AMMUNITION 12.2 TRASH TALKING THREAD

Good Morning...well, not really.

I sit up, wiping exhaustion from my eyes, looking around at what I call, my personal quarters. Truth be told I need to tidy it up a bit but it seems that lately everything is taking a backseat to scouting, working...watching.

Alex O'Rion, you idiots. You see, ever since I happened to find that this assclown has been following me around, I've been a bit more awake with anger. I've got energy and I'm not sure how to use it. I proceed to the den, I must be here alone because Alex and Jessica haven't reared their happy heads in, like they usually do.

They're like the flies in my ointment.

Nevertheless, I prepare to do what it is I do. Work. I prepare to scout and study the opposition some more, and since I've about had it up to here with constantly poring over the same 2-3 matches where Butters and Slegnadamus show any sort of competence and ability of being anything that can be remotely classified as being akin to a threat, I feel that I might as well get started on Mount Vesuvius.

Life as I know it is boring, isn't it?

Of course things get a bit more interesting, as no sooner than say...15 minutes later, she walks in and sits beside me. The first thing I notice is that she's wearing my damn Joe Thornton San Jose Sharks sweater, jersey, whatever you wish to call it. I don't say anything; I'm growing incredulous at the fact that she's wearing my shit.

Only women that I have emotional attachment to and 'fornicate' with, get to wear my shit. I haven't parked my car in her garage thus she should be wearing her own clothes. Even if, unsurprisingly, my attire of choice is comfortable to her.

"What'cha doing," Karma asks mischievously.

"Working." As if she doesn't know what I'm doing. She looks to the TV, Drew Michaels is coming in at number eight. Karma scoffs as my eyes narrow. I don't like when people don't take what I do seriously. Same reason why I almost smacked down Alex O'Rion after what happened at Catalyst.

"Drew looks nothing like Bobino or Slegna. Shouldn't you be scouting them, moreover shouldn't you have all the information you need," Karma inquires. She sighs and goes to the fridge. I look back towards her.

So what if she's 17, she has a nice body but out of respect for Alex it remains unmolested.

Anyway, she takes a gulp of juice and returns back. Not sure why I even mentioned that...Oh yeah, it's my damn juice. She sits back down, stares at me all judgemental and what not. Before she can get into her spiel I interrupt her with a gruff "What, Karma?"

"Don't you think you need to lighten up? Mount Vesuvius isn't for two shows. 12.2 hasn't even happened yet."

"12.2 is a foregone conclusion in my eyes and I don't intend to be working 12.3 therefore, I need to start now. Don't question my methods."

Karma rolls her eyes. A bit of a snap comes into her voice. "I don't concern myself with questioning methods that are stupid. You're trying to prepare for a match that is predicated on unpredictability. You could use this down time for some leisure, some adult-activity, something besides being cooped up in this apartment all day and night."

"Go away, Karma," I state. My hands begin to cringe a little. You see, most of the times when she gets near me and starts yapping, my hands start twist up a bit as if I'm about to choke a bitch. it's one reason why I tape them for combat. Well that and because sometimes, you need to beat someone to sleep without breaking things. Besides, that feeling usually dissipates after I haul off and kick them in the face. It's not exactly a refined or technical process but it gets the job done, you know? I mean, SOMEONE in this house has to preserve themselves.

"No. Do something else with the time you've got. All work and no play makes Chris a dull boy."

I could play rip the clothes off of my best friend's underage niece and make sure she never wears them again but there's no winner in that particular game. I lose out on clothes and Alex O gets his ass whooped when I defend myself from his assault, so yeah, I don't play that game. I turn to face Karma, staring daggers into her form. She merely chuckles.

"You're funny when you're annoyed," she says very light-heartedly. I place the remote down on the table, stand up and start to approach her slowly.

"So you want me to do something else with my time, you say? All work and no play makes me dull, hmm?"

Karma's smile fades, as well it should. She starts to back up in her sofa, apprehension starting to fill her body. A devious smirk comes across my face as I close the distance between me and her. "What are you doing, Chris," she asks uneasily.

My hands are like claws they're so rigid. I gently grab her wrists so she can't rise up to get away. I look her in the eyes, I'm so close to her face I could kiss her if I felt like it. Next thing I know, my hands are moving all about around her soft, yet toned midsection and tears are slowly streaming down her face as the Mount Vesuvius match I was watching is drowned out by her laughter and trivial cries of "STOP! AHHH!"

What did you think I was going to do? Rape her?

Really, FMW? Really? You people are morbid. I digress.

Yes. Karma is ticklish. However, she's rather strong in her lower body as she playfully kicks me away and throws a pillow at me. I give chase as she retreats to her room all giddy. Truth be told she's still a child. Mature? Yes. Intelligent? Yes, but still a child nonetheless. I take part in her jovial airs as I manage to grab her around the waist and throw her onto her bed. She's a tomboy, kinda likes roughhousing, emphasis on the rough, but not too much.

Yeah, you deviants. I had the same thoughts you're having now. Still, if I'm going to procrastinate I might as well be doing so with a female in my grasp, yes?

Yes.

Oddly, I don't hear Alex and Jessica come in. Neither does Karma. However, Alex, when sober, hears almost like a bat. So when Karma screams "CHRIS STOP, AHHHH! TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH!" You can guess what he does.

He grabs his bat and comes running to her room growling, "YA SON OF A BITCH!"

And he bursts in at the ready, and he sees me, on top of his 'niece'. Her shirt is half-way off, stretched and her hair is mussed up and she's still laughing. I'm frozen like a deer in the headlights, still smiling.

"What's up, Alex?"

That's my icebreaker. He is not amused. He goes to charge me before Karma manages to stop him with a "We're just playing, Uncle Alex!"

"...you're what? Playing? I heard screams...what the shyte is going on?"

Jessica comes in. "Everything OK in here?"

"Peachy," I say. This situation is really funny to me because this is like the eighth time that Alex has caught Karma and me playing around. Every time he has murder in his eyes. Every time Karma and I share a laugh at Alex's expense. I chip in, "If you were this excited for FMW maybe Ammunition wins War Games". Alex cautiously lowers his bat, embarrassment fills his face.

"Shut up, b'ye," he says. He then leaves as Jessica goes after him. Karma and I look at each other. She asks, "When will he learn?"

"Probably never. He swears I'm going to do something to you."

"Ha-ha. I don't think I have anything to worry about on that front. You wouldn't do anything I wouldn't allow, friend."

"True," I say, as were both still catching our breath from our most recent 'playdate'. I tap her on her thigh, innocently and thank her for yet another moment of procrastination. I look back with a small smile and she returns it. She's right though. She has nothing to worry about for as long as she's a minor by American standards, I wouldn't do anything to her she didn't want me to. We're tight like that.

Now when she turns 18, all bets may very well be off.

I go back to the TV and decide that I'd rather watch How I Met Your Mother on DVD. I sit down, relaxed and not giving a shit about FMW at this moment.

"I'm watching you, Chris," Alex says, still trying to calm down as Jessica rubs his back in an attempt to soothe his anger.

"I know, Alex," I calmly retors. Yes, Alex. Keep watching me at your own risk. It'll be a shame if something you call 'terrible' were to happen right under your nose.

Today's going to be a good day. I'll see Karma again soon, she's going to mess with me. I'm sure of it.

Because we're tight like that.

Yeah.

...This mini-promo ended about four sentences ago. Stop reading.

Oh, I forget you simpletons need a cue to leave.

Class Dismissed.

I pull the bat out of the dry wall of the warehouse I'm currently smashing to vent some frustration. Relax, it's abandoned byes. Fucking Austin, this is the ninth fucking time I've come in to find them in some sort o' compromising position. And each fucking time they smile and giggle like a group of fucking school girls while I leave them be.

He's fucking lucky I'm not Dante.

De, he'd have ripped Austins head off and shat down the tube just for laying a finger on Karma. Probably why I haven't told him of their new "friendship" and all. I wish I could be more like him, but I have these fucking morals. Austin hasn't done anything yet, and though I can't say I trust him enough to not stop him if something happens, I want to, and this shyte he's pulling makes that harder and harder.

I smash the bat through another wall and smile as it disintegrates, some days you just need to let some steam off eh.

I wish things were this simple with my partner I really do, I don't like that the ideas running rampant in my head keep me up at night. I don't like that I worry when he's out alone, and I don't like that my fucking niece wears his clothes.

But really, you know what's really got me out here tonight breaking shyte down.

Fucker stole my thing.

Only I get to make you people waste your time reading a promo that ended three lines up.

And if he ever.

Ever.

EVER.

Does it again, I'll use his face for this.

Ha.

Alex amuses me when he's upset. Moreover it gives me hope. It shows me that there's still a fire, a spark inside of him. Unfortunately I have to bring it out of him by rough-housing with dear Karma. Hey, it's not a bad job by any stretch, but this clearly doesn't help the harmony thing that I'm trying to preach.

Anyway, so yeah. Seeing Alex knock hole after hole into the wall of this abandoned warehouse, and knowing he's visualizing my face each time warms my heart.

And I stand here after a pleased sigh, no more than 15 feet from him thinking about how he doesn't like the fact that I've taken a liking to Karma. Strictly friends, yes, but that's most due to her age. Still, I hear him grumble about how she shouldn't be wearing my clothes and how lately he always catches Karma underneath or on top of me.

I've heard him whisper to Jessica that he doesn't trust my intentions with his niece. As if I had intentions. If I did, I'd be in this warehouse with Karma now but I really couldn't imagine ruining the tag team as well as a...ugh...friendship. Still, he makes it sound like the only thing stopping Karma and I from being a couple is consummation.

Well she eats my food, she wears my clothes, and we seem to share some of the same interests. We also argue from time to time.

Now that I think about it, it kinda does sound like that actually. He might be on to something after all.

"Choke up on the bat a little, bye," I say in my best Nova Scotian accent. Alex whips his head around with a dark sneer before swinging for the fences, well anything not snow-covered in Canada. I haven't seen that look since Alex went all 'heel' and whatnot because he got tired of coming up short and being left for dead as a 'hero'.

I know the feeling.

"What in the FUCK, are you doing here Austin," Alex asks. Clearly he's unhappy. I can't blame him though. I mean I don't like that Karma wears my clothes either. But at least she has taste, if you will.

"Just checking on you, looked like you were about to blow a gasket earlier," I say without a hint of aggression. Usually I'm the serious one so to see the roles reversed is a fresh sight.

"Look, bye. I don't like what you're doing with Karma. I get it, you want to be civil. I appreciate that but everytime I turn around you two are pawing at each other. I don't fucking like it, Austin," He says coldly.

Pretty sure I alluded to him not liking it but I persevere. "Why not," I ask.

"I don't trust you around her, and you've given me a reason not to."

"Is this about that thing with Shelia? Dude, that was months ago. I was in a dark place."

"Ya still are, bye."

"I see. When's the last time I harmed a woman besides that bitch who fucked me against my will? When's the last time I went out on a two A.M. prowl? In fact, when's the last time I attacked anyone?"

Alex muses thoughtfully as his grip tightens to the point that bits of dust and wood drop from his bat handle. He wants to find something incriminating but he can't because the last time I did something remotely criminal, it was on behalf of his beloved Jessica and while things have bettered, we're not THAT tight. I killed to save her ass and he thinks I'd harm Karma, someone I actually enjoy the company of. You know, when she's not on her Dante Mark 2 spiel.

"I know, you saved Jessica but I was watching the whole time," Alex says. I grit my teeth at that but keep calm. "This doesn't change the fact that you need to find new shit to do with Karma. All of that hands-on shyte needs to stop. You're lucky I'm not Dante," Alex grunts.

"I see, so I'm lucky you're not a drunkard with a history of flaking as well as a tendency to have Karma's best interests in mind, even when you may or may not always be capable of making sure she has what she needs? Wow, you two are truly complete opposites," I say with a smirk. I take the bat from him as he mulls over that thought.

I choke up on the bat, and take a mighty swing towards the wall he was working on.

There's no more wall when the bat hits it.

I hand him the bat and pat him on the shoulder before reassuringly saying, all responsible, "Look bro. You have nothing to worry about. If you don't like the hands-on stuff, then I'll see what I can do about it."

"Good."

"...on one condition."

"Name it, bye."

"You and Jess need to stop having sex in places where I eat, mmk?"

Alex slyly grins before responding, "Yeah, I don't know about that. The girl loves her some Pride of Nova Scotia and as you well know, she's a hellcat. Hard to say I can make that happen, bye."

If I had a picture of a lion palming his face, I'd put it here because it sums up how I feel about that statement.

"OK fine. Well, Karma and I are off to play some Strip Madden. Seeing her body isn't touching it so I'm in the clear, right?"

Alex runs after me, bat raised above his head. Right before he brings it down I stop him with a "I'm just playing, 'Uncle' Alex." Then I laugh.

"Come on, Alex. Let's get a couple of beers, you could probably use them."

Alex frowns and follows after me. "Don't pull that shyte again, bye. Don't steal my thing, either."

He gets into my '67 Impala, passenger side of course. Like hell will I ever let him drive this fabulous goddess of American Muscle. After I get in, crank up and peel out, I wonder about this thing that he's talking about.

And whether or not I want to steal it.

Since, you know, it's apparently awesome judging by Alex's comments.

...

...

...Goddammit you people are stupid.

Butters simply chuckles, watching his opponents bicker back and forth as he prepared...

Waiting to pounce.

Alex and Chris are both far more overrated than they deserve, hardly ever living up to the hype. While this fact remains true, they still have more draw, more attention than he ever has, and that's what frustrates him.

"Sons, listen to me. I hate you. I really do, but I'm forced to respect both of you... and that angers me even more."

Butters watches as the two continue to fake-promos for no friggin' reason, then realizes he may be using they're own stupid amusements to distract himself from work he needs to do in other places...

Butters watches, realizing it's time to finish this, as he has other things to do.

Like win.

Or not.

Or Maybe.

Funny thing is, those two bragged about promos "that ended lines earlier"...

How do they handle ones that never even really started?

Same way they handle Butters.

By not caring, because he's just bitter that the only match he's ever even come close in was the Hayabusa Cup. And he could never win that because the majority of those are held by the people he's facing.

...

......

..........

Seriously that's all I'm saying about the guy. We may be over rated, but at least we get a rating.