Post by The Brothers Blackwater on Dec 18, 2018 23:57:05 GMT -8
Griffin "The Mechanic" MacAlister
I didn't really know Griffin MacAlister. Not all that well. Or essentially, at all. Nothing beyond brief encounters with him in passing in the halls of the XWF main headquarters or wrestling at the same event that he was also scheduled to appear at. For instance, we both wrestled at the PPV. Still, even with that being the case, the man and I never really had a face to face conversation. Not once, since I became a part of this federation. While he was friends with my father, we were basically strangers. Sort of funny considering the fact that my sister Lila was possibly pregnant with his child. Then again, she might be carrying the baby of a Nazi werewolf. With no way to be certain who the father was until after the child was born. This whole situation held the prospect of being super awkward. A part of me wondered why I was even bothering with Griffin at all, when I could avoid this situation altogether by acquiring the aid that I required from my brothers. The only thing that stopped me from that course of action was the knowledge that Griffin dealt with Maxwell in the past. Such information could be vital. Which is why I found myself approaching the auto shop that he was currently working for. Not only was he a mechanic there but if my intel was accurate, he was also the owner. Interesting that he would maintain that position, considering everything that transpired between Lila and him. Perhaps they patched things up? I really needed to make an effort to reach out to her, she was my sister, after all and yet everything that I knew about her was from other sources and hearsay. Totally unacceptable.
I could hear the loud blaring sound of punk rock as I approached the interior of the auto shop, instantly confirming that Griffin was indeed present. A pair of black, steal toe Grinders sticking out from underneath the side of a truck, added to the growing evidence. Glancing around, I immediately knew this wasn't the place for me. A filthy, grime coated auto shop, I felt dirty just standing here. See, I'm not the manual labor sort, I hire people to do this kind of thing, I don't crawl around on the nasty, soiled floor. For one thing, my suit would be completely ruined and on top of that, it was gross. Downright foul. No, this sort of profession was made for guys like Griffin MacAlister, meanwhile I was destined for a far more prestigious profession. Unfortunately, our paths needed to cross, if I were to find my father. So I made an exception and despite everything telling me to hightail it out of there, I cleared my throat as a means to summon Griffin's attention.
"One second."
His scratchy, voice emitted from beneath the truck. That's when I noticed the oil that I managed to step right into. Lovely. Well these shoes were garbage now. Taking a step back I wiped my foot on a clean portion of the floor. Or should I say, a spot that didn't have oil spilled onto it. This place was severely trying my patience. Luckily, Griffin slid out from under the truck that he was working on and rose to his feet. An amused expression, darting onto his face as soon as he caught sight of me. Entertained recognition was more like it. Oh good. He remembered who I was and found my presence to be funny. Grabbing a rag from a nearby workbench, he tossed it at my shoe and laughed.
"You're outta your element comin' in here. Dressed like that. I bet that suit of yours costs as much as the first down payment for my apartment."
"I'm pretty sure it cost more than that."
I reached down and used the rag to wipe off the tip of my shoe. Still dreadful. They would have to go, I couldn't have my shoes reeking of motor oil. That stuff doesn't go away, the odor lingers. Taints. That would absolutely not do. I chose to keep this information to myself though. It's bad enough that Griffin was looking at me like I was completely out of place. I didn't want to give him more ammunition. Besides, I already felt like I didn't belong here, mostly because I didn't. He still didn't have to find it so comical. His mockery was annoying.
"So what can I do for you man?"
Firing up a cigarette, he took a drag and leaned against the workbench.
"I'm assumin' this ain't a social call. Something tells me that you aren't here for your car either. Bet you get that done at the dealer or trade it in for a new model, when your tired of the old one. You probably drive something foreign too. I ain't pro-american but a rich, fancy lookin' dude like yourself, I know your type, you have to go big or go home and splurge. I'm guessing it's like a badge of honor or some shit. I think that's stupid. Pointless frivolity. Shallow. Transportation should be reliable, dependable, not pretty. So tell me Donovan Blackwater, what the fuck are you doing here?"
He exhaled a cloud of smoke as I fought back the urge to rip this fucking prick a new asshole. Reminding myself that I needed his help.
"You're right, this is not a mere social call or a need for mechanical assistance for my vehicle. I drive a Jaguar currently and yes, it's quite new because I like new and expensive things. I'm not the least bit ashamed about it either. Just because others can't afford the luxuries that I can, doesn't mean I should feel bad about it and avoid making the purchase. I worked hard for everything I have, I deserve the best."
"Holy shit. You actually said all of that with a straight face. Props dude. You've really bought into your own hype."
"Yes well, I would expect such a retort from you."
"Cause when you see me, I'm nothin' but poor white trash, right?"
I sighed and ran a hand back through my hair. Doing all that I could to ward off my growing exasperation.
"Look. Let me start over. I'm not trying to step on your toes or insult you."
"Ha! That's what steal toes are for."
"Okay. See we got off on the wrong foot here. You think I'm a rich piece of shit that believes he's better than everyone else. I get it."
"You're telling me that you don't think that?"
"I didn't say that. Truthfully, that statement is accurate, to an extent. That's also completely irrelevant because I came here specifically, to ask for your help. Yes, this high class snob, needs your help."
Taking another pull from his cigarette, Griffin crossed his arms in front of himself.
"I'm listening."
He exhaled a puff of smoke, his eyes intent as he waited for me to speak.
"My father went missing and I'm fairly certain that Maxwell Maximus, has something to do with it. Now before he did his disappearing act, Azrael mentioned that the last time he dealt with Maxwell was when he helped you, sever your ties with Max."
"Why would he mention that?"
"Because Maxwell hired me to be his accountant and financial consultant. In my defense, I didn't know he was some sort of nefarious, underground kingpin. When I told my father about the job, he flipped out and told me to cut ties with Max as soon as possible. For the sake of myself and my family. Then he vanished. I haven't been able to locate Azrael since then. I did some reconnaissance work, went to his place and found that he left his phone behind. He would never do that, not without a reason. So I searched the phone and discovered that Maxwell called Azrael, literally minutes after he left my place. I didn't recognize the number at first, it was different than the one that Maxwell gave me, the one that I have programmed into my phone. Had programmed into my phone. I had to destroy it because... I did something stupid."
"You called the number from your phone. That's how you knew it was Maxwell that called your pops cause you made the mistake of giving him a return jingle."
"Yes."
"Fuckin' rocket scientist, over here. Did you buy a new phone? Cover your tracks... at all? Let him think that maybe your phone got swiped and your call was a random coincidence? Do anything to sway him from realizing that you know something is up?"
"I got a new phone but I haven't tried to contact him. I figured it would only make him suspicious."
"Brilliant. The hits just keep on comin'."
"Hey this is all new to me, I don't have experience dealing with men like, Maxwell."
"I thought you said that you wanna be a top dog. A heavy hitter. You're not first class, you're elite class. Yeah, I heard your little song and dance, how are you gonna make shit like that happen, without crossing those lines and working with scumbags like Maxwell."
"I've done alright so far."
"And look at what happened, you're Maxwell's accountant. Your dad is missing, presumably abducted or worse."
"I fucked up, I get it. I didn't know Maxwell was a vicious tyrant, I was only trying to make a name for myself. Establish my career. Maxwell Maximus is a legend in the business industry. The crème de la crème. Everything he touches, turns to gold. He's notorious. I thought that getting him as a client would... fast track me back to the top. That it would prove that I was a big time player and not someone to be trifled with. If I would have known who he really was... I would have done things, differently. Even if it meant shopping at... Target."
I could barely utter the store's name. It was such a revolting, realm of nightmares. Ugh. I felt like I wanted to puke, every time I mentioned the store. Still, I would have endured the torment of shopping there, if it meant this entire atrocious mess could have been avoided.
"You really are a trip and a half man."
Griffin took another drag and then died his cigarette out on the bottom of his boot.
"Alright. You messed up but I think the situation can be resolved. Assuming that Maxwell didn't find a way to harness control over Azrael. Your old man is pretty damn powerful, I think the world would be screwed if he were brainwashed to join the dark side. As far as we know he's just missing, with a strong possibility that he's been abducted by a megalomaniac."
"You started that out so good, with such a promise of hope and now, I can't help but presume that my father has been influenced to join the forces of evil, alongside Maxwell. If he destroys the world, that'll be my fault. I'll be responsible for billions of deaths. That's worse than Hitler."
"You're spiralin' man. Chill out. Take a breath. You fucked up but the world isn't over. Not yet anyway. Now your dad left his phone behind, I think it's safe to say that he did that on purpose. Comin' here is the smartest decision that you've made, as of late. I also reckon that Maxwell, knows that you're Azrael's son. He probably used that to goad a confrontation with Az. Using you as bait to incite interest and provoke a response. Azrael might of been upset but he's a smart guy. Which means that he would predict a trap. He'd still walk straight into it but at least he would leave behind a precautionary measure to ensure that he had back up. A means to escape. That would be his phone and all his contacts. I might be a living weapon but I'm still only one man. You need an army. No joke. Maxwell will be prepared for this. Fortunately, Azrael happens to have an arsenal of badass, super friends, for just such an occasion. I'll work on gathering them up while you set a meeting with Maxwell. Call him like you have no idea what's going on. You'll be at a disadvantage, going in alone but it'll cause him to drop his guard. Leave the rest to me. The less you know, the better but I'm willin' to wager that you've got back up, should the situation require it. Primarily a certain brother that can turn into electricity and travel around incognito style. Remember to keep your cool when you're dealing with Maxwell, you don't want to arouse suspicion. Beyond what's already been risen. Whatever you need to do to keep your head level and avoid freaking out, do it. This is the kinda situation where do overs, aren't an option."
"How should I contact you after I set up the meeting with Maxwell?"
"You don't. I'll contact you. Come on. You're Donovan Blackwater. I'll just look for the billboard and flashing lights.
"Funny."
I left my father's phone with Griffin before I exited the auto shop. A creeping feeling of dread, slowly building up within me. Was I making the right choice? Trusting Griffin MacAlister? Or was this another terrible decision, in a series of bad calls? Unfortunately, I didn't have the luxury of foretelling the future. I would have to trust that everything would work out, in the end and try to have faith. In time, I would have my answers.
"Oh Robbie Bourbon, how wrong you are."
"It's true that I have abilities but they are not the only thing that defines me. They're like the extra fun bonus to an already perfect package. Assets. An added boost to tip the odds in my favor, should I require such a thing to occur. However, my powers are not the only thing that makes me unique and an undeniable marvel to behold. No, you can attribute my charm, wit, brilliant mind, amazing fighting skills and incredibly attractive features, for that. It's true. I am an absolute masterpiece. Utter perfection. I've been carrying the X-Treme title for well over two months now. I've been attacked on the street and in food courts and still one thing remains the same, I'm still the fucking champion. I've defended this belt, valiantly. Warding off opponents, with style and finesse that you don't possess. Simply hearing you speak tells me that loud and clear, but then... on top of that, you also happen to be this massive mountain of lard, thus confirming the fact, tenfold. I wonder when the last time you were able to see your own wang, let alone wipe your ass. Disgusting and quite uncouth, I might add. Tell me, do your friends help you with that task, who is the unfortunate bastard that's in charge of wiping Robbie Bourbon's enormous backside?
"Kudos on creating a fantasy even more obscene and vulgar than before. Bestiality, no less. My, my... what a mind you've got Bourbon. How much of that was used as actual masturbatory fuel. Dread the thought. Once again, I'm sorry to disappoint. Your fairy tale was nothing more than a work of fiction. The crude conjuration of a troglodyte. Much like your other fun little tales of nonsense and fantasy. You see, you assume because you say something won't matter, that it's fact. When in reality you're simply telling false truths and fables. I know what I am capable of doing. Meanwhile, you haven't an inkling as to what you're undertaking, when you get into a fight with me. I am a force to be reckoned with and you're just an oaf that's meant to be mocked. A joke. A has-been that crawled out from the rubbish, to show his worthless face to the masses for a meager moment of attention. Wasting the time of the real talent so you can feel special and take part in a couple of matches, before you slither back into the depths of forgotten relics. I am the future of this company. The man that's single-handedly, making the X-Treme title great again. You don't deserve this belt. You are far from worthy and tomorrow night, you'll learn that lesson, when I utterly destroy you in the ring. Be prepared to suffer the agony of defeat Robbie Bourbon, ready yourself for that crushing weight because tomorrow night, you will lose."
"You won't be the first to fall or the last, but you will fall."
"You know what they say about the bigger they are..."