#2SidesOfTheSameCoin #TheMalignanniDissection
Mar 23, 2016 3:44:26 GMT -5
occulo, Joey Flash, and 12 more like this
Post by Wade Moor on Mar 23, 2016 3:44:26 GMT -5
Prologue: Hacksaw Jimophy Thuggin
The first day Wade Moor had ever met Hacksaw Jimophy Thuggin – at least, that he was aware of – was a curious day indeed. He remembered news reports coming in from around the world of massive quantities of dead birds, seemingly falling out of nowhere. The news intrigued Wade as nothing ever had before, partly due to the mysterious circumstances surrounding the phenomenon, but mainly how something so seemingly minuscule could so rapidly effect the Earth's delicate ecosystem. The birds weren't the only ones to suffer that day. Reports started filing in of massive strandings of whales, seals, turtles, and fish.
Wade also recalled the report running alongside, in the background, dismissed at hoaxes and conspiracy theories. Mystifying lights had been spotted in the sky, shining dim rays through the darkened clouds. Doomsday theorists and conspiracy podcasts littering the internet had a field day with this information, heralding it as the coming apocalypse.
The alien overlords had come to enslave the human race.
“BAH”, Wade bellowed, “What a load of hot fucking trash.”
He clicked the remote to the television and focused his attention on a silver tray, piled high with an ounce of the dankest dro you've ever laid eyes on. He rolls a joint between his meaty fingers and puts it to his lips, sparking it up with a zippo from the shirt pocket of his signature Tommy Bahama. Two puffs in, the door to the hotel room flies open and Jared Holmes walks in – wearing that ridiculous luchador mask he had grown accustomed to wearing.
Wade didn't question it much when he started wearing the mask. Just another one of his wild quirks, thought Wade, akin to him palling around with the three hundred pound swamp wizard. Hunter Updegraff strolls in behind him and throws his arm around the neck of Jared, twirling the luchador mask around on his face. Jared shoves him away and the two laugh it off.
“Daaaaaaaaamn Jared”, Hunter shouts, “Back at it again with the gay mask.”
“Fuck you”, Jared replied playfully, “This mask is the height of swag. Give it a week and every #fuccboi plus one will be wearing this shit.”
“Give it a year and that Daaaaaaaaaamn shit will catch on”, Hunter said in reply while heading towards the mini fridge of the hotel room they planned to trash later.
Jared turned towards Wade, pulled the mask off of his face, and threw his arms out in a show of compassion.
“Swagrid!”, Jared shouted, “The fuck were you at? I saw this piece of tail that had your name all over it.”
Wade laughed, a guttural fake laugh, but he was sure it had served it's intended purpose.
“Bruh”, Wade said in his swaggiest voice, “I was watching the news. Someone has to keep up to date on that shit.”
“Psh”, Jared scoffed, “The world's trying to die anyways. We're supposed to just let it.”
Wade exhaled deeply through his nose.
“Maybe”, Wade replied, “Maybe we shouldn't be the ones getting caught up in it.”
Jared shrugged and took the blunt straight from Wade's hand. He slipped it into his lips and talked with it bouncing up and down between words.
“Fuck that shit anyways”, Jared said, “There's somebody I want you to meet.”
Wade held up his hands.
“Look, I don't want another one of those club rats”, Wade said, “All the Irish Spring in the world couldn't scrub off the last one.”
Jared laughed and clapped Wade on the shoulder, urging him up to his feet.
“Nah, you missed out on that already”, Jared laughed, “This is something else entirely. You know we've been training this wrestling shit for a long time, trying to get into that WSeaF ring?”
“I have”, Wade replied, “You've been trolling for mall ass and snorting blow.”
Jared lightly slapped Wade's face – an action that certainly wouldn't have gone unpunished if somebody else were in Jared's position...but Jared had a calming effect on The Leviathan.
“Hey, don't I know it?” Jared laughingly replied, “Anyways, I was thinking we're going to need somebody to...manage our affairs, you know? While we're busy laying waste in the most dominant fashion?”
Wade shrugged his shoulders and furrowed his brow as Jared led him to the door.
“We're going to be too busy with that #fuccboigenocide to even have time to worry about this shit...so I found this guy. Well, he found me. Through my father. He's on the up and up. He's Slovenian, or something. May I introduce you to Hacksaw Jimophy Thuggin?!”
As if on cue, a middle aged man walked through the door, suit pressed and tailored. Smoke wafted from his cigar through the threshold and permeated the room in a blanket of it's earthy aroma. The man checked his tie, slicked his hair back, and held out his spindly hand for Wade to shake.
“Earth Child Wade Moor”, he spoke in a thick, yet raspy voice, “What an honor it is to finally meet you.”
Wade was hesitant to shake his hand, but Jared motioned for him to take it. Wade slowly extended his palms until Thuggin's frozen digits closed the gap and he brought himself into the gesture. As soon as their skin met, Wade felt a surge of energy pulse through his arm that made his teeth itch. His mind suddenly recalled a halo of light, blocked out by a slender figure gawking over him, it's dark pupils twitching every so often.
He came back to the room, his eyes sensitive to the light around him. He tipped his hat down just a little over his eyes as they bored into Hacksaw's slanted eyelids. Wade released the death grip he had on Hacksaw's hand, but the man hardly registered the tremendous amount of pain he must have been in. Instead, that Cheshire grin was still splattered across his dough like face.
“Likewise”, Wade replied, his cheeks now flushed with blood.
Wade inched away from Hacksaw, who brought the cigar up to his lips and puffed on it, smoke rings foaming from the edges of his mouth. Wade turned away from the man as Jared walked up behind him and put his arm around Wade's shoulder.
“What's up bruh?” Jared asked with a faux look of concern painted on his face.
After a long moment of hesitation, Wade finally replied.
“He's not really Slovenian, is he?” Wade asked.
“Look man, who gives a shit. With Hacksaw by our side, we're going to do big things, Wade. We'll have the fate of the world in our hands. We only have two choices: are we going to take it? Or drop it like a couple of #fuccboi pussies?”
CYHNK-REGERSSTTTT
*buzz static*
“This is the moment they've all been waiting for, isn't it Joseph? Two men who hold the world – and I ain't talking Za Warudo - in their hands fighting in the middle of that ring to see who has the pleasure of walking out with it? There are only two choices here: I'm going to take it, and you're going to lose like a #fuccboi pussy. Are you laughing Joseph? You should be. That's how I know I have you beat.
“You see...I know you. I know more than what you show on the surface. Some of these guys look at you and they only see Joey Flash. The man who stormed on the scene and captured the Television Championship from Zombie McMorris in his second week. Not a bad move, Joseph...But for someone who claims to be a genius, you're ideas are so simple minded. You could have been like me. You could have been truly great...but you're so pumped full of bravado that it spills out of nearly every orifice of your body. That may scare off your layman, but it won't work for me Joseph.
“I see right through the man you pretend to be, deep down to your core. You see, you spend a lot of time on the fringes of society, you just start to see people that way. Some men look at it as a curse, but for me it's a blessing. It helps me see bullshit coming from miles away, something that every man is filled to the absolute brim with. You'd know. You spend a lot of time on your 'scathing' shoot that it stops to seem like transposition after a while, doesn't it?
“But eventually you spend enough time basking in reflection, you start to actually see yourself for the man you really are. You, Joseph? You're a coward. A snake in the grass. Most importantly, you're lightning in a bottle. You're serving a purpose even you're too dim to comprehend. You've become what you've hated the most Joseph, but you refuse to see it.
“Do you want me to tell you what you are? I'm sure you have an inkling as those crippling fears and doubts bubble to the surface? I'm going to let you sit on that for a while. Digest it for a little bit longer as I decide what to do next. Actually, why don't I ask you? Should I do that savage shit and absolutely burn you to the ground? Or should I do that cutting deep kind of shit?
“Fuck it, I'm going to do both. By the time we get to the end here, there will be no doubt left in anyone's mind that I'll be walking out of Explosion as the rightful World Heavyweight Champion. How does it feel to strap that gold around your waist? Does it feel like you finally come home? Or does it feel like you never left in the first place? That's a problem right there Joesph...your ego. It knows absolutely no bounds, and it's hardly earned. Between a padded win record and a string of absolutely embarrassing losses, you're a man who should – for all intents and purposes – have the biggest check on that smug piece of shit you call a face.
“Don't worry, I'll reintroduce you to the BROSEIDON PUNCH again reeeaal soon.”
A laugh emits from the depths of the recording.
“But back to that padded win record: think back on your time here, Joseph. I mean, really think about it for a second. Who have you really beaten besides Oblivion, John Gable, and Gemini Battle? Other than that it's a string of nobodies attached to names that have long since been forgotten. I mean, the first chance you get to actually face some real competition other than those three, you've absolutely shit the bit.
“That match against Adam Young that you 'threw'? Don't make me fucking laugh. And I don't even need to remind you of the Grime fiasco, do I? These are your accomplishments Joesph. These are the things that you'll be remembered for, long after you've shuffled off this mortal coil. It won't be your storied 'rivalry' with your friend Dune, and it damn sure won't be your 'epic' victory over Jayson Price.
“I wondered how long it would be before you tried to shove that in my face, like I already don't relive it every day of my life. How long did it take you? About a week? That's your A plus game BOI?! Fucking ridiculous. Let me let you in on a not too well known secret: the Jayson Price I fought was a completely different man from the one you faced, and to think anything else would be asinine.
“I was up against a reborn Jayson Price. That man that saw his one last shot of glory slowly slipping through his fingers. He had all the motivation in the world to snatch up that World Championship...and I just had a match against Jayson Price. I'll admit, I was cocky. I mean, it's Jayson Price, right? What did I have to worry about? He's a fucking plebeian who's wrestling skill speaks for itself...on and off. That night he was on, and my mind was elsewhere. He beat me, I'm a man enough to admit that. But that's a mistake I won't ever make again. I fucking promise you, Joseph...but you? You're so quick to rush into yet another mistake as if the evidence you pile against it isn't so glaringly obvious.
“How long has it been since your son died, Joseph? A few months? That should have been a pivotal moment in your life, one where it's time to decide what kind of man you want to be. You seemed to have seen the error in your simpleton, hate-mongering line of thinking...but you had one of the most limp-dicked face turns in the history of WSeaF that amounted to nothing more than a plug for a grieving parents organization.
“#BeachKrew did more for Christains death than you did...we've done more for your child than you ever have in your whole life. When that's the fact of the matter? Man, you're more of a coward than I originally believed you were.
“I'm sure you told him every night as you hurriedly tucked him into his bed, his nightlight parent in the corner providing more comfort than you ever could, and told him that everything was going to be OK? He didn't have to worry about anything in life because he had you to hold his hand. His father? The man he looked up to? What a lie, Joseph. What a FUCKING LIE!
“What kind of man would create a child in this world and not lead him into it? You see, that strikes a personal chord with me Joseph. My old man was kind of like you, a drunken brutish child trapped inside of a grown man's body. He used to beat my ass whenever he felt like it. You should have at least done that for Christain...at least you wouldn't have had to falsify what he really had to look forward to in life.
“What do you think was going through his developing little mind as he dropped towards that concrete floor, Joseph? Do you think he was wondering when his heroic father would show up and save him from his horrendous fate? Do you think he felt like everything was going to be OK, Joseph? Don't kid yourself. In those final seconds, he finally had an epiphany: he finally realized that everything you ever told him was total bullshit.
“Those were your sons final thoughts of his father. He finally realized what an utter coward you are. You weren't born with the skill set to be a real man, but you've been masquerading around as one since you joined the WSeaF. Me? Maybe I wasn't born with that skill set either, but I'm a quick study. How do you think I became the World Champion so quickly?
“I didn't have to spend time piddling around in the midcard, taking weeks off whenever it suited me, circle jerking with Dune over some revenge nonsense. When I wanted to kill Scarecrow, I immediately took the fight to him. I may not have been the man to push him from that scaffolding, but you have no idea how bad I wanted to do it. Still, to watch him die in the center of that ring, to have that referee complete his count to ten...that. That's what revenge is Joseph.
“I sure didn't need my friends help to do it. That was my fight. They had no dog in it. If that blood was going to be on anyone's hands, it was going to be mine...but you had to drag Howard Black and Occulo into your business. That makes you weak, Joseph. Though you never spoke, you practically begged for them for their help. That's why the Sentinels came running to your fight.
“What happened out in that desert? What happened to Dune? Because the Dune I've been staring down for the last few weeks has only the fraction of the power he used to hold? This ones let Joey Flash take the forefront, preferring to hide back in the shadows with the likes of Occulo. That's not Dune. That's a dry husk that you're slowly burning from the inside out. You've emasculated Dune and masked it as respect.
“But you don't have respect for anyone. You believe Dune to be your greatest adversary, your greatest rival...but you didn't count on me being the next one to try and take what you have. How much do you have to lose before you realize that everything that's ever happened to you is entirely your fault? When you spend your life taking and taking Joey, eventually somebody comes to take from you. That's why I'm here.
“I'm the reaper you didn't count on, come to collect.
“I'm The Leviathan.
“And you're in so fucking deep”
*buzz static*
CYHNK-REGERSSTTT
Part I: In Relation To The Arbiter
♫The Artbiter plays his own game, you'll have a difficult time keeping him tame♫
The plume of cigar smoke runs arbitrary to the silver sleek polished look of the room that Stone Cold Steve Bostin and Hacksaw Jim Thuggin are currently inhabiting. The vapor hits the Bostin's nostrils, but he pays little to no attention to it as he continues his work. His spindly fingers plug away at a large keyboard, filled with foreign symbols and ethereal gadgets unrecognized. Hacksaw takes another long drag off of his cigar and exhales the smoke into the head space. Bostin scoffs, his face remaining stone cold as he does. Within an instant, Jim Thuggin is behind Bostin as if he floated along the floor towards him. Bostin smells the stench of tobacco and warm breath from behind him and whips around to face Thuggin.
♫The Artbiter plays his own game, you'll have a difficult time keeping him tame♫
“Don't patronize me”, Jim Thuggin speaks quietly, “You know exactly why The Arbiter is on our side. The operation we induced between Earth Child Jared and Earth Child Wade?”
♫Do you dare question my knowledge? To do so would be folly♫
“I'm not questioning your knowledge”, Jim Thuggin replied in a sly manner, “I'm simply reiterating. Stating facts. It's what separates us from the animals Bostin.”
Bostin smiles and turns back towards the monitor, whistling aloud as he works.
♫So if it's not too late, would you please reiterate?♫
Jim Thuggin begins to pace the floor, his loafer clad feet barely touching the glossy floor beneath them. He puffs on his cigar some more and the entire chamber fills with the hot secondhand smoke.
“Well, as you know, we performed a very dangerous operation between Earth Child Jared and Earth Child Wade. One that, if the entire fate of our race weren't hanging by a single thread, would have landed us all an execution order. We had to make sure that they were Of Prophecy, and that was the only way. We all knew the risks we were taking when we gifted them that knowledge, and the procedure to wipe the memories of this experience from their already fragile minds was double that.”
♫ If I could, I would tsk, but you don't have to remind me of the risk♫
“Of course you know”, Jim Thuggin replied, “As I was saying, the operation was extremely risky. If even one of them wasn't Of Prophecy, their minds wouldn't have survived it...but the reward clouded our judgment, and speaking to our luck? The two survived and we had our Harbinger and Arbiter. Two of the most important men in the entire world and they were finally in our hands. I shouldn't have to reiterate how important that was to this mission?”
♫For the sake of the tale, would you do me a kindness and regale?♫
“I always knew you had a poetic soul, Bostin.”
Bostin turns his head on a swivel, face still emotionless.
♫Then perhaps you know this fact, it threw the prophecy off it's track♫
Hacksaw, for the first time in his entire life, felt his larshna fall into his gloding. His leathery face flushed and all the color drained away. His cigar fell from his spider like finger tips and a dust cloud of ash spread across the floor. He grabbed Bostin around the arm and whipped him around, Steve's face still devoid of any emotion.
“What are you talking about Bostin?! Explain yourself!”
Bostin scoffs once again.
“So perhaps we can drop the act?” Bostin asks in a normal voice, “I'm getting rather tired of that.”
Hacksaw releases Bostin from his hold and inches a few feet away.
“You know the risks of that operation and the one we performed afterwards. You know we were careless and neglected the long term post op results. We thought we had everything in hand, but there were some...side effects we failed to catch. When we performed the operation, we weaved together the minds of the Arbiter and the Harbinger and gifted them the knowledge to communicate in our language. We unfastened a portion of their mind that's better left under lock and key.”
“What does that mean for the prophecy?” Hacksaw asks, a note of concern creeping in through his raspy voice.
“Nothing good, Jim”, Bostin replies, concern underlying his voice as well, “At worst, the two could team together to take the Prophecy into their own hands. Completely cut us out of the deal, and after all of our hard work? That wouldn't end well. As in total annihilation. We have to keep the two in ch...”
Bostin turns on his heel, his shoe finally squeaking against the chromatic floor.
“DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN THIS?!” Hacksaw yells, his emotion levels rising.
Bostin holds out his hands.
“Please, calm yourself Thuggin”, Bostin says in an attempt to quell Thuggin, “I've only just learned this. I've been noticing a change in behavior of Earth Child Wade ever since he last won the World Championship in that dreadful wrestling federation. Something...more confident comes to the forefront, something more sinister.”
Thuggin rubs the prickly hairs growing from his chin.
“We've always known what Earth Child Wade was capable of. Remember when we found him? The man had just committed patricide.”
Bostin snaps his skinny fingers.
“A crime of raw emotion and sheer passion! For a man to kill his own blood? That doesn't take a LACK of remorse...it takes a SURGE of humanoid emotions. No...Wade's lack of emotion doesn't come from him...it stems from Earth Child Jared. When we weaved together their minds, we connected them down to the very core. These humans speak of spirits...and maybe, just maybe, they exist. When we performed this operation, we didn't know how deep those waters would run.”
Hacksaw fell backwards into a levitating chair, which barely dipped underneath the pressure.
“I believe I just fully realized the implications of our actions. If these humans truly do have a soulful presence...then by assuring our fulfillment of the Prophecy may have been our very own undoing.”
Bostin holds his finger out towards Thuggin.
“So you see now, by binding their 'souls' together like that, we have accidentally created another Harbinger. Two Arbiters. They both have the ability to fulfill or thwart the Prophecy. Something that is very dangerous. We can control one? But two? We're going to have our hands full.”
Hacksaw drops his head in hands for a moment before looking up towards Bostin.
“Not only that, but if we truly bound our Earth Children's 'souls' together...then if one of them dies, the other will.”
This time, Bostin falls backwards into his chair.
“Oh.”
Hacksaw drops his head into his hands once more.
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*buzz static*
“So have you been thinking about what I was talking about Joseph? Have I let you sit on it long enough? Have you been basking in your own reflection, wondering what nugget of knowledge I could possibly drop on you to make you question your very own existence? I think so Joseph, I think it's time to drop this bomb on you...even though I assume you know what I'm going to say.
“You're just an effigy, Joseph, a ghost of somebody else' past...you're just a doll for a man to dress up, a puppet on a fucking string. Should I remind you? Let's see, let's see if this will spark your memory, shall we? So we have a no good kid from the streets of New York, builds his own empire from 'scratch' and decides to become a wrestler. All well and good. Hey, maybe he's trying to go legit? Make some legal paper for once in his life?
“Wins the Television championship early into his career, and within a year he's World Champion. Wins that World Championship and cements his place and his future legacy as the top guy in the WSeaF. Seth falls in love with him, wanks it every night to his picture? This sound pretty familiar? You might know the guy I'm talking about:
“Damn, that shit's crazy huh? Maybe you thought I was talking about you? You guys have almost followed the absolute same career path to the letter. Hey, maybe this isn't such a bad comparison, if you're ok with your role in all of this? Something tells me you don't like to be heir used Joseph? Because that's all Seth is doing...he's making you his Johnny Fly lite, to curb that Fly fix he can't seem to get out of his system.
“What would it mean for you if Johnny Fly walked back through those doors? Seth would drop you like a bad habit because he has the real thing back. Johnny Fly is Coca-Cola and you're Diet RC. Give it a week and Seth wouldn't even remember your name? Joey Flash? That the guy from catering? Former World Champion, what?! That would be your fate, Joseph. You'd be a long forgotten memory of a long forgotten memory.
“Still, comparing you to Johnny Fly isn't really too bad. I mean, he did rather well for himself, right? You're one hell of a wrestler, Joseph. If you have one thing in your life, it's talent...but Johnny Fly never had a Wade Moor to deal with. I'm the inconstant in a constantly changing world. Nobody ever expected me to win the World Championship in the first place, but I took their expectations and I dropped them on their fucking head.
“When I won the World Championship, it wasn't a fluke. It's because I wanted it...I never thought I would, but the minute I saw that shining gold and that glossy leather, I just had to have it around my waist. While you're busy making trash can fat jokes, I was busy reclaiming that World Championship like my life depended on it...because I realized what was at stake. Have you figured it out yet, Joseph? Have you started feeling the pressure yet?
“Because there's more at stake than the World Championship? That's probably all you're worried about. Defending. Defending your championship? A real champion doesn't 'defend' his championship Joseph. He realizes the implications behind getting in that ring as champion. Some men can handle the pressure, and some men buckle underneath it. You like the latter, even though you'll claim to be the former.
“This is your very first time stepping into the ring as World Champion, and just like every other time you get handed a real singles challenge like your pal Occulo, you're going to fuck it up. I'm the only one in walking into this ring what it's like to step into as World Champion, and I know how to leave with that belt around my waist. Holding on that Television Championship was small time in comparison to the task that lays before you.
“When you beat ZMAC for that belt, what was it that you said incredulously? That maybe one day you'd be fighting Godzilla in a cage match? You got it pretty close, but still for all that foresight, you won't be able to see the beating I'm going to lay on you at Explosion. Because I am your Godnilla, the ring is my cage. This Sunday, you're going to be locked in there with me...and it's going to be the fight of your life.
“How much do you love the fight Joseph? I'm going to beat the love of it out of you, on the end of a BROSIEDON PUNCH and an Unleash The Leviathan.
“That's a promise you're not going to like.
“And I plan on keeping it.”
*buzz static*
CYHNK-REGERSSTTT
Part II: Nacho
In the middle of the once thriving industrial Motor City – once known as the home of Motown – sat Wade in the driver seat of his black Camaro. He was alone again after bailing out on Andre back at the diner they had stopped at to eat. He gripped his phone in his hand, waiting for what he didn't know. After receiving that text from the unknown source, he was expecting another, but behind it left a wave of anxiety and questions.
How heavy was the Owl presence in Detroit? Who was texting him? It enraged him to know that his immediate future rested in the hands of a brick of plastic, glass, and wire. That phone became slippery under his sweaty palm, but the leathery gauntlet with the faux thumb kept it in place. He drove down the road and parked in an empty lot, waiting for anything to come.
He began to think about his upcoming World Championship match with Joseph and everything that rested on it. Joseph had already made his strength clear when he defeated one of the finest trios #BeachKrew had ever produced...but he was unable to seal the deal against Wade's squad. The entirety of #BeachKrew's reputation could be staked on this match, and that was something that Wade wouldn't let slip through the cracks.
Even though they had their differences lately, Wade still felt connected to Jared. He still felt connected to #BeachKrew, now more than ever. They were his family, more than Joseph could say for Dune and Occulo. He felt the whole of #BeachKrew's fate rested on his shoulder, and it was a burden he was willing to bear. If he didn't walk out of Explosion as World Champion...he shuddered to think what would happen.
Besides this...this was easier to deal with than the situation he had left behind at that roach motel. Being in the ring was natural for Wade, fighting for what he wanted...dealing with anything outside of it felt unwieldy. Clumsy. Wade wasn't sure what real life was for, especially since it seemed like he had an occult group of zealots chasing after him.
And then there was Hacksaw Jim Thuggin.
Wade knew how to fake being human, so he could see right through Thuggin's disguise. The way he smiled, the way he talked, it was all so manufactured. He didn't know who – or what he was – but he was sure they would find out sooner rather than later.
As Wade began to churn over the thoughts in his mind, his phone buzzed in his hand. Wade lifted it up, unlocked it, and checked the text waiting for him.
Unknown
“Quicken Loans Building. Roof.” - a friend
Wade peeled out of the parking lot and rushed to the destination, the phone working it's GPS as well as it could. Some time later, he was parked in a parking garage leading to the Quicken Loans Building. He took the elevator to the top, pressing the buttons as quick as he could to the top. On the roof, the crisp spring wind blew like a blade against a sharpener. Wade looked around the roof, but couldn't find anyone or anything.
What the fuck is this, Wade thought to himself. Who the fuck is messaging me?
As he finished his thought, the door behind him closed shut. A man stood there, shoulder length dirty blonde hair sitting in a mess on his head. He wore a duster coat over some hastily thrown together pieces of clothing – jean shorts, turtleneck sweater, and a pair of black boots. He held his hands up as Wade turned on him, but Wade closed the distance anyways and slammed him up against the closed door.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Wade shouted, “WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!”
The man held his arms up, pleading with Wade.
“Please, please, listen to me”, the man argued, “I'm a friend, I swear!”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!” Wade yelled as he threw the man to the concrete floor of the rooftop.
The man rolled a few feet as Wade approached, fist drawn ready to throw a punch to the man's face, but he only held up his hands in defense.
“My name is Nacho! I know Hacksaw Jim Thuggin!”
Wade stopped his swing, but still kept his arm outstretched ready to put the man down if he gave any indication of offense.
“What do you want with me?” Wade asked, breathing heavily.
Nacho picked himself up off the floor while brushing the dust off of his jacket.
“I have something very important to show you. It concerns the Galactic Prophecy.”
Wade's brow furrowed as he stared down the rummy looking man.
“The what?”
CYHNK-REGERSSTTTT
*buzz static*
“Za Warudo sucks. Just a #botcheddroptoehold LOL”
*buzz static*
CYHNK-REGERSTTTT
