June 13, 2018
She’s been stuck in Denver for the last week, thanks to Issac and his crew dismantling her brand new truck which would explain her foul mood the past six days. She pushes through the front door of the bar near the arena and the bartender waves, “Candi! Nice to see you. How’s the truck?”
Candi shrugs and makes her way to the bar and straddles the stool and orders a beer. “Fucking fixed, finally. Motherfucking Master is going to pay for that shit tonight, that’s for fucking sure.”
The bartender sets the mug in front of her after filling it and nods, “Well at least you got it fixed now.”
Candi growls, “I had to spend the week in fucking Denver. I wanted to go home. Shit!” she shakes her head, lifting the mug to her lips and taking a long, drawn out drink before setting the mug down and wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “And I had to fight with the fucking insurance before they could even begin work. I was about to murder someone that’s for damn sure. I still might.”
The bartender grins and nods. “I bet I know who.”
She takes another drink and reaches over for a few peanuts and places them on a napkin the bartender placed in front of her. She cracks one open, “Ain’t that hard to figure out, dipshit.” She pops a few peanuts into her mouth.
“Where’s that daughter of yours?” The bartender wipes down the counter to keep busy. The bar itself has very few folks in it this time of the day, but Candi always brings her ass here before each event to get a little lubrication in her. She finishes the mug off and slides it forward, wanting more. She watches the Bartender take the mug and start to fill it up, “No idea. Said she had some planning to do. I don’t really get involved in her shit. Besides, she said she got wind of a job, perhaps over in Japan in a couple of weeks. Might have something to do with that.”
The bartender places the mug in front of her again and leans forward on the bar, “You seem in a fairly calm mood, all things considering.”
Candi just shrugs, “My trucks fixed and I get fucking revenge tonight, so no need to get all bent out of shape until then. Don’t worry, I’ll be tearing him a new asshole by the time the night is over. I already warned them the show might not be safe for children, I guess we will see how they handle that bullshit.” She drinks down more beer as she glances up at the television and sees the news.
“Goddamned this world is crazy,” she shakes her head. She turns to the bartender, “You gonna show the matches tonight here?”
Bartender takes the napkin away from Candi, dumping it with the shells into the trash and gives her a clean napkin, “I usually do. I got permission, so makes no sense not to. Besides, everyone knows you come here to drink and they enjoy watching you do your thing. Holy shit, how did you get folks around here to cheer for you?”
Candi finishes taking a swallow of beer and shrugs, “Fuck if I know. I guess they know the real deal when they see it. I don’t go out there and pretend to be something I’m not. Folks dig that shit, I guess. What you see if what you get, basically. And I don’t hold anything back.”
The bartender laughs as he drops his rag into a pail behind the bar and leans back, “That is absolutely true, I guess. The fans tend to spot a phony a mile off. Probably isn’t anyone on that roster as true to themselves as you are, Candi.” The door opens to the bar and a man walks in. He spots Candi sitting by herself as the bar and grins, walking over and taking a seat next to her.
Candi glances at him for a moment as she finishes her second mug and slides it over to the bartender, before commenting. “That seat’s taking, asshole.”
The man blinks for a moment, then gets up and moves another seat over. “Didn’t mean to crowd you.”
“You sure as fuck did,” she retorts, “You saw I was sitting here all alone and every other bar stool is fucking empty and you thought I’d be an easy lay or something and sat there intentionally. You’re fucking transparent as shit, douche bag.” The bartender fills her mug again and slides it to her. “She’s got a point.”
The man makes a face to the bartender before turning back to Candi, “I suppose that’s true enough. Can’t fault me for wanting to sit next to a beautiful woman. Beer,” he nods to the bartender.
“I sure as fuck can. Does it look like I’m here to get picked up on? No. I’m drinking a beer and eating some fucking peanuts. Besides, I’m preparing for a match tonight. Hardcore training going on here, so fuck off,” she says, lifting her mug and taking a long drink.
The man looks at her quizzically, “Match? Boxing? Fighting?”
She smirks at him, “Fucking wrestling, genius. I’m a wrestler.”
The man furrows his brows, “Professional wrestling.”
“Ain’t no other kind of wrestling that matters, shit for brain.”
“Wasn’t aware they had wrestling here on a regular basis.”
“Once a week, and I’m the goddamned champion around here.”
“Tough shit, are you?” he asks as he drinks from his mug.
“The toughest shit you’ll see around here.”
He laughs, “Well, perhaps I’ll come by and check it out.”
Candi just rolls her eyes, “Could care less if you do, to be honest. Do whatever the fuck you want.”
“You fighting tonight?”
“I wouldn’t be in the god forsaken town if I wasn’t. Gonna beat the shit out of the man who fucked up my truck,” she says sliding her mug back to the bartender for a refill. The bartender begins to pour more beer into it, “What’s his name? The Master or something?”
“The Master of Nothing as far as I can tell. He’s a piece of shit with no discernible wrestling talent or balls, for that matter.” Candi takes the mug from the bartender and drinks from it, “I’m going to dismember him limb by fucking limb tonight.”
“Shit,” the man says as he finishes his own beer. “Well, good luck.”
Candi is downing that last beer of hers and finishes, sliding the glass across the table and reaching into her pocket for some bills that she leaves on the counter. “I don’t need luck, asshole. I don’t need a goddamned thing except an ambulance to collect the pieces of the motherfucking Master after I’m done with him and taking him to the goddamned morgue.” She gets up and turns to the bartender, “I’ll be by after the match for my fucking celebratory beer.”
The door opens and closes as she heads out into the daylight and the man turns to the bartender, “Is she for real?”
The bartender laughs, “Completely for real, my friend.”
The man just shakes his head, “Well, fuck. Maybe I’ll have to check this shit out.”