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Price of Pain
Topic Started: Dec 15 2016, 04:14 AM (30 Views)
Jake
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Let's get one thing perfectly clear before we even property kick this little shindig off…

I ain't JC Keeton, I ain't the Saint, I ain't any second generation wrestler you ever heard of for that matter.

I never grew up with dreams of wanting to do this. I ain't here for honor, tradition, or any other bullshit cliche.

I prefer rap cliches, I'm here for money, bitches, and fame. It's as simple as that.

It doesn't hurt that I'm really good at hurting people and I enjoy causing pain.

Not in the sick self pleasuring way some around here do but there's nothing that makes me smile like the feel of a bone snapping.

Which brings me to victim number one, guy goes by the name CG3. I don't know what it stands for and I honestly could give a shit less. He's nameless, faceless, and useless as far as I'm concerned.

He's the deer in the headlights of this run away semi going 80 down a steep grade with no breaks.

There's not one single thing about you that makes me think you have a snowball's chance in hell of beating me, CG3. I'm bigger, stronger, and a hell of a lot meaner.

Your claim to fame is co-holding a title that doesn't even exist anymore. You're not even good enough to hold some third tier title no one cares about by yourself. I won a title in my first professional match. My first match EVER and I was a champion.

You're about the size of the average quarterback and I made a name for myself in college by putting quarterbacks on the shelf. Some never played again.

I never felt the first ounce of remorse about what I did to them and hurting them wasn't even what I was trying to do. I was playing my position and it just happened. At Salvation I'm supposed to hurt you on purpose.

And I'll gladly do it with a smile.

Lucky for you you're financially able to pay the best doctors in the world to put you back together when I'm done trying with everything in me to cripple you. Whether I do permanently injure you or not you should probably contact those closest to you just in case I go too far.

After all, someone has to identify the body.

Ya know, just in case.

“Damn Kitty, you're killing me tonight..”

Spencer Vain, dressed in a black tank top and jeans, sat on a couch with his hands folded behind his head as a stunning blonde with obviously enhanced breasts grinded her firm backside against his crotch while the sounds of “Pussy Control” by Prince played loudly in the background.

Kitty: Aw, Spence you’re making me blush.

Spencer: Please, I know you well enough to know it takes more than that for you to blush.

As the song ends she stands up and picks her black see through dress up from the couch beside Spencer and covers her exposed breasts with it.

Kitty: Yeah you're right, sometimes I forget who I'm talking to. Do you want another one?

Spencer looks down at his watch then back up to Kitty.

Spencer: Na, I need to go find Freddy and let him know I'll have his money by the end of January.

Kitty: Yeah I heard that you have a big fight coming up on January 28th, me and a bunch of the girls were talking about it backstage before we started our shifts tonight.

He nods as he reaches for his wallet and pulls out two crisp twenty dollar bills and sticks them in the garter around her upper thigh.

Spencer: Yep, but I'm doing double duty. Fighting and wrestling, got a match in a few days actually.

Kitty: That's awesome babe! You're not gonna move off again like you did last time you were wrestling are you?

Spencer: Yeah.. I'm afraid so. That's something else I gotta tell Freddy. I won't be able to work security on Friday and Saturday anymore.

Kitty: Oh no…

She bends down and grips his package firmly.

Kitty: Well you make sure you call me before you leave Tampa, I can't let you get away without getting me some more of that.

Spencer smirks as she leans in and kisses him. The scene fades and reopens with Spencer standing in front of a sleazy looking middle aged black man sitting at a desk sucking on a cigar as he counts the stacks of money in front of him.

Spencer: We need to talk Freddy…

Freddy doesn't even look up from the wad of bills in his hand.

Freddy: Talk, I been waiting on you to say something since you walked in here looking like you're guilty of something. What? You get another one of the girls pregnant? I'll add the cost of the abortion onto what you already owe me.

Spencer: No no.. Nothing like that this time. It is about the money I owe you though. I'll be able to pay every bit of it back by the end of January. I got a fight and a deal to wrestle.

Freddy just grumbles under his breath still never looking up.

Freddy: So what's that means for you bouncing?

Spencer: I ain't gonna be able to do that anymore Freddy.

Freddy: That's fine Vain but mark my words if you fuck me over on this and I don't get my money by the end of January you'll be throwing drunks out of my club til you're as old and broken as your crack whore mother.

Spencer grits his teeth and clinches his fists but refrains from acting on the thoughts running through his head.

Spencer: I'm gonna leave on that note, you'll get your fucking money…

Spencer walks out of the office slamming the door behind him sending cash flying off of the desk as the scene fades.
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