War.

[Zasshu II]

ROUND TWO!!!!!

Scars and Strips, Mason and Killian, the two biggest, baddest bitches in the whole mahuckin’ world! The key word there is bitches because as far as the Brothers Black, the Age of X is concerned, that’s all ya two are.

A couple a bitches.

That’s why we owned ya asses two weeks ago and threw Mason off the fuckin’ stage fifteen feet straight down onta the concrete an by the way Mason, how’d it feel!? How’d it feel to get man handled like the lil’ bitch that you are. Remind ya of your time in the military, getting’ treated like a foul mouthed bitch!

Son, I served my country too an let me just say ya make me goddamn sick. The way ya take every ass beatin’ is a disgrace to this country, our flag an what it means to be an American.

Get the fuck out.

Nah, seriously, get out. Head on over to France where they all lay down at the first sight of trouble because that’s what you is to me, the livin’, breathin’ embodiment of France. An I goddamn hope that pisses you off boy, cause it should. Proud American like yaself should be fumin’ from the ears, mostly because you know it’s true. An this Sunday at Danger Zone the Brothers Black goddamn prove it.

Them belts, they don’t belong to you. Ya got lucky when you pried them outta our hands. There wasn’t no skill about it. 

Pure luck.

An now, this time around, we takin’ back what’s rightfully ours because we the best goddamn tag team in the history of professional wrestlin’. Two time mafuckin’ champions, longest mafuckin’ reign in the history of the company, ain’t novody comparin’ to our pedigree!

SO LAY DOWN!

Lay down like the lil’ bitch that you is and fuckin’ deal with it. Take it, ya fuckin’ sluts. Take it and like it because the Brothers Black, we ain’t playin’ around, this ain’t no game, by hook or by crook we takin’ what’s ours and we gonna do it be throwin’ both ya’ll suckas off that scaffold!

Mason, ya already know what it’s like to get tossed by us but now Creed is gonna learn to. Ya don’t fuck wit us.

An Creed, pay close attention boy because shit is about to get real here. Up until this comin’ weekend ya just been costin’, ridin’ the wave of ya partners double cross but this weekend the roosters come home to roost when we finally get our revenge. See, ya don’t cross the Age of X an ya sure as hell don’t take from the Brothers Black. Now I know ya guilty by association, god knows ya ain’t smart enough to be the master planner in that lil team a yers that’s why I’m givin’ you an out.

Get the fuck outta dodge befor ya get hurt Creed.

We just want our belts back an Mason St. Croix as bloody as humanly possible, that’s it. After that we head back to our locker room and wait for the next two bitches dumb enough to step up to the plate. So think about it, think about yer future, because that’s what’s on the line Creed.

Ya got a woman Creed, she loves ya, don’t let that filthy lil skank live the rest a her miserable life without ya.

Leave Mason to us, give us our belts an get ya scraggily ass the fuck outta our company!

It was a cold day in Georgia, colder than usual for this time of year. The weather had been all over the place lately, ice storms coming in from the ocean and making things extremely frigid. Eddie Black pulled the collar of his black dickies jacket up and around his neck, his head covered by a black skull cap, he shivered a little as the wind picked up but for the most part tried to ignore.

The bell above the door at the corner diner chimed as he opened it, it made him smile just a little bit. He had a lot of happy memories of this place, coming here with his did, brother and some of the other old timers, listening to them talk about the work week. His dad still sat in the same corner of the place, right by the window so he could watch who came and went, he smiled and waved to Eddie, the picture perfect image of a southern man, he thought, thick flannel shirt, slightly loose jeans and a good pair of work boots. Eddie’s dad stood to give him a hug as he walked up.

Eddie’s Dad: Hey boy, how ya been?

Eddie: Alright…

Eddie’s dad shook his head like he didn’t really believe his boy as the two men took their seats across from each other. A middle aged woman with white hair came by and filled up their cups with coffee which Eddie immediately took a sip from to chase the cold away.

Eddie’s Dad: I don’t really believe ya boy.

Eddie kind of rolled his eyes knowingly at his dad and nodded.

Eddie: Yep, well wrestlin’ ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

Eddie’s Dad: Ain’t nothin’ worth doin’ easy.

Eddie: Yeah, well I didn’t exactly expect what I got.

Eddie’s Dad: What’d ya expect?

Eddie didn’t readily have an answer, he didn’t honestly know what he expected, he just didn’t expect this.

Eddie: I don’t know…

Eddie’s Dad: Tell me somethin’ boy, do ya believe in what yer doin’?

He looked up from his cup of coffee to his dad, the rugged man with the grey beard and brown eyes, he looked like an older version of Eddie, a little leaner of build but nearly a look into the future.

Eddie’s Dad: Do you believe in this Angel Blake?

Eddie: I used ta…

Eddie’s Dad: Then that’s all ya really gotta know ain’t it?

Eddie: Ain’t that easy pah, the man is crazy.

Eddie’s Dad: Boy, I been watchin’ ya wrestle since you was a youngin’ an not once in all them years I ever seen ya take anybodies shit, not even mine, so why ya gonna go an start takin’ it now?

He knew his dad was right, the time for following was over but Angel Blake, God as he liked to be called was a mad man and he had friends in high places, friends Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted to cross.

Eddie’s Dad: Boy, ya gotta do what ya think is right, if followin’ Angel is what ya gotta do then do it but if it ain’t? Well then, fuck’em.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, his dad’s bluntness had always been funny to him, even as a kid.

Eddie: Yeah, heh, good advice now let’s quit talkin’ about this mopey shit an order some food.

His dad chuckled at him and nodded as he waved to the waitress to come over and take their order…

Ah damn, here we go again.

Scars an Stripes vs the Brothers Black for the Tag Team Championship of the World in a Scaffold Match.

Wish I could say I was excited by the prospect but honestly I’m disgusted. See, you two never deserved the shot in the first place. Only reason ya got it is cuz that spot light lovin’ whore Mason turned his back on God. Bitch never earned shit, Berto just saw a big money match an cashed in.

I know, sounds like a lot of sour apples on our part but the fact of the matter is it’s the goddamn truth. You two ain’t no team, you ain’t champions. Ya just a couple a opportunists. So congratulations on that much, getting’ lucky an all is a real accomplishment. Know what else is an accomplishment?

Punkin’ you two out every week for the last month.

Beatin’ yo bitch asses like ya owe us money.

That’s an accomplishment, that’s something to be proud of, that’s what we’re puffin’ our chest out over because that’s what the fuck has been happenin’. Every week you been champion is another week the Brothers Black have shown why we are the most dominant an feared tag team in the history of this company. Yo two don’t even come close, ya don’t measure up, ya ain’t nothin’.

An we proved that shit when we took Mason St. Croix and sent his ass through some tables, we proved that when we left Killian Creed countin’ the lights, we proved that shit!

So now we get our rematch, we get our shot at our belts an you better believe their comin’ home boys. See, you two, ya both half way good wrestlers, hell, I’m sure ya real stand up guys but us? The Brothers Black? We fuckin’ dangerous. We’re rabid fuckin’ wolverines with the scent of blood. See, seein’ ya lay there bleedin’ out like a couple of stuffed pigs before a roast, that’s just wet our appetite.

WE COMIN’ FOR THE KILL!

We ain’t just lookin’ to beat you, we ain’t just lookin’ to get our belts back, we lookin’ to send a message to all the other bitch ass teams in the IWF that if you step to us ya better prepare for war because we will KILL for our belts. We take tag team wrestlin’ seriously, this ain’t just some mutual fuckin’ circle jerk until the two of us find somethin’ better to do. 

THIS IS WHAT WE DO!

This is our life’s, ya two are just playin’ tag team, pretendin’ to be brothers, pretendin’ to be a team with a cute lil’ name an t-shirts.

The Brothers Black, we are tag team wrestlin’, we are the rightful fuckin’ champions an we are goin’ to end yer lil’ reign at the top an send ya both all the way back to the bottom where ya belong.

Literally.

Then once we got our belts back we gonna finish what God started an end ya creers, not because he commands it but because we just don’t like ya.

Don’t count the seconds, just kiss ya loved ones an prepare for Hell because the Brothers Black are a mafuckin’ wreckin’ ball an ya’ll are next in line!

Frank is sitting backstage before Danger Zone, he’s already dressed and ready to go, he’s just his head bowed, having a quiet moment before the war that is about to take place. Eddie walks in next to him in his hear and pats him on the back as he takes the seat next to him.

Eddie: Ya ready?

Frank looks over to his big brother with a toothless grin.

Frank: Gotta do what we gotta do.

Eddie: Hell yeah, brother.

The two brothers share a fist bump before getting up and heading out of the locker room… Tara Fenix stands in the shadows, her figure mostly hidden but her face visible and framed by her raven black hair. Her blue eyes glare in the direction the Brothers went as we are left to wonder what their ready for…