Author Topic: Dying Breed? No way! WAY!  (Read 325 times)

Offline Surf Boys

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Dying Breed? No way! WAY!
« on: October 07, 2016, 05:53:11 PM »
 The heavy rains, aided by the even heavier winds, pelted hard against the windows of the small coastal homestead shared by the most awesome of dudes, namely Narly and Radical, the Surf Boys. The weather was a gift from none other than Hurricane Matthew, a storm that was striking just off the coast of Florida, and had more than once caused the two dude bros to lose power in their 'sweet little shack.' Had they been able to venture out and travel, they theorized that these most mighty of winds would have provided them with some major epic of waves to ride. But that probably wasn't the best of ideas, was it?

Hey, they had a thought -- and a smart one to boot! Who knew!?

Which would explain why Radical had his face pressed up against the window, looking outside with a pitiful expression on his face, while an equally bored Narly used this moment of the electricity having come back on to peruse (big word, I know) the world wide web. If he couldn't surf, at least he could watch videos of those that could while listening to his tunes! Cha! yet he heard a little *ping* in his ear and looked around, swatting at the non-existent pest until he realized the noise for what it was: an email.

Dude! An email! Emails totally RAWK!

Sitting up, he opened the email and read the contents and his face lit up before he called out to his tag team partner and most awesome of amigos.

Narly: Dude!

Radical: What?

Narly: Dude!

Radical: What?

Narly: DUDE!

Radical: WHAT!?

Of course, the reason Narly had to raise his voice to be heard was because he himself couldn't hear his own words, or those of his buddy, because he had the speaker phones on over his ears. He reached up to gingerly remove them and gave Radical a goofy smile.

Narly: Forgot I had the silly things on. Anyway, check it out! We have a match! A return match if you will!

Radical walked around the small table littered with takeout Chinese and canned cocktail weenies to cast a look at the computer screen and his eyes widened.

Radical: Duuuuuuuude!

Narly: I know, right!? Dying Breed! Our old broskis!

Radical: The same dudes we won the SCW tag titles from?

Narly: The very same!

The two surfers turned to one another and knuckle bumped.

Radical: Whoa! I wonder how if anything's changed since we last saw them in the ring?

Narly peers closer at the screen, then sits back with wide eyes.

Narly: Whooooa! Well THAT'S certainly different!

Radical: What what what?

Radical then leaned in for a look at the updated info on their opponents and he shook his head, making that funny sound with his lips and cheeks.

Radical: Yup! That's different alright! Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Narly: Nothing at all! In fact, maybe we should offer to march at their sides in one of those parades when this weather clears up?

Radical: Yeeeeah! Nice thought bro, but we'll get back to that later. This bit of news calls for celebration!

Narly: You don't mean...?

Radical: I do! Root beer floats for all!

The two surfers jump up for a mid-air chest bump when the cord on Narly's headphones reaches their length and jerks him back down with an audible "GRK!" and he hits the floor! Radical stands over his pal...

Radical: Need some help?

Narly: No I'm enjoying myself down here!

Radical: Oh!

He nods with a smile.

Radical: Alright!

And he hurries off to the kitchen to make said floats while Narly's hand reaches into the air for 'the help' before slowly lowering back down.
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