A Real Trip

[J-Hop]

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FOLLOW THE BLACK RABBIT…
♦ [ right into a wall ] ♦
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Time: Unknown
Location: Unknown

Layers of clouds are visible, the air is crisp. To wake up and not know where I was, it was a first. I was feeling all over myself to see if all was still real. I felt no different. Darkness killed my vision as the blurriness in my eyes pretty much fiddled with trying to seek the location of where I was. Continually rubbing my somewhat-now sore eye, it changed nothing. Standing in nothing but a black and white bandana with matching black and white striped trunk shorts and flip flops, just where in the fuck was I? I was so confused, I had to ask myself in third person.

“Where the hell am I?”

Out of nowhere, this buzzing in my pants caused me to damn near jump out of these flip-flops as I reached to the side to where the buzzing was coming from. I reached into the right-side pocket and pulled out what was my iPhone 4s. As I went to lift it to my head, there was written text on the screen. Someone sent me a text message with “unknown” listed as the caller and the number being ten zeros.

“The answer is out there, Jair, and it's looking for you, and it will find you if you want it to.”

Looking up, now I was really ‘fucked’. The first thing I did was throw out a laugh, playing it all off.

“Okay Karin … I dig your love for science fiction … Stop trippin, tho!”

I instantly texted back, with a cordial smile as I knew this was one of her planned jokes.

“Girl, you’re funny as hell. You been hittin’ them mushrooms?”

Sending, it processed and finally was sent back to that number. A fail alert came back stating that the text could not send, number not valid. A gaffe-looking facial I had on my face as I did not understand what the hell was going on.

All of a sudden, another buzzing came, rattling in the palm of my hand as it showed the text.

“Follow the black rabbit!”

My eyes blink several times as my head cannot process that shit … AT ALL. The hell? Follow who? What the hell was I doing and where the hell am I?

Out of nowhere, a quick tap on the shoulder leads me to turn my head as this … fine-ass black woman struts her way as I’m literally … literally lost for words.

“You ain’t Karin!” I said, pointing at the obvious.

“No shit? Follow me, boy!”

Quick-witted, sassy and knowing it, she switched her way ‘on and off’ on the sidewalk as she turned left on the corner. Me, trying to take all this in while trying to walk concrete in flip-flops. Who was this chick and why the hell does she want me to follow? As we passed under some lights, I caught sight of her lower back as it was a tattoo outline of a bunny.

“I totally didn’t know Lola Bunny had a black rabbit friend. Who the hell are you?” I asked, wanting to know … BADLY.

She stopped as she stood beside a black Bentley, clean as a mirror, reflection clear as ever.

“Get in there!” She barked orders at me.

“Where are you taking me? Who are you? Unless we’re about to fuck, I’m not getting in there!”

None of that did anything to cause her to flinch. The only one flinched was my ass as she stuck her pointed shoe right in the crack of my ass, penetrating through my trunks. Her work was successful as she got me into the Bentley, the hard way. I found myself in the hands of two huge, muscular bastards that look like ‘Damon’ from Friday After Next with ski-masks on. The unknown chick got up front, riding ‘Shotgun’ as the Bentley took off.

The two men had me tied, pressed against the backing, their strength was untouchable as I tried my best to fight them off and wiggle out of it but it didn’t happen. The chick up front reached into her glove box as she drew out a fancy little metal box, the size of a case of Altoids. Opening it, she gives one of the men holding me down a glowing pill as I tried my best to kick it out of his possession.

That shit did nothing.

“Make sure he takes it and swallows it!”

She yelled out in command to her two ‘troops’ as one held me down while the other fought to open my mouth. I fought that shit but the power trip gained as the ‘force-feeding’ trick worked in the favor after almost three minutes of struggling.

“The fuck you give me an ecstasy pill for?”

The woman reached into the back where I was as she slapped the piss out of me, literally.

“SHUT UP … and let it work through. It’s not ecstasy pill either.”

A bit vile and angry the woman was as she asserted herself back into the shotgun/passenger seat. My face soar, my body worn, snugged in between two muscular men, smeared to death as I began to feel funny.

“Just let it sink in…”

As the Bentley continued to make it’s way to the unknown destination, my eyes suddenly soon began to show closure. Lowering down like a garage door, they fell shut as that was all I could remember.



-- Moments Later –



“What the hell? Am I in ‘Pimp Heaven’ now?”

Everything was purple, the furniture was purple. Even the bastard in front of me was dressed in a purple suit. Wait … hold up…

“SNOOP DOGG???” I shouted out, not believing my eyes right now.

“Naw lil’ homie … I ain’t as dope as that dude but I appreciate the compliment. Come follow me, have a seat!”

As he spoke, he sounded just like Snoop Dogg. He had the smooth walk, the hair-line, even those extra limo-tinted glasses. If it wasn’t Snoop, was it his clone or something?

“How you feeling, kid?” He asked.

“I feel …I don’t feel good at all. I feel like I’ve gotten kidnapped and raped. All I had was some nachos and now I’m here … in a purple room, with a Snoop Dogg look-a-like.”

“Don’t trip one bit, homie. Want a muffin? Ya’ got a strawberry and a blueberry. Please choose wisely!”

What in the holy fruit loop was going on? Offering muffins? From here on out, I was pretty much fucked.

“What’s the difference?” I asked, looking at this guy who really sounded like Snoop.

“If you take and eat the strawberry one, you get to walkthrough this dope-ass world where everything you always wanted will be yours. If you eat the blueberry, you go back to your boring ass ghetto neighborhood. Eat that strawberry one, I’m tellin ya it’s off the ‘shizzle’ my ‘Nizzle’!

I stood there, undecided as a motherfucker while confused at the same goddamn time. He had that smirk on his face as he looked at me with my ‘oh fuck!’ face. He knew I was weak with how bad my hands were shaking.

“You eat that strawberry muffin … I’ll really show you what I mean and how far this road can go, homie!”

Yeah, I needed some time on this …

"B E I N G T H E O N E"
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♫ NOW PLAYING: "I WISH YOU WOULD" - DJ KHALED FT. K. WEST/ R. ROSS

Partners one week … Enemies the next week.

Back to the start, that is how the industry goes. We dismantled what they call the “European Invasion”. We dismembered it. Everyone loved it, they loved seeing those two poor scums on the canvas, spitting out their brick-yellow, mortar colored teeth. While that was amusing to perform against them and watch them eat shit, I couldn’t rest one minute. The information came through my tablet later on that night who would be my opponent the next show.

Johnny “OG Pranksta” Sykes.

The man I just tagged with. The man that I’ve been to war with for the past month, varying in so many matches. The man I saw drop almost close to ten feet in the air through four stacks of tables. The same man who has been nothing of what his name states. He isn’t anything of a prankster, he wasn’t anything of a joke when he “victory rolled” Jason Kash, the new Suicidal Champion for the one, two, three. His eyes are on the prize, like mines. He knows what it takes to beat Jason. He wants that chance again to prove to Jason that he is and can be a very, serious threat to him and that title. No longer does looking at his name causes one to crack a cackle at him and his style because it has proved to get the job done.

That was the ‘old’ me. Sure, it’s only three weeks ago but a day can make a difference. What everyone saw at Shockwave, it was a man who finally felt the texture of gold and got so excited, he fucking lapsed and lost out to the one, the only Jason Kash. Oh yeah … and two others, one who I face this week. Everyone has been congratulating me for my tag team performance with Sykes against Raab and Yarmouth.

In reality, someone had to shut them up.

Gratefully, they paired us up. We’ve spent so long spitting ‘fighting words’ at each other, we had to do something many enemies can’t do too well. Tag and be a team for one night. Really, in all honesty, we’re not enemies. We’re just starving young men who wants to reach that gold ceiling. We’ve been up against each other so many times now, it’s going to prove harder to win this match. We know each other already. When to duck, when to dodge, when to move the fuck out the way and counter back.

Again, it’s not just a ‘regular’ match. It’s a contenders match for that Suicidal title. I know Sykes want to get another shot at Kash just to prove that scoring that pinfall wasn’t a fluke but he will garner another shot against a possible new champion.

If you are failing to understand my ‘long’ text … Let me provide you a short answer.

A black man is about to go H.A.M on this ‘flanky’ piece of white meat.

Johnny, I have no doubt you will pull off your best work to get this contender’s shot but it’s all about who makes that costly mistake. I’ve made my round of mistakes. You too have done the same. To see the disgust and severe look of pain in your face, I don’t know if you can take too much to that portion of your body which … is a “target” spot for anyone and everyone who gets you in the ring.

I’m not going to fool myself and say I’m not going to attack that area. I’m going to do whatever it takes to ground you and grind out a victory. Not being dirty at all, I’m being honest. That’s what you would do in that case if I was severely wounded from a hit like that. You would do all you can to impact that section to the point of an illuminating light bulb sorta like when someone has a ‘bright’ idea.

I respect your game, and you before have respected mines. You’ve also been a thorn in more than just my side. Jason can’t stand you nor half of the Asylum roster but I dig your game and I hope you continue to hustle. But you best believe, my black ass ain’t going zero for four come Asylum. I’m getting my shot and I’m running with it. Best belee’ dat, Sykes!

It’s game time!