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Fallout (Part 2)
#NP “The Boys†by Nicki Minaj
Locale: Grand Princess Cruise
Storyteller: Giani Di Luca
Bro….
That’s all I can say about all of this drama. If I wanted this kinda drama, I woulda joined the Mean Girls. I thought teamin’ wit’ dudes, it would all be parties, sluts, and just general good times. Fawwwwwwk, was I wrong…
Look, I ain’t takin’ nothin’ away from Dax or Mickey. Everyone says enough ‘bout them, sayin’ that they are only weighin’ me down. They act like I’m the only one who deserves to be cocky in the Bad Boys. I deserve to be cocky. Got title reigns comin’ out my ass, and even though they wasn’t a bunch of them, ya better believe that each fawkin’ one counted. Quality over quantity, and everyone knows better than to tawk shit on my accomplishments, cause I’ll back each and every one of them up. Mickey got two title reigns under his belt, so people don’t say much about him, but Dax? Gotta be honest here. If Dax ever left the tag title scene, he would decimate any champion SCW got, minus J2H, cause that kid unstoppable. But Dax could give him a run for his money. Anyone who says that he ain’t memorable inside of the ring is a fawkin’ idiot who don’t pay a lick of attention to the screen when he’s on. I ain’t seen someone that size fly around so flawlessly like that since Spike Staggs. Yeah, I mentioned Dax and Spike Staggs in the same sentence.
Yeah, that was aimed right at you, Jamie Dean. Fawk you, dawg. Dax could run circles around ya any given day of the week. So go ahead and make tweets about boring moves and small penises. Project ya own insecurities somewhere else, cause the Bad Boys are above that shit.
But, like I was sayin’, the Bad Boys gone through some serious drama lately. It ain’t all be parties and bitches. When I entered this marriage, I thought it was about keepin’ Mickey in the country, and that we would each keep doin’ our thing. Me and Veronica, Dax and Celeste, Mickey and Mercedes. Then bombshell fell, and Dax came out to us after the wedding, when we was out on the yacht. No runnin’ from that one. Somehow, I guess he knew I was outta his league, so he started carryin’ a flame for Mickey. Mickey was like “Bro, I’m straight.†I’m like “Alright, it’s cool. Dax got him a side piece, so problem solved.†Wrong. Mickey started gettin’ jealous of Dax’s side hustle and decided he was gonna cock block our boy until the guy left him alone. I’m thinkin’ “It’s cool. Mickey’s just possessive of his friends. Weird, but alright.†How did that turn out? Oh, for only the second time in my entire life… I was wrong. Mickey was crushin’ on his old boy, Ben Jordan. For years, apparently. He got turned down, and some people suspect it’s only cause me and Dax smashed his fawkin’ head in wit’a set uh steel chairs and Mickey just watched. If Mickey woulda been a stand up guy, he and Ben probably woulda rode off back to London in the sunset, and I’d have Dax all to myself…
That’s called a joke. Don’t look at me like that. Of course, Dax took it all personally, and started bitchin’ on Twitter, and any time Mickey tried to return the favor to Dax, Dax acted like a girl and brushed it awf. Goddamn, Dax… just break the ginger bastard awf a piece, yaknowhatimsayin’?
Don’t get me wrong. Mickey and Dax could smoosh each other, they could smoosh other people. They could smoosh the entire cruise ship, minus myself, and I wouldn’t give a shit. The problem is that they just won’t do what everyone knows they should do, and that’s… smoosh! Just get it ovuh wit’, guys. We got tag titles to win.
In the meantime, I’m sittin’ poolside as Dax calls yet anotha’ truce. Maybe they can get their heads outta their asses long enough for us to actually stand a chance. I got this cougar eyeballin’ me from across the pool, and I gotta admit. I’m interested. Never done it with a mom before. I flex my arms out as I make my pecs dance. She’s enjoyin’ the show, but she ain’t tryin’ to be that obvious. I lift my sunglasses up to my forehead as I wink at her. The sun is shinin’ off of my Adonis lookin’ body, and for a second, I think to myself… “What about Veronica?†Then I remember… What about Veronica? Is she here? Have ya seen her the entire time ya been on the ship? She’s probably more worried about puttin’ on ten layers of sunscreen before comin’ out in the sun, so that she looks fit as fuck for when she gets pinned by Devona in a few days.
I see somethin’ I want… just like I wanted to run the best Freebird style tag team SCW ever saw. Just like I wanted the SCW Tag Team Championships twice. Just like the SCW Roulette Championship. Just like Veronica Taylor, once upon a time. And even more valuable than her, just like I saw the SCW World Heavyweight Championship. I saw these things, and I took ‘em cause I wanted ‘em. This time is no different. I stand up from my beach chair as she bites her bottom lip. I go to walk towards her when Dax comes runnin’ up to me. He practically smashes into me as he taps my shoulder like he was a five year old tryin’ to get his mom’s attention.
Dax: Gi, Gi, Gi, Gi, Gi…
I try to ignore him as I look back over at the cougar, 9 o’clock. She opens her legs like she’s invitin’ me in. Poor fawkin’ timin’, Dax. He keeps tappin’ my shoulder like I don’t see him standin’ there.
Dax: Bruh! Hey, Gi!
Me: WHAT?!
Dax: Are you seeing this shit on Twitter?
I look at him to ask him if he’s serious. I raise my eyebrows as I motion with my eyes toward the cougar. He doesn’t follow my eyes, so I pinch the bridge of my nose and look him dead in the eye.
Me: Naw, bro. In case ya haven’t noticed, I don’t get on Twitter a lot. That’s more ya bag, dawg. You and Mickey.
Dax: Exactly! Mickey is on there being fucking weird, and I don’t even get what game he’s trying to play. He’s talking like the Ben Jordan shit never happened.
I stare at him like he’s got two freakin’ heads, cause this kid is tawkin’ nonsense. It’s pure craziness. I shake my head as I look back over at the cougar, who has turned over on her back, kicking her legs up and down slowly as she looks back to make sure I’m still watching.
Me: You do realize that he got knocked out by ya pops, and he’s been tryin’ to make nice with ya cause he obviously feels bad. Plus, this match we got comin’ up is big, and this shit is a distraction we don’t be needin’ right now.
Dax: So I’m supposed to just pretend that he didn’t make me think he was straight as an arrow, only to then drop the bombshell that he was in love with his best friend who you and me just smacked over the head with a mad chair shot? Oh, and then when he realizes he upset me, he just tries to pretend that none of it happened, and then tries to score the hook up? Fuck that…
He continues rambling on, and I understand his side of the story. I really do. He’s got a point, but… momma over there is basically rubbing it all up in my face, and I’m probably a shitty friend, but I can’t ignore that. I mean, I wanna be nursin’ on her like a newborn. I bite at my bottom lip as she rubs a little more tanning oil on her lower back, sliding gently down past her bikini line.
Dax: Are you even listening? Do you even care? Look, like I told him, I can be his friend, and I can win the tag titles, but I can’t deal with this shit. My heart is not a fucking yo-yo that he can just play with when he’s got nothing going on. That’s fucked up.
Me: Look, kid… I see ya point. I get where ya comin’ from. I do. But, this is a really bad time, and ya not gonna listen to anythin’ I got to say anyway, s…
Dax: Well, then let’s hope for all of our sakes, that I lose the contest to decide who winds up going for the tag titles, because I’m not gonna be the one who gets blamed for causing dysfunction in our match, and I sure as shit won’t be blamed for losing.
I groan as I look back toward the cougar, who is now sitting up in her chair, shrugging her shoulders at me with her arms held out at her side. I start to walk toward her slowly as Dax follows me.
Dax: Oh, I gotcha. You know what, go do you and I’ll find someone else to go talk to.
Me: Oh… Hahahaha… Ya a funny guy, Dax. In case ya didn’t notice, ya got me and Mickey. Not to be a douchebag, but ya do realize that less people like ya than they do Mickey, and Mickey’s pretty short on friends right about now.
Dax: Fuck you!
Me: Yeah? Well fawk you too, bro. Take ya drama and shove it up ya ass. I gotta say, I’m about sick and tired of this shit, and I ain’t even in it. Well, until ya drag me into it.
Dax looks over and sees the cougar staring at me, and he turns white as a ghost. He tucks his head, as if he was intimidated by her, and then he shouts in my face, very awkwardly at that…
Dax: I love you, husband! Very, very much! I must go prepare myself for our love making…
Dax then rushes off like he’s scared of somethin’. I didn’t get it right away, because I think he’s just tryin’ to cock block me, and I cuss him out as he takes off down the deck, and I turn around to see the cougar hasn’t run off yet, and she’s lookin’ at me even harder than she was before. I crack my charmin’ smile as I start to walk over toward her, when another hand taps on my shoulder. I turn around to see Mickey standin’ there.
Me: Motherfucker…
Mickey: Gi, we gotta talk about Dax.
Me: NO! I’m tryin’ to get laid, bro. L-A-I-D! Cougar at nine o’clock.
Mickey looks over his shoulder, right at her as if he ain’t got no shame. I sigh as he nods his head.
Mickey: Top notch bird there. I think yer muscles ‘ave got ‘er hooked, bruv. This is kind of important, and we need to talk about it.
Me: No… we don’t. You and Dax need to tawk about it, cause it’s ya problem. Even if I wasn’t tryin’ to bag this DTF motha’, I still wouldn’t wanna hear about this shit. I support ya. I’ll buy a GSA t-shirt and march in parades with ya. But I’m so sick of him bitchin’ that ya so far in the closet that ya findin’ Christmas presents.
Mickey: I’m not in the closet. I think I made it loud and clear when I…
Me: Oh, I thought it was that ya was playin’ *air quotes* mind games wit’ Ben. No… ya right. No one bought that sack of shit you was sellin’. But again, I don’t care. Go catch up wit’ Dax and do all kinds’a butt stuff. Bang out the beef ya got. Kiss and make up. Just get on the same fawkin’ page, dawg. Let ya balls drop and be… you…
Mickey almost seems offended by it for a second. I shake my head as I turn to walk away from him, and this entire situation. That’s when I notice that the cougar left the seat she was in, and she’s nowhere to be found. I clinch my fists together and growl as Mickey’s attitude seems to change. He nods his head as he starts to walk away.
Mickey: For a stupid fuckin’ Itie, ye actually bring up a good point. Me ‘ard ‘eaded pride needs to be set aside so that I can chase what I think could make me ‘appy. Thanks mate…
Mickey takes off as I begin scanning the crowd for a good replacement, since I got all worked up. I don’t see anyone who catches my interest, but I do see a piece of paper sittin’ on her beach chair. I walk over to it and pick it up, and instantly, it smells like top shelf champagne and roses. I unfold it and it reads “508 - 10 minutes, or I start without you XXX Momâ€
Me: Now that’s what I’m tawkin’ ‘bout!
I take off for the 500 lodges, tough part of me wants to see her start without me, so I try not to geek too hard. What happens next ain’t for ya eyes, so fawk off, kid…
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Linner? Dunch? Promo!
#NP “Praying†by Kesha
Locale: Grand Princess Cruise Ship
Storyteller: Dax Beckett
Persistence is key. I bugged Alexis Staggs to the point that she had to give me the time of day. Of course, she’s being a grumpy bitch as she walks up to the table without so much as a single word, before she pulls her chair out and plops down into it as she drops her purse on the table. She just stares at me as I smile and stare back at her with some kind of hope on my face. I have a cigarette between my lips, and then I think about it for a second. I blow the smoke over my shoulder, and then flick the cigarette out into the water. She laughs, but it’s not the kind of laugh that says “You are charmingly funny, Dax.†Nope, not at all. She shakes her head and rolls her eyes.
Me: Sorry, wasn’t thinking about the little Staggy on board.
Alexis: Fuck you.
Me: Whoa-ho-hoooo there. Honest mistake.
Alexis: No, that wasn’t even because of the cigarette, Dax. That’s because you’re a disgusting bastard, and I loathe you with every ounce of my being. I’ve never, ever liked you, since the day we met.
I stare at her, kind of hurt to hear it, even though I pretty much knew it all along. However, she doesn’t expect me to do what I do next. I reach under the table, and I pull out a black jacket. I spread it out on the table, revealing the faded red #Nobodies lettering as I slowly slide it across the table. She groans in disgust as she narrows her eyes at me.
Me: Look, you know I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t important to me. I need to cash in that favor I was promised when The Nobodies broke up and I wound up flat on my ass.
Alexis: What the hell do I look like The fucking Godfather of the Nobodies? Get lost with this shit. That’s Tim’s deal with you, not mine.
Me: Now, now… hear me out. I’m not asking for money like a lot of the other losers did. I’m not asking for anything selfish, I promise. I know I earned my reputation of being an asshole, and I own that shit. But, I got one little soft spot left, and it would mean a lot to her if you would just talk to her.
Alexis stares at me, a mixture of surprise and frustration. The waiter brings us each a glass of ice water, and she takes hers right from his hand and takes a sip. She shakes her head and sucks at her teeth as she tries to put words to it all.
Alexis: I… gotta say. I wasn’t expecting that. At all. Kudos, asshole.
Me: So, will you do it? I understand that she won’t talk to me anymore, but she’s had one foot out the fucking door here, and she is way more alone than ever.
Alexis: Yeah? Well, that’s her fault for joining up those bimbo airheads.
Me: No she fucking doesn’t! That’s like saying since you flirt with Kris Halich every goddamn day, that you deserve to get lynched by the Nobodies that got fucked when he decided to run away because he was sad? Look, I know how you are, because we’re a lot alike.
Alexis slaps the top of the table as she looks like she wants to strangle me to death as she leans a little over the table.
Alexis: We are nothing alike.
Me: Fuck yeah we are. Even if we won’t ever admit it in front of people. We’re two peas in a fucking pod, and you know it. It’s why we never got along. But, listen. Celeste doesn’t deserve alienation, and deep down, you know it. If you have any sense of honor or respect, you’ll talk to her.
Alexis: Whatever. Look, is that all you wanted to ask? I’d like to go ahead and take off, because… this fucking sucks. I mean, being around you.
I wink at her and click my teeth as I shake my head.
Me: If that was it, then I wouldn’t have bothered having to spend time with you. I would have just DM’ed you or something. No, see…
I look over to the left as I hear someone fumbling with a camera. I close my eyes as I watch the SCW cameraman approach the table. I look down at my phone to see that they are a good twenty minutes early, and I groan. The waiter brings Lexi and me the Vegan special, which is apparently just hummus and an arugula salad with vinaigrette dressing. Not even a tofu patty. Lexi looks at it and lifts up the leaves as she studies it with a disgusted look on her face.
Cameraman: Hey, Mr. Beckett. I’m here for your quick thoughts on your match this Sunday at…
Me: You’re fucking early, Ted! I was just having a conversation with Lexi here, and you rudely interrupted our lunch!
Ted: Well, I could wait over here until you guys are done.
I look right at the camera in his hand and I pinch the bridge of my nose as I make sure to let him hear me scoff at him. I look over to Lexi, and neither one of us wants to be stuck with one another for any longer than we have to.
Me: No… let’s get this shit over with. I don’t need you eavesdropping on our conversation. It’s “sensitiveâ€. Look, you and me got a conversation of our own to have, right? Big title match coming up in just a few short days. Lots of shit to talk.
Alexis: Do I really need to be here for this? I think I’m going to be sick.
Me: Oh, is it the baby? The food?
Alexis shakes her head as she looks directly at me for some reason. I can’t figure out why, though. Oh well, I turn to Ted, and give him the thumbs up as he sets up the tripod
Me: This shouldn’t take long, and we have plenty more to discuss. Just sit tight…
Alexis folds her arms across her chest, but she surprises me by not getting up and leaving. Once I realize she’s staying put, I turn back toward the camera to see Ted finishing the set up. He turns the camera on, and then gives me a silent countdown with his fingers. 5, 4, 3, 2…
Me: Good evening, Sin City Wrestling fans. One of your favorite Bad Boys of all time here… Dax Beckett? Don’t act so surprised. My social media views have doubled in the last two weeks. I’m up to eight! Hashtag new heights, bruh! No seriously, I’m excited. Ever since me and Giani smacked Ben Jordan over the head with a double chair shot, people have been running their mouths about us. Subtweet much? The hate is real, but I can’t help being so extra. That’s like asking a wolf to not howl at the moon That’s like asking a fish to breathe under water.
Alexis: Fish do breathe under water, dumbass…
Dax: I wasn’t talking to you, Bill Nye the Science Guy! I mean, thanks for the tip. But yeah, people are responding. Maybe not in the best of ways, but they are responding. Most people are trying to tear me down, saying that I lose a lot. And when I bring up the fact that I only ever lost once, against someone who went on to become the World Heavyweight Champion. Fluke or not, he still won it. It’s not like I lose regularly, like some of these ass hats who run around here talking big. I’m the superior breed in Sin City Wrestling. I’m the new standard, even if people like Jamie Dean want to call me “not memorableâ€. They say my style is boring, but bitch I hit them highspots like a pro, and there is no denying that! Just because you will never, ever be as good as me, don’t mean that you can take it upon yourselves to tear me down, like I’m just supposed to sit there and take it. Like I told Jamie on Twitter, if being memorable means cutting your move set in half, and dry humping your opponents for a cheap pop, then I don’t want to be memorable. I’ll just settle for being great.
Alexis: That’s a laugh.
Me: I WAS TALKING TO THE OTHER ALEXIS!!!
Alexis stops and stares at me, almost as if she wants to laugh of my sudden outburst. I wink at her and she tries her best to hide her amusement. I look back to the camera, straightening out my oversized dress jacket I’m wearing.
Me: Look… this all comes down to a matter of who wants it most. Jamie Dean and Ben Jordan like being champions. Clearly they are fond of the belts, or else they wouldn’t have won a Battle Royal to get them around their waists. But, that’s only because Bad Boys weren’t allowed in the match. If we had been allowed, then you better believe that these thirsty fucking dogs would have cleaned house in a hurry. We would have been the last men standing in that ring, and those belts would have made it to our waists sooner. But, we settled for this road, because it’s better than getting shoved to the back of the line like some talents around here.
Alexis: Burn?
Me: Fucking… burn! But seriously, we were being pushed back further and further, until we did what we had to do, and we ran out to take the trash out before Blaze of Glory. We then went out and stomped out the former champions, and there was no denying that we had heart. We won the right to face the champs, but we had to give something extra so that people would want to see more. We had to make them want this match, right here on this ship on Sunday. We had to make people pay attention. So, we went out and slopped up the BJ…
Alexis pinches the bridge of her nose as she looks away from me and the camera, and I’m not sure, but she might have been embarrassed to be seen with me right now.
Alexis: Yeah, I am…
How did she read my mind? Jedi mind trick shit there.
Me: We gave the messiest BJ displayed inside of the ring, and we paid extra attention to Ben’s head, while Mickey took the beating up and down Jamie.
Alexis: Okay, that seems done on purpose.
Me: We Team BJ’ed Team BJ, and it was so glorious that Ben Jordan couldn’t show up at a show for three fuckin’ weeks, and Jamie was too embarrassed by it all that he only showed up because he was booked. Meanwhile, we showed up each and every week, ready to do work, son. We won a match somewhere in there, over Jamie Dean no less. Look, the truth is that we’ve destroyed Ben and Jamie at every turn. We can’t seem to run into them without knocking one of them the fuck out. So why does anyone think that it’s going to go any differently this match? Do you think that if you cheer on your heroes long enough, they’ll suddenly find a fucking clue, and wrestle coherently against us? Yeah, good luck. Between the two of them, they would be lucky to win a handicap match against one of us. The truth fucking hurts, but guess what? It’s still the fucking truth. That doesn’t change because you want to believe that the Bad Boys are a one hit wonder, because guess what? We just keep on hitting, and giving it balls deep to the competition.
I give a few good gyrating pumps to emphasize my point, giving my best “Fuck yeah†face as I do so. I lean forward in my chair, taking a sip from the glass of water before I stop pumping my crotch at the camera.
Me: So, go ahead and read your insults from bomb pop sticks, bruh. Go ahead and try to patronize me, Mickey, and Gi on social media, because we handle ours inside of the ring. Talk a little trash on Twitter, then show up to kick some fuckin’ ass at the shows, just to prove that our bite is as bad, if not worse, than our bite. Now that I’ve addressed the first problem with Jamie… being that he sucks and is a one note wrestler… let’s move along to Ben. Oh, Ben. We all know that you’re Saint Benjamin. I’ve already talked about how untrue that actually is, when we faced in the Blast From the Past tournament, when Amy Marshall got us knocked out of the tournament when I clearly had your number. Let me just go over the highlights.
I begin tapping a finger against the palm of my hand as I fire each one off.
Me: You’re selfish, letting your own best friend down, each and every time he took a bullet for you. You embarrassed him on televised SCW programming on a few occasions. You blew off your redheaded friend, and barely skated by to the finals of the tournament because your head was up in the clouds, thanks to all of your adoring friends inflating your fucking ego. The only reason you made it past me then is because of Amy. You are self absorbed. You are a shitty person who has to play the victim, and then hide away to see how long it takes for people to chase you down to kiss your ass. Then, in the case of Mickey, once he caught up, and had his lips puckered, you went and kicked him in the face… or the heart… or the face heart! All good, because he’s over you. He’s actually hoping that he gets to enter the match so that he can kick your fucking face in. And I’m half tempted to throw the qualifying contest just to make sure that he has the opportunity to do that.
I laugh as I lean back in my chair. I give it a second before I continue.
Me: You’re an awful person, Ben. If I’m smart enough to see that, just wait until people who are actually smart begin to see it. Maybe, once you don’t have a use for Jamie Dean any longer, then you will show your true colors. It will be much easier to see your yellow belly without the tag title around your waist. Bad Boys will be more than happy to go ahead and take it off of your hands, so that you can finally live as the person that you truly are. A cunting coward who leeches off of other people. You heard it here first, peeps! Live on the Armed Forces Network and scwrestling.net, you get to see Ben Jordan fall. The almighty Ben Jordan. To his knees… well, that was already seen a few weeks back. But, it’ll be great to see it again.
The tape is running out, so I have to cut it short. In true Bad Boys fashion, I flip the camera off as Ted begins checking on the glitch. I lean over and start talking to Alexis, away from earshot.