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Ice Cold Day after

Nate Mac

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“The IceMan” Nate Mac just out of the shower, robe wrapped and tied, his hair combed back and beard oil and balm rubbed in, sits on his bed thinking back to Lution and his match for the Pride Title. He gave the retaining champion, Rust Chole, and that Elmer Fudd, Mr. McGoo Cort Marshall and ass whoopin they won’t soon forget. “All for naught“, his inner voice pipes in. Yes, all for naught, he failed to bring the gold home, unlike his mentor, brother and fellow wolf of the Vanguard, Tre Golden.


“I had it, then I fuckin blew it” repeating and echoing through his mind and conscience. He grabs the flask under the pillow, opens it and takes a swill so deep it would dry the Nile, then tosses it at the door and mumbling what sounds like “fuggemfuggemall”, then grabs the bottle of Honey Jack Whiskey; which was calling his name, and introduces his insides to the contents of the bottle.


He starts to remember Matteo. That rotten bastard cheap shotted him with a chair then had his little cricket attack him, remembering all he heard was “No Mercy”. Payback is coming, oh the plans are formulating, luckily the measures were set in place prior to the Iceman playing Russian roulette with pain meds and whiskey.


Iceman whispering No mercy. Yes, that’s *hiccup* it. Show no *hiccup* no mercy. Why didn’t I think of that? Hah ha ha *hiccup* ha.


Iceman’s phone rings, which, a drunken Iceman answers without hesitation Mmhell*Hiccup* shhh listen, ...hi.


Caller Look at yourself. You’re a Got Damn pathetic drunken loser. Blame it on chili powder, or whatever excuse you want to hide behind, the fact of the Matter “Iceman” Nate Mac, is I told you so. You always fail to close the big deals. If there’s anything you exceeded in, it is failure. Why Do I even waste my time with you? But let’s just call it a mutual interest of what goes on here.


Nate Mac Fuggoff Saul *hiccup* dig iiiiiiiiiit. Fugouttamyear.


Saul You still owe me an exclusive, even though I was promised an interview with the Uh “New and Improved” Pride Champion. Oh well, I guess we can still carry forward. We have hit a little snag.


Nate Mac Don’t you try to hustle me or change the deal you sumamabitch!


Saul No, no, hear me out, there are waivers of liability that I am having my attorney look over, for your company and my company’s protection. You’re not known for keeping a cool head but rather attack first and ask questions later.


Nate Mac Ha Ha! Yeah cause I wanna knock your ass out punk, but. I won’t hurt ya, like I agreed. One thing I am, is a man of my Word, for your own sake, it would behoove of you to Be the same. Or my drunk loser ass will pummel you right then. Remember you will be within snatchyoass up distance. Fuggin weasel.


Mac hangs up sends a quick text throws his phone and lays down with the bottle still in hand, he begins to attempt to drink his self doubt and disappointment away. The bottle is losing the battle tonight, Mac’s thoughts are the match on replay, every move, every punch, kick and slam, until his eyelids betray him and he passes out, with a death grip on the bottle.

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The Iceman has spoken. Dig It!
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