Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2014 23:48:42 GMT -5
There are two types of "gangster":
1) A wannabe thug, often illiterate and an inhabitant of a downtrodden ghetto that hangs around in "gangs"; largely associated with the African-American subculture. These try-hard wanna be "gangstas" attempt to make themselves appear like real criminals by spray painting graffiti on buildings, smoking/selling drugs and trying to looking all "bad-ass and macho an'-shit, yo". An utter degradation of what true gangsters represent (see below), and street wannabe "gangsta"-types don't hold a candle to what real gangsters are.
2) The *real* gangsters are those behind organised crime; most notably the Mafia. Responsible for black market trade, espionage, organised beatings/assassinations, etc. "The Godfather" portrays the archetype of true gangsters, showing the brutality of mob beatings, shootings, running rackets and abusing woman, alcohol and everything in between. The real gangsters are *not* to be confused with the aforementioned definition, commonly used as it might be.
1) I'm da gangsta in da hood, yo. Bustin' shiznitz an' layin' da cuts straight sittin' on yo ass wiv me Colt 40 and homies, cuttin' back a fat split in me crib, yo.
2) "All right, you just shot 'em both. Now what do you do?"
"Sit down and finish my dinner."
He walked away with uncertainty in his heart and tears streaming from his eyes. He knew she would never be the same. Still, He knew inside that she was right and it was the only way to go. His choice was clear. Either join her or go against her and hope to get to them and stop whoever is behind it all. What the hell, It could be a lot of fun. He would tell her after their match.
At least that much was taken care of. He felt bad about losing the Peoples Championship but whatever. He would just have to rebound and start doing what he liked to do best. Start hurting people more and taking them out. He would start his own hit list and take out some of the trash around the WCF. The fake ass wanna be gangsters sounded like a good place to start. He didn't care for phony bitches like those two anyway. If they ever shot at anybody it would scare them so much they would shit their pants. Neither one of them could bust a grape in a fruit fight.
He left North Carolina and drove to Richmond, Virginia. As the miles ticked by like seconds on a clock he thought about all he had been through since joining the WCF. From winning the Tag Team Championship to the failed relaunch of the Angels of Death. He had fought some of the toughest around and never backed down from a challenge. Still he failed to get the respect and recognition that he deserved. It was time that he stopped putting up with the bullshit they were dishing out and started really making a name for himself. Even if that meant joining the Shadows of Darkness.
He thought about some of the stuff he had done and the people that he had killed. It wasn't his fault. They shouldn't have fucked with him. He was just sticking up for what was his. Just remembering them now made him feel warm and tingly all over. Looking into their eyes and watching as the very life seeps out and nothing but an empty shell remains. He loved killing people almost as much as he loved sex, Almost.
His thoughts tuned to the so called gangsters of the WCF. Zack Wild and Original Gangster were nothing but a couple of oddball goofs who were about as much of a gangster as Dr. Dre was. Everyone knows how Eazy-E set his ass out. He would show them what being a real gangsta was all about. Something he knew all too well. Growing up he was always one of the 'bad boys' who hung with the rest of the tough kids and took advantage of those weaker than them. He didn't give a shit as long as it put money in his pocket.
He remembered a guy from the hood everyone called 'Slick Rick' because he was always talking about how he did this and that and yet he had no police record. Shit, Night Rider had his own filing cabinet full of shit they could never get enough evidence to actually pin on him. Night Rider got tired of listening to Slick Rick talking so much shit and called him on it one day. Slick Rick wasn't seen around anymore after that. Although the police department did receive a box in the mail with his heart inside of it. The rest of his body was never found and the case remained unsolved.
He walked into the liquor store and grabbed a fifth of Jack Daniels. After paying for it and a pack of smokes he decided to drive to the Siegal Center where the next Slam would be held. After paying off the night watchman he walked inside and made his way down to the ring. Everything was set up and ready for the next days activities. He climbed into the ring and bounced off the ropes a couple of times. After taking a drink from his bottle he sat down on the top turnbuckle and looked around.
Here was where it all happened, Dreams were made and destroyed all in one evening. He looked around at the empty seats. Tomorrow night they would be full of barbaric screaming fans begging for one more ounce of blood to be shed. Not even caring about what it did to the combatants themselves. The constant struggle did something to those involved. Some were able to put it behind them without having it bother them. Others, Like himself, It made turn darker and meaner with each battle. The thrill of hurting another to the point where they could no longer move was such a high. Stronger than the most powerful drug around. It drove him and kept him wanting more until it came to the point where doing it inside the ring was no longer enough. That was why he and others like him had to do what they did. It wasn't his fault, It was the fans and their thirst for blood that was to blame. Now the WCF would pay for it.
He jumped down from the turnbuckle and was just getting out of the ring when he heard a voice calling out to him. He turned around to see Hank Brown making his way towards the ring.
Hank Brown
Night Rider? What in the world are you doing here? Did you forget what night your match was on?
Night Rider
No dumb ass. I just had some thinking to do. What business is it of yours anyway? It's not like you give a shit about anything but getting that next big interview. Hell, What are you doing here?
Hank Brown
I couldn't sleep so I decided to come down and make sure all my equipment made the trip alright. I tend to do that from time to time. You can't always trust the roadies to be careful with shit. Sometimes they get in a hurry and start throwing everything. Come on, What's wrong? Is it the deal with Denise D'Evil still missing?
Night Rider
Actually I have spoken with Denise and she will be at our match for Slam. We will work together perfectly like nothing has happened and then...........
Hank Brown
And then? Come on, Don't leave me hanging.
Night Rider
Lets just say that the WCF is going to be in for some dark days. You see I am kind of tired of the way things are going and I think it's time I started dishing out some severe punishment. I've started mellowing out lately and I need to change that. I have let people get away with shit that just a short while back I would have taken their heads off for. Not any more. No more free rides. If you get in my way or mess with those I care about your going down, No excuses and no questions.
Hank Brown
Sounds like it could be a rough evening for your opponents. I sure wouldn't want to be in their shoes. What brought all of this on?
Night Rider
Have you even been listening to me? I swear sometimes your so dense. There are going to be some changes and a lot of people are not going to like what happens. You know what, I don't give a shit anymore. I have poured out my blood and sweat for the WCF and now it's time for the WCF to do some bleeding. Yes, Starting with the wanna be gangsters at Slam. They are going to get the beat down of their lives. You'll see, Everyone will see. Playtime is over and people are going to start getting hurt. I tried to warn people, We all did. They just refused to listen. It's their own fault.
Hank Brown
What do you mean, We all did? I think your losing your mind. You mean Denise and yourself?
Night Rider
Why don't you just wait and see like everyone else. You'll find out exactly what I am talking about. Hell, We should have done this a long time ago. I can't wait to get back in that ring. From now on it's no holds barred. I don't care what I have to do anymore. I used to worry about taking my opponents out and ending their career. That shit's done with. If I have to end my opponents career to win my match I'm going to do it.
Hank Brown
You know that will make you a lot of enemies. These guys take their livelihood seriously. You talk about taking that away from them is going to really piss them off.
Night Rider
Do I look like I really care about pissing them off? It's their own fault!
Hank Brown
What are you talking about?
Night Rider
Never mind, You wouldn't understand anyway. See you around Hank.
Night Rider walked out of the arena and got into his car. He drove until he found an open tavern and went inside. He sat down at the bar and waited until the bartender finally walked over and asked him what he wanted. He ordered a Jack and Coke and surveyed the area. The place was almost empty except for some guy at a table near the jukebox crying in his beer and a hooker trying to pickup a customer at the other end of the bar. Behind him a young woman sat at a table reading a paperback with a mixed drink in front of her. By the end of the night one of them would no longer be around...........
