Post by inkt on Mar 20, 2013 14:11:02 GMT -6
"Those cold cockin mother fuckin sons of bitches. Jesus christ! My jaw hurts like a son of a bitch. Oh, and then listening to that fuckin traitor go on the air and continue to flap his fuckin mouth. Seriously, some one needs to put a dick between those lips or something."
Inkt begins to go on and on as he and pugh sit in their hotel room trying to figure out what the next plan of action might be. Pugh, sadly, was torn between two of his life long friends. The only difference was, Inkt would understand Pugh's decision one way or the other. Johnny on the other hand, would go all out war commando on Inkt and tonz of fun like a fuckin child that didn't get a toy at the store when his white trash mamma found out that food stamps are actually for food. That shit right there is about as fitting a statement as it could get when it comes down to it. Johnny stylez. Child. Selfish. Cock Sucker.
"Relax Inkt, we did what we set out to do."
"We? Or you? Cause if you set out to lose to jesse, uh, good job? Although, that begs the question, did you actually lose to him? Or is this what i need to be looking for down the road when it comes time for you to choose sides next week? Did you just give the fans and myself a taste of what it'd be like? Pugh ridin with the enemy and shit? Don't get me wrong hoss, I'd be up for the challenge to take you and the rest of those fuckin elitist pricks on, but shit dude, i figured you'd be better then that."
Pugh shoots inkt a look of, 'strike one,' with that, inkt shuts up on the subject all together.
"You're one to talk man, did you at least get a punch in when those two were workin ya over?"
"I might have, I'm not too sure, I was too busy watching you drool all over yourself, ya fuckin down."
The two of them match eyes for a second, and continue the stare down until a knock at the door breaks the silence..
"Inkt? You in there?"
The muffled voice of Al Envy quietly penetrated the room. Inkt stands up and walks to the door, backwards, continuing the stare down with pugh. Reaching behind himself, he fiddles with the handle, and finally manages to bring it down allowing Al Envy entrance.
"Al."
"Uh, why am I talking to your back."
"Im in the middle of something right now, Al. Don't make any sudden movements."
Al slips in behind inkt, and then notices pugh on the bed, eyes locked on inkt.
"Jesus christ, it's like two damn cats fixin to dance. Is there something I can help out with?"
"actually al, now that you mention it, to the left there, you'll find my suitcase. In one of the smaller netted zipped compartments, there's a pair of dirty drawers. Ineed you to... STAY RIGHT THE FUCK THERE PUGH!-"
Pugh had situated himself a bit more on the edge of the bed as he had begun to lean down and pick something up off of the floor. Upon hearing inkt's raised voice, he froze if only for a moment.
"Relax, Inkt. Just gettin a magazine."
"LIAR! Al, Netted compartment in my suitcase. Dirty Drawers. NOW!"
Just then, Pugh began to stand, while Inkt began to show signs of hesitation. Their eyes still locked on one another, and thn Inkt felt within his outstretched hand. The warm cottony goodness of his workout shorts. (Made famous by coach inkt about a year or so ago) A grin came to his lips as Inkt slowly started to remove his current shorts, and slide on the yellow shorts. A grin came to his face, as to his delight, Al was staring at him, jaw damn near on the floor. Pugh, however couldn't break the stare down. Not this time, not any time.
"Dude! Those make your bulge look fuckin' huuge!"
Al's voice is what broke the contest. Pugh, if ever so slightly, looked down, and noticed Inkt's bulge. Hoping that Inkt didn't notice pugh noticing him noticing pugh noticing his bulge.
"I FUCKIN KNEW IT! YOU LOOVE THE COCK! I win!"
"Win what? We was fixin to fight. "
"We were? Well shit, had I known that, I would'a just johnny styles cold cocked ya in the face. Heh, cold cock."
Pugh shakes his head, and begins to ready himself to leave.
"Look, it'd seem ya'll made plans and shit, so im just gonna go on ahead and get outta here. Good luck this week, man."
"Where the fuck you think you're goin?"
"Out, Inkt. Christ man, you ain't my keeper. I don't need to check in with you every got damn time i do somethin. This ain't no live action twitter or some shit."
Pugh shakes his head and takes out his cell to emphasize what he was talkin about. Basically to put it into inktanese.
"Boop, 1:00 -Right now, Im makin microwave pop corn. Yum!! Boop, 1:05 Burnt the popcorn, frowny face, I guess i'll have to try again. Boop 1:30 Now i've got the popcorn shits... Boop 2:00 Fell asleep on the toilet, I hope Inkt isn't worried about me. Boop, 2:05 8 missed calls from Inkt wondering what I'm doing. Get a clue man..."
"Damn, that was kind of a dick move."
Pugh slides his phone back into his pocket and smiles over to envy.
"See, that's the thing man. You team with Inkt, you gotta put him in check every now and again. When push comes to shove, sometimes, he thrives on it and becomes more hostile. When he's more hostile, he's more volitile, when he's more volitile, he's harder to predict. Is that a good thing to do mid week, like i just did? Probably not, cause now that shit's on your hands. Is it a good thing to do Monday morning, or whatever day he happens to be fighting? You damn right. Keep that shit in mind, and god only knows what that crazy fuckin bulldog'll do."
Inkt stands there in place, stewing.
"Fuck you pugh. Fuck you right in the hairy brown eye. Yup. Right there. I hope when Emily's finga poppin ya assho, that she doesn't clip her nails, and she catches the fleshy tender part of the brown eye with it, and causes you to bleed. You know what part im talkin about too, don't play it off that im just talkin for the sake of talkin. Im talking about the part that burns during your morning shit after mexican food and beer. You know what the hell i mean."
"Jesus inkt, that shit's fucked up right there man. How the hell do you two even co exist in life? I mean i've seen you guys go through all sorts of adventures and stuff like that, but i mean hell, man, what i've just seen here, i dont understand how you can be one of the most successful tag teams ever."
"Al. This ain't nothin, man."
Pugh smiles and looks over to Al as he speaks.
"This shit's light, ya know? Yeah, we bicker back and fourth. Always have, always will. But what it all boils down to is, we've got no secrets. We put that shit all out there on the table. Now is there some shit that I wish I could take back? You damn right. I wish I had never known about Inkt doin porn. I wish i never tried to hold that over his head, cause now, Al? Now this mother fucker, -and i say that out of love, but this fuckin guy, he won't shut the fuck up about it. Hell, there's been nights, or mornings, or however you wanna look at it, that this fuckin dude, will ramble in his sleep about cock. Ya know? Once you hear that shit, you can't unhear it. Cause you now what that means, Al? He's dreamin about the cock."
Inkt shakes his head and sighs.
"That was one time, One fuckin time that i meantioned cock in my sleep, and you know something, you should be fuckin flattered. You and Johnny both for that matter. It's few and far between that i relive that fuckin porn in my head, but i guess with the right combination of booze and stuff, I dream about it. Although, I always thought J would have a bigger dick then what he did in my dream. But then again, I guess you could compare him to a fancy car."
"What?"
"What?"
Al and Pugh both instantly regretted asking Inkt the question as soon as he opened his mouth.
"Alright, im about to educate you on something. Johnny styles. All he does is talk shit. All he does is make little fuckin deals and associations to better himself, right?"
"Fact."
"Common knowledge"
"Right, so what's the main reason dudes buy fancy cars?"
Both al and pugh know the answer, yet say nothing due to the fact that they had both purched some pretty hefty priced vehicles.
"Give up? Well, check this shit. Okay, so dudes buy fancy ass cars to quote un quote compensate for havin a little dick, yeah? Alright, follow me now, cause this is where it gets thick. Yeah I know this is gonna end up with me talkin about johnny's dick, but that just gets me back to the dream i had anyways. So, you got a fancy ass car, little dick. Chicks love the speed, the power, the overall looks of a guy who drives a nice ass car. Suddenly, she can overlook his baby dick shit."
"Dude, you have a bus."
"I know, my dick's tiny. But this isn't about me right now. Focus, Al."
"So, we all know that johnny can't drive for shit, right? That means no nice cars for him, cause essentially, he can't get insured im sure. So, with that not in the cards for him, he needs something to compensate for having a small dick, AND not being able to drive a nice car. Soooo, what's he do?"
"What?"
"He shits on literally anything and everything around him so he can put himsel up on a pedestal to feel better about himself. This isn't about the whole Johnny v. Inkt... Or whatever, this is abou the simple fact that, I got the pin at wwx. I get chance at gold. PLUS! Al and I already have gold right now. How much gold does that blue haired cocksucker have? ZERO! No nice car for his bitch ass. Nothin. Baby dick is still intact. Truth be told, as long as he doesn't have gold? He's got no fuckin play in this company. Zero. The dude's an amped up pair of clown shoes. Yeah, ooo, he's got a shovel that his little fuckin parrot made for him, that's clever, but let me ask you this, what color is the shovel?"
Pugh nods to himself seeing some sort of connection.
"Gold. I didn't need you guys to really answer that anyways.I got this. So, yeah, now he's got something shiny. That's cool, but still, driving a fuckin tricked out street racer isn't the same as driving a lambo or some shit like that. While they may... Nah, no, they don't come close to costing the same, but still, while both turn heads, which car is gonna make a lasting impression? The lambo. Why? Cause it's got the kind of prestige that can't really be touched by any of the other cars. I suppose since he's got no belt right now, his prestige level is shit. Absolute shit. Cool with me, but Al and I, we've got the tag belts. While they may not be the lambo of New Edge, they sure as fuck aren't the tricked out honda civic that he and hunter's shovels are....hmmm, kinda got off the whole dick tangeant didn't i?"
"Shit dude, that's fine by me, bud. That actually made a lot of sense. So, what you're trying to say is, that Johnny is a gold whore?"
"That's exactly what im trying to say. It doesn't matter what belt it is, he just wants it. He wants them all. Not to make them worth a damn, but to make himself feel better. I guess he's the kind of guy that's like, well, shit, if i have some power (the belts) Maybe then people will respect me and what I do. When really, it doesn't matter how many belts you've had, it doesn't matter what you've done with them, because in then end, you're just a selfish fuckin prick lookin out for one man and one man only. Johnny fucking stylez. Shocker there, I know, but let's face the facts here, hoss, while you may preach, 'no shit.' and spout of stuff like 'i dont care about the fans' and stupid shit like that? Guess what, the fans don't give a shit about you either hoss. But there's more. The fuck do you need the fans for, right? Cause you have the styles mafia, and jesse, and the big bad monster hazard, and the rest of those fuckin dumb asses? Well, yeah, you need the fans almost as badly as jesse needs the fans. The fans fill the fuckin arena. In order to do that... Here we go, basic economics for ya, try and keep up.. In order to do that, they need to pay for their tickets. I know not everything in modern day society can thrive off of social anarchy like it does in your own little world, but anyways, back to what I was saying. The fans, they pay for the tickets. The tickets in turn pay for the venue, the overhead, all that other shit. You know, like, hmmmm.... Ah, yeah, paying the talent. Now, as much as I hate to say it, you are considered talented, man. You've done your fair share and then some. But haven't you ever stopped to wonder why no one gives a fuck that you come and go with the wind when it comes to this company? Have you ever realized that, there's no big to dos about, 'OMG JOHNNY'S BACK FROM REHAB AGAIN! WE'RE SAVED!' Yeah, that's cause no one gives a fuck. You're grand fathered into this fuckin business based on your last name. Based on who's cock you've ridden the.... "
Inkt pauses and looks around to find an empty room. Al and Pugh had left a couple of minutes ago. Just then, Inkt could hear his phone vibrate on the top of his dresser. There was a text message from Al on it. As Inkt picked up the phone and read, a small smile came to his lips.
"Cool promo bro, but we've got better things to do then listen to you ramble on about pointless shit. Meet us down at the hotel bar when you realize you've been talking to yourself for the last several minutes. -Show Stealer."
Inkt shook his head and smiled.
"Son of a bitch, i was cuttin a promo wasn't i? Kinda got caught up in the moment or some shit like that. Who knows. i guess i went a little..."
cRAyZAY!!!!!
Gathering his things, Inkt changed into some clothing that was a bit more socially acceptable. Walking out the door, he locked up, offered a smile, and continued on down to the hotel bar. The elevator, as usual, seemed to be running slow. Inkt could only stand there, and wait with proerbial finger in ass. The muzak playing through the speakers was the Kenny G version of Here comes the boom, or some shit like that. The hotel wanted to seem like it had a chance at gaining New Edge's business everytime they were in town. While it was a clever move, it was still fuckin elevator music.
"Jesus christ, there's still hunter to worry about too."
The doors opened, and instantly, Inkt could hear the voice of Al and Pugh echoing through out the hotel lobby. Their tones almost as though they had never lost a step since the forming of the cRu back in the day. That, in and of itself brought a smile to inkt's lips. Outside of the ring, with some people, it didn't matter who they were, what they did, or how they came to be known. If they were legit, they were legit. Plus, Pugh and Al were legends in the business, they had seen it all. Plain an simple. Inkt, for the most part, was fortunate enough to be under their guidance. He had learned a lot of shit from the New Edge Vets. In a few short weeks, it would be his time to show the world, just what he had learned, and how he planned to give back to them. What had johnny every done for anyone? Nothing. Hunter? Well, if johnny didn't give anything back, why in the fuck would his little clone, right?
"And,im tellin you, it's not necrophelia, Pugh."
That was right up Ink't alley, he hastened a bit over to the bar where there was a corona sitting on the counter next to Pugh.
"What about necorphelia?"
"Pay up, Al."
Al shakes his head and slaps his credit card on the counter. Clearly there was a bet that involved something to do with inkt.
"Actually, that's a double win, baby."
Pugh looks at the digital clock above the bottles behind the bar.
"Ten minutes. That's all it took him to realize no one was listening to him. Just ten minutes. You seriously thought it'd take longer?"
"Well, shit, he was fuckin johnny posessed, i think it was a fair assumption."
"Guys, guys guys, come on, what were you guys talkin about?"
"Oh, right, So, Pugh's under the assumption that it's considered necrophelia if you have sex with a zombie."
"I figured, it isn't. There's some sort of brain wave goin through em, some sort of blood pumping, and so on. It's not like they're really dead, you know? Just a virus."
"Well, it depends on what fuckin zombie you're talkin about, AL! OK?! If you wanna go the virus route, that's fine. Im talkin about them fuckers that rise from the damned grave, become reanimated, and shit like that. You gonna tell me that the virus is that damned strong that I can reanimate the dead?"
Inkt shakes his head, chiming in if only for a moment.
"Look guys, Im not as well versed on the matter, but shit, you both have a point. Totally not necrophelia if it comes to what al's sayin. As for what pugh's sayin, that might be the loop hole. Im not sure, cause i mean, those zombies still create other zombies too right? I mean with the bites and shit?"
"I think so, yeah..."
Inkt takes a long pull of his beer and attempts to psychology that shit.
"So, lets say your reanimated. Like rising from the dead. In theory, then you'd be a host, right? Well, once you bite some one, do they die, and then come back to life, or do they just get infected?"
"See, that's the catch right there. If they die, and then become... You know what? I have nothin more on this, pugh. Another round?"
Pugh and Ink nod and smile as Inkt cashes his beer.
"No fruit this time."
"Seriously? Did you just say no fruit? Inkt, do you even think before you speak?"
"Not usually. I find it easier that way. That way if i come off sounding like a dumb ass, at least then I can always say, it's not like i put a lot of thought and effort into my thought and effort to get my point across,right?"
"true that. If anything, that's one thing anyone can give you credit for."
"What?"
"Not thinking. So, we've got Johnny... Who else do we have, Inkt?"
"Johnny Junior?"
"Oh, right, Hunter. Dude, you think he's gonna go wrestle a bear again?"
"I don't know. To be honest, I dont really care, and more over I dont think anyone else does either. Sure, hunter can wrestle, but let's face it. he's single handedly damn near destroyed the styles mafia from the inside. He's brewing a war from within."
"But don't forget, Johnny's gonna save the day, im sure. Johnny's gonna make it all better."
The three of em laugh.
"All better for himself. shit, Pugh, Al, the best stable that dude could be in is a stable of one."
"Hell that could be said for any of those fucks, Inkt. They all look out for themselves, that's for sure. Not a one seems to give a flying fuck about the other."
"Well, now Al, that's not true. When Inkt was gettin beat on at ignite during my match, it seemed Johnny and Hazard were workin him over pretty good, and they were working together."
"Shut up pugh."
"Make me, biscuit."
"your face is a biscuit."
"Look, what it comes down to is this, Al. You and I know what we're in for. The question is, do they know what's coming their way? I'd hope that just because Pugh and I are an item again-"
"Don't say that. It sounds like we were on a break or some shit, man."
"Right, my bad. Now that Pugh and I are fuckin again... Im wondering if they think we're, or rather I'm just gonna roll over and play dead for them so Pugh and I can officially be together in the ring. But the thing is, Al, I'm not willing to do that. We've started something, and until some one takes it from us, we're the go to tag team sir."
"How's pugh feel about that?"
"It doesn't matter how i feel about it, Al. Do I wanna tag with inkt, and hold the title? Sure. But the thing is, after listening to him, here and there, this shit is about the fans in his mind. When push comes to shove, the fans damn well don't wanna see those straps around those fucks. Hell, they could go on any other tag team, just not the likes of Hunter and Johnny."
"Damn, i honestly didn't think you guys would see it that way. Shit, that gives me some considering to do."
"What?"
"No i mean, as far as how im gonna take this week on. You know? Cause truth be told, Inkt, i was under the same impression. I figured you'd leave me out there to dry."
"Al, a loss for you is a loss for me in my book. Especially when it's a tag match. After what just happened to me, I damn sure don't want to lose the straps to those two ass hats. Dude, its not like we worked super hard to get them, but shit. Johnny hasn't even been in the piles mafia for more then a week, and then this new found team..."
"Now to be fair its not a new found team, inkt."
"Okay, but still, there's other teams out there that deserve a shot at us. Not that im scared of beatin the unholy dog shit out of em, but fuck man. Teams that deserve it. Teams that would help the legacy of the belt. Teams that would...Teams that don't just want the belt because it's a belt."
"It doesn't hurt that they're in jesse's pocket either."
"Oh, don't get me started on that fuckin guy and his lame ass. Dude, his promos, his this that and the other. His taking over the radio show, fuckin shit man. We get it, you're a big deal in your own mind. Good job guy. You created that you had taken away from us months back. No one could stand up to the cru, so you abolish stables for what? So you could make your 'dream team?' Dude, get this man, i understand that even if you ride the bench in the olypics, and you're team gets a medal, tht means you get a medal, but the thing is, last time i checked, there's only one kind of olympics that little band of fuck ups is good for, and that's the special olympics."
"Least in the special olympics every one gets a medal."
"Which, you know, might do those guys some good, cause really, they're trying hard, Al."
Inkt gives a sympathetic look and smiles as he takes another pull from his beer.
"Look man, all im gettin at is this, and for the sake of repeating myself, i'll make it short. They. Dont. Know. Shit."
Pugh, who had been sittin back this whole time smiles.
"Damn man, you've come a long way since your action figure strategy. I think you guys have a shot, man, I really do. Keep on."
Al smiles as well as Inkt as the three of them toast fading the scene...
(TBC by ENVY)
Inkt begins to go on and on as he and pugh sit in their hotel room trying to figure out what the next plan of action might be. Pugh, sadly, was torn between two of his life long friends. The only difference was, Inkt would understand Pugh's decision one way or the other. Johnny on the other hand, would go all out war commando on Inkt and tonz of fun like a fuckin child that didn't get a toy at the store when his white trash mamma found out that food stamps are actually for food. That shit right there is about as fitting a statement as it could get when it comes down to it. Johnny stylez. Child. Selfish. Cock Sucker.
"Relax Inkt, we did what we set out to do."
"We? Or you? Cause if you set out to lose to jesse, uh, good job? Although, that begs the question, did you actually lose to him? Or is this what i need to be looking for down the road when it comes time for you to choose sides next week? Did you just give the fans and myself a taste of what it'd be like? Pugh ridin with the enemy and shit? Don't get me wrong hoss, I'd be up for the challenge to take you and the rest of those fuckin elitist pricks on, but shit dude, i figured you'd be better then that."
Pugh shoots inkt a look of, 'strike one,' with that, inkt shuts up on the subject all together.
"You're one to talk man, did you at least get a punch in when those two were workin ya over?"
"I might have, I'm not too sure, I was too busy watching you drool all over yourself, ya fuckin down."
The two of them match eyes for a second, and continue the stare down until a knock at the door breaks the silence..
"Inkt? You in there?"
The muffled voice of Al Envy quietly penetrated the room. Inkt stands up and walks to the door, backwards, continuing the stare down with pugh. Reaching behind himself, he fiddles with the handle, and finally manages to bring it down allowing Al Envy entrance.
"Al."
"Uh, why am I talking to your back."
"Im in the middle of something right now, Al. Don't make any sudden movements."
Al slips in behind inkt, and then notices pugh on the bed, eyes locked on inkt.
"Jesus christ, it's like two damn cats fixin to dance. Is there something I can help out with?"
"actually al, now that you mention it, to the left there, you'll find my suitcase. In one of the smaller netted zipped compartments, there's a pair of dirty drawers. Ineed you to... STAY RIGHT THE FUCK THERE PUGH!-"
Pugh had situated himself a bit more on the edge of the bed as he had begun to lean down and pick something up off of the floor. Upon hearing inkt's raised voice, he froze if only for a moment.
"Relax, Inkt. Just gettin a magazine."
"LIAR! Al, Netted compartment in my suitcase. Dirty Drawers. NOW!"
Just then, Pugh began to stand, while Inkt began to show signs of hesitation. Their eyes still locked on one another, and thn Inkt felt within his outstretched hand. The warm cottony goodness of his workout shorts. (Made famous by coach inkt about a year or so ago) A grin came to his lips as Inkt slowly started to remove his current shorts, and slide on the yellow shorts. A grin came to his face, as to his delight, Al was staring at him, jaw damn near on the floor. Pugh, however couldn't break the stare down. Not this time, not any time.
"Dude! Those make your bulge look fuckin' huuge!"
Al's voice is what broke the contest. Pugh, if ever so slightly, looked down, and noticed Inkt's bulge. Hoping that Inkt didn't notice pugh noticing him noticing pugh noticing his bulge.
"I FUCKIN KNEW IT! YOU LOOVE THE COCK! I win!"
"Win what? We was fixin to fight. "
"We were? Well shit, had I known that, I would'a just johnny styles cold cocked ya in the face. Heh, cold cock."
Pugh shakes his head, and begins to ready himself to leave.
"Look, it'd seem ya'll made plans and shit, so im just gonna go on ahead and get outta here. Good luck this week, man."
"Where the fuck you think you're goin?"
"Out, Inkt. Christ man, you ain't my keeper. I don't need to check in with you every got damn time i do somethin. This ain't no live action twitter or some shit."
Pugh shakes his head and takes out his cell to emphasize what he was talkin about. Basically to put it into inktanese.
"Boop, 1:00 -Right now, Im makin microwave pop corn. Yum!! Boop, 1:05 Burnt the popcorn, frowny face, I guess i'll have to try again. Boop 1:30 Now i've got the popcorn shits... Boop 2:00 Fell asleep on the toilet, I hope Inkt isn't worried about me. Boop, 2:05 8 missed calls from Inkt wondering what I'm doing. Get a clue man..."
"Damn, that was kind of a dick move."
Pugh slides his phone back into his pocket and smiles over to envy.
"See, that's the thing man. You team with Inkt, you gotta put him in check every now and again. When push comes to shove, sometimes, he thrives on it and becomes more hostile. When he's more hostile, he's more volitile, when he's more volitile, he's harder to predict. Is that a good thing to do mid week, like i just did? Probably not, cause now that shit's on your hands. Is it a good thing to do Monday morning, or whatever day he happens to be fighting? You damn right. Keep that shit in mind, and god only knows what that crazy fuckin bulldog'll do."
Inkt stands there in place, stewing.
"Fuck you pugh. Fuck you right in the hairy brown eye. Yup. Right there. I hope when Emily's finga poppin ya assho, that she doesn't clip her nails, and she catches the fleshy tender part of the brown eye with it, and causes you to bleed. You know what part im talkin about too, don't play it off that im just talkin for the sake of talkin. Im talking about the part that burns during your morning shit after mexican food and beer. You know what the hell i mean."
"Jesus inkt, that shit's fucked up right there man. How the hell do you two even co exist in life? I mean i've seen you guys go through all sorts of adventures and stuff like that, but i mean hell, man, what i've just seen here, i dont understand how you can be one of the most successful tag teams ever."
"Al. This ain't nothin, man."
Pugh smiles and looks over to Al as he speaks.
"This shit's light, ya know? Yeah, we bicker back and fourth. Always have, always will. But what it all boils down to is, we've got no secrets. We put that shit all out there on the table. Now is there some shit that I wish I could take back? You damn right. I wish I had never known about Inkt doin porn. I wish i never tried to hold that over his head, cause now, Al? Now this mother fucker, -and i say that out of love, but this fuckin guy, he won't shut the fuck up about it. Hell, there's been nights, or mornings, or however you wanna look at it, that this fuckin dude, will ramble in his sleep about cock. Ya know? Once you hear that shit, you can't unhear it. Cause you now what that means, Al? He's dreamin about the cock."
Inkt shakes his head and sighs.
"That was one time, One fuckin time that i meantioned cock in my sleep, and you know something, you should be fuckin flattered. You and Johnny both for that matter. It's few and far between that i relive that fuckin porn in my head, but i guess with the right combination of booze and stuff, I dream about it. Although, I always thought J would have a bigger dick then what he did in my dream. But then again, I guess you could compare him to a fancy car."
"What?"
"What?"
Al and Pugh both instantly regretted asking Inkt the question as soon as he opened his mouth.
"Alright, im about to educate you on something. Johnny styles. All he does is talk shit. All he does is make little fuckin deals and associations to better himself, right?"
"Fact."
"Common knowledge"
"Right, so what's the main reason dudes buy fancy cars?"
Both al and pugh know the answer, yet say nothing due to the fact that they had both purched some pretty hefty priced vehicles.
"Give up? Well, check this shit. Okay, so dudes buy fancy ass cars to quote un quote compensate for havin a little dick, yeah? Alright, follow me now, cause this is where it gets thick. Yeah I know this is gonna end up with me talkin about johnny's dick, but that just gets me back to the dream i had anyways. So, you got a fancy ass car, little dick. Chicks love the speed, the power, the overall looks of a guy who drives a nice ass car. Suddenly, she can overlook his baby dick shit."
"Dude, you have a bus."
"I know, my dick's tiny. But this isn't about me right now. Focus, Al."
"So, we all know that johnny can't drive for shit, right? That means no nice cars for him, cause essentially, he can't get insured im sure. So, with that not in the cards for him, he needs something to compensate for having a small dick, AND not being able to drive a nice car. Soooo, what's he do?"
"What?"
"He shits on literally anything and everything around him so he can put himsel up on a pedestal to feel better about himself. This isn't about the whole Johnny v. Inkt... Or whatever, this is abou the simple fact that, I got the pin at wwx. I get chance at gold. PLUS! Al and I already have gold right now. How much gold does that blue haired cocksucker have? ZERO! No nice car for his bitch ass. Nothin. Baby dick is still intact. Truth be told, as long as he doesn't have gold? He's got no fuckin play in this company. Zero. The dude's an amped up pair of clown shoes. Yeah, ooo, he's got a shovel that his little fuckin parrot made for him, that's clever, but let me ask you this, what color is the shovel?"
Pugh nods to himself seeing some sort of connection.
"Gold. I didn't need you guys to really answer that anyways.I got this. So, yeah, now he's got something shiny. That's cool, but still, driving a fuckin tricked out street racer isn't the same as driving a lambo or some shit like that. While they may... Nah, no, they don't come close to costing the same, but still, while both turn heads, which car is gonna make a lasting impression? The lambo. Why? Cause it's got the kind of prestige that can't really be touched by any of the other cars. I suppose since he's got no belt right now, his prestige level is shit. Absolute shit. Cool with me, but Al and I, we've got the tag belts. While they may not be the lambo of New Edge, they sure as fuck aren't the tricked out honda civic that he and hunter's shovels are....hmmm, kinda got off the whole dick tangeant didn't i?"
"Shit dude, that's fine by me, bud. That actually made a lot of sense. So, what you're trying to say is, that Johnny is a gold whore?"
"That's exactly what im trying to say. It doesn't matter what belt it is, he just wants it. He wants them all. Not to make them worth a damn, but to make himself feel better. I guess he's the kind of guy that's like, well, shit, if i have some power (the belts) Maybe then people will respect me and what I do. When really, it doesn't matter how many belts you've had, it doesn't matter what you've done with them, because in then end, you're just a selfish fuckin prick lookin out for one man and one man only. Johnny fucking stylez. Shocker there, I know, but let's face the facts here, hoss, while you may preach, 'no shit.' and spout of stuff like 'i dont care about the fans' and stupid shit like that? Guess what, the fans don't give a shit about you either hoss. But there's more. The fuck do you need the fans for, right? Cause you have the styles mafia, and jesse, and the big bad monster hazard, and the rest of those fuckin dumb asses? Well, yeah, you need the fans almost as badly as jesse needs the fans. The fans fill the fuckin arena. In order to do that... Here we go, basic economics for ya, try and keep up.. In order to do that, they need to pay for their tickets. I know not everything in modern day society can thrive off of social anarchy like it does in your own little world, but anyways, back to what I was saying. The fans, they pay for the tickets. The tickets in turn pay for the venue, the overhead, all that other shit. You know, like, hmmmm.... Ah, yeah, paying the talent. Now, as much as I hate to say it, you are considered talented, man. You've done your fair share and then some. But haven't you ever stopped to wonder why no one gives a fuck that you come and go with the wind when it comes to this company? Have you ever realized that, there's no big to dos about, 'OMG JOHNNY'S BACK FROM REHAB AGAIN! WE'RE SAVED!' Yeah, that's cause no one gives a fuck. You're grand fathered into this fuckin business based on your last name. Based on who's cock you've ridden the.... "
Inkt pauses and looks around to find an empty room. Al and Pugh had left a couple of minutes ago. Just then, Inkt could hear his phone vibrate on the top of his dresser. There was a text message from Al on it. As Inkt picked up the phone and read, a small smile came to his lips.
"Cool promo bro, but we've got better things to do then listen to you ramble on about pointless shit. Meet us down at the hotel bar when you realize you've been talking to yourself for the last several minutes. -Show Stealer."
Inkt shook his head and smiled.
"Son of a bitch, i was cuttin a promo wasn't i? Kinda got caught up in the moment or some shit like that. Who knows. i guess i went a little..."
cRAyZAY!!!!!
Gathering his things, Inkt changed into some clothing that was a bit more socially acceptable. Walking out the door, he locked up, offered a smile, and continued on down to the hotel bar. The elevator, as usual, seemed to be running slow. Inkt could only stand there, and wait with proerbial finger in ass. The muzak playing through the speakers was the Kenny G version of Here comes the boom, or some shit like that. The hotel wanted to seem like it had a chance at gaining New Edge's business everytime they were in town. While it was a clever move, it was still fuckin elevator music.
"Jesus christ, there's still hunter to worry about too."
The doors opened, and instantly, Inkt could hear the voice of Al and Pugh echoing through out the hotel lobby. Their tones almost as though they had never lost a step since the forming of the cRu back in the day. That, in and of itself brought a smile to inkt's lips. Outside of the ring, with some people, it didn't matter who they were, what they did, or how they came to be known. If they were legit, they were legit. Plus, Pugh and Al were legends in the business, they had seen it all. Plain an simple. Inkt, for the most part, was fortunate enough to be under their guidance. He had learned a lot of shit from the New Edge Vets. In a few short weeks, it would be his time to show the world, just what he had learned, and how he planned to give back to them. What had johnny every done for anyone? Nothing. Hunter? Well, if johnny didn't give anything back, why in the fuck would his little clone, right?
"And,im tellin you, it's not necrophelia, Pugh."
That was right up Ink't alley, he hastened a bit over to the bar where there was a corona sitting on the counter next to Pugh.
"What about necorphelia?"
"Pay up, Al."
Al shakes his head and slaps his credit card on the counter. Clearly there was a bet that involved something to do with inkt.
"Actually, that's a double win, baby."
Pugh looks at the digital clock above the bottles behind the bar.
"Ten minutes. That's all it took him to realize no one was listening to him. Just ten minutes. You seriously thought it'd take longer?"
"Well, shit, he was fuckin johnny posessed, i think it was a fair assumption."
"Guys, guys guys, come on, what were you guys talkin about?"
"Oh, right, So, Pugh's under the assumption that it's considered necrophelia if you have sex with a zombie."
"I figured, it isn't. There's some sort of brain wave goin through em, some sort of blood pumping, and so on. It's not like they're really dead, you know? Just a virus."
"Well, it depends on what fuckin zombie you're talkin about, AL! OK?! If you wanna go the virus route, that's fine. Im talkin about them fuckers that rise from the damned grave, become reanimated, and shit like that. You gonna tell me that the virus is that damned strong that I can reanimate the dead?"
Inkt shakes his head, chiming in if only for a moment.
"Look guys, Im not as well versed on the matter, but shit, you both have a point. Totally not necrophelia if it comes to what al's sayin. As for what pugh's sayin, that might be the loop hole. Im not sure, cause i mean, those zombies still create other zombies too right? I mean with the bites and shit?"
"I think so, yeah..."
Inkt takes a long pull of his beer and attempts to psychology that shit.
"So, lets say your reanimated. Like rising from the dead. In theory, then you'd be a host, right? Well, once you bite some one, do they die, and then come back to life, or do they just get infected?"
"See, that's the catch right there. If they die, and then become... You know what? I have nothin more on this, pugh. Another round?"
Pugh and Ink nod and smile as Inkt cashes his beer.
"No fruit this time."
"Seriously? Did you just say no fruit? Inkt, do you even think before you speak?"
"Not usually. I find it easier that way. That way if i come off sounding like a dumb ass, at least then I can always say, it's not like i put a lot of thought and effort into my thought and effort to get my point across,right?"
"true that. If anything, that's one thing anyone can give you credit for."
"What?"
"Not thinking. So, we've got Johnny... Who else do we have, Inkt?"
"Johnny Junior?"
"Oh, right, Hunter. Dude, you think he's gonna go wrestle a bear again?"
"I don't know. To be honest, I dont really care, and more over I dont think anyone else does either. Sure, hunter can wrestle, but let's face it. he's single handedly damn near destroyed the styles mafia from the inside. He's brewing a war from within."
"But don't forget, Johnny's gonna save the day, im sure. Johnny's gonna make it all better."
The three of em laugh.
"All better for himself. shit, Pugh, Al, the best stable that dude could be in is a stable of one."
"Hell that could be said for any of those fucks, Inkt. They all look out for themselves, that's for sure. Not a one seems to give a flying fuck about the other."
"Well, now Al, that's not true. When Inkt was gettin beat on at ignite during my match, it seemed Johnny and Hazard were workin him over pretty good, and they were working together."
"Shut up pugh."
"Make me, biscuit."
"your face is a biscuit."
"Look, what it comes down to is this, Al. You and I know what we're in for. The question is, do they know what's coming their way? I'd hope that just because Pugh and I are an item again-"
"Don't say that. It sounds like we were on a break or some shit, man."
"Right, my bad. Now that Pugh and I are fuckin again... Im wondering if they think we're, or rather I'm just gonna roll over and play dead for them so Pugh and I can officially be together in the ring. But the thing is, Al, I'm not willing to do that. We've started something, and until some one takes it from us, we're the go to tag team sir."
"How's pugh feel about that?"
"It doesn't matter how i feel about it, Al. Do I wanna tag with inkt, and hold the title? Sure. But the thing is, after listening to him, here and there, this shit is about the fans in his mind. When push comes to shove, the fans damn well don't wanna see those straps around those fucks. Hell, they could go on any other tag team, just not the likes of Hunter and Johnny."
"Damn, i honestly didn't think you guys would see it that way. Shit, that gives me some considering to do."
"What?"
"No i mean, as far as how im gonna take this week on. You know? Cause truth be told, Inkt, i was under the same impression. I figured you'd leave me out there to dry."
"Al, a loss for you is a loss for me in my book. Especially when it's a tag match. After what just happened to me, I damn sure don't want to lose the straps to those two ass hats. Dude, its not like we worked super hard to get them, but shit. Johnny hasn't even been in the piles mafia for more then a week, and then this new found team..."
"Now to be fair its not a new found team, inkt."
"Okay, but still, there's other teams out there that deserve a shot at us. Not that im scared of beatin the unholy dog shit out of em, but fuck man. Teams that deserve it. Teams that would help the legacy of the belt. Teams that would...Teams that don't just want the belt because it's a belt."
"It doesn't hurt that they're in jesse's pocket either."
"Oh, don't get me started on that fuckin guy and his lame ass. Dude, his promos, his this that and the other. His taking over the radio show, fuckin shit man. We get it, you're a big deal in your own mind. Good job guy. You created that you had taken away from us months back. No one could stand up to the cru, so you abolish stables for what? So you could make your 'dream team?' Dude, get this man, i understand that even if you ride the bench in the olypics, and you're team gets a medal, tht means you get a medal, but the thing is, last time i checked, there's only one kind of olympics that little band of fuck ups is good for, and that's the special olympics."
"Least in the special olympics every one gets a medal."
"Which, you know, might do those guys some good, cause really, they're trying hard, Al."
Inkt gives a sympathetic look and smiles as he takes another pull from his beer.
"Look man, all im gettin at is this, and for the sake of repeating myself, i'll make it short. They. Dont. Know. Shit."
Pugh, who had been sittin back this whole time smiles.
"Damn man, you've come a long way since your action figure strategy. I think you guys have a shot, man, I really do. Keep on."
Al smiles as well as Inkt as the three of them toast fading the scene...
(TBC by ENVY)