[Giani Di Luca]

 {{One More Time}}

{Everyday I’m Shufflin’}


{The following is a promotional excerpt from the upcoming episode of Fuhgeddaboudit, which will air immediately following Climax Control}


We fade into the Fuhgeddaboudit house just around dinner time, seeing the house mates seated at the table with various Styrofoam containers of take out in front of them.  They are seated under the bright lighting, talking and laughing, but there are two faces that are quite noticeably missing from this shot… Giani Di Luca, and his girlfriend, Dixie Waters.  We switch to the rooftop deck where we see a dimly lit table with cluttered leftovers from a dinner that was likely finished recently.  We look around further to see the bubbling hot tub where a blonde is curled up next to he bronzed Adonis who calls himself the “Italian Stallion”.  She lifts her head up slightly to stare into Giani’s eyes as a smile comes over her face.  Her bottom lip quivers slightly as she silently beckons Giani’s to connect with hers.  He laughs softly as he leans down, pressing them firmly against hers, letting it linger before they smack together.  He leans in deeper, gently nibbling on her bottom lip as she wraps her left arm around his neck.  She softly moans as she can’t help but draw him in as close as she can, all while he nearly blankets her comfortably.  The outdoor speaker system switches over to play “Come & Get It” by Selena Gomez, sending the two lovers into overdrive.  Dixie pulls away from Giani as she begins swaying to the music, a mischievous smile coming across her face.

Dixie:  What would you do, if…

Dixie leans up and over Giani as he leans back, letting her run wild.  She flips a few wet strands of hair over her shoulder, exposing her neck while showing off a side of herself that the wholesome sister has never shown before.  She bites onto her bottom lip playfully as she tilts her head the opposite direction.

Dixie: … I gave you a little dance interpretation of this song?

Giani:  I think…

Giani pauses as he leans up, brushing his lips against hers, causing her to giggle a little as she continues to sway her hips to the music.  He gently pinches her bottom lip between his teeth, pulling away slowly as he leans back once more, continuing.

Giani: … I would have to letcha.  I ain’t the type of boyfriend who tells his girl what to do.  Besides, I love all that artistic bullshit ya into…

Dixie laughs as she gently slugs Giani in the arm.  She stands up, letting the water cascade off of her fair skin, revealing a dark blue bikini with rhinestone studded rings on the waist, and where the top connects in the middle.  Giani’s eyes flare up in anticipation as Dixie begins rolling her hips in time with the music.  She steps down from the bench and into the center of the tub.  She places one wrist behind her head while she extends the other toward Giani, ordering him to come forward, while her stare says “Stay put!” He doesn’t know which to listen to, but she begins twisting her arm, as she beckons him forward, backing up slightly.  She turns around, giving him a different view, one that is equally as appealing as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip.  She continues to move, rolling her shoulders in time, banging her hips side to side with the music.

Giani:  Damn baby, Jersey done you some favors…

Dixie:  Oh, you don’t know the half of it, baby…

She turns her head, winking at him from behind, giving a wink before spinning back around, flinging water with her as she faces him once more.  She lowers down, finding her way back into his lap.  She wraps one arm around his neck, and arches her back as she contorts to the music.  Giani almost can’t control his primal instincts any longer, but he dares not interrupt her before she’s finished.  She pushes her chest just inches from his face as she reaches one finger over, running them across her lips as this artistic expression turns into more of a lap dance than anything.  She licks at her lips before leaning in, letting Giani loose on her neck.  She moans loudly before realizing that the cameras are on her.  Instantly, the semi shy blonde gets redness to her cheeks as she loses the beat.  Giani sees this immediately and he leans back, rolling his eyes with a playful smile on his face.

Giani:  Them camera’s gonna be on us awwwwl the time, babe.  Ya gotta get used to em.

Dixie:  I don’t know who you think I am, Giani, but I’m not in the porn business, and I think certain things are meant to be private.

Giani:  Porn?  Seriously?  They’re just gonna put a censor bar over ya girls.  Only people that’s gonna see em is me… and Frank there.

Dixie shakes her head and rolls her eyes, sinking back down into the water.  Giani scoffs at this, but deep down, he understands.  He doesn’t like the big picture, but he understands.  However, he’s prepared to give her a few lessons in how not to give a f(BEEP!).  He stands up and turns right to the camera, dropping his trunks as a censor bar immediately pops up.  He reaches into the water and pulls his trunks off, flinging them around above his head like a madman.

Frank:  Seriously, bro?  A freaking Helicopter?!

Giani:  You ain’t gotta stare, dawg.  Ya always sayin’ that wild and crazy gets the ratings.

Dixie:  Giani!!!

She places a hand on her forehead as she tries to hide behind her arm.  Giani laughs almost uncontrollably at her response, flinging his trunks over the side of the roof.  He lets out a “WOOOOOOOOOO!” which is only stopped with the sound of someone calling out from below.

“Gross!  Get a room, you disgusting heathens!”

Giani’s eyebrows furl in confusion as he steps out of the tub.  The censor bar follows him as he walks over to the edge of the roof, looking down with an almost horrified look on his face.

Giani: James, bro!  What are ya doin’ in Jersey, kid?

JHHIII:  I came to see you… but, admittedly, I didn’t want to see this much of you…

Giani looks down and laughs before ducking down slightly.  For an extra precaution, James shields his eyes from anything past the front door.  He shakes his head, trying to get that image out of his head, while trying to get back on topic.

JHHIII:  I came to… Jesus, it’s like an elephant’s trunk… f(BEEP!)…

Giani:  Toss me my trunks, bro.  I’ll come down.

James looks down at the ground, picking up the trunks that are responsible for the messed up, matted hair, and spot on his grey tank top.  He picks them up and tosses them with all of his might, sending them flying up and onto one of the rooftop light posts.  Giani looks up at them, and he sighs.  As he stands up onto the edge of the roof, he grabs onto the pole and pulls himself up a few feet before grabbing at the bottom of his trunks, yanking them down.

JHHIII:  On your way down, bring me a bottle of bleach.  There’s now two sides of you that I need to unsee…

Giani:  Once it’s been seen, ya can’t unsee it, kinda like Blue Waffles, except with my glorious junk instead.

JHHII:  Glorious is a bit of a reach.  Don’t you know how unsanitary that is?

Giani shrugs his shoulders as he pulls his trunks up.  He jogs down the stairs as Dixie looks at Giani as if she had just been forgotten by him.  She rolls her eyes and sink back in the hot tub before the cameras switch around to show Giani running through the house, skidding with his wet feet on the linoleum.  He finally makes it to the front door, flinging it open as he pulls James in for a bro hug.

JHHIII:  That’s a bit close after what just took place.  Shouldn’t you have purchased my dinner first?

Giani:  Nah, I just ate, but ya welcome to some leftover pasta in the fridge, ya little smartass!  Hahahaha!

Giani rubs his knuckles against James’ head, expecting him to whine about it as he always had done in the past.  James just shoves Giani off of him, but can’t help cracking a familiar smirk before slapping Giani’s cheek in a playful manner.

JHHIII:  Get off of me, you gorilla… Wait, I forgot in these parts, that’s a compliment.

Giani:  I see ya lost the butch lesbian haircut.  Ya goin’ for Vanilla Ice now?

JHHIII:  You better watch out, I learned a few tricks since we were last acquainted.

Giani rolls his eyes, but is immediately met with a swift spinning leg take down that finds his back hard against the front porch.  Out of pure surprise, he doesn’t know how to react as James mounts him and prepares to toss a hard punch to his face, but lets the pose linger instead.

Giani:  Awwright, bro, I gotcha, I gotcha…

JHHIII:  Yeah, you better… “kid”.  I should still knock your teeth down your throat for that unwanted peep show you just gave me.

Giani:  Whatever, ya know ya liked it…

James lays a punch down right next to Giani’s head, making him look down at the cracked wood.  This gives Giani the perfect opportunity to see the new tattoos on his arm, as well as the dangling bling around his neck.  After a nod of approval, Giani practically bench presses the still smaller James off of him before getting to his feet.  He dusts off his back, taking in a deep breath after feeling a bit winded.

Giani:  You got some new moves, but don’t fuhget I got the my old ones, tried and true boy!

JHHIII:  Yeah, don’t have an asthma attack though.  I guess I found the muscles you lost, but guess what?  You can’t have them back.

Giani:  I also found the attitude that I lost, but don’t worry, I got plenty of both, and I’m feelin’ quite generous these days.

James gives a sarcastic half smile as he looks up toward the rooftop, quickly shaking his head in disbelief as he lets out an exasperated sigh.  Jutting his thumb up toward the roof, he lets his eyes rest back on Giani.

JHHIII:  Yeah, blondie up there made you sell your private jet for a second home in that shit dump known as Las Vegas.  That was my first clue.  Then, this whole playing to the fans bit was when reality slapped me in the face.  You turned into a pussy.

Giani:  Pardon my French, but what the f(BEEP!) you just say to me?

JHHIII:  I don’t think I f(BEEP!)ing stuttered.  How has that worked out for you?  Has blondie popped out a few babies for you yet?  Does she keep the kitchen clean, and leave the newspaper by your favorite chair, like a good house wife?

Giani can be seen getting angry as he balls his fist up at his side.  He is prepared to send it barreling right into James’ gut when he relents slightly, holding his hand up in surrender as he takes a few steps back.

JHHIII:  I know the truth hurts, but don’t shoot the messenger.  She even said she didn’t want to marry you, and you still put up with her because she’s hot.  It’s cool though, that’s none of my business.  But, do you know what is my business?

Giani:  I’m afraid if ya tell me, I’m gonna wanna knock ya freakin’ head off even more.  Yeah, on second thought, enlighten me, bro…

James slowly lowers his hands down to his side as he nods his head, gathering his thoughts for a second while Giani taps his foot impatiently. James takes a deep breath and claps his hands together, ready to break it down for Giani.

JHHIII:  Your failed wrestling career is my business.  As your former tag team partner, I can’t very well come back to SCW and listen to the locker room talk about how I carried you through our tag title reign.  Do you know how difficult that’s going to be for me?  I’m likely to ask Simpson to hold my duffle bag while I knock a b*tch out…

Giani:  Yeah, I kinda remember things a little differently, but the sentiment is much appreciated bro.  It’s kinda what I had to do when people talked about the spoiled rich kid who was locked onto my tit while I defended our titles in handicap matches. It pissed me off, coz it wasn’t like that. After I knocked b*tches out, you would come out from behind my back and get in some good shots, and even a few pins.

James and Giani share a laugh, but this is more of a pleasantry than a rekindling of fond memories. Both men seem to be having a condescending pissing contest, and James realizes this before it can continue.

JHHIII:  Yeah, maybe I didn’t carry you.  You’re too damn heavy to carry… Anyway, my point is that what you do still reflects on me because people came to see us as a package deal.  Neither one of us likes it, but we can’t really deny it, now can we?

Giani:  Nah, I guess not.  I even won the top title for three months, and people still tawk more about my tag title reign.  People still call me a snake,  no matter how hard I try to prove differently.

JHHIII:  Well, if the boot fits, lace that b*tch up, and kick them where it hurts most.

Giani’s jaw hangs open slightly as he takes in what James has just said.  Once he’s sure he’s heard his friend right, he slowly shakes his head from side to side, letting out an audible “nuh uh”.  James scoffs at this and stomps his foot angrily.

JHHIII:  Why?  WHY?!  Why are you letting those fickle fans tell you what you can and cannot do?  You were their Heavyweight Champion for Christsake!  And did they even once express that they missed you when you left to start filming your show?  No!  Did any of your new buddies check in on you?  No!  Did SCW management contact you after you left to leave an open business relationship?  No!  And do you want to know why?

Giani:  â€˜Cause I told them I would be back after filming wrapped up?

JHHIII:  Nooooooooo… Keep telling yourself that, but it’s because they never gave a damn about you.  Besides that Spike geezer, who has been all but forgotten himself, not one of those inbreeds cared.  Same as me. When I left, nobody cared.  I even had people making t-shirts with hash tag “SCW Needs James”, trending, and nobody once called me to strike up a deal.

Giani shrugs his shoulders, as he’s had enough of this friendly visit gone badly.  He looks over at the front door, giving a hint that he’s ready to step inside, but James doesn’t relent this time.  He shakes his head and takes a few steps forward.

Giani:  Look bro…

JHHIII:  No, you look “bro”.  I met with this guy who was in SCW, and when he left, he had the same response.  Yet, all of these bullshit disposable talents come and go whenever they please, and get endless title opportunities.  We’re tired of it, and we decided that we weren’t going to put up with it anymore.

Giani:  This sounds like some Gabriel rhetoric bullshit, J-Dawg.  I ain’t got time for ya conspiracy theories.  I thought maybe ya wanted to hang out uh somethin’…  Call a doc, get some meds for ya paranoia, and then come back and we’ll shoot the shit.

Giani turns and places his hand on the door handle, ready to turn it and escape this situation.  James places a hand on Giani’s shoulders, trying to stop him with a desperate friend-to-friend plea, but Giani brushes the hand off of his shoulder.

Giani:  The fans ain’t forgot me, awright?  Nobody forgot me.  I don’t need this right now.  I asked for space, and they gave it to me. When I come back next fall, it’ll be like I never left.

JHHIII:  Yeah, keep telling yourself that.  It doesn’t make it any more true G-Dawg.  It just makes you a sad, washed up has-been like blondie’s depressive sister.

Giani:  Ya need mental help.  Whoever this douchebag friend of yours is has ya hooked on the Kool Aid.  It’s not Gabriel, is it?

JHHIII:  No, it’s James Ringo.

Giani immediately bursts into laughter, shaking his head as he tries to wrap his mind around this idea.  James’ expression sours as he narrows his eyes at Giani.  Giani can’t help but continue to laugh, even though he wants desperately to stop.  He holds onto his ribs as he leans over, trying to catch his breath.

JHHIII:  Laugh all you want, but we’re serious business.  You’ll see when we come back, and it would be in your best interest if you were with us.  Anyone who isn’t with us, is against us.

Giani:  Well, I hope for ya sake that he drops the Giani Di Luca wannabe act and puts on a suit and tie, cause no way anyone will ever take him seriously otherwise.  Have fun with this power trip idea, but I want no part of it.

JHHIII:  You’re a smart man, Di Luca.  No matter what they say about you, I know you’ll make the right decision eventually, and because we go way back, I’ll leave the invitation on the table.

James reaches into his pocket, pulling out a business card.  He flicks it between his fingers as a magician would, and presenting it to Giani with just as much panache.  He lets it sit there until Giani finally takes it.  James nods in approval before he turns and walks down the dry rotted stairs of the house, looking as if he were in fear for his life.  Giani narrows his eyes as he watches James walk across the sandy lot, and over toward a black Hummer parked just outside of the driveway.  He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, beeping the alarm on the beast of a vehicle.  He steps inside, as Giani looks down at the card, reading “Ringo Enterprises”.  He stares at the embossed lettering carefully and with much disdain in his eyes.  As the Hummer speeds off, Giani enters the house, and flings the card onto the table as we fade.

{Cut Scene:  Giani Di Luca}

We fade into the green room of the shore suite, where a picture of the Jersey Shore skyline is seen, with the Fuhgeddaboudit logo plastered in front of it.  Sitting in a director’s chair in front of the screen is a seemingly confused Giani Di Luca.  His jaw is gaped open as he just stares into the camera silently for a minute.  It is clear that he is trying to muster up some kind of a reaction to what we just saw take place, but he almost can’t.  Finally, a groaning nose escapes his throat before his somewhat raspy voice finally takes control, causing his lips to follow suit.

Giani:  Seriously?  I mean, the kid is solid.  I know I’m not supposed to say that about the bad guys, but we’re blood brothers.  We been through awl kindsa shit together, and I can’t say he’s a bad kid… but he’s delusional as f(BEEP!).

Giani’s eyes widen as he tries hard to deny the truth.  He wants to believe that his friend has a valid excuse for the things he is saying, but he just can’t.  He shakes his head again, just thinking back on what we just saw take place.

Giani:  Seriously, bro.  Either that, or he got wind of the shit Gabriel Stevens is smokin’, like damn…  Look, I figured out my mistakes early on, and I bet one day, J-Dawg will too.  But, until then… I gotta just let him do him, yaknowhatimsayin’?

Giani shrugs his shoulders as he looks down at the ground.  There is a hint of regret in his face as he basically admits he’s got to let a friend go for a second time.  He sighs as his lips curl into a hopeful smile, though his eyes let us know he doesn’t believe a word of it.  He waves off the camera as he quickly gets up from the chair, leaving the room as the camera fades into a mess of fuzz.

{End Cut Scene}

{Everyday I’m Shufflin’}

{{COMMERCIAL BREAK:  Fuhgeddaboudit is brought to you courtesy of Smart Water… Drink Responsibly}}


{{Scene Two:  Fancy}}

Louis Vuitton and Christian Dior clothing are currently covering mannequins of this upscale department store.  The clientele of the store almost seems to blend in with the mannequins as they lightly and quietly sip on their champagne glasses, eyeballing the lame fashions on display before their very eyes, finding things that make them unique in even the slightest of ways.  Their black turtlenecks do not indicate the warm summer that New Jersey is experiencing, but with money like they have, there is little time to actually be exposed to anything but overrun air conditioning.  They snub their noses at each other as they critique one another just as much as they are the clothing.  This doesn’t last long as all eyes rest on the newest entrant of the store, and the commotion he is making.

Giani:  Seriously, Dixie?  I awready told ya I got no interest in this bullshit mall.  Can’t we just go to Ed Hardy uh somethin’?  I feel like a poor person when I probably got more money than half of these assholes.

Giani walks through the store wearing a red long sleeve shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows, and the buttons undone down to the bottom two to reveal a black muscle shirt underneath, as well as a dangling diamond chain with an iced out cross pendant on display.  Dixie is standing behind him wearing a white sun dress as well as open toed shoes and a matching white sun hat.  She looks embarrassed by Giani’s obnoxiously loud critique of the store patrons as she sinks down, lowering her head in the process.  Giani looks around in disgust at the plain looking clothes as he just scoffs.  He walks up to a dress near the entrance, a simple black and white form fitting dress that screams Real House Wives of whatever.  He lifts up a price tag and nearly faints as he looks over to Dixie.

Giani:  Seven hundred freakin’ bucks for that?  Fuhgeddaboudit!

A woman who has been looking at this dress scoffs at Giani’s assertion as she leans over and whispers something to her shopping buddy.  They both shake their heads, but Giani doesn’t even notice as he walks over to Dixie, taking her hand as he tries to lead her out of the store.  She gently takes her hand as she looks around at the dresses.  Giani’s hopes of making a quick exit have slipped through his fingers as Dixie falls in love with a specific dress that is just off to her right.

Dixie:  Oh, this one is soooo cute, isn’t it, baby?

Giani looks over at the ruffled dress, a form fitting piece that would compliment her curves quite well.  She pulls the dress out slightly, holding it up to her face to see how the tone contrasts with her complexion.  She looks over to Giani who has his pinky stuck in his ear, looking uninterested and confused as he pulls something from his ear.  He winces and shakes it off as he finally shrugs his shoulders.  She scoffs and then looks around for a sales associate, waving one down kindly.

Giani:  Ya get to try on two dresses before I leave.  I thought we was supposed to be findin’ new clothes for me since ya brought like fifty suit cases of clothes with ya.

Dixie:  I am just getting ideas.  Barry Goldstein promised we’d be rewarded for recording this season, and I think I deserve a nice present from myself for this.

She smiles sweetly at Giani as the sales associate comes over to her.  The flamboyant, quite obviously…. man looks over at Giani, running his blue eyes up and down the masculine form before chit chatting with Dixie.  She expresses interest in trying on the dress as they walk away, leaving Giani to his own devices, which is never a good thing.  He kicks his fresh white sneakers against the red carpeting, showing off his boredom as he paces back and forth.  Another associate walks by with a few flutes on champagne in her hand.

Associate 2:  Would you care for…

Before she has a chance to finish her question, Giani snatches them both out of her hands.  He downs one quickly, and then the other he swishes around to get the flavor.  He smacks his lips before handing the flutes back to the lady.

Giani:  I didn’t know this place gave out free booze.  Freakin’ sweet.  Keep em comin’, and uhhh… maybe fill em up.  I can handle my liquor, if yaknowhatimsayin’…

She nods her head, though she is clearly shocked by his lack of couth.  She turns around and takes the flutes back to the refreshment station near the back of the store.  Meanwhile, people point and stare while they critique the club kid.  He knows it, but he doesn’t care much.  He walks over to the sales associate who is waiting outside of the dressing room for Dixie to finish trying the dress on.  Giani approaches him, and he sheepishly smiles, flicking his eyebrows up in admiration.

Associate 1: Don’t you just llllllove it when hags drag us along to these things?  You’re cute…

Giani:  Uhhhh, what?  Nah, that’s my girl in there.

Associate 1:  Oh… sorry, most straight guys don’t have your… eye for fashion.  This stuff is last season at next season prices…

Giani scratches his head as he looks around at the clothing.  He doesn’t quite know how to respond without further embarrassing the kid, so he clears his throat and changes the subject.

Giani:  Yeah, this stuff just looks like stuff my mom would wear… But, she likes it and ya gotta keep em happy, bro.  But, uhhh… I kinda wanna make this quick.  She’s gonna love it, so gone ahead and run my card…

Giani reaches into his pocket and pulls out a platinum card.  He hands it to the associate who sees the commission dollar signs radiating from Giani’s impatience.  He disappears over to the register as Giani leans against the dressing room door.  Several moments pass before Giani feels the door starting to open.  Dixie walks out of the room, giving a twirl in each direction along with a hopeful smile.

Giani:  It’s hot… I love it, let’s buy it!

Dixie smacks his arm playfully as she gives another look at the mirror.  She seems to really like this dress, just as much as Giani had predicted.  The associate walks over with a slip of paper and a forced smile on his face.  He clears his throat as he pulls Giani aside.  He leans in, ready to speak, but Giani cuts him off.

Giani:  Look kid, I done told ya I don’t swing that way…

Associate 1:  No, no… Umm, your card was declined.

Giani looks confused as he scratches his head.  He shakes it, and tilts his head back in a confident manner as he looks back at the blonde behind him, before looking to the rusty ginger in front of him.

Giani:  Ain’t no way.  I got money… like fat money and that’s my bank card.  Run it again.

Associate 1:  I ran it three times, and it came back declined each time.  Do you have another…

Giani:  That ain’t right… Hang on…

Giani walks off in a huff.  He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he walks over to a secluded portion of the store.  He thumbs through his contacts before landing on exactly the person he was looking for.  He quietly speaks into the receiver before the shock starts to wear off.  His voice gradually starts to raise until he is worked up enough to nearly scream.  However, he doesn’t have time to react when he is put on hold.  However, within a few seconds, someone picks up on the other end.

ON THE PHONE:  Barry Goldstein

Barry:  Giani! My number on broski!

Giani:  Barry, you and I really need to tawk.

Giani’s voice is raised, but he tries to hide his anger in the process.  He might be failing miserably, but it doesn’t stop him from trying.  He begins pacing back and forth as he runs his free hand over his faux hawk.

Barry:  Sure thing.  What can I do for ya, Gi?

Giani:  First off, some answers would be fan-freakin’-tastic.  I’m up in Nordstrom trying to buy my girl this nice little piece that she had her eye on, and I just been embarrassed big time when my bank card was declined three times.

Barry:  That does not sound good, but shouldn’t you call the bank?  Or, better yet, why don’t I connect you straight to the accounting department.

Giani:  Dawg, fix this ‘cause I got no time for this.  I can feel these snobby rich assholes dissectin’ me with their eyes and I just wanna gee tee eff outta here.

Barry pauses for a moment as he can be heard fumbling around on the other end.  He mutters inaudibly, leaving Giani in suspense as he seems to be looking into the matter.  Giani begins pacing faster, seeming more aggravated than he was originally.  Finally, Barry returns, putting a hopeful look on Giani’s face.

Barry:  Okay, it appears that the Fuhgeddaboudit royalties have not cleared yet, but I promise you they’re on their way, any day now.

Giani:  That don’t answer my question.  I got money, plus that SCW royalty check shoulda cleared like last week uh somethin’.

Barry:  Yeah, about that?  I hate to break it to ya, but your SCW royalty check this month was… thin.

Giani raises an eyebrow as if Barry could see it, questioning this.  He stops pacing as he plops down on the white leather couch to his side.  He places his free hand on the side of his head as a bit of a panicked expression comes over his face.

Giani:  Nah, not likely.  My shit sells like crazy over there.

Barry:  I don’t talk in should’s and could’s kid.  I’m just telling you the numbers in front of me, which is (BEEEEEEEEEP).  If you don’t like the numbers, you might want to call Erik Staggs.

Giani:  Yeah, ‘cause there’s no way that number can be right.  Thanks Barry.

Barry:  Any time, kid.  Stay fresh.

Giani ends the call with Barry and immediately scrolls through his contacts until he lands on Erik Staggs.  He taps the screen and immediately the call starts connecting.  He places the phone to his ear as another message appears in bold white lettering at the bottom of the screen.

ON THE PHONE: Erik Staggs

Erik: Head of Talent Relations, Erik Staggs?

Giani: Thank gawd, Erik… Just the man I needed to tawk to.  It’s Giani Di Luca.

There is a soft but brief chuckle on the other end.

Erik:  Really?  I thought it was Mark Ward.  The Jersey accent was a dead giveaway, plus… caller ID and all.

Giani:  Ha… ha… Yeeeah, so got a couple questions for ya if ya got a second.

Erik:  No, I don’t have time for my oldest and dearest friend in SCW, you’ll have to call back.

Giani removes his hand from his head as he just rolls his eyes at Erik’s attempt at humor.  He props his head on his fist as he leans his elbow against his knee, clearly not amused as he waits for Erik to finish his comedy routine.

Erik:  Okay, so you didn’t like that one. Knock, knock…

Giani:  As much as I’d like to hear ya tell jokes awl day, I need to ask ya about somethin’ and it’s kinda important.

Erik:  Somebody is sensitive today.  Alright, let’s get to this  What is so important that you can’t humor me with even a fake laugh of encouragement?

Giani looks over to the dressing room as Dixie talks with the male associate who is still holding onto Giani’s bank card.  Seeing this adds to the urgency of the situation as he looks down at the floor.

Giani:  Look, I’m tryin’ to keep Dixie looks mint as f(BEEP!) and we’re up in Nordstrom, and my card got declines…

Erik:  That sounds like something you should discuss with…

Giani: Yeah, the bank… No, see I awready know that the issue is on your end.  (BEEEEEEEEEEEEP) freakin’ cents is awl my royalty check came in at.  I’m thinkin’ there should be a few extra zeros, or decimals or whatever the f(BEEP!) math term means a lot more freakin’ money than (BEEEEEEEEEEEEEP)…

Erik pauses, letting the silence linger for a minute as he can be heard clicking his teeth together.  Giani stands up, feeling the aggravation taking over once more.  He begins pacing back and forth, this time with a determined swagger in his step.

Giani:  Ya gonna answer me, bro?

Erik:  I’m trying to think of a nice way to say this… the check was wrong… but not in your favor, I’m afraid.

Giani:  Whaddaya mean by “not in ya favor, I’m afraid”?  The checks have been pretty decent since Indy is in right now.  I don’t mean to sound like a d(BEEP!)k but that can’t be any worse than that bullshit check I got.  No freakin’ way…

Erik listens intently as Giani starts to make a scene in the store.  He tries to calm down, but he’s having a hard time in doing so when his version of a romantic gesture, with very machismo undertones albeit, has been ruined.

Erik:  It might seem like there’s no “freakin’” way, but I assure you that there is, because it’s happened.

Giani:  It’s IMPOSSIBLE!  My merch sells, dawg.  I can’t believe ya tryin’ to screw me over after all I done for ya over the years.  Ya bullshit rebellion, I was at the front of the line while everyone else was chickenin’ out and jumpin’ from the ship like the soaked rats that they was.  Even after ya failed, I never denied ya vision.  And don’t get me started on this show… I’m only doin’ it to build awareness for SCW.  So to try screwin’ me outta money…

Erik:  I’d happily sit down and show you everything in detail, but bringing attention to this would probably set the decimal a spot to the left.

Giani:  Exactly!

Erik:  No… that’s not a good thing.  That’s less money, so you might want to just drop this.

Giani stomps his foot angrily, feeling the betrayal set in because there could be no way that the fans had really stopped buying his stuff only a month after his departure from SCW.  He practically growls into the phone, but is cut off by Erik.

Erik:  I hate to come across as a d(BEEP!)k, but… the fans have forgotten about you.  There’s just no other way to say it, Gi.

Giani opens his mouth to respond, but that was a verbal kick to the gut.  He groans rather than speaking actual words.  He collapses back onto the leather couch as he tries to absorb this sudden reality.

Erik:  Are you still there, kiddo?  Hello?

Giani:  Yuh… yeah, I-I’m still here bro…  Just… that’s a hard pill to swallow, yaknowhatimsayin’?  Damn, dawg…

Erik:  What can I say?  The fans are strong willed, and they do as they please.  Hell, they’re cheering for me on shows now.  Who would have thunk it?

Giani runs his hand over his face, remaining silent as he listens to Erik.  He doesn’t even have it in him to respond, as he just sits there.

Erik:  Look, I have to get ready for a meeting, but maybe I could fly out to New Jersey and we could grab a couple drinks and talk about it.

Giani:  Nah… I’ll be fine.  No need to rush on my account.  I just gotta let it settle in some.  Bein’ forgotten with awl the work I put into bein’ the champion of the people kinda sucks, but it is what it is, bro.  I’m gonna get off here though…

Giani doesn’t even wait for a response as he pushes himself off of the couch.  He hangs up the phone and puts it back into his shirt pocket.  He walks over to Dixie and the associate with an apologetic look on his face.  Dixie gives him a reassuring smile as she disappears back into the dressing room to change back into her own clothes.  Giani graciously takes his card back and pulls out his wallet.  As he goes to place it in the wallet, a white card falls out.  He tucks his bank card into his wallet and leans down to pick up the white card.  As he turns it over, he sees “Ringo Enterprises” printed on the card once more.  He stares at it longer this time, deeply considering calling the number displayed.  However, he tucks it into his wallet a Dixie steps out of the room.  He wraps an arm around her neck, hugging onto her as if nothing were wrong.  They quietly make their way toward he exit as we fade.

{Cut Scene: Dixie Waters}

We make our way back to the green room of the shore suite once again as Dixie takes her turn in front of the camera.  She is sitting in the director’s chair with her legs crossed, and concern written across her entire face.  She reaches over and picks up a bottle of Smart Water, making sure to hold the label out as she looks down to make sure she’s holding it right.  She takes a sip before setting it down once more.

Dixie:  Giani really seemed bothered today, but he’s too prideful to tell me what’s wrong.  I know I’ve been distracted lately with my sister, but I really wish he would open up to me.

Dixie places her hands on her laps in a display of frustration and concern.  Her blue eyes sparkle in the spotlight.

Dixie:  It’s not just the store today, or the visit from that Hawkes kid.  He’s been kind of different since he lost the Heavyweight Championship about two months ago.  I know it hurt to lose the belt, something he worked so hard for, but this show was a step toward recovering from that loss.  I thought anyway…

Dixie tilts her head to the side as she contemplates this.  She shakes it off as she returns her gaze back to the camera.

Dixie:  He tries to play it off, but I know that there is something deeper bothering him, and he’s been making phone calls while purposely pushing me to the side.  I don’t want to let my mind go to other places, but that’s not like him.  None of this is like him.  This isn’t the man that I know… that I love.  I just don’t know what to do to make him realize that he can trust me with anything.  I’m not helpless, I can take it.

Dixie nods her head in assurance as a single tear rolls down her cheek.  She wipes it away with what seems to be a genuine smile across her face.  She looks beyond the camera and nods as she starts to get up.  She grabs onto the water bottle and takes another sip before walking out of the shot, causing us to fade to a mess of fuzz once more.

{End Cut Scene}

{Everyday I’m Shufflin’}

{COMMERCIAL BREAK:  Sin City Wrestling: Climax Control – Watch your favorite Stars and Bombshells as they tear it up on your computer screen!}


{{The Monster}}
Present Day
Hotel De Anza in San Jose, CA

We pull up outside of the infamous Hotel De Anza in all of its ten stories of glory.  From the outside, it doesn’t look like much, with the oversized glowing red neon sign above it, which can be seen from half way across town, but the inside promises much more.  The brochure promised luxury, and they certainly intend to give it to you.  Scanning down the building, we find a shiny black Cadillac Escalade that has just pulled up to the valet station.  The attendant rushes over to the vehicle, but he is seconds too late as the drivers side door flies open.  Giani Di Luca steps out and runs his hands over the folds of his black sweatshirt with silver tattoo design running up the right side of his chest, and over the shoulder.  He then reaches up to remove his South Pole sunglasses from his eyes, tucking them into the collar of his shirt.  He glares at the attendant for a moment before extending his arm with about as much enthusiasm as a rock and the valet accepts it.

Giani:  Next time, how about ya do ya fuckin’ job, bro?  Gotta be quicker when ya deal with people whose time is as valuable as ours…

Giani rolls his eyes in a half circle as the passengers side door opens up, and Mister JN Ringo steps out, wearing a dark blue suit jacket and pants, with a powder blue dress shirt underneath, the top two buttons undone to reveal a tasteful gold chain.  The drivers side passenger door opens up next, and all we see at first is a pair of white sneakers that look almost as spotless as Giani’s.  Skinny jeans lead up to a white belt, then to the well toned abs of J2H.  He climbs out, and pulls his pants up slightly before popping his chains out.  He glares at the valet angrily before looking right over to Giani.

J2H:  You’re too nice to people sometimes, Giani.  If it were me, I would alert his supervisors and insist he be fired.

Giani:  What can I say?  I have compassion, I…  HEY!  I just had this bitch waxed, douchebag!

Giani looks at the valet who has his hand placed on the steel frame of the door, but his fingers are smudging the roof.  He immediately withdraws his hand as he closes the door and starts the vehicle up once more.

Ringo:  This idiot isn’t even going to wait for the bellhop? I guess they hire anyone with a GED these days.

Valet:  Sorry guys, it’s been a rough night.  I’ll personally carry your bags in.

Giani shakes his head and holds a hand up to his temple, rubbing it as he is clearly annoyed.  He holds the hand out to stop the valet as he circles around to the back.  As the hatch pops open, Giani leans in and begins pulling bags out randomly, reaching them behind for someone to take.

Giani:  No thanks.  I don’t trust ya with my shit, bro, and I doubt my crew does either.

J2H grabs the first bag, and then Ringo grabs the next two.  Giani flings a duffle bag over his shoulder before slamming the hatch down carefully.  He turns around and juts his thumb out toward the valet and shakes his head in disgust.  He tries to force a smile onto his face as he looks at the hotel before him.  Instantly, his face sours as he stares at the façade.  He groans as he looks over to Ringo.

Giani:  Hopefully the inside is more impressive than this.  It smells like tacos and regret out here…

J2H:  One time, Simpson got lost with a detour, and we wound up in the slums of Beverly Hills.  There was trash everywhere, people sleeping in their own vomit and urine in the gutters, using newspaper as covers.  It smelled like humanity failed, stewing in sewage… but looking back, it seems like the lap of luxury by comparison…

The three nod their heads in unison as they find their way to the front door, one that does not open automatically for them.  Giani rolls his eyes before shoving it open.  They find their way into the lobby, the floors covered in white marble designed tile with black accents, and pine accents against the beige walls.  On their way to the concierge desk, they immediately find four ladies shouting at the poor man behind the desk.

Delia Darling:  What do you MEAN z’at z’e penthouse suite is already booked?  Do you know who I am?

Veronica Taylor:  Oh gawd, she’s about to have a freakin’ bee eff.

Mercedes Vargas:  A best friend?

Angelica covers her mouth and giggles as Veronica stares daggers through her.  Delia doesn’t take notice as she pushes a cup of complimentary pens onto the floor, causing them to scatter about.  She then slams her hands on the granite desk top as she leans over into the middle aged man’s face.

Delia:  I’m Delia FUCKING Darling!

Giani:  And ya wastin’ our time.  We need to check into our penthouse suite, toots…

Delia turns around and glares at Giani as he offers her a cocky smirk for her trouble.  Without waiting for her to move aside, he does a half circle around Delia and walks up to the desk.  He casually reaches into his pocket and pulls out two cards… his I.D. as well as a credit card.  He flings both down on the counter before turning around and looking at Mercedes Vargas, jolting his head to the side as he prepares to flirt.  Suddenly, his lip curls up into disgust and he turns to the other side, looking Angelica and Veronica up and down as he nods his head.

Giani: … nice…

Angelica:  These losers got the penthouse?  Effing fantastic…

Giani:  Aww, don’t knock it baby.  I’d invite ya ladies up to the room for a sneak peek, but uhhh… I’m herpes free, and I wanna stay that way.

Delia stomps her foot as she prepares to say something, but Giani turns around and signs a piece of paper before the man hands him the keys to the room.  He fans the three out as Ringo and J2H each take one, smiling for their easy victory over the women standing in front of them.  They hold their arms out to their sides, taunting and celebrating as they walk backward toward the elevator doors.  However, Giani gives one final glance at the three younger Mean Girls, puckering his lips with a farewell kiss as the doors open with a loud “Ding!”  They back inside, and Giani’s nose flares up as he sniffs.

Giani:  Oh for the love-uh… Which one uh ya is responsible for that?

J2H:  I heard once that he who denied it, is in fact the one who applied it.

Ringo:  No, boys, that’s the smell of this terrible city we’re being forced to spend the next seventy-two hours in.

The three of them take one big whiff and their faces sour in unison.  Giani adjusts the strap of his duffle bag as the elevator reaches the tenth floor penthouse suite.  As the door opens, they walk down a short corridor to the door where Giani slides the room key into the slot.  The door opens, and the three step inside.  If there were ever a cozy penthouse suite that exuded luxury, this could very well be it.  There is a granite framed gas fire place abut ten feet from a wide leather couch, and a flat screen television mounted to the wall just to the side.  The plush carpeting stretches throughout the entire room, leading into the three separate rooms.  The Jacuzzi is already bubbling, and the liquor cabinet is fully stocked.  This comes across as the perfect place for three bachelors to get wasted, something that seems well suited for the three young men as we once knew them.  Giani surveys the room and all of it’s glory before looking over to Ringo.

Giani:  This place is a freakin’ dump, bro…  This… is the best that San Jose has to offer?  I’d rather sleep in my car to be honest.

J2H: Dibs on the second row seat…

Ringo:  Think of this as a chance to rough it a little.  We’re men, we can handle it.

Giani shakes his head as he flings his bag down onto the floor in protest.  J2H sighs as he looks around at the room, lifting his lip up in a show of disgust as he walks over to check out the rooms.  He looks into the first one and closes his eyes, hoping that this was just a nightmare, but upon opening his eyes, the groan that ensues lets us know that reality has hit him hard.

J2H:  We’re above this, but I guess if we don’t have a choice in the matter, we can live like animals for three days.

J2H drops his bag inside of the first room as he turns around, pulling the grey muscle shirt from his back pocket and he slides it over himself as he walks over to the leather couch, kicking back while Giani fumbles around in his pocket.  He pulls out his phone.  A smile comes over his face as he lets out a low toned chuckle.  He runs his fingers over the screen as he comes over to the couch, knocking J2H’s feet off of the end of the couch before plopping down.  Ringo stares around the room as he walks over to the window, staring out across the bright cityscape of the night.  He looks over his shoulder to Giani for a second as he types away at the phone.

Ringo:  You seem to be enjoying yourself over there.  Who has you giggling like a school girl?

Giani pauses and looks over at Ringo as a bit of regret comes over his face.  He lowers his eyes with a sigh, before looking over to a confused J2H.

Giani:  Bro, I’m sorry ya gotta be here for this.  I didn’t want an audience when this came out…

Giani then raises his eyes over to Ringo, a sense of sadness washing over his face as he offers a comforting half smile.

[Giani Di Luca]

 Giani:  I’ve found someone else… I’m afraid I’m gonna have to demote ya to “side bae” status.

J2H:  Hey, that’s MY role, remember?

Giani and J2h laugh as he kicks a smirking Giani lightly.  Giani leans over and begins puckering his lips as J2H fends off the beast of a man by pressing his fists against Giani’s chest.  Giani reaches around and pops J2H in the side of the head as he topples over on top of him, but the horsing around is quickly interrupted by the sound of Ringo’s irritated voice.

Ringo:  I don’t know which is worse, the fact that you’re even humoring those half-wits relentless comments, or the fact that you’re jumping into another failed attempt at lust disguising itself as love.

Giani:  What can I say?  That new haircut makes J look pretty.

J2H:  You flatter me so… fucking asshole…

J2H drives an elbow into Giani’s stomach before shoving him off.  Ringo glares at the two with even more contempt in his eyes as he gets closer.  Both men straighten up as Ringo snatches the phone out of Giani’s hand.  He stares at the screen as the disgust almost seems to boil over.

Ringo:  You have got to be kidding me?  Out of all of the ladies you encounter on a regular basis, you had to pick one of the worst options imaginable?

Giani:  But not the worst, so ya gotta give me some credit there.

Ringo:  It’s birds of a feather.  You’re feeding into the constant melodrama of this place, and it’s costing you focus.  Come to your senses before the consequences of your actions comes up and bites you on the ass.

Ringo tosses the phone back at Giani, who catches it, but fumbles with it a little before finally securing it.  Ringo turns around and walks back over to the window as Giani quietly mocks him behind his back  J2H chuckles, and the two straighten up as Ringo looks back at them.  Giani glares right back at Ringo in a form of justification.

Giani:  Look, I’m good at handlin’ bullshit.  Each time I went out in front of the fuckin’ fans, kissin’ their asses, I felt a piece of myself die.  Every freakin’ time, dawg…  Every time I looked at that handicap of a masked freak as he followed me around like a puppy dog, twirlin’ the knife around behind my back, smilin’ in his face, I stayed focused.  I pulled awf one uh the greatest screw jobs in wrestlin’ history! I gave a win to Sean Jackson on my return when I coulda knocked him flat on his fuckin’ back in two seconds… for you!  All while I was seein’ my boo, so don’t fuckin’ tell me I can’t focus and contribute, ‘cause I been doin’ it since the second I left New Jersey, aight bro?

Ringo never once flinches or falters as he allows Giani his outburst without interruption.  The look on his face suggests that he doesn’t like a single word of what Giani is saying, but he doesn’t give the satisfaction of a reaction, that is until Giani finishes.  He cracks a wicked smile and claps his hands together with some enthusiasm.

Ringo: Bravo, Giani.  Your charisma and your conviction are two of the three reasons we wanted you as our third and final member.  We are a well oiled machine, each with our own function within this group.  So long as you continue to pull your weight, I could not care less where you stick your dick.

Ringo cracks a forced smile that blatantly comes across to Giani as such.  He rolls his eyes as he returns his focus back to his phone, typing away at it.  However, he seems a bit distracted by Ringo’s recent words as his eyes lift ever so slightly from the phone.  His fingers slow down as he thinks it over for a moment as we fade…

{Cut Scene: Giani Di Luca}

We fade in to the green room one last time to see a vacant director’s chair.  Instead of the Fuhgeddaboudit background being present, it has been replaced by the Sin City Wrestling logo plastered over the Las Vegas Skyline.  We’re left to focus on this image for a moment before the sound of a door is heard opening.  A shadow flashes across the screen just seconds before Giani Di Luca appears. He stands in front of the camera with his back facing the screen.  We are left with only the sight of a tight fitting black t-shirt clinging to his back, as his jeans hug his backside.  The more we expect Giani to take his seat and give us his thoughts, the longer he seems to enjoy showing us his ass, both literally and figuratively.  He sways from one side to the other as he tucks his fingers between his jeans and his hips.  Clearing his throat, he threatens with a slight tug, causing many to look away while others stare as if it were a train wreck in motion, unable to pry their eyes away.  He sighs out a bit of a laugh as he takes two steps forward, still holding on to his waist line as he slowly turns around to show off the phrase “#Rise” on the front of his t-shirt.  He looks down at the print, staring at it for a moment before he slowly looks up, one eye squinting slightly as he nods his head.  He takes two steps backward before finally letting go of his jeans as he grabs onto the arms of the chair, lowering himself down into it.  He looks over to a small plastic bag that is taped to the left arm of the chair, and he takes it off, opening it as he raises his gaze to the camera.

Giani:  Gotcha…  I bet each and every one uh ya thought you was gonna get to see my gloriously golden ass.  Nah, nah, that’s reserved for one person, and one person only.  Ringo!  Huh?

Giani squints his eyes in faux confusion as he looks around the room for the culprit, despite each of us seeing him move his lips with the high pitched, yet quite awkwardly gritty voice that interrupted him.  He slowly shakes his head as he looks back to the camera, forcing confusion on his face before waving it off. He reaches into the bag and pulls out a glue stick, and some bits of colored thread.

Giani:  Nah, ya see, I ain’t into showin’ my ass publicly, unlike some people around this place.  I don’t enjoy puffin’ my feathers out and struttin’ like a freakin’ peacock around this place. See, unlike our opponents for this week, I don’t say thin’s just to hear myself tawk.  Bullshit! What the…?  Seriously, whoever that is needs to cut it out.  I’m tryin’ to cut a promo here.

Giani narrows his eyes again as he studies the room, all while his hand is fumbling around with the contents of the bag.  He pulls a piece of black cloth out of the bag as he slides it over his left arm, fitting it snugly around his wrist.  He pulls out another piece of grey cloth and pulls it over his right arm, leaving us to ponder something.

Giani:  See, that ain’t what Power Play is awl about.  Yeah, yeah, ya probably thinkin’ “Yay, another revolution!”  Good fuh you, ya got ears and the ability to process sounds into thoughts.

Giani slowly claps his hands together, however his usual energy seems to be lacking despite his ever-present arrogance.  He stops clapping as he fumbles around with the materials of the bag once more.

Giani:  Revolution is the closest word to describe this movement in a way that ya tiny minds can comprehend.  This ain’t a rebellion, it ain’t about takin’ titles and attention.  We gives not a single fuck about any uh that.  Nah, see this sport is ruined by the Kelly Kelly movement of models as wrestlers, and asshole struttin’ around like keyboard warriors.  When ya get enough uh them around, and they start tearin’ each other down, it’s easy to see that some might come to the conclusion that people like Player Club got some talent.  I know I don’t always see eye to eye with the fans, but I can understand where they’re comin’ from. ”Bae!”  What?  â€BAE!  He’s here!  Lets crawl on his nutsack!”  Whoa, waitaminuhhhh…  No, no way!

Giani lifts his left arm up to eye level as he stares at it for a second, inspecting it.  He raises one eyebrow as his lips purse in a show of faux disgust and confusion as he motions with his head toward the mess of thread on his hand.  He slowly turns his hand to show a hand puppet with googly eyes and yellow threads glued to the hand to fashion a short haircut, as well as a bit of a five o’clock shadow drawn around the mouth.  The hand moves up and down as the animated voice continues once more.

”Caleb”:  Now we got his attention, JT.  He can’t hide from us now, we’re in the flesh.

Giani:  Yeah, and twice as annoyin’… Fuck outta here, dawg…

”JT”:  Don’t talk to bae that way!

Giani:  Whoa, double teamin’ on me?  Seriously bro?  The odds ain’t exactly even here.

Giani raises his right hand now to show off a similar hand puppet with longer brown threads on top of the head, and less stubble drawn around the mouth.  He raises his eyebrows in a sense of surrender as he backs his face up slightly.

Giani:  Damn, I guess handicap matches ya M.O. spot on, but ya couldn’t cut me a little slack here, guys?

”JT”:  No!  We won’t rest until we look like God’s gift to wrestling.

Giani:  Ahhh, gotcha.  That sucks though.

”Caleb”:  You suck! Wait, how does that suck?

Both puppets turn to face Giani bobbing their heads from side to side as they wait for an answer.  Giani strokes his chin as he clinches his teeth together in a display of compassion.  He groans as he tries to figure out a nice way of saying what he’s thinking.

Giani:  Well, it sucks ‘cause that ain’t gonna be happenin’ any time soon, no matter how many people ya clobber from behind.  Not as long as Power Play’s around here.  This is our yard, and we don’t like ya dawgs rollin’ up in our yard like this.

”Caleb”:  In the animal kingdom, the canine males run the show, and you three are nothing more than bitches.

Giani:  Bitches?  Really now?  Tawk about an easy out, bro. See, from where I’m standin’ it seems like there are only two bitches in the room right now.

”Caleb”:  Really?  That’s an “I’m rubber, you’re glue” argument.  That’s worse than us.  Look everybody, Giani made a mistake.  Let’s laugh at him!

As fake laughter fills the room, both hand puppets open their mouths and tilt backward a bit to add motion to the poor attempt at laughter.  Giani nods his head as if he is agreeing with them at first, but then he opens his mouth in preparation to say something, but lets the laughter linger for a second longer.

Giani:  No, no, gimme a minute to explain.  Don’t jump to pointin’ out flaws, cause when they ain’t actually there, it makes ya look like dumbasses.  I know how precious ya reputations are for bein’ right are to ya…  Nah, see… What do bitches do?  They run in packs, sniffin’ each others asses…

”Caleb”:  But you’re in a group too!  Two mistakes!  Are you guys seein’ this???

Giani:  Fuck, ya tawk an awful lot dontcha?  See, this is a list kinda thin’ where I say more than one thin’ so maybe ya could shut ya gloryholes for a second and let me finish?

The mouths of the puppets immediately zip as they turn to look at Giani directly.  Giani looks from “Caleb” to “JT” waiting for them to come up with some sort of response.  When one doesn’t come, Giani sighs in satisfaction before continuing.

Giani:  They run in packs, sniff each others asses… But ya know what else is evidence of a bitch?  Lacking male genitals.  I mean, listen to that pussy ass voice of yours, Caleb.  I… I can’t even look atcha without wonderin’ when ya gonna lean over and start lickin’ ya own vagina, no care for who ever else is around…

”Caleb”:  That’s not original at all!

Giani:  Maybe not, but that doesn’t make it any less true.  Now, since I know ya can’t pay attention to thin’s for very long, I’m gonna skip ahead to the last sure tell sign that ya definitely a couple uh bitches… Awl ya fuckin’ do is yap.  Yap, yap, yap, yap!  Seriously!  I might actually take ya serious if ya backed up awl that big tawk ya do, but ya don’t!  Ya got ya asses kicked by a magician and a retard just last week!  That sounds like somethin’ that would happen at a special needs kid’s birthday party, not inside of a wrestlin’ ring!  Ya can’t do shit unless ya attack from behind, and it’s freakin’ sad, broski’s.  Now, I didn’t wanna sit here and fight with ya, ‘cause I prefer to handle my beef in the ring, not with words, or on public forums like a cyber gangsta.  I’ll leave that to you two…

”Caleb”:  That’s because you’re an idiot.  You’re a tool, and you follow whatever your friends do.

Giani raises an eyebrow as he looks at the Caleb hand puppet, getting just inches from its face.  He glares at it with a sense of exaggerated anger in his eyes as he lets that thought linger for a moment.  He slowly returns his gaze back to the camera, shaking his head from side to side as he scoffs at the notion.

Giani:  Just ‘cause I’m from Jersey, everyone figures I’m mentally challenged.  Ya think I’m a fuckin’ idiot.  I could sit here and get mad, defend my intelligence, but that’s not gonna change any opinions.

Giani shrugs his shoulders as he quickly glances to each of the hand puppets.  As he looks from “Caleb” to “JT”, “JT” tilts his head back to say something.

”JT”:  The more you argue it, the more of a dumbass you start to look like.

Giani shakes his head before looking over at “Caleb” with a look of concern.  He leans down, and in a low toned voice, yet still very audible, he whispers to it.

Giani:  Dawg, I don’t mean to butt in on ya business, but did ya give ya bitch permission to speak?  He’s over here mouthin’ off like I give a good God Damn.

”Caleb”:  He’s not my bitch, he’s my friend!

Giani:  Not ya bitch?  Coulda fooled me, dawg… I see how this works.  Ya the 21st century woman in the relationship, right?  The one who wears the pants, works, and bosses her pussy of a husband around while screamin’ nonsense about women’s right instead of havin’ a hot dinner on the table for her husband when he gets in?  Fuck, penis envy’s gotta be a bitch, am I right?

”JT”:  That’s misogynistic!  He’s not a bitch, either!

There is a soft coo that comes from Giani as a sweet smile comes across his face.  He lets go of the Caleb puppet pose just long enough to reach over and pet the JT puppet’s head tenderly, letting the warmth of the moment linger.

Giani:  That’s cute.  Really fuckin’ special, bro.  Defendin’ ya boo like that warms my freakin’ heart.  So, lemme guess.  Ya take turns crammin’ the German in the mudpit?  Nah, I know I came across as a homophone last week, but I seriously wanna know the deal here. I never understood how ya could get any pleasure outta havin’ a dude shove his sausage in ya dirt box, bro.  Do ya have to flip a coin to see whose turn it is to pretend to be the man, or…?

”Caleb”: Rock, Paper, Scissors… Shit!

”JT”:  You told him our secret!

Giani:  Secret?  The Colonel’s recipe is a secret.  The amount of combined botox between the Mean Girls is a secret.  Ya unorthodox prostate exams is anythin’ but a secret!

Giani laughs outwardly at the absurdity he finds in “JT’s” comment as he shakes his head.  He tries to recompose himself, but this takes a moment.  Once he finally does, he looks down at the puppets with contempt in his eyes.

Giani:  Look, I’m gonna be honest here.  I don’t like many people.  I’m not gonna blow smoke up people’s asses to make them think I do, not without bigger purpose.  See, Equinox… that was part of the plan.  The fans had to witness the downfall of one of their favorites to understand our reach, our potential.  That was the first, and the last time that I ever pretended to like someone I couldn’t stand.  You two… you’re different.

”Caleb”:  You mean… you like us?  You really, REAAALLLLLLLY like us, Giani?

Giani:  Hahaha… no.  No, not even a little dawg.  Nah, see I thought the two uh ya coulda been some awright dudes.  There was some common ground.  I tried to play nice, be friendly guy, but then somethin’ happened.  Ya took the last piece of common courtesy I had in me, and ya took advantage of it.  Ya tried hittin’ up my friend, Bianca.  Ya disrespected me in the process.  Ya disrespected my boy, Ringo.  That shit don’t fly with me.  That went out the window real fast, bro… Real freakin’ fast…  It’s not so much that I don’t like ya…  It’s more that I despise ya… I might even loathe the sound of ya freakin’ names.

Giani looks down at the puppets, his fists tightening as he does.  He slowly releases the pose, disbanding the puppets in the process.  He reaches over and pulls the suits off of his arms before picking pieces of the puppets from off of his hand as he gets rather serious, rather quickly.

Giani:  I feel bad for Hydro, ‘cause he’s decided to associate with the Ambiguously Gay Duo, commitin’ career suicide in the earliest stage.  For a fuckin’ pot head, let’s hope he’s smart enough to leave this beef where it belongs… between the four of us.  If not, we got an equalizer of our own.  But, unlike Players Club, Power Play don’t need it.  We don’t need dirty tactics to pull awf wins.  You’ve seen it in singles action, but this week, we’ve been given the opportunity to show how well we work together.  Laugh awl ya want, but we’ll find out on Sunday, won’t we?

Giani folds his hands together, rubbing his thumbs against the black markings on his hands, rubbing the ink off, though he is more focused on what he is saying that cleaning himself up at this point.

Giani:  Go ahead, laugh.  Call me awl the five names ya can think of.  Make ya unoriginal, retarded fuckin’ gay jokes on Twitter.  Insult my intelligence and my style awl ya want.  No, ya got my permission, go for it.  Knock ya’selves out… While ya askin’ ya’self questions on ask fm to make it look like people actually give a shit what ya think… while tappin’ away at the keyboard on ya iPhones, actin’ hard… I’m in the gym trainin’.  I’m out workin’ up a sweat with my girl.  I’m doin’ things that actually benefit my body, thin’s that prepare me for the ring.  I’m not passin’ blunts around with my boys, bakin’ brownies like a gay ass Martha Stewart, or tweetin’ my every “profound” slash retarded, pointless thought for the world to read.  That’s why I’m boss.  That’s why people associate my name with beast mode.  I get results.  I’m a former SCW Heavyweight Champion with a three month reign.  Whether people love me or hate me, they can’t deny me.  The same cannot be said for the two uh ya, though.

Giani shrugs his shoulders, trying to play it cool despite the intensity radiating from his dark eyes.  He runs his hand over his hair, staring at his reflection in the camera lens.  Once he is satisfied with the state of his hair, he allows himself to continue.

Giani:  Show off, bro.  Cheese that shit up.  It’s awright, I ain’t gonna stop ya. Strut like the peacocks ya are.  Walk into Climax Control with that vanity and confidence in abundance, showin’ off for everyone… Enjoy it.  Savor it… ‘cause as soon as “Power” hits them speakers, the wolves are comin’ out.  That’s when shit gets real, boys.  That’s when awl the Twitter rants disappear.  That cheese gets slapped clean awf ya faces.  All that big tawk ya doin’ won’t mean a thin’ when ya come face to face with me and Ringo.  This pack is gonna be on the attack, and ain’t a fuckin’ thin’ ya can do about it but sit back and take it… a stance that the both of ya familiar with, as I understand.  Look, I could sit here awl day pokin’ holes in ya flawed logic, but at the end of the day, our business is not about the words that are said, but the actions that back them up.  Toss ya money around awl ya like, but I make money… money don’t make me.  That’s the problem here.  Two spoiled little kids thinkin’ they are entitled to shit when they ain’t done nothin’ since steppin’ foot in Sin City Wrestlin’.  I hate to break it to ya, but that ain’t gonna change come Sunday.  The only difference is that ya don’t gotta be embarrassed that ya lost to Power Play.  Ya ain’t the first, and damn sure won’t be the last.  Let that sink in for a bit.  Stew in it, ladies.  I’m gonna hit the gym and do what wrestlers do… train.  Fuhgeddaboudit!

With that, Giani holds up to fingers to salute them before pushing himself out of his seat.  He steps closer to the screen, letting the “#Rise” phrase take over the entire screen.  He lets it sink in for a few seconds, jutting his thumbs toward it before flicking his fingers underneath his chin in the ultimate showing of disrespect.  With that, he turns and walks out of the shot as we immediately fade to fuzz, and then to blackness.

{End Cut Scene}

{21st Century Schizoid Man}

[fin]