Mr. S£im Citrus

November 5, 2004 Johnny Dangerous and Dominic LeCroix are seated in a Waffle House outside of Durham, North Carolina, waiting for their orders to arrive. While Dominic stares out the window, lost in his own thoughts, Johnny is looking at his friend’s new body art in wonderment. Over the course of the last seventy-two hours, young Dominic’s body had become adorned by several tattoos: across his throat is a one-inch braided pattern resembling a rope, drawn in roughly the same area as where he had placed a noose only a few days previously. Across his right shoulder and down his back is a thin black outline bordering the scar from his reconstructive surgery, made a necessity by a vicious attack at the hands of Mike Van Siclen several months ago; written vertically to the left of the outline are the words “n'oubliez jamais, ne pardonnez jamais” in bloodied text: “never forget, never forgive.” Across his back, a weeping angel, surrounded by the faces of Henri, Diana, Marius and Lillian. On his left bicep, the LeCroix family crest. Suddenly, Dominic turns his attention back to his friend. “What?” The sound of Dominic’s voice sends Johnny blinking out of his trance. “Just wondering when you became so morbid, is all.” Dominic looked away, struggling to fight down his emotions. “De day after Jeanne touched down in Morgan’s Bluff.” Realizing what he’d just said, Johnny hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry, dude. I didn’t mean to bring it up.” But Dominic merely waved his hand dismissively. “It was an honest question; I guess you can say that I’m not the same happy kid that I was before… But I do thank you for bringing me over here, Johnny. I don’t t’ink I’d have been able t’ deal with my grief back in Andros; I was surprised by how much better I felt just getting t’ throw some of those trainees around.” “Well, you might feel better,” Johnny said with a grin, “but I’ll bet some of those kids weren’t feeling so great afterwards.” Dominic replies with a shrug. “It’ll help them in de long run, eh? Dey need t’ learn how t’ take bumps sooner or later.” “I have to admit,” said Johnny, “I was surprised by how well you were moving around in the ring, considering how long you’ve been out.” “Well, you didn’t t’ink dat I just sat around for eight months, did you? I mean, I have been keepin’ in shape.” ‘Ah,’ Johnny though to himself. ‘The opening I was hoping for.’ “You get to wrestle much in Andros?” Dominic shrugged noncommittally. “Not really; jus’ a bit here an’ dere. Marius had wanted to become a wrestler, an’ I’d been training him, but not much more den dat.” “Speaking of which,” Johnny began, looking back over his shoulder before reaching into his jacket, “I found this next to Marius’ grave that day I went looking for you. Do you happen to know how it got there?” Dominic was slow in responding, staring at the object in Johnny’s hand before finally saying, “I was wondering where that went… I know how it got there: I put it there.” “That so?” “Oui.” Johnny nodded his head, and then remained still for a few moments longer before continuing. “So, does that mean that you were…?” Dominic nodded his head, answering before Johnny could complete his sentence. “Oui… Well, not de whole time.” This caused Johnny to raise his eyebrow in interest. “Not the whole time?” “Well,” explained Dominic, “At first, I was on… a little fact-finding mission, an’ I’d asked Marius to perform in my stead. I must say dat he did pretty well, wouldn’t you?” Johnny nodded in the affirmative. “Without question. But why didn’t you…?” Once again, Dominic began to answer without waiting for the whole question. “It wouldn’t have been prudent, at first. It was important for me t’ be able t’ operate in secrecy.” Johnny cringes in response. “That hurts, man. I can’t believe that you didn’t think that you could trust me.” Dominic shook his head. “It wasn’t about trust; I couldn’t ask you t’ put your plans on hold to help me out. You were about to become de World Champion… I couldn’t ask you t’ abandon dat t’ help me out.” Before Johnny could reply, the waitress returned with their food. The two decided to abandon the topic and enjoy their meals. Some time later, Dominic looked up from his plate at Johnny and asked, “So, what was going on between you and my sister?” *AAAAACK!* Caught off-guard, Johnny chokes on a bite of his waffle; Dominic looks on with interest as the Barracuda struggles to clear his throat. “Lilly and I had a platonic relationship.” Dominic didn’t respond verbally, but simply raised a questioning eyebrow. “Okay… mostly platonic.” Dominic raised his eyebrow even higher, a feat which one wouldn’t have thought possible. “MOSTLY platonic?” Johnny raised his hands in a placating manner. “I treated Lilly with nothing but respect at all times, ‘Nic! Come on, man; you know me!” “Dat’s right… I do know you…” “Nic…” “She was seventeen, Johnny.” “Nothing happened, I swear,” says Johnny, raising his voice slightly in frustration. “I mean, I’m sure you noticed that we got along well, and you know I thought she was a great girl, but come on, Nic; you know I’d never sneak around with your sister behind your back… I have more respect for you than that; I had more respect for her than that!” Dominic still looked unconvinced, but he chose to let the matter drop. Johnny, only too glad to change the subject, spoke up quickly. “So… have you given any more thought to getting back into the ring?” Dominic sighed loudly. “I’m not sure; I mean, it won’t be de same anymore... I may not ever be able to get dat high from de fans cheers dat I used to. On de other hand, when we were working out wit’ dose trainees, it was de first time in weeks dat I haven’t thought about my family…” There was a long pause, and Johnny began to open his mouth to reply, only for Dominic to continue. “I dunno if I want t’ go back t’ de fed…” Johnny nodded, disappointed but understanding, and looked down at his plate. Both were silent for several seconds longer. “… But, I t’ink I might actually need t’ go back.” Johnny looked back up in surprise. “Are you sure about this?” Dominic shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe it’ll be some kind of physical therapy, or something.” Johnny smiled feebly. “Well, in that case, let’s get out of here, bro; we’ve got to get practicing if we want to get back in sync.” Johnny and Wildchild paid their bill, remembering to leave a generous tip for the waitress, and headed back out to their rental car. END

Don't knock it; I've made a career out of writing on the day of.

Sierra Mist; furthermore, I don't find 7up, Sprite or Sierra Mist to be similar tasting at all. But, I'm weird when it comes to soda: I could identify a lemon-lime soda in a blind taste test, but I honestly can't tell the difference between Pepsi and Coke.

Well, now that everyone's had a good laugh at me and Johnny's expense, could I trouble any of you to offer some non-assholish feedback?

My ship gets underway next month for deployment before the PPV; if I find myself having time write anything whatsoever, it's definitely not going to be anything as complex as a Clusterfuck match.

It was time… The moment had come… Dominic LeCroix, more famously known to the world as the Wildchild, took a deep breath of air into his lungs as he stared at the noose that he held in his hands. Exhaling, his eyes slowly followed the length of the rope towards the ceiling where he had tied it off around a support beam, and then back down at the rope in his hands. The whole setup was rather ill-fashioned, but it was strictly meant to get the job done and to finally bring peace, it didn’t need to be pretty or elaborate…and it certainly wasn’t. ‘Finally, all of da LeCroix’s will be together…in harmony,’ he thought morbidly. His eyelids, heavy from days on end of little to no rest, closed as he begun to let a final reflection of his life run through his mind, for the very last time. A reflection that would have been more accurately described as him going over the series of events that would lead to him stumbling upon his family, all void of life, when he finally returned home. His mother, Diana, called his cell phone when he was still in the states, worried about her son’s safety, even though there was a hurricane right over her own head. He was nowhere near the storm, and yet her concern didn’t strike him the least bit as odd. Even with his extensive acrobatic training from the circus, she was always so worried about his safety. Despite the fact that he’d performed more death-defying feats as a child, she lived in constant fear of her eldest son having a fatal accident in the ring. Every time he climbed to the top of a ladder or a post, she’d cover her eyes, terrified that her son would land on his neck. “Don’t worry, Mama,” he replied calmly, when she called. “I’m nowhere near dis storm. It’s you guys I’m worried about—Dis’ hurricane is right on top of Andros! Is Lilly safe?” “Marius picked her up yesterday, an’ helped your Poppa board all de windows up, so don’ worry about us. We’ve weathered many storms worse than dis; we’ll be jus’ fine.” “Good,” said Dominic, smiling. “Den neither one of us has to worry about the other, we’ll all be jus’ fine. Jus’ like always.” He opened his eyes, looking towards the heavens as tears rolled down his cheek. ‘Jus’ like always,’ he thought bitterly. ‘How could I have been so naïve?’ He awoke the next morning and flipped on the morning news, a routine that had become common practice during his numerous travels of the globe. Horrifyingly enough, the biggest news was that the hurricane had ravaged through the Bahamas the previous night, hitting the island of Andros the hardest. Morgan’s Bluff had been demolished, and the early reports indicated the loss of lives in the hundreds, and climbing as more confirmations came in. For the first few minutes all he could do was stare in utter shock at the television screen. Finally he reached for the phone, fumbling the receiver in his hand as he tried to control his shaky fingers enough to press all the correct numbers… Nothing but a recorded voice on the other end informing him that all lines were busy… His head snapped back down to the ends of the rope in his hands. He couldn’t bear to retrace any more thoughts, and he quickly dragged the noose over his head, tightening it into place. ‘I should have been here; I could have saved dem all from dis.’ Softly he wept. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight he found waiting for him when he finally returned home to Morgan’s Bluff, particularly when he reached his family’s home. The entire backside of the house had caved in, and when he raced around to the back, he found his sister Lillian’s hand, reaching out from the debris. Hysterically, he waded through the wreckage and grabbed her hand to help pull her out; frantically hoping that she was just injured. But, it was ice cold, confirming his worst fear: His sister was dead, killed in the wake of Hurricane Jeanne… It would take several more days to sift through all the remains of this broken down house, He found the rest of them together, huddled over one another, every last member trying to protect the other, and all of them departed from the world we know. He surmised that Lilly had probably broken away from the rest of them in an attempt to try to salvage her precious orchids. He cried much more openly at that point, as the memories served to do nothing more than further shatter his heart. It’d soon be over. All it would take is one step off this chair, and he’d be able to be with those he loved dearest. “Dominic,” a familiar voice called out just as the lights in the room suddenly flickered on. “No…” Startled by the light and the sudden noise, Dominic turned around to face the source of the offending sound. As his tear-stained face landed upon his erstwhile tag team partner, the look of utter astonishment overtook him. “Johnny?” Dominic said, turning his body around to face his friend. “What are you doing…” SNAP! … When suddenly, the worn out old chair, a chair that Dominic had selected specifically for this reason, collapses beneath him, leaving Dominic with nowhere to support his weight, as gravity demands that he relinquish his position in the middle of the air. And so he begins to fall… **** “NOOOO!” Johnny shouted, unable to move his body. It was almost as if time had completely stopped for him while speeding up for his dear friend. Finally he had to force his limbs to work for him once more, less he watch Dominic die in his very presence, and he simply could not live with that. Johnny quickly reached into his coat pocket, reaching for his silver nine millimeter, but it was at that point that a loud creaking sound from above drew his attention towards the ceiling, just before the support beam the ends of the rope were tied around gave way. In the wake of the hurricane that ravaged the land and this house, those support beams didn’t need much to bring them down… CRACK! … And down they came… THUMP! CRASH! Dominic crashed, face-first into the wooden floor, only seconds before all sorts of various rubbish piled on top, covering him completely. Johnny moved in swiftly, quickly uncovering his partner from the wreckage. He took a quick survey of Dominic, who was unconscious, deciding that he hadn’t broken his neck or anything major, and then swept him over his shoulders and carried him out of the room. The front portion of the house appeared to be structurally sound enough, and Johnny found a bed in one of the front rooms to lay his partner down upon. “He should be safe here,” Johnny said, breathing a sigh of relief. He didn’t know if he would find Dominic alive here, and the fact that he had was like lifting a mountain of uneasiness from his back. If he were a second later in his arrival, or spent any more time relishing the memories of things in this house it might have been a different story. For now, however, he knew he had at least saved Dominic’s life, in the morning he’d have to see if he could keep it going. **** “Nic?” Dominic LeCroix returned to consciousness slowly, a familiar voice coaxing him out of his slumber. “Dominic,” It called again, much firmer the second time. His eyes flickered open as he quickly bolted upright in his bed, startled by the suddenness. The source of the voice, Johnny Dangerous, stood at the doorway to the bedroom. His sorrow momentarily overwhelmed by his disorientation, Dominic looked at his tag team partner in bewilderment. “W-where am I?” he finally asked as one arm instinctively moved to block the sunlight from his eyes, and he moved to the edge of the bed. “How long have I been out?” “We’re at your home in Morgan’s Bluff still,” informed Johnny, “and you’ve been asleep for over fifteen hours now.” He then turned and headed back down the hallway. Dominic watched as Johnny turned the corner before he slid out of bed and shuffled towards the doorway himself. He rubbed his neck gingerly, unclear as to why it was bothering him so much, until he came to a stop as he passed in front of a full-sized wall mirror. The rope that he had tied around his neck the previous night had left a dark burn mark, and suddenly the memory of everything leading up to the previous evening flooded back into his consciousness, overtaking him in a wave of grief and nausea. Dominic fell to his knees sobbing silently, whimpering to no one in particular: ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…’ **** TWEEEEET! Johnny Dangerous removed the tea kettle from the stove, and walked over to the cupboard to root around for some cups. ‘Good thing that Lilly showed me where everything was the last time I was here,’ he thought absentmindedly, as he retrieved a pair of china mugs and two saucers. As he began to pour the tea, Johnny began to wonder what had happened to Dominic, and it was just at that moment that Dominic chose to enter the kitchen, still rubbing his neck. “You make tea?” asked Dominic, sitting down at one of the chairs by the table. “In my many travels of the world,” replied Johnny, “whether it be in Asia or England, it always seems like hot tea is a healing agent. They can’t all be wrong now, can they?” “I thought tea in England was just a meal in their day,” said Dominic. “Hell if I know,” Johnny shrugged, scooting a cup of tea towards Dominic. “You know, you’re lucky you didn’t break your neck there.” “Maybe I should have,” replied Dominic, staring down at his steaming cup and seemingly shrugging off the notion that he should be grateful to be alive. It certainly wasn’t the kind of response the Barracuda had hoped for and he sighed in response, but as he looked back up at Dominic, with a single tear rolling down his cheek, he was at war with himself whether to press the issue any further or not. It certainly needed to be addressed. After all, what kind of friend would he be if we were unwilling to share the pain with his friend? “I can’t help but to think that there was something I could have done to prevent all of this,” Nic finally said, looking up from his cup. “I should have been here instead of gallivanting around plotting my vengeance; I could have stopped all of dis from happening!” “There’s no way you could have stopped that Hurricane, Nic,” replied Johnny, trying to sound as assuring as possible. “What happened here was a terrible tragedy. Nobody knew how hard it was going to hit; hell, nobody even thought it was going to get this far south. And nobody, not even the great Wildchild could have stopped this. You can’t beat yourself up, Nic, it wasn’t your fault!” Dominic nodded his head in response, and there was a long silence that followed; Johnny sat helplessly, torn between his sense that he should try to say something to comfort his friend, and his sense that he needed to let him take however much time he needed to be able to talk about his pain… “I was meant to go with dem.” Johnny’s mind had once again drifted to the last time he’d been in this house, when Dominic finally chose to break his silence. “Huh?” “I shouldn’t be da lone survivor of da LeCroix clan… I can’t be… I-I-I jus’ can’t!” He buried his head into his hands, overcome with emotion. Johnny rose from his seat and wrapped an arm around Dominic, trying to do whatever he could to help ease the pain, to comfort his friend in his greatest time of need. “It’s going to be alright,” Johnny softly said as his eyes begun to water, “I’ll miss them too.” Johnny himself had been welcomed into the family home with open arms several times before, even when Dominic’s arms hadn’t been among them: When Dominic still wasn’t speaking to Johnny after Genesis, Lillian took it upon herself to invite the Secret Agent to Morgan’s Bluff for Christmas. And while reluctant at first, he finally agreed. Her eagerness to have Johnny over naturally cast a reasonable suspicion as to what the Barracuda had in mind with her, or what she had in mind with him, especially knowing the intimate details of his skirt-chasing in times past. The simple thought alone was enough to make the Barracuda feel unwelcome but, in the end, it was his sister’s persistence that the two of them get back together, and mend the fences that got everything back on track. Johnny was always welcome in the LeCroix home after that, and they were almost like a second family. “Lillian, Marius… your Mom and Dad, do you really think they’d want you to give up on life, Nic?” Johnny said. “They may no longer be here, but they sure didn’t just give up on themselves, they fought until the bitter end, didn’t they?” Dominic knew he was right. He remembered the way he’d found his family all huddled together in the rubble, all of them fighting to protect each other from the house falling down on top of them. They were all willing to sacrifice themselves so the rest could go on. “They sacrificed themselves for you, Nic, don’t let their sacrifice be in vain.” Johnny’s words rang of the truth, and Dominic knew it. Why did he always have to be right , he thought. Nonetheless, it didn’t help the pain he felt over losing them, and he shook his head fiercely in denial. “I can’t handle dis, Johnny,” he wept, slumping out of his chair to the floor. Johnny helped ease him down to a kneeling position. “Dis pain is too much! I can’t make it without dem!” “You’re not alone man,” Johnny replied soothingly. “You’ve got friends… you’ve got me… You don’t have to deal with this by yourself.” Still overcome by grief, Dominic sat on the floor crying for hours. Johnny Dangerous never left his side. **** Johnny helped Dominic host a tasteful memorial service for the fallen LeCroix family, attended by Mister Jo-Jo’s family, and a few other friends of the LeCroix who had survived the hurricane. The final farewells were long, but meaningful, and they left behind only the physical remains. A few days later, Johnny was helping him repair part of the house, when he caught Dominic staring at an old family portrait, sadness in his eyes. “I think you should come back to the states with me, Nic,” Johnny said, walking over to him. “I can’t leave you here by yourself; I’d worry about you. And you’ve got to start living again.” “Go back an’ do what,” challenged Dominic. “Dere’s nothing left for me dere.” Johnny shrugged. “Well, what’s left for you here?” Dominic glared at him in response. “You know what I mean…” Dominic looked as if he wanted to say something to Johnny, but simply lowered his head. “I dunno, Johnny…” “Look,” replied the Barracuda. “Just come on the road with me. I’m still on leave from the SWF; we can take a road trip, or something. Anything to get your mind off of this!” Johnny looked imploringly at Dominic, but his voice sounded almost as if it was more of an order than a request. Dominic raised his head, staring into his friend’s eyes for what seemed like hours without blinking. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed loudly. “Alright,” He was reluctant to leave, but he knew Johnny would either take him with him or stay here. He might as well get away from here for a while. “I’ll get some things together.” As Dominic left the kitchen, Johnny leaned against the wall, and released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Thank God,” he muttered to himself. **** Johnny and Dominic stood outside the LeCroix family home, waiting for Mister Jo-Jo to come by and take them down to the docks. “Try to be positive, ‘Nic,” Johnny said brightly. “Today is October 29, 2004, and as cliché as it may sound, today is the first day of the rest of your life. I’ll be here to help you, I’ll you need to do is tell me what you need.” “Alright,” replied Dominic, shaking his head as Mister Jo-Jo’s taxi pulled up. “I suppose t’ings could be worse.” “Sure they could,” Johnny said with a wink as they got into the cab. “Your last name could be Fasaki…” Dominic smiled weakly at his friend’s corny joke, but he felt more positive about his future than he had in weeks. The LeCroix was a proud family, he told himself, and he was honor-bound to push forward, to move on. He couldn’t let them down; he couldn’t let them die in vain. He had to get back on that tightrope… END PART FOUR

link, plz

Unfortunately for the Kings, they thought the game began at 7:30. Unfortunately for the Celtics, they thought the game ended at 7:29...

Well, Armstong's hardly the best PG in the NBA, but he's worth at least a Super Bird from Denny's... Trading him for Dickau is the equivalent of trading him for a ham sandwich... with a bad cut of meat... on stale bread... and not even any Miracle Whip on the fucker...

Meaning that, with Baron Davis out of the lineup, they traded away their then-starting PG for a ham sandwich.

I never saw AngleSault as a "white man" ever....ever Are you serious? Anglesault may be the "whitest" white man in America. PS - And I'm fairly sure that he's younger than me, so he'd be twenty-eight at the oldest.

Apparently, Ro-Sham-Bo = Rock-Paper-Scissors

Does this work?

I have the feeling that, despite the heart they've showed since the embarrassment in Detroit, Indiana's short bench will finally catch up with them on this road trip.

Having had explained to me what this South Park reference is, I can state definitively that the "Ro-Sham-Bo" that was referred to on South Park is not the same thing that I'm talking about. So, I guess what I should ask now is, if you disregard the South Park "Ro-Sham-Bo," does that change anyone's answer?

:: reads Smarkdown card :: I'll let you know Tuesday morning...

Well, that would explain why I hadn't heard of it; I don't believe I have ever once watched a single episode of South Park. What it doesn't explain is why a handful of middle-aged people I know, whom I also know have never watched South Park, happened to be familiar with it...

MAIN EVENT - TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH Team ANGER (Christian Fury and David Cross) © vs. Hollywood Boulevard (Todd Cortez and Ghost) vs. Revolution Zero (Sean Davis and Toxxic) - Revolution Zero. I choose to reserve comment as to why. BATTLE OF THE BEHEMOTHS Carnage vs. "The Icon" Max King - King. I mark for King; I like what I've read of Carnage, but I think King will take this one. OBLIGATORY HARDCORE MATCH FEATURING DANNY DAGDA Danny Dagda vs. Manson - Mr. Bukkake CRUISERWEIGHT CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH "Hollywood" Spike Jenkins © vs. Kaine - I wouldn't exactly break my heart to see Spike lose the title, but he's a good cruiserweight writer (which is painful enough for me to admit in itself), and he gets much propers from me for having been able to hold on to it. I see him retaining here.

Interesting... I guess I've been living in a cave or something for the last twenty-nine years; I'd never heard this term before last night, and when I was told what it stood for, my initial response was, "That sounds retarded; who the fuck came up with that?"

Without revealing the meaning for those who are unfamiliar with it, who here, by a simple answer of "yes" or "no," is familiar with the term "Ro-Sham-Bo?"

What makes you so sure I didn't?

Can you imagine if Bosh had stayed? ACC >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Big 10

If I remember correctly, I actually did vote for Divefire; I may be mistaken.

Okay, I'm speaking from a lack of knowledge of the IGNWF, so can someone who's been around a while give me a strong argument for DVD > J&R? ... I <3 Karl Rove? 'Splain, please.