Teenage Bray Wyatt was freaking pissed, "What's up with Ronnie," he said to no one in particular while watching his reflection in a spiderwebbed mirror doing some reps with his freakin' huge dumbbells, "he isn't even my real dad or even my mom's second husband. He's just another Bossier City roughneck with a crappy attitude and badass truck. The worst part is how he uses his Christianity to control my mom and me and not let me do all the badass stuff I want to do like hang out in cemeteries, watch wrestling, and hook up with thick-thighed voodoo priestesses."
Some combination of the really long-winded speech he just gave his mirror and doing so many reps with a freakin' huge dumbbell left out of breath. He needed to recharge and he knew just how to do it, his special recipe of Swamp Fried Steak with a mixture of grits, cornbread, and BBQ flavored Lays Potato Chips in the crust. His mother warned him that eating like that would make him husky and he always reminded her that he needed it to grow strong and he wasn't a freakin' vegetarian rabbit vegetarian. She would then counter that there are other dietary options in between being a vegetarian and eating several Swamp Fried Steaks a day and then he would typically say something like "Wells it my life and if I want to be a bad ass I am gonna be a freakin' bad ass so go make me another Andro shake or I might "forget" Mother's Day again this year."
However, today teenage Bray's mom was away on a business trip to give a presentation at a conference in Baton Rouge for jewelers and watch repairmen so he would have to make his own damn Andro shake to go with his Swamp Fried Steak. He already got in a huge fight with Ronnie, a fight that should not have happened at all. Bray could not believe that his newest step-dad would just walk in his room without knocking. What made it worse was that Bray was spending a very, very private and intimate time with himself and a big argument started. By the time it was done Ronnie took not only his magazines and videos but his belt as well saying it what he was doing with it was way too dangerous for a 15 year old to do and he didn't need to experiment like that yet, if ever at all. Bray was still too angry and embarrassed to wonder if Ronnie might be right.
Teenage Bray was assembling all the ingredients for the Swamp Fried Steak with Andro Shake when he realized he was short on BBQ chips and didn't have enough milk for a full 24 oz shake and his mom wasn't even freakin' there to take to the store. He thought about Ronnie's bad ass truck and the fact that he was upstairs and already asleep. Bray was mostly finished with driver's ed and even though he was still several months away from being 16 he was already tough enough to drive that really bad ass truck to the store for chips and milk so he grabbed the freakin' truck keys from the hanger by the door and within seconds he was on the road to Shreevesport.
It was a 13 minute drive to town from where they lived on the outskirts of town in a tract home subdivision filled with roughnecks, casino employees, and their families. They were tough people that had seen a lot but they also had good-paying and stable jobs taking the tension out of their daily lives that plagued so many people that surrounded them. They were lucky and they knew it and while teenage Bray wished there was at least a drummer in his neighborhood so he could start that White Zombie cover band he had wanted to start ever since the previous summer, he appreciated that his mom and Ronnie did buy him a bad ass guitar, freakin' huge amp, and a freakin bad ass weight set. It's just that Ronnie wasn't his real dad and was busting Bray's chops way too much - that and he needs to learn how to freakin' knock before entering a tennagers room.
When he was pulling onto the service room, Bray took the corner too fast and do his lack of experience since he was only 15 years old and stealing a bad ass truck he overcorrected and ended up in the shoulder. When the big Dodge came to a stop standing in the headlights 6.66 feet away was a middle-aged man with longish hair, a blond goatee, and a X smeared across his forehead. He was wearing a black tank top and Bray saw that this guy was freaking ripped. It was evident that this guy was a bad ass and the first thing Bray wondered was if he played the drums and lived in the area. The second thing was if he had any weight-lifting tips. The third thing was how he ended up sitting in the truck beside Bray without opening the truck door. The man looked at the severely freaked out teenager and said, "If you give me a ride to Longview I will answer your questions but first to prove I am for real I will offer this advice to you - never use a braided or cloth belt because they will leave marks that last for days, stick to leather belts or use some form of dog collar. There are others out there like you and I can guarantee we are more accepting and strong than whoever your parents are these days."
After 8 seconds of silence Bray freakin' gunned that bad ass Dodge Ram truck and was on his way to Longview.
The 5'11", 250 pound stranger did not say a word until they were on the other side of Shreevesport. He began by saying, "I have led dozens of men and Woman into battle against the strongest this or any other country has to offer. I have turned men of the upmost stature into minions of the devils that surround my soul. These dark warriors follow my every command and many say they worship me as their god. I know this is not true and what I feel is true is something much darker and unsettling. I using my mastery of the dark arts to travel from North Florida to East Texas to take care of some personal and violent business and I appreciate the assistance. Some have referred to me The Taskmaster, many think of me as Lucifer, and all know me as the Prince of Darkness. Call me Kevin."
Bray's mind could not comprehend this stroke of good luck and immediately asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he first saw the stranger, "Do you play the drums and like White Zombie?"
"No and hells yeah. Why?"
"I've been looking to start a White Zombie cover band. I know how to play 9 of their songs on the guitar and practice them a lot when I am not lifting freakin' heavy weights."
"I appreciate your enthusiasm. I think it would be better suited to one of your interests."
"Which one?"
"Weight training but add some cardio and you should focus more on your diet. There are ways of getting protein without turning so husky."
Bray thought on what Kevin was saying. He liked the idea of getting into shape like some sort of warrior but did not like what he was implying about his weight. He knew that if Kevin ever had just one Swamp Fried Steak he would be become a believer as well. Those steaks are that damn good. He then had another question for Kevin:
"How did you know what I was using my braided belt for?"
"It left red marks in the shape of a braided belt around most your neck. You have to be careful with that stuff. Things can go wrong quick, trust me. Or don't. But seriously you probably should not be doing that yet and wait until you're older and have a lookout with you. I would tell you more but you are young and as much freaky stuff as I have done I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you."
Bray understood and immediately felt the need to change the conversation to something with less sexual overtones,
"I appreciate a man with a blond goatee and such big muscles. I am glad you are wearing a tanktop so I can see so much of your arms, shoulders, chest, and all those freakin' bad ass muscles you have."
"Thanks kid, I work out a lot. I tell people I made a deal with the ultimate evil but really I only made a deal with myself to work hard, keep a positive attitude, and eat right. Seriously Bray, you need to make sure you watch what you eat because someone with your body type can potentially turn husky especially if you don't add more cardio to your workout regime."
"What do you use those muscles for? Do you work in the oilfields? Are you a Tampa Bay Buccaneer?"
"Even better - I am a professional wrestler."
"Bad ass."
"Hells yeah."
"How did that happen?"
"I started working out, converted weak souls with strong muscles into a satanic cult, and after those first two steps it sorta just happens. I also may or may not be in the league with the devil."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Bad ass."
"Yep"
"What are you gonna do in Longview? They only thing I know about that town is the only thing worse than the city is the people that live in it."
"I freakin' agree," Kevin said, "but do you like good music?"
"Didn't I already tell you about my love of White Freakin' Zombie?"
"Do you like old stuff as well?"
"Like, Pearl Jam?"
"Older?"
"Maybe, I haven't really listened to anything older than Pearl Jam."
"Well a buddy of mine is pretty much the toughest Elvis imaginable. Even tougher than the real Elvis, and I would know. Long story."
"Cool. What's his name?"
"Honky Tonk Man."
"What sorta honky tonk man?"
"No, thats his name: Honky Tonk Man."
"Oh, I get it. It's Honky Tonk Man not he's a honky tonk man. I understand the difference now."
"Well anyway, he is playing a show followed by a wrestling match at the Longview High School Auditorium. They are paying me $625 to show up."
"Wrestlers get paid $625 a night? That's bad ass!"
"Four or five times I was even paid more. Now if you would could you drop me off about 2 blocks from the high school, I really don't want to be seen with a teenager with belt burns around his neck. That and I look like a freakin' bad ass when I just walk up out of nowhere."
Bray's mind was blown as he dropped off his new friend Kevin Sullivan behind a car wash. He knew what he must do lift weights, do cardio, get a group of followers with strong muscles and weak souls, but first there was a Food Lion outside of Shreevesport he needed to hurry and get to before it closed because with his mom out of town those Swamp Fried Steak and Andro Shakes weren't gonna make themselves.