The Redneck Diaries.

[Kashdinero]

***Please don't post here. All feedback for this show should be posted in the JBW Main Discussion Thread***

This is a tale featuring Leonard Ray Beauregard, written by 68WPayne, for Studio Jabe.

Enjoy.

[Kashdinero]

A British accent is heard as the video camera comes into focus.

"Hello, I am Robin Leach and I am riding in the pick up truck of the self proclaimed JBW Southern Champion and we are en route to the next JBW live event. Mr. Leonard Ray Beauregard's new F150 Raptor dubbed Redneck Express 2.0 is the embodiment of Mr. Beauregard himself. A no-nonsense, no-gimmick technical masterpiece who is not afraid to plow through the competition and only be stopped on its own accord. He..."

LRB: Man, I dunno what the fuck yer sayin'. I dunno if you are talkin' in another language or if it's that fruity accent you got. We gonna have to do somethin' or this is gonna end real quick

LRB reaches in the backseat. The sound of empty beer cans can be heard rattling until the Redneck Wreckin' Machine finds what he is looking for. He pulls out a filthy, camo Ole Miss cap and plops it on Robin Leach's head.

LRB: There, maybe now I can stand to listen to ya

Leach: My God, this smells absolutely retched.

LRB: Well hell, I've cut grass in that for about 7 years now. And it's not like you can wash a hat. Now quit your bitchin' if you want this fuckin' interview

Leach: But you called our office and demanded....

LRB glares at him

Leach: Right, carrying on. Your actions last week against Sleeper were, to put it mildly, downright heinous. I do hope there was at least a fine or some sort of...

LRB: A fine for what? For defending my property. First of all that wast the 2nd time that lil yeller piece of casino trash tried to steal a win from Ol' Lenny Ray and I;ll be damned if some city slicker piece of shit steals a goddamn thing from this country boy. Not a win and certainly not my title *pats the belt that is on the dashboard*. Now the second point; ain't nobody gonna fine Lenny Ray a goddamn thing cause I'm a fuckin' champeen. Champeens like me get free passes for shit cause we are the faces of the company. We keep Jay Bee Dubya tickets sellin', we keep Jay Bee Dubya on prime time talk shows. We keep this shit goin' for everybody"

Leach: Right, well how about telling the fans at home some background on "The Champ"

LRB: Sure thing, that sounds great. My rasslin career started really when I was a kid. Ya know, rasslin around with the other kids in the trailer park, pretendin' to be Shawn Michaels or Sting or for me, Bret Hart. But when I was about 13 years old Stone Cold Steve Austin hit and showed me that you ain't got to be a flashy, gimmicky guy to be a pro rassler. He showed me there is hope if you want tot be in the ring and be the honest to God redneck hellraiser that you are in real life. That's when I decided that I was gonna be a rassler. Jump forward a few years and my daddy, who was great with any kind of machine, winds up doing odd jobs for Jerry Lawler, the King of rasslin himself. After about a month of these jobs, Jerry had bought several old Coke machines and they needed fixin' up, Daddy started bringin' me to help him out, learn the trade kinda thing. I got a chance to start taking to Lawler and he sees my enthusiasm about rasslin and tells me to come down to the Memphis Wrestling studios at the ass crack of dawn one Saturday and he'd see how dedicated I was. Well Daddy drops me off and I proceeded to get my ass whipped from pillar to post till it was time for the show, then after got thrown around some more. Well good ol' Jerry liked what he saw and told me as long as I worked on the ring crew he would train me. He taught me all the basics, from runnin' the ropes, to bumpin', to workin' the crowd. Well this had gone on for several years when he calls me into his office and tells me there ain't nothing there he can teach me. Says "I laid the groundwork for ya, now you need to start polishin' your skills in other places" then he hands me the numbers to several folks he had worked with. So I start bouncing around tryin' to get known. Worked with seems like everybody. From The Wild Samoans to Ricky Morton to Johnny Rodz to Taz. But even with workin' with all those great names, I felt like somethin' was missin' ya know. Then I hear about Lance Storm's school up in Calgary. I got to thinkin' that's what I wanted. Bret Hart was who I used to pretend to be when I was a youngen and now I know that I wanted to work with one of the greatest graduates from the Dungeon.

Leach: Canada is a mighty bit different than the heat of the Deep South, how did it go?

LRB: Man I felt like Rocky in Rocky IV when he was trainin' in Russia and shit.

Lenny Ray reaches into his bag in the backseat and gets his can of Copenhagen.

LRB: Damn, only one pinch left, we're gonna have to stop at the next gas station to restock.

As he is collecting his snuff between his fingers Robin Leach sneezes and knocks the can out of Lenny Ray's hand. Lenny begins staring a hole through the former host of Livestyles of the Rich and Famous)

Leach: My word, surely you know that was an accident.

Lenny Ray whips the Redneck Express to the side of the road and hurls Robin Leach out the door like a frisbee and takes off leaving the host standing in a cloud of dust.

LRB picks up the camera and films himself.

LRB: Dammit that stupid lil' French prick or whatever the fuck he was. Now I gotta find someone else to interview me. What am I gonna do with all this time now? I got it, I heard that they got some other redneck runnin' shit on the other show. Maybe I'll check things out there.

[Kashdinero]

Scene opens to a dimly lit dive bar where JBW’s Southern Champion, Lenny Ray Beauregard, sits with the one and only Geraldo Rivera.



They are the only souls in the bar save for the bartender and a drunken old biker who has been passed out in a booth longer than anyone can remember. LRB sits with a half empty beer mug, a currently empty shot glass, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in front of him.

Geraldo: Sir, I was thinking that we could pick up where your interview with Robin Leach left off before the...or...um...communication breakdown.

LRB: First of all don’t call me sir, I work for a fuckin’ livin’. Second, you can call it a “communication breakdown” or whatever all you fuckin’ want but this will go a hell of a lot smoother if’n you be honest and call it like it happened. That little shit took a swipe at me and cost me my last dip. I had to drive 30 very pissed off minutes till I got to a gas station to resupply. He got what he had comin’ to him. Third, I ain’t havin’ no damn interview till you finish your drink.

Lenny Ray fills a shot glass with Jack and slides it in front of Geraldo.

Geraldo tries to take a little sip but LRB holds the glass forcing him to drink the whole shot.

Geraldo gags.

LRB: There, don’t you feel like a man now? Now we can talk, so where was I?

GR: (still gagging) ahh...Canada

LRB: Jesus Christ man, it’s just a lil’ whiskey (takes a shot) anyways, Canada. Really fuckin’ cold. Trained with the great Lance Storm. Tought me everything I needed to know to be a real total package in the ring. Fast forward some time and me and Lance are fishin’ out on some cold ass lake when he tells me...

Pours himself and Geraldo a shot and stares at him till he drinks it, then does the same.

LRB: Yeah, he says to me “Listen Lenny, I can teach you everything you need to know but you’ll never amount to anything without experience. I think you should go over to Japan.” And he was right ya know.

Pours two more shots and slides one over to Geraldo.

GR: Oh jeez

Geraldo again tries to sip but Lenny Ray holds the glass again.

LRB: There ya go. Now using Lance’s connections over in Japan I got a gig workin’ at New Japan. Lemme tell you somethin’ boy, it’s hard enough goin’ over there as an American, much less a good ol’ country boy such as myself. They certainly wasn’t too keen on the idea of sharing the ring with me.

LRB finishes his mug of beer and motions to the bartender for another and motions for him to get Geraldo one too.

GR: Well, how did they treat you in the ring?

Geraldo’s eyes get big as the bartender sets down a massive mug in front of him and LRB.

LRB: Well it ain’t like they refused to work with me. They may not have liked me but I came with good names backin’ me up. They are professionals who love the business ya know. But I did have to earn my stripes. They were stiff as hell and worked the dog shit out of me.

Lenny Ray takes a big gulp of his Coors Light.

LRB: I’m talkin’ bout at times if felt more like the UFC or some shit rather than pro rasslin. But I didn’t complain then and I certainly ain’t complanin’ now. That really made a man of me in the ring. It’s why I can take a lickin’ an’ keep on tickin’ nowadays.

Lenny takes another big swallow of beer and glares at Geraldo who is sipping his.

LRB: If you waste that I’m whippin’ your ass, just so ya’ know. Anyways, it’s truly amazin’ how much respect they got for the business. I talk a lot of shit about different cultures an’ all that but the fact of the matter is that this is all I’ve wanted to do since I was a lil’ boy. I wanted to be a rassler and I wanted to be a fuckin’ champion.

Pats the title that has been sitting on the bar beside him.

LRB: And as much as I love this country, I just wish this business was treated with the same respect as it is over there. There ain’t no Kiss My Ass Club over there, ain’t no Katie Vick, ain’t no Robocop, and there ain’t no fuckin’ transitional champions. They keep their folks entertained without stupid shit that mother fuckers in other companies seem to think puts asses in seats even though they ain’t sold out a show in years and ratings have been in the shitter.

Drinks the rest of his beer and stares at Geraldo.

Geraldo takes a big gulp and starts looking queezy.

Geraldo: So why? (burps) Oh, excuse me. So why did you return to America?

LRB: Cause this is my fuckin’ home. Them Japs ain’t got no biscuits n gravy, no fried chickin, no turnip greens, Momma and Daddy ain’t over there. Even a tough as nails sumbitch like me gets homesick. So when I got a call that Jay Bee Dubya was lookin’ into me, well I started lookin’ into them. An’ ya’ know what?

Giraldo: What?

LRB: I liked what I fuckin saw. I saw a company that for the most part gives a damn about rasslin. And yeah, we have had our differences, and I may wanna raise hell and get these city boys and redcoats attention cause that’s the kind of asshole redneck I am and damn proud of it.

Lenny pulls out a can of Copenhagen and packs it. He opens it and puts a pinch in his lip.

LRB: At the end of the day it’s about...

Lenny offers Geraldo some dip by holding the can in front of his face. Geraldo suddenly vomits all over the bar, Lenny Ray, and Lenny Ray’s dip.

LRB stares in furious disbelief

Giraldo: Oh jeez, I’m sorry...I think you made me drink too...

LRB grabs Geraldo by the back of his neck and flings him head first into a jukebox

The camera follows LRB as he grabs his belt and exits the bar cussing loudly.

Camera pans back to Geraldo who is bleeding heavily from his head and laying unconscious on the floor.