[Mark Ward]

 Post all roleplays here.
Limit: 1 per week per team, 5000 word limit.

Good luck!

[Dax Beckett]

 <img src=https://68.media.tumblr.com/33d7dd99f53dccb515df141b328e9a1e/tumblr_nbgnyfgZEz1tgdc1do1_500.gif>


Quiet on the SET!
#NP "Like a Bitch” by Zomboy
Locale: Yer gonna figure it out soon enough, mate...
Storyteller: Mickey Carroll


I gotta admit, I was rather looking forward to stepping out of the car when we pulled up to the warehouse building, but the New Jersey air was thick with the smell of pollution and Drakkar Noir.  Sort of like Giani after he eats onions, I suppose.  After spending so much time with ‘im and Dax back in Las Vegas, or crammed in a hotel room, I’ve become more accustomed to their disgusting aromas.  This was just a bit too much for me liking.  Like a thousand Giani’s crowded around me…

So, needless to say, as I stepped inside of the building, I was surprised that it wasn’t quite as manky as I ‘ad expected it to be.  It looks like an actual business, with white everywhere, and a receptionist with black hair and glasses.  She looks up at us, and a smile creeps across her face as she folds her hands together, and it’s clear that she’s very happy to see us.  However, before she can speak, the postman steps in front of us, carrying a box in ‘is hands.  The secretary stands up from her chair, and her skirt is probably a bit shorter than is work appropriate, so nothing quite rings a bell.

Postman:  Hey there, pretty lady.  I’ve got a package for you.

Secretary:  Yes, I bet you do… it looks so big, too… mmmm…

The postman firmly holds the box in front of himself as the secretary gently pulls it open, as I lean over and whisper to Dax.

Me:  What kinda blarmy git sends a package without taping it shut?  It’s like… oh…

As she opens the box, she gasps as she reaches inside and begins fidgeting around with something under the styrofoam packing peanuts as the postman begins moaning quite loudly as the postman leans over and grabs Giani by the shirt and begins making out with him as ‘e shoves the man away and prepares to beat ‘is arse with ‘is mallet-like fists.  The postman reaches forward and grabs me bat, and not the one I normally carry around at SCW shows, either.  The secretary falls to her knees as a dodgy, sweaty bald man steps from behind a wall and shouts at us.

Man:  CUT!  What the fuck are these three bozos doin’ on the set?  The ginger one can stay because he’s packing, but the other two gotta fuck off!

Me:  Thanks, but piss of yerself, mate.  I don’t swing that…

Dax:  Baby, I’m not going to be offended if you want to earn a little extra cash here.

Amy:  Glad you guys could finally make it.  We’ve only been waiting to start for an hour.

We turn to see Amy Marshall standing in the doorway, where we finally see that we’ve walked onto a set.  I guess me cheeks turn a bit of a crimson color as the postman snaps his fingers and winks at me and Giani, raising ‘is ‘and to ‘is ears to tell us to ring ‘im.  Dax walks up to Ames and folds ‘is arms over ‘is chest.  Amy ‘as a grin from ear to ear as she grabs onto ‘is ‘and and guides ‘im through the different sets.  This place is full of different themes.  A Star Whores, an underwater/Women with Crabs, Arabian Knockers, The Flaccidstones, Poke-a-Hot-Ass, Buttman and Throbbin’... wait, why are we stopping?  In the name of all that is holy, why are we stopping ‘ere?

Amy:  Here we are.  Dax, your costume is waiting over there.

Dax:  Why isn’t in a dressing room?

Amy:  No, Brice Payne is a millionaire nudist playboy, so part of the scene is him and Throbbin’ suiting up together.

Dax stomps ‘is feet on the ground angrily as Amy only smiles in return.  I can’t lie, as much as I dislike Amy Marshall, I’m eating this up almost as much as she is.  He goes on this long rant which I ‘ave no desire to rehash, because it just makes me “husband” look more like a git than I’d like to admit.  Amy is quite a bit more polite than I would be, because she lets ‘im air ‘is complaints all the way through, and no matter how much ‘e gets in ‘er face, her smile only gets that much bigger.  Once ‘e’s done, she chuckles and looks up at ‘im.

Amy:  Okay, are you done?  You said you were going to “do one of my movies”.  You’re always going on about how you’re such a big star, so I figured you would love to be the star of this film.

Then, some big guy walks into the room, some clean cut plonker wearing a robe and a smirk.  I mean, the bloke was cut.  No, not cut, ‘e is shredded.  The guy walks in front of the camera and lets the robe drop to the ground.  â€˜e stands there and pulls out a tobacco pipe, holding it as if ‘e were the one playing Buttman.

Bloke:  Finally, Throbbin’ is here so that we can get this rolling.

Just then, the fake night sky lights up with the Bat symbol… except in place of a bat, it is an arse.  I’m not jokin’ either… A white circle darkened out with each arse cheek and a crack straight down the middle.  Dax reluctantly begins unbuttoning ‘is shirt while trying hard to stall.

Dax:  So, if I’m Buttman… is this… the porn version of… Riddler?

Amy:  Dax, this is Buttman, and he’s going to teach you a few things.

Dax:  You mean to tell me that you’re not Throbbin’?

Amy:  No.  I’m S’Catwoman.

Dax:  OH FUCK THAT!

Dax begins buttoning ‘is shirt back up quickly as ‘e walks backwards in a hurry.  Amy grabs onto ‘is arm and drags ‘im back several paces.

Amy:  Relax, I’m not shitting on you.  See, S’Catwoman is only going to drill your tight little hole with a strapon until you go unconscious.  Then, Buttman is going to come in for the save, only to get attacked by Wang-uin, Two-Piece, and Poker with Whore-ly Quinn, also played by me.  Now quiet, because Buttman is about to begin…

The lights dim down as Dax lowers ‘is voice to argue more with Ames.  I can’t here anything else, but I don’t need to when Buttman ‘as such an epic beginning monologue.

Buttman:  I just had the most wonderful night with Selina Sidesmile.  The things she can do with her mouth…  Damn… But I can’t shake the feeling that Sidesmile is trying to hide something from me, other than my junk.  When I was balls deep in her, she just didn’t act like she was too thrilled about taking all ten inches…

Alfred Peen:  Master Brice.  I was just alerted of the Butt signal coming from the southern quadrant of Dick’em City.

Alfred is literally a Sean Connery looking bloke wearing a thong and a bowtie collar, carrying a platter with tea and crumpets on it…  Ye can’t even make this shite up, mate!  I try to keep it low, but I clap my hands together and look over to Giani with a huge smile on me face.  Just then, Dax is seen standing naked with ‘is backside blowin’ in the wind.  Amy shoves him onto the set as he falls on all fours.  He stands up and dusts ‘imself off as ‘e turns back to face “Master Brice”.

Throbbin’:  Golly JizzswigglersHoly Buttplugs, Buttman.  Dick’em City just got over the Salty Seaman Gang flooding the streets, and now this?  Something smells… fishy…

Buttman:  Ha ha ha… that is why you are my sidekick with the puns… and the buns…

*SMACK!*

Buttman grabs a ‘andful of Dax’s arse and I nearly fall on the floor.  Okay, not nearly.  I actually did.  I begin rolling around on the ground, kicking as I try to control me’self.  Amy widens her eyes at me as she raises a finger to her lips.  The more I try, the more I let out the signature wheeze of a heavy smoker.

Buttman:  Something tells me that the Poker is up to his usual shenanigans at the Acme Blowup Doll factory.  Go ahead of me, and recon the situation.  I’ll be right behind you.  Just, try not to crash the Throbbin’ Rocket into my Buttmobile again.  We left such a mess the last time.  Ha ha…

Director:  Aaaand cut!  Scene two…. Action!

Dax has on a cape that comes just above a pair of arseless skivs, with a limp rocket attached to ‘is crotch.  â€˜e walks through a really sketchy lookin’ alleyway, as a can rolls across the ground.  He stops and looks all around ‘im.

Throbbin’:  Holy Jizzswigglers… this alley sure is scary.  It’s the perfect place for an ambush attack with that suspiciously raised tarp surrounded by random trash cans…  Luckily, that’s not the case…

S’Catwoman:  Lucky left the Buttcave hours ago, Throbbin’...

Throbbin’:  *Exaggerated gasp*  Holy Cock n’ Balls!  It’s S’Catwoman!  Buttman!

S’Catwoman:  I know you are smuggling the jewels in your hot and hairy pucker, Throbbin’.  I’m afraid I’m going to have to knock you out and get them back, the only way I know how…

This is the part where even I can’t comment on what’s going on.  Well, I could, but I’d rather see how much money Dax can make on this, so I’m just going to let ye imagine what’s going on ‘ere.  To give ye a pretty good idea, there’s a lot of things going into Dax’s arse… and I do mean a lot…

Giani:  Aw, bro!  That ain’t even natural.  How does it open up so far?

Me:  Perhaps our dearest husband ‘as not been entirely honest with us, as it doesn’t appear to be ‘is first time around the block.

Throbbin’:  Holy drips, S’Catwoman. Oh, shit…

S’Catwoman:  Throbbin’, you’ve surprised me.  I found something up here, but it isn’t the jewels.  It appears to be your cherry.

She says it so seriously too.  I can’t get over it, honestly.  Me face is bright fuckin’ red right now, and I’m crying.  I can’t tell ye if it’s from my complete lack of understanding of how a buttarang is sex toy can also double as a fully functioning boomerang, or how it landed perfectly in Dax’s brown eye as it did, but kudos to the director for that one.

Throbbin’:  Curses, S’Catwoman.  You’re going down!

S’Catwoman:  I’m afraid the time for going down has passed, but maybe if you ask me nicely, I’ll let you.

Me:  I can’t… I can’t… Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, this is too much.

Giani:  Bro… I’m tempted to go to the grocery store right now and stock up on frozen peas, cause kid’s gonna need them for an entire week… Oh… make that two…

Dax continues squealing like a stuck pig as Amy somehow stops from gloating, staying perfectly in character like a professional.  Just then, some large man waddles onto the set, with a long nose that somehow resembles a penis, and a Danny DeVeto cackle that let’s us know this is Wang-uin.  Next, some guy with green hair, and a very long, uncomfortable lookin’ staff walks up in a green pouch thong that ‘as a spring-loaded set of bangers and mash bobbing up and down.

Me:  This must be The Poker, or maybe it’s The Piddler?

Giani:  Naw, if he was The Piddler, wouldn’t he be wearin’ a bowlers cap?  It just seems obvious that ‘e’s The Poker.

“Piddle me this, Throbbin’.  What has a long neck, with much girth at the bottom, and a head that stretches up into the sky when excited?”

Throbbin’:  Edward Smegma!

Piddler:  Oh?  Sorry Throbbin’.  That’s not the right answer, but I’m feeling quite charitable today.  And please, don’t say a giraffe?

He says it.  Dax actually says a giraffe, and ‘e pays the price at the ‘ands of the Piddler.  I actually cringe as Dax claws his way across the ground and ‘e grabs onto me boots and looks up at me with tears in ‘is eyes.  It’s hard to take it serious with a man working out ‘is rusty ring, and the boner printed Robin style cape clinging to ‘is sweaty back though.

Dax:  Please?  Puh-puh...lease?  Help me?

Me:  Ames, me client ‘as a problem with the script that we need to talk about.

Director:  CUT!

Amy:  Goddamnit, Mickey!  We were in the middle of the money shot take!

Me:  Was that before Wang-uin Eskimo Kisses me husband’s chocolate starfish, or after Edward Smegma rocket launches ‘im right in ‘is brown eyed willy?

Wang-uin walks right past Dax, and rubs at ‘is nose as ‘e gives ‘is arse a nice firm smack before leaning down to tongue ‘im.

Wang-uin:  Great job out there, Dax.  Thanks for trimming… I hate sneezing into someone’s crack.  It just feels weird.

Giani:  You trim your hedge, Dax?

Dax:  I DO IT FOR YOU TWO!  Do I ever get a fuckin’ thanks?!  FUCK NO!

Amy:  Just cut out Mickey’s bitching, and we’ll print that scene.  Buttman and Throbbin’ is complete.

Dax breathes a sigh of relief as ‘e crawls up me leg, hugging onto it as ‘e sucks ‘is thumb, rocking back and forth.  I reach down and rub his hair as if he were a child who just found a monster under ‘is bed.  Amy smiles as she walks closer to Dax.

Amy:  Do you need a break before the next scene is shot, Dax?  Or are you all warmed up?

Giani:  Whoa, whoa!  Hold ya freakin’ horses, Marshall…  Ya just said that Buttman and Throbbin’ is done, so what’s the next scene?

Amy:  Dax said he wanted to star in his own movie, right?  Apparently there is a huge audience for tattooed tool boys being humiliated, so he’s going to have his very own DB collection.

Dax:  For Dax Beckett?

Amy:  Or for Douche Bag, but I like your enthusiasm.  Go get a couple ice packs, and get ready for the next scene.

Dax can’t even speak as Amy walks off.  He tries to protest it, but ‘e just can’t get the words out.  Instead, ‘e just screams and kicks at things.  I gotta give it to ‘im… ‘e took it like a real champ, because I guarantee that if it were me, I couldn’t lift me legs that high.  I must say, I’m a lucky man to call ‘im me own… *wink*



<img src=http://www.youtraumatizedmeronnie.com/gifs/singleronnie04.gif>


Time Out
#NP "Ride” by Twenty-One Pilots
Locale: The Mean Streets of Jersey
Storyteller: Giani Di Luca


I ain’t gonna sit here and tawk like I don’t love bein’ part of this tag team and partnership, cause it couldn’t be further from the truth.  I’m ride or die for my hus-bros.  I just had to take a second to collect my thoughts, and stand out as an individual.  So, I set my cell phone up on the mount I had installed from the time I was on that one hit reality television show, Fuhgeddaboudit.  What I got to say, I gotta say on my own.

With that in mind, I close the door of my 2017 Cadillac Escalade as I bring my shades down over my eyes and rest em on my nose.  I take a deep breath as I stick the keys in the ignition and turn the car on.  I sit there for a second as I collect my thoughts, yaknowhatimsayin’?  Finally I let that deep breath out as I put the car in drive, goin’ along the roads of Seaside Heights.  I check my hair and lips in the rearview mirror, and it’s right, so I decide to start tawkin’.

Me:  Fawwwwwwwwk… It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  I know none of ya forgot about Giani Di Luca, the King of Kings, the Italian Stallion, the Reflection of Perfection, and SCW’s resident Bad Boy.  I’m ya best World Heavyweight Champion, legendary World Tag Team Champ, and former Roulette Champion until Christian Underwood robbed me, J2H, and JR of it.  If I had to place a bet, I did so much for SCW that I’ll probably wind up in the Hall of Fame Class of 2017.  Just a guess.  We might not be in Vegas right now, but place ya bets on this Stallion.  Now, I don’t need to rattle on about bein’ probably the best star to ever step into the six-sided circle, cause ya already know ya boy, GDL, got it.  As in, all of it.

I wink, even though most people can’t see cause of the sunglasses, but I did it.  I’m a bit more modest these days, but ya can’t argue success, right?  I brush a stray eyebrow hair back into place before I continue tawkin’.

Me:  Much like the greats of Sin City Wrestlin’s history, like Spike Staggs and… well, no one gives an actual fuck ‘bout no one else, so we’ll just leave it at that… I decided that I did all I can do for myself.  I decided it was time to pass on all the knowledge I learned over the last few years.  Bro… I soaked that shit up like a fawkin’ sponge!  Five years in the business, and I’m awlready a legend.  Go ahead, name a Hall of Famer, and if they a male, I beat their ass.  The last two World Heavyweight Champs?  Beat em.  Hard…  The match people still tawk about to this day is my match with Goth for the World Heavy.  I won that too.  I can work by myself, but I can also work as a team, if my teammates are worth a shit.  Ahhhh, now the point is comin’ across.  I got you.

I pause for a second as I turn down the next street, makin’ my way closer to the New Jersey Boardwalk.  It ain’t poppin’ just yet, cause we’re about 3 weeks early, so the gorilla juiceheads ain’t out in full force, and they ain’t got their tanks and board shorts on.  Don’t worry though… I got you.

Me:  Me and Mickey never really worked much together in the past.  He was just some goofy drunk dude that walked around backstage downing bottles of Guinness and flipping people awf.  He was just this total jackass.  Our paths crossed when we was in the New X-Tremes, but even then, we hardly even said a word to each other.  He thought I was some over-hyped piece of Jersey trash, and I thought he was a slackin’ ass motherfucking piece of Eurotrash.  Now, only the last part is true.  Nah, seriously though.  I sat back and watched this dawg fight, and he had skills.  He just didn’t have the drive to go anywhere with them.  He was always walkin’ around with the wrong crowds, like the ones who stepped over him and used him up.  The skill was there, but that’s it.  Enter me, tryin’ to do a favor for Veronica by playin’ along with this half-assed Mean Girls reunion tour with a six week gimmick of throwin’ up them middle fingers.  I mean, Mickey was the first person I thought of for this little project.  He just needed some guidance to go in the right direction.  We rocked it, and we was the tawk of the fan boards.  But what happened next is what put the Bad Boys as SCW’s Must See Stable…

I laugh, cause I didn’t even expect this next part to ever happen.

Me:  We started messin’ wit’ this little punk named Dax Beckett, Daxton Oliver Beckett if you nasty.  Kid was too fun to fuck wit’.  I mean, everythin’ we tossed his way, he threw right back at us.  Even when Xander Bishop came on board, none of us expected him to come up to us in the locker room.  We was ready to throw down, yaknowhatimsayin’?  We was gonna make sure he didn’t make it to see the next week.  He was all pumped up, that skinny hairy chest poundin’ with intensity as he walked up to us.  Kid had some serious bawls, though, cause he pointed right at me, looked me dead in the eyes, and said, “I want in, bruh.”  Of course, I made a joke about gettin’ it in, cause he’s a little bitch, but he didn’t even flinch.  He just repeated himself.  The more we got to tawkin’, the more I saw that he just wanted to be taken serious for once.  Step number one to makin’ that a reality is to make ‘em respect you, or at least fear ya enough to pretend to respect you.  I didn’t realize he had such a mouth on him though.  He popped off even louder than Xander Bishop, and Bishop got suspended for his fuckin’ mouth.  Just had to educate the kid a bit on how to make himself sound like he’s… not a complete dumbass I guess?  Then, Mickey showed him the movie SLC Punk, so ya can thank Mickey for that one.  Pre-Bad Boys Dax is night and day compared to the Dax ya see today, awl cause me and Mickey taught him what he needed to learn in this business to get taken serious.

I stop for a second.  I don’t mind givin’ props to people who deserve it.  I actually like tellin’ someone they done a good fuckin’ job.  I just don’t get to do it very often cause SCW is full of tools and self-entitled talentless hacks who can’t honestly cut it, and are only looked at as good cause Bad Boys ain’t in singles action.  But, now comes the point of this confession tape.

Me:  I trained Dax to spit on the mic, and shit on his opponents in a way that, win or lose, they gonna remember who the hell gave ‘em that splittin’ headache for days to come.  I’m a Dax fan.  Hell, I married the guy, so maybe I’m partial, but his record speaks for itself.  However… and this is important to remember… my record also speaks for itself.  All the new faces who don’t remember me, think of me as some background noise in the Dax and Mickey Twitter Knob Job Show, or the guy in the background who is along for the ride.  Nevah once in my career have I evah… evah… stood by and let someone carry me.  I been in some pretty shitty situations.  I been given lemons, and I squeezed them fuckers and made lemonade right in my opponent’s eyebawls.  J2H wasn’t always the rockin’ World Champion stud that he is today.  Once, he was just a clueless kid who thought money could buy him anythin’ he wanted.  Turns out, ya can pay Giani Di Luca to have ya back, and he’ll do it just for the fawkin’ fun of it, bro.  I ain’t gonna say I did it awl on my own, but it was obvious that I was the muscle and the talent that he used to hide behind.  He picked the fights, and I finished ‘em.  Give and take, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.  But, just remember that even he put me out on the front line, the star of the show.  I’m sittin’ pretty in the background cause I choose to show off the talent that I helped create.  It sure as fawk ain’t cause I don’t got no talent, dawg.  I assure ya of that.  That Stampeeeeeeeeeeeed though!

I take my hands off the wheel for a minute to do my signature Stampede dance, windin’ it up as I steer wit’ my knee, swervin’ a little bit.  I lean forward as I mimic it, and then the roar of the audience afterward.  I take the wheel back and continue.

Me:  If showtime comes, and we decide for Mickey and Dax to wrestle, just know that I’m more than capable of doin’ it.  Don’t call me washed up.  Don’t call me an afterthawt, cause that would be the worst mistake evah.  Don’t complain that ya wasn’t prepared, Eyesnsane and Jon Dough.  It didn’t work for Rage, so it damn sure won’t work for ya.  All it’s gonna do is make ya look like a couple of asses.

I smirk for a second as a thought pops into my head.  I look right up at the camera on my phone to show off my smile.  It gets a lil toothy, cause I know that they know what’s comin’ their way here any second now, and I’m finally gonna be charitable and give in.

Me:  History is a funny thin’.  We all have history that we may or may not be proud of.  I’m proud of my history in the New X-Tremes.  As fawked up as Mickey was back in the day, I’m even proud to be associated with him in wrestling, and now in life.  My ginger pubed snuggie bear, as I like to cawl him.  Ben Jordan, Misty, Steve Ramone, Vixen, Spike Staggs, Jamie Staggs, I guess kinda Jessie Salco too, cause it shows that I had true patience back then to put up with her bullshit… but one name comes to mind that I can’t say I have respect for.  Jon Dough.  The man who perpetually bends over to get fucked over.  Bro… Bro!  Gettin’ screwed over by those ya trust is one thin’, but after the fifth time, wouldn’t ya think someone would get the hint that trust shouldn’t be so easily given?  I mean, I get that ya was found wit’ ya head busted open, and ya can’t remember who ya actually are, but this?  Goddamn, go rent Momento or somethin’, bro.  That struggle is real.  One time, I asked the kid if he had the twenty bucks he borrowed from me.  He gave it to me.  Turned around twenty minutes later, and did the same thin’ over again.  It got to the point where Mickey and Jamie was takin’ bets on how long I could keep it up.  Not really, but it was a cool story, bro.  He’s a few screws short, and quite honestly, he was a sittin’ duck in all of this.

I laugh out loud as I remember runnin’ out to the ring with Mickey and Dax and just shittin’ all over the match that was goin’ on.

Me:  Nah, Dax awlready made this personal when he tawked about movie plowin’ Eyesnsane’s wifey.  I don’t need to drill on and on to get under ya skin.  I just had to bring up a little history lesson for Jonnie boy.  The truth of the matter is that we got tired of watchin’ the same old bullshit match of The Elders Versus Dmitri and Tuscini for the umpteenth fawkin’ time.  The tag division is ours, and it has been for months.  We just did what everyone else does around here, and we made a statement.  Loud and motha-fuckin’ clear, dawg.  We said we was done playin’ the waitin’ game, cause it’s our time now.  Bad Boys are the Tag Team Kingpins, and it’s about time people start takin’ notice.  This is ours, and we let ya play in our yard.  Don’t mistake that for bein’ somethin’ more than ya are.  That goes out to The Elders, Dying Breed… heh, once Garcy returns from his concussion we gave ‘em… Sweete Dreams or whatevah, Unholy Alliance, Surf Boys, The Monstimals… or even Team BJ.  This match wit’ The Elders is nothin’ but a formality.  No animosity on our end.  It was just a wrong place, wrong time kinda situation.  The big dawgs had to stake our claim to the yard, and it just happened to be on you four.  I’m sure ya won’t see it that way, but that’s on you.  This is strictly business for me.  Though I am gonna miss those #MRM tags fa’real.  This match is awl about goin’ through the motions to make what should always have been obvious.  Don’t worry though.  You’ll still be recognized in the Footnotes of Bad Boys ascension to greatness.  We got our eyes on Team BJ, though.  Ya not even on our radar.  No one is, but that gold is.  Let’s get ready to make this shit official.  Next Sunday, the fight will be on, everyone who thinks Bad Boys is a fawkin’ joke is gonna get a rude wake up call, cause rude is our game, bro.

I am ready to turn this shit awf as I roll back up to the family condo.  I park my Escalade in front as Mickey and Dax come runnin’ out at me.  I roll my eyes.

Me:  Ben and Jamie… why don’t ya start polishin’ up dem belts for us, tu stronzate senza valore.  I want them to look good when we take ‘em to get ya name plates chipped awf so the rightful owners can put theirs on.

I get outta the car as I shut the door behind me.  Mickey comes up to me first as he points his two fingers at his head like a gun.

Mickey:  Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell, mate… Ye didn’t tell me that yer family was blarmy.  It’s literally seven insane ye’s runnin’ around in there, talking about Italian wedding traditions.

Dax:  The bright side is that your mom said that she’s known for years that you were… Ya know...

Dax clicks his teeth and nods his head with a shitty lookin’ smile on his face.  I give him a good shove as I shake my head.  With everything else goin’ on, my family wants to throw us a weddin’ next weekend.  I guess if it helps get Nick Taylor off our fawkin’ backs, I’m good with it.  Gives us more time to focus on gettin’ our names where it belongs, I guess.  I go ahead and suck it all up as I walk up the driveway, lightin’ up a cigarette as I go, cause if I didn’t smoke before...

[fin]

Word Count:  5000

[Mickey Carroll]

 <img src=https://secure.static.tumblr.com/a3c052a088d83a91aa7a1f2e2184186e/3h5ci7a/flMnlp5xo/tumblr_static_tumblr_static_7w7ul23qqqsk0g4cocosw8o88_640.gif>

Family Affairs (Pt 3: The Big Day)
#NP "The Cure” by Lady Gaga
Locale: Jersey Shore Boardwalk; Seaside Heights, New Jersey
Storyteller: Dax Beckett


Bruh… I never thought that this could be so nerve racking.  I’ve had the dry mouth, sweating profusely, inability to control my voice going in and out, the shakes, the pukes, and the shits.  Though, I’ve heard the last part is common with what I went through last week at 3-X Productions…  Yeah, so anyway, this is my second “Big Day” even though the first one I was so blackout drunk that I didn’t even remember it.  This one, we’re not allowed to have a drop of alcohol, because that douche bag, Nicholas Taylor is in attendance today, and Giani thinks that if he sees it, he’s going to cry foul play, even though we already have the fuckin’ marriage certificate.  Considering the deal is legally sealed, why the fuck am I so nervous about this?  Could it have something to do with Giani’s one thousand, breeding like jackrabbits Roman Catholic family coming up to me and crying and hugging and slapping my fucking shoulders, or saying stuff in Italian that I don’t even understand?  Or Mickey’s mom who is equally as scary?  Something is just not setting well.  I stand looking in the mirror set up to the side along the boardwalk as the wind waves my hair as I take a deep breath.  Mickey’s mom comes up to me for the millionth time as she throws her hands in the air before wrapping them around me.

Marianna:  Ragazzo dolce, sei bello!  Oh, you have a spot on-a ya face!

She leans in and licks her finger before rubbing the spot around and I slowly raise my cheek up, squinting one eye as I shrivel up to try to get this woman’s arms from around me.  I wasn’t used to being coddled like this, so it’s just a bit much for me.

Marianna:  Even-a with the tattoos, you are such a handsome boy.  My Giani is so lucky.  If only we coulda had-a the ceremony in a church…

“Marianna, we already discussed this…”

I completely tense up as my eyes go wide as fuck.  I probably go white as a ghost too as I think to myself “No fucking way…”  I try to move, but I’m frozen in place as I watch the blonde woman walk up to me, placing her hands on my shoulders, over the short Mrs. Di Luca.

Me:  Shannon…

Shannon:  Our boys won’t get married in some stuffy, rustic church where their entire love will be under question.  There’s nothing wrong with this, isn’t that right, Poopy?

Me:  And she said it…

My mom butts in as she steps in front of me, her blue eyes sparkling from the reflection of the water, and her teeth nearly blind me as she fusses with my tie.  I close my eyes and sigh loudly as I hope that when I open them, she just winds up being a freak out hallucination.  Not so. As a matter of fact, she triples when I open them.

Shannon:  Oh, honey, it’s not too late to shave that lumberjack beard.

Piper:  Well, I think it’s hot.  Plus, it hides his hideous face a little bit.

Me:  Yeah, fuck you too, sis.

Melvin:  Ugh, if only I didn’t have a job that made me shave, I’d grow a beard just like him.

My dad continues straightening my tie as my mom messes with my beard.  Piper stands behind me with a huge grin on her face, watching mom and dad pretending to be “those parents” who coddle their children, even though we both know they aren’t.

Me:  What the actual fuck is wrong with this tie where everyone feels like they need to fix it!  It’s fine!  Fuck!

Shannon:  Even though it is your choice to use those words, and it’s far beyond me to limit your first amendment, do you think you could try to be a little bit more publicly appropriate?

Melvin:  Geez, sweetums.  Do you have to discipline him like he’s a child?  On his wedding day?

Shannon:  Mel, please.  I’m still his mother, and he’s my non-gender specific offspring.  Is that still politically correct, Piper?

I clinch my fists together as I shake them off of me.  Piper chuckles as I reach into my jeans pocket sitting on the dressing table, and I pull out a cigarette and lighter.  I begin smoking as I lean on the wooden boardwalk guard, watching the yacht that this whole thing is taking place on as it comes onto the dock.

Me:  Who the fuck invited you guys, anyway?  I surely didn’t think you would care enough to be here for my second wedding.

Shannon:  My non-cisgender child has been married before?  And I’m only now hearing about it?

Me:  Yeah, I married a Japanese guy and moved overseas for two whole years.  I don’t remember any of it, either.  I swore I’d never marry another man again.

Melvin:  I am so proud of you for living out loud, and following your heart.  You know, I once blew a guy in college and it changed my life.

Me and Piper turn and look at our father as he reminisces and I can’t help but get the pukes again, right into the water.  Piper rolls her eyes as dad takes the cigarette from my fingers, checking to make sure there was no splash, before he takes a drag.

Melvin:  Love is a beautiful thing, and I’ve always thought you could love more than one person with all of your heart.  I couldn’t be more proud of you, son.

Shannon:  I couldn’t agree more with your father.  I’m so happy that I could set you free to follow your own path, only for us to come back together on this extra special day.

Piper:  At least the food smells good.  Giani’s mom can definitely cook.

My mom and dad wrap their arms around me as Piper rolls her eyes.  She takes a step closer and barely gets in line with the camera’s view.  My parents snap a selfie, because they are such cool, modern parents, right?  FML…  They kiss my cheeks, and then walk off as Piper steps closer to me.  We’ve never been very close siblings, so I don’t have anything really to say to her as she leans on the same railing as me.  She looks out into the water as the wind blows through her hair, saying nothing, and it makes me nervous.

Me:  Do you have a reason for being here?

Piper:  My brother is getting married?  Plus, Shan and Mel guilted me into coming, so…

Me:  No… we’ve never gotten along the best.  We’re not the supportive kind of “non-cisgender siblings” that give pep talks, so I’m confused why you’re interrupting my time to collect myself.

Piper shrugs her shoulders as she continues not to talk.  It’s obvious that she has something to say, but she’s not coming out with it.  I turn and look at her as my eyebrows tighten and lower.  She chuckles as she knows where I’m going with this.

Piper:  I just wanted to let you know… that I can’t wait until this shit show comes crashing down on you, Dax.  All the lies, and all the deceit?  It’s going to catch up with you, but you’re going to wind up stuck with that Irish prick and that meathead for at least two years.  Now is your time to run, baby brother…

Me:  And what if I told you that I fucking love Mickey?  What if I told you that I wished this was real?  What if I said that I don’t know anything about being gay, because I didn’t want to be “that guy” whose parents actually hoped for an LGBT child so that they could pretend to be so progressive and modern?  What if I said that Mickey and I could probably be happy together for real?

Piper was just trying to get me worked up like we always did to each other growing up.  It was our sick way of trying to make each other stronger.  She didn’t expect me to spew that kind of bullshit at her.  But, somewhere deep down, I kind of feel like it’s not all bullshit…

Piper:  Then you’re dumber than even I thought you were, Daxton.  Your marriage is so obviously fake, and I think you know that.  But, let’s play this little game and say that you’re being genuine.  You fall tragically in love with one or both of these guys.  They don’t love you back.  I’ve never met two more hetero men in my life.  Your soulmate, male or female, could be out there right now, but you’ll miss your chance because of this fake marriage and all of the poking around that immigration is doing.  It would be so much better for you, if you walked away right now.

Me:  You don’t know a fucking thing about me, Pipes.  This changes nothing.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready to get married here.

Piper:  We might not be supportive out loud, but we have been there for each other until you ran away a few years ago.  We just had our own way of doing it.  But, if you don’t want to see that I’m trying to throw you a lifeline?  That’s your choice, Dax.  Just remember that you had one.

Piper nods her head as she shrugs her shoulders.  She walks off down the boardwalk and toward the dock leading to the yacht.  I watch her disappear as her words continue to buzz around in my head.  I pull a handkerchief from the pocket of my tuxedo, and I sit into the water before wiping my mouth clean from my father’s attempt at calming me down.  I soon follow behind her as I walk down the dock, lined with flowers and white lace flowing in the wind.  My heart begins to beat up into my throat as I make it half way down.  All of Giani’s family, Mickey’s few relatives, and my family can be seen as I walk up to the veil in front of the entrance to the yacht.  I take a deep breath as Nicholas Taylor watches from a distance, scorn in his eyes.  Thankfully, two of Giani’s large Italian cousins give him the hint that he’s not welcomed here, and leads him away roughly.  This eases me some, until I see a couple of familiar faces that I wasn’t expecting to see… A reminder of the life that I only vaguely remember.  My former niece, Tatsu Watanabe, and her friend Tora.  Instantly, I begin shaking as my mother grabs onto my arm.

Shannon:  Sweetie, they’re waiting on you.  It’s time to go…

If it wasn’t for my mom walking me through the veil, I think I would have been frozen in place.  I can barely hear anything but the ringing in my ears, and the soft sound of “The Cure” by Lady Gaga.  Not my choice, but I guess it works.  However, as I walk by Tatsu and Tora, the ringing becomes deafening.  Tatsu smirks as she waves gently at me, but there’s not exactly the best of intentions here.  However, Tora waves excitedly and so sweetly as she usually does.  I turn and look forward, tuning everyone and everything out, other than what is waiting for me up at the altar.  Standing in front of a beautifully built arch lined with white roses and blue carnations, dressed in the same black and blue tuxedo as me, is Giani and Mickey.  I can’t help but feel the tears start to roll down my cheek for some unknown reason as I get closer and closer.  Shannon reaches up and wipes at my cheek gently, and I can only assume that she starts to cry also.  She leaves me at the steps and I somehow find my way up them, even though it feels like the boat is capsizing.  I catch my breath as I step forward, to have Giani adjust the flower thingy that dudes wear.  I turn to Mickey, and he fixes my FUCKING tie…  But I can’t help smiling about it.  He nods at me as we stand before the Justice of the Peace, with my mom, Giani’s mom, and Mickey’s mom standing at the steps, weeping together.  I can’t even hear the JoP as he goes on, and I feel frozen in place.  It isn’t until it comes time for me to say my vows that I clear up for a second.

Me:  Oh, um… I didn’t write anything, because I didn’t want to say some rehearsed, tired lines about my feelings for Mickey and Giani.  Well… we’re always there for each other.  Since the day we realized what we had, we’ve had each other’s backs… and not just the backside either.

I pause for laughs, but there are none, well, other than Mickey.  I shrug my shoulders as I turn to face him, and partially Giani as well.

Me:  You two make me a better person.  We’ve weathered through some real shit storms, and I don’t think I coulda made it without either of you.  I’m so… so lucky to be bros with you for life.  You’re not just my husbands on paper, but you’re my best friends that I don’t think I could live without.  I love you both…

I cry.  Like, real tears.  I meant it.  Piper doesn’t know shit, because this is all I really need.  My crew, and we’re going to be together for a really, really long time.  Mickey pats my shoulder as Giani wraps his arms around me.  I bury my face in his tux, and say out loud.

Me:  I fucking love you guys!

The loud Italian family begins shouting in approval, while the women bawl their eyes out.  I finally step away from my boys and take my mark again.

JoP:  Today, Giani Cristiano Di Luca, Michael Eamon Carroll, and Daxton Oliver Beckett have professed their undying love and commitment to one another, through the thickest, and thinnest of times, before you all.  It is by the power vested in me that I now pronounce these three unified in the sanctity of marriage.  You may now seal it with a kiss.

I look to Giani as he leans in and pretends to kiss Mickey.  He follows it up by staying an inch away from my face as he pretends to kiss me.  He nods and looks over to Mickey, and I lean in for a fake kiss… except something in me pushes me just an inch closer, as our lips meet, and I feel something like I’ve never felt before.  I can’t seem to stop myself as I grab onto the back of his head, and he opens his eyes, glaring at me as I keep going, and he follows the motions.  The crowd roars loudly with approval for this as I finally take the hint and let go.  Mickey stares at me uncomfortably as he tries to stop himself from wiping at his mouth.  Giani steps between us and grabs our hands, raising them up in the air as he whispers to me.

Giani:  What the fuck, bro?  Ya didn’t hafta shove ya tongue down his throat…

Mickey glares over at me as he tries to keep playing up the act, even though I can tell that he’s pissed off beyond belief.  I try not to look at him, so I just keep my eyes on the ground as we begin to walk down the steps.  All the hugs, and all the support that we’re getting, and I’ve never felt more alone than I do right now.  Piper looks up from her seat as if to tell me “I told you so…”  I nod at her to let her know that she’s totally right before we get dragged to the reception where I can’t wait to drown all this out.


<img src=https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/21/8a/be/218abe7bd640cfd5522a17b131d58d71.jpg>


Family Affairs (Pt 4: The Reception)
#NP "Party Monster” by Krewella
Locale: Yacht on the Atlantic
Storyteller: Dax Beckett


Several drinks into this fuckin’ thing, and I still wish I could just jump overboard.  We’re out in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and we’ve got so many people on board.  I do my best to avoid Tatsu and Tora, along with Piper, because I’ve got no interest in anything they’ve got to say.  However, Tatsu is not one to get pushed off for too long, and eventually, she slides through the field of grenades and gorilla juiceheads to find me, blending in as best I can with my lack of rhythm.  It doesn’t stop me from trying.  However, she grabs onto my arm and drags me off the floor, where the music isn’t quite so loud.  She tries her best to access the English language, though she hasn’t had much of a chance to use it, coming from Japan.

Tatsu:  How… you say?  Rude of you not come say hi to me an’ Tora.  We fly from Tokyo for your wedding day, come support you an all we have from you is disrespehhhhct… Many disappointment, Uncle Dax.

Me:  Yeah, first off.  Not your uncle.  We’re like almost the same age.  B… I wasn’t actually married to your uncle, because I don’t even remember anything other than training with him and fighting in whatever promotion he stuck me in.

Tatsu:  Don’yew think I know dat?  I’m not stupid, uncle.  I’m smart girl with many knowledge of boys.  My uncle is… pervert.  New husband with more tattoo and bigger beard already he has.

Me:  Better beard?  I call bullshit on that…

Tatsu:  Nooooo… Better is not said.  Bigger not always better.  I miss our hangs, and I look much forward seeing America.  This Sin City Wrestling very, very popular in Japan.  Tora and me think to look for work here, and I think maybe Uncle Dax can help us?

Me:  Yeah, right… They fuckin’ hate me there.  They only let me wrestle because I’m phenomenal and I draw mad heat.  They…

Mickey:  Excuse me…

Tatsu stomps her foot angrily as she begins yelling at Mickey in her native tongue.  He doesn’t pay any attention to her, but I’m just waiting for him to let me have it, one way or another.  Now, I’m wishing I would have hid better from him, because Tatsu doesn’t seem so bad by comparison.  He shoves me into a room, and my heart begins pounding.  Something is about to become physical, whether its fight, or…

Mickey:  Giani’s been keeping me behaving, but he’s drinking with Gino and Lou, so no one’s gonna save yer arse… Wait, before ye get any idears…

Me:  Seriously?  Nicky was watching us from shore. What was I supposed to do?  He wasn’t going to buy what you two were selling.  I…

Mickey:  Save it!  I got a girl, you got a girl, and Gi’s got a girl.  If ye don’t want to ‘ave a girl anymore, I support it.  But this marriage is what we all agreed upon last month.  It’s nothin’ more than to keep me in the country for me job.  I love ye like a brother, but not more than that.  Are we crystal fuckin’ clear, mate?

I pause for a minute because I’m not exactly sure how to react.  Part of me is relieved that he didn’t wig out on me and try to start a fight, while the other half feels sad because I’d hoped that he felt the same way as I did.  But, I know deep down that this is how it was supposed to be from the get go.  I nod my head and laugh as I playfully smack his arm.

Me:  Bruh… you’re not all that.  Get over yourself, man.  We got a party to go enjoy…

I continue to chuckle as I walk out of the room, leaving Mickey standing there, feeling like just as much of an ass as I do.  It’s time to up my drinking game and get FUCKING lit.  Drown it all out in some top shelf Gentleman’s Jack!



<img src=http://68.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l84ln1YhOc1qb0osvo1_500.gif>


Family Affairs (Pt 5: The Honeymoon)
#NP "Drunken Lullabies” by Flogging Molly
Locale: Yacht on the Atlantic Ocean
Storyteller: Mickey Carroll


What a long, fucked up kinda day we ‘ad ‘round ‘ere.  Proper mad.  The wedding, the party, and now Dax ‘aving partied ‘imself into a real mess.  Each one gets a little bit more blarmy as it goes along.  The wedding was probably the nicest event I ever been to in me entire life.  If I was the one in the audience, watching, I’d ‘ave asked if these blokes were serious with it.  But, it was nice, and at one point, I even thought I might ‘ave a cry over it.  Then, we shared our vows with a bunch of made up nonsense that made people cry, and for a second, I almost felt disgusted by Giani fer ‘avin’ the stones to lie in front of ‘is entire family like that.  I could hardly look at me mum during it, but Giani was solid in ‘is performance.  Maybe ‘e should’ve been the one to play in All That Glitters.  Maybe then it would’ve been an actual box office smash.

Then comes the party, where I ‘ad the strange idear that Dax was takin’ this much further than necessary.  Maybe seeing ‘im in Buttman and Throbbin’ last week ‘as gotten in me ‘ead.  But come on, he took the Buttarang right in ‘is ham flower like a proper champ.  Not only did ‘e whimper like a bitch in a way that was like beggin’ fer more, but ‘e even backed up on it.  It’s whatever.  Some straight guys enjoy a woman playing with their prison purse, so who the ‘ell am I to judge?  Dax then insulted me, and said what everyone else says, that I’m just some ugly Irish troll going about ‘is merry way with a tattooed Adonis, and… well, an actual Adonis.  Kinda stung me pride, but much like any other time someone tries to break me, I just dust it off and move along.  Though, this time, me temper could’ve proper pissed Dax off, blowing this whole thing out of me control.  I ‘ad to make sure I handled it with care from now on, because if he thinks I think we’re boner buddies, then it gets truly weird.

But now, this child is tossing ‘is cookies all over the boat as the guests are trying to sleep for the night.  He’s being loud and obnoxious, even for me liking.  Giani is ‘avin’ a cigar with ‘is mates on the deck and just letting Dax make a complete arse of ‘imself.  I feel like I owe ‘im one after how I handled the situation earlier.  I guide ‘im back to our master suite, not expecting to see it in red satin sheets, and strange sex toys and swings and slings, like Fifty Shades of Fuck Me Life.  It makes so much more sense once I see a gift tag that reads “From Christian Underwood, You’ve been a huge pain in my ass, so I thought I would return the favor.  Best wishes xoxo”.  Bloody ‘ell…

Dax stumbles over toward the closet, probably thinkin’ it’s the lou, and ‘e is about to chuck when I drag ‘im over to the actual toilet.  I hold ‘is hair back as ‘e upchucks more than I thought ‘is stomach could possibly hold.  He grabs onto me tie and wipes at ‘is mouth as ‘e falls into me.

Dax:  You always have my back, bruh.  I don’t know what I’d do without you…

I pull ‘im over to the bed and lie ‘im down, only fer ‘im to drag me down to the bed too.  I try to get off of ‘im, but ‘e keeps hold of me arm.  I roll over to the side of ‘im as ‘e curls into me.  As much of a prat as I can be, I feel like I can’t just leave ‘im there.  I squirm a bit as ‘e holds onto me chest, and it feels like ‘e’s whimpering a bit.  Fuck me sideways…

Me:  Dax, would ye mind if I…

Dax:  I know it’s not real, but I just need it to be for a few minutes.  I just wanna go home…

He buries ‘is face in me chest and places me ‘and on his ‘ead.  I raise an eyebrow as I stroke ‘is hair gently.  He moans before letting out a disgusting belch, even for a guy.  I turn me ‘ead and shake it off as I wait for the smell to disappear.  I look down at ‘im and realize that ‘e’s missing something in ‘is life.  Something’s not right, and I feel genuine concern for me mate.  Perhaps it’s the idear that the tag titles would be nice to hold once more, but I start to thinkin’ about how ‘e needs them in ‘is life as much as I feel like I do.

No one else would’ve attacked ‘is second best mates if the stakes weren’t so high.  For reasons I never understood, Dax ‘as always ‘ad an affinity for The Elders.  Maybe it’s because they were the first group that accepted ‘im as an equal, while everyone else treated ‘im like a rookie.  It’s admirable, but it’s also gullible.  Dax ‘ad this regret about doing what ‘e did to Eyesnsane and Jon Dough, costing them the match against Unholy Alliance.  Luckily for ‘im, me and Giani were there to equalize it, giving The Elders one more chance at the belts.  I mean, if ye wanna call it a chance, since they gotta go through us first.  Part of me doesn’t want Dax to fight, because I think ‘e’ll hold back.  The other part wants to see if ‘e’s got it in ‘im to do what he’s gotta do to make it to the next level. ‘E’s got a fire in ‘im that burns so intensely, but something like that could very well make the fire take over and burn ‘im right to ‘is boots.  As much as I’ve been dying for those tag titles to finally find their place around me waist, I don’t want to cost ‘im ‘is soul like that.  Me and Giani, it’s already too late.  Dax could still go somewhere, on ‘is own even.  His future is bright.

But, ‘e’s said many times that ‘e has no interest in seeing the same old song and dance going on in the tag division.  E said that it’s time fer a shake up, and ‘e’s completely right about that.  We can’t let The Elders go back to those belts.  We can’t let anyone take those belts, because no one can represent them the way that Bad Boys could.  No one’s got the bollocks to do what needs to be done to make people take tag teams seriously.  Much like we’ve taken the attention for ourselves, we need to take the attention and put it on the division we’re ‘ere to reconstruct.  Unholy Alliance and The Elders can’t do that, and… sorry to say it, Benny me boy, but neither can Team BJ.  The Elders ‘ave skills.  I won’t say that they don’t.  But they don’t ‘ave the blarneys to do what needs to be done.  They proved it the entire time they were the champs before.  And Team BJ ‘as taken any small amount of respect that The Elders ‘ave brought to tag team wrestling in SCW, and they’ve shat all over it.  Now, Bad Boys got a big mess to come in and clean up.

The Bad Boys ‘ave always been the future of SCW’s Tag Team Division.  We show up each and every week to work, and we go above and beyond the call of duty.  We got tired of getting ignored, so we stepped up to get this plan set in motion.  It’s our time now, and in just one week’s time, Bad Boys are gonna prove all of the doubters wrong.

In the meantime, I gotta find the best way to shake Dax off me arm.  â€˜E’s become just a tad too comfortable with it.  Any time I move, or even try to organize me thoughts, ‘e’s moaning and crying like a needy bird.  I roll me eyes and just accept it, finding it oddly comforting to comfort me mate.  I just continue to try to avoid the sight of the slings and swings, and things that I can’t tell whether they are modern art vases, or unique lookin’ butt plugs.  I just look down and study Dax’s ink on ‘is bare chest.  Soon enough, I get the sudden urge to call Mercedes from me phone.  Reaching in, I dial her number.

Me:  Ye wanted to talk, luv?  Well, let's talk...  Anything ye want to ask, I'll answer honestly...  Yeah, I'm alone... well, kinda.  Dax is passed out nearby, but I promise I can talk to ye privately.  Yeah?  I guess it would be better to talk in person... I know I wasn't very open the other night, but if ye can give me a minute er two on Sunday, I'll explain everything.  Just... Yeah, that sounds mint.  Good luck, luv...

I hang up the phone as I look up at the ceiling.  I've got a lot to think about, and the tag titles are just one of many things.  But, it's the best distraction I could 'ave possibly asked for at this time... and, Dax is drooling on me arm now... It's gonna be a long fuckin' night on the ocean, and Dax done drank the last of the alcohol.  Fuck me...

Word Count:  4975