Now hear comes the preacher for to save my soul with 13 minutes to go”
--Johnny Cash, ’25 minutes to go’
Hoyt Williams: Alejando what the hell are you doing?
Alejando: I’m cutting up some limes, man.
Hoyt Williams: This is a time of biblical catastrophe as the third horse of the Apocalypse has brought the plague upon my home!! Coronavirus in Chi-town yikes.
Alejando: Yea man, the corona’s!! You’re being dramatic. Corona is good, all you need is a lime in the bottle. Hence the limes.
Hoyt Williams: Not Corona like the beer….Don’t you watch the news Triple A?
Alejando: Fuck that man, to depressing.
Alejando Abejundo Alverez wasn’t wrong, and Hoyt knew it, as the news lately has been a double dose of down-ness. Triple A, as his friends call him (because if you’re broken down he can always pick you up and change your tire) is the man sitting in a recliner. Triple A is a chunky middle aged Mexican American with a well-trimmed mustache and long brown hair that is as wild as a west Texas twister on a dusty flat.
For the last few years Hoyt has been working with Triple A to bring a biblical blend of marijuana to market as soon as the drug was legalized, which just happened in Chicago. Besides that, he’s also in charge of Hoyt’s food division of the massive non-profit church organization known as the Hoyt’s Witnesses. But really, just between you and I, he’s Hoyt’s smoke buddy on days off such as today.
Hoyt’s emotional support cat Meworu Suzuki smiles as he rolls on a pile of cat nip the two humans have spilled on the floor for his delight as it too is the lord’s day of rest even for the felines. If there is a virus issue, that sounds like a human and as Netflix has taught us, “don’t fuck with cats”. Not a fuck or hairball to be given by the mean eyed cat.
Alejando: Hey man when life gives you asthma…remember to breath. Besides, now that we have cut limes we might as well drink some Corona’s and chill until Guy Fieri, or the Corona Light Virus gets here.
Triple A cracks a beer. The noise startles the cat for a second before all three of them start laughing. Hoyt checks the time and realizes Guy Fieri is 25 minutes late. The mayor of flavor town was supposed to stop by to discuss his marketing agreement with our Kyuseishu for his ‘Hoyt Habanero Holy Shit Salsa’ that him and Triple A discovered one smoked fueled night with a food processor and the cooking network on.
Alejando: Maybe he’s doing his stupid hair.
Hoyt ignores the comment as he’s now on the phone with Hotmail.
Hoyt Williams (on the phone): English please. Hello HELLLLLLOOOOO? Yes. Your computer mail thing gave me the Coronovirus.
Alejando: E-mail man….it’s called e-mail.
The savior rolls his eyes at Triple A.
Hoyt Williams (on phone): Fine, yes, tech support. Who am I? WHO AM I? I’m the next CWF WORLD CHAMPION, one hell of a fine American, the Pontiff of the piledriver, the second coming of….hello….hello???? I’m on hold.
Alejando: Tranquilo man, why rush?
Hoyt Williams: First off Alejando, that’s gimmick infringement we can’t use that phrase. Second the drummer of Rush just died this week. It’s like a national holiday for white people from Canada.
Alejando: Do they have any other people in Canada?
Hoyt Williams: I dunno, I didn't go into a Burger King. But you know what they put on french fries in Holland instead of ketchup?
Triple A starts cracking up.
Alejando: Did you just Pulp Fiction me?
Hoyt Williams: Check out the big brain on Brad! Also man there is like a large Indian population known as First Nation. Let’s be PC please.
Alejando: You’re not even making sense man!! Like that didn’t work at all. You have to be more natural when you work in the Pulp Fiction lines.
Hoyt Williams (Back on the phone): Yes hello? Ok, so I get an e-mail from somebody wishing me a “Happy Chinese New Year” and now there is a Coronavirus case in Chicago. You dig? King of Saudi Araba stuff here worming into the king of the Amazon’s phone. You following me computer boy? What do you mean, “no”? Do I have to spell it out for you? The Chinese are trying to take out the one nation under God by sending me, the savior, a virus in my e-mail. What?? What business is it of yours how high I am? What do you work for the Russians Mr. Not SO HOT MAIL ANY MORE MAN? But for your information my residency in on the 33rd floor, so YES I’m high. Now that we’ve established my geographical verticality what are you going to do about this virus, should I call the CDC or shall I?
Alejando: I think the cats high too!
Meowru rolls around rubbing his ears in the carpet for a new sensation that’s blow his world his mouth is wide open as he makes weird noises.
Hoyt Williams (On the phone): Are you a doctor, or a computer tech? Then don’t tell me how viruses work man! I got an e-mail. We know Pigs, humans, Birds, and computers all carry viruses and suddenly all the way from the Wu-tang or Wuhan city in China we get the virus here in Chicago. It’s all over the news, man.
Alejando: Such a downer.
The cat agrees, and yawn as the magic of the ear rub has worn off. He’s now staring at his paws in wonderment.
Hoyt Williams: (on phone): Listen man. Don’t make me have to do all the saving like normal. I have a title match coming up that I must win to save all of humanity, and YOU want ME to go around touching foreheads of sick people and healing them? Look man, Obama screwed up all the health care I can’t afford to take the pay cut and become a doctor. You know this isn’t the olden days when Jesus would just hand stuff out for free. All that got him was a cross, and meeting with the Easter bunny.
A sudden knock at the door scares the cat and everyone in the room. Alejando wanted to argue the good Obama did for healthcare but started staring at his hands in wonderment forgetting his points completely.
Hoyt Williams: (On Phone): FIX THIS HOTMAIL!!! I must go; the Mayor of flavor town is here for official city business.
The miracle worker is not happy as he gets up and makes his way to the door. He opens the large wooden door to see the chubby, flame shirt wearing, stupid hair cut wearing, mayor of flavor town, Guy Fieri. Hoyt stands blocking the door not letting him pass.
Hoyt Williams: Can I help you?
Guy Fieri: Hey Hoyt, sorry I’m late I got stuck in traffic.
Hoyt Williams: The mayor of Chicago stands about 5’0”, is a woman, a lesbian, an African American, who has overcome every obstacle to become a Mayor of American’s greatest city and you know what she’s not.
Guy Fieri: A good golfer?
Hoyt Williams: Now is not the time to be a funny guy. She’s NEVER LATE!! You understand GUY? When people make appointments its mutual understanding of respect. You be here, and don’t waste my time, and I’ll be here and not waste yours. You understand?
Alejando: Hey Hoyt this is a good money deal maybe we can just find an understanding.
Guy Fieri: I mean those are some good points, but you live here, and I have to travel so you have to give some leeway.
Hoyt Williams: Leeway is a fifteen-minute road on the highway of shame. Ok? LEE-WAY if 15 minutes. Not 37. 15. Leeway is closed man. Road shut down. Ran out of pavement 22 minutes ago, running your tires on the road paved with good intentions for about 5 minutes before the dusty dirt path of excuses gripped your tires. Is that a Dunkin Donuts cup in your hand?
Guy Fieri: I stopped for coffee.
Hoyt Williams: Ok?!?! LEE-WAY does not have rest stops. Leeway is a speed lane, man. No stopping. Also, you didn’t bring Triple A or your Kyuseishu any?
Alejando: Yea, that’s kinda bogus.
Guy Gieri: Look MAN I’m sorry, we hit some road construction on Leeway, ok???
The sound of a thud is followed by the sound of a slamming door.
Alejando: Did you just punch him in the face?
Hoyt shakes his fist and smiles as he peeks through the peep hole with great pleasure.
Hoyt Williams: Damn right I did. Tardy is a sin.
Triple A is now a bit concerned as he put’s his beer down.
Alejando: What if he calls the police?
Hoyt Williams: He’s a Nazi!!
Alejando: The flavor of mayor town is a nazi?
Triple A rips a bong hit.
Hoyt Williams: Being a social justice samurai we have adapted great skills of ninja like moves to skirt laws. It doesn’t matter if he’s a Nazi or not. All I have to do is SAY he’s a Nazi, and according the liberal play book also known as Rolling Stone Magazine it’s ok to punch Nazi’s.
Alejando: But like does he believe in Nazi ideology?
Hoyt Williams: Who knows?!? The point is if I call him a Nazi who are they going to believe? The guy who looks like Jesus with the body of an 80’s action movie star, or a fat lazy chef with stupid hair. That hair just reeks of give me a reason to hate you. As soon as he’s accused twitter will jump all over him asking if he’s a Nazi, calling him names, boycotting his products. Now he has to either ignore it, which will just piss off the internet mob or he has to defend himself saying he’s not a nazi. Nothing looks worse than a fat white guy trying to claim he’s not a Nazi, even when he’s not. In 2020 everything is in perfect 20/20 vision clear as day, and as it seems. He just looks goofy. Plus, if he wears one of those stupid shirts people will already know he’s a Nazi because who dresses that bad besides broken humans. It’s just how the world works. If the people are the jury guilt is assumed and proof is the burden of the accused, instead of the accuser. No laws, no trial, just presumption, punishment, and shunning. It’s wonderful. So no, Mr. Flavor town won’t be a problem. Problems are just a label away. Let’s play some Xbox.
Hoyt Williams: I’m in. Oh shit, I forgot I need to cut a promo on Paradine for CWF. Hold on go grab that camera over there. Damn it I thought I was done. Count me down.
Triple A points the camera at Hoyt and starts to film.
Hoyt Williams: Mr. Paradine the state has sent you to the church to face rapture for no showing. When we make a bond, we honor it. That is the foundation of faith.
“James 4:13-15 Now listen, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money." Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, "If it is the LORD's will, we will live and do this or that."
Hoyt Williams (continued): For I am your savior, but CWF as your employer is your lord. So by all accounts you have sinned us both. You have failed. You have violated all that is sacred to the world of GOD, MAN, and WRESTLER. It’s not wise for church or state to intertwine but my friend and follower Mr. Rolash who has supported me since day one has asked for a prayer. For you Mr. Paradine to suffer and learn that being tardy is the devils delight. For I am your teacher. I am your Kyuseishu. Submission is futile as salvation is the goal. Salvation so much better than what you seek of submission. Normally a match is a match to me. A journey for me to the top, while a stumbling block for my opponent who I wish to teach a morality lesson. Much like I did with Artoria. But your lesson isn’t redemption and confidence as it was with our false flag champion. Yours is misery and suffering. It’s been far to long since I’ve made a moral man scream. To hear the hunts of pain echoing from the lungs. To ravage a body with my might and power. This match will be violent. Tardiness is a virus. Once it infects it spreads until it’s out of control and we all die. But I’m a savior. A Kyuseishu. So by my very nature it’s my duty to God and man to eliminate you. Eradicate your very essence. Like that…..
Hoyt blows into his flat raised hand palm to chin. *PooF*
Hoyt Williams: ….he’s gone. Thanks Be to Hoyt.
Triple A turns off the camera.
Alejando: Did you steal that line from the Usual Suspects?
Hoyt Williams: Probably. Turn on madden, pass that bong. I’ll flip ya. I’ll flip ya for real.
“Sleep is one-sixtieth a part of death. A dream is one-sixtieth part of a prophecy”
--Talmud, Berachot 57B