Friday Night in New Orleans

It was a Friday night in the wonderful New Orleans. The sweet sound of jazz filled the air, combining with the dazzling lights to produce a vibrant environment. Friday nights are often enjoyed by not only the New Orleanians, but the entire world. Of course, there are a select few which don't enjoy these Friday nights, and one of these people are 'Jazzy' John McCarty. Why? Well, with everyone enjoying themselves on a Friday night, you'd expect a bar such as the House of Blues to be packed. And, well, John is one of the unfortunate people having to work in a bar on a Friday night.

However, this night was an exception. The streets were dead, the night was cold and silent. All that you could hear was the wind, and a stray saxophone somewhere in the distance. No one could really explain why, that's just how it was that night. John and the Bartender were just about to close the bar before a woman in a stunning red dress walked in.

Woman: Are you still open?

John: Uh... Yeah. Come on in.

As John opened the door, the woman quickly walked across the room into the bar.

Bartender: Rough night?

Woman: Don't wanna talk about it. I just need a glass of... Sambuca. I just wanna forget tonight.

John quickly whips up a glass of the finest sambuca in the house, as the Bartender walks away.

Bartender: I'm heading upstairs. Close the house after you're done.

The woman looks curious as the Bartender walks up the stairs behind the bar.

Woman: Where on Earth does upstairs lead to?

John: Ah. That's were we live, Bartender, Bert and I. Us three were the key people in reestablishing the House of Blues after it burnt down. The 'House of Blues 2.0' is like a home to us... I guess it's because it actually is.

Woman: Hmm... Is it interesting living in your workplace?

John: To be honest, there's nothing really different about it. For me right now, it's just work... Then chill at home... Work again... Then home... Work... Home... It doesn't really change no matter how far away you live.

The woman doubted John, and he could tell by her look. So he just told the simpler truth.

John: In other words, yes it is weird.

Woman: I never said it was weird, I said it was interesting.

John: Jeez, you're pulling me up on petty things yet I don't even know your name...

Woman: It's Jade.

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*flashback*

Jade: John, look out!

*crash*
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Jade: Hello? Earth to... To....

John: Huh? What?

Jade: You looked a little distracted...

John: Ah... Your name just reminded me of someone. Ah, never mind that... Jade.

Jade: So, what's your name?

John: Ah, you don't know me... I'm 'Jazzy' John McCarty, one of WCF's finest.

Jade: ?

John: I'm a professional wrestler.

Jade: Oh that fake bullshit.

John: Well, it doesn't feel fake.

Jade: I've never gotten into that wrestling... Maybe you could change my mind?

John: Well, wrestling cops a lot of hate because it's 'fake'. Funnily enough, one of the world's biggest TV shows, Game of Thrones, is also fake. But, no one hates it because it's fake. Why should wrestling be any different?

Jade: You make an interesting point there. Maybe I could see one of your shows?

John: Ah, that's unfortunate. WCF has died, it was closed down, much to the dismay of all workers and staff. So you won't be able to see one of my shows.

Jade: Okay... Tell me one reason why I shouldn't splash the rest of this sambuca on your face.

John: Why should you?

Jade: Because you obviously lied about being a professional wrestler? One of WCF's finest? But it's closed down? Please!

John: But I'm not lying...

Jade: Yeah right.

Jade quickly finished her sambuca and left the bar immediately.

John sighed, closed the bar and headed upstairs.

John: Yo Bert, what was that wrestling federation you tried convincing me to join?

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It was now a Saturday night in New Orleans, the streets once again had returned to its glorious state of sight, smell and sound.

The bar had just closed and now, as usual on a Saturday night/Sunday morning, the Bartender made an Old Fashioned to serve to John, who was on the other side of the bar.

Bartender: So, back in the wrestling business?

John: I hope so. I'm having a trial match with APW this week to see how things pan out. I'm hoping for the best.

Bartender: Didn't you say you would join AW?

John: Yeah, that didn't really work. I had one match, and that was it. I tried getting segments, and had to remind the admin to book me. I was constantly snubbed. Now, I'm hoping for the best here. Already I'm being treated better here.

Bartender: Who's your opponent?

John: That would be the wonderful Tsukiko. Much like me, she was on the hunt for a new promotion after the closure of her old one, NBW. I must say, when I first heard about her, I wasn't so sure, but after looking at a few of her matches... She is insane!

John: But obviously in this fed, her skills mean nothing. After some research, I've noticed that she's never really gotten post the undercard. Maybe she deserves better? Or maybe she's just past her prime?

John: But she's only so young... How can she past her prime? Maybe she didn't have a prime? Maybe, she just sucked all along. Maybe, those 'highlights' were just glorified. For the name of the Jesus I could not tell you.

John: And her finisher? Moonbreaker? Ooh, look out, a flying left knee. It's up there in the list of worst finishers, right next to Umaga's Samoan Spike. My finisher, when done properly, can leave a man cold. Hers? Yes, it may hurt, but it's pretty lame for one of her best moves.

Bartender: I have a gut feeling you'll probably regret that.

John: Y'know, I probably will.

John took a last sip of his Old Fashioned.

John: Okay, I'm done.

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WRITER'S NOTE: Sorry, it turns out my weekend was more busy than I expected it to be. Here's what I churned out anyways. Hope you enjoyed!