Post by bigbuffjuice on Feb 2, 2017 5:08:45 GMT
Las Vegas County Jail
January 31st
1:32 PM
There was clanging and there was banging. So much billy club on steel and rock pounding, yet the guards could not wake Ron from his deep sleep. Their solution? Taser to the buttcheek.
Ron: (Drowsily) Fuck bro….I hate mosquitoes….and shit….
No use, he fell right back to sleep. Another couple of zaps got him screaming, and finally scrambling up from his bed sheet. He expected to see a swarm of mosquitoes, yet instead he saw a room full of laughing pigs.
Ron: Fuck bro don’t be stingin’ my ass with mosquitoes and shit!
His response only brought on more laughter, and in turn caused Ron’s face to grow to a dull red tint. Grit teeth and clenched fists were about to lead to something regrettable. Until…
Guard: Surprise Ron! You’re getting out of here buddy!
His thumping heart rate gradually slowed down, and his fists unfurled from their face smashing position. Ron took a deep breath and counted to ten, following his buddy Toast’s sage advice. After doing so he smiled at the guard and proceeded out of his solitary confinement room. The joy of freedom struck Ron, and he started singing a shitty out of tune, non-rhyming song to himself to show off his happiness.
Ron: Fuck yeah fucked some dudes bro fucked all these fucking bitches they try to act tough and shit and I buttfuck them and shit I’m tough I’m the booty warrior fuck all these bitches
As he walked down the corridor of prisoners there wasn’t a single remark from them. Pure quiet out of fear of the atrocities he had committed in less than a month of being locked up. This only made Ron louder with his offensive and repeating song, eventually getting the guards to bust out laughing. They would miss Ron, for all the wrong reasons.
Waiting for him in the lounge/pick-up area were his faithful companions Toast and Zach, who held up a ‘YOU’RE THE MAN!’ sign to which Ron in turn screamed.
Ron: I’m the fuckin’ man! I buttfucked like 31 guys in there and shit!!
The guards behind Ron couldn’t help but laugh as the jubilant man child nodded and grinned with such pride. Zack’s mouth dropped, speechless. Toast did a jumping fist to the air, then pounded it down to the ground on landing, then wagged his hand in pain. Once properly recovered, he high fived Ron with his good hand.
Toast: One for every day of the month!
Ron: Fuck yeah bro!
Laughter followed the guards out the door as they proceeded to share their own personal stories of Swat in action. Ron looked ecstatic, ready to release aggression via physical damage or sexually. Possibly both.
Toast: Alright Ron, I know what you want….
Ron: DRINKS!!!!
Toast: I know Ron, but…
Ron: DRINKS!!!!
Zach: Ron, you need….
Ron: DRINKS!!!!
Toast: OKAY FINE. Drinks. But first….
Toast whipped out a plane ticket from the inner pocket of his stained white leisure suit jacket. It was presented to the confused Swat, who took it and stared at it blankly.
Toast: That right there is a plane ticket. Slaine wants you to meet with him tomorrow in Arizona at the Phoenix Headquarters.
After hearing that he couldn’t help but look completely stumped. Nearly a month in jail, and now he’s being summoned to the president’s office?
Zach: Don’t sweat it Ron. It might be something good, you never know. All we ask is you let us know how the meeting went when you get out.
Ron looked down to the ticket, then up to his boys with a depressed look.
Ron: I guess so...and shit….
Toast couldn’t stand seeing his buddy down. He had to help him out of this predicament, and there was only one way.
Toast: ….Drinks?
Slowly he tilted his head up. That frown blossomed into a big smile, accompanied by enthusiastic nodding.
Ron: DRINKS!!!!
The three chanted “DRINKS!!!!” over and over again as they left the pick up area and headed to the parking lot. Drinks first, plane flight later.
Phoenix Wrestling Headquarters
Phoenix, Arizona
February 1st
9:30 am
Oh what a couple months of renovation can do. Once a rundown Michaels Arts and Crafts warehouse, Slaine had completely dug out and replaced the building from the inside, making it look like an official headquarters. Ron was in awe of all the staff members busily zipping by him as he power walked in an incredibly tight white dress shirt and tight navy blue slacks. On his way to the back office he passed an over fifty grandma in good shape, making sure to give her a wink, smile, and a “how you doing?” She smiled back with a look of fear/attraction on her face. This got Ron more confident as he started to whistle his buttfuck tune he made up, realizing that people wouldn’t appreciate the lyrics. He came to a set of swinging oak double doors, and pushed through into a renovated backroom area that was now one giant office. Ron looked to the right of the velvet carpet corridor and caught a glimpse of Slaine’s built-in mini golf course. A voice called his attention to the arcade lined left corridor.
Slaine: C’mon on over Ron! Have a seat!
As Ron saw Slaine’s smile he loosened up even more, giggling a little as he went up to shake Slaine’s hand. He then did what he was told and had a seat, eyes ahead filled with wonder as he stared at the grey bearded face of Slaine Rodrick.
Ron: So like….why did you call me here bro?
Before he started his teaching lesson, Slaine took a swig from his fiery Phoenix logo coffee mug. Enjoying the finest coffee only a true coffee person could enjoy, such as Death Wish.
Slaine: Well Ron, after what happened at two shows back to back, and your subsequent arrest, we need to talk.
A sigh came from the mongoloid’s lips, already knowing what was coming. He turned his head down, avoiding eye contact with the president.
Ron: You’re gonna fire me and shit….aren’t you?
Slaine: No no no Ron settle down brother! You’re way too good of a talent to fire over a first offense. You’ve been loyal to this company, and I appreciate that. Because of your loyalty, I’m booking you in a tag team gauntlet qualifier. You will team with Mason Daniels, and you two will face off against Rowyn Starr and Chris Andrew.
Ron was already privy to the information, having heard about the match from Toast during one of his many conjugal visits. Nonetheless to hear about the match from the main man himself got him giddy as could be. In a happy burst he jumped out of his chair and pounded on his chest like a gorilla.
Slaine: Alright Ron, I get it, your happy. But know that I’m giving you that match as a token of goodwill. I’m trusting you Ron, and I need you to trust me. Just know that if you try to rape either man, or anyone else from this point on, you will not only face lengthy jail time, you will also face suspension pending termination. In other words, your job will be on the line. Do I make myself clear?
The news wilted the blooming rose that was Ron Swat, reducing him to a crumpled mess in the chair as he nodded weakly.
Ron: Yeah….I guess so and shit….Sorry bro.
Slaine: It’s fine Ron. I see your potential and I want you to capitalize on it. Don’t let your emotions ruin your career. Thank you for coming.
Slaine stood, bringing Ron to stand. He presented his hand one more time, and Ron shook it as he shamefully avoided eye contact. Ron left the lavish office and headed for the double doors, but was stopped in his tracks by Slaine’s voice.
Slaine: Please don’t make me regret giving you this opportunity Ron.
Ron looked back, meekly nodded, then headed through the double doors. Sometimes even a homicidal bully needs a good talking to.
Zach’s blog
February 1st
Later in the evening
Well well well, look at what we have here. I get out of county and here is a nice gift from Phoenix, wrapped and ready for me to tear open. It’s not the match with Richard Roque that I wanted, but I fully expected that bitch to do what he does best, bitch out. Being Slaine’s simultaneous bitch boy and sugar daddy has it’s benefits, like avoiding people who would rip your head off your neck and nose fuck your brains out the back of your head. I don’t blame Richard, I’m a scary motherfucker. Just ask the bitches at Las Vegas County Jail, they’ll tell you how much I terrorize and conquer. Just know that eventually I will get my match with you, and when I do I’m going to deform you with a murderous, hate fueled fist mauling.
Until then, Slaine decided to calm down a beast like me by giving me two nice big fat juicy steaks by the name of Chris Andrew and Rowyn Starr. Now those who have seen me as of late know I got Andrew wrapped around my finger. He was just minutes away from being deflowered by me before the suit wearing moleman Roque decided to stick his colossal nose in my business. While I made a promise to Slaine not to finish the job (but I do badly want to though), I will however beat that shaggy haired little twink to the point of unconscious. So it might not be the smooth hairless highway ride I was looking for, but it’s violently satisfying nonetheless. I was already excited when he mentioned Chris Andrew’s name for a rematch, but then he mentioned Pooh boy’s partner…
The depressed alcoholic Indian shithead Rowyn Starr, aka Eeyore. At one time this horse haired, horse faced rain dancer decided it would be a good idea to stand up to me. What happened? Homeboy got fucked up in the parking lot. I’ll give credit to Rowyn for having the balls to stand up to me, but that Rowyn has long since faded. He’s been replaced with this floppy moccasin wearing clown who always has a dark cloud looming over his head. Ever since Masaru and Mason have entered his life, we’ve seen one of the best PW has ever had become an emo weirdo. He’s given up, he just does not care anymore. And it’s sad, it really is….seeing someone, well, one of the few on this roster who had the balls to stand up to me dissolve into a depressed, dreary snowflake. This dude has more of a reason than ever to give a shit now and instead he’s totally fine with some crazy dude kidnapping his sister. If even seeing his own family in distress isn’t enough to snap him out of this selfish funk, then nothing is.
Mason, you did a damn good job. I mean, I’m kinda pissed you got to kidnap someone and don’t even get a slap on the wrist while I attempt rape and get arrested. But even though you didn’t get in trouble, you did what you set out to do.
You broke Rowyn Starr. He’s going to show up physically for the match but inside the dude has already checked out. This might be the easiest win I get since coming back, and I’m not one to look an Indian horse in the mouth. So Mason, I hope you’re ready to come out guns ablazin’ at Redemption 105. If we get a spot in the gauntlet? Cool, I’m down for it. All I know is that once that bell rings it’s my mission to make the cutie pie rookie and the dude from the Keep America Beautiful ad regret that they signed on for this match. You want to succeed in PW Mason? I’d be glad to help you out with that.
Here’s to a great tag team in the making. I was thinking of some tag team names, what do you think?
Juicehawk
Psycho A Go Go
Ron and Mason’s Violent Adventures
Hit me back bro!
OOC: Word Count 1970