“HUSS!”
Guttural is a word that might describe King Kong Frank’s cry to battle.
“HUSS!”
Terrifying is another, depending on your point of view. Take for example young Scott Hunter. He all but soiled himself last week on ClassicTV when Frank put eyes on him. “Not” Hunter indeed. He should probably count himself lucky though, it’s not often that Frank comes within clobbering distance of somebody that he wants to clobber and that somebody walks away without being clobbered.
“HUSS!”
Alas, that particular mudhole-stomping will have to be postponed for the time being. However, don’t make the mistake of thinking that Frank’s thirst for vengeance isn’t just as strong as his thirst for moonshine! He may be a mostly addled rabble-rouser with a heart of gold, but when he sets his mind to mangling somebody there’s usually a fair bit of mangling to follow.
“HUSS!”
Before all that can be addressed there now stands the small problem of one “All Business” Alex Bruder. A formidable grappler to say the least as well as the first-ever Real Worlds Champion! He’ll no doubt try to figure out a way to chop ol’ Frank down a few pegs so he can hook some hold on and hope for the best. It’s a strategy that Frank has both endured before and never quite understood. Let’s be fair, Frank’s not exactly known for his tactical grappling skills, but as far as he can tell the last thing somebody ought to do is intentionally tether themselves to him unless they were in the market for the kind of beating that gives a guy time off from work.
“HUSS!”
As always the Smoky Mountain Savage is the absolute visage of primal rage.
Somewhere off in this distance, the thrumming of a hand-stretched drum permeates the outskirts of perception. So far as Frank can ascertain it could be anything from a figment of his imagination up to the manifestation of some kind of devil hoodoo mumbo-jumbo that he’d picked up rasslin’ the likes of Lord Colossus and Shujin Yama.
It’s all the same to Frank.
He’s just here to drink corn whiskey and whip the hind-ends of anybody that stands against FREEDOM and his God Given rights to do whatever he dang well pleases.
“Well now, lookee here,” Frank snaps out of his trance-like state as if he hadn’t just been standing there barking at the void. “Lookit how far the dang ol’ MIGHTY done daggum fell!”
As has been customary for several weeks now the Premier American Championship title belt dangles haphazardly from the top of Frank’s bib-overalls. That brownish hue on one of the side plates is certainly not the stain left by a string of tobacco spit, so get that thought right out of your head!
“Ya went from cheatin’ yer way up to that WORL’S TAHTEL to gettin yer but whipped by that big hoss Vito to to terrorizin’ that little Mikey kid an’ his ol’ Pop ‘till you got that crazy caveman-lookin’ Kilgore to go even more bonkers than he already was…”
Frank stops to contemplate.
“HUSS!”
Chuckling, he continues.
“An’ lookit ya now, boy! Ya must’a done gone an’ pissed off SOMEBODY cuz not only is you about to take the biggest butt-whoopin’ ya done had since yer ol’ gran’mammy turned ya over her knee an’ put the switch to ya! HAH-HAH!”
“HUSS!”
“HUSS!”
“HUSS!”
“But this here ‘MURICAN CHAMP’NSHIP BELT ain’t even on the line!”
Frank gives a broken-toothed grin behind that mangled shock of a beard of his. His eyes are wide and bloodshot, and bushy eyebrows protrude from above. The Mastadon of the Mountain cackles.
“Now mebbe you thinkin’ you can get yerself a quick win over ol’ Kay-Kay-Eff, get yerself back on track an fightin’ fer the big gold belts again, but UH-UH! Ol’ Frank ain’t in the habit of bein’ no steppin’ stone fer no stumblin’ dork like you, ALEX BRUDER!”
“Now I know you like to rassle, boy, an’ I know you like to think yer some kinda kung-fu grapplin’ guru out there an’ can’t nobody else keep up wit’cha or outlast ya, an’ there might even be some truth to that, but what’s all that gonna git’cha when I mash yer taters for ya soon as that bell rings, HUH?”
“HUSS!”
Frank intensifies.
“WE GON’ LEARN! AIN’T THAT RIGHT BRUDER?! WE GON’ LEARN NEXT WEEK!”
“HUSS!”