Post by Phil Goode on Jul 7, 2020 5:24:36 GMT -5
It is exactly thirteen hours after one of the most brutal beatings in AWF history. Phil Goode has just been discharged from Mt. Sinai Hospital in Chicago, Illinois, and he is propped outside in a wheelchair… by the designated smoking area.
(Huffing on a Lemon Haze TKO cartridge while trying to remain calm) It’s always ONE step forward… and then ONE knee back. No matter how hard it might be, sometimes you just gotta be the last to arrive and the last ONE to leave.
Both armrests belonging to the wheelchair are occupied by abnormally long and slim bottles. They have mushroom-like caps that do more than just contain the contents within, and a humongous logo that is spells… HOMUNCUMILK.
(Simultaneously shot-gunning the beverages) AHHHHH… shit dude, I feel like a new man! (gulp)
(Slowly standing up from the wheelchair) I don’t even need this anymore. I gotta call Tommy.
Goode reaches for his phone in his mustard-colored velour sweatpants and struggles to find it for a moment. He pulls his phone out and begins dial a number.
(Goode doesn’t even look while he presses the buttons) 6… 7… 8… triple 9… 8… 2… 1… OH goddamnit. What’s the last number man what the f… (breathy sigh) Maybe I’ll just call Tony?
(Attempting to dial another number) 2… 8… 1… double 3… 0… 8… double 0… fo…
(With another particular Houston cadence) Befo’ I came up in da game these hoes didn’t show no love!
(Clearly caught off guard) Uh... I’m sorry to hear that… I guess. Is this Tony?
(With a shit-ton of digital reverb and delay) MIKE JONES!
(Once again) MIKE JONES! I bet dey change dey mind when dem eighty-fo’s come rolling up!
I… do not doubt that at all Michael, my sincere apologies for your troubles with the ladies but… I gotta get ahold of someone. Thanks.
(Spitting with a sped up southern twang) Hit MIKE JONES on da the low cuz MIKE JONES bouta to blow!
(Super-duper confuzzled) Hello? Hi? Please, can you tell me this is Tony? I feel like it's been on a mission looking for this guy.
Yes, it sure is. (With a specific Georgia accent)
What can I do for you? I’m kinda surprised you reached out boss.
(Extremely frantic and stressing out) Hey man, look… I’m in Chicago and I’m at this hospital right now, I’m all banged up. I got banned from Lyft and Uber for some reason, and I don’t know who to can take me to my hotel. I know you have connections from Vinewood to Vice County, so do you think you can help me?
Mhmmmm, I don’t think I have any buddies in Chicago at the moment, sorry pal. You mind me asking what happened? Maybe that can aid my search? I’m just super shocked… it’s been a while man.
Big Horny? Big Hormones? Big Hhhass?
No. Big Homunculus… but that’s beside the point. This other guy really fucked me up. He did a number on me last night man.
Oh… interesting. (Spiteful) I know a little homegrown Georgia boy that you did the same thing to… unfortunately. You had his number since the first episode of Tuesday Night Primetime. And then on the second episode… you really dug in on em. You dialed up on all cylinders and you showed em how to be a real soldier in the field. I don’t think he ever forgave you. I don’t the fans did either. You know… they hate to see their military get kicked down. So… I’m sorry kid, but this aint your dear buddy Tony from around the way. THIS IS TONY SAVAGE. Do me this one favor. Go to hell you miserable sumabitch, I’m sure Lucifer has it nice and toasty for you. Fuck you Phil Goode. You will never be a champion.
(Totally serious and stern) I need 15 of your most expensive phones ASAP.
(Rightfully skeptical) Ahh… ok let me get this straight, you want 15 IPhone 11s?
(Like an obnoxious, snobby, piece of Iowa Park trash) Make it 16 just because you want to question “The Greate Guxxe Gampedee”.
Hi Phil! Your Uber driver Greg is on the way. For more push notifications, please click the link below. Enjoy your ride with Uber Plus.
Phil Goode
(Huffing on a Lemon Haze TKO cartridge while trying to remain calm) It’s always ONE step forward… and then ONE knee back. No matter how hard it might be, sometimes you just gotta be the last to arrive and the last ONE to leave.
With the swiftest of fade in’s, a bulky HUD appears along the four sides of the frame. It shows the amount of life that Goode has left following the disgusting attack on PT7, his actual net worth (which is definitely in the seven-figure range), a radar that tracks his every last movement, his respect level (in AWF), and the current time.
Both armrests belonging to the wheelchair are occupied by abnormally long and slim bottles. They have mushroom-like caps that do more than just contain the contents within, and a humongous logo that is spells… HOMUNCUMILK.
Phil Goode
Goode’s life bar has now grown immensely. It started at a concerning 15% but then (after a double shot of milk) it rocketed to an almost healthy 75%.
Phil Goode
(Slowly standing up from the wheelchair) I don’t even need this anymore. I gotta call Tommy.
Goode reaches for his phone in his mustard-colored velour sweatpants and struggles to find it for a moment. He pulls his phone out and begins dial a number.
Phil Goode
(Goode doesn’t even look while he presses the buttons) 6… 7… 8… triple 9… 8… 2… 1… OH goddamnit. What’s the last number man what the f… (breathy sigh) Maybe I’ll just call Tony?
Phil Goode
(Attempting to dial another number) 2… 8… 1… double 3… 0… 8… double 0… fo…
The phone rings. The cellular device rings again. The mobile connection device rings for the last time. It gets picked up on that ring.
?
(With another particular Houston cadence) Befo’ I came up in da game these hoes didn’t show no love!
Phil Goode
(Clearly caught off guard) Uh... I’m sorry to hear that… I guess. Is this Tony?
?
(With a shit-ton of digital reverb and delay) MIKE JONES!
MIKE JONES
Phil Goode
MIKE JONES
(Spitting with a sped up southern twang) Hit MIKE JONES on da the low cuz MIKE JONES bouta to blow!
Phil Goode has had enough of Michael Jones’ antics and ends the call abruptly. He redials MIKE JONES’ number but this time, he changes the area code and replaces the fo’ with a 2. The phone doesn’t get the chance to ring because of how fast it is picked up.
Phil Goode
(Super-duper confuzzled) Hello? Hi? Please, can you tell me this is Tony? I feel like it's been on a mission looking for this guy.
Tony
Yes, it sure is. (With a specific Georgia accent)
What can I do for you? I’m kinda surprised you reached out boss.
Phil Goode
(Extremely frantic and stressing out) Hey man, look… I’m in Chicago and I’m at this hospital right now, I’m all banged up. I got banned from Lyft and Uber for some reason, and I don’t know who to can take me to my hotel. I know you have connections from Vinewood to Vice County, so do you think you can help me?
The voice on the other lines examines the situation further. He is hesitant to offer assistance and it shows.
Tony
Mhmmmm, I don’t think I have any buddies in Chicago at the moment, sorry pal. You mind me asking what happened? Maybe that can aid my search? I’m just super shocked… it’s been a while man.
Phil Goode
(Quickly agitated and quick-tempered) Lemme make this long story short. This guy who really believes he’s Walker, Texas Strangler… tried to make himself famous last night. This commando chump interrupted the best match of the night, MY MATCH… with this giant freak that everyone seems to love; Big H.Tony
Big Horny? Big Hormones? Big Hhhass?
Goode chuckles a bit but is still in some pain despite slurping on that super drank.
Phil Goode
No. Big Homunculus… but that’s beside the point. This other guy really fucked me up. He did a number on me last night man.
Tony
Oh… interesting. (Spiteful) I know a little homegrown Georgia boy that you did the same thing to… unfortunately. You had his number since the first episode of Tuesday Night Primetime. And then on the second episode… you really dug in on em. You dialed up on all cylinders and you showed em how to be a real soldier in the field. I don’t think he ever forgave you. I don’t the fans did either. You know… they hate to see their military get kicked down. So… I’m sorry kid, but this aint your dear buddy Tony from around the way. THIS IS TONY SAVAGE. Do me this one favor. Go to hell you miserable sumabitch, I’m sure Lucifer has it nice and toasty for you. Fuck you Phil Goode. You will never be a champion.
“Fuck you Phil Goode. You will never be a champion” plays in his head like a sampleable loop while he realizes that he was not only hallucinating but he wasn’t even holding a real phone. The pain and displeasure, however, is 100% real. A hospital band is still wrapped to his wrist and his physical attributes are all clearly printed. He has been limping and hobbling around a local T-Mobile for an eternity. With no ride and no phone, Goode approaches a representative that has been watching him for the last 20 minutes and says…
Phil Goode
(Totally serious and stern) I need 15 of your most expensive phones ASAP.
T-Mobile Rep.
(Rightfully skeptical) Ahh… ok let me get this straight, you want 15 IPhone 11s?
Phil Goode
(Like an obnoxious, snobby, piece of Iowa Park trash) Make it 16 just because you want to question “The Greate Guxxe Gampedee”.
Per request, 16 brand-new IPhone 11s are brought to the front desk. “Guxxe” waits patiently for each phone to be activated and protected with an Otterbox case. He creates a new Gmail account and starts downloading Uber Plus on every last one of the devices. As soon as the app downloads on each phone, “The Greate Gampede” calls for a driver and relaxes the buzzing noise of 16 different Uber notifications.
Automated Text Message 1/16
Hi Phil! Your Uber driver Greg is on the way. For more push notifications, please click the link below. Enjoy your ride with Uber Plus.
“Gampedee” walks out of the store with two arms worth of phones and sits on the curb peacefully. Injured knee and all.