Thursday, November 11th - Midday - Miami, FL
The tires of the Harley cruise the pavement as the bike roars like only a HD can. The destination? Miami International Airport. The sun has been amazing, and the gyms have provided nothing but the best equipment. But now, that has come to an end. It's time to head back to Canada in preparation for Northern Crown. Another horn honks as the bike cruises into it's lane. The rider of the bike could care less.
Of course, you wouldn't give two shits either if you were seven feet of pure destruction.
However, as always, the fun has to come to an end. The red and blue lights begin to spin, catching the rider's eye and causing an instant scowl to come across his face. Fucking police. His entire life they had been nothing but a problem for him. So what if he had a few too many and would start fights in bars? He's seven feet tall. Are you going to stop him? Of course not.
The Harley rumbles forward before moving back to the right and turning into a nearby parking lot with the cop's car following closely behind. The rider doesn't give two shits that he's blocking the pathway as he parks his bike and cuts the engine before balancing it. He doesn't move until the officer behind him approaches and yells for him to get off of the bike. A snarl across his face as he steps off and turns to see the much smaller officer approaching, hand on his side arm that resides in his unsnapped holster.
"Let me see your hands!"
What an insult. You want these hands? He could give them to you, you know? When you're the size of the rider, you don't raise your hands in surrender to nobody. Instead, the rider just slightly turns his hands showing that his palms are empty.
"Move over here, slowly... I SAID SLOWLY!"
Being treated like a common criminal because of his size and appearance has always been a factor in the rider's life. Profiling at it's finest. The rider takes it in stride though, stepping over to where the officer is pointing.
"Do you have any weapons on you? Huh? Ever been arrested before?"
The officer begins to do a pat down on the rider who just stands there, thinking of the ways that he could easily break the person touching him.
"Do NOT answer any of that!"
A loud bang is heard. The police officer spins around and draws his firearm, but does not fire as he sees the small scooter jump the curb and come barreling toward him. Instead he opts to leap out of the way. The scooter waddles but catches grounding as the rider of it throws his legs out to stop himself. He quickly clicks the engine off and grabs the sides of his helmet, removing it.
It's Dick Fury.
"YOU! OFF OF THE SCOOTER! NOW! NOW!"
Fury just smirks, looking over at the other rider, who has yet to move an inch.He pops the helmet on the handle bar and gets off of the scooter, turning to face the officer who still has his weapon drawn.
"Dick thinks you should probably put that thing away."
The cop's hand is shaky and sweat pours down his eyebrow as he continues to point the weapon.
"Who the hell are you?"
Dick looks around, motioning to himself in disbelief. He then looks over and points at the other rider.
"His manager and for right now, council. Till you can say what the problem is... other than pointing that gun at us."
The cop moves his aim to the original rider then back to Dick, then to the original rider.
"PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD!"
Dick just scoffs.
The copy quickly uses his free hand to hit the radio button on his shoulder, calling for immediate backup.
"The way Dick sees it, until you explain why not only you pulled his associate over but are now pointing that gun and calling for backup, you can just go ahead and keep your orders to yourself."
The rider of the Harley clenches his fist, making the officer even more nervous. Suddenly, a second car swoops into the lot with another officer quickly leaping out, weapon drawn.
"What's going on here partner?"
Without missing a beat, the first officer reports back.
"The big one cut off a car back there. When I started questioning him, the little one..."
Dick raises a finger up.
"Also big actually.. real big."
The cop inches forward.
He continues his report.
"He comes in here like a bat out of hell saying he represents this first guy and for him to not do what I say!"
"Actually, that he doesn't have to answer."
The second cop asses the situation before holstering his service weapon. He begins to head over.
"Put your God damn gun away Martin. For Christ sakes."
The first officer looks at him with questioning eyes.
"Do you know who these two are? This is the wrestler, Dick Fury... and the new guy he manages.."
Dick cuts him off.
"The First Apostle... Austin Bishop."
Finally, the cop lowers his weapon.
"I honestly don't care who the hell you are. When an officer of the law tells you to do something, you damn well do it."
The second officer puls him to the side, and tells the first officer to go wait by the car that he has this handled, before walking over to Dick and Austin.
"You boys have your license on you?"
Both men pull their wallets out, opening them and retrieving the cards. They hand their license over to the officer who begins to examine them.
"Mr. Bishop and... Mr. Wingate.. if I run these, are they going to come back valid?"
Austin gives a look at the officer but nods.
"Dick always keeps his papers up to date."
The officer looks at the bike and the scooter then back at the first officer.
"Martin there says you cut somebody off. This true?"
Austin Bishop stays silent for a moment before giving a one word response.
The officer thinks for a few then looks at Dick.
"You two heading to the same place?"
"Airport. Got a show is coming up in Canada, where if you let the conveyor of destruction go, you can witness him in all of his glory as he rips Jon Stewart's pawn's head off... figuratively speaking.. umm.. officer."
The officer scratches his head and thinks for a moment before handing the IDs back.
"I'm gonna go ahead and let you off with a warning this time guys. But riding motorcycles..."
He looks at Dick's scooter.
"...and whatever you want to call that thing, on Miami roads requires you to take caution. Not just for others but yourselves as well."
The officer turns and heads back to the other officer, letting him know what he was doing. Austin and Dick watch on, and wait until the two police cars have left before Dick turns to Bishop.
"Glad he didn't run Dick's license. That shit's been suspended since sixteen."
Austin just laughs.
Dick shakes his head.
"You coulda got Dick shot you know? That woulda ruined plans to stomp ass and take names."
Austin Bishop doesn't look phased.
"They didn't run the plates did they?"
"Good. Cause Dick knows this shit is stolen."
He laughs as Austin heads back to his bike. He turns to Dick.
Fury just begins to laugh like a maniac as they both get on their bikes and start them up.
"On to the airport Austin.. then Canada, so Franklin Fredrickson can get a punch while Dick does a line!"
He starts to laugh again as he places his helmet on and the two take off toward the next step in their destiny.
"The concession stands are now selling those cheap hotel room round soap disks that I have personally blessed for $100’s a bar….AND SINNERS….I suggest you buy one, and use it, because if you think your God wants you in his heaven smelling like a 3am New York City uber ride you got another thing coming."