NO HOLDS BARRED Trash Talking Thread

Damien, look, we're listed first! Obviously this a sign of our forthcoming good luck and not just random chance.

And by our I mean mine since I'm not the one going to get killed in an electric chair.

We can be the first tag team that's half awesome guy, half charred corpse! It'll be great.

Storm: Mr Gray, while you and your pathetic excuse of a partner Damien Inferno rave and bitch about being first and all that shit. May I remind you that GSW has three teams in this tag team scramble. Also you may have to go through myself and my trusted tag team partner.

First off, Storm, shut the fuck up. After the scramble, you'll be lucky if you have enough of a jaw left to wire shut.

Second, Nick. QUIT TELLING THEM TO CALL US THE GRAY INFERNO! We aren't some shitty alternative rock band. Shit.

Storm: Delusional fuck, may I remind you that I have two wins against you in tag team competitions? If this was a singles match, you wouldn't have a mouth.

If it were a singles match, you'd already be in the hospital. Ask Gray what happened to him when I was a member of Danse Macabre.

After the electric chair match, your buddy Dunn is gonna be renamed "Mr. Extra Crispy". That'll be one member of GSW down. It'll be fun frying him like a fuckin' chicken

And by the way, if you didn't have Dunn and Leviticus to back you up, you wouldn't have won either match.

You guys trash talk yourselves so well, doesn't really seem you need anybody to come after you.

Oh, and Nick...

No hard feelings, but it's time I make an example of someone.

IC: They say change can be as good as a holiday, and my word, have I just had a major change.

OOC: Ditto

Storm183 wrote:

Storm: Mr Gray, while you and your pathetic excuse of a partner Damien Inferno rave and bitch about being first and all that shit. May I remind you that GSW has three teams in this tag team scramble. Also you may have to go through myself and my trusted tag team partner.

Mr. What's Your Face, learn to detect when the amazing speech module called "humor" is being used, as I believe it will assist you greatly at some point in the future given that we'll likely be near each other for as long as my partner and your leader keep punching each other in the face.

Thanks for the reminder about how many GSW teams there are, I guess you thought I forgot to count, but that's cool, whatever. There is something I have to wonder about though! I mean, since you guys are all the SUPER COOLEST GUYS WHO EVER WALKED INTO AN FMW RING and all, and because the rest of us are obviously so easily removed due to your AMAZING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE, what happens when it's only you guys left! I mean, you've thought of this, right? What happens if the only people left in the ring are you and Witless, and Dunn and stupid name? Or Guy who named our team and Queen? Is there a set order of who goes out? Do you and Whitt leave so Dunn and stupid name can have the titles? Are Levi and Queen going to hop out so you and Whitt can have some gold? Are all of you in agreeance with that? Are the ones who are going to have to leave all happy about not being the ones who get the gold?

Or if it's all GSW left, do you not have a plan for that, and you all just tear into each other like a bunch of...well, a bunch of guys in tights fighting for gold? That wouldn't give the appearance of being "together against the whole of FMW", now does it!

I'm just saying, alliances are nice and all, but in matches like this, where it's every team for themselves and there's gold on the line? It's only inevitable one will break the ranks. And one is all it takes.

Damien wrote:

Nick. QUIT TELLING THEM TO CALL US THE GRAY INFERNO! We aren't some shitty alternative rock band. Shit.

...we're not? Should've told me before I started printing all these CDs!

Damien wrote:

If it were a singles match, you'd already be in the hospital. Ask Gray what happened to him when I was a member of Danse Macabre.

Uh...partner? That happened IN a tag match...

Anwyl: Well, I'm either going to be matched up with Trey Spruance, the Son of Shark Boy, Kamal, Craig Ryans, Christian Parkes, the mystery entrant or since there is an uneven number of folks, by myself!!!

Follow my lead fellas and we will walk out with the victory, maybe a partnership is what Anwyl needs to get the turn around needed.

Nicholas Gray wrote:

Storm183 wrote:

Storm: Mr Gray, while you and your pathetic excuse of a partner Damien Inferno rave and bitch about being first and all that shit. May I remind you that GSW has three teams in this tag team scramble. Also you may have to go through myself and my trusted tag team partner.

Mr. What's Your Face, learn to detect when the amazing speech module called "humor" is being used, as I believe it will assist you greatly at some point in the future given that we'll likely be near each other for as long as my partner and your leader keep punching each other in the face.

Thanks for the reminder about how many GSW teams there are, I guess you thought I forgot to count, but that's cool, whatever. There is something I have to wonder about though! I mean, since you guys are all the SUPER COOLEST GUYS WHO EVER WALKED INTO AN FMW RING and all, and because the rest of us are obviously so easily removed due to your AMAZING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE, what happens when it's only you guys left! I mean, you've thought of this, right? What happens if the only people left in the ring are you and Witless, and Dunn and stupid name? Or Guy who named our team and Queen? Is there a set order of who goes out? Do you and Whitt leave so Dunn and stupid name can have the titles? Are Levi and Queen going to hop out so you and Whitt can have some gold? Are all of you in agreeance with that? Are the ones who are going to have to leave all happy about not being the ones who get the gold?

Or if it's all GSW left, do you not have a plan for that, and you all just tear into each other like a bunch of...well, a bunch of guys in tights fighting for gold? That wouldn't give the appearance of being "together against the whole of FMW", now does it!

I'm just saying, alliances are nice and all, but in matches like this, where it's every team for themselves and there's gold on the line? It's only inevitable one will break the ranks. And one is all it takes.

Damien wrote:

Nick. QUIT TELLING THEM TO CALL US THE GRAY INFERNO! We aren't some shitty alternative rock band. Shit.

...we're not? Should've told me before I started printing all these CDs!

Damien wrote:

If it were a singles match, you'd already be in the hospital. Ask Gray what happened to him when I was a member of Danse Macabre.

Uh...partner? That happened IN a tag match...

Yeah, like GSW is going to last in the tag scramble.

That whole "us against the world" thing doesn't really pan out when "the world" could easily kick your lilly asses.

That's okay though, we will give GSW an A for effort, and the Broken Saints (Myself and Xander) will reap the rewards.

Nicholas Gray wrote:

Storm183 wrote:

Storm: Mr Gray, while you and your pathetic excuse of a partner Damien Inferno rave and bitch about being first and all that shit. May I remind you that GSW has three teams in this tag team scramble. Also you may have to go through myself and my trusted tag team partner.

Mr. What's Your Face, learn to detect when the amazing speech module called "humor" is being used, as I believe it will assist you greatly at some point in the future given that we'll likely be near each other for as long as my partner and your leader keep punching each other in the face.

Thanks for the reminder about how many GSW teams there are, I guess you thought I forgot to count, but that's cool, whatever. There is something I have to wonder about though! I mean, since you guys are all the SUPER COOLEST GUYS WHO EVER WALKED INTO AN FMW RING and all, and because the rest of us are obviously so easily removed due to your AMAZING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE, what happens when it's only you guys left! I mean, you've thought of this, right? What happens if the only people left in the ring are you and Witless, and Dunn and stupid name? Or Guy who named our team and Queen? Is there a set order of who goes out? Do you and Whitt leave so Dunn and stupid name can have the titles? Are Levi and Queen going to hop out so you and Whitt can have some gold? Are all of you in agreeance with that? Are the ones who are going to have to leave all happy about not being the ones who get the gold?

Or if it's all GSW left, do you not have a plan for that, and you all just tear into each other like a bunch of...well, a bunch of guys in tights fighting for gold? That wouldn't give the appearance of being "together against the whole of FMW", now does it!

I'm just saying, alliances are nice and all, but in matches like this, where it's every team for themselves and there's gold on the line? It's only inevitable one will break the ranks. And one is all it takes.

Damien wrote:

Nick. QUIT TELLING THEM TO CALL US THE GRAY INFERNO! We aren't some shitty alternative rock band. Shit.

...we're not? Should've told me before I started printing all these CDs!

Damien wrote:

If it were a singles match, you'd already be in the hospital. Ask Gray what happened to him when I was a member of Danse Macabre.

Uh...partner? That happened IN a tag match...

Nick, exactly how did you get recordings of me singin'?

Do you know how much a waterproof audio recorder costs?

Not as much as I expected.

Do you know how hard it is to carefully and undetectably drill a me-sized hole into your shower, plant aforementioned waterproof audio recorder, then re-making the shower floor from inside the hole?

...Me neither, I just gave the guy who fixes your cable 10 bucks to plant it when you weren't looking.

. . . . I thought he was acting weird last time I saw him.

If someone finds Gray laying inside a broken table after No Holds Barred is over, I didn't do it.

This is exactly how Phoenix Wright cases start.

Leave it to you to liken this to a video game.

Tromboner Man wrote:

IC: They say change can be as good as a holiday, and my word, have I just had a major change.

Good for you. In fact, I hope it makes you take your skill up a notch.

I hope it makes you capture the C.G. Smitten that won the FMW Championship from John 'Doc' Derrick. Not the leadup, since you looked quite vulnerable then, but the actual match itself.

This way, when I defeat you, I can frame a picture of your writhing, possibly unconscious carcass on my wall, walk by it everyday, and smile, knowing that on your best day, including your outstanding performance in a losing effort against yours truly at Death Row...

You can not beat the Student of the Game. To quote a gem of a TV show... Lawyered.

Paperwork.

Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. Everyday it seems like the damn stack gets bigger and bigger the more I actually get done.

Today’s been a long day. Started out promising when John and I went to check in on this Jessica lead. The woman’s a school teacher so we didn’t have long to chat with her.

Wouldn’t have mattered anyway, a mere mention of the Black Mambas tempered her with trepidation, insecurity. Maybe she’s having a hard time trying to get past that point in her life.

I can’t blame her, to be honest.

The things she’s seen, the thing she’s been forced to do. I mean, I’ve taken her to the station a couple times on various minor offenses.

And there was that whole prostitution thing that almost ruined what little chance she had. At least she’s made it out of that, and seems to have settled in rather nicely.

She credits that Alex O’Rion for the turnaround. He was her knight in shining armor or what have you.

Maybe it’s just me, but seems like my most important cases always involve him somehow. The Peddlers’ Pub arson, the death of his father, and now the demise of the Black Mambas… all have Alex O’Rion in common.

I still feel like there’s something I am not seeing.

Something that I’m subconsciously sweeping under the rug, there’s just something. Despite the man’s checkered past, Alex O’Rion is spoken of very highly around these parts.

Typical quality of a man leading a double life, sure, but I am not willing to bet that he was the one responsible. There are many other suspects and I do believe that the badge deserves my best effort. Besides, it all adds up a bit too easily.

You know, there’s this theory called Occam’s Razor. In laymen’s terms, it pretty much means that the simple option is the best option. Like, if you have a question, chances are that the most basic, simplistic answer is the right one.

In a way, it’s as if the solution is staring you in the face.

I don’t buy that for a second. If it were so easy, people like me wouldn’t have a job, and all criminals would be caught since the answer to the question of “Who dunnit?” would be so elementary to discover that a five-year-old could stumble across the answer.

Granted that may be a bit extreme but I’m somewhat cut and dry like that.

“I’m looking for Detective Hunter.”

Well, I guess duty calls.

Never seen this guy in my life, not sure how he knows my name. I do know one thing though… this guy needs to take better care of his hair.

Haven’t seen anything so ragged since Nana’s old mop. He also looks like he has not slept in days. Right away I notice that to be in a police station, calling officers by name and what have you, he seems far too calm.

He approaches my desk as John and I both rise to greet him. I offer my hand for a greeting.

“I’m Detective Hunter and this is my partner Detective Couture, how can we help you?”

Yikes, guy has a firm handshake. A bit colder than the norm too.

“I want to report a crime. But before I begin, what’s the statue of limitations in Canada?”

American… probably from the West. He gives off a hint of a skate punk.

“One year.”

“Good. The crime I am reporting took place last June.”

Talk about waiting until the last minute. John chuckles to himself.

“You waited a good while before coming forward, eh?”

“Better late than never. Anyway, Detective Hunter…”

“Who gave you my name, anyway?”

“Some woman named Jessica, she said you two had spoken recently.”

“You know Jessica?”

“Not that well, she dates a co-worker of mine who just so happens to had been my last roommate.”

“What’s your name?”

“Chris Austin.”

John, ever the casual wrestling fan, perks up to this. “Well looks like we’ve got a celebrity in our presence. They call you RCA right? What's the R stand for?”

“Calm down, detective. I like to keep a very low profile but if you must pry, the R stands for Ryan, my actual first name. I prefer Chris, however.”

“So, about this crime, Mr. Austin?”

“Yes.” I notice that the dry, deadpan expression twists into one of anger. I’m guessing he was the victim here.

“I want to report a rape.”

“Your name might as well be Christina or better yet Christobelle if you are saying what I think you’re saying.”

Tact is not one of John’s strong suits. Good detective, but a bit of an asshole.

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

Well, this went south. Let me try to diffuse the situation, I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.

“OK, is there anything you can tell us about the incident?”

“I know who did it, and where you can find her. I’ve come here hoping that you all do something about it before I look into taking matters into my own hands.”

“You realize that would be stupid, right?”

“Possibly, Detective Hunter, but she should not have done what she did.”

And as my stomach tightens in my attempt to not make light of the situation, I now understand why it took him almost a year to come to authorities about this. John however, is not as collected. He almost erupts into a full-blown laugh before I shove him in the arm.

“OK, tell us what you know.”

“Her name is Kylie Alexis Miller. Goes by Alex from time to time. She used to be a pre-med student at Stanford University in Palo Alto, California. Last I checked she still resides in the area.”

Well, an international incident.

Due to confidentiality issues and my personal lack of desire to embarrass the guy any more than he already is, I can’t divulge the rest of this conversation.

I will say this, it’s a killer story. Funny too.

Also of note? Given his ties to Alex O’Rion and Jessica, I’d imagine that he’s now a person of interest as it relates to the Black Mambas ordeal.

We’ll see how cooperative he is when the time comes.



OOC: I am posting this again because people need to know about this so that my next promo, which contains the aftermath of this, won't fool anyone or have anyone lost as it relates to what's happening.

So Skyler, my Holy Bossman and I recently had a talk and, well, apparently Jesus loves everyone but you. Sorry man.






And by "man", I mean "child-neglecting scumbag and general waste of carbon".

Nicholas Gray wrote:

because the rest of us are obviously so easily removed due to your AMAZING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE, what happens when it's only you guys left! I mean, you've thought of this, right? What happens if the only people left in the ring are you and Witless, and Dunn and stupid name? Or Guy who named our team and Queen? Is there a set order of who goes out? Do you and Whitt leave so Dunn and stupid name can have the titles? Are Levi and Queen going to hop out so you and Whitt can have some gold? Are all of you in agreeance with that? Are the ones who are going to have to leave all happy about not being the ones who get the gold?

Or if it's all GSW left, do you not have a plan for that, and you all just tear into each other like a bunch of...well, a bunch of guys in tights fighting for gold? That wouldn't give the appearance of being "together against the whole of FMW", now does it!

I'm just saying, alliances are nice and all, but in matches like this, where it's every team for themselves and there's gold on the line? It's only inevitable one will break the ranks. And one is all it takes.

Jonathon: You don't seem to understand, so please, allow me to explain. I'll be sure to use small words and short sentences so you can understand you damned plebeian. GSW is us against the world, no doubt, but should the inevitable happen and it's down to two or three GSW teams battling for supremacy, then we will fight as men do until the better men win. You don't need single-minded focus on teamwork to be an effective team, you need common goals, common ideals or common enemies. GSW has all of the above, and your attempts to create problems within our ranks are far from appreciated.

Drew Michaels wrote:

So Skyler, my Holy Bossman and I recently had a talk and, well, apparently Jesus loves everyone but you. Sorry man.






And by "man", I mean "child-neglecting scumbag and general waste of carbon".

Save it for the match.

Jonathon King wrote:

and your attempts to create problems within our ranks are far from appreciated.

Actually, Queen, I wasn't creating anything, just pointing out how this could fall apart for you, but then again there's nothing to worry about because you know allll your running buddies inside and out completely and truly, forever and ever and all that.

Don't worry though! I'll be sure to create problems for you in the match itself.

Omega wrote:

Nicholas Gray wrote:

Storm183 wrote:

Storm: Mr Gray, while you and your pathetic excuse of a partner Damien Inferno rave and bitch about being first and all that shit. May I remind you that GSW has three teams in this tag team scramble. Also you may have to go through myself and my trusted tag team partner.

Mr. What's Your Face, learn to detect when the amazing speech module called "humor" is being used, as I believe it will assist you greatly at some point in the future given that we'll likely be near each other for as long as my partner and your leader keep punching each other in the face.

Thanks for the reminder about how many GSW teams there are, I guess you thought I forgot to count, but that's cool, whatever. There is something I have to wonder about though! I mean, since you guys are all the SUPER COOLEST GUYS WHO EVER WALKED INTO AN FMW RING and all, and because the rest of us are obviously so easily removed due to your AMAZING NUMBERS ADVANTAGE, what happens when it's only you guys left! I mean, you've thought of this, right? What happens if the only people left in the ring are you and Witless, and Dunn and stupid name? Or Guy who named our team and Queen? Is there a set order of who goes out? Do you and Whitt leave so Dunn and stupid name can have the titles? Are Levi and Queen going to hop out so you and Whitt can have some gold? Are all of you in agreeance with that? Are the ones who are going to have to leave all happy about not being the ones who get the gold?

Or if it's all GSW left, do you not have a plan for that, and you all just tear into each other like a bunch of...well, a bunch of guys in tights fighting for gold? That wouldn't give the appearance of being "together against the whole of FMW", now does it!

I'm just saying, alliances are nice and all, but in matches like this, where it's every team for themselves and there's gold on the line? It's only inevitable one will break the ranks. And one is all it takes.

Damien wrote:

Nick. QUIT TELLING THEM TO CALL US THE GRAY INFERNO! We aren't some shitty alternative rock band. Shit.

...we're not? Should've told me before I started printing all these CDs!

Damien wrote:

If it were a singles match, you'd already be in the hospital. Ask Gray what happened to him when I was a member of Danse Macabre.

Uh...partner? That happened IN a tag match...

Yeah, like GSW is going to last in the tag scramble.

That whole "us against the world" thing doesn't really pan out when "the world" could easily kick your lilly asses.

That's okay though, we will give GSW an A for effort, and the Broken Saints (Myself and Xander) will reap the rewards.

... Yeah, ok then.

Hey, why don't I tell the nice people a secret?

What secret could you possibly tell them?

They know I kicked you ass in a barbed wire cage, and they know I fried your ass in an electric chair.

I said secret.

"if I somehow man..." and lets leave it at that.

Also you didn't kick my ass in a barbed wire match at all, you kicked Eastwoods ass.


But more importantly, good for you Seth.
But consider this; this is going to be a tag team scramble.

So, my element.
Also, with two other teams to co-ordinate.
Also, my element.

Suck it, Seth.

Your element?

I didn't realize we were in a "laying on your back until the count of three" match.

Bitch, get real...the only real threats in this match are either the Broken Saints or the Together Demons, everyone else is going to fall to the wayside because they either can't get along, or they just don't have the heart to stand toe to toe with Xander Kross and Seth Omega.

Omega wrote:

Your element?

I didn't realize we were in a "laying on your back until the count of three" match.

Bitch, get real...the only real threats in this match are either the Broken Saints or the Together Demons, everyone else is going to fall to the wayside because they either can't get along, or they just don't have the heart to stand toe to toe with Xander Kross and Seth Omega.

Maybe I missed a memo... as it is I'm not quite sure why you're wearing the dead carcass of the Broken Saints around as your new tag team name. Let me assure you, though, that nobody fears the both of you. I would bet at least $100 on you losing, if any respectable bookie would take that bet. Surprisingly, nobody will take me up on that.

So, once you've been pinned in the tag scramble, you can march your broken (see what I did there) body over to your other tag match that night. Then, you can feel the wrath of the Apathetic Choke. It's going to be a super-fun day for you!

Dead carcass?

The Broken Saints ideology was never dead, however the lack of commitment to the cause was overwhelmingly minimum. After Marky Mark left, I was stuck trying to find a balance between two guys who could give a fuck less about the Broken Saints, and Drew who wasn't really ever around because he has his own shit to worry about.

What's even more fun is, if you somehow slip up and give me an opening not only will we see The Abandoned Champion lose...but we will also see Leon get fired.

Now won't that be fun?

OOC: Mini-promo.

IC:

7-3.

Seven to three.

SEVEN TO THREE.

Class, I am not a complex man. Like most of you, I want to succeed and see things I care about succeed. Unfortunately due to the location of my upbringing, I have seemingly been cursed with the never wavering support of the San Jose Sharks coursing through my veins.

But as most of you hockey enthusiasts are aware of by now, San Jose has developed an infamous reputation largely surrounding their marvelous regular season success amounting to a glorious flame-out in the playoffs, usually to lesser or equal competition. Ironically, I once had those same issues.

And like me, San Jose appears to get over one hump. Yet they've run into another called the Western Conference Finals.

No disrespect to the Vancouver Canucks... but that was a piss-poor excuse of effort. Never mind Patrick Marleau getting dominated in what looked more like a birthday boy bashing around a pinata. Never mind the fact that Ben Eager's undisciplined trash of ice time may have been a chief reason for the power plays that the Sedin Twins were able to use to their advantage...

But I hate losing.

And when San Jose loses, I feel like I've lost.

But this? This is far too blatant to allow to escape scot-free. Someone must pay for this.

This is why I am staking out this grocery store here. You see, since San Jose seems to lack the ability to drop the hammer, i.e. step on the throat of a downed opponent, I've taken it upon myself to show how an opponent, or victim in this case, is to be properly dealt with.

I do not care if it is a man or a woman. The first person I see, in Halifax, Nova Scotia that comes close to looking like they look like the slightest bit of a Vancouver Canucks fan, I will be sure that their respective day will take a sharp turn for the worst.

Count on it.

...wait for it...

Wait for it... and...

Just my luck. It's a broad wearing a Canucks t-shirt. Oh does God find favor in me or does He find favor in me, hmm?

So I near her, I've decided that my approach will be simple. Cordially strike up some small talk, isolate, and devour.

Yes, this bitch will be the snack that prepares me for the main course that is Christian G. Smitten. Maybe my words were a little strong but you have to understand something...

That was the point, assclowns. Note to self: Add "The Shark Tank" back to employable techniques in-ring.

Never know when someone could use a good cutting off of air supply. As it were. I approach and casually position myself to kinda bump into her, she's not really paying much attention to where she's going. I go to introduce myself...

Dammit.

"Hello, Chris. Fancy seeing you here."

"Uh... Detective Hunter? Hey."

Yep, God clearly has favorites.

"Beautiful day today, isn't it?"

"I've seen nicer, Nicol-... ahem, Detective Hunter."

She smirks at me. "You don't have to be so business-like all the time. Loosen up."

"Many people tell me I should, Nicole. So, I guess you've got some time away from the desk?"

"Yeah, I'm off duty today. Decided to get some grocery shopping done. Seems like lately you and I always end up in the same place. Imagine that."

"Coincidence. Nothing more."

She does have a point though. Ever since I bumped into her during a morning run, I see her around a lot lately. I figured it was over and done with after I showed up at the station but I guess not. You know, the old me, all lovelorn and shit would probably take this as a sign to try and jump her bones but truthfully she's not worth the trouble.

She is smoking hot, though but that's a general observation.

"So... nice shirt," I state with a clear hint of malice. Now I'm back on my original point.

"Eh."

"You like the Canucks or something?"

"I'm kinda fond of them. I grew up in Vancouver so growing up they were kind of a big deal."

Damn the fact she's a cop. I take care of her, I'll have all of Halifax on my ass and honestly, since she's investigating what should be an open and shut case on my behalf its best she stick around. Not like I'm predisposed to hating people like her anyway.

Cops, I mean. I don't trust women in general but I'm not stupid enough to write them all off.

"Who's your team?"

"San Jose Sharks. Born and raised in San Jose, just moved to Canada maybe a year ago."

"Oh... well they're getting their collective asses kicked," she says matter of fact.

"Don't remind me. Anyway, I've got errands to run, I'll probably catch you around."

"I'm sure you will, I am investigating your case after all. Speaking of which, I need to ask you some questions about another case I'm working on, but it can wait for now."

"And what exactly do I have to do with anything?"

"That's what I intend to find out. If you'll excuse me, I'll be going now."

With that, she offers a cordial, yet slightly forced wave goodbye. I turn to leave but for some reason I stop. Screw it, detective or not I'm going to find a way to be better than any sort of Canuck fan. Just have to alter my approach.

"Hey, Nicole... you like racquetball?"

"It's alright. Pretty good at it actually."

"I hereby challenge you to a couple of games this weekend, you interested?"

"Sure, why not? But know this. I have no desire to date you. For one you're related to my work and two, I don't really see you as my type. You're ruggedly cute and all of that but, eh, not my cup of tea."

"Who said anything about a date? Women and I are on completely different wavelengths at this juncture in my life so you have nothing to be concerned about."

"Your mention of this weekend implied one."

"Well, I was looking for a way to rid myself of frustration and get some exercise in as I do so."

She shakes her head. I look on, straight face. Then I wonder to myself how I went from assault to racquetball invitations.

"Fair warning. Don't take it personal if you lose. I'm by far the best at the station so, it's likely you and Todd McLellan will have similar tastes in your mouths."

"I'll take that as an accepted challenge. See you at the West Point Racquet and Fitness Centre at say, 10:30."

"Alright. Also, stay safe out there. Got enough cases on my plate, Mr. Austin," she slyly slips in before leaving.

I am going to destroy her on that court, you watch. Woman must have me confused with some doughnut-inhaling patrolman that she runs circles around... Why the hell did I even come out again?

I turn away to leave and I bump into some young guy. His grimace says he's had a long night.

"Apologies," I say before trying to take my leave.

"It's alright man... uh, were you at the Pub last night, bro?"

"I'm not your bro. And no, w
hy?
"

"Dude you missed one hell of a show by the Sedins! They shredded the Sharks last night!"

Ah, that's why I came out. So I haul off and deck the ever-loving piss out of him, managing to catch him and guide him to a seated position against a wall as to not make a scene before I take my leave. I'm pretty sure I broke his teeth or his jaw one. That wasn't my intention. I was aiming for the nose but I missed so now my hand's smarting.

As I walk back to my beautiful '67 Impala... it hits me.

I haven't really played racquetball in almost six or seven years. What the fuck was I thinking?

Oh well, cram session it is.