Tales From The Fifth Horseman
My name is Randy Paulson. No one has any idea who the hell I am, or what booty bowling is either, but that’s okay. I can live with that. What I can’t live with is knowing that this world will never know the truth about the Four Horseman.
First, please know that I am not doing this out of spite, envy, or hatred. I love those guys like brothers, but the truth is the truth. Ric Flair was the leader, Arn was the muscle, Ole had the plan, and Tully had that strut that could bag any lady in the arena. Then there was me, Randy, who became the guy behind The Guys. Now, I may never have used the figure four leg lock, and I never was the main event to a house show in Biloxi, but I sure do have some stories to tell. Like back in the Summer of ’87…
Making Friends With The Locals
We were in Atlanta for a one-off at the Omni and after a sweaty workout decided to cap off the day with a few shots of Jack. The local bar where we were training was called Champs, and Ric was a fixture there. After our tenth round, some of the local talent approached and expressed some interest in that well-known Horseman meat. Ric grabbed one, mashed his face into her massive talent and said, “I’ll take Milky over here.” Ric always had a way with words.
Before the deal could be completely sealed, I felt a tap on my shoulder; there were five red-faced dudes behind me. “You ain’t going anywhere dickheads,” one of them growled. “Those are our girls.”
“They look like they’re ours to me,” Arn shot back.
Ever the leader, Ric stepped forward and said those magic words: “You got a problem, we can handle this out back.” Fueled by liquor and bruised egos, they agreed. I didn’t know if they had more guts than brains, or if they were legit fighters, but it didn’t matter, because I knew the Horsemen were ready for action.
The Invention Of Booty Bowling
Mind you, the back room was pitch black, and you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face. But before too long Ric suddenly screams out, “time to kick some ass, Horseman style!” then claps three times. The lights flickered on revealing … a bowling alley?!
Ric looked everyone up and down and said, “All y’all take off your fucking clothes! WooHOO! It’s booty bowling time! Losers gets tossed into the alley–asses out!” We were confused, but as soon as Ric started to peel everything off, we all followed suit. All it took was a little prodding from their girls, and the gaggle of tough guys also fell in line. Then we bowled ten frames … butt naked.
To this day I don’t know how, but Arn managed to bowl a 250 that night with a mild case of elephantitis. Suffice it to say, we won. Word got out quick that The Horsemen left four brutes in an alley naked, stunned, and girlfriend-less. Everyone thought it was because of the fighting skills, but it was really because Ric was the master of getting a spare from a split while dodging his swinging dick.
And if you think I am lying, ask the fucking Horsemen …
The One-and-Only Fifth Horseman
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