Team Page - Part Three - Fun
Oct 20, 2022 22:57:59 GMT -5
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Atara Themis, "Venom" Xavier Lux, and 1 more like this
Post by raven on Oct 20, 2022 22:57:59 GMT -5
This was supposed to be fun.
It was supposed to be a vacation; an opportunity to get away to Waikiki with my beautiful wife, to enjoy the sun and the surf, and to make an exorbitant amount of jokes about the size and shape of Johnny Hitmakers skull. It was going to be incredible, bloodier than The Silence of the Yams. More harmful to his health than a case of Tuber-culosis, and enough impact on his psyche to drive him starch raving mad.
Do you believe me? Are you starting to understand how much time I put into potato related puns?
BUT NO!
It might actually have been enjoyable to break a casual sweat against HYE’s ragtag bunch of dorks and doofuses.
BUT NO!
A cruise ship might have improved my pitiful Canadian tan. A Tropical drink on the deck as I watch Atara dip herself into the pool in an impossibly small bikini might have actually relieved some of the tension my shoulders have built up from having to support people like Joe Montouri or Sonya Benson each and every week.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… fuck you, Tara Fenix…
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Beg your pardon?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… nuthin.
I was unaware that he could hear my grumbling, and sheepishly I look away from him and out across the sands and overgrowth of a mostly private Hawaiian beach as if I was looking for something in the distance and hadn’t been talking to him in the first place… you know… like a liar.
He shrugs his shoulders indifferently.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
If you say so.
We sit quietly for a long moment. A gentle breeze drifts off of the ocean and washes over us as we sit in our folding chairs, a thin smoke trail swirling up from the joint in Chris’ hand.
Look at this mother fucker… calm, serene, enjoying himself. What a piece of shit. It’s like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How the fuck did you talk me into doing this, Chris?
He shrugs again, more casually this time.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I’m pretty sure I just asked, man.
I shake my head defiantly.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Nah. I’m fairly sure it must have been much more nefarious than that. Sinister even. I feel like… I don’t know… you manipulated me or something. Brainwashed me even.
My eyes go wide, my jaw hanging agape as I stare at Page in complete and total horror.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That’s it, isn’t it?! You MK-Ultra’d me!
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Oh Christ.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How long have I been your sleeper agent, Chris? IF THAT'S EVEN YOUR REAL NAME!!! Was it recent, or have you been waiting for this moment for a decade?!
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
… huh?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Did you brainwash me when we first met? I was young and impressionable then, it would have been pretty easy. What was I, nineteen when we first wrestled each other and twenty when I came to the WGWF to work? That’s wild, Chris. IF THAT’S EVEN YOUR REAL NA-
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Yeah, it’s my fuckin’ name dipshit! It’s always been my name! Knock it off, this shit is gettin’ weird.
My voice trails off as I stare out at the water, and eventually reach over to pluck the joint from Chris’ fingertips. He sighs and shakes his head, but says nothing as I take a deep drag and hand it back to him. For the purposes of this story, I coughed dramatically and instantly because the sweet virgin lungs of a responsible father couldn’t handle Chris’ stash. In reality, I sank deeper into my chair and felt my eyelids droop to half mast. I giggle to myself before sharing my thoughts with Chris.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How does Johnny Hitmaker win at Street Fighter?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I dunno. Mashing all the buttons?
I giggle even louder at his bad guess.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Nope, he mashes all- oh wait. Yes.
Chris shakes his head and plucks the joint back from me.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
K. No more for you.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
“That’s not gonna work for me, brother!”
He smashes the butt into the ashtray on the arm of his folding chair.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Awwwww man, Swiper no swiping!
Chris ignores me, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he turns his face up towards the Hawaiian sun. I try to sit quietly, but it’s a sincere struggle.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey Chris, what do you call Johnny Hitmaker when he tries to be a tough guy? … ha ha… give up? Ha ha… an “imi-tater”. Get it?
Chris rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, looking to his joint for help dealing with me before he realizes that he extinguished it already… in order to make it easier to deal with me.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Bro, you’ve GOT to stop with the potato jokes. You’re not exactly a stand up comedian.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Perhaps not. I just yam what I yam, sir.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
We’ve been over this at least a half dozen times since you left the team! I can’t explain this to you again!
I stare at him, equal parts miffed and shocked by his outburst.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Why so salty, French fry?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
WE’RE NOT FACING HYE! Hitmaker has nothing to do with this anymore! Now stop touching my weed, because I’m really gonna need this to stick in your head.
I continue to stare, continuing to be both miffed and shocked. I blink several times.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
‘Scuse me?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I’VE EXPLAINED THIS! Xavier Lux has explained this! Tara explained this! Hitmaker is gone! Vanished, departed, on leave… we pivoted, like, weeks ago!
What the fuck?! That’s no fun! This was supposed to be fun!
This was supposed to be a vacation; an opportunity to get away to Waikiki with my beautiful wife, to enjoy the sun and the surf, and to make an exorbitant amount of jokes about the size and shape of Johnny Hitmakers sku-
OK, now that I’m thinking about it… it DOES all sound vaguely familiar. Maybe we HAVE discussed this already…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Fucking Christ. How did you get me to do this, Chris?
I think he thinks I’m joking. He clenched his jaw and grits his teeth, steam all but rising from his head as he answers me yet again.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I… just… asked…
I stare at him expectantly, waiting for more information.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That doesn’t sound right.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
You… said… yes…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Sounds unlike me, really. Did you brainwash me? DID YOU MK-ULTRA ME?!
Chris slams his palms down on the armrest of his folding chair and forces himself up to his feet.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
That’s it. I can’t do this anymore.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Do what? I’m just asking a question…
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
That’s it. I can’t do this anymore. I asked you, and you said yes. There’s no HYE. There’s no cruise ship. It’s as simple as I can make it, James… just figure it out, it’s for charity… remember?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Welllllllll yes but I thought we meant that Johnny was part of Make-A-Wish.
I can see Chris’ face turning red with rage. I feel bad…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
OK, OK, OK… forget all the other stuff… I guess the most important question I have is… is this still going to be fun?
Chris storms away from our seats and across the beach, back towards the hotel. Ok, I lied. “Is this still going to be fun” wasn’t the most important question I had…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey! You got anymore of those joints?
He doesn’t answer me, and soon I have no choice but to turn back to the water.
Ugh.
This wasn’t going to be fun.
I’m going to keep this much shorter than you would all like me to.
I know what I’m supposed to say.
I know who I’m supposed to target.
I will go ahead and let you all know now, your regularly scheduled programming has been canceled. James Raven will not be performing in the role for which he had been billed. Contact your pay per view providers to complain if you must, and feel free to sound off on Twitter. I know this is disappointing to some of you, but this is why you need to read the fine print.
Card is subject to change.
I got bit by that clause, so sorry not sorry that you all are too.
This isn’t the bill of goods I was sold. This isn’t the arrangement that I agreed to. I could give a fuck if all of you think that I should have some burning desire to take on some last minute group of fill-in tough guys (and girls, not trying to be exclusive) from Action Wrestling. I am not bothered if any of you go home confused wondering why I didn’t have a laundry list of insults for Cory Black given our history.
I didn’t come here to prove anything to them.
Not to Reagan, not to Spencer, not to Jill, not to CJ, not to Dandy, not to Daemon, not to Bacchus… are we getting the point here? This was never supposed to be about them. This was never supposed to be about me. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not exactly out there chasing appearances these days. I say yes when there’s a reason to.
This was ALWAYS about the spud.
Sure, I could make some half hearted jokes about Detroit sports teams, or I could host a Hawaiian pig roast and invite Voorhees just for the lol’s. Sure, I could tell Cory Black that Evo IV would go differently if we did it again, or that I have some Fort of axe to grind… I could boast and brag about surviving the match last year, and talk about how doing so again would make me the de facto ruler of all things Action Wresting…
My mind is elsewhere these days. Otherwise preoccupied. My team is more than equipped to handle the jabs and the barbs, but it’s not what I came here for.
I won’t let Corey Black be a buzzkill, no matter how hard he tries.
I don’t know how much time passed. It could have been a few minutes, and it could have been significantly more. She’s waiting in the hotel lobby for me as I arrive, though, strolling through the door with a Cinnabon box in one hand and a plastic fork in the other.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey babe, Mark Flynn wanted to get cake. You’ve had Cinnabon, right? You want some Cinnabon?
Her feet are strapped into lavish heels, a pair of skin tight jeans hugging her lower half as my eyes wander from her thighs to her hips to… her baggy tee shirt of my own torso comfortably draped over her.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Where the fuck did you get that?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Seb. He said he didn’t need it until match time. It ruins his pirate regalia.
I smile at the notion of Seb in his Black Pearl outfit.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Touché on that, by the way.
She smiles, but says nothing as she studies me carefully. I scarf down several bites of my cinnamon roll, barely stopping to chew. Note, I don’t know exactly what I look like… But if I had to guess, a casual observer might confuse me with an anaconda unhinging it’s jaw to swallow a water buffalo, or Jennifer Lopez’s ass. Dated reference? Leave me alone I’m not clear headed.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
How high are you?
I freeze like a deer in the headlights.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Are you mad?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Only that you didn’t share.
I absently shove another bite of Cinnabon between my lips, and then mumble through a full mouth.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I’m sure Chris has more.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
I’ll pass.
I shove about half of the remaining cinnamon roll into mouth before holding the box out to her.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I brought you a pastry.
She sighs and shakes her head. I feel like this is a common reaction to me at this point. She takes the box from my hand, walking it over to a nearby trashcan and tossing it inside. My hand shoots out, reaching desperately as if trying to save a loved one from falling… but it’s too late… I’m too slow… it’s gone… forever…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!
I don’t realize it at the moment but I am bellowing. My voice booms and echoes through the hotel lobby, tourists and Hawaiian locals alike turning to stare at me. I can feel my face grow hot with embarrassment, and I take a few slow paces towards Atara and lower my voice to a dull growl.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That cinnamon roll did nothing to you.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
You have a match tomorrow, Dove. Do you not remember? It’s a main event. At a super show. With a team of people that you don’t want to let down and a team of enemies that you don’t want to lose to. Sugar and Chris’ secret stash aren’t doing you any favours.
I roll my eyes, turning away from her and trying to ignore the random’s around the lobby that are still staring at me. Not her too. Everyone here is so serious, so focused… so… boring.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Didn’t we agree to do this show for fun? Remember when we sat at home and joked about you pushing Jennie off of a ladder, and me super kicking Hitmaker in the name of a good deed and a good cause?
She smiles.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Yes.
I motion to her outfit.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
LOOK AT YOUR SHIRT! It’s my fucking abs! How are we not enjoying this more?! Why am I worrying about Spencer Knight and Jill Park instead of throwing Ultimate Atty face paint on you and making you scream promos at people on the beach?!
She smiles wider.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
I don’t know.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
FUCK COREY BLACK! FUCK AW! Fuck each and every one of them for turning this into a serious thing that I’m expected to give a fuck about and put effort into! THEY CANT MAKE ME! I won’t let them ruin this weekend for me! I won’t let them take away my vacation and make it into real work!
She furrows her eyebrows.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
What does your team think you’re doing right now?
I shrug.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I dunno. Training? Adjusting my strategy? Looking for a last minute edge over our new opponents?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Have you done any of that?
I laugh.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Absolutely not. I got high with Chris and went for Cinnabon, but I would argue that was a much more valuable use of time.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
How long do you have before you’re supposed to meet up with them again?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… like… an hour…
She takes me by the hand with an excited energy.
ATARA THEMIS
Ok. Do one thing that’s productive for your team with half the time, and then let’s go get a drink. We’re still going to make this fun.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… what the fuck am I gonna do in 30 minutes to help my team?
She shrugs and drags me towards the lobby door.
ATARA THEMIS
I don’t know! You’re high! Be creative!
It dawns on me pretty quickly. I’m actually stunned that I didn’t think of it sooner.
Corey Blacks secret weapon.
The thing that bails him out every time.
We just take that away from him, and the rest of its easy right?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Ok, but how do we kidnap Torture on such short notice?
Atara and I both wink to the audience through the fourth wall, Deadpool style.
Too much?
Meh. We can all laugh about it later.
ATARA THEMIS
Easy! Let’s go!
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
HANG ON! Let me grab that Cinnabon from the trash!
Fuck ya’ll.
All of ya’ll.
Nobody notices the screaming and pounding from our trunk as we park the rental outside and make our way inside the bar, hand in hand, practically skipping. I stare at her with adoring eyes as she cackles gleefully, spinning gracefully around the doorman as we make our way inside.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
You’re right. That was disturbingly easy.
ATARA THEMIS
And it only took seventeen minutes!
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Looks like I’m meeting up with the team sooner than expected, though.
I motion across the bar, and she turns to spot Xavier Lux sitting alone.
ATARA THEMIS
Awwwww he looks so sad.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
He’s a sour fuck.
ATARA THEMIS
Let’s go sit with him.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Don’t you fucking dare! Vacation! Fun! Remember?! I don’t need Xavier Lux dragging down what little time I have with you before I have to go deal with… ugh…
I shudder.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Corey.
She sighs.
ATARA THEMIS
At least send him a drink.
I consider it for a moment before waving the bartender over and whispering in her ear… they give me the lookout deserve because I’m immature.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
What?! He looks like he needs one!
I told Tara I’d let them down. I told her she should have taken me out.
Oh well.
Tell the good lord I said “fuck, it was fun.”
FADE
TO
BLACK
It was supposed to be a vacation; an opportunity to get away to Waikiki with my beautiful wife, to enjoy the sun and the surf, and to make an exorbitant amount of jokes about the size and shape of Johnny Hitmakers skull. It was going to be incredible, bloodier than The Silence of the Yams. More harmful to his health than a case of Tuber-culosis, and enough impact on his psyche to drive him starch raving mad.
Do you believe me? Are you starting to understand how much time I put into potato related puns?
BUT NO!
It might actually have been enjoyable to break a casual sweat against HYE’s ragtag bunch of dorks and doofuses.
BUT NO!
A cruise ship might have improved my pitiful Canadian tan. A Tropical drink on the deck as I watch Atara dip herself into the pool in an impossibly small bikini might have actually relieved some of the tension my shoulders have built up from having to support people like Joe Montouri or Sonya Benson each and every week.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… fuck you, Tara Fenix…
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Beg your pardon?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… nuthin.
I was unaware that he could hear my grumbling, and sheepishly I look away from him and out across the sands and overgrowth of a mostly private Hawaiian beach as if I was looking for something in the distance and hadn’t been talking to him in the first place… you know… like a liar.
He shrugs his shoulders indifferently.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
If you say so.
We sit quietly for a long moment. A gentle breeze drifts off of the ocean and washes over us as we sit in our folding chairs, a thin smoke trail swirling up from the joint in Chris’ hand.
Look at this mother fucker… calm, serene, enjoying himself. What a piece of shit. It’s like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How the fuck did you talk me into doing this, Chris?
He shrugs again, more casually this time.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I’m pretty sure I just asked, man.
I shake my head defiantly.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Nah. I’m fairly sure it must have been much more nefarious than that. Sinister even. I feel like… I don’t know… you manipulated me or something. Brainwashed me even.
My eyes go wide, my jaw hanging agape as I stare at Page in complete and total horror.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That’s it, isn’t it?! You MK-Ultra’d me!
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Oh Christ.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How long have I been your sleeper agent, Chris? IF THAT'S EVEN YOUR REAL NAME!!! Was it recent, or have you been waiting for this moment for a decade?!
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
… huh?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Did you brainwash me when we first met? I was young and impressionable then, it would have been pretty easy. What was I, nineteen when we first wrestled each other and twenty when I came to the WGWF to work? That’s wild, Chris. IF THAT’S EVEN YOUR REAL NA-
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Yeah, it’s my fuckin’ name dipshit! It’s always been my name! Knock it off, this shit is gettin’ weird.
My voice trails off as I stare out at the water, and eventually reach over to pluck the joint from Chris’ fingertips. He sighs and shakes his head, but says nothing as I take a deep drag and hand it back to him. For the purposes of this story, I coughed dramatically and instantly because the sweet virgin lungs of a responsible father couldn’t handle Chris’ stash. In reality, I sank deeper into my chair and felt my eyelids droop to half mast. I giggle to myself before sharing my thoughts with Chris.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
How does Johnny Hitmaker win at Street Fighter?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I dunno. Mashing all the buttons?
I giggle even louder at his bad guess.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Nope, he mashes all- oh wait. Yes.
Chris shakes his head and plucks the joint back from me.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
K. No more for you.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
“That’s not gonna work for me, brother!”
He smashes the butt into the ashtray on the arm of his folding chair.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Awwwww man, Swiper no swiping!
Chris ignores me, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes as he turns his face up towards the Hawaiian sun. I try to sit quietly, but it’s a sincere struggle.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey Chris, what do you call Johnny Hitmaker when he tries to be a tough guy? … ha ha… give up? Ha ha… an “imi-tater”. Get it?
Chris rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, looking to his joint for help dealing with me before he realizes that he extinguished it already… in order to make it easier to deal with me.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
Bro, you’ve GOT to stop with the potato jokes. You’re not exactly a stand up comedian.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Perhaps not. I just yam what I yam, sir.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
We’ve been over this at least a half dozen times since you left the team! I can’t explain this to you again!
I stare at him, equal parts miffed and shocked by his outburst.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Why so salty, French fry?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
WE’RE NOT FACING HYE! Hitmaker has nothing to do with this anymore! Now stop touching my weed, because I’m really gonna need this to stick in your head.
I continue to stare, continuing to be both miffed and shocked. I blink several times.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
‘Scuse me?
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I’VE EXPLAINED THIS! Xavier Lux has explained this! Tara explained this! Hitmaker is gone! Vanished, departed, on leave… we pivoted, like, weeks ago!
What the fuck?! That’s no fun! This was supposed to be fun!
This was supposed to be a vacation; an opportunity to get away to Waikiki with my beautiful wife, to enjoy the sun and the surf, and to make an exorbitant amount of jokes about the size and shape of Johnny Hitmakers sku-
OK, now that I’m thinking about it… it DOES all sound vaguely familiar. Maybe we HAVE discussed this already…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Fucking Christ. How did you get me to do this, Chris?
I think he thinks I’m joking. He clenched his jaw and grits his teeth, steam all but rising from his head as he answers me yet again.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
I… just… asked…
I stare at him expectantly, waiting for more information.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That doesn’t sound right.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
You… said… yes…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Sounds unlike me, really. Did you brainwash me? DID YOU MK-ULTRA ME?!
Chris slams his palms down on the armrest of his folding chair and forces himself up to his feet.
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
That’s it. I can’t do this anymore.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Do what? I’m just asking a question…
CHRIS PAGE:[/u]
That’s it. I can’t do this anymore. I asked you, and you said yes. There’s no HYE. There’s no cruise ship. It’s as simple as I can make it, James… just figure it out, it’s for charity… remember?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Welllllllll yes but I thought we meant that Johnny was part of Make-A-Wish.
I can see Chris’ face turning red with rage. I feel bad…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
OK, OK, OK… forget all the other stuff… I guess the most important question I have is… is this still going to be fun?
Chris storms away from our seats and across the beach, back towards the hotel. Ok, I lied. “Is this still going to be fun” wasn’t the most important question I had…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey! You got anymore of those joints?
He doesn’t answer me, and soon I have no choice but to turn back to the water.
Ugh.
This wasn’t going to be fun.
I’m going to keep this much shorter than you would all like me to.
I know what I’m supposed to say.
I know who I’m supposed to target.
I will go ahead and let you all know now, your regularly scheduled programming has been canceled. James Raven will not be performing in the role for which he had been billed. Contact your pay per view providers to complain if you must, and feel free to sound off on Twitter. I know this is disappointing to some of you, but this is why you need to read the fine print.
Card is subject to change.
I got bit by that clause, so sorry not sorry that you all are too.
This isn’t the bill of goods I was sold. This isn’t the arrangement that I agreed to. I could give a fuck if all of you think that I should have some burning desire to take on some last minute group of fill-in tough guys (and girls, not trying to be exclusive) from Action Wrestling. I am not bothered if any of you go home confused wondering why I didn’t have a laundry list of insults for Cory Black given our history.
I didn’t come here to prove anything to them.
Not to Reagan, not to Spencer, not to Jill, not to CJ, not to Dandy, not to Daemon, not to Bacchus… are we getting the point here? This was never supposed to be about them. This was never supposed to be about me. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but I’m not exactly out there chasing appearances these days. I say yes when there’s a reason to.
This was ALWAYS about the spud.
Sure, I could make some half hearted jokes about Detroit sports teams, or I could host a Hawaiian pig roast and invite Voorhees just for the lol’s. Sure, I could tell Cory Black that Evo IV would go differently if we did it again, or that I have some Fort of axe to grind… I could boast and brag about surviving the match last year, and talk about how doing so again would make me the de facto ruler of all things Action Wresting…
My mind is elsewhere these days. Otherwise preoccupied. My team is more than equipped to handle the jabs and the barbs, but it’s not what I came here for.
I won’t let Corey Black be a buzzkill, no matter how hard he tries.
I don’t know how much time passed. It could have been a few minutes, and it could have been significantly more. She’s waiting in the hotel lobby for me as I arrive, though, strolling through the door with a Cinnabon box in one hand and a plastic fork in the other.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Hey babe, Mark Flynn wanted to get cake. You’ve had Cinnabon, right? You want some Cinnabon?
Her feet are strapped into lavish heels, a pair of skin tight jeans hugging her lower half as my eyes wander from her thighs to her hips to… her baggy tee shirt of my own torso comfortably draped over her.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Where the fuck did you get that?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Seb. He said he didn’t need it until match time. It ruins his pirate regalia.
I smile at the notion of Seb in his Black Pearl outfit.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Touché on that, by the way.
She smiles, but says nothing as she studies me carefully. I scarf down several bites of my cinnamon roll, barely stopping to chew. Note, I don’t know exactly what I look like… But if I had to guess, a casual observer might confuse me with an anaconda unhinging it’s jaw to swallow a water buffalo, or Jennifer Lopez’s ass. Dated reference? Leave me alone I’m not clear headed.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
How high are you?
I freeze like a deer in the headlights.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Are you mad?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Only that you didn’t share.
I absently shove another bite of Cinnabon between my lips, and then mumble through a full mouth.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I’m sure Chris has more.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
I’ll pass.
I shove about half of the remaining cinnamon roll into mouth before holding the box out to her.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I brought you a pastry.
She sighs and shakes her head. I feel like this is a common reaction to me at this point. She takes the box from my hand, walking it over to a nearby trashcan and tossing it inside. My hand shoots out, reaching desperately as if trying to save a loved one from falling… but it’s too late… I’m too slow… it’s gone… forever…
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO?!
I don’t realize it at the moment but I am bellowing. My voice booms and echoes through the hotel lobby, tourists and Hawaiian locals alike turning to stare at me. I can feel my face grow hot with embarrassment, and I take a few slow paces towards Atara and lower my voice to a dull growl.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
That cinnamon roll did nothing to you.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
You have a match tomorrow, Dove. Do you not remember? It’s a main event. At a super show. With a team of people that you don’t want to let down and a team of enemies that you don’t want to lose to. Sugar and Chris’ secret stash aren’t doing you any favours.
I roll my eyes, turning away from her and trying to ignore the random’s around the lobby that are still staring at me. Not her too. Everyone here is so serious, so focused… so… boring.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Didn’t we agree to do this show for fun? Remember when we sat at home and joked about you pushing Jennie off of a ladder, and me super kicking Hitmaker in the name of a good deed and a good cause?
She smiles.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Yes.
I motion to her outfit.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
LOOK AT YOUR SHIRT! It’s my fucking abs! How are we not enjoying this more?! Why am I worrying about Spencer Knight and Jill Park instead of throwing Ultimate Atty face paint on you and making you scream promos at people on the beach?!
She smiles wider.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
I don’t know.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
FUCK COREY BLACK! FUCK AW! Fuck each and every one of them for turning this into a serious thing that I’m expected to give a fuck about and put effort into! THEY CANT MAKE ME! I won’t let them ruin this weekend for me! I won’t let them take away my vacation and make it into real work!
She furrows her eyebrows.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
What does your team think you’re doing right now?
I shrug.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
I dunno. Training? Adjusting my strategy? Looking for a last minute edge over our new opponents?
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
Have you done any of that?
I laugh.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Absolutely not. I got high with Chris and went for Cinnabon, but I would argue that was a much more valuable use of time.
ATARA RAVEN:[/u]
How long do you have before you’re supposed to meet up with them again?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… like… an hour…
She takes me by the hand with an excited energy.
ATARA THEMIS
Ok. Do one thing that’s productive for your team with half the time, and then let’s go get a drink. We’re still going to make this fun.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
… what the fuck am I gonna do in 30 minutes to help my team?
She shrugs and drags me towards the lobby door.
ATARA THEMIS
I don’t know! You’re high! Be creative!
It dawns on me pretty quickly. I’m actually stunned that I didn’t think of it sooner.
Corey Blacks secret weapon.
The thing that bails him out every time.
We just take that away from him, and the rest of its easy right?
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Ok, but how do we kidnap Torture on such short notice?
Atara and I both wink to the audience through the fourth wall, Deadpool style.
Too much?
Meh. We can all laugh about it later.
ATARA THEMIS
Easy! Let’s go!
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
HANG ON! Let me grab that Cinnabon from the trash!
Fuck ya’ll.
All of ya’ll.
Nobody notices the screaming and pounding from our trunk as we park the rental outside and make our way inside the bar, hand in hand, practically skipping. I stare at her with adoring eyes as she cackles gleefully, spinning gracefully around the doorman as we make our way inside.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
You’re right. That was disturbingly easy.
ATARA THEMIS
And it only took seventeen minutes!
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Looks like I’m meeting up with the team sooner than expected, though.
I motion across the bar, and she turns to spot Xavier Lux sitting alone.
ATARA THEMIS
Awwwww he looks so sad.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
He’s a sour fuck.
ATARA THEMIS
Let’s go sit with him.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Don’t you fucking dare! Vacation! Fun! Remember?! I don’t need Xavier Lux dragging down what little time I have with you before I have to go deal with… ugh…
I shudder.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
Corey.
She sighs.
ATARA THEMIS
At least send him a drink.
I consider it for a moment before waving the bartender over and whispering in her ear… they give me the lookout deserve because I’m immature.
JAMES RAVEN:[/u]
What?! He looks like he needs one!
I told Tara I’d let them down. I told her she should have taken me out.
Oh well.
Tell the good lord I said “fuck, it was fun.”
FADE
TO
BLACK
