Voices: Cheers!
Glasses clink and country music plays on the jukebox as Darren Pesinger and Jack Ripper sit at the corner table of a scruffy-looking roadside bar, each with a pint of chilled beer in front of him. Darren is in his usual cowboy attire - a wifebeater, jeans, and cowboy boots, with a white Stetson hat on his shaved head. He is sprawled across half the lenght of the seat, arms outstretched, in a posture of extreme relaxation. Next to him, in a dapper white shirt with an open neck, black fitted blazer and designer jeans, sits Jack Ripper, hunched forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped together, and what looks like a permanent grin on his features.
As "The Boys Are Back in Town", by Thin Lizzy, starts up on the jukebox, the cowboy smiles, jerking a thumb towards the jukebox:
Darren Pesinger: We should totally use that as our theme song...
Then, he looks around, soaking in the rugged atmosphere, and lazily drawls:
Darren Pesinger: So how come ya decided ta come back? Thought you was burned out on this bullshit...
Jack nods, taking a sip of his beer:
Jack Ripper: So did I. But it turns out fashion design can only keep my interest for so long. Blame my genes...
The young wrestler turns to look Darren in the eye, as he completes his sentence:
Jack Ripper: And besides, I was missing my favourite grouch...!
The fashion designer leans forward to squeeze Darren's arm, but the cowboy recoils in horror, shooting frantic glances around as he hisses:
Darren Pesinger: Are ya high?! Don't do that in here!
Jack Ripper: I'm sorry, bro...but what's wrong? Why not?
Darren is still looking apprehensively around, and seems mightily relieved when Bambi Juggs returns from the toilet and sits down by his side again. He grabs a hold of the escort almost frantically, groping and kissing her as he continues to glance towards the corner. Puzzled by his friend's behaviour, Jack continues to ask:
Jack Ripper: Darren, what's up? What's going on, bud?
Faced with his partner's lack of answer, however, the oldest of the Ripper clan chooses instead to get up and head towards the toilet.
Jack Ripper: I'll be right back.
Darren, still busy asserting his masculinity, takes no notice of his partner's words until a good few moments later, when he suddenly raises his head from Bambi's neck and asks:
Darren Pesinger: Where's Jack?
The call-girl shrugs:
Bambi Juggs: Ah d'no'...said 'e was goin' to th' john or sum'thin'...
The hooker tries to pull her date back down towards her neck, but Darren's mind is now elsewhere, as he looks around:
Darren Pesinger: An' ya let him go?! In here, ya dumb bitch?!
The blonde shrugs again:
Bambi Juggs: Well y'all ain't told me not to...
Hearing these words, the cowboy vociferously berates the streetwalker once more, then sets off in the direction of the restrooms. By that point, however, it is too late: Jack is already coming back, blissfully unaware that he is being followed by a mountain of a truck driver, clad in ripped denim, his arms covered with tattoos, and a mean-looking goatee growing on his chin. He waddles up to Darren - who is not a small man, but is still dwarfed by this hulk - and drawls:
Trucker: Y'all care ta 'xplain ta me why yer fancy-ass friend likes ta check out other guys in th' john?
Jack's eyes widen in horror, as he looks back and forth between the trucker and Darren.
Jack Ripper (gasping): I...I didn't...Darren, I DIDN'T!
The trucker, however, seems to pay the smaller man's protestations no mind, as he now asks:
Trucker: What's yer name, boy?
Jack stares down the hulk defiantly, eyes burning, as he answers:
Jack Ripper: Jack...
The trucker guffaws, turning to his friends as he points at the middleweight:
Trucker: Jack-ass...!
The other drivers all laugh, as someone begins to play an old song in the jukebox: "hit the road, Jack, and don't you come back no more...". The laughter increases, as the first trucker now turns to the tag team partners once again:
Trucker: Well Jack, lemme tell ya somethin', son...we don't take too kindly to your kind in here...
Hearing these words, Darren immediately steps in:
Darren Pesinger: 'His kind'? He's human, same's you 'n' me! Two arms, two legs, one pecker, an' more of a brain than y'all combined!
As Jack tries to soothe his partner, gesturing for him to calm down, the redneck driver chuckles, then feigns sorrow:
Trucker: Well well...who'd'a thunk...this one's a smurf too! An' with such a purty laydee over thurr as well...such a waste...
This is too much for Darren, who - as Bambi flirts with the driver from a distance - grabs a nearby bottle and breaks it on the counter, pointing the shards at his chastiser. The trucker responds by grabbing a pool cue, and the scene seems set for a bar room brawl, until Jack begins to forcibly drag away a thrashing and cursing cowboy:
Darren Pesinger: Lemme go Jack! Gawd fuckin' dammit! Lemme at that jackass!
All the yelling and raving do the Southerner no good, however, as his partner continues to drag him out of the bar, to the sneering taunts of the truck driver:
Trucker: Tha's right...go witcher boyfriend, ya pussy! Git outta here! Candy-ass!
Once they are outside the bar, Darren turns against, and thumps, Jack:
Darren Pesinger: Whatcha do *that* for? Ya done 'barassed me!
The fashion designer, however, retains his cool as he answers:
Jack Ripper: *Because*, shit-for-brains, you have a *match* tonight. And the last thing we need is to have you in a bar fight right before that. You don't wanna get us *both* fired from ACW, do you?
Darren stares at his partner, astonished:
Darren Pesinger: They signed you?!
Jack Ripper: Yeah they signed me. Duh. Now c'mon, I know a better bar around here.
The cowboy eyes his friend suspiciously:
Darren Pesinger: It ain't no queer bar, is it?
Jack Ripper (exasperated): *No*, Darren, it's not a 'queer bar'. Now would you move it?!
And with these final words, the two friends, followed by Bambi, head back to Darren's battered old pick-up truck, and prepare to head for greener pastures.