I have always been a huge Stone Cold Steve Austin fan and seeing him these past couple of weeks on Raw has got my brain flowing to an idea for a possible story. I owe no one but Samantha.
Sam hurriedly pulled her pick up truck into the parking spot of Big Heads, the local bar that she worked out. She didn't understand why she was in such a rush; no one ever came into the bar on Monday nights except for the locals. Mondays were nights that Sam could sit on the bar, eat and study for any upcoming tests. Truth be told, this was really one of favorite nights out the week. She didn't have to pretend to be interested in every pretentious, jackass that walked through the door. She could sit there and chill.
"You're late." Sam's boss Joe pointed out to her as she ran up the steps.
"You love me." Sam stuck her tongue out at the older man and set her book back down on the counter. She quickly wrapped her long wavy hair in a clip, letting a couple of pieces fall down to frame her face. She grabbed a Coors Light and placed it in front of a customer.
"Here you go, Fred." She winked at the older gentlemen engrossed in the TV and grabbed a cigarette out of bag. She lit one up and stared to study like any other typical night.
Steve Williams and Mark Callaway were riding through the small town of Yardley, Pennsylvania when they spotted a little bar on the corner.
"Beer?"
"Hell, man, when have I ever turned down a beer?" Steve quickly made a right and parked next to a tricked out Dodge Ram. There were only about three cars in the parking lot which made both men happy. Doing the day, the two men lived there lives as Stone Cold Steve Austin and the Undertaker. When they weren't in front of the camera, they fiercely protected their privacy.
Walking up the steps, they took a seat by the bartender, who was sitting on top of the bar, with her back turned to them and her head down.
"Miss?" Sam turned around. These were two faces that she had never seen before. She quickly jumped off the bar and straightened out her tank top.
"Sorry about that. How can I help you?"
"Two Budwisers and two shots of Jack."
"Two men after my own heart, I like that. Hang on." Sam turned around and bent over to grab two beers from the freezer. The two men watched with wide eyes, then looked at each other.
"Here you go. If you need anything else, just let me know." With that Sam quickly moved over to the other side of the bar, as to not disturb the two men.
"Damn…" Mark softly murmured under his breath.
"You can say that again." Steve shook his head and sipped his beer. The whole way from the arena, Steve was thinking about the offer that Vince had made him a few hours prior.
"So what's going on in that brain of yours?" Mark downed his shot and looked at his friend. Mark and Steve had been close friends since Steve first was brought into the company. They were both Texans who loved beer, whiskey, hunting and wrestling. Both men stuck together through thick and thin. It was a little clique full of the older generation who had stepped in, carved a name for themselves while making other superstars in the process. There was a mutual respect between the two men that was unparallel.
"Vince called me in his office." Steve announced with that big deep drawl. "He's really pushing this last match."
Mark nodded as he finished his beer and motioned for Sam to come back over with a refill. "So what's the problem? Everyone wants that last match to be something great that all the fans will remember."
"He wants me to wrestle Terry."
"Oh." Mark winked at Sam and turned his attention back on his friend.
"I get it. I really do. He's immortal and all that good shit, but I don't like his politics never did. That's why I didn't work with him before. The man's name is already carved in history. I don't understand why he can't help others reach the top. There is no one that's going to take his spot. Shit, a lot of us wouldn't have jobs if he didn't do what he did back in those days. All I'm sayin' is that how the fuck is it going to look my final match, I get pinned with a leg drop? A fucking leg drop." Steve finished off his beer and motioned for Sam to come over again.
Sam was supposed to be studying but she couldn't help but overhear what the men had been talking about. She felt so stupid. As long as she had been a wrestling fan, she didn't understand how she couldn't figure out who the two of them were. Maybe it was the dim lights. She also knew judging by the conversation that they probably didn't want anyone to know who they were. However, Sam couldn't help but offer a tad bit of advice.
"Here ya go. Can I offer you a bit of advice?" Both men looked up at the petite woman in front of them. "I didn't mean to be nosy, but there's really not a lot of people in the bar, know what I mean?"
Steve nodded his head. "Give me what you got, little lady."
"I don't understand exactly what's going on but it seems to me that you have enough authority to do what you want, right?"
Mark and Steve nodded, not sure where she was going with this. "All I'm saying is, maybe you can convince your boss that when you leave, you want to go out your way. That way, your boss and you are both happy." Sam looked at the quiet faces in front of her and shrugged. "Ok, or maybe not."
Steve shook his head. "No, no I get what you saying. It's just a little complicated you know? We don't exactly work a 9-5."
Sam just shrugged as she grabbed the bottle of Jack and poured three shots. She lifted one to her lips and let the warm liquid soothe her throat. "Just trying to help." The boys nodded and took their respective shots. Before Sam turned around to head into the stock room, she grabbed both men's arms.
"Although, I don't know about the two of you, but I would kill to see Austin vs. Undertaker, one more time." Sam gave both men a wink and walked away.
