Title: Snake Nation Welcomes You.
Featuring: "Big Rig" Clyde Walker
Date: 1/19/19
Location: Broken Arrow, Oklahoma
Show: Evolution 39 (Modern Warfare Round 1)



“Sweet titties on fire, we got us one Red Ranger!”

[Crusing down Route 42 - just another road paved for folks of Broken Arrow - a massive 18-wheeler slays with a flat bed that holds the corpse of an enormous alligator.] 

[Driving in the cab, with a can of Coors Light in his left hand, is none other than Big Rig himself - Clyde Walker - with the biggest shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen.]

“Yeehaw! The Fifth Wheel boys are gon’ be eatin’ like son of a bitches tonight. Get that Snake Nation fire pit roasting - and don’t forget the coolah’ of suds. Tonight’s a celebration!” 

[Clyde honks the horn of the semi - which plays the opening riff to “Smoke on the Water” - before hollering out into the open air one more time.] 

Snake Nation 
Broken Arrow, Oklahoma

[Welcome to the rustic foundation of the Fifth Wheel Boys - and their motorhome leader, Clyde Walker. Tonight is indeed a celebration, as Clyde just received one hell of a letter. He’s been signed, sealed, and delivered - with his dick and balls settled perfectly against the chins of the rest of the CWF roster. A dream come true, really, for Clyde, as he’s only known the backyard concept to wrestling. In fact, this is the same experience for all of his boys too. They were all once a part of the “Motherfucking Trampoline Bitch-Smacking Club”. Yes, you read that right. A trampoline wrestling federation - filled with the greatest rednecks that this southern empire of America has ever damn seen.] 

[The boys - and their ladies - gather around a fire, sitting on logs, drinking beers, smoking trees, singing songs about whatever they can think about.  This, to them, is all the paradise money can buy - and then some. This is everything. And they have Clyde to thank - for he bought out this entire park with the settlement he won after nearly getting crushed by a pallate of bug spray, during the latter years of his truck-driving days.] 

[Boogie - one of Clyde’s bestest friends - stands up and raises his beer outward.] 

“Yall’ shut the fuck up now…” 

[Everyone quiets down.] 

“Though he ain’t out here right now, let us salute mah’ brother - Big Rig - for getting his ass in a real wrestling ring. And, ya’ know, for that fuckin’ gator too.” 

[That entire gator that Clyde turned into his bitch was now laying, spread-eagle, over an enormous fire.] 
[Hot Dog - another member of the Fifth Wheel - inquires.] 

“Wait, where da’ hell is Clyde?” 

Clyde’s Bedroom 
You know - in his trailer. 

[Clyde was decompressing, as any man would after a gator kill, sitting on the toilet - reading a newspaper - getting his bone smooched by Betty Foop - a local Fifth Wheel groupie that lives with Clyde, cleans up his messes, cooks his food, and - well - sucks his dick on occasion.] 

“You know what, Foop? I’m a happy son of a bitch right now. Not just because - you know - you’re blowin’ mah’ whistle - but I’m gonna be big man on campus! They ain’t never seen a bad bitch like me. I might be the greatest man alive.” 

[Foop looks up at him with furrowed eyebrows.] 

“Don’t be gettin’ ahead of yo-self, Rig.” 

[Clyde looks down at her.] 

“Excuse me? I killed a damn gator today, woman. And on top of that, I’m now a wrestling supastah’. Why you gotta bring all that reality nonsense down on me? Why can’t you just support your boo?” 

“I support you.” 

“Yeah? Well then finish sucking my dick and let me drop this steamer in peace. I wasn’t asking for your damn opinion anyway.” 

[Foop sighs and goes back to town.] 

Back outside.

[The front door opens up and there’s Clyde - wearing a shirt that only half-covers his beer gut, a trucker hat covering his matty, curly hair - with a beer in his hand. The Fifth Wheel boys turn around, see him, and start hollering.] 

“Let me tell all you motherfucka’s something - I love yall’. And I ain’t gonna let one of you down. I killed that gator for all of you, as a celebration and thank you for pushin’ me. We gon’ rob that place of all of its gold like we pirates, baby, because that’s what we’re born to do. And when I get that gold, the money gon’ be coming in like crazy. And we gon’ build onto Snake Nation - turn this bitch into a compound that the President of ‘Murica would want to stay at.”

[Foop walks past Clyde, wiping his mouth and heading for the gigantic cooler that’s filled with beer. Hot Dog comes up to Clyde and dinks his can of beer against his arm.] 

“I don’t know what we’re gonna do without you, Rig. I mean…” 

[Dog starts to count on his fingers.] 

“Who’s gon’ get us weed?” 

[Clyde nods his head with a smile.] 

“Who’s gon be the party headmaster at night? I mean, nobody can belt a tune like you can - nobody can play host to the festivities like you do, Rig.” 

[Clyde smacks Dog’s back.] 

“Oh don’t you worry. And that goes for all of you boys, because guess what? Yall’ comin’ with me on the road. That’s right, I don’t pave these streets with gold without mah’ chain gang fuckin’ it up right beside me.” 

[Dog is beside himself.] 

“You mean that?” 

[Foop walks back over to Clyde.] 

“What about me? You takin’ me with you too?” 

“Foop…” [Clyde lifts her chin up with her thumb.] “Now who’s going to be mah’ reach-around girl on the road?” 

[Foop smiles.] 

“That’s right. The Snake Nation is going on the road to burn down the bridges in See Dubya, because I ain’t nothing on mah’ own. I ain’t nothing in Broken Arrow without my po’folk working the scene shoulder to shoulder.” 

[The fire roars into the gator, charring it up nicely.] 

“Come on Clyde, don’t be so ignorant to think that you’re going to be unstoppable. Do I have to be the one to mention why the hell you ain’t truckin’ anymore to begin with?” 

[And there’s Bastion - the resident neghead. 74 years old. Clyde’s blood uncle - left in a motorized wheelchair after being hit by a deer, who was running from a hunter. Yes, you heard that right. And Clyde takes care of him because no one else with. The dude is a pain in a the royal ass. And somehow, Clyde tolerates it.] 

“No, Foop took care of that earlier, Bast. We good - thanks.” 

“And another question.” 

“Can I plead the fifth?” [Clyde asks.] 

“No the hell you can’t.” [Bastion follows up.] “You talkin’ about being king this, king that - this is Broken Arrow, ya’fool. You ain’t be out of here your entire life. You goin’ out to see the real world - with real people. Those motherfuckers don’t care about you, and they certainly don’t care about your declarations. So, what happens if you go out there and nobody likes you?” 

[Clyde laughs, taking a swing of his beer before walking over the gator.] “Oh, you think I’m doing this for the favor of getting some likes, old man? You should know me by now.” 

[Clyde’s demeanor changes - and very quickly. He grabs ahold of one of the gator’s legs and snaps it off with little effort. He takes a bite out of it, like it’s a chicken leg, and stares at Bastion. The entire Fifth Wheel crew, that has gathered around the fire, are now quiet.] 

“I don’t need no one but who I got. That’s what mah’ reality is. And if somebody don’t like who I is, then they the enemy. And they the enemy, they’re nothing more than this gator leg. They’ll be bit into and digested, like yesterday’s lunch. When I was truckin’, there were people that didn’t like me - and you know what? Before too long, they stayed away from mah’ roads. If this little motherfucker they got me going against in this tournament don’t like me, then he’ll have to learn what his roads are and what mine are, you feel me Bast? I don’t need you - shit, I don’t need nobody tellin’ me what mah’ holdbacks are, because I’m going in there honestly - as the crazy, Sooner son of a bitch that I’ve always been.” 

“My hero.” [Foop says, as her cheeks grow red.] 

[The Fifth Wheel boys shout into the night air, with some of them firing off their guns as well.] 

[Clyde holds his hand up.] 

“Some of yall’ might be afraid of what’s outside of our little humble Broken Arrow, and that’s fine. You got a home right here - and it ain’t going away. But for those that want to brave out that motherfucker with me, we’s got a bus roarin’ and ready to go tomorrow - paid for by the folks of See Dubya. We’ll bring Broken Arrow to the opposition and shove it right up their pony asses, is what we’ll do!” 

[Clyde and the boys begin hooting and hollering at the scene slowly fades away. Clearly, this is just an introduction into the world of the freebirdin, drinkin, son of a gun Big Rig in Clyde Walker and his boys, but what’s on the horizon once him and chain gang arrive at Modern Warfare in their bus, ready and willing to bring the party of Snake Nation? I guess we’ll see!] 
 



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