Post by Mag Aluf on Jul 5, 2020 22:43:50 GMT -5
Fading back into the scene, the funeral has moved to one of the fields situated in the Hardy Compound. The rain is still falling like bullets, however the various guests share umbrellas for shelter. As the camera pans around the gathering, we see a large hole in the ground next to a pile of fresh, wet dirt. The guests talk between themselves as a man in his mid-fifties steps forward, his long, soaked hair draped thinly down his back and over the shoulders of his now see-through shirt. In a thick Baritone voice, he gains the attention of all.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam
Ladies and Gentlemen, silence please.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam calms the crowd as the six large pallbearers begin their walk to the gravesite, Jeff’s coffin balanced on their shoulders.
Mag Aluf offers a bro-fist as they pass him, as his way of thanking them for travelling from Alberta.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam
Yes I understand, That every life must end. As we sit alone, I know someday we must go.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam begins reciting as the pallbearers place the coffin onto the supports, ready to be lowered into the grave.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam
I wonder everyday As I look upon your face, Everything you gave And nothing you would take. Nothing you would take, Everything you gave
Mag Aluf, Albert, Matt and the Dudleys proceed to each take a shovel and begin filling the grave with the fresh dirt as Jeff is finally laid to rest in the earth. The unrelenting rain pelts the sodden soil, making it that little heavier, although the task was already fairly heavy for a variety of reasons.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam
Nothing you would take. Everything you gave. Hold me 'till I die.
The men finish filling the ground, levelling off the dirt and replacing their shovels. Mag removes the gold chain from his neck, he presses it to his lips, holds it to the sky and drops it onto the grave, before walking back to the rest of the guests.
Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam
Meet you...On the other side.
Eddie Vedder bows his head and steps back. Mag finds himself standing next to an incredibly large bald man, outfitted with various ball-tipped labrets jotting from his lower lip.
Mag Aluf
Ay bro, you’re a big-ass dude, bro. You here for Jeff or the puss bro? These things are like shooting clunge in a barrel bro.
Prince Albert
Got all the puss I need brother. I’m here to pay respects.
Mag nods a little with the man.
Mag Aluf
Yeah bro… Same here bro. Puss is good and all, but death is like, sick man. Fuckin’ dope, bro.
For the first time in recent memory, Mag actually seems slightly uneasy, most likely due to the sheer size of this unit next to him.
Mag Aluf
So, how’d you know my dog? Never saw your gigantoid self around the flat.
Prince Albert
Yeah… not spoken to Jeff in years. Think last time I saw him was in a place called RPW. He was a real good kid, he had potential like I’d never seen… I know his life was on a downward slope but I never thought he’d axe himself off like that. You can’t help but feel like you should’ve done something you know? I have access to a lot of money at the moment, maybe I could’ve reached out? Helped? I dunno.
Mag’s eyes widen slightly at the mention of ‘help’, given Mag’s involvement. Ultimately though, he doesn’t really give a shit - You kill yourself, you’re a fucking loser bro.
Mag Aluf
Yeah man, sure. How much money do you mean bro? Because I can get you a sick fuckin’ deal on the ‘ole disco salt - you get me bro? You get me? D’you get me dog? It’s of paramount fuckin’ importance you get me bro.
Mag twitches a little as he ends his short tangent, he’s got a problem, people. Albert just glares at him in disbelief.
Prince Albert
Are you fucking kidding me? Did I just hear you right!?
Albert stands, looming over Mag.
Prince Albert
Let me tell you one thing right now, friend, there’s only one person who gets to call me ‘Dog’, and it’s not you!
Mag Aluf takes a steady step backwards, bringing his open palms up towards his chest.
Mag Aluf
Ay bro, chill man, okay? It ain’t a thing do-bro.
Mag’s never actually felt the need to watch his words before so the experience shakes him slightly. The usual confidence Mag holds doesn’t seem to stay with him when face-to-face with someone of Albert’s stature. Mag’s demeanour changes, not that Albert would know.
Mag Aluf
Listen Bro. Shit is fuckin’ whack right now, alright? A couple weeks ago I was living the fuckin’ easy life, not a single fuckin’ worry. Then suddenly my fuckin’ bro, my fuckin’ Jeff dies. I didn’t have shit except that fuckin’ dude, man. Shit, bro. Now I live in a fuckin' gym ran by a man I'm fairly certain is a sex offender and I rub up against dudes covered in fuckin' baby lotion for a living.
Albert looks to calm down, looking down at the smaller man before him with sympathy. He nods a few times slowly.
Prince Albert
I’m sorry. I can imagine that hurting. How did you end up meeting Jeff anyway?
The scene transitions via a wave, the usual transition used in TV and films to denote a flashback - whatever they’re fucking called.
Jeff Hardy’s house
Cameron, North Carolina
We see a young woman in a maid outfit dusting various pieces of Jeff Hardy’s shite artwork, as well as an assortment of replica championship belts, one for every real title Jeff had won at the time.
She hears a glass shatter and runs to the source of the noise, a look of panic on her face.
Woman
Irving!
She rounds the corner to find the cause of the smash. Jeff Hardy stands there, holding a small child, no older than 2 years old. On the floor lies the remains of a glass tumbler.
Jeff Hardy
Sorry to startle you Holli, I knocked a glass over and didn’t want little Irving to stand in it.
Jeff hands the child to Holli, who was about to crouch down to clean the mess.
Jeff Hardy
Don’t worry about that Holli. You just look after my little buddy here.
He smiles at Irving, Irving smiles back at Hardy.
Holli
My apologies Mr. Hardy, I appreciate you giving me a job and allowing my son and myself to live here. You honestly saved our lives after his father left.
Jeff offers a small dismissive wave.
Jeff Hardy
Holli, you’re one of my oldest friends - my home will always be yours, and your Irvings.
Jeff finishes cleaning up the glass shards and drops it into the closest trash can. He pats Holli on her shoulder and ruffles Irving’s hair before setting off.
Jeff Hardy
If you need me, I’ll be in the lab.
Holli walks to a small side room which houses a small cot-bed and is adorned with various colourful doodles, designs and stuffed toys. A Hardy Boyz branded mobile hangs above the crib. Holli places Irving into the crib, laying him down and kissing his head.
Holli
Oh how I must thank Mr. Hardy for all he’s done for us. Despite the Meth Lab in the basement - which is incredibly difficult to clean on account of the extremely volatile and flammable chemicals and the illegality of it all, which does add a weight to the old moral compass - this really is a great deal we have here.
She spins the mobile and kisses Irving again before leaving the room, turning the lights off as he does so.
Irving awakes at an unspecified amount of time later, to the sound of a loud boom followed by screaming and bright lights surrounding him. He looks through the slats in his crib to see the hallway outside of his room is almost completely engulfed in flame, pieces of the ceiling hanging on by the electrical wiring of the property. Holli runs towards the room but is caught by falling debris and pinned to the ground. She desperately tries to reach for her child but is unable to due to the crushing weight bearing down onto her small frame. Irving cries as the fire crackles outside of the door.
Suddenly, the window smashes! In jumps Jeff Hardy! He runs to Holli to help lift the debris from her but is unsuccessful due to the weight and heat radiating from the burning ceiling supports.
Holli
Please… Irving…
Jeff gently kisses her hand before standing, turning to grab Irving and taking him to the window.
Holli
Irving… Mommy.. Loves y-
Irving watches as his mother is engulfed in the flames and the house collapses on top of her while Jeff carries him to safety. Once outside, Jeff can be heard almost crying whilst speaking to Matt.
Jeff Hardy
What about Jack, man? Where’s Jack?
Matt Hardy
I don’t know man! The Lab just went up! Hey is that a kid?
Jeff turns and picks up Irving.
Jeff Hardy
He was my maid’s son… His home is with me now, and I’ll raise him as if he were my own.
We wave transition back to Mag Aluf at the funeral.
Mag Aluf
‘09 was a fuckin’ mad one, bro.
Albert just nods, slowly, his face contorted into an expression of bewilderment. Everything he had just listened to was the most obviously fictitious bullshit he’d ever heard in his life. He puts his head in his hands, and breaths out.
Prince Albert
Why do I meet such strange people?
Priscilla Kelly
Doggy!
And at that, Albert perks up, a big smile on his face, his tongue dangling out of his mouth as he pants like a dog. Mag Aluf grimaces. Priscilla Kelly moves over to the pair, long red hair billowing down a very beautiful black dress, fighting tightly to her figure, and showing off plenty of her pale white skin.
Priscilla Kelly
The vending machine swallowed my quarter. I need you to either punch the glass in, or rock it til my Fanta falls down. I’d do it, but I hear that Vending Machines kill around 2 people a year, and if that shit tips over, you have a much better chance of surviving it than I do. I was willing to let you come to this dull fucking thing, so it’s the least you can do for me.
Prince Albert
Yes Mistress Kelly.
Priscilla glances over at Mag Aluf momentarily. She gives him a small smile, before her eyes involuntarily scan him up and down.
Priscilla Kelly
Aren’t you the new guy? You clocked Eclipse with that selfie stick last week, right?
Mag Aluf is taken aback for a moment, he’d never set eyes on a being such as Priscilla Kelly, a woman who actually seemed to have a presence.
Mag Aluf
I’ll be honest but I don’t have a fuckin’ clue what an Eclipse is and I was off my fuckin’ nut on some Grade-A Co-Cah-Een-Ah. But if you think that shit was cool then fuck yeah did I do it, selfie sticks are sick, br-
Mag has to catch himself. Today was definitely a day of firsts for him, he’d seen a corpse flung like a catherine wheel, he’d basically met Eddie Fuckin’ Vedder of Pearl Jam, been told not to call someone dog and actually found the first person he doesn’t feel should be called Bro. Was Mag a feminist now? Probably not but Priscilla Kelly is hot so who fuckin’ knows what’s going through his mind - I don’t and I fucking made him up.
Priscilla Kelly
Oh, okay. Well, if being off your nut on that shit means more results like that bitch Eclipse getting her skull caved in, then I’m the gal you want to impress, cos I can have plenty of that shit sent your way. That is of course…
Priscilla reaches out and squeezes Mag by the balls. He holds in a squeal the best he can, as Kelly clutches his testicles tightly in a vice grip, her breathing warming his nose as she gets up close to his face.
Priscilla Kelly
If you stay on my good side. You’ll stay on my good side, won’t you?
Mag Aluf glances down to his big ‘ole balls and magnum dong, and by extension Kelly’s hand. He barely contains a squeal but by god he manages it.
Mag Aluf
I’ll kill Eddie fuckin’ Vedder if you want.
Priscilla Kelly
I mean- umm, well, I didn’t ask for that. Or anything remotely like that, but it’s nice to know what lengths you’d go to for me. I think we’re on the same page.
She releases his ballsack finally, and Mag lets out a puff of air. Priscilla turns her back to him as she starts to walk away, turning her head to give him one last look.
Priscilla Kelly
By the way, you’re really packing down there. If you ever want to stop by the house, I can do a lot more to those balls than squeeze ‘em.
Priscilla sends a wink his way, before turning and walking off with her doggy in tow.
Mag watches as they leave, silently. Kelly seems to walk in slow-motion as Mag attempts to take in as many of her features and details as possible, He’d never felt something like this before, his heart beating like he was back in elementary school, sniffing glue in the staff lounge. He pulls out his phone, and quickly types in a number before holding it to his ear.
Mag Aluf
Hey bro, yeah I need a ride back to Alberta… Yeah, Alberta, Canada you fuckin’ pedo. And get me some Durex - I’ve just met the future Mrs. Aluf… Some guy called her Mistress Kelly… Yeah that’s the one… She did what? Bro that’s sick… Yeah… Bro, I’d drag my balls through a mile of broken glass to sniff the tire of the garbage truck carrying her used tampon… And yeah, Peking duck bro, the fuckin’ spread here was shit.
Mag hangs up and turns to see Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam typing on his phone.
Mag Aluf
Hey! Eddie fuckin’ Vedder of Pearl Jam!
Eddie turns to face where the voice originated, he offers a wave towards Mag as he continues walking. Right into oncoming traffic. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam is hit by a speeding car, his body rolling onto the hood of the vehicle before being flung into the middle of the busy road. Scratched and bruised, he struggles to get to his feet causing him to crawl back towards the safety of the compound, unfortunately as he is so low to the ground, the driver of the 18-wheeler driving in that lane couldn't see him. Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam lets out a bloodcurdling scream as his head explodes under the tire of the truck with a quick crack and wet squelching.
Mag Aluf
Holy fuckin’ shit bro! Not Eddie fuckin’ Vedder of Pearl Jam!
Mag pulls out a baggy of his signature blend cocaine and takes a fat rip.
Mag Aluf
Fuck sake, he was gonna teach me how to play Corduroy from the 1994 album Vitalogy.
Mag pulls out a baggy of his signature blend cocaine and takes a fat rip.
Mag Aluf
Fuck sake, he was gonna teach me how to play Corduroy from the 1994 album Vitalogy.
We fade out as people rush to the now-headless corpse of Eddie Vedder while Mag walks away in the background.