Let’s imagine an alternate universe, okay?
In this universe, the members of Youngblood never sat down in front of a keyboard or set foot in a theatre. Instead, they devoted their time and energy to becoming world-class gamecockers.
Every Wednesday they gather in the seedy basement of some dilapidated Hells Kitchen building, show off their latest birds, and proceed to tear each other apart.
Let’s also say that the same qualities that made these people damn good playwrights also shines through in the breeding/training of their gamefowl. So each of their birds is imbued with the same qualities that make their plays really fucking good and distinct. A Ryan Dowler gamecock is a lot different from a Chiara Atik gamecock. Cool?
Anyway. This is probably what that world would look like.
I heard that Angie Hanks has been convicted of a number of minor to major felonies and doesn't dare return to the Dallas streets she once ruled over. Angie must miss the place, though, cause she shoved the state of Texas into the skin of a rooster, and she named that thing Big Tex.
At first, maybe you think Big Tex is a little cute. Because, I mean, look at that crown, and look at all those funny little feathers around its neck, right? And as it’s dancing around the pit, you smile and think: “This is a nice bird. This is a bird I wouldn’t mind sending a postcard of to my granddaughter.” But then, fuck! When you least expect it, Big Tex rears up to its full 14.1 inches and starts launching itself at its opponent! Its spurs are all red; the audience is in shock! And when its opponent’s down, Jesus, it goes right for the crowd! I heard Big Tex broke a kid’s nose once. Seriously.
And after the fight, you wake up at 4 AM thinking, “My God, what kind of monster is Big Tex? That thing is scary as all hell.” Big Tex haunts you, man; it haunts you like a cowboy’s ghost.
Big Tex closed up shop last Saturday; you, sir/ma’am, are a fool if you missed it. More Unfiltered to come! Do yourself a favor and keep up!