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Date Posted: 07:58:36 02/10/03 Mon
Author: Flabulas
Subject: ... life is but a dream

Flabulas runs through a narrow hallway, one almost too narrow for him to fit through. He has a pistol in his hand and an expression of rage on his face. He has blood on his chest and is breathing heavily. He wipes a trickle of blood from his mouth. He comes to a door to his left and he breaks it in. There’s a bed inside, with a woman on it. It is Laura, Flabulas’s wife… she’s dead. The room is a mess of blood. He spins around, looking at a point to direct his rage, but there is none. He kneels down next to the bed, and brushes her blood-matted hair off of her forehead. He places a kiss on her head.

“He’s going to die for this,” he says to himself. He stands up and walks to the sink and tears open his shirt. There’s a wound there, which Flabulas covers with a piece of his shirt. He buttons it back up and checks his gun. He smiles a bitter smile and steps from the room. The hallway seems wider now, as if it is spreading itself apart in order to let the avenging angel through, so he can find his target and take care of it.
The hallway branches off, and Flabulas is forced to stop. He looks down both ways, and, seemingly at random, he takes the right one. He’s running now, as fast as his overweight body can carry him.

The hallway is gone now, Flabulas is in a giant field. At the end is a figure, obscured in the distance. Flabulas runs towards it, his gun pointed into the distance as if to part the air to speed Flabulas’s way. The figure comes into view now, but there are two of them, a tall man and a shorter man. The larger man has a gun pointed at the head of the smaller man who is on his knees. Flabulas sees who the two men are now. One is John Bistiza, the other is Trent Rudiger. Flabulas points his gun at Bistiza.

“You f*ckin’ son of a B*tch, you killed my wife you sick bastard. Look at me, turn around and look at me.”

Bistiza looks up and smiles. The smile splits wider into a grin.

“Heh, yeah, she was really happy when she went. I guess I could give her something you couldn’t.”

He pulls the trigger, *BLAM* , Trent falls. As if in slow motion, Flabulas pulls his own trigger, again, and again, and again. Even as Bistiza falls under the barrage, he turns his gun on Flabulas and pulls his own trigger, and both men fall in a flurry of bullets.

~Flabulas almost rolls off the bed as he heaves his guts out. Luckily, a trash can was thoughtfully placed there. ~

Flabulas - What’s going on, where am I?

Gad - Hospital. I guess you ate some bad chop suey or something. You’ve been puking and delirious since this afternoon. I guess those antibiotics are doing their stuff.

Flabulas - Will I be able to wrestle on Glory?

Gad - Yeah, man, you’ll be right as rain and ready to kick Big B’s ass to the next stop of the world tour.

Flabulas - I sure hope so.

*OOC Note, most of this is in a dream if you couldn't figure that out... there are no cameras there. The end however, Gad was closeby to tape the procedings... he has about four hours of Flabulas puking for the editors to looks through.*

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