Post by bigdustyhaystacks on May 20, 2017 23:59:58 GMT
"My God..."
Tom Kent's two decades on the force had been long and hard. It showed on his grizzled face and on his graying hair. He'd dealt with gangland executions, serial murderers...you name it, he'd seen it. But on sight of Big Dusty Haystacks hooked into the life support system, his neck bandaged like a mummy where Rogar had sank his teeth into him, Kent had to look away. His captain who'd accompanied him, John Wayne, simply shook his head.
It looked as if Big Dusty had been ravaged by something like a gigantic wolf. How the famed wrestler was even holding on at all, Kent couldn't fathom.
"Officers...please make yourself at home. I'm sorry if I'm not much of company..." the voice was faint and raspy. Still, there was a strength and dignity to it, even here. Even now.
"I believe I know what your business is, good sirs. I can assure you that I am innocent of these," Big Dusty began to cough and then regained his voice. "Charges...but you're gonna have my full cooperation. I have all the respect for your jobs."
Tom Kent couldn't hold himself back anymore.
"These accusations are complete crap! Madman executed Captain Eagle and Sparrow on live TV...I remember that! And to think that anyone could ever believe a word out of that man's mouth...and even if they did, none of the evidence lines up! It's a set-up...and it's crap! For that murdering scumbag to-" Joe put a gentle hand on the impassioned detective's shoulder.
"Point is, Big Dusty...we know you're innocent. But...especially in your condition, it isn't safe for you here. I don't know how or why, but that maniac has been able to twist people into believing all his vile lies about you. Now, me, Tom and the rest of the boys on the force have pooled our cash...and we've plane tickets to get you out of the country...over in America, in Britain, everybody knows who you are...but until we can clear your name in the public eye...well, I've got some connections on the island of Comoros...and I think you'll be safe there Big Dusty."
Big Dusty's vast chest rises and falls apace with his wheezing breaths while the police men exchanged worried looks.
"God Bless you, sirs. God Bless you...you don't know much this means to me." the enormous wrestler rasped.
"We can have you on a flight tonight, Big Dusty. And trust me, we'll make sure you get on safe. We've faced--"
"But I believe I have a bout scheduled for this coming Monday."
The policemen's jaws nearly dropped to the floor.
"Match...? Big Dusty...you can barely breath...not to mention, even if you could, there's no way anyone could guarantee your safety if you walked into that arena..."
"As a lad growing up in Cornwall, my father...he told me he could provide me money, cause he didn't have none to give out. He couldn't provide me all the toys I wanted and he couldn't teach me sport cause he wasn't much an athlete, my dad said. But one thing he said he could give me was his good name. He never did nobody rotten and he was square with his family and square in his dealings. And he says, I gave you that much son...and I'll do my best to teach you right so you can hang onto that and pass it on to your boy someday. Well, every day my father went into them mines, everyday he passed by the pub and went on home to the family...he was building on that name...and I might not be the man he was...but he gave me that name, he valued that name and I'm not gonna let some bully go on and destroy what he spent his life building up."
"But Dusty...you're lucky to even be alive, let alone getting in the ring with that maniac...listen to reason!"
"Nah, gentleman...he might have the good people hoodwinked now, but even a chameleon shows his true colors eventually. He's playing the hero right now, acting like he cares about the little guy. Well I might not be tip-top...but by God, I'm gonna push him. I'm gonna push him hard. I'm gonna fight a good, clean square fight but I am gonna push him. I know I'm gonna bleed, I know I ain't healed...but I'm gonna push him...and then, then everyone is gonna see the truth. Once a bully, always a bully. And even if I can't beat 'em, if I can put 'em against the wall...if I can just stay in it long enough...to make 'em break that phony facade of a hero...then the people will see the truth."
"But, that's practically suicide you're talking about!"
"What it is, dear friends...is the only way. Running from Madman? That'd be like taking my daddy's name and throwing down the trash heap. I'm gonna fight for that name...and I'm gonna fight for all them people Madman's walked over, all them people he's maimed and even killed."
A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed Detective Tom Kent as he realized there was no talking Big Dusty Haystacks out of his plan. Come Monday night...a good man might very well die in the Warrior Wrestling League ring...and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.
Tom Kent's two decades on the force had been long and hard. It showed on his grizzled face and on his graying hair. He'd dealt with gangland executions, serial murderers...you name it, he'd seen it. But on sight of Big Dusty Haystacks hooked into the life support system, his neck bandaged like a mummy where Rogar had sank his teeth into him, Kent had to look away. His captain who'd accompanied him, John Wayne, simply shook his head.
It looked as if Big Dusty had been ravaged by something like a gigantic wolf. How the famed wrestler was even holding on at all, Kent couldn't fathom.
"Officers...please make yourself at home. I'm sorry if I'm not much of company..." the voice was faint and raspy. Still, there was a strength and dignity to it, even here. Even now.
"I believe I know what your business is, good sirs. I can assure you that I am innocent of these," Big Dusty began to cough and then regained his voice. "Charges...but you're gonna have my full cooperation. I have all the respect for your jobs."
Tom Kent couldn't hold himself back anymore.
"These accusations are complete crap! Madman executed Captain Eagle and Sparrow on live TV...I remember that! And to think that anyone could ever believe a word out of that man's mouth...and even if they did, none of the evidence lines up! It's a set-up...and it's crap! For that murdering scumbag to-" Joe put a gentle hand on the impassioned detective's shoulder.
"Point is, Big Dusty...we know you're innocent. But...especially in your condition, it isn't safe for you here. I don't know how or why, but that maniac has been able to twist people into believing all his vile lies about you. Now, me, Tom and the rest of the boys on the force have pooled our cash...and we've plane tickets to get you out of the country...over in America, in Britain, everybody knows who you are...but until we can clear your name in the public eye...well, I've got some connections on the island of Comoros...and I think you'll be safe there Big Dusty."
Big Dusty's vast chest rises and falls apace with his wheezing breaths while the police men exchanged worried looks.
"God Bless you, sirs. God Bless you...you don't know much this means to me." the enormous wrestler rasped.
"We can have you on a flight tonight, Big Dusty. And trust me, we'll make sure you get on safe. We've faced--"
"But I believe I have a bout scheduled for this coming Monday."
The policemen's jaws nearly dropped to the floor.
"Match...? Big Dusty...you can barely breath...not to mention, even if you could, there's no way anyone could guarantee your safety if you walked into that arena..."
"As a lad growing up in Cornwall, my father...he told me he could provide me money, cause he didn't have none to give out. He couldn't provide me all the toys I wanted and he couldn't teach me sport cause he wasn't much an athlete, my dad said. But one thing he said he could give me was his good name. He never did nobody rotten and he was square with his family and square in his dealings. And he says, I gave you that much son...and I'll do my best to teach you right so you can hang onto that and pass it on to your boy someday. Well, every day my father went into them mines, everyday he passed by the pub and went on home to the family...he was building on that name...and I might not be the man he was...but he gave me that name, he valued that name and I'm not gonna let some bully go on and destroy what he spent his life building up."
"But Dusty...you're lucky to even be alive, let alone getting in the ring with that maniac...listen to reason!"
"Nah, gentleman...he might have the good people hoodwinked now, but even a chameleon shows his true colors eventually. He's playing the hero right now, acting like he cares about the little guy. Well I might not be tip-top...but by God, I'm gonna push him. I'm gonna push him hard. I'm gonna fight a good, clean square fight but I am gonna push him. I know I'm gonna bleed, I know I ain't healed...but I'm gonna push him...and then, then everyone is gonna see the truth. Once a bully, always a bully. And even if I can't beat 'em, if I can put 'em against the wall...if I can just stay in it long enough...to make 'em break that phony facade of a hero...then the people will see the truth."
"But, that's practically suicide you're talking about!"
"What it is, dear friends...is the only way. Running from Madman? That'd be like taking my daddy's name and throwing down the trash heap. I'm gonna fight for that name...and I'm gonna fight for all them people Madman's walked over, all them people he's maimed and even killed."
A feeling of helplessness overwhelmed Detective Tom Kent as he realized there was no talking Big Dusty Haystacks out of his plan. Come Monday night...a good man might very well die in the Warrior Wrestling League ring...and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.