 |
Journal Entry #6 in "Doozer's Journal!!!" |
**Warning**: I have Dusty's Permission to use Dusty in this Journal Entry!!! I have Dusty's Permission to use 'The Dark and Demented' Dusty in this roleplay. Cast For Journal Entry(Their Name Will Be Their Color for this Entry): Dear Journal, (-{1}-)Today, I play the role of the bearer of bad news. Journal, Jerry Springer kicked Dusty and me off the show after that little incident that I told you about in my last entry. I guess he couldn’t handle that fact that Dusty is actually Satan and would attack other people if Satan did get the best of him. I just don’t get some people, Mr. Journal. The show wanted a person who thought that Satan possessed their body and Satan actually has possessed Dusty, but the show didn’t want him. I guess Jerry should have been more careful for what he wished for. That is just like begging over and over for a Dream Title match and then just giving it up like nothing. I don’t see the point in that, Journal. I guess that I will just have to accept the fact that people are stupid and really don’t know what they want. (-{1}-) (-{2}-) Well, some people know what they want. For example, I want to kick the shit out of Oddball! Not only do I want to do that, but I will. It’s plain and simple really. Oddballs might be in the Hall of Fame, but who defeated him last Sunday? Answer me that, Mr. Journal. That is correct; I beat him last Sunday. That stupid biatch, T, thought he was going to come down and save his friend, but my good friend, The Dude, had my back. Speaking of The Dude, I’ve been hanging around him a lot more lately. The Dream Wrestling Federation gave me a show on Sunday Night Slaughter and The Dude and I am hosting Doozer Television now. It’s great. Plus, Extremist and Legend Inc. will also host the show along with The Dude and me. We just completed our second show last Sunday Night and the third will air this coming Sunday. (-{2}-) (-{3}-) While we are on the topic of this Sunday; I have a match against Chainz. Chainz thinks he is so big and bad, but who has given him the only two flaws on his record? That would be me! In single's competition, we tied in our match by a no decision. Then, when I was under the alias of ‘The Striking Lightning’ Scott Lavigne, I defeated Chainz with his partner, Caged Explosion. Yeah, I defeated them even when Big Shot left me and then decided to come back during the end of the match. So, this Sunday I think that I will have no problem handing Chainz his third flaw in his record. Chainz is a smart human being and I hope that he knows that I will DOOZE HIM, THEN ABUSE HIM! Did you know, Mr. Journal, that this match is also for the United States Championship? (-{3}-) (-{4}-) Yeah, it is quite a way down the ladder for me, but I didn’t ask for it. It was the stipulation in my match versus Oddball and I accepted it. So by this Sunday, Journal, you will see Doozer as the Dream Wrestling Federation’s new United States Champion! It’s a great thing. Yet, it could also be a controversial thing. Will Doozer throw the belt away and bring in the Canadian Title? The only reason why I would do that is because I was once in a stable that went by the name, ‘Canadian Clan.’ Well, I joined that stable to help out a few newcomers and that is over and done with. I root for the Boston Red Sox and I will keep that title just the way it is! So, to sum things up on my match this Sunday, Chainz will get a good old fashioned, passionate ass-whooping, and he’ll get his pride, dignity, and his title taken! (-{4}-) (-{5}-) Now that that’s all said and done; I can tell you what happened today. Dusty, The Dude, and I decided to go out on a special field trip. Yeah, we went out looking for red necks! Our first destination was the good old state of Maine! Now you know, Mr. Journal, that up in Maine; there are red necks all over the place. The first town of Maine that we decided to look in was Rockwood. This is a town with a population of ‘Not Many’ people and, as Dusty, The Dude, and I thought, would be flowing with red necks! So, there I was sitting down in my newly purchased, yellow Ford Escape with The Dude in the tan, leather passenger seat and Dusty sitting in the back. I drove along that dirt road for what seemed to be hours. We just looked out our windows for other dirt roads that might lead to a redneck's house or trailer. (-{5}-) (-{6}-) I used to live in Greenville, Maine, so I know my way around Rockwood. I do because Rockwood is about twenty minutes away from Greenville. Even though the two places are so close, they are pretty different. Anyway, I won’t touch that subject right now. Like I said, the three of us were in my new Ford Escape driving along until we finally hit their main road. Somebody paved it a long time ago, but in a poor fashion and needed to be paved again. I mean; potholes popped up, or went down, everywhere the eye could see. Yet, it didn’t bug me to awfully much since my new Ford Escape has a kick ass ride. We drove a little way further until we reached their local store. That’s right; Rockwood has just one big store. Actually, it’s not even big. It is a store made of logs. Are you starting to have faith in my red neck hunting abilities, Mr. Journal? (-{6}-) (-{7}-) So, I drove into the small, dirt parking lot. There, I parked my car, turned it off, and stepped onto the dirt. There was absolutely no need to lock my car or take the keys for that matter because this is a small town and nobody is going to fuck with their hero. I guess they think of me as their hero because I visited here once or twice a year. I usually visited my friend at his house. My friend, Eric, is one of the few people in the town who is not a red neck. The other couple of people who are not red necks in that town are my Uncle Telford and Aunt Pam. They aren’t really my Uncle and Aunt; they are actually my cousins. Yet, they are old enough for me to call them Uncle and Aunt, so I do. (-{7}-) (-{8}-) My Uncle Telford runs a successful business. ‘Telford’s Air Service’ is the name of his game. My Aunt Pam doesn’t do anything. Like I said, My Uncle Telford runs a successful business. Anyway, the local store looked friendly enough to passerby’s because it brought it a lot of customers. I, myself, stop by the store whenever I get hungry because the pizza is great. So, Dusty, The Dude, and I all started up and walked over to the entrance. There we saw a mounted Moose head, one pair of old fashioned fishing poles, an old net, a large mounted fish, and two old benches for sitting on the front porch. The three of us walked up the old, rickety porch, opened the newly painted, green door and walked into the store. Dusty and The Dude walked across the wooden floor and over to a four-person booth where they sat down. (-{8}-) (-{9}-) I walked over to the counter and ordered two large pizza’s. The clerk happened to be my friend Eric’s mother. So far, we haven’t found any red necks, but none of us even thought of giving up. After ordering, Eric’s mom gave me my number and I sat down with Dusty and The Dude. The booth was; you guessed it, made out of wood. The seats were wooden as well as the table top that had and old look with it's chipped off, red paint. The Dude and Dusty sat on one side of the booth, while I had the other to myself. The three of us just sat there and started checking things out. Some more mounted fish were hanging up on the walls. An old fashioned slush puppy maker stood unused in the top, right hand corner of the store. Beside that, stood an old cheese dispenser for nachos along with a salsa dispenser that looked equally as old as the cheese dispenser. Then, the three of us started talking. (-{9}-) ::--(Doozer)--:: Doozer looked to his right to see his two pizzas cooking in the oven. "Are you two all right with two pizzas?" I paused for a moment, then continued talking. "Well, it’s not like it matters, but I thought I'd ask. There isn’t much variety in these types of restaurants slash stores." ::--(Dusty)--:: Dusty held a puzzled look on his face for quite some time, then spoke up. "This means that there is one pizza for you two and one for me, right?" The Dude and I both grinned and shook our heads. Dusty saw this, then started up a chain of fake laughter. Dusty saw that The Dude and I weren’t falling for his laughter; so he tried to change the conversation. "Dude, what do you think about our Red Sox?" ::--(The Dude)--:: Unlike me, The Dude didn’t pay attention to Dusty’s sudden change of the subject of conversation. "They aren’t doing that bad right now. Nomo proved to be a great addition." I know what you are thinking, Journal. The Dude isn’t smart enough to speak like that. Well, when it comes to baseball The Dude can sound very intelligent. Yet, even The Dude forgets that he is talking about stuff now and then, even when the topic is baseball. "Dooze, my cat’s breath smells like cat food. Does your cat’s breathe smell like cat food?" ::--(Doozer)--:: Now this question caught me totally off guard. I knew The Dude acquired mental problems, but this blew me away. "Dude, I don’t even have a cat." I felt a little uncomfortable with the whole cat talking because it was just too weird for The Dude to change the subject from Red Sox baseball to something like that. So, in turn, I changed the subject. "I wonder why we haven’t seen any rednecks. This is Rockwood, Maine!" ::--(Dusty)--:: Dusty’s eye-patch now covered Dusty’s left eye. This meant that Satan now acquired the control of Dusty’s body. "You want a redneck do you? I will give you a redneck!" (-{10}-) With that said; Dusty rubbed both his hands together for quite some time. Then, he took then and grasped The Dude’s neck firmly. From there, he twisted his hands tightly over The Dude’s neck giving him a huge Indian Burn. After what seemed to be short minutes, Dusty released the hold. The Dude gasped for breathe inhaling mouthfuls over and over. Yet, Dusty gave me what I wanted. The Dude certainly had a red neck. Now, you can imagine that The Dude might be just a little pissed off. Well, tell me some person with balls that who wouldn't be? I know that if Dusty would have done that to me, then all hell would break loose. Yet, The Dude took it like a bitch and shook it off. Now, I am not stupid, so I saw something heading Dusty’s way. I know The Dude too well. He wouldn’t just take something like that lying down. (-{10}-) (-{11}-) Well, I called it Mr. Journal. The Dude pointed to something behind Dusty with a shocked look on his face. Then, as Dusty turned back around after looking and finding nothing, The Dude indented his jaw with an echoing right hand. Dusty’s eye-patch no longer covered his left eye and I could tell without looking. Dusty’s face got all scrunched up and turned beet red. From there, you can take a pretty good guess at what happened. Well, you are probably right; Dusty broke down and started bawling like a little boy who just got anally raped by Nasty Nate at a Highway Restroom. Trust me;, it is a loud and ear-rattling screech. I shuddered for minutes past the screech while remembering my last encounter at a Highway Restroom. It reminded me of a horror movie. A horror movie that stared Nasty Nate and his gay companions. I swear that if we had caught it on tape, then any producer who saw it would make it into a movie within the blink of an eye. (-{11}-) (-{12}-) I would tell you about it, but it is just too scary. To tell you the truth; I don’t want to remember it. So, it is a story left unsaid. Now, back to how my day went. Where was I? Oh yes, Dusty was crying his eyes out after being slugged by The Dude. The Dude and I actually felt really bad for Dusty. Well, for two or three short minutes anyway. What could possibly cause us to stop caring? One word, my friend: PIZZA! That’s right; I heard my little number called from the back of the kitchen type place. I won’t be generous. It is more of just a place where they make stuff; rather than a kitchen. Anyway, I ran up to the counter and the clerk delivered to me the two large pizzas. I took then graciously and handed her a twenty dollar bill in return. (-{12}-) (-{13}-) With the pizzas in my grip, I ran back to our booth and set them down on the table top. Dusty caught the scent of the two large pizzas. One acquired extra cheese and the other all the meat available. The extra cheese is my favorite as well as The Dude’s; while all meat happens to be Dusty’s favorite. Dusty saw that I ordered one large all meat pizza and this stopped his tears from flowing. He instantly wiped his tears from his face and looked happier than ever while realizing that I actually thought of him for one second of my day. Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to say he realized that since we all know he doesn’t realize much, if anything. Yet, he knew or somehow came to the thought of it or something. I don’t know how to put it in words. I don’t think anything can put what happens inside Dusty’s head into words for that matter. (-{13}-) ::--(Doozer)--:: I looked up at Dusty and asked him a question. "Are you going to eat or what?" I pause for a second, but not long enough for him to reply. "If you don’t, then I guess I’ll dig in to your meat pizza." I emphasized the words ‘all meat’ since I knew they triggered Dusty’s hunger cells in his body. Well, a lot of things trigger those cells but ‘all meat’ really does the trick. ::--(Dusty)--:: Dusty smiled and slowly removed a piece of pizza from the box in which it lay. Then, he slowly brought it up to his face. From there, he quickly stuffed it all in his mouth and started chewing the big gob of pizza with some difficulty. "This is good!" I don’t know how he did it with his mouth stuffed like it was, but he somehow said those three words. ::--(The Dude)--:: The Dude laughed and shook his head in disbelief. "He is like a black hole." The Dude laughed and continued on. "He virtually sucks in every eatable thing within arms reach." ::--(Doozer)--:: I could see tears starting to form back in Dusty’s eyes. At the moment, I didn’t feel like dealing with a crying monster so I spoke up. "Dusty, don’t worry about it." I had to pause to think about something funny to say. "He is just jealous because he has no testicles." ::--(Dusty)--:: With that said; Dusty cheered right back up. He swallowed his big gob of pizza and before inhaling another he decided to talk. "You have no marbles!" Dusty laughed at himself for a short minute and continued. "Dude has no love machine!" He stopped again to laugh, then spoke up. "His naughty jungle of love has been clear cut!" Dusty stopped to laugh again. Then, when he started talking, he seemed a lot more serious. "Doozer, how do you think you’ll do against Chainz?" ::--(Doozer)--:: This wasn’t even a question to me. "Dusty, I am going to Dooze him and Abuse him like nobody before!" I paused, but not long enough to let anybody reply. "Chainz thinks that he is all that and a bag of potato chips, but he isn’t. The first time we faces was singles competition and it was declared no contest. Then, in our second match. I defeated him in what was merely a handicap match!" (-{14}-) Dusty tried to reply, but I cut him off. Then, I whispered something to the both of them and pointed at the front door. At that very moment, a person walked in the door. His beard was all tangled and dirty. His beard went along good with his flannel shirt and old jeans. His black, steal-toe boots weren’t any better either. I knew from the second I heard his old truck with no muffler, that this guy was a redneck. As we walked past us, we smelled the scent of gasoline and plain old dog shit. The three of us watched him walk up to the counter. From there, he ordered something from the clerk while digging in his right ear with his pointer finger. After getting what seemed to be the problem, he held his pointer finger in front of his face and looked at what he dug out in there. (-{14}-) (-{15}-) Then, while standing slouched against the counter, he maneuvered the good old ass scratch. The famous ass scratch shortly followed by the jock grab and jock scratch. The three of us had accomplished our mission for the day. For that moment, we will be able to sleep tonight and sleep we will. For today was a grueling day out in the woods of Maine. So, here I am sitting down in the driver’s seat of my Ford Escape typing away to you on my laptop computer about how my day went. I’m sorry if I bored you, Journal, but you wanted this job so you got it. For now, I will leave you with two words of wisdom from myself. Mr. Journal, you better be sure to KEEP COOL! (-{15}-)
Sincerely, 
|
