Doris leans on the wheel well of the shiny white SUV with a look plastered on her face that screams “ace up my sleeve”… it only grows more evident when she hears Gordy Lovett and his grandfather loudly guffaw down on the rise out of the ravine she was told they were hunting. As they approach, after eyeballing Doris, they notice she isn’t alone. The young African American man is built like an absolute tank and dressed like a million dollars in a crisp white dress shirt, stylish burnt orange trousers, and a beautiful watch that looks like it could itself buy the entire Lovett family ranch.
“Gordy, there you are. We saw the truck and figured it was only a matter of time. Successful outing I see… ”
The Texas Stampede snorts at his business representative as he unshoulders the enormous dead wild hog from his shoulders depositing it into a tarp laid out in the bed of the old pick-up truck. Peepaw Lovett stands back silently eyeballing the enormous young stranger with a look of curious interest. Gordy turns to Doris, casting a glance over her shoulder.
“The blue HELL is this?”
Doris smiles, before she can say anything Peepaw erupts like a geyser.
“Felton by-God Bigsby! This ol feller played fer UT a few years back, by God! Got damn mauler, he was! Was til he blew out his knees out actin’ a fool dis… “
The young man steps forward with a naturally intimidating smile and an enormous hand on the old man’s shoulder cutting him off with a little less than playful shake. His eyes however are locked on the Cow Puncher.
“Well well well, Gordy Lovett I figured a proud Texan like yourself would know more about college football legends such as myself.”
Felton chuckles as he continues to “playfully” shake poor Peepaw by the shoulder. Gordy crosses his big-ass arms across his chest, all covered in ripped t-shirt and pig blood, and gives the young man an intentionally short snarling reply.
“Aint a big football guy.”
The testosterone filled tension growing by the literal second Doris steps between the two behemoths, even managing to free Peepaw from Felton’s mindless shaking. The old man wandering a few paces away from Bigsby… behind his grandson. Doris finds the cleanest spot on Gordy’s arm and gives it a little pat.
“Gordy, dear. As I’ve told you before I’ve always had every intention of growing Hilton Promotions with more talent. That auspicious day, my pet, has come. As your dear grandpappy mentioned, this is former University of Texas lineman Felton Bigsby.”
Licking his lips and giving his knuckles a crack Felton speaks up with an addendum.
“Houston Strong.”
Doris smiles and happily corrects herself.
“Houston Strong Felton Bigsby, my apologies. He’ll be working alongside you in Classic… as your new tag team partner.”
The look on the seasoned in-ring pro Gordy Lovett’s face speaks volumes as to how he feels about this particular bombshell arrangement. Tracking how much The Stampede’s distress seems to please Doris, Felton holds his palms out as a gesture of diffused tension.
“Listen big man. I feel… THIS… “
He motions between Gordy and Doris.
“I’ve dealt with way more dysfunctional player coach relationships, believe me. I ain’t here to steal ya’ spot, feel me? You been doin’ this a long time, man. I ain’t to proud to say there’s probably a lot I could learn from a cat like you, ya’ heard? Now, maybe a CLASSIC player such as yourself might appreciate not only a little backup but maybe a different perspective… “
He extends a hand. Waiting a weighty few moments Gordy snorts deep and hocks a wad phlegm and tobacco towards the wheel of Felton and Doris’ fancy SUV. Hilton narrows her eyes just as Gordy reaches out and grabs Felton’s mitt. The two men trading one hell of an aggressive handshake. Again Felton unsheathes that naturally intimidating smile as he claps Gordy “playfully” on the shoulder.
“See. Told you he’d be cool, man. Gordy Lovett is one cool customer, that’s exactly what I said.”
“Cool as hell… at’s me to a got dang tee.”
Gordy snarls sarcastically.
Doris grumbles something under her breath, ultimately forcing a smile.
“So long as you boys can play nice and find a way to get along as a TEAM… as I see it there’s enough hardware around Classic Wrestling for yall to have two shiny belts each. One for each of yalls big ol’ Texan shoulders.”
She smiles a satisfied smile as the little less than friendly handshake continues between Classic Wrestling’s newest and obviously most competitive tag team combination.