Let Us Melt Anartica ...
Now I'm "Back A-gain", just like flash was
Bad like Shaft was, react like Cassius...
Clay did in the ring with his back up...
Against the ropes, jab, jab, back up
It's all for what, it's all for us, all for bucks
You chumps remind me of Mister Softee chucks
"Back Again"
"From Me To U " - Juelz Santana
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Revenge Of The Syndicates
by Ricky Tyler - New York Times (Sports)
With everyone else loving the recent destruction of the Syndicates on that Tuesday Night. Many have no clue just to what their in store for. A major whiplash from the Syndicates who will surely by in the house Sunday Night in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. It won't be Brett Favre they'll see, but Syndicate Inc. they will see majority of the night. On a night like that, revenge is to be aimed for. Two title matches that could change hands by the end of the night, with Michael Carrington taking on Greg Cherry for the United States Gold, and Shyne (Not Rapper Shyne) taking on Jay Gold for the Underground Title.
The other two members, Jeremy Diaz, and Juan Ramirez taking on in single matches gaining ultimate revenge for their poor showing on the recent Breakdown. Juan will surely try to thaw out Glacier, as Jeremy Diaz will intend to pound down on The Real Speed. So much to watch out for, but limited time. If you look into each of the Syndicate member's eyes, you can see their fierceness about to boil over and cause a meltdown. They never said being the best would be an easy mission, did they? Who knows what will happen. All I can say, is by the end of the night, it can make or break this unique and majorly gifted team. Will they get revenge or will they adhere under the rock once more and become the New York Giants of wrestling. Only time will tell ...
Revisiting.Bad.Habits.
October 11th 2007
8:35 PM
Location: Harlem, New York
[ :| The northeast region had begun to feel the preview of winter with the blistering coldness and forceful winds. Leaves covering the corners and parts of the streets as Autumn was now in effect getting the trees bare-naked. Juan went back home, New York after taking that severe, punishing loss to Jay Gold at Breakdown. Juan needed to replenish himself after being on the road for a couple of weeks. Staying in a lavish hotel suite, Juan sat in his room, a red bubbled vest, zipped all the way up with a pair of jeans and a red Nike' fitted cap. He sat on the edge of the bed, as he began to squinch a little via the slight back pain. He looked at his cellphone, as he was frustrated to the bone. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: That punk ass bitch got lucky, but he also got a death wish…
[ :| He went to reach for the cellphone, as he cried in pain as the mental note struck his mind and his bones. He shook his head as he knew he'd have to strengthen up quickly before the PPV event. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Man, this shit sucks … bad! I need some healing. I wonder what Ricky Williams would do?
[ :| Juan flipped open his cellphone, as a pop up came on the screen which was a voicemal alert. Pressing the button and holding it to his ear, you could still hear it loud as fuck. |: ]
Voice: Yo man, this your boy MC … just seeing if you were alright. Fuck last night, pretend it never happened. We gotta' be big at Tactical Terror. We gotta' Terrorize them fuckers. You got Glacier, Shyne has Jay Gold for the Underground title, and I got that bitch Cherry for the U.S Gold. Be easy, homie. Peace!
[ :| Juan just glared at the walls with a smirk, biting his lips, as he just let his head fall down, as he placed his arms on his lap. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Nice way to rub that in, Mike …
[ :| Juan looked around, confused, bored, and banged up. However boredom stood over the fact that he was in terrible pain and back spasm. He looked around again, only to realize, shit wasn't happening. Juan suddenly flips back open the phone as he goes through a set of list with contacts, mostly filled with chicks, then Carrington, Shyne, and Shorty, then his boy, Chase'. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Hmmm ….
[ :| Juan then held it up to his ear as it begun to ring. Juan stared up to the ceiling while he waited for it to be picked up. After several rings, it finally picked up. |: ]
Voice: Who is this?
Juan Ramirez: Who you think it is?
Chase': Juan? Oh shit holmes … What's good, son?
Juan Ramirez: Pain … Pain … Pain! Look, you busy bro?
Chase': Nah, I'm just shaving up this charming face … what's up?
Juan Ramirez: How does catching some air and rollin' some blunts sound to ya?
Chase': I haven't had one of those in a bit …
Juan Ramirez: Yeah I know, same here. Being on the road, and then being caught up with it, as it killed that relationship with the ex-girlfriend.
Chase': Yes it did. She was hot as shit too, son. Fiery red-heads, can't get any better. Also you know they catching down on you all that's doing Mary Jane' you know, right?
Juan Ramirez: Nope.
Chase': Well they cracking down on our asses, the reason why I havent smoked a good one in a while. Anyways, where you gonna be at?
Juan Ramirez: Behind New York Fried Chicken on 5th and West Street.
Chase': Aight, I'll be there in thirty…
[ :| Juan flipped the phone back over, as he raised himself off the end of the bed in easing fashion. As the muscles and bones cracked. Juan became furious and furious. He wiped his eyes before yawning. Re-straightening his cap, grabbing key card before heading to the door. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Here I come …
[ :| Juan exited out of the room, as he flipped the light switch, cutting the lights off in the room. Juan closed up and headed out. Even in pain, the joy of old pleasures couldn't take him down. Although enjoying the pleasure was a revisit to his old habits before he slowed down. The scene faded. |: ]
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[ :| It was still cold as shit. You could see most standing, shivering like hell, as the breezy air was blowing. Juan was there as said, behind the New York Chicken restaurant as he waited on his buddy. Juan caught a head start as he began rolling himself one up, while he awaited his partner. Doing so, as he threw his hood that was connected to his red vest over his head and cap, keeping the breeze from smacking him on the back of the neck. Juan grabbed the cigarette lighter, sticking the blunt in his mouth, he lit. As the refreshing smell of Mary Jane, Juan smiled with ease, like the song “Joy and Pain”, Juan was feeling joyful, as he took several puffs. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: That bitch is always late … fuck, I ain’t waiting on him!
[ :| Juan looked on, before taking another hit. Coughing a few times, Juan waved it off, as he leaned on the wall, as he just enjoyed it. |: ]
--__--__--__--__--__ An Hour Later …. __--__--__--__--__
Juan Ramirez: That fucking wimp …
[ :| Juan was still standing there up against the wall as the fresh fumes of chicken grease made quite the impact as you could hear several voices from the front chatting around. Juan took a few more drags before stretching his legs and walking a few steps. As Juan stepped out from the back parts of the alley, the lights smacked him right in the eyes as he was a little wobbly and blurry, taking the effect that MJ had begun to give him. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Turn down those fuckin’ lights …
[ :| Juan stepped out a little further, putting his hands in the direction of the light, somewhat trying to block it, in his other hand, he still held the blunt with his two fingers, but as he did that, the lights of red and blue circulated back and forth as the siren popped on. Juan tried to get a clearer vision, but saw nothing but blurriness-like. Taking the note of the siren, Juan dropped the blunt, and took off down the street like as if he was Marion Jones. |: ]
Juan Ramirez: Man, not this shit ….
[ :| Juan running for cover, ditching and trying to dodge the cops, well cop. The morely athletic one was on the chase, the other one couldn’t dare run a mile, so the chances of Juan being double-teamed was somewhat slim. Juan continued running as all he could do was simply … |: ]
Juan Ramirez: SHHHHIIIIITTTTTTT ……
[ :| Juan, although under a buzz, showed no signs of loss in awareness. He was a half-block off the cop. You could hear the siren circulating around the block. Juan moving like Mike Vick, moving, dodging, hopping, sliding underneath, even with a hurt back. Being chased by the “Po-Po” would make pain fade away for the time being. Juan tended to look behind him as he turned the corner, thinking that he finally had the chance to breathe. However he kept running until … well until … |: ]
Juan Ramirez: FUCCCKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!
WHAMMM!!!
[ :| The other cop was smart, blocking off Juan’s escape route as Juan ended up laid out on the cold, gritty concrete, as his eyes were rolled into the back of his head. The athletic cop picked up Juan as he smirked at him. |: ]
Cop: No more running now, punk! Put both hands on the hood of the car, and stretch your legs apart …
[ :| Juan did what was asked as he couldn’t go nowhere. If he tried, he knew he’d take a bullet. Shaking his head, the cop checked over, making sure there wasn’t any sort of weapons in his possession. The cop grabbed Juan and shoved him forward, almost stumbling and falling again. The officer opened the back door on the car, as he shoved Ramirez in head-first. The officer smirked before shaking his head. The car took off as the scene faded out. |: ]
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[ Grilled Cheesayyy' ]
Colder Than Ice ; Hotter Than Magma
Like a repaired vehicle coming out of Jiffy Lube, I'm straight fucking set. You see, taking those few chairshots, thanks to Mister Jay Gold, IT'S MADE ME MUCH "CRAZIER". You see, I was okay at first, but he had to just update me a tad pinch. Now I can really show what the fuck Juan Ramirez can do. Who else better to experiment on then the ice cube-shaped head himself ..
Glacier ..
I've got my taste for some ... ice cold water. See Glacier, you've been on a non-stop roll of dominating the ranks lately. It's time I turn down the setting on the freezer, if you catch my drift. This is the first, and this will be the last you will see my extraordinary skills head-on. You're good, but I'm a "triple-threat". You will never know what you get. More like some of those amazing backs' in football who can run, catch, and pass. Not just one time, but many times when needed. Those are what you consider play-makers. I am what you consider a play maker and a money make
You Can't Win This ..
I am pretty much in another state of mind, Anthony. I'm done with playing the usual games with punk kids like you who think they are something special. You've taken down two of my team mates, I'm not going to be the third, kid. So you can sit there, mope around and look like an ass if you want, but I'm going to obliterate you and gain whats mine. This is your chance to show whether you're just that good, or just a damn joke. You're undefeated right now. My goal is to do just that, make you de-featable.
I Told You .... You Can't Win This ...
I came after you for a reason, Anthony. It was the simple fact to test whether you'd react to it, or not. You're going to have to step it up against me. I want your best. If not your best, your greatest effort at confirming yourself as SCW's icon. I'm already an icon. Everywhere I've been, I've been an icon. A record don't consider you as an icon or better. I've seen ones that didn't have impressive records in the win/loss column and was HoF'ers. Fuckers today are built out of ego. They think they're the greatest fucking thing on Earth since the toaster. I need no great record to be a "monster" or rather unstoppable. Those that believe they can win every match every night, aka Greg Cherry, but when they lose, they cry like a fucking bitch with a cucumber rolled up their asses. I build off losses and increase my skills. Sitting and pouting is not for me.
I'll Tell You Again ... You Can't Win This ...
So don't cry Anthony, win you get your ass busted wide open from one of my nice haymakers or uppercuts. Just simply thank yourself and thank God for keeping your ass out of Intensive Care. Be aware, be very aware. Say your prayers and eat your vitamins, and hope you can come out of this one, not completely melted.
I Am Your Jason, You Are My Bitch!
I'm coming armed, chain saw and all. I'm going to have a special tool in which I stole from out of a warehouse a long while ago. A tool many automotive body shops have when they have cars with huge dents and holes, that need to be pulled out. I have my trusted tool considered as "Nigga On The Rope", It's something that once I throw at you, you'll fall to the bait, and you're hooked. I pull and pull, you're not getting off. No matter how hard you try, I WILL RIP YOUR BITCH ASS TO SHREDS .... By the time I'm finished, you'll be Shrek's little twin brother.
This is what I do, Glacier. I am like Barry Sanders at this shit. More moves than a damn chess expert. I may have taken a cheap loss to Jay Gold, but with anger, retribution and motivation, it'll be a tough test for you to overcome. Trust me on that. If you don't watch your step, you'll end up on your ass easily.
CHECK-MATE!
Fade.To.Black
