The opening is delayed a bit as Jamie is soon seen opening the door to his apartment. He looks back to see Rage with what could only be construed as a smile upon his face, and Jamie’s heart sinks. It is too late to turn back now. Nothing good could come from Rage standing there in such a manner, mixed with the sound of Jamie’s fellow Dumbass University “classmates” laughing. In that split second, his face drops into a sort of frown as a bloody, raw cut of chicken comes down and smacks him across the face, and the KFC bucket soon tips over. This causes chicken blood to trickle down his hair and face. Jamie growls before he moves the slab of chicken aside, stepping out into the hallway where Rage gently sprinkles a handful of white feathers down on the top of Jamie’s head.
”Dude, seriously! Raw chicken is like breeding grounds for Sallynelly! Sally…NELLY!”
Rage tilts his head back for a hearty chuckle as Tommy “The Terror” Edmond comes running up, smacking him on the back with a laugh. He looks to his brother, Jamie, and gives him a playful shove.
”I think you’re seriously retarded, dude. Sallynelly? What the hell?”
Tommy laughs as Rage slowly steps forward, asserting his clear height advantage over Jamie. He pats the top of his head gently against his crimson stained strands of hair. Jamie frowns as he looks up into his dark eyes, clinching his jaw. Rage just shakes his head, daring Jamie to say something. When he doesn’t, Rage adds insult to injury.
”Top that… chicken shit.”
”If I get Sallynelly, then we are totally gonna lose our Tag Team Championships. When I’m shitting my brains out and dying and stuff, you’re gonna realize just how stupid that was, dude. Remember that *choke*”
Rage slowly wraps his hand around Jamie’s throat, and tilts his head to the side while Jamie chokes a bit on his own saliva. Rage watches Jamie’s eyes bulge out with the same sadistic grin on his face. He savors the moment.
”I’m going to beat the hell out of Sean Williams for what he did last week, with or without you, so these belts aren’t going anywhere. As far as shitting your brains out, I think you did that a while ago, kid…”
Jamie’s eyes bulge out as Rage slowly lowers him toward the ground. Unfortunately, he is a bit too late as Jamie swings his leg forward, catching Rage between the legs. His own eyes bulge out as he shakes in a mixture of anger and pain. Jamie leans against the wall for support as he tries to catch his breath.
”How was that for no brai…”
Rage steadies himself on the ground with one knee and one fist as he hauls back his free fist. He lands it right in Jamie’s crotch, dropping him to the ground. Behind them, the Dumbass University guys laugh, walking off together. Jamie’s eyes roll around a bit as he tries grunts in pain. He finally falls to the ground. As he does, he catches Rage one last time in the crotch, bringing them both down laying on the ground in the hallway of the apartment building. They both just give up, laying there for a minute.
”You’re such a little bastard, you know that? If I didn’t feel like my balls were in my chest, I would kill you.”
Rage gasps as he coughs a bit, Jamie wheezes, rolling around a bit, making an almost fish-like face. He lays a weak punch to the side of Rage’s arm before settling down on his back. He attempts to get up, but it is of no use, so he stays laying.
”You shouldn’t have dumped dead chicken on me, dude. I do a lot of crazy shit, but…”
”But nothing, you jackass. You can dish it but you can’t take it. Damned narcissist.”
”Nuh uh! I’m not a narsist. You’re more of a narsist than anyone I know. But you tag like a beast. I think I will keep you around for a while.”
Rage shakes his head at Jamie for a moment until the latter part of his statement. He slowly sits up, nodding his head in what appears to be an attempt at trying to agree with Jamie. He sighs as he gets up, offering Jamie a helpful hand to pull him up.
”As much as I hate you as a person, I have to say one thing. You tag like a “beast” too. I could beat those two by myself, but you make it look so easy, anyone could do it… Honestly, I think we will keep these belts for a while. You’re a better wrestler than anyone gives you credit for.”
Jamie smiles genuinely. He even blushes a little, kicking at the ground as if he were trying to play modest.
”Aww, shucks. I know I am, dude! I kick ass. I mean, seriously. Who is the only guy to get a pinfall victory over Blade Alexander? Hm? Hm? Me, that’s who. You’re lucky I think you’re, like, not a total douche. I…”
Rage smirks as he gets in a quick jab to Jamie’s crotch, sending him down to the ground once more. He dusts off his hands and starts to walk off. Shaking his head, he mutters under his breath.
”Sucker…”
Jamie rolls on the ground muttering many things that cause a steady stream of beeping. He grips his crotch, and with his free hand, he sends a one-fingered message to Rage that gets blurred out by the cameras, causing Rage to chuckle heartily as he walks off.
********************************************
The sound of screeching tires overtake the audio as you see cracks spread across the screen after a loud crash. Blood splatters across the screen and seeps through the cracks to drip down the screen as “Party Hard” by Andrew W.K. begins playing.
<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/dau1.png>
W/Special Guest…
<img src=http://www.tigon-designs.com/sigs/efedsigs/rage.jpg>
The voice of Jamie Staggs comes over the audio above the theme music.
”So I got Dick’d. It was bound to happen one of these days… Ladies and thirteen year old boys slash Tapout jerkoffs! Tonight you get a special look at the team roughly known as Raging Dicks, see what really goes on behind the scenes. Honestly, it’s not much different, but this dude is so f****n’ funny to mess with. Plus, you get an academy award winning performance by me, Jamie Staggs! WIN! Plus, a preview of “Chicken Nuggets”! Now for the legal…”
<marquee>DISCLAIMER*** The following impersonation is intended for entertainment purposes, and is in no way implied as fact. All SCW personalities used by name are in no way affiliated with the actual character unless otherwise noted in the credits. Now that’s enough of the legal junk. Enjoy!</marquee>
The scene opens up in a spacious loft, relatively empty short of a couch, coffee table, and a flat screen television mounted above the mantle. It is playing some sort of background noise, nothing important, but it breaks the silence. The whole scenario is playing in an existential sort of black and white, void of any color, emotion, or substance. Suddenly, the screen shifts over to catch Jamie Staggs walking in, wearing only a pair of tight white briefs, holding a Big Gulp, the logo blurred for copyright purposes. He reaches down the crotch of his underwear, and he pulls out his infamous bald cap, only this time, it is lightly sprayed with dark, even speckles to give off the impression of a buzz cut. He pulls it over his hair, tucking the excess underneath tightly. He sighs and looks around the room before coming over to the couch. He sets the cup down on the coffee table and then plops down on the couch, sighing again.
Suddenly, he pulls out a bottle of alcohol, aptly labeled “Alcohol”, and he pours it into the big gulp, emptying the entire content into the cup. He pulls out another bottle, marked “pop” and he adds a single splash to it, and then stirs the green straw, sighing once more. He frowns and then takes a small sip as he thinks to himself out loud.
”I feel so empty all the time. Except when Synn is in me. I have problems. Like those times that my uncle pimped me out… That closeted pervert… I like to blame all my problems on other people, because my therapist says it will stop me from having to grow up and face the world. I wonder if Jamie Staggs has a therapist that tells him the same things. Oh crap, I forgot to not mention my opponent specifically until at least the end of my promo. Damnit, Sean!”
“Sean” punches himself against the side of his head two times, before reaching over to grab a dutch piece sitting on the coffee table. He picks it up and puts his lighter to it, taking in a deep breath of smoke. He holds it in like a champ, but goes into a coughing frenzy as he exhales it. He thinks about another hit, but decides against it.
”I like to think that doing drugs in front of a camera makes others think I’m cool. Is it working? No? Oh well. At least I have a bunch of friends who come to see me every couple of years or so. I think it happens when they think their careers are dying because no one remembers them. Like my friend Mercedes. She is a fifty time world champion, sixty seven double platinum recording artist, fitness instructor at Club Fitness, boutique store owner, world renowned anything that I could think of at this point in time. She is everything… And I do mean everything. Sometimes I think I just add things to her resume just because I can, since the last time I… I mean JAMIE… saw her, she got her ass kicked by a rookie. That’s just embarrassing.”
Jamie laughs, slapping his knee as he leans forward. From out of the view of the camera, a voice screams “CUT!” Jamie looks over at the camera, ceasing his laughter for just a moment. A short, bald man comes into the camera’s view as color returns to the screen. Jamie widens his eyes, trying to act serious just long enough to get through the conversation with the director.
”Jamie, you said you wanted a serious scene here, but you are cracking up! Keep the vision in your mind. You are supposed to be projecting ‘Nightmare’ Sean Williams, the Hardcore Icon.”
Jamie loses it again, this time laughing like a lunatic. He falls back against the couch, kicking his legs in the air like a little girl. He tries to get up from his seat, but he just cannot contain his laughter. He takes deep breaths as he lifts himself up from the couch, just enough to look at the director. He is nearly asphyxiated by his own laughter.
”Shh… Sean… Wi… Will…eeee….um-ums. Harrrr…. Hardcore I…. Ico-hahahahahahaha! Oh my F**K I can’t even keep a straight face saying it, dude. Really? REALLY? Hardcore Ico-hahahaha!!! That kid doesn’t even know what hardcore is. He probably thinks it is when you smack someone from behind with a title belt, or swing a chair at someone. Hardcore ain’t for pretty boys, son. He doesn’t have a single scar on his neatly manicured little bony ass. He is so full of shit. No, seriously. My next moniker is going to be, wait for it… wait for it… Jamie Staggs, The King of Intellectualness. That oughta make the action figures fly off the shelf, right? Like, package it with some books and stuff. The only thing I’ve ever used a book for was to smack someone over the head with it…”
”ENOUGH! I have other important things to do. Let’s get back to it, shall we?”
”It’s your fault. I thought that was gonna be tobacco, not…”
BONG!!!
Everyone looks over to the clock on the wall that has just struck 4pm, and then they shrug their shoulders. Jamie nods his head as the director steps out of the cameras view once more. Jamie finally gains control over his laughter, and he straightens the bald cap again. The color fades from the screen, going back to black and white as he drains his face of any emotion.
”ACTION!”
One of the stagehands snaps the clap board before removing it quickly from the shot. Jamie sighs again and takes a drink from the big gulp cup. He sets it back down on the table and begins slowly flipping through channels on the TV, looking as if he is deep in thought again.
”I am such a mess with all of my dramatic things going on. My family is dysfunctional. I used to be a thug who turned into a wrestler. I used to do hardcore drugs, now I just smoke weed because I am stupid enough to not consider it a drug. I’m totally in control of it, too. I only smoke it when I cut promos. And when I go to the grocery store… and when I’m sitting in my apartment. Awww, shit, I do it twenty-four/seven. But it isn’t a problem.”
“Sean” sighs once more, looking around as if looking for an unexpected reminder of something he could have a flashback about. He notices an empty condom wrapper on the coffee table, but nothing. He looks over to the empty alcohol bottle sitting next to the ash tray, and still nothing. He looks over to a computer that magically appears in front of him, flashing a message, “E-mail from Synn”. It is no use. Nothing brings back a memory from his teenage years. Not even the blurred picture of his uncle taking money from a strange, nude man while Sean lays in the motel bed in the background.
I really need a flashback, because I enjoy torturing myself with them. Somehow I think they relate to my wrestling career. Idiots like that studly, irresistible Jamie Staggs just don’t know what they are talking about when they say it isn’t. I think wrestling is a soap opera, so it definitely relates.”
Just then, the sight of a plain, empty white wall brings everything rushing back. The screen goes wavy as “Sean” looks at his hand. He watches, mesmerized by the wavy effect, and the sound of a piano brings about a flashback.
”As I am laying in the strange motel room bed, feeling as if my parents finding out I was looking at gay porn is a worse than this somehow, I watched my uncle accept the money from this old, fat pervert before he pulls his clothes back on. He talks briefly with my uncle as I lay there, covered in shame. It is a terrible time. The man leaves, and my uncle hands me my jeans from the floor.
“But, I’m more comfortable walking around in my tight, exposing briefs, uncle.”
“You are disgusting.” he tells me. “All of you gays disgust me. Does it make me a bad person who might have a cover family only to hide the fact that I enjoy watching from the closet?”
“It doesn’t matter. One day, I’m going to load myself with drugs to the point that I think I am hardcore, and I’m going to become a wrestler. I might be an underwear model first, but I’m definitely going to become a wrestler.”
“Is it because you enjoy having hot, sweaty, buff guys flipping you in every which position? That’s hot, er, I mean… disgusting. Yeah, it’s completely disgusting.”
“No!” I said as I got up from under the sheets. I pulled my tight white briefs up, making sure my package is adequately aligned for maximum exposure. I stepped forward, sighing. I think sighing makes everything seem more dramatic. “I’m going to prove something to myself. I’m going to prove that I can fight. Not just men. I am going to fight < b>LIFE. I am going to fight with these demons that you have put in me, and I’m going to find a green-eyed, six foot seven beast who will comfort me. Then, I’m going to cause problems between his friends just because I lost to a dumbass and an overly angry guy. I will show you.”
He looked confused for a moment as he pats me on the shoulder. “You sound too much like some chick named Brooklyn. She has a lot of the same issues.”
“I don’t even know who that is, uncle! We are two different people, and I came first. There are distinct differences between our ‘future’ storylines. Way different.”
“Not really. I mean, you both sound almost the same with the pot smoking, and the screwed up teenage years. I’m almost convinced that she is you in a costume.”
“Nuh uh, uncle! She is more entertaining than I am. And she doesn’t sigh all the time. Plus, she played basketball. Basketball! I never did that.”
“Well, you are right. She is more interesting than you. You might want to step up your game.”
The wavy effect fades as “Sean” still looks at his hand. He sighs and then rolls his eyes as he warily looks from his hand to the television. There he sees a video playing of himself, dressed in drag as Mercedes, singing to a live crowd. He shakes his head.
”Gawd, I love that girl… So, are you guys gonna leave, because that’s all the material I have right now. Unless you want to stare at the innards of my tight white briefs fighting diligently to escape for ten minutes? Yes?”
“Sean” stands up from the couch and then places his hands firmly on his hips, flexing his chest out, and pushing his bulging piece out for the world to see, even though it is likely a rolled up sock. The camera slowly zooms in to a singular shot of this as the scene fades out…
***”We do what we like, and we like what we do! So, let’s get a party going (let’s get a party going) When it’s time to party, we will party hard! (Party Hard!)”***
A blue screen pops up as a loud beeping sound is heard. The beeping fades into loud electronic buzzes, similar to that which you would heard on the Emergency Broadcast System. After a few rounds of those, it goes back to a much shorter beep, followed by a scrolling message across the bottom of the screen.
<marquee bgcolor=blue>The following is not a test. I repeat, it is not a test. All viewers are urged to seek shelter immediately. A storm is coming. I repeat, a storm is coming.</marquee>
An electronic voice reads along with the scrolling message, until it ends. Then, it follows up with another message. “Mass destruction of one, Wyatt Peterson, and one Sean Williams is inevitable. The shit storm collectively known as Raging Dicks has been spotted in your back yard. I recommend you cowards keep on hiding if you want to live to see another day. I repeat, keep on hiding for your own safety. We will now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.”
The beeping is heard again as the screen quickly flashes the Sin City Wrestling logo across the screen.
Jamie Staggs: This has been a broadcast of the Emergency Broadcast System. This shit storm warning is sponsored by Dumbass University, which is brought to you by the GX Entertainment Group… Now, for more crazy antics.
A quick shot is seen of Kittie who is standing in the doorway of her apartment, a bag of groceries has been dropped on the ground in the puddle of chicken blood, as the smelly piece of chicken hangs in the doorway.
Kittie: JAYYYYYYMIEEEEEEEE!!!
The audio had been distorted, making Kittie’s voice a squeaky high pitch in a replay, fading to a slow, deep tone at the end. It fades out on a freeze frame of her angry face.
Static overtakes the screen, bringing us to the parking lot of Popeye’s Chicken. The parking lot is crowded with fans of chicken, and Jamie Staggs alike. There is a woman walking around with free samples, as we make our way over to a small stage set up with a podium in the dead center. The fans scream as “Party Hard” begins playing. “Xtreme” Alex Bernhardt dashes across the stage, stopping at the center of the stage, posing for the fans before running to the far left. Nate Starr runs up the steps, and once at center stage, he does a backflip, then he leaps down in the splits, punching at an imaginary person, a la Johnny Cage. He then dashes off next to Alex, as they lean down to sign a few autographs.
As the music progresses, Tommy “The Terror” Edmond struts to the center, crossing his arms over his chest, tilting his head down to stare at the audience from under his sunglasses. He throws his arms out to the side, and then does a slightly modified version of the Spinerooni before meeting his “classmates” off to the side. Metalhead jumps over the steps, and then headbangs on his way toward the center. He stomps around before letting out a primal scream while doing an air guitar. He looks around, holding his hand over his eyes as he looks around for Jamie. He shrugs his shoulders before meeting his team members off to the side. The music scratches a bit, before restarting.
Just then, someone in a big, yellow chicken suit pops up from behind the podium. They immediately grab the microphone from the podium, and they cluck into it, flapping their free arm. They pull back the beak a bit to reveal Jamie Staggs’ face.
”Cluck cluck mothercluckers! How are we all doing on this fine Sunday afternoon?”
The crowd of about fifty cheers loudly as Jamie holds the microphone out to them. He nods his head in approval before bringing the microphone back to his mouth.
”Alright, alright. You guys probably know this, but the free chicken isn’t really free. You are all being broadcast live on Dumbass University!”
Jamie waits for a cheap pop, but only about half of the crowd cheers. He looks around a bit surprised, and then he shrugs his shoulders again. He looks over to his classmates who try their best to rally the crowd.
”Okay then. I’m gonna get a cheap pop somehow… You guys watch Sin City Wrestling, via sc-wrestling.net or your local Vegas cable access network?”
This does the trick. The entire crowd goes nuts with cheers. Jamie nods in approval, with a smile spread across his face. He allows the cheering to die down a bit before he proceeds.
”Well, later tonight, your Sin City Wrestling TAGGG TEEEEEAM CHAMPIONS OF THE WERRRR… PACIFIC COAST REGIIIIONNNNN! Raging DICKS… Take on the lackbuster combination of Nightmare Sean Williams, and Hillbilly Willy, A.K.A. Wyatt Peterson.”
Jamie laughs as the cheering dies down to almost nothing. There is a light muffled chatter amongst the crowd, but very little cheering. He looks over to his classmates who all spout off their own bit of trash talk. Jamie nods his head and then looks back out into the crowd.
”Right? Who cares about a coward who attacks people from behind, who doesn’t have a single interesting thought rolling around in his fried little mind? Huh? Yeah, and who cares about a big bad rookie who hasn’t had but one win in his entire SCW career, and that one victory was thanks to my brother and Matt Ward! What kind of chance do they think they stand? I mean, I am more convincing, standing here in a damned chicken suit, trash talking, than either of them.”
Jamie stomps around, bobbing his head as the audience gives a mixed reaction of cheers and boos. He walks over to the edge of the stage, and leans down to a young kid who is screaming in joy at Jamie’s presence. Jamie leans down and gives him a fist bump. The kid turns around in excitement. Jamie leans back up, looking over the crowd again.
”Look at Wyatt Peterson. I mean, take a long, hard… heh I said long and hard… look at him. He stands at an impressive six feet, nine inches, and a lean two hundred and eighty-five pounds. This dude should be beasting this place. Instead, he is going to make it hard to make the Main Event look interesting. You got a roid raging sonuvabitch like Rage, teaming with an extreme daredevil of a wrestler… also pretty studly I might add. And then you’ve got a drama queen and a snooze fest of a man. The only way we will lose is if they put us to sleep the way they put the audience to sleep. Sorry Wyatt, Rage said I got you. I’m always up for a challenge, but I guess I will have to wait until our next tag team match, because Wyatt Peterson is not!”
Jamie looks out into the audience, who seems to be shifting a bit as they boo Jamie. He gasps as if he were offended, and then he drops his head in shame. His arms rest at his side as his classmates come over to him, giving him a pep talk. He nods his head and then looks back to the audience.
”I’m sorry. I know you guys enjoy watching Sean and Wyatt. The reason is lost on me, the same way that I can’t understand why Twilight is so popular. Are you guys fourteen year old girls, or are you hardened wrestling fans?”
Jamie listens as they all shout at him, coming back to his side a bit. He raises his hands in the air, raising the roof with his fluffy yellow wings.
”That’s what I thought! Now, I have given Sean Williams a lot of shit over the last month or so. I have said things like, ‘Sean Williams is a drama queen’ and ‘Sean Williams is like a boring male version of Brooklyn Carter’ HAWT! And I have given him trouble for relying on his sexual preference and his past to gain sympathy from the fans. I have said that he is like a lifetime movie. I have said that he is a tit, a wuss, a joke, and a sad, sad individual. That just glazes the surface of the things I have said about him. I guess that he thinks that he is proving himself by attacking my Tag Team Partner with his Tag Team Championship belt. I think he showed that he has some balls, but only because he knew what he was messing with when he did that. He pissed off an already pissed off giant. To me, that makes him a real dumbass!”
The audience pops at Jamie’s attempt at a pun. He walks next to the podium, leaning against it as he sighs.
”I know Rage is here today. He is the tall guy eating all the free chicken in the back, damned cheapskate.”
The camera pans out to catch Rage with a chicken leg in his hand. A big chunk is missing, and he does his best to hide it once he notices that the camera is on him. He scowls at Jamie, mouthing threats at him.
”Aww, come on buddy. I don’t get mad, I get even. But that won’t be right now. I actually have two presents for you. Come on up here, dude.”
Rage slowly makes his way through the crowd. He shoves a few people aside as he gets to the stairs. He glares at Jamie as he slowly walks up the ramp. Once on the stage, he almost stalks Jamie as he inches closer. Jamie shrugs his shoulders, and he pulls an envelope out of his pocket. He rips it open and reads from it.
”Buddy, ole pal. Revenge is sweet, and get it you shall. Your face is not warm and snuggly, shit you’re just downright fugly. But you get the job done, and messing around with you is fun. Tonight is the night, the night for a figh-at. You get your revenge on Sean, while I am stuck with Wyatt. We will beat their asses and make them fold, knock ‘em out cold, and keep our f*ckin’ gold! Now that’s what I’m talking about. I’m a poet, and I didn’t even know it!”
Jamie thinks about it for a minute, and then just smiles as Rage shakes his head. Jamie extends his wing, and Rage shakes it in a friendly showing. They raise their arms as if in victory, and then they lower them. Jamie tucks the envelope into his suit once again.
”Oh, but that isn’t all! I wanted to give you one more present. See, we are going to keep our tag belts, but throughout the night, I am going to give you a special gift. Unlike the asshole people think that I am, I wanted to give you a sneak peek at it. Metalhead, please bring up the gift?”
As if on cue, Metalhead brings a gift, wrapped in red paper with yellow polka dots, and a yellow bow to top it off. Jamie smiles as Metalhead holds the box out. Jamie blocks Rage’s hands from grabbing the box.
”Not so fast. Don’t I get a thank you for all my hard work preparing your gifts? Rudeness! I present to you, Chicken Nuggets!”
Jamie turns to Metalhead, and he gives him a swift kick to the crotch, flooring him. The audience laughs, as well as his classmates. Jamie stomps around, getting the crowd riled up as Rage looks confused.
”See, that was a preview. Tonight, I am going to catch up with you, and I AM going to kick you in the nuts. When I think you least expect it, BAM! Right in the jewels, son!”
Jamie drops the microphone as he looks down at Metalhead with a smile. Metalhead curses under his breath. “Party Hard” begins playing as Jamie brushes past Rage who simply shakes in anger. Jamie stops, and kicks toward Rage’s crotch in a fake out with a laugh, and a pat on his back as he exits the stage. The audience cheers and laughs at the scene that has just unfolded in front of them
***SCREEEEECH***
The tires screeching brings us to a short bit as the credits roll. The Dumbass University crew is sitting in the locker room before the start of Climax Control. Jamie is seen grinning as the sound of gas being released from one of them. He pulls a lighter from out of his pocket. Tommy tilts his head to the side in curiosity.
”What the heck is that thing for, bro?”
”We all got gas from the red beans and rice… We should… We should… light our farts!”
Jamie chokes on his laughter. The others groan at his immaturity, and then Nate Starr gives a response of “Fuckit!” He snatches the lighter from Jamie, and then rolls back on the bench. He pulls his legs up, and lights the lighter, waiting, as a small burst of flames sends the entire room into a frenzy of laughter.
”WEAK!”
Tommy grabs the lighter from Nate, and he bends over, his face straining. A fairly noisy expulsion accompanies the slightly bigger flame. Tommy raises his hands in the air to get a high five from Jamie and Metalhead. Just then, Rage bursts into the camera shot.
”What the hell are you shitheads doing? Oh you are not really… You guys are seriously lighting farts, huh? Very mature of you…”
Jamie snatches the lighter from Tommy and he leans over, pointing his bottom toward Rage, lighting the lighter before Rage quickly snatches it from him. He holds it in his fingers, a grimace spread from ear to ear.
”I can’t believe you guys. Every time I think I’ve seen the lowest, you surprise me with this crap. That is… Weak… SAUCE! Let me show you how a real man does it…”
Rage leans over, rubbing his hands together before positioning the lighter in the right position. He grunts as his eyes flare up. Jamie gives his signature goofy look at the “hidden” camera, then to Rage. The big boom sends a torrent into the flames, sending a large burst toward Alex’s pants. He drops to the ground, rolling, while laughing along with the rest of the crew. Rage drops the lighter in a show of pride before he spots the red light blinking from the camera. He lifts up a towel, and then he begins cursing as he rips the camera out, causing the screen to fade to static, then to black.
.::{FaDE}::.
