The scene exploded into the pool area of Cody Carson’s apartment complex. And when I say exploded, I do mean it literally. Flames blew past the cameras line of vision as a man in black vinyl pants and covered with tattoos blew fire through the torch in his left hand. “Sex Type Thing” by the Stone Temple Pilots was heard blasting from the open door of an upstairs apartment. But the party itself was down by the pool. People who would have been shot in the nineteen-fifties were crowded in the patio area, all dressed in some form of skin-tight vinyl and carrying glow sticks of some sort. At times, it was utterly impossible to tell men from women. A few people were already passed out in the pool, overdosed on something or other combined with their huge amounts of alcohol intake. In a patio chair, a skinny white guy was feeling up one of the unconscious women with a grin that suggested he was most definitely still a virgin. People were screaming, singing, and generally enjoying the party; with the obvious exception of those face-down in the pool whom no one had yet seemed to notice.
Now I know what you’re thinking. Where is our host, in the midst of all this madness? Jalie, Carmen, or at the very least that sleazy piece of trash known as the AWA world champion. Truth be told, they were upstairs, in Cody’s apartment, gazing down at the hysteria with bemused expressions. That’s right folks, for once, none of them were responsible. Although, Jalie now realized she couldn’t count for one of their number.
Down by the pool, Hobo Nick had shed his coat and was donning only his tightie whities while he danced around one of the poles from a broken umbrella. Men, women, and some questionable were gathered around him, waving their glow sticks and occasionally stuffing a dollar bill into the elastic band of his underwear. Nick turned, waving his ass in what he obviously thought was a provocative manner.
“Cody, please go get him! I’m sure he’d listen to you more than he does me. Last time this happened he locked me out of my car and drove to Canada.” Back upstairs, Jalie was pleading with Carson.
“Eh, yeah. Seth never really forgave him for showing up at three a.m. blasting Whitney Houston.” Cody noted. At the mention of Seth, Cody grew silent, regretting he even said his name.
“Carson, please dude. One of the neighbors is bound to call this in and who knows whatever else Nick has on his record.”
“How can he even have a record? Nobody knows his full name, where he came from, or how he ever became homeless.” Carmen piped in.
“Prints, Carmen.” Cody said, rolling his eyes.
She glared at him. Jalie snickered. “You sure you two aren’t married yet?” She asked.
Carmen blushed. Cody, however, looked appalled.
“I saved my ass from that a long time ago… And I’ve been thanking my lucky fucking stars ever since.” He said, shivering. Now it was Carmen’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Pinche bendejo…” She muttered, walking out and going next door into her own apartment.
“What did she just call me?” Cody asked, glancing at Jalie.
“Now why would I tell you and ruin the fun?” She asked, giggling. Cody frowned, making her laughter increase until he shoved her over the back of the couch. He walked outside and down the steps; into the belly of the beast. A beast that now smelled like burnt hair, clove cigarettes and… Possibly fried chicken. Hobo Nick was now mooning his crowd of fans. Cody groaned, covering his eyes and trying to make it to him without falling into the pool. He was momentarily deterred by a man in a shiny black mini-skirt and a spiked dog collar. The attached leash was dragging along behind him. When he offered the end of it to Cody, he was kicked into the pool for his efforts… Dragged out by the leash, and kicked in again. Carson approached Nick and pulled him off the pole, hefting him over his shoulder while avoiding touching or seeing his bare ass.
Suddenly, a gunshot rang through the air, stopping the crowd dead in their tracks. A squad of eight policemen were now blocking the gate. Nick screamed, flailed, and sent both of them tumbling into the pool. Just as quickly as they had stopped, the crowd now began to scatter. Most tried barging past the cops, some tried to jump the wall around the pool, and a few followed Cody and Nick’s lead by simply leaping into the water. In the chaos, Cody and Nick managed to crawl out of the pool. The back wall consisted of a low metal fence, concealed by six foot tall hedges. Cody pushed Nick into them and struggled to shove him over the fence.
“JESUS CHRIST! STICKERS! OW!” Nick squealed.
Cody ignored him and finally managed to get him through to the sidewalk on the other side. Taking a step back, Cody made to dive through after him but was caught by a tazer directly to his ass. Being soaking wet didn’t help matters. Cody’s last glimpse through the bushes before being shoved to the ground and cuffed, was of Nick’s bare ass, running wildly away from the scene of the crime.
./scene 2\. __bail, rehab, and really expensive shoes
The cell door slammed shut on Carson’s fingers. He yelped, yanking them back and cursing. The cop was familiar, the same one whose wife Cody had a previous escapade with. Therefore, he was not exactly friendly with him.
“Well, well. We meet again.” The cop smirked.
“Ugh, dude, even if I did swing that way I am in no fucking mood to be hit on.” Cody spat.
The cop sat up, furious, but apparently decided getting up would take more effort than his tremendous rear end would allow. Cody noticed this and smirked.
“Why do they keep you on the force? Do you honestly believe you could chase someone down? Or do you just threaten to eat their children?” Carson asked, looking curious. The cop pitched a donut at Cody’s head, smearing pink frosting on his forehead.
“That’s quite the execution of justice…” Cody said sarcastically. He was pushing his luck and he knew it. But that didn’t mean he cared.
The door to the station was tossed open and in came not only Jalie, but Carmen as well. Jalie strolled over to Carson’s cell as Carmen went to speak with the policeman.
“You do realize I spend more money on your bail than I do on my own house payment?” Jalie asked him. Cody nodded.
“And you do realize the only reason I got landed here was to save your bum’s flea bitten ass?” Cody shot back.
“Aye, I do. Why do you think I’m here?”
“I thought maybe you liked me or something.” Cody said with a grin.
Jalie laughed. “You know better than that.” She smiled. “Oddly enough, though, I don’t intend on spending a penny. My darling sister has volunteered her cleavage.”
Jalie nodded to the desk, where Carmen was seated on the edge of it and leaning toward the officer.
“You know, I’ve always been attracted to men in positions of power… Makes me feel so… Helpless, submissive… Willing to serve, you know?” She purred. Cody’s mouth was agape. The cop however, seemed unable to move due to his fascination.
“Aww but, it’s so hard for me to be happy when…” Carmen gave a sad little whimper, “my poor brother is all locked up, like some sort of animal…” At this point, she broke into tears. In an instant the cop was consoling her and fumbling for his keys. Carmen gave Cody a wink then immediately resumed her sobbing.
Once outside, Cody smacked Carmen on the ass with a gruff “Thank you”. Jalie frowned.
“You may not realize this due to never being a normal child, but that’s not the way you thank your sister. Incestuous bastard.” She said, smirking.
Cody rolled his eyes. When they reached Jalie’s El Camino, Nick was still asleep in the bed of it on top of the deflated spare tire. In a strange rush of movement Cody kicked the side of the Camino and yelled for Nick to wake his ass up. However the moment he did this he had both Nick and Jalie in his face; Nick grabbing him by the collar of his tattered Pantera t-shirt and Jalie clutching him by the throat.
“Never. Kick my car again.” Jalie hissed.
“….I’m not really pissed off, I just thought it’d look cool.” Nick added before releasing him. Cody breathed a sigh of relief when Jalie let go of her grip as well. Jalie now turned to Nick.
“Did you ever call the rehab center?” She asked, eyeing him carefully.
Nick nodded meekly. “Yeah, they said there’s a start-up fee though. For my first few classes and such. At least we don’t have to pay for lodging though. I told them I have a place to stay.” As he said this, he looked at Cody with a grin. “But, the first session starts today and they won’t re-start for another three months.”
Jalie cursed. “I don’t have any cash on me…”
“That’s okay!” Nick quickly volunteered. “I don’t really NEED to go anyway. This was all your idea. I mean, I only drop X when I party, and even then I don’t always… Besides, if I’m not in classes I can hang out at Cody’s more often. Set up a dumpster there and claim the turf for the Brownside bums.”
“Hey, guess what? I’ll pay for it.” Cody shot in. He pulled two fifties from his wallet and handed them to Nick. Nick frowned slightly, but took the money. He made to walk away but Jalie grabbed his arm.
“Don’t fuck it up.” She stated. Nick nodded solemnly and walked off down the sidewalk.
“And meet us back at Carson’s when you’re done!” Jalie called after him. She knew he heard her, but he opted to ignore it due to bitterness.
Jalie and Carmen climbed into the El Camino, leaving Cody to ride in the bed.
Several hours later, Jalie was seen asleep on Carson’s couch, face down. Her baggy jeans had slid down to reveal a pair of hot pink Happy Bunny boxers. Her shirt was scrunched up, showing the large dragon tattooed across her back. Cody was seated on the couch with Jalie’s ass end and legs splayed across his lap. The front door burst open and Hobo Nick came striding in looking incredibly smug about something. Carmen stepped out of the bathroom and gasped.
“Are those… “ She trailed off as Nick nodded. Cody just looked confused.
“Are those what? What are we supposed to be looking at?” He asked.
Carmen pointed to the shiny brown men’s loafers on Nick’s feet. Cody raised an eyebrow.
“I know they look like it, but are they really…?” She trailed off again.
“No, they‘re a Gucci knock-off, but the best one I‘ve ever seen. Only ninety five bucks, can you believe it? And I even had money left for a combo meal at Del Taco.” Nick said simply. He was beaming.
Cody leapt to his feet, sending Jalie tumbling to the ground with a yelp.
“You spent a hundred dollars on fucking shoes?!” Carson demanded.
“Whuss gon’ on…?” Jalie mumbled, wiping drool from her chin and looking sleepy.
“Hey, just ask Carmen, shoe shopping is the best therapy you can get.” Nick pointed out.
Carmen was nodding in agreement but Carson didn’t notice. He was too busy keeping himself from lunging at Nick and shoving his new shoes so far up his ass he could tie his laces with his tongue.
“Hey man, relax. If you’re nice I might let you borrow them.” Nick grinned.
That did it. Cody rushed at Nick, who had sensed danger and darted out the door. Jalie ignored them and climbed back up onto the couch to continue her nap.
……….Just, fuck.
A title match? Boooooo. Why in the hell would I want a piece of scrap metal to haul around whenever I’m in the arena? Especially a piece of shit title. Although it could be worse. It could be the Fem X “championship”. Which, I’d like to point out, is probably the only thing that Rumbler would find himself successful at. I do realize the kid has the Continental title, oddly enough.
But it is the holiday season… Miracles are bound to happen lately.
My miracle would have been more along the lines of owning a penguin than getting a title shot. But we don’t always get what we want, now do we?
It was actually rather cute how you tried to intimidate me, though. And to put down my style of competing. Cute, but not very well thought out. Look at it this way kid. Do you think I would have gotten where I am today if I couldn’t handle myself in the ring? You talk to me like I’m a fuckin’ rookie, when I’m anything but. Yes, I will jump off whatever I can climb if I think it’ll inflict the most amount of damage in the smallest amount of time. Granted, sometimes I miss. But that doesn’t mean I’m out of it. Unlike most female “wrestlers” I will not go unconscious if a guy so much as bumps into me. I realize for most people, my style of fighting isn’t the best idea. They could take a big risk and lose their match, not to mention their career over it. But I have significantly more endurance than that, love. Otherwise I wouldn’t still be here. And if you think you’re going to be the one to prove me otherwise, then maybe you should have quit, because that signifies some serious delusion. So, Rumbler, I imagine you’re kind of kicking yourself in the ass right now. Wallowing in self pity, that sort of thing. You know, “Why me?”. Well, you’ll just have to fucking deal. Because you won your Continental title. And I’m not taking that from you. Consider me momentarily generous. And remember it well, too. Because it doesn’t happen every day.
What I’m saying is, I don’t want you to get all down on yourself and quit after I beat your ass. I can already tell you’re a fickle type of guy. One day you’re about to have your last match, and then you FINALLY get a call from a woman, it boosts your confidence, and you decide to stay.
Well congratulations dipshit, you may have the slightest chance in hell of finally losing your virginity.
Doubtful, but at least she’s speaking to you. So look at it this way…
When you’re bitchy and whining like a fucking housewife, remember you have your Continental championship.
And I have no penguin.