Post by Jake Titan on Mar 4, 2013 0:30:40 GMT -4
Jake Titan has a hand full of full of cash, a du rag around his bald head, a modest size of $10 chips in front of him and a chocolate eating grin on his face. Everyone around him is cheering him on, and then our favorite gangsta winds his hand back and threw the dice as he shouted. The dice read “3” and “1”, coincidently Jake’s money was on four. Unable to see how successful his throw was, Jake closed his eyes and shied away.
“Hard four!” the dealer cried out. Jake cheered loudly and dropped on his knees. Interestingly enough, Jake spun around on his shoulder and continued cheering.
This was great for Jake Titan. A pile of chips $800 worth is passed towards Jake. Once Titan is off the ground, his attitude changed and he was serious again. The young man next to him smiled and leaned over.
“Hey homie, aren’t you Jake Titan man?” The man asked.
Apparently people recognized Jake. It took some time but people now recognize him for who is and what he’ll become. “Yea’ homie, I’m Jake Titan.”
“Your matches are horrible, your partner carries you to victory yet you’re the luckiest turd I’ve ever seen.” Bets start going out.
Jakes face is flat and expressionless. ‘Okay, now dis motha fucka’s askin’ fo’ me to beat da dog shit outta him.’ Yes it would get Jake thrown out and banned from this casino. But you know what? It sure as Hell beats the dice games in the hood as there’s a 100% chance of losing your money on a good night.
Even though in his gut, Jake knew he shouldn’t be betting such large amounts of money because of his massive back owed rent. But he’s been feeling lucky all week. There was a good chance that if he and Leon “The Virus” Roberts beat Dr. Gray and The G.I. that the Natural Born Killaz would move forward in the tournament. Hell, if The Natural Born Killaz beat War Ensemble fast enough, they might go straight to the finals!
But everyone knows that all work and no play can lead to insanity. Why risk losing your good mental health? Jake might have done a lot of things in the past and have taken a lot of blows to the head but he’s not about to go legally crazy. This Natural Born Killa was crazy enough for partnering with Lucifer incarnate: Leon “The Virus” Roberts. As Jake gambled away his rent money, he was going to have fun.
“Yo’ dawg, put everything on eight.” Being arrogant, Jake passed one thousand dollars’ worth of chips towards the dealer.
The dealer reaches out with a dice stick and places his bet. “As you wish, Mister Titan.”
“Hey bra, don’t call me dat. Just call me Jake. It’s bad enough that I got a match in Quebec City man. No offense to your country, I’m just saying.” Jake leaned down and stared down the table as the dice were given to another play and he got ready to throw.
“All’s good budday.” A third voice said, Jake looked over and noticed that the Pit Boss was the one who sounded like an episode of South Park. As funny as it was, Jake was a fish out of water as long as he was in Canada and he couldn’t laugh at these Canadian accents. However, Jake was fully aware that his Harlem accent isn’t exactly local himself.
The other patron threw the dice. Jake’s eyes followed those dice as they flew across the felt tablecloth. One of the dice dead stopped on six. “YES!” Jake shouted his voice not able to contain his join.
However the other dice wasn’t his ally. “Seven out!” The dealer cried, and Jake Titan would start crying too.
One thousand dollars lost on a single bet. Greed got the better of him and Jake was out of the game. Now what? He still owes rent to Randy Roberts. Not wanting to admit defeat, Jake walked over an ATM and prepared to get money. “Man I’m so glad Leon let me borrow his debit card. I still can’t believe he’s such a great guy to let me borrow his money to make money to pay off his old man.”
After a minute or so, Jake pulled out another five hundred and walked around. Notice a cocktail waitress, he walked over and stole a drink and tipped her a one. Although he started with a big gulp, he quickly spat the drink back. “Fuckin’ diet, man!” Then threw the cup into a trash can as he sat down at a high limit Blackjack table.
“Hey what’s up, dawg? Lemme buy in.” said the APW’s Original Gangsta as he took a seat.
A loud, heavy set man with a cowboy hat looked over with a large grin at Jake. “Go right ahead son!” What a wondering Texan, Jake Titan though. But why is a Texan gambling in Canada?
After handing the five hundred over, Jake received his chips from the dealer. The Texan next to him on the other hand has three stacks of one thousand dollar chips. There had to be at least twenty thousand dollars a stack and this only made Jake think this table had to be hot. A modest bet of one hundred dollars is made by Jake and five thousand by the Texan.
“Nice bet there son, little unsure of yerself?” His raspy voice taunted Jake.
“Naw dawg, I ain’t rich like you, man.” Then the cards were dealt out.
Jake received a three and four while the other man received a pair of Kings. With an open palm slide over the two ladies, the dealer knew the patron was standing. Jake on the other hand was the gambling type. “Hit me, bra.”
A five and Jake rubbed his eyes. “Thirteen? Are ya serious? Hit me again”
A two, now this was insulting to not only Jake Titan’s luck but to the gangsta himself, his manhood. “Hit me…” said a depressed man.
“Twenty two, player breaks.” The dealer took the money and the cards.
Yet the Texan laughed. “Sorry about yer luck son!” He slapped his cowboy hat off his leg.
On the other hand, the dealer had a face up Ace. Then he flipped his card and revealed a jack. “Twenty-One, player loses. Sorry sir.”
Isn’t irony great? “Serves ya right man.”
“Yes, is serves everyone right.” Leon Roberts said, taking a seat next to Jake.
‘Ah shit!’ Jake thought as he saw his partner sit down next to him. “Yo’ dawg, sup?”
A firm arm wrapped around Jakes neck as Leon pulled him over with a huge but fake smile on his face. “Oh nothing, as there are not a lot of people here at this table, I thought I’d wish you luck.”
More laughter filled the air as the other guest just laughed at Jake’s misfortune. Each man makes a bet; Jake betted two hundred dollars while the Texan betted two thousand. Cards are dealt and the Texan stands at nineteen right away while Leon watched Jake get two aces. Now this was nerve wracking, Jake placed two hundred dollars down and got a pair of fives right off the bat.
But even with Leon’s watchful eye, Jake was still a compulsive gambling. With another two hundred on the table, Jake Titan got a third and final card trying to double his money. “Fifteen”
Then Jake’s head was put in a Cobra Clutch as Leon began to strangle Jake for a wild bet. The dealer flipped a sixteen, having not reached seventeen yet he had to hit. The dealer lays down a seven. “Twenty-two, dealer breaks. Everybody wins!”
Jake over powers the astonished Leon and takes his money. “Bye, cats!” he shouted and left quickly. However Leon was right behind him.
“I’m suddenly missing my ATM card. You have any clue as to what happened to it?” asked Leon.
Jake gave the chips to Leon, then reached into his pocket for Leon’s debit card and gave it to him. While he is shocked, Leon certainly isn’t surprised that Jake stole his debit card. What can only be explained as a face filled with repressed rage but filled with disappointment, Leon glared at his tag team partner. “Seriously? You stole my credit card?”
“Well signed me up for being your daughter’s baby sitter, ya didn’t pay me so I just got my pay. By the way, you made an extra two hundred.” Jake slowly tried to slink away.
Leon closed in on McLovin. “Ah but we still have a match, DOG.”
“Yea’, I know, dawg. Got big ass match dis week, ya feel me?”
Leon nodded his head. “Yeah, I feel you dog.”
“I knew yous gay.” Then jokingly Jake punched his partners shoulder as they waited in line for Leon to cash out.
“Naw, seriously though dawg. Ensemble...what a shitty name and equally shitty team. They always lookin’ for a fight or something.
“I dunno, all I know is from what I've heard, one guy has so fucked in the head dat he's afraid of his own shadow. But when he gets in da mode, well then he's good: a fighter. Then again he is an ex-soldier. But still if he tries to fight us, well it ain't gonna be much of a fight, even if he somehow 'hulks up' to fight back.” Then he mockingly flexes his muscles. Leon chuckles a little as he gets paid in all tens.
“He’s a soldier from your home of fat and land of the brave.”
“Heh, yea’ he might be mista G.I. Joe but dat ain’t shit, dawg. The war field might be a tough place, I get dat. But it ain’t the ring, man. As a soldier of war, you be fighin’ wit’ guns but in da ring, ya fightin’ wit’ yo’ hands. He ain’t gonna have no punk ass way to win our match, dawg. We’re takin’ him and his doctor out and heading to Rasslemania.” Jake then snatched a cup off a tray.
He took a long drink, than began coughing up quarters. The man who owned those quarters looked at Jake. “Yeah, I did that too.”
While Leon and the customer laugh about Jakes folly, he quickly recovered. Then handed back the quarters.
“Then there is cracka two, Dr Gray. From what I heard, dis motha fucka thinks he can own the place, based on brains alone. Brains are good in all but not everyone is smart enough to get controlled and I is one! Den I heard this guy got kicked out of the society he was part of. Well if one does get kicked out by other brainy snobs then he's fucked up in the head.
“I heard it was his idea to get G.I into wrestling. A reverse cure for a man so visibly shell shocked? I dunno if that works but good luck. Only thing he'll have a shot at.” Then Jake snapped his fingers in front of Leon, in order to grab his attention again.
Even though he heard everything his partner had to say, Leon wasn’t interested in the least. “Isn’t that Medical Malpractice? I mean that just doesn’t sound right.”
Unsure what Medical Malpractice exactly, Jake simply shrugged his shoulder. “I dunno much about this 'War Ensemble' and I don't care. All they are is our opponents this week and after that, dey be nuttin’. So the Natural Born Killaz gotta do what we do best. Go in, kick some ass, take the win, and celebrate hard. It ain't nuttin’ personal, it's just business. But what the tag chumps did to us, well dat's personal. Gotta thank them and how we'll do that, is by breaking the fucken necks, and taking the titles. Ya feel me?”
Already knowing this joke, Leon just nodded head. However Jake then began sword fighting his index fingers just to pester Leon. Then something came to Leon’s mind: “Why am I his tag partner again?”
~End
[/u][/center]“Hard four!” the dealer cried out. Jake cheered loudly and dropped on his knees. Interestingly enough, Jake spun around on his shoulder and continued cheering.
This was great for Jake Titan. A pile of chips $800 worth is passed towards Jake. Once Titan is off the ground, his attitude changed and he was serious again. The young man next to him smiled and leaned over.
“Hey homie, aren’t you Jake Titan man?” The man asked.
Apparently people recognized Jake. It took some time but people now recognize him for who is and what he’ll become. “Yea’ homie, I’m Jake Titan.”
“Your matches are horrible, your partner carries you to victory yet you’re the luckiest turd I’ve ever seen.” Bets start going out.
Jakes face is flat and expressionless. ‘Okay, now dis motha fucka’s askin’ fo’ me to beat da dog shit outta him.’ Yes it would get Jake thrown out and banned from this casino. But you know what? It sure as Hell beats the dice games in the hood as there’s a 100% chance of losing your money on a good night.
Even though in his gut, Jake knew he shouldn’t be betting such large amounts of money because of his massive back owed rent. But he’s been feeling lucky all week. There was a good chance that if he and Leon “The Virus” Roberts beat Dr. Gray and The G.I. that the Natural Born Killaz would move forward in the tournament. Hell, if The Natural Born Killaz beat War Ensemble fast enough, they might go straight to the finals!
But everyone knows that all work and no play can lead to insanity. Why risk losing your good mental health? Jake might have done a lot of things in the past and have taken a lot of blows to the head but he’s not about to go legally crazy. This Natural Born Killa was crazy enough for partnering with Lucifer incarnate: Leon “The Virus” Roberts. As Jake gambled away his rent money, he was going to have fun.
“Yo’ dawg, put everything on eight.” Being arrogant, Jake passed one thousand dollars’ worth of chips towards the dealer.
The dealer reaches out with a dice stick and places his bet. “As you wish, Mister Titan.”
“Hey bra, don’t call me dat. Just call me Jake. It’s bad enough that I got a match in Quebec City man. No offense to your country, I’m just saying.” Jake leaned down and stared down the table as the dice were given to another play and he got ready to throw.
“All’s good budday.” A third voice said, Jake looked over and noticed that the Pit Boss was the one who sounded like an episode of South Park. As funny as it was, Jake was a fish out of water as long as he was in Canada and he couldn’t laugh at these Canadian accents. However, Jake was fully aware that his Harlem accent isn’t exactly local himself.
The other patron threw the dice. Jake’s eyes followed those dice as they flew across the felt tablecloth. One of the dice dead stopped on six. “YES!” Jake shouted his voice not able to contain his join.
However the other dice wasn’t his ally. “Seven out!” The dealer cried, and Jake Titan would start crying too.
One thousand dollars lost on a single bet. Greed got the better of him and Jake was out of the game. Now what? He still owes rent to Randy Roberts. Not wanting to admit defeat, Jake walked over an ATM and prepared to get money. “Man I’m so glad Leon let me borrow his debit card. I still can’t believe he’s such a great guy to let me borrow his money to make money to pay off his old man.”
After a minute or so, Jake pulled out another five hundred and walked around. Notice a cocktail waitress, he walked over and stole a drink and tipped her a one. Although he started with a big gulp, he quickly spat the drink back. “Fuckin’ diet, man!” Then threw the cup into a trash can as he sat down at a high limit Blackjack table.
“Hey what’s up, dawg? Lemme buy in.” said the APW’s Original Gangsta as he took a seat.
A loud, heavy set man with a cowboy hat looked over with a large grin at Jake. “Go right ahead son!” What a wondering Texan, Jake Titan though. But why is a Texan gambling in Canada?
After handing the five hundred over, Jake received his chips from the dealer. The Texan next to him on the other hand has three stacks of one thousand dollar chips. There had to be at least twenty thousand dollars a stack and this only made Jake think this table had to be hot. A modest bet of one hundred dollars is made by Jake and five thousand by the Texan.
“Nice bet there son, little unsure of yerself?” His raspy voice taunted Jake.
“Naw dawg, I ain’t rich like you, man.” Then the cards were dealt out.
Jake received a three and four while the other man received a pair of Kings. With an open palm slide over the two ladies, the dealer knew the patron was standing. Jake on the other hand was the gambling type. “Hit me, bra.”
A five and Jake rubbed his eyes. “Thirteen? Are ya serious? Hit me again”
A two, now this was insulting to not only Jake Titan’s luck but to the gangsta himself, his manhood. “Hit me…” said a depressed man.
“Twenty two, player breaks.” The dealer took the money and the cards.
Yet the Texan laughed. “Sorry about yer luck son!” He slapped his cowboy hat off his leg.
On the other hand, the dealer had a face up Ace. Then he flipped his card and revealed a jack. “Twenty-One, player loses. Sorry sir.”
Isn’t irony great? “Serves ya right man.”
“Yes, is serves everyone right.” Leon Roberts said, taking a seat next to Jake.
‘Ah shit!’ Jake thought as he saw his partner sit down next to him. “Yo’ dawg, sup?”
A firm arm wrapped around Jakes neck as Leon pulled him over with a huge but fake smile on his face. “Oh nothing, as there are not a lot of people here at this table, I thought I’d wish you luck.”
More laughter filled the air as the other guest just laughed at Jake’s misfortune. Each man makes a bet; Jake betted two hundred dollars while the Texan betted two thousand. Cards are dealt and the Texan stands at nineteen right away while Leon watched Jake get two aces. Now this was nerve wracking, Jake placed two hundred dollars down and got a pair of fives right off the bat.
But even with Leon’s watchful eye, Jake was still a compulsive gambling. With another two hundred on the table, Jake Titan got a third and final card trying to double his money. “Fifteen”
Then Jake’s head was put in a Cobra Clutch as Leon began to strangle Jake for a wild bet. The dealer flipped a sixteen, having not reached seventeen yet he had to hit. The dealer lays down a seven. “Twenty-two, dealer breaks. Everybody wins!”
Jake over powers the astonished Leon and takes his money. “Bye, cats!” he shouted and left quickly. However Leon was right behind him.
“I’m suddenly missing my ATM card. You have any clue as to what happened to it?” asked Leon.
Jake gave the chips to Leon, then reached into his pocket for Leon’s debit card and gave it to him. While he is shocked, Leon certainly isn’t surprised that Jake stole his debit card. What can only be explained as a face filled with repressed rage but filled with disappointment, Leon glared at his tag team partner. “Seriously? You stole my credit card?”
“Well signed me up for being your daughter’s baby sitter, ya didn’t pay me so I just got my pay. By the way, you made an extra two hundred.” Jake slowly tried to slink away.
Leon closed in on McLovin. “Ah but we still have a match, DOG.”
“Yea’, I know, dawg. Got big ass match dis week, ya feel me?”
Leon nodded his head. “Yeah, I feel you dog.”
“I knew yous gay.” Then jokingly Jake punched his partners shoulder as they waited in line for Leon to cash out.
“Naw, seriously though dawg. Ensemble...what a shitty name and equally shitty team. They always lookin’ for a fight or something.
“I dunno, all I know is from what I've heard, one guy has so fucked in the head dat he's afraid of his own shadow. But when he gets in da mode, well then he's good: a fighter. Then again he is an ex-soldier. But still if he tries to fight us, well it ain't gonna be much of a fight, even if he somehow 'hulks up' to fight back.” Then he mockingly flexes his muscles. Leon chuckles a little as he gets paid in all tens.
“He’s a soldier from your home of fat and land of the brave.”
“Heh, yea’ he might be mista G.I. Joe but dat ain’t shit, dawg. The war field might be a tough place, I get dat. But it ain’t the ring, man. As a soldier of war, you be fighin’ wit’ guns but in da ring, ya fightin’ wit’ yo’ hands. He ain’t gonna have no punk ass way to win our match, dawg. We’re takin’ him and his doctor out and heading to Rasslemania.” Jake then snatched a cup off a tray.
He took a long drink, than began coughing up quarters. The man who owned those quarters looked at Jake. “Yeah, I did that too.”
While Leon and the customer laugh about Jakes folly, he quickly recovered. Then handed back the quarters.
“Then there is cracka two, Dr Gray. From what I heard, dis motha fucka thinks he can own the place, based on brains alone. Brains are good in all but not everyone is smart enough to get controlled and I is one! Den I heard this guy got kicked out of the society he was part of. Well if one does get kicked out by other brainy snobs then he's fucked up in the head.
“I heard it was his idea to get G.I into wrestling. A reverse cure for a man so visibly shell shocked? I dunno if that works but good luck. Only thing he'll have a shot at.” Then Jake snapped his fingers in front of Leon, in order to grab his attention again.
Even though he heard everything his partner had to say, Leon wasn’t interested in the least. “Isn’t that Medical Malpractice? I mean that just doesn’t sound right.”
Unsure what Medical Malpractice exactly, Jake simply shrugged his shoulder. “I dunno much about this 'War Ensemble' and I don't care. All they are is our opponents this week and after that, dey be nuttin’. So the Natural Born Killaz gotta do what we do best. Go in, kick some ass, take the win, and celebrate hard. It ain't nuttin’ personal, it's just business. But what the tag chumps did to us, well dat's personal. Gotta thank them and how we'll do that, is by breaking the fucken necks, and taking the titles. Ya feel me?”
Already knowing this joke, Leon just nodded head. However Jake then began sword fighting his index fingers just to pester Leon. Then something came to Leon’s mind: “Why am I his tag partner again?”
~End
