Post by Roy Vezina on Oct 26, 2024 1:31:14 GMT
In the Punch Line’s locker room, Harv Norris and Rick Hull are seated, staring across at Puck, the mini-wrestler Roy Vezina recently brought into the group. Puck, leaning against the wall, with a smirk on his face, doesn’t seem fazed at all by their scrutiny. Harv is scratching his head, squinting at the pint-sized newcomer.
Harv Norris: (in his thick Newfoundland accent) “So yer tellin’ me yer a wrestler, eh? Not some kid wanderin’ in here lost?”
Puck: (crossing his arms, deadpan) “What, did you expect me to come in with a juice box and crayons, Moosehead?”
Rick Hull: (trying not to laugh) “Harv, come on, he’s wearin’ a mask and wrestling gear.”
Harv Norris: (leaning forward, squinting harder) “Yeah, but that don’t mean nothin’. Lots o’ kids like ta dress up these days. Halloween ain’t the only time fer costumes, y’know?”
Puck sighs heavily, rolling his eyes behind the mask.
Puck: “You think I’m just some kid in a Halloween costume? What, you expectin’ me to go trick-or-treatin’ backstage or somethin’?”
Harv Norris: (scratching his head) “Well… maybe. I dunno! It don’t make sense ta me, is all.”
Rick Hull: (smirking) “Harv, he’s a mini wrestler, it’s a real thing.”
Harv Norris: (muttering) “But he’s so small… like, how’s he s’posed ta fight?”
Puck can’t hide his irritation any longer and leans forward, lowering his voice menacingly.
Puck: “You ever seen a small dog take down somethin’ ten times its size? Size don’t mean nothin’, Moosehead.”
Rick Hull: (chuckling) “You might wanna listen to him, Harv. He’s got more bark and bite than you’re givin’ him credit for.”
Harv is still clearly struggling with the concept, rubbing his temples and staring at Puck like he’s trying to solve a mystery.
Harv Norris: (sighing, muttering) “Well, I dunno… it just don’t make sense. How’s he gonna reach ta hit anybody?”
Puck: (smirking) “Maybe I’ll just bite their ankles or climb ‘em like a tree. Who knows?”
Rick snorts, trying not to burst out laughing at Puck’s snarky comeback. Harv still looks bewildered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Harv Norris: “I gotta see this ta believe it. It’s like one o’ them ‘Ripley’s Believe It or Not’ things, eh?”
Puck: (leaning back with an amused grin) “Yeah, Moosehead, I’ll be your own personal freak show.”
Rick slaps his knee, laughing, while Harv looks more confused than ever. Puck sits back, looking smug and clearly entertained by the situation. Harv finally sighs in resignation.
Harv Norris: (muttering) “Guess I’m gonna have ta take yer word fer it.”
Puck: (smirking) “Smart choice, Moosehead. Now don’t go losin’ sleep over it.”
Rick keeps laughing as Harv mutters something incoherent under his breath. Puck leans back in his chair, still looking annoyed but also quite pleased with his smart-aleck responses. Harv just shakes his head, clearly unsure of what to think about their new “teammate.”
Harv Norris: (finally throwing his hands up) “This locker room’s gettin’ stranger every day, I tell ya…”
Harv Norris: (in his thick Newfoundland accent) “So yer tellin’ me yer a wrestler, eh? Not some kid wanderin’ in here lost?”
Puck: (crossing his arms, deadpan) “What, did you expect me to come in with a juice box and crayons, Moosehead?”
Rick Hull: (trying not to laugh) “Harv, come on, he’s wearin’ a mask and wrestling gear.”
Harv Norris: (leaning forward, squinting harder) “Yeah, but that don’t mean nothin’. Lots o’ kids like ta dress up these days. Halloween ain’t the only time fer costumes, y’know?”
Puck sighs heavily, rolling his eyes behind the mask.
Puck: “You think I’m just some kid in a Halloween costume? What, you expectin’ me to go trick-or-treatin’ backstage or somethin’?”
Harv Norris: (scratching his head) “Well… maybe. I dunno! It don’t make sense ta me, is all.”
Rick Hull: (smirking) “Harv, he’s a mini wrestler, it’s a real thing.”
Harv Norris: (muttering) “But he’s so small… like, how’s he s’posed ta fight?”
Puck can’t hide his irritation any longer and leans forward, lowering his voice menacingly.
Puck: “You ever seen a small dog take down somethin’ ten times its size? Size don’t mean nothin’, Moosehead.”
Rick Hull: (chuckling) “You might wanna listen to him, Harv. He’s got more bark and bite than you’re givin’ him credit for.”
Harv is still clearly struggling with the concept, rubbing his temples and staring at Puck like he’s trying to solve a mystery.
Harv Norris: (sighing, muttering) “Well, I dunno… it just don’t make sense. How’s he gonna reach ta hit anybody?”
Puck: (smirking) “Maybe I’ll just bite their ankles or climb ‘em like a tree. Who knows?”
Rick snorts, trying not to burst out laughing at Puck’s snarky comeback. Harv still looks bewildered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Harv Norris: “I gotta see this ta believe it. It’s like one o’ them ‘Ripley’s Believe It or Not’ things, eh?”
Puck: (leaning back with an amused grin) “Yeah, Moosehead, I’ll be your own personal freak show.”
Rick slaps his knee, laughing, while Harv looks more confused than ever. Puck sits back, looking smug and clearly entertained by the situation. Harv finally sighs in resignation.
Harv Norris: (muttering) “Guess I’m gonna have ta take yer word fer it.”
Puck: (smirking) “Smart choice, Moosehead. Now don’t go losin’ sleep over it.”
Rick keeps laughing as Harv mutters something incoherent under his breath. Puck leans back in his chair, still looking annoyed but also quite pleased with his smart-aleck responses. Harv just shakes his head, clearly unsure of what to think about their new “teammate.”
Harv Norris: (finally throwing his hands up) “This locker room’s gettin’ stranger every day, I tell ya…”