Mr. S£im Citrus

Well, I'll keep that on the back burner in case what I'm working on doesn't pan out...

Come to think of it, G-VII is technically only forty-nine days after Ground Zero... Huh. I guess I'll just have to think of some way to get Dub Cee unsuspended before then, now won't I?

This reminds me of part of a Heinlein novel I think I read once, but the name escapes me at the moment...

Hey now, I'd at least like to think that you didn't bring the suck in May; I certainly thought the match I wrote that lost to yours for the IN belt was pretty decent...

It'd be nice if somebody tells these kids that they don't have to be on the break in order to pass; virtually no ball movement in the halfcourt. In fact, their halfcourt offense has basically consisted of: 1) Anthony brings the ball up and shoots, 2) James brings the ball up and shoots, and 3) Wade brings the ball up and shoots. That's going to bite them in the ass against any team that's worth a damn. Hell, it almost bit them in the ass against Brazil, and they may have three NBA-caliber players.

Do you work for InstaCast or something?

Including myself and you, there are only 2 other black posters that I know of...

Not fruity booty. The other one.

.... You know, I don't expect other people to be a fan of Hardy as I am, but the level of abject hatred mystifies me...

I've learned never to take Drea seriously. You can take me at my word, though: I have it on good authority that I have no sense of humor, and couldn't make up something like that, anyway. "Cat" was a figure of speech, though.

I hate dogs. Especially yellow ones. I knew what you were getting at, Bruce, but why the hell would I say something? Fakkin' blabbermouth...

You guys are ageist, that's what you are! Always hating on the old people...

Not even Mags?

So... MANSON = Koresh?

Damn, now I've got to rip everything up and go back to the drawing board; thanks for nothing, Drea...

RAP-RAP-RAP! Dominic LeCroix finishes hammering the frame of one wall in what used to be his parents’ master bedroom into another. He hops down from the ladder and stops to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Melissa told me I might find you in here.” Wildchild freezes at the sound of the familiar voice of Johnny Dangerous, and elects to keep his eyes trained at the wall in front of him. After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Johnny speaks up again. “Look, Dominic, I was obviously surprised to get your letter, but… what is this all about?” Without looking at his former tag team partner, Dominic points to a wooden structure lying against the floor. “Help me get dat frame up,” he says curtly. Both men walk over to the frame and lift it off the ground, standing it up and positioning it so that it is perpendicular to the nearest corner. “Hold dis in place while I go get my ladder.” Without even waiting for a response, Dominic drags his stepladder over to the frame, and then climbs up, reaching into a pouch on his tool belt to grab a nail and lining it up with his intended point of attack. “Nic’,” says Johnny, “Surely you didn’t ask me to come down here just to hold up this frame. We should probably talk about…” RAP-RAP-RAP! The Barracuda is suddenly cut off as Dominic begins hammering the nail into wall. He reaches into his pouch and grabs another nail, resuming his hammering before Johnny can get a word in edgewise. Finally, Johnny abandons his post and walks over to grab Dominic by the wrist before he can get another nail. “You can’t avoid me forever,” insists Johnny. Dominic sighs heavily and hangs his head. “I’ve done well enough for de past year.” “What are you doing down here, anyway?” “Well,” explains Dominic, “since I suddenly find myself wit’ some free time, I figured I’d make some long-overdue repairs to de house. I haven’ really been down here since I went back to de SWF, except for a couple of weekends; hardly enough time t’fix anyt’ing up.” “Okay, fine,” says Johnny. “Next question: why did you hang up on me the last time I tried to talk to you?” “Because, as I recall,” Dominic replies angrily, “de las’ time I tried t’ LISTEN to you, you were still tryin’ t’ blame ME for what happened between us, you jackass! Now go back over dere an’ keep de frame steady!” Having been suitably bitch-slapped, Johnny does as told. The two men continue to work in silence for several minutes, before Johnny finally spoke up again. “So… since it doesn’t seem like you want to talk to me, why exactly am I here?” Dominic looks up towards the sky, as if beseeching the spirits of his dead family to grant him patience. He sighs loudly before replying, “Look, I’m still tryin’ t’deal with a lot of issues here, an’ you aren’ helping! It’s hard enough as it is jus’ bein’ in de same room wit’ you right now; I can’t put my anger behind me jus’ like dat!” “You could at least look at me,” replies Johnny. “It’s been nine months, for God’s sake!” Dominic’s eyes flash with anger as he glares at Johnny. “You manipulated me for almost a year, Johnny,” he growls. “An’ as soon as you decided dat I wasn’t useful t’you anymore, you left me for dead against TKO… and DEN you REALLY started actin’ like an asshole! I don’ t’ink dat you have any right t’tell me how long it should take for me t’get over dis!” “Fine,” says Johnny, shaking his head in exasperation. “You’re right; come to terms with all of this at your own pace… but then, why am I here?” Dominic stares at Johnny for several seconds, and then walks past him towards another wall frame. “Jus’ help me get dis final frame up; we’ll talk later.” The two former teammates work together in sync as they secure the frame to the others. After a few minutes, Johnny decides to break the silence. “Look, for whatever it’s worth… I’m sorry. That’s what I was trying to tell you the last time I called: I was wrong. And… I apologize.” Dominic stares at the frame that the two have just assembled for several moments, refusing to look at Johnny. “Let’s go,” he says finally. “I’m late for lunch; if de food gets cold, Missy’s gon’ kill me!” The two walk across the house into the kitchen, where Melissa is just getting the food to the table. “Oh good,” she says, “you’re just in time; the garlic bread is just about done. Hon’, could you get the lemonade out for me?” “Okay,” replies Dominic. He then pauses to glance at Johnny. “I’m sure you remember where we keep de glasses?” Minutes later, the trio sits down to eat. “So,” mumbles Johnny through a mouthful of spaghetti, “are you ever going to tell me why you asked me to come down here?” Dominic lays down his fork and looks at the Barracuda. “Well, for weeks, I’ve been hearing dis nagging voice, saying ‘make peace wit’ Johnny,’ ‘make peace wit’ Johnny.’” Dominic pauses and flashes his trademark grin for the first time since Johnny’s arrival. “Finally, I said, ‘okay,’ an’ Missy shut de hell up.” SMACK! “Ow!” says Dominic, rubbing the back of his head where Melissa just slapped him. “You know I’m kiddin’, darlin’.” “Alright then,” asks Johnny, “how can I get back on your good side?” “Well,” replies Dominic, “you can start by doing me a favor.” Dominic gets out of his seat and walks over to the countertop, where he grabs a notepad and a pen. He scribbles something on the top sheet and walks back over to the table, where he hands it to Johnny. “Go an’ talk t’dis guy, an’ tell him dat I sent you. He’ll know what for.” “Will I know what for?” “As soon as he gives you de package, I’m sure dat you’ll be able t’ figure it out,” replies Dominic. “Oh, an’ get me some tickets for dis Canadian tour.” “Tickets?” asks a puzzled Johnny. “I thought that you were suspended?” “Officially, I am suspended,” replies Dominic. “Dat’s what de tickets are for. Dat’s also what the package dat I’m sending you t’get is for; if Mike Van Siclen t’inks dat I’m dat easy t’get rid of, he’s got anot’er t’ink coming…”

Hey, stranger things have happened around here. Hell, that very thing has happened around here; you should read up about a cat named Rane sometime...

MANSON should totally speak in the third person.

When I come back from suspension, that title is totally mine, Bruce. Or not.

So, basically, the whole show? When did we start booking so many matches for Aftershoxx, anyway? I mean, wasn't the original concept for Aftershoxx supposed to be a recap show, with the whole purpose behind it being a "free" show to get the schedule back on track? I'm asking because I can't write for Storms as it is, with my schedule, and if we can't get the show schedule back on track, I'm not going to be able to write for Lockdowns, either.

Well Toxxic, if it makes you feel any better, you can always take comfort in the knowledge that I'm only 2-5 against you, both of my wins are in tag matches, and I showed all seven times. I think I've lost more to you than to the rest of the active roster combined.

I guess it's more sort of a "pot calling the kettle black" sort of thing. You really have no business bashing somebody when you're in the same boat as them.

... says perhaps the least-qualified person in the fed to make that assessment.

I didn't say all of that, now... Johnny's still a great writer... when he can be bothered...

I was trying not to name names... Johnny's still my boy; I didn't want to call him out like that, but...