[Jake Sullivan]

 Monday October 20th
Parris Island, South Carolina

Most of the members of the Seven Deadly Sins are packing their belongings, getting ready to head to the next stop of SCW’s tour of military bases across the country.  From Parris Island, they move on to Fort Bragg, North Carolina before their final stop for High Stakes IV.  While everyone else is prepared to head on to Climax Control in North Carolina, the biggest spoil sport in the group, Rage, is not.  In fact, he has other plans.  Plans that are about to anger his valet and Sins stablemate, Kittie.

Kittie, Synn, Despayre, Shane and Fantasia are waiting for him down in the lobby of the hotel.  They’ve all just finished checking out, but Rage felt the need to take his time in gathering his things before joining them.  As he approaches the others with his duffel bag in tow, Kittie rolls her eyes and stands up from the chair she was seated in.

Kittie: Damn, it’s about time, peanut head!  Did you really have that much crap to look for in your room?

Rage glares at Kittie and just as he is about to flip her off, he spots Despayre smiling at him from the corner of his eye, and he stops himself.  Kittie grins as she folds her arms.

Rage: Shut up, Kittie.  I told you that you guys didn’t have to wait for me.  I was calling the airport anyway.

Synn looks at him curiously.

Synn: Why?  Our flight is already arranged…

Kittie: Despy, did you mess with his flight again?!

Despayre shakes his head quickly.

Despayre: It wasn’t me!  I swear!

Rage manages to let out a half laugh as Kittie automatically assumes Despayre had caused more mischief, but he shakes his head defending Despayre.

Rage: While I do make sure to double check my flight reservations after the crap Despayre has caused in the past, this has nothing to do with that.  I actually changed my flight myself because I’m not going to North Carolina.  I’m going back to Vegas.

Kittie: Oh come on!  Don’t try and make up some excuse that you need to be by yourself before you match next—

Rage shakes his head again and holds up his hand, silencing Kittie.

Rage: I’m not coming back for Climax Control.  I’m not facing that…

Rage stops short of finishing his thought.  He reaches into his pocket and pulls out some cash, quickly handing it over to Despayre.

Rage: …asshole, Horace Jackson.  I’m not doing it, so I’m going back to Vegas.

Despayre doesn’t even bother shouting the words ‘Swear Jar’ as he places the money into his pocket.  He looks down at Angel with a big grin.

Despayre: You’ll be able to buy your own place soon Angel and it’s all because of Rage’s mouth!

Everyone but Rage gets a laugh out of that, but Kittie and Synn turn towards Rage, looking at him disappointedly.

Synn: You do realize you’re contractually obligated to show up for that match, right?  

Kittie: Why the hell are you refusing to face Horace Jackson?!

Rage: Why the hell should I face that Darth Vader wanna-be?  First Gabriel and I had to face those two idiots in R.O.A.R.  Now I’m put in a match against Horace Jackson?  

Kittie rolls her eyes.  She looks over at Synn.

Kittie: Give me a few seconds alone with this big stupid asshole and I’ll be right back.

Synn just nods as Kittie steps toward Rage, grabbing him by the arm.  Normally she wouldn’t be able to pull him away due to his obvious size advantage, but he doesn’t even fight Kittie.  She pulls him several feet away from the others so they, particularly Despayre, can’t hear her scolding him.

Kittie: What the hell is your problem lately?

Rage: Excuse me?  

Kittie: What are you suddenly deaf now?  You heard me!  The past couple of weeks you’ve been more pissed off than normal and now you’re talking about no-showing for a damn match?  Why the hell would you turn down the opportunity to beat the hell out of Horace Jackson?

Rage rolls his eyes, not ready to be lectured by Kittie.

Rage: I don’t know if you’ve noticed this lately or not, Kittie, but I’ve only had one fucking match since my Heavyweight title shot against Drake Green at Violent Conduct II.  One..fucking…match.  Now, granted it helped out that first couple of weeks after because we were busy looking for you…

Kittie goes to speak, but Rage holds his hand up, stopping her.

Rage: But how the fuck do I go from challenging for the heavyweight title to the bottom of the fucking ladder?  Do they not realize they’re just proving Gabriel right more and more by doing that shit?

Kittie: So instead of just doing what you SHOULD be doing and not giving a shit about who you’re facing, you’re gonna be a little bitch by crying and running back to Vegas?  

Rage stays silent, brooding almost as he looks away from Kittie.

Kittie: How about this…instead of being a big baby about it, why don’t you just DO SOMETHING when you’re not booked.  Make a fucking impact!

Rage: Did you ever stop to think that maybe I WOULD have been doing something if I weren’t trying to find YOU?!  

At this point, Rage is shouting loud enough so everyone can hear.  The managers and front desk employees, patrons of the hotel and the Sins all turn their attention to him and Kittie.

Rage: Excuse me for trying to fucking find you instead of focusing on the bullshit in SCW!  FUCK!

Kittie doesn’t even budge as Rage shouts at her.  She doesn’t know what to say at first, before she gives him a warning glare.

Kittie: Well…You’re still getting your ass to North Carolina and you WILL beat the shit out of Horace Jackson whether you like it or not!

Rage: WHY?!

Kittie: Because I said so!

Kittie hauls back and punches Rage as hard as she can, further proving she means business.  While it has little effect on the big man, she doesn’t care as she storms off away from him.  Before she walks out of the hotel before the others, she stops in front of Synn.

Kittie: Peanut head will be joining us in North Carolina.

She then turns and walks out of the hotel, waiting for the others to follow behind her.  Shane chuckles to himself as Rage walks up to the group, glaring at Shane and Fantasia with their amused smiles on their faces.

Rage: What the hell are YOU laughing about, Shane?

Shane chuckles again as Despayre turns to look at Shane curiously.

Shane: I just find it funny that you called Gabriel pussy whipped…

Fantasia: And in this situation, that phrase seems very…fitting?

Synn can’t hold back a chuckle though Despayre seems a bit confused.  He looks to his father, and Synn just shakes his head, motioning he’ll explain it later.  Though, in all reality, he probably won’t be able to.  Rage just snarls before he grabs his duffel bags and walks out of the hotel with the others following behind him.

Thursday Night- October 23rd
North Carolina

It’s been a very slow week thus far in North Carolina.  At least for Rage it has been.  While Synn has been working with Despayre and getting him ready for his match against “Dark Tiger” Sebastian Hardin, Rage has done little to no preparations for his match against Horace Jackson.  The only preparing he’s doing at the moment is push-ups or sit-ups in his hotel room, as he’s not even remotely tired enough to get some sleep.

His large frame is sprawled out on the floor of his room as he continues to do some sit-ups, not even bothering to count.  He has barely even broken a sweat on his bare chest when a soft knocking on the door.  He stops and sits up, looking around, and when the knocking comes again he growls quietly to himself before he stands up and puts his t-shirt back on.

He walks over to the door and looks out the peephole, letting out a sigh before he opens the door to see Kittie standing there.

Rage: Gee, I’m surprised you decided to knock for once and didn’t just lie to the front desk to get a spare key like you’ve done in the past.

Kittie puts on a mock smile before she flips him off.

Kittie: It was a tempting idea, but I really didn’t want to risk walking in here to see your bare ass again so I decided against it.

Rage rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

Rage: Whatever.  What do you want?

Kittie: Is there any particular reason you’ve wasted this week away doing push ups and sit ups in your room rather than training in the ring with Despy and Synn?

Rage: Because I don’t feel like doing any training this week.  Not that I really have to do much of anything anyway.  I’m facing Horace Jackson in a Halloween themed match that we don’t even know yet!  What’s the point?

Kittie shakes her head and just laughs.

Kittie: The point is to prepare for anything you dumbass.  You really need to stop underestimating your opponents and letting shit get to you because if you don’t, you’ll never get the Heavyweight title back.  I don’t even know how you managed to lose to Drake—

Rage narrows his eyes and growls, silencing Kittie before she can finish talking.

Rage: How about we don’t talk about that shit, okay?

Kittie holds her hands up in defeat.

Kittie: Fine, but I still think you need to do some training tomorrow.  At least do something outside of this room because honestly, I really don’t think you want to lose to that freak, Horace.  Losing to Drake is one thing, but Horace?

Kittie shakes her head with a laugh.

Kittie: Try and save yourself the embarrassment.

Rage: You know what, Kittie, I’m really not in the mood for this shit tonight.  I don’t really feel like arguing with you tonight and I’m sick of you telling me what the fuck to do so—

Kittie: Yeah, I get that, and I’m not here to argue with you.  At least not tonight.  

Rage raises an eyebrow.

Rage: Ookay…then why exactly are you here?  

Kittie: To talk about the bullshit that happened with Electra…

Rage seems surprised at Kittie bringing this up, but his surprise soon turns to annoyance.

Rage: Seriously, Kittie?  That shit is over and done with.  I sent the bitch through a table.  We don’t need to worry about her anymore.

Kittie: Would you let me talk, asshole?  And preferably inside so the whole floor can’t hear me.

Rage takes in a deep breath then lets out a sigh before he steps aside, letting Kittie inside.  She walks past him and he closes the door behind her.

Rage: Happy now?

Kittie: Has anyone ever told you that you have a really horrible way of showing you care?

Rage looks confused as Kittie turns around and looks at him.

Rage: What the hell are you talking about?  What does that have to do with anything?

Kittie: I’m not an idiot, Rage.  I know how hell bent you were on finding me when that flaming psycho ex-bitch of yours took me.  

Rage: Yeah?  You’re point?

Kittie: My point is you won’t even give me the chance to say thank you!  You just find every damn opportunity to argue with me about something, even when I’m not trying to argue.

Rage: What the hell do you need to thank me for?  Did you honestly think I was going to let that bitch get away with it?  

Kittie shrugs and looks down to the floor.

Kittie: Hell if I know how to answer that one.  You were so back and forth with her, for all I know she could have persuaded you to walk away from us.

Rage lets out a laugh.

Rage: I’m not stupid, Kittie.  You may aggravate the hell out of me, but I wasn’t going to let her keep you any longer than she did.

Rage shakes his head and then walks over to his duffel bag and takes a few things out.

Kittie: Well…again, thank you.  What are you doing?

Rage: For fuck’s sake…I’m going to take a shower.  Is that okay with you?

Kittie: Geez, I was just making sure that’s what you were going to do.  I was getting grossed out by the smell of your nasty body odor…

Kittie cracks and smile and laugh and Rage rolls his eyes.

Rage: Fuck you.  Do me a favor and let yourself out…

Kittie just nods as Rage disappears into the bathroom.  The sound of the shower turning on is heard a little while later as Kittie just looks around the room.  She doesn’t do as she’s told by letting herself out, though, and instead heads over to the sofa against the wall.  She lays down, placing her head against one of the pillows and closes her eyes.  It doesn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep.

Just across the room, Rage’s phone lights up on the table.  It starts buzzing against the table as someone is trying to call him repeatedly, waiting for him to answer, but of course he doesn’t.  About thirty minutes goes by before Rage walks out of the bathroom, luckily wearing a pair of boxers as he’s running the towel over his head, drying off his hair.  He spots Kittie sleeping on the sofa and shakes his head, but he doesn’t do the predictable thing in waking her up.  Instead, he grabs a spare blanket and walks over to Kittie, placing the blanket over her and letting her sleep.  

His phone continues to light up and buzz around on the table, but he doesn’t bother to check it as he lays down in bed, preparing to go to sleep for the night.  Whoever is trying to call him is forced to leave a message, hoping he’ll return their call in the morning…

“Horace Jackson…a fucking nobody who really thinks he stands a chance at beating me.  What is it with these assholes Mark, Christian and Erik are hiring these days?  They’ve got a whole hell of a lot of confidence for no fucking reason.”

“Horace…just because you have the balls to start a beef with Mark Ward, doesn’t mean you’ve got what it takes to beat me.  I don’t give a shit what former champions in SCW you say you’ve beaten, because the fact of the matter is that you haven’t beaten anyone that mattered.”

“I’m tired of facing assholes like you, Horace.  I’m sick and fucking tired of talentless pieces of shit running around, thinking they deserve shit…You deserve nothing except the bottom of my boot or my fist against your face.  And this Sunday, that’s exactly what will happen.”

“I don’t give a shit if this is our Halloween show and every match has a special Halloween stipulation.  Do you really think that’s going to stop me from beating your ass one way or another?  Do you really think that just because you’ve got a slight size advantage over me that it really means anything?  Sorry, buddy, it doesn’t, because I’ve got the fucking attitude to get the job done.”

“I have to admit, it’s really hard to pay attention to a guy like you because you try and act all intimidating, when really…you’re far from it.  How the fuck is anyone supposed to take you seriously when you parade around looking like Darth Vader?  I’m not scared of that shit, and I never will be, so I suggest you find some other way to try and intimidate me, but I have to say you’ll be looking for quite a while.”

“Horace, if I wasn’t intimidated by Drake Green, what the fuck makes you think I’ll be scared of you?  I’m not going to let the biggest knock off of them all…next to Equinox of course…beat me in ANY type of match, but go ahead and continue thinking that.  I’ll just enjoy watching the look of disappointment on your face.”

“And as for the special commentator, Bruce Evans…well…if you’re smart, Bruce…You’ll stay the fuck out of my way and not try and get involved in this one.  Because if you do anything to cost me this match, I’ll make sure to put you out of commission for good, asshole.  That’s your only warning.”

“See ya Sunday, Horace...and leave your light saber at home, because not even that can save you.”