Post by J-Hop on May 4, 2013 17:25:33 GMT -4
“SH!T ON YOU NI&&@$”
Caged Carnage
APRIL 29TH 2013 -- CURITIBA, BRAZIL | 10:09 PM
“Fuck .... This ... SHIT!”
Scrambling like a bat out of hell, I slammed every piece of my clothing and items into my black duffel bag as I stood in my corner of the ‘The Dying Breed’s’ locker room. Anthony and William, who remained quiet as well sat in their chairs, heads down with their hands on their forehead. That was until they heard that outburst.
“I can’t take it NO more. I just can’t. I’m losing it!”
Expressive anger boiling over and out as I spoke, head down, focus on the content packing in the duffel bag. I didn’t want no conversation, none of that ‘chill talk’ shit. I was fired up. Anthony and Williams finally learned about my anger meter and just how both motivating and deteriorating it can be.
“We will get payback. They didn’t win tonight. Foul Play is going to definitely get it.” Anthony spoke as his head never raised from it’s position.
A long sigh came out of my mouth as I grew tired of the wait game.
“Hell with the waiting process, Anthony. I get it, you’re much calmer than I am. Reaver want to pull ropes. We’ll see how he can pull that motherfuckin’ rope when it’s around his neck, choking the shit out of him come Asylum!”
I could see the face of Williams as he had that “OOHH WEEEE!” look on it, hearing the outpour of expletives as I came to a finish with all of my clothes packed. Looking up at both Bailey and Williams, my brothers, I slung the bag around my shoulders, setting my white/black Nike “Swoosh” cap on my head.
“We have to think this route through thoroughly, J-Hop! I know you’re mad ... Hell, I’m mad too. I do know that when our time comes, we won’t be stopped!”
Williams speaking, he tried his best method of words to keep me calm but right now, this time, this moment. No words of comfort were going to work. I had my sight set. Asylum was coming quick as the hours and seconds passed by. Thinking routes appropriately ain’t for me this moment.
“Will, I appreciate the words of comfort man, but I’m not for it.”
“Just ... Just don’t do something you’ll regret later. You’re still not all the way recovered from that damage in the parking lot. I know you’re hot right now. We are the champions, they aren’t. They want us to decay. We can’t show any signs of dysfunction.”
“Yeah, you know Aubrey will be all over that in a moments notice. She can’t overcome the fact that we are much better than they thought. They are the number one contenders but it means nothing. We have what they want. They will never get their hands on it.” William commented after Bailey.
The frown on my face spoke loud. My eyes dimmed as I went towards the door.
“Shit with that whore, daddy long legs, blondie and those fucking cockroaches! I’m out. I’ll meet you all in Sau Paulo!”
Opening the door as I did, I closed it just as fast and as hard as it shook the damn locker room, causing the hangers in the lockers to go in motion.
“He is definitely a ‘loose cannon’, Ant!” Williams spoke as he got up to stretch.
“Yeah, I know. He just needs some space to breathe. He’ll be alright. We’ll rebound from this like always.”
-----------------------------------
MAY 2ND 2013 -- THE UNKNOWN | SKIN TIME
BUT I’M GONNNAA BREAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK ....
The loud vocals screaming out of the eighties-style boombox that sat on the floor. Next to it was a swinging cage, quite the water rust on it, not a fast swing, but a slow one. Eerie slow swing as the mysterious location grows a little brighter from that of a flickering light bulb. Inside the cage is none other than that of Jair Hopkins, who’s inside with his arms tied behind him.
I’MMM GONNA BREAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK ....
Again, the loud screeching vocals coming from the boombox as little static interferes. Jair with an ultra-bitter look on his face, doesn’t even show signs of hastiness of trying to escape. He just sits there, head down somewhat as he eyes the inside of the cage. What the fuck was this music, shit if he knew ... To him it was “fucked-up, drunk, crazy ass white folks” music...
But you know what, for this day, this time, this moment. It was Jair, thinking outside of the box ...well really inside, but he’ll leave it as is. Being drove damn near to the limit and past it, the ignorance, the bullshit of what he once ignored, it was slowly eating at him. Wanting to ignore and not react, it was like a rattling kettle pot that was whistling and shaking on the brink of explosion. Two groups, Five people, it was getting to him. He wanted to go ballistic but was he wise enough to acknowledge it. Aubrey was the mouthpiece, Logan was just a fucking tudor. All of Foul Play were clones of Jason Kash. They all had ratchet faces and their breath smelled like sour buttermilk. It was to the point, Jair ... he wanted to fucking explode. Anthony, William, even Lya, being this was her homeland, neither knew where Jair was at this time. They were expecting his arrival at their meet-up location.
However right now as the raggedy boombox continued to spit out this crazy shit, Jair sat in that cage quiet as a mouse, waiting and waiting and waiting, until ...
“Ya’ll ‘blockhead’ bitches are going to pay ... DEARLY!”
Deep, deep ‘huffing and puffing’ it seemed he had been waiting for forever to say that sentence out as loud as possible.
“If you choose to wonder why I am inside this cage, a few feet off the ground, dangling side to side in a very slow “rock the boat” rhythmic pace? No, I’m not intending to play the role of that skimpy dressed ‘hoe’ Aubrey Parker ... No, I’m doing this for myself. For myself only. To keep me from out of the jail facilities here in Brazil. As I’ve read about ... these folks do not fuck around when it comes to crime. Any kind of crime, they will make you feel the worst experience of Brazil in your whole life. I’m protecting those who I will see in a matter of days. If I make it there to ‘Arena Anhembi’, there will be no soul in that arena who will stop me from doing damage. You can shake your head, roll your eyes, suck your teeth, bite your tongue, make all weird kinds of noises to ignore what I said ... You will learn. You will learn the fifth of May. Cinco De’ Mayo. You will learn that the ‘Wrath Of Jair’ is in progress.”
“You can comment that I’ve watched some unrealistic horror shit to come up with these words that are being said. Everyone will see this is something of a “joke” to try and get everyone on edge. No! No, this is not a joke. ‘April Fools’ was last month and a day ago. This is nothing to joke about. I’m not turning over a new leaf, I’m just simply refurbishing this leaf. It’s still the same person, face, smile. Just a grittier attitude. I’ve grown tired of the disrespect over the past couple of months. Not only me, but Anthony and William. We’ve grown tired of being “stepped on” by those who choose not to recognize just who we are. We may not be the flashiest or the most exotic, but we are prestigious. Folks continually state that we are a breath of a fresh air to the word “Vintage”. Others choose to say we are the exact meaning of “boring” and the likes of M&M and “Foul Play” are entertaining. I guess if you were an avid tv watcher with no active brain cells, you WOULD pick “How I Met Your Mother” over “Game Of Thrones” or the “Spartacus” series. You’d rather watch ‘dumb and pathetic’ bullshit than watch intelligent, enlightening and interesting shows. I’m not saying we’re “Emmy Award Winning” but we are better than what you so-call predict as average. We’re champions ... FIGHT-ING CHAMPIONS!”
Sitting inside the cage, he looked annoyed, pissed off not because of his current state of being, looking like a psychopath tied up but because what his brothers have done to APW, the recognition isn’t matching up equally as it should.
“They want to voice their opinions on Twitter as if the members of Dying Breed aren’t there to read their one hundred and forty character shouts. I’ve left twitter today. I tweeted out one simple message that you may think as rambling words of stupidity but as most of you fail to do ... you fail to read between the damn lines. I’ve tried the “Breathe in ... Breathe Out” exercises with Bailey. He’s done his best to try and keep me calm and focused. I’ve kept calm ... way tooo calm. Calm like a fucking BOMB!”
His eyes rolled upwards, looking at the little hanging light that sat over top of him and the cage. The music had finally died out as it remained as static the rest of the way through. However his eyes rolled up before slowly rolling back down to it’s default level.
“BOOOMMMMMMMMMMM ... the contents in the package explodes. I’m no terrorist, I’m just a man sick of sitting to side getting shitted on by you ignorant pigeons who choose not to acknowledge that I am here and that I am from the ‘streets’. I’m not Carlton. I’m not going to act, sing and dance for you to like me. I’m not the “ham” in the middle of the “bread” who’s getting ate to pieces. No, I am just tired of the bullshit. Folks want to ‘pop off’ and say that “TDB” aren’t fighting champions? They aren’t worthy of their crown? Say it to our face in those same one hundred and forty characters.”
“What was seen last week, everyone wants to think we have fell off. First, it was a Lumberjack match. Thank the lord for the good guys who came into battle. Sadly they were outdueled by the assholes that COST us the match. Yes you three ... “Foul Play”. Reaver, I swear .... Ooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
The forehead of Hopkins’s bulge outward, looking to break and overflow in any moment. He shook his head, looking downward.
“You want to be the “Big Dog” huh? You want to follow the lead of your master, Jason Kash, huh? You want to be like the fake Jesus Michael Lively is, huh? You want to be the person everyone deems crazy and dangerous. Well, you definitely get the vote for crazy, Reaver. The ‘dangerous’ part ... Not so much! You think what you did earned you major ‘brownie points’? You got the head rub, the women and whatever you, the MVP wanted for last weeks’ heroics. It’s all good. I do hope you enjoyed both your doings in that match and the high fives from your buddies. In three days, karma is going to show her ugly ass ‘mug’ and when you see it, you will not believe what is going to hit you right in your mouth. You will be the next coming of Jason Kash, appearance wise. A busted face and ‘Jerome’-like grill. You know Jerome right? From Martin? ... Yeah, you know!”
“Last week is dead news as far as our opponents go. Ellis Graham and Evan McDonald. Give your congrats to the man who gave you all the control within those final moments. Give credit where credit is due. Reaver made you bastards an overnight celebrity. That’s all you two really are. I can admit to losing. Anthony can admit to losing. William can admit to losing. We ARE NOT going to admit to losing when there was ‘meddling’. I don’t blame the ref, he can’t see everything. Ya’ll look to take advantage of situations like that. Good for you. When and IF Sierra Harrison decides that there will be a match between us four again for the tag titles ... I guarantee you, what you did last week won’t re-occur. Interference or no interference. Enjoy the ‘overnight celebrity’ status while it lasts.”
“Back to the fundamentals. Logan Alexander ... Christian Kane. Logan is a man that has all the fundamentals to be great but chooses not to when it’s time to go. Sure, he got the achievements of being half of a tag champion with a ‘psycho bimbo’ but is that really all he’s worth here in APW. Are you the bodygaurd of one Miss Parker, or are you a fucking wrecking ball who needs to start rolling. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the shit you pulled a month or so back. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that ‘rib shot’ spear in the parking lot. Those words of promise of what you were going to do to me, they all fell like leaves off a tree. They never fell through the surface. They just rotted away as you faded to the back of the line while you look to be just that of Aubrey’s “muscle”. Well Mr. Muscle, you are going to get taught a valuable lesson. Don’t fuck with a pissed off black man. Things you’ve never seen before will happen and there will be no way you or anyone can halts it’s movement. You’re older than most here, you should be quite the ‘wise’ man. Not a man getting played for every card that’s in his deck. You don’t want your half of the “M&M” to stand for “Miserable”. Do something ... Show me what you got! Either way, it’s judgement day for you, Arnold Schwarzenegger-style!”
“Christian, is there anything even good to say about you? You’ve said shit but never walked in it. I wish you luck in trying to win this. Mr. Schmidt will learn he made a mistake adding you to make this shit interesting. It’s alright, it’s okay. I understand, people who do “special” things for the boss get “special” credit. It’s all good, I’ll roll my own route to a title! You deserve nothing more than my foot in your ass. Your unfair critique will cost you on the 5th.”
“Mayweather and Guerrero may be the show stealers on the 4th of May but the next night ... They won’t just be talking about how Guererro made Mayweather eat his words. They will be talking about how the Earth stood still when Jair went like Michael Myers on his opponents, taking them out with no hesitation. You’ve been warned!”
For the first time, the whole session, a smile was seen on Hopkins face as all came to a fade.
Caged Carnage
APRIL 29TH 2013 -- CURITIBA, BRAZIL | 10:09 PM
“Fuck .... This ... SHIT!”
Scrambling like a bat out of hell, I slammed every piece of my clothing and items into my black duffel bag as I stood in my corner of the ‘The Dying Breed’s’ locker room. Anthony and William, who remained quiet as well sat in their chairs, heads down with their hands on their forehead. That was until they heard that outburst.
“I can’t take it NO more. I just can’t. I’m losing it!”
Expressive anger boiling over and out as I spoke, head down, focus on the content packing in the duffel bag. I didn’t want no conversation, none of that ‘chill talk’ shit. I was fired up. Anthony and Williams finally learned about my anger meter and just how both motivating and deteriorating it can be.
“We will get payback. They didn’t win tonight. Foul Play is going to definitely get it.” Anthony spoke as his head never raised from it’s position.
A long sigh came out of my mouth as I grew tired of the wait game.
“Hell with the waiting process, Anthony. I get it, you’re much calmer than I am. Reaver want to pull ropes. We’ll see how he can pull that motherfuckin’ rope when it’s around his neck, choking the shit out of him come Asylum!”
I could see the face of Williams as he had that “OOHH WEEEE!” look on it, hearing the outpour of expletives as I came to a finish with all of my clothes packed. Looking up at both Bailey and Williams, my brothers, I slung the bag around my shoulders, setting my white/black Nike “Swoosh” cap on my head.
“We have to think this route through thoroughly, J-Hop! I know you’re mad ... Hell, I’m mad too. I do know that when our time comes, we won’t be stopped!”
Williams speaking, he tried his best method of words to keep me calm but right now, this time, this moment. No words of comfort were going to work. I had my sight set. Asylum was coming quick as the hours and seconds passed by. Thinking routes appropriately ain’t for me this moment.
“Will, I appreciate the words of comfort man, but I’m not for it.”
“Just ... Just don’t do something you’ll regret later. You’re still not all the way recovered from that damage in the parking lot. I know you’re hot right now. We are the champions, they aren’t. They want us to decay. We can’t show any signs of dysfunction.”
“Yeah, you know Aubrey will be all over that in a moments notice. She can’t overcome the fact that we are much better than they thought. They are the number one contenders but it means nothing. We have what they want. They will never get their hands on it.” William commented after Bailey.
The frown on my face spoke loud. My eyes dimmed as I went towards the door.
“Shit with that whore, daddy long legs, blondie and those fucking cockroaches! I’m out. I’ll meet you all in Sau Paulo!”
Opening the door as I did, I closed it just as fast and as hard as it shook the damn locker room, causing the hangers in the lockers to go in motion.
“He is definitely a ‘loose cannon’, Ant!” Williams spoke as he got up to stretch.
“Yeah, I know. He just needs some space to breathe. He’ll be alright. We’ll rebound from this like always.”
-----------------------------------
MAY 2ND 2013 -- THE UNKNOWN | SKIN TIME
BUT I’M GONNNAA BREAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK ....
The loud vocals screaming out of the eighties-style boombox that sat on the floor. Next to it was a swinging cage, quite the water rust on it, not a fast swing, but a slow one. Eerie slow swing as the mysterious location grows a little brighter from that of a flickering light bulb. Inside the cage is none other than that of Jair Hopkins, who’s inside with his arms tied behind him.
I’MMM GONNA BREAAKKKKKKKKKKKKK ....
Again, the loud screeching vocals coming from the boombox as little static interferes. Jair with an ultra-bitter look on his face, doesn’t even show signs of hastiness of trying to escape. He just sits there, head down somewhat as he eyes the inside of the cage. What the fuck was this music, shit if he knew ... To him it was “fucked-up, drunk, crazy ass white folks” music...
But you know what, for this day, this time, this moment. It was Jair, thinking outside of the box ...well really inside, but he’ll leave it as is. Being drove damn near to the limit and past it, the ignorance, the bullshit of what he once ignored, it was slowly eating at him. Wanting to ignore and not react, it was like a rattling kettle pot that was whistling and shaking on the brink of explosion. Two groups, Five people, it was getting to him. He wanted to go ballistic but was he wise enough to acknowledge it. Aubrey was the mouthpiece, Logan was just a fucking tudor. All of Foul Play were clones of Jason Kash. They all had ratchet faces and their breath smelled like sour buttermilk. It was to the point, Jair ... he wanted to fucking explode. Anthony, William, even Lya, being this was her homeland, neither knew where Jair was at this time. They were expecting his arrival at their meet-up location.
However right now as the raggedy boombox continued to spit out this crazy shit, Jair sat in that cage quiet as a mouse, waiting and waiting and waiting, until ...
“Ya’ll ‘blockhead’ bitches are going to pay ... DEARLY!”
Deep, deep ‘huffing and puffing’ it seemed he had been waiting for forever to say that sentence out as loud as possible.
“If you choose to wonder why I am inside this cage, a few feet off the ground, dangling side to side in a very slow “rock the boat” rhythmic pace? No, I’m not intending to play the role of that skimpy dressed ‘hoe’ Aubrey Parker ... No, I’m doing this for myself. For myself only. To keep me from out of the jail facilities here in Brazil. As I’ve read about ... these folks do not fuck around when it comes to crime. Any kind of crime, they will make you feel the worst experience of Brazil in your whole life. I’m protecting those who I will see in a matter of days. If I make it there to ‘Arena Anhembi’, there will be no soul in that arena who will stop me from doing damage. You can shake your head, roll your eyes, suck your teeth, bite your tongue, make all weird kinds of noises to ignore what I said ... You will learn. You will learn the fifth of May. Cinco De’ Mayo. You will learn that the ‘Wrath Of Jair’ is in progress.”
“You can comment that I’ve watched some unrealistic horror shit to come up with these words that are being said. Everyone will see this is something of a “joke” to try and get everyone on edge. No! No, this is not a joke. ‘April Fools’ was last month and a day ago. This is nothing to joke about. I’m not turning over a new leaf, I’m just simply refurbishing this leaf. It’s still the same person, face, smile. Just a grittier attitude. I’ve grown tired of the disrespect over the past couple of months. Not only me, but Anthony and William. We’ve grown tired of being “stepped on” by those who choose not to recognize just who we are. We may not be the flashiest or the most exotic, but we are prestigious. Folks continually state that we are a breath of a fresh air to the word “Vintage”. Others choose to say we are the exact meaning of “boring” and the likes of M&M and “Foul Play” are entertaining. I guess if you were an avid tv watcher with no active brain cells, you WOULD pick “How I Met Your Mother” over “Game Of Thrones” or the “Spartacus” series. You’d rather watch ‘dumb and pathetic’ bullshit than watch intelligent, enlightening and interesting shows. I’m not saying we’re “Emmy Award Winning” but we are better than what you so-call predict as average. We’re champions ... FIGHT-ING CHAMPIONS!”
Sitting inside the cage, he looked annoyed, pissed off not because of his current state of being, looking like a psychopath tied up but because what his brothers have done to APW, the recognition isn’t matching up equally as it should.
“They want to voice their opinions on Twitter as if the members of Dying Breed aren’t there to read their one hundred and forty character shouts. I’ve left twitter today. I tweeted out one simple message that you may think as rambling words of stupidity but as most of you fail to do ... you fail to read between the damn lines. I’ve tried the “Breathe in ... Breathe Out” exercises with Bailey. He’s done his best to try and keep me calm and focused. I’ve kept calm ... way tooo calm. Calm like a fucking BOMB!”
His eyes rolled upwards, looking at the little hanging light that sat over top of him and the cage. The music had finally died out as it remained as static the rest of the way through. However his eyes rolled up before slowly rolling back down to it’s default level.
“BOOOMMMMMMMMMMM ... the contents in the package explodes. I’m no terrorist, I’m just a man sick of sitting to side getting shitted on by you ignorant pigeons who choose not to acknowledge that I am here and that I am from the ‘streets’. I’m not Carlton. I’m not going to act, sing and dance for you to like me. I’m not the “ham” in the middle of the “bread” who’s getting ate to pieces. No, I am just tired of the bullshit. Folks want to ‘pop off’ and say that “TDB” aren’t fighting champions? They aren’t worthy of their crown? Say it to our face in those same one hundred and forty characters.”
“What was seen last week, everyone wants to think we have fell off. First, it was a Lumberjack match. Thank the lord for the good guys who came into battle. Sadly they were outdueled by the assholes that COST us the match. Yes you three ... “Foul Play”. Reaver, I swear .... Ooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!”
The forehead of Hopkins’s bulge outward, looking to break and overflow in any moment. He shook his head, looking downward.
“You want to be the “Big Dog” huh? You want to follow the lead of your master, Jason Kash, huh? You want to be like the fake Jesus Michael Lively is, huh? You want to be the person everyone deems crazy and dangerous. Well, you definitely get the vote for crazy, Reaver. The ‘dangerous’ part ... Not so much! You think what you did earned you major ‘brownie points’? You got the head rub, the women and whatever you, the MVP wanted for last weeks’ heroics. It’s all good. I do hope you enjoyed both your doings in that match and the high fives from your buddies. In three days, karma is going to show her ugly ass ‘mug’ and when you see it, you will not believe what is going to hit you right in your mouth. You will be the next coming of Jason Kash, appearance wise. A busted face and ‘Jerome’-like grill. You know Jerome right? From Martin? ... Yeah, you know!”
“Last week is dead news as far as our opponents go. Ellis Graham and Evan McDonald. Give your congrats to the man who gave you all the control within those final moments. Give credit where credit is due. Reaver made you bastards an overnight celebrity. That’s all you two really are. I can admit to losing. Anthony can admit to losing. William can admit to losing. We ARE NOT going to admit to losing when there was ‘meddling’. I don’t blame the ref, he can’t see everything. Ya’ll look to take advantage of situations like that. Good for you. When and IF Sierra Harrison decides that there will be a match between us four again for the tag titles ... I guarantee you, what you did last week won’t re-occur. Interference or no interference. Enjoy the ‘overnight celebrity’ status while it lasts.”
“Back to the fundamentals. Logan Alexander ... Christian Kane. Logan is a man that has all the fundamentals to be great but chooses not to when it’s time to go. Sure, he got the achievements of being half of a tag champion with a ‘psycho bimbo’ but is that really all he’s worth here in APW. Are you the bodygaurd of one Miss Parker, or are you a fucking wrecking ball who needs to start rolling. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the shit you pulled a month or so back. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten that ‘rib shot’ spear in the parking lot. Those words of promise of what you were going to do to me, they all fell like leaves off a tree. They never fell through the surface. They just rotted away as you faded to the back of the line while you look to be just that of Aubrey’s “muscle”. Well Mr. Muscle, you are going to get taught a valuable lesson. Don’t fuck with a pissed off black man. Things you’ve never seen before will happen and there will be no way you or anyone can halts it’s movement. You’re older than most here, you should be quite the ‘wise’ man. Not a man getting played for every card that’s in his deck. You don’t want your half of the “M&M” to stand for “Miserable”. Do something ... Show me what you got! Either way, it’s judgement day for you, Arnold Schwarzenegger-style!”
“Christian, is there anything even good to say about you? You’ve said shit but never walked in it. I wish you luck in trying to win this. Mr. Schmidt will learn he made a mistake adding you to make this shit interesting. It’s alright, it’s okay. I understand, people who do “special” things for the boss get “special” credit. It’s all good, I’ll roll my own route to a title! You deserve nothing more than my foot in your ass. Your unfair critique will cost you on the 5th.”
“Mayweather and Guerrero may be the show stealers on the 4th of May but the next night ... They won’t just be talking about how Guererro made Mayweather eat his words. They will be talking about how the Earth stood still when Jair went like Michael Myers on his opponents, taking them out with no hesitation. You’ve been warned!”
For the first time, the whole session, a smile was seen on Hopkins face as all came to a fade.
