Post by Rotten Mark Keaton on Aug 29, 2021 13:01:32 GMT -6
Orange County Correctional Facility - 1:35 PM.
Astonishing Kevin Fisher was led out of the building by an officer, his eye patch on and squinting his good eye from the blazing sun. He pushed out his arm to fill in his black jean jacket. Waiting at the curb was Remarkable Mark Keaton, shirtless with mirrored sunglasses on, a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. His hand rested on the wheel of the red 83’ Crysler Executive that was chopped into a convertible. There was cheap looking RMK decals all along the side and an amateur looking spray painting of a skull that dominated the hood.
Kevin shook his head at the sight as the officer turned to walk back into the building. He eyed the car then walked around the front. Mark acted like he didn’t see him as he checked his blonde hair in the rear view mirror. Kevin grabbed the door handle to get in but it snapped off in his hand. He shrugged then hopped over the door next to Mark and bounced in the softness of the plush seats.
“Thanks,” Kevin muttered, “got a smoke?”
Mark gave him a bent looking cigarette then turned the key, the car came to life followed by a loud bang, a big cloud of black smoke poured out of the back tail pipe. They pulled out into traffic and they were off.
“Got a new contract, dude!” Mark yelled over the noise of the car.
Kevin nodded then took a drag.
“Think I’m like, the sixteenth or seventeenth highest paid wrestler on Prime now!” Mark bragged.
“Well, how many wrestlers are on Prime?” Kevin took another drag.
“Ah, got to be at least fifty or sixty. Doesn’t matter anyway, man. RMK is back and I need my manager. So I bailed you out. What were you in there for anyway?” The car stalled for a minute, then barked back to life.
“Ah, it’s not important. It’s stupid.”
The car stalled again, Mark struggled to get it started again. Cars started honking behind him. He barely got it started this time and a huge cloud of black smoke poured out of the back.
“Look dude, humor me. No secrets Kev.”
“Well,” Kevin flicked his cigarette, “I was bangin this biker chick named Darla, or Dawisha? Fuck I don’t remember her name. Anyway, she’s got this pet crocodile named Lester. Fuckin thing is at least twelve feet long. But she’s got the thing so trained that it acts like a dog in her apartment. So we were starting to fight more and more, she got evicted and I somehow ended up with this twelve foot long crocodile named Lester. I never had a crocodile for a pet before.” Kevin’s voice trailed off.
“Dude,” Mark let out a laugh as they stopped at a traffic light, “don’t stop the story there. How did you end up in jail?”
“Alright, so I’m walking this thing. Because you got to walk them right? I have this little twenty dollar leash, the one’s where you press the button and it tightens the little nylon string. So here I am walking this twelve foot long croc down the sidewalk in the middle of Orange County, this woman comes along with her stupid little pooch, it starts barking and pissing off Lester. He runs after the poodle and I press the button to stop him in his tracks, big surprise, the little nylon rope snapped from the seven hundred and fifty pounds of force going after the poodle. Bit of an incident and bits of poodle fluff everywhere. I ended up getting blamed for everything. Can you believe that? How am I supposed to know?”
“Ha ha ha ha!!! Ha ha ha ha haaaa! It’s a fucking CROC man! And you were taking it for a walk?! MAAAN I wish I saw that!” Mark laughed more but stopped when flames shot out from under the hood.
“Is that supposed to do that?” Kevin asked as smoke poured out.
The back of the car also started burning, the flames reached the backseat.
“Ya, it does that. Just ignore it dude.” Mark drove the car through the intersection, soon after a cop car had his lights on behind them.
Moments later the fire department was dousing the flames. Mark and Kevin watched and nodded at the work.
“Good to be back eh?” Mark lit a smoke.