
The kid isn’t having it. Santana nods and steps to the side, allowing the kid to pass by him. Or so he fuckin thought! He knocks that boy into next week with a right hook and takes off with the bike and the money.
It’s safe to say the people at Danny Stevenson Chevrolet are less than pleased. Even more so when a now sweat and blood soaked Santana Johnson walks onto set as they just start to pack things up. The owner starts to lose it and even threatens to call the police on Santana.
“YOU A CROOK AND A COP CALLER TOO? HOW BOUT YOU DO SANTANA A FAVOR? TURN THEM MUTHERFUCKIN CAMERAS ON.”
Santana says as he gives the owner the death glare, prompting him to agree. Lights. Camera. Action.
“THIS SANTANA JOHNSON AND MY BOY KAMINSKY HERE. SHIT, SANTANA BEEN ALL AROUND THE WORLD AND HE KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT SLICING AND WE BEEN SLICING DOWN PRICES ALL WEEKEND LONG FOR YOU. JUST LIKE SANTANA GON BE KICKING JERSEY JIM ASS BACK TO THE BRICK CITY, WHEN YOU SEE OUR PRICES YOU GON BE KICKING THEM OTHER DEALERS TO THE SIDE. COME ON DOWN FOR CARMAGEDDON AND GET YOU A 2017 CHEVY MALIBU. THERE BLOOD ON MY HANDS BUT JIM LUZATTO BLOOD GONNA BE ON YOURS IF SANTANA SEE ANY OF THESE 2012 CHEVYS STILL IN STOCK YOU HEAR ME!? THIS THE DEATHMATCH OG THE REALEST MUTHERFUCKER IN THE WORLD AND IF YOU NEED A CAR, SHIT EVEN IF YOU DONT, EVEN IF YOU WANT TO SPEND YOUR FUCKIN MONEY, COME TO DANNY STEVENSON CHEVROLET.”