URBAN CHAOS

Scenes open as two men stand in front of an overweight old white man tied to a chair. Two black wrapped up handkerchiefs muffled his yelling. He has on a white wife beater and light blue boxers. He was clearly taken out of his bed or before he went to his bed. His face is slightly red from yelling so long. Both men have on black ski masks and long sleeve black shirts with black pants. One of the men bends down and looks the man straight in the eye and the other one folds his arms with an intimidating stance. The old man can be seen sweating his ass off as the bright but almost broken light above him shines down. Around them is the inside of an old and probably abandoned factory. This old guy? The judge that would decide the fate of my finances and the man standing with his arms folded? Shorty. The guy who is staring the judge down? Me.

Anthony: Let me explain something. I hate you…but I’m not here to kill you unless you would like me too. There is a court case coming up between Mister and Mrs. Anthony Thomas. She wants money…a lot of it. You make sure she doesn’t get to see most of it and you’ll live. See, you might not die tonight if you don’t go through with it…but what about your sweet little girl, Cherry? Or maybe you’re son, Jason? Oh…Did I forget your wife, Lacey? What happens to your kids when they go to school? What happens to your wife when she goes shopping? You can decide that tonight. See, there is three ways to go about this. You can agree to help Mr. Thomas in court and you’ll live. You cannot agree to help Mr. Thomas and have your family tortured for the rest of their natural lives. You can tell the police about this and have your family murdered. Now is that shaking you’re doing a “yes”?

Judge: Ye…ye…yes.

Anthony: Good boy. Now if you were to go back on your word, things won’t settle too well for you and your family.

Shorty: Ready to go now?

Anthony: Yeah, let’s go.

I quickly stuff the handkerchiefs back in his mouth as Shorty opened the trunk of the car. We dragged the chair, with him on it, all the way to the car. After taking a quick breather, we heaved him into the back of the trunk and closed it. We quickly get in the car and Shorty drove off. It was raining heavily but if you had looked into my eyes as I drove to the judge’s house, you could tell it didn’t matter if it was broad daylight. We took off our masks as we made our way from Central New Jersey to South New Jersey. There were a million and a half things that could go wrong on our way there. Nothing did. Amazing, huh? We parked in front of his house and quietly put him out in front of his doorstep. I never had to run so damn fast to a car in my life. We got in and drove off like a bat out of hell. We finally got back to Shorty’s house.

Shorty: We’re home! Hello? MJ? Janet?

Anthony: Damn, where is everyone?

We walked through the hallway as Shorty opened the door to the master bedroom. There his wife was asleep peaceful as ever. As we came closer to the door down the hallway, we heard several grunts. Shorty looked back at me with a confused look but all I could do was give him the same confused look. The grunts got louder as we moved closer and closer to MJ’s room. Shorty knocked on the door and the grunts immediately stopped. The door opened to a sweating MJ with no shirt on. He only had on a Knicks basketball shorts. We, of course, pushed his skinny ass to the side and went into the room. He had one large barbell. Looks like he had been working out all afternoon for his Armed and Dangerous match. Not bad. I walked back to the living room as Shorty told MJ to get some sleep. MJ nodded his head and Shorty left the room. We both took a seat in the living room.

Shorty: The adventures of Shorty and Glacier, ha-ha. It’s been awhile since we did that.

Anthony: Damn straight. Let’s hope this works. I don’t feel like going to jail to say the least.

Shorty: I can’t afford to go back, not after all these years and I don’t wrestle anymore so my federation can’t even get me out like they usually do.

Anthony: Ha-ha, I hear that.

Shorty: I see you’re still giving others headaches. I feel bad for this Cherry kid.

Glacier: Feel bad for him? He’s an idiot. He deserves every bit of the ass kicking I’m going give his lackeys. Trust me, they have it coming as well. Yeah, I lost to Grenier…and what? Trust me, now it’s go time between me and them. What is better than having every single jackass who thought it was smart to lie on his back and take it in the ass by Cherry in one match so I can kick all their asses in one shot? I’m ready to rip and run through them. I really could care less for Davis. My eyes are set on Grenier and Hodges. Once I get rid of those two clowns, Cherry is my number one target. People always told me I was the reason for the misery I caused. I could easily sit my ass down and act right, I instead take the hard way and speak out against whoever says retarded shit regardless of their position. I’ve been doing that since I was thirteen and I don’t plan to stop anytime soon regardless of how many people Cherry sends after me.

Shorty: As far as Hodges go, that little punk and his friend James Exeter got into MJ’s face and mine before MJ took some time off. I want you to beat respect into his ass.

Glacier: That won’t even be a problem not to mention I’d think Michaels and Hudson would like their hands on him as well. Either way, I got to go man. Heading to California tomorrow to check out the new venture Green and me got going. We’ll talk later, all right?

Shorty: Yeah. Be safe, man.

Anthony: You know I will.

I left and slept over Alexis’ house. Next morning I found myself at the LAX airport wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt underneath it. I rolled my suitcase along and headed outside the airport building. I called for a taxi and it pulled up. I quickly got in and told the driver the address that Green e-mailed me. He drove me to the place; I paid him, and got out with my stuff. Green said for me to meet him here but all I saw were a few construction men and bulldozer. I looked at the site, which stood right in front of the beach. We had decided we would make a club named “Stoners”. Well…what did you expect? His name is Chris Green and he loves pot. I would financially back it as well as help him run it if I were ever in the West Coast. I saw that they had already laid the foundation. It looked pretty damn huge but hey, clubs should be. I swore I could hear my name being called then I turned around to see Green walks to me.

Green: Yo, Glace. What’s up?

Anthony: Nothing much, just was checking out what you’ve done with the place.

Green: Ha-ha, hell yeah. Dude, it’s going to be awesome. I have people lined up for miles wanting to be the first people in the club for the club’s opening. I’m going to need you to do me a solid and show up for that. You know that I’m currently retired from wrestling and what have you so I need you to bring your star power. Hell, bring Shorty and Shorty Jr. as well. We’re going to need as many big names as possible. I want this to be one of the biggest clubs in all of California. “Stoners” will rule.

Anthony: “Stoners” will rule? Hmm…that must be the last thing a conservative Republican would want to hear.

Green: Ha-ha. Yeah but they can’t stop us. No one can. This shit is so official; you made your way out from Jersey to come here. Anyway, isn’t Breakdown in Cali this week?

Anthony: Yeah but I’m not booked. I decided to skip straight ahead to the pay per view; Armed and Dangerous so did Junior.

Green: Junior?

Anthony: Shorty Jr.

Green: Oh, yeah. My bad. Tell you what, I’ll drive you back to my place and let you get yourself settled. Then we can drink some beers and talk about the future of “Stoners”.

Anthony: All right, sounds like a plan.

I put my suitcase in the back of his car and got in the front passenger seat. He got in the driver’s seat and we drove off. After a bit of driving, we finally reached back to his mansion. Every time I show up here, I’m speechless. How one college drop out pothead made himself the richest man in the world by throwing down a verbal then physical bashing on his opponents has to be the greatest story I’ve heard. But look at me…I came from a single parent home and held pent up hatred for my dad for YEARS. I took it out on those who even snickered around me. Look where it got me. It got me years of successful wrestling and, of course, in a whole lot of hot water. I went into one of the guest rooms with my stuff. Once I had gotten settled, I came downstairs to the living room. He still had the scantily clad servants. No surprise there. As I took a seat, he threw a beer my way. I caught and plopped on the couch.

Green: I see, since our last talk, you got yourself in a deep hole. Bro, you’re fighting with the owner? He could fire your ass.

Glacier: And get himself such a painful ass kicking that he wishes he had been fired from day one? He’s stupid…but he’s not THAT stupid. Not to mention, have you been on SCW.com? The board of directors are lighting a fire up his ass. He’s losing his power and once it’s taken right from underneath him…I’ll be right behind him ready to smash his head in. That’s why I love sticking around when shit like this goes down…because once it all ends, I end up beating someone’s ass into a near death experience for the shit they caused. It’s called “picking up the scraps”. Trust me, there will be more than enough scraps to be scooped up after Cherry loses his power. It is obvious as shit Cherry would never hold on to it for long but he did screw up something I wanted to do, indirectly. He whined to the Board of Directors to get Silkk kicked out and that isn’t good for me.

Green: Silkk being kicked out? How the hell is that NOT good?

Glacier: He was the last member of Syndicate I had to beat. I would have defeated all of them, minus Junior. Out of respect for Shorty, I don’t put my hands on Shorty Jr. With that, I’ve pretty much lost count of how many times Cherry has tried to screw me over. But it’s nothing because when I get my hands on him, nothing will matter except him trying to survive the beat down I’m going to give him. If he can survive that, he can survive anything including a nuclear explosion. Well, he’d die eventually because it would only be him and roaches left. Then again, he looks like a roach so he’d fit in just perfectly. His friends are as good as dead too. It’s pretty damn “cliché” if you ask me…the whole “dissemble the lackeys” then “get the man”. I don’t even think he is that deserving to have lackeys. Those idiots should work for me, maybe they would actually get somewhere in SCW.

Green: Fuck SCW. “Stoners” is the place to be. It’s going to be awesome, man. This will be the most badass club in all of California.

Anthony: It better be, I got a fortune riding on it. I still don’t see why we had to call it “Stoners”.

Green: What? What did you want to name it? “The Icicle”?

Anthony: No but “Stoners”? That’s just asking for trouble from the police. I don’t want to be brought down to California every other week to be interrogated. I don’t need to know every five minutes someone is smoking weed in the club. I got other things to handle like my divorce.

Green: Not my fault. I warned you about being married. Women are nothing but bitches. They are meant to clean, cook, and fucked. I can’t believe you tried to train one to be more than that.

Anthony: Man…

Green: What?

Anthony: You are unbelievable at times.

Green: Shit…I’m Chris “By God” Green. You better damn well believe the shit I say because I’m not shitting when I say things. Someone with your intelligence and talent shouldn’t be wasted. She flaunts you around to her friends until she gets tired of you. Then she finds excuses of why you’ve “changed”. After that? She divorces you, takes your money, and finds her a boy toy to go play with in the Bahamas. There is no pussy good enough on this earth to fuck me over. You should treat them how they should be treated. I’ve been doing that for years and I never had a woman problem yet. You need to simplify shit like me. Drive cars. Fight Guys. Fuck Girls. How much easier is it than that? I can’t understand why you feel the need to complicate shit. Screw kids. All they do is take your money later on in life. That’s why there is birth control and condoms. You do know that you are the source of your own misery?

Anthony: Heh, that’s what they tell me.

I smirked over at my annoyed buddy as scenes fade away to black.