Post by SickWaves Blackamura on Jul 19, 2017 21:36:13 GMT -5
Medic: Just a few more, Andre.
Andre: You know, Doc..I ain’t gonna give no credit to Udy and pretend that bitch ass gave me any sort of real challenge, but landin’ in a pile of light tubes sure fuckin’ hurts.
Medic: Well, it certainly keeps me busy. I advised Mr. Lerch against hosting a tournament like this again, but he just didn’t seem to care about the risks after being assured that the company wouldn’t be liable.
Andre: Of course that nigga didn’t care. It’s all about puttin’ asses in seats and rackin’ up them bills. I’d prolly do the same shit if I were in his position. Plus, who doesn’t enjoy watchin’ muhfuckers beat the shit out of each other?
With shards and blood bein’ cleaned up from ya boy’s back, I could feel the doc threadin’ a needle through some of the bigger cuts along my flesh to close up them battle wounds.
Medic: If I were you, I’d take this experience as a sign to maybe call it a week.
Andre: What you sayin’, bruh?
Medic: I’m saying that with each night you continue to do this tournament, you’re only raising your chance for career altering injury.
Andre: Bruh, I know this. You think I signed up to fight for that Martin Lutha Kunta of the Deathmatch crown thinkin’ that I wasn’t finna end up a lil’ fucked up?
Medic: It is my job to try to look out for the well being of my patients. Don’t say that I didn’t warn you.
Andre: I’ve been lettin’ muhfuckers know that this tournament is gonna be one of them moments I use to build my name off of as the realest of the real. I ain’t about to be no bitch ass nigga tryna drop out mid way through. I came this far, so why quit now? My health? Shiiit, I’m just glad Massah Seffery ain’t be piss testin’ like most of these other feds is.
Doc be finishin’ off the stitches and cleanin’ up the surroundin’ area as ya boy stand up off the table.
Medic: My work is done for tonight. Let’s hope I don’t have to see you in here for something even worse tomorrow.
Andre: We’ll see.
Ya boy walks out the door and into the hallway, pain and stiffness still runnin’ through them achin’ muscles.
Just think, once we clear the rest of this week, it’s Corey Black served up to the world on a fuckin’ platter, bro.
We? Nigga, I’m the one out here destroyin’ my body.
You know what I mean.
Standin’ next to a monitor of the broadcast near Gorilla, I see the conclusion of night two’s main event.
Freddy Whoa: Pomp is out! He’s out! The referee is calling for the bell! Wade Moor wins!
Ayy, good shit.
Yeah. I mean, I ain’t surprised by that one. Always nice to see my niggas gettin’ them W’s, but I don’t think anyone expected fuckin’ Psychopomp to give Wade a run for his money.
It’s not like Wade has much to worry about in Block A either. The way I see it, me and the homie probably finna be dukin’ it out Sunday Night in the finals.
Don’t forget, you got Crow to worry about tomorrow night.
I ain’t too worried.
You’re not? I mean, dude is leadin’ the block right now and you’re behind a win.
He ain’t unbeatable though. Former world champ in USEAI? Yeah, but that don’t mean he’s the highest nigga on the totem pole ‘round here. I fought alongside and against top of the card muhfuckers. Ain’t nobody scary in my eyes, man, especially in a tournament like this. A nigga who seen the shit that I seen is naturally always prepared for some shit like this goin’ down.
I just think this is def the hardest match up in the entire block for you. That FPV shit didn’t really go as planned and Crow McMorris is more accustomed to brutal shit than Frank or pretty much any other dude in your block.
I’m Andre Aquarius, nigga. Nothin’ else matters. IF I lose this shit, I do what I do and come back prepared to fuck up a nigga the next time I step foot the ring. There ain’t no quit in ya boy. I’m sure a bunch of niggas expect me to be eatin’ that L too wit’ how much they be hypin’ up Crow’s ass. What about me winnin’ though? Think about that for a second.
Winnin’ is always the plan.
That ain’t how everyone finna wanna see things go though. Ya boy standin’ tall in the junkyard tomorrow night means that we got ourselves a real race. Crow at the top after winnin’ his first couple def puts the rest of us behind him in terms of dem points, but I win this shit and I’m right there. Don’t think that ain’t been keepin’ tabs on where I be in this shit. I know what it finna take. I know this shit’s a dog fight, but ya boy a GAWD damn Rottweiler in the #DubSeaEff and I be teachin’ muhfuckers that it takes a hell of a lot to handle my ass when them teeth be sunk down into a nigga’s skin.
Just make sure you comin’ prepared.
This be takin’ it beyond a street fight, I know that. When you put Kunta in this Junkyard match, it should be expected that I’m comin’ wit’ that MacGyver state of mind. The possibilities be endless and I’m feelin’ mad creative in this deathmatch settin’. Crow on some supernatural shit? I don’t give no fucks, bruh bruh. Rodney King didn’t stay down for the count and neither will Prince Lightskin. This shit be or be killed and there ain’t no way Imma be in my casket any time soon.
To my left, I see my bro Wade walk past wit’ a sick ass grin plastered on his grill. We shoot each other that fat nod of respect as he heads toward the locker room.
Wade: Excellent work out there tonight, brother!
Andre: Ayyy, you too, bruh!
Wade: Tonight, we celebrate!
Andre: For sure, I’ll be there!
As Wade disappears down the hall, ya boy is approached by some pigmy ass nigga wit’ a live mic.
Interviewer: Andre! Andre Aquarius!
Interviewer: How are you feeling about your match with Crow tomorrow night?!
Andre: Brandon Lee a faggot and so is Crow. Tell Massah McMorris that Andre ain’t got no blanks in the chamber.
I turn away, leavin’ this lil’ homo behind me wit’ killin’ on my mind. Tomorrow, I’m tyin’ this shit up.