[Staggs]

 <img src=http://static.tumblr.com/ksjnfqv/lYtlr2v7d/bam_margera_005.jpg>


Laser tag! Stellar pranks!  Daredvil, high flying moves!  Much lack of fucks given!  Yeeeeeeeup!  That’s what most people remember when they think of Jamie Staggs.  Unlike many of the new folks who are watching this video, the die hard fans of SCW past are not at all surprised as this scene unfolds…

The morning light peaks in through the blinds as we find a nude Jamie Staggs, covered only by a giant stuffed giraffe and the arms of a mannequin.  The blankets are thrown about the room, along with a variety of clothes as the excruciatingly loud snoring echoes throughout the room.  His shaggy brown hair blows with each breath taken, blowing around his face.  Once the sun hits just the right angle, Jamie’s eyelids clinch together, and he mumbles something under his breath as he rolls over.  Fresh on his backside is a tattoo that says “Gaylord”, one that he likely has no idea is there.  He reaches back and scratches just above the tattoo.  Yes, a typical after party scene, perhaps even much more tame than expected.  However, there is a sound that slices through the air.

”WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Jamie shoots up in bed, his eyes wide as he looks around the room.  Noticing the giraffe, he raises an eyebrow and then shrugs, leaning in to give it a good morning kiss.  The mannequin hands hang off of his neck in a strange make shift necklace.  He reaches by the bedside and picks up a pair of jeans, sliding them on quickly as he jogs half way around the bed.  He opens up a bedside fridge, pulling out a baby bottle.  He tosses it up into the air, spinning around in a circle before catching it in one hand, the door handle turning in the other.  We pan around to find Jamie walking into a nursery room where he picks up a young child, past the age of bottles clearly, but… Jamie never was the smartest tool in the crayon box… Wait, that’s not right… Anyway…

Jamie:  Little dude, you seriously need to learn how to sleep in.  It’s Sunday morning.

Sean:[/b ]  Toons!  Bungebob!

Jamie:  I could totally go for some Spongebob right now!  What about breakfast?

Sean:  Dordogs!

Jamie:  Fuckin’ A little guy!  I was just dreaming about corndogs!

The blonde child squeals in delight, laughing and clapping as Jamie walks down the hallway, carrying him.  Jamie walks into the kitchen, where he gently sets Sean down in a high chair.  He flips the small television on, where… you guessed it… Spongebob Squarepants is playing.  Sean claps his hands as Jamie opens up the freezer.  A big mist of frost poofs out at him, blinding him for a second before he realizes that there is nothing in there, but a few freezer burned ice cubes.  He picks them up, contemplating before shaking his head, setting them back where they were sitting freely.  He opens up the refrigerator and sees the empty state it’s in.

Jamie:  Dude, we’re out of corn dogs.  I told you last time, it was your turn to do the shopping.

Sean:  No!  Dou do eet!

Jamie:  Seriously dude?  You’ve gotta get a job and start carrying your weight around here.  All ya do is eat and shit!

Sean:  Dit! Dit! Dit!

Jamie:  Watch your mouth!

Sean puckers his lips up as he tries to look down at them.  Jamie rolls his eyes, trying to hide a laugh as he looks at the clock on the wall.  8:15am, give or take… I never could read clocks, but this one had half naked ladies on it, so he had to buy it.

Jamie:  Could we wait like three hours for Pizza Hut to open up?

Sean:  Hungy!  Hungy!

Jamie:  Then we’re gonna have to go shopping.  With all the old people.  They smell worse than you do, stink ass…

Sean:  Candy! Candy! Candy!

Jamie:  Do I look like a bad dad?  I can’t give you candy until at least noon. You need real food. At least corn dogs have all the major food groups.  Corn… dogs… sticks…?

Jamie scratches his head as he thinks it over, counting the three on his fingers.  When it doesn’t add up to five, he just shrugs his shoulders and pulls a hoodie over his head.  He scoops Sean up out of his high chair and begins buzzing his lips together as he flies Sean through the house as if he were an airplane.  They come back around to the nursery.  He picks up a few different options for clothing.  Sean points to both sets of clothes, and Jamie shrugs his shoulders, pulling on the TNMT sweatshirt, followed by a Planes T-shirt.  Then, just as quickly, he pulls a pair of green sweatpants on, followed by red shorts.  Giving the feet a quick tickle, Jamie then slides on two socks, and a pair of TNMT shoes… Hey, at least something matches, right?  He scoops Sean up, and grabs a jacket, and a set of keys.  He places the jacket on Sean’s head as he opens up the black Ford Edge.  He sets Sean in the car seat, buckling him in tightly as Sean worms his way into the jacket.  Jamie hops into the drivers seat and starts the car up.

Sean:  Donalds?

Jamie:  No, since you’re such a freaking slacker, little dude, you gotta sit in the cart while we go to the grocery store.  And, I’m gonna stop and look at like… vegetables and shit.  We’re totally going to avoid the candy aisle.

Sean: DONALDS!  CANDY!

Jamie looks back with a serious (at least as serious as he can) expression on his face as he slowly shakes his head from side to side.  Sean kicks Jamie’s seat, but this only makes him widen his eyes more to emphasize his point.

Jamie:  Broccoli! Broccoli! Calley Flowers! Spinach!

Sean:  Noooooooooo! Mean daddy!

Jamie:  I don’t think we can do this anymore.  You’re 18, right?  Yeah, move out and get a job.

Jamie sticks his tongue out as the kid pouts in defeat.  Jamie backs out of the driveway slowly, watching carefully as he does so.  Once out on the road, he sighs as he fumbles through a CD case.

Jamie:  What should we listen to?

Sean:  Didkid Mummies!

Jamie:  Lady Gaga?

Sean:  Nooooooooooo!

Jamie:  Rah rah, ah ah ah!

Sean:  NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!  DIDKID MUMMIES!

Jamie:  You’re totally my kid… Dropkick Murphys it is…

Jamie pops in the Blackout CD and “This Is Your Life” begins playing.  Sean begins laughing and banging his head to the music.  Jamie smirks as he watches from the rearview mirror.  Jamie lets go of the wheel for a second to air guitar when suddenly the music cuts off.  Jamie’s eyes go wide as a beeping noise comes from the dashboard.

Jamie:  Oh my god, little dude!  What’d you do?!?

Sean:  I not doooeeet!

Jamie:  Yeah you did!

Sean:  Noooooooo!

Jamie begins rapidly tapping buttons on the display until a voice comes through the speakers of the car.

Erik: Hello? Jamie?

Jamie:  OH MY GOD IT’S HAUNTED!!! Every man for himself!

Jamie begins jiggling the handle on the door, trying his best to get out of the car, which is stopped at a red light.  Sean giggles, but Jamie is very serious as he tries to get out.

Jamie:  HELP!

Erik:  Whoa, whoa, Jamie!  It’s your uncle, Erik.

Jamie:  When did you die?  I shoulda sent flowers or something, coz now you’re haunting my car!

Erik:  No, I’m not dead.  You have onStar…

Jamie closes one eye as he tries to think on this, muttering a “huh” response to his uncle.  Erik sighs a long winded breath into the phone, and we can only assume he is shaking his head in disbelief.

Erik:  Your cell phone is connected to your car.

Jamie:  It is?

Erik:  Yeah… apparently.  Look, I was calling to wish you a Happy Birthday.

Jamie:  Oh, thanks.  Happy Birthday to you too, unk!

There is a laugh that comes through the speakers, but this only leaves Jamie further baffled.  Cars begin honking behind him as he tries to figure out what’s going on now.  Jamie knocks his fist against the stereo panel as he looks back to Sean.

Jamie:  Can ya get that little dude? I need to figure out how this thing became a cell phone too…

On cue, Sean raises his fists into the air, flipping the honking cars off behind him.  He squeals with laughter as he waves them around with a little dance.  Jamie continues to inspect this as the cars veer around Jamie, shouting obscenities at him.

Erik:  It’s not my birthday, Jamie.

Jamie:  Well, it’s not mine either!

Erik:  Today is November 25th, right?

Jamie shrugs his shoulders, making an audible, yet very jumbles “I don’t know” type of response, despite the date being present on the control panel he’s currently inspecting.

Erik:  It is… Jesus Fucking Christ, Jamie, how did you have a kid?

Jamie:  Well, if you really wanna know, you’re gonna have to wait until I don’t have my son in the car. That’s kinda inappropriate, ya know?

As Jamie says this, Sean has turned over in his seat, mooning the passing cars while puckering his lips together, telling them to “kiss it”, all while Jamie nods in approval.  He reaches back and high fives the kid before shrugging his shoulders and driving off, just as the light turns yellow.

Erik:  That’s not… Anyway, I wanted to wish you good luck with the Battle Royal this Sunday night.

Jamie:  Uhhhhh, yeah… What?

Erik:  Are you stoned, kiddo?

Jamie:  I sell piss to stoners to pass drug tests, so I hope not.  How do you think Scott Oliver comes up clean every time?

Erik:  Nice.  I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that… So, the Battle Royal, you do remember signing up for it, don’t you?

Jamie makes a sharp turn down a busy street as he shakes his head slowly from side to side, letting his uncle know that his answer is a big, fat “no.” Of course, his uncle can’t see this, but the silence is enough of an answer for him.

Erik:  Are you serious?

Jamie:  Yes, I am serious! Nahhhhhhh!  I can’t remember that far back.  What was that, like three months ago?

Erik:  It was actually less than a week ago…  Yeah, so you are showing up to Climax Control, aren’t you?

Jamie:  I don’t know what Kittie told you, but I’m excellent at controlling my climax. That’s why we didn’t have kids for like two years.

Erik:  Sin City Wrestling’s weekly show, titled “Climax Control”!  Will you be there?

Jamie:  Sounds like the set of a porno. We don’t have to see each other’s dongs, do we? That would be kinda awkward.

There is a long silence on the other end as Jamie starts imagining scenarios of the wildest proportions. Having to stop eating phallic items, canceling holiday events, and the definite need for about a thousand lobotomies all run through his mind as his eyes grow wide.

Erik:  Only if you lose the Battle Royal.  It was all in the contract you signed, somewhere in the fine print.  Also, if you don’t show up, you have to… I don’t know… something terrible here…

Jamie:  That IS terrible!  Okay man, I… I’ll be there!  Promise!  I don’t wanna see dongs, or hairy danglers, especially old, saggy, wrinkly ones!

Erik:  I kind of resent that.

Jamie:  Yeeeeeahhhh you do!  So, who all is in this Battle Royal thingy where the punishment is to stare at your dong?

Erik:  Can we PLEASE stop talking about my dong?  I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with my manhood…  Did your mother hug you too much as a child?  Or not enough?

Jamie turns the car into the parking lot of a grocery store, driving around to find a spot, despite the busy holiday shopping crowd.

Jamie:  My mom’s gonna be in the Battle Royal?  Wait… am I… dead?  I hope I’m not dead, and if I am, I sure as hell don’t wanna fight my mom! I knew I shoulda said more Hail Mary’s in the confessional, instead of performing the Hail Mary with a hopeful nun…

Erik:  The card is posted on the site.  You should probably have a look and see who your opponents are so that you can research.

Jamie:  That sounds like work, and I’m not a fan of that. I prefer to just show up and see what happens.

Erik:  Yeah, how has that worked out for you so far?

Jamie shrugs his shoulders once more, letting out a “meh” sound as he pulls into a parking spot, cutting off an old lady in the process.

Jamie:  It’s worked out okay. Ya win some, and ya lose some, right?

Erik:  It’s such a shame. I remember you coming ever so close to a World Championship reign when you actually focused on the big picture.  Some people even said you could have surpassed your brother, you know, since you have charisma, and he is all mopey and whiny.

Jamie:  You sir need to not talk about Tommy like that, okay?!

Erik:  I was talking about Spike, you Neanderthal…

Jamie:  I thought we were German-Irish.  Look, I don’t care where we come from. I don’t care who I’m facing.  I’m just going to party hard, and have fun in the ring.  The fans always seem to like it when I’m having fun, so it’s a double win kinda thing, ya know?

Jamie steps out of the car, and begins getting Sean out of his car seat.  He slams the doors shut with his foot as he walks over to a cart.  He places Sean in the cart, buckling him in as he looks up at the sky.

Jamie:  You there?

*Silence*

Jamie:  Hello? … Well, that’s fucking rude… hanging up on me because I said you probably have a shriveled ding-a-ling… RUDE!

Woman:  You want to talk about rude?  You took my parking spot!

Jamie looks over, confused at the sound of the old lady’s statement.  Before he can respond, she has already approached him, and gets in an epic dick kick that brings Jamie down to one knee.  She slams her cane against the side of his head with the force of a tropical breeze before turning around and walking off.  Jamie tries to speak, but all that comes out is a raspy squeak as Sean points and laughs at his father.  Jamie bows his head in shame as the scene fades… TO BLACK!