(continued from backstory in "Aw, Shut the Fuck Up")


-Late 2002, Northwest Long Beach, CA-


Jesus H Christ...this guy just stepped outta '98 and into 2002.

Dusty, looking as rail thin and fragile as the last day I saw him back in senior year, exits from his beater '93 Honda Civic and slams the door. He grins at me, flashing those chipped front teeth of his, offering a "what's up" snap of the head.

"S'up Jim_bo_!?"

"What's up", you motherfucker? We'll find out, won't we...

I catch myself frowning and consciously force a smile, though the crinkled brow remains.

"Dustyyyyyy. How you been bro?"

"Chillin' like a villain, man."

You fuckin' douche...I should strangle you just for sayin' chillin' like a villain.

Dusty crosses the sidewalk and traverses the dog shit laden expanse of grass before shuffling across the dirt of the Coolidge Park baseball diamond, sending up dust clouds the wind catches and whips away as quickly as they appear. I squirm on the bleacher bench I'm sitting on, wanting so very badly to hop down, dash and devastate. Instead, I stand, step down casually and walk over to meet him at the nearest edge of the diamond. I return his hand slap fistbump combo, though I make sure to dap nice and stiff.

"Ow. Still wrestling huh?"

"Not as much anymore." Which was true; the deeper into tweak I got, the fewer calls for matches I'd respond to. They were nothing more than opening bouts for an indy but if I ever wanted to be taken seriously, I'd have to change my attitude. At the time, however, I didn't give a damn. "Didja bring it?"

"Yeah it's right he-"

I stop him from producing the gram from his pocket, making a show of looking around nervously. Truth was, hardly anyone around here cared and those who did, 9 times out of 10 wouldn't bother calling LBPD. But...this had to feel natural.

"Not here."

Dusty looks at me incredulously.

"Not here?" He laughs. "Why didn't we just meet at your house then like you originally said?"

Fuck...that's a good question. Goddamn sprack...fucking with my logic.

I think fast and nod to a large group of mexicans enjoying a family fiesta about 200 feet away at the park tables.

"They weren't here when I changed it to the park. It's usually empty at this time."

Weak. I hope he buys it.

"Oh...well where should we go?"

Nice.

I laugh this time. "I guess to my house."

A minute and a half walk in silence later, we arrive just down 65th Street to my family's two story home at 311. I lead Dusty through the side fence to the backyard, explaining my mom will be able to smell the remnants of a shit session when she gets home later if we smoke inside.

No one ever expected to stroll into the jungle representing the 311 house backyard the first time they'd follow me in. Dusty had the same reaction. Grape vines covering trellises, three fruit trees (orange, lemon and apricot) with canopies breaking up most of the direct sunlight, a strawberry patch, roses, calla lilies, snapdragons and patches of jimsonweed (_there's_ an experience in early '03) all enclosed by high brick walls and close proximity of the garage and neighboring structures.

"Dude, it's a fucking-"

"Jungle, I know. Wait here, I'll get the money and the pook'. You smoke yeah?"

Dusty nods absently as he takes in the scenery.

I make my way back around through the side gate and up to the front double doors I left unlocked. I catch my reflection in the mirrored wall of the foyer, pass by the locked security door leading upstairs to the black landlords', The Givins, second floor abode (when they were in town) and open my family's first floor door.

Although I'd done my best to forget my most recent actual girlfriend, Kristie McEvilly, and the ensuing bad break-up, I still hadn't gotten over the memory of Heather Harris. My first at fifteen. The mutual break-up rooted in youthful wont for not necessarily greener but _not you_ pastures. The second go-round my senior year and how I'd allowed myself to become attached...and of course the events in the band room wherein Dusty and his cohort Sean had seen the fruits of their brainwashing labors harvested in Heather's outburst and my reactionary raising of the arm. The humiliation...

After I'd graduated, Heather shockingly still my girlfriend at the time, I'd heard rumors of her being seen with Dusty during the summer. I still remembered the day I arrived at her family's modest home in Lakewood unexpectedly on an August afternoon. I'd ignored her reaction; afterall, I HAD surprised her. It wasn't until we'd moved into her room to fuck, when she'd removed her jeans and underwear, that I'd immediately noticed the redness of a pussy that'd recently taken a beating.

Looking back on it, I can't believe I hadn't reacted with rage, but I hadn't. I'd been hit hard. I knew she'd literally just fucked another before I'd arrived. I'd probably just missed him-

My last image of Dusty in the backyard flashes before my eyes.

It was you. I know it was you. First you set me up for that bullshit in class, then you moved in on her. We had a deal. A friendship. You crossed the line.

My hand finds both my 6 inch hunting knife I'd acquired as a Boy Scout (and would later use to...interrogate my future murderer's meth weight dealer as seen in "Like a Moth to the Flame") as well as the pookie wrapped in a blue bandanna. I pocket both then turn to exit my room and return to an awaiting Dusty.

TBC

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(continued from "Aw, Shut the Fuck Up")


"Fuckin' the Past"






The well dressed young man of Italian descent (sent to retrieve me for a sit down in Nevada with my mysterious medical marijuana grow silent partner) had respectfully introduced himself as Carmine, responded to my wary reaction to my being sent for with an affirmation that nothing was wrong and had even shocked me with the revelation that he just so happened to be an XWF fan.

He'd refused to offer much else in the way of information relating to why I'd been pulled off the studio lot and summoned in the first place but he'd been talking my fucking ear off since showing me to the stretch limo (in which sat three buxom hookers, Lord help me) and a full hour into the ride.

I'd no interest in raising the ire of a man undoubtedly armed, so I'd been patient as long as possible before feeling the itch to respond to the promos of both Chris Chaos and Thaddeus Duke, my opponents for High Stakes II in a Triple Threat 60 Minute Iron Man Match for the Universal Championship. The deadline was catching up faster than I was, I knew I needed to figure a way to fight back with what little free time I could find.

So I interrupted Carmine during his listing of his favorite XWF Superstars over the last 10 years and asked him if he'd be interested in helping me shoot a promo. Thankfully, he'd proven more than willing and a few moments later...I found myself being given the nod for action.

((responding to Duke promos 3, 4 and 5, more of Chaos's 1st and of course, his 2nd))

I stare into the lens, deathly serious.

"So...you're gonna defeat me then kick ME outta Ax3, Chris?"

I try...by GOD I try my damndest...but I can't help it. I erupt with laughter. And not just "that's pretty funny" laughter, the stuff tearful hilarity is made of.

The amusement lasts awhile, at some point Carmine, the hookers and the driver up front join in, more than likely having not the slightest idea what I'm even referencing with the exception of Carmine himself.

Eventually the laughter dies down.

I pull the closest hooker over, wipe my eyes with her hair and shove her back outta frame before returning my gaze to the lens.

"Chris...when'd you go full on us all? And don't get me wrong, it isn't that I'm laughing at the concept of you dealin' damage in the match or doubting you have it in you to defeat me, you do just like Thadly, though you won't be and neither will he......but "kicking me outta Ax3"? Without a doubt that's the stinkiest stack o' horseshit ever to plop outta your prick polisher. Main doesn't dig you and Graves wants to wound you. Not to mention, they aren't sheep, shithead. What the FUCK has you believin' they'd ever turn on their brother and be aligning with you again after what you've already pulled? That's...that's fuckin' childlike logic, lightweight. "You're gonna kick me out? I'm gonna kick YOU out!" Yes, then the three o' you will start singin' "Na Na Na Na" while Graves and Main cuddle up on either side o' you and start tag team jackin' you off. You poor, sad, sack o' starry-eyed expectations... "I'm gonna kick YOU out of Ax3!" What's that, your Make-a-Wish request? Sorry dummy, you're gonna hafta die unsatisfied. Unfuckinbelievable. You and I, we ain't competing for the love of Micheal and Robert, we ain't racing for a spot in Ax3. My brothers and I ARE Ax3 and ain't nothin' gonna change that. Stop tryin' to revive rumors of Ax3 troubles, the only problem is you and to a certain extent, Thadly.

Which reminds me...you're goddamn right I was about to kick you out. Did you hear any objections raised from anyone else? Shit, I should kick you out right NOW...but I won't. Oh no...no you deserve that assured bomb droppage in the form of a kick to the clit when you're down, dimwit, right after someone other than you is announced the winner of the match. With enough cruelty in the executing of said removal, we'll all be treated to the same misty eyed lil' lass we saw on Savage some time ago during Kato's time in office after Reno dumped you, homo. Remember that, Christina? Recall cryin' like a bitch? Yeah...is that "REAL" Big Dick Daddy enough for ya?

Save the statements on good looks while you accuse me of bein' gay, . More to the point...is that really the avenue you're takin' against me? The same ol' inaccurate insults of bearded redneck this and homeless that, you clipped clean queen? Lemme get this straight...you, supposedly a _man_, in PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING...are tryin' to talk shit on beards? You know who does that? Feminine douchebags who can't grow one or at best, manage to sprout a patchy piece o' shit, one step above high school dirty upper lips and chin pubes, punk. Whinin' about my bein', in your opinion, a poor choice for the face of this company? The truth is, what you claim amounts to nothin' more than contrived filler for a promo combined with your less than masculine concept of what makes a champion. _I_ do, Chris. Outside...and inside. People have been cheering me on because they can relate to me. A man crushed beneath the heel of life, losing all he has, all he loves, refusing to give up, rising above, fighting through...to actually attain a lofty goal few others in this world have. Most people would compare you to an asshole who treats others poorly for the helluvit. And Duke? No one can relate to him at all. The bottom line, however, is it wasn't my looks that got me here in the first place, Chris. What got me here is the same thing that'll see my arm raised at the conclusion of our 60 minute Hell in Vegas. My indomitable will and my skill. You'll be a believer soon enough.

You boast of it taking you less than 6 months to attain the Uni Title. What's that mean, 5 months and 30 days in a 31 day month? Bitch, it took me about three. Fuck are you braggin' about?

You thought what you saw in my eyes was fear? Doubt? Hopelessness? Mhm. You tryin' to convince _yourself_ of that, Chris? I fear no one, least of all the thot twat who allowed a lowly TV Champ Caedus to punk his ass publicly oh so long ago. Doubt? All I doubt is whether or not you'll be able to continue competing in the XWF in the near future. You have no friends, chump. You've already lost that which made you "great" to begin with. Once you've lost your shot at my Uni title and the protection of Ax3, you'll have nothing, including credibility. Hopelessness? That there was a reflection of your own eyes in my own. We've all been witnessing Thaddeus sting the shit outta you over and over again and while he IS nothin' more than mid-card level skill, it's done a number on your confidence. Me? I've just been far too busy for a Universal Champion's comfort. What is there for me to lose hope over? You crumbling to a kid? That same kid thinkin' he can overcome ME with a whole slew of meh worthy words and promos? You titled your first vignette "I Stand Alone" and you do, Chris, in all aspects mental and physical. Don't ever make assumptions, you ain't good at it. All you do is describe yourself in others. You need to realize, Chris Chaos is done. End of story. Now shut the fuck up and move aside while the real competitors in this match continue."

A waving arm from Carmine pulls my eyes from the lens as he fumbles with his phone. A moment later he holds it up, pointing to the XWF99.com display on the screen.

"What, did he just do a third? Fine by me. 3rd strike. I'll deal with that in the next promo. Onto Thaddeus...

Ahhh, Thadly...you've done a fantastic job on Chaos. Superlative even. Good boy. Of course, everything you've said to him COMBINED doesn't match what I have in a fraction of the time you've wasted exhibiting how narcissistic and in love with your own voice you truly are. And some people say _I_ talk too much. Jesus Christ...

Yes, I "finally joined" the festivities. I'm that dick showin' up fashionably late, the life of the party...and guess what? Everyone's been waitin' to see ME, not you. You've proven an excellent opening act but that's all you are, asshole, you warm up the crowd and you handle my foreplay before I step in, knock you aside and show the people what defines penetration. By the way..."47 fries short of a happy meal"? Motherfucker, when was the last time you went to McDonald's, you'd be lucky to get _25_ 'tato spears in a small fry. Stop tryin' so desperately to swing silver tongue like I do. This's one reason I said no one can relate to you. Chris takes it, _somehow_ despite your very real life on display, that you're imagining it all. I know it's simply because the reality the rest of us live in is far removed from your own. That won't help you in a match against me, your majesty. Now apply your sparkle lip gloss, metrosexual monarch, purse those lips, hide your purse and prepare for TRUE trash talk from a man you can one day hope to become.

For starters, a man doesn't argue with the facts everyone can see DO represent the truth. You debating me over your joining Ax3 to get closer to the strap you hope to snatch _is_ the case. Whether you were shootin' for it regardless of it's owner or not, you didn't join Ax3 until AFTER I'd taken the Universal Title from Reno so twist that talk back where it belongs: right up your regi rectum. Fuck reason would YOU have for joining otherwise? It doesn't make much sense. You know who the fuck I am. You were smart enough to figure bein' an ally of mine DOES present perks...unfortunately, goin' easy on someone tryin' to turn my life right BACK around to nothing isn't one of 'em. I've already stated, I KNEW you'd come after the title, both you and Chris. Doesn't change the matter at hand...joining Ax3 was a calculated decision on your part...just like it was when you and Dolly became Revolution Prime and you kicked her in the fuckin' face anyway. That's your game, Thadly. Own it. Lyin' lil' bitch.

It's a shame you used up so much time defendin' yourself on that...one could say, thou doth protest too much and we all know what that alludes to. Hell, hack, I've been defendin' MYSELF to others for lettin' you and Chaos in Ax3 since you joined and for the second time, in THIS promo ALONE, I both knew and accepted the fact you AND Chris would be entertainin' the notion of takin' my title. What I guess neither of YOU understood was you should've been expecting ME to react this way. Fuck did you think I'd do? Spin around, spread my cheeks and let you ease on in? Oh, but then, how much fun would it be for me to discover two "top tier talents" _aren't_ just as ignorant and prone to underestimate Caedus as the rest? Those qualities are among the reasons behind why I continue to crush competition. Far be it from you, who earned this shot, to treat me as seriously as you should've, you fuckin' idiot.

It's apparent you think your little hyperactive display of non-stop vignette uploads doesn't show just how unsure of yourself and your skills you really are. And you should be. Word warfare is about how hard you hit, not how many times you swing...and you swing like a chick, Thaddeus, slappin' at your opponents with a flurry of noodle limbed strikes that may affect another cunt like Chris but as far as Caedus is concerned, you may as well be poppin' pimples on my back like a good girlfriend would. Were you capable of hittin' fast AND hard, I'd be in a pickle right about now. But you aren't. You're weak A-F with your insults and while you've been pretty accurate with attacks on Chaos, you debate _me_ from the same simply stubborn standpoint that Dolly did. It doesn't work, wimp. Not on Jim Caedus. As for your desperation to drown a dick like me with your overabundance of C average assaults, all I have to do is hit you with enough A's that the people perceive, and justifiably so, you're wrong and I'm right. I'm good at that. Like I'm great at identifying and exploiting mistakes in the ring...and you better believe I will.

To answer your question, IF you were to take the Universal Championship, yes, you'd still be welcome in Ax3. I thought we discussed this with both Main and Graves? What wrong would you have done by HONORABLY snaggin' the strap? What kinda friend do you take me as? When TRAX defeated me did I holler at 'im and tell 'im he was neither my friend nor a welcome and valuable associate of Ax3? See there? Again...ignorance. You have NO IDEA who Jim Caedus is, yet you believe you've got this brawl in the bag? Christ Alfuckinmighty I hate the youth of today. It'll be my pleasure to pound your punkass, haymaker right when you think it's comin' left and end your deplorably deluded dipshittery with a dislocated dick drainer. Anger me enough I'll just rip the lower mandible off, leavin' you with the worst overbite in history so I never have to suffer through one o' your diarrheal diabtribes ever again.

What was that you said about me hintin' at suspicion over your "uncle PUTTING (you) into the match"? When did I say that, Thadly? Sounds to me like you've got a guilty conscience, kid, I never delved that deeply into it. I merely stated it was indicative of your overall attitude towards a friendship with me that you didn't so much as protest the action. I don't give a shit when you earned your number one contender spot, spunk junkie, you knew Theo adding you to the match wasn't exactly the most desired of outcomes for me as the defending Universal Champion and you didn't care. Raising, once more, my point that your entire reason for joining Ax3 WAS to get closer to the strap. And, uh, dumbass...let's not forget this is, as per Theo's OWN WORDS AND WISHES, an ENTIRELY Ax3 Universal Championship Main Event. If you weren't in Ax3...YOU. WOULDN'T. BE. COMPETING. AND...KNOWING you're JUST like Dolly, I'll go ahead and stamp out your inevitable "it's all a coincidence" defense. Theo's nephew, already guilty of betraying his Revolution Prime tag partner outta greed to grab the Xtreme Title, joins Ax3, with his upcoming Uni title shot while the title is IN Ax3, then Theo tosses Chaos AND Duke into a TRIPLE THREAT 60 MINUTE IRON MAN MATCH against Uni Champ Jim Caedus RIGHT BEFORE Jim can boot Chaos the fuck outta Ax3 and makes a point to include both Graves and Main, calling it an ALL AX3 MAIN EVENT.

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is how that looks, limpdick. Fuck coincidence. That enough explanation and future-Duke dickin' for you, smartass? You happy the world got to hear that? Who the fuck looks suspicious now, you cacklin' crowned cocksucker? Goddamn...you know what just happened there? This is the scene in The Untouchables when that ball-droppin' baciagaloop, you, ironically repeats the word "team" and DeNiro, me, smashes 'is skull and splatters his brains with a baseball bat at the table. I just killed you Thaddeus. I'll present Sebastian with your head on a pike and your dick in your mouth.

Or...perhaps I should hand it over to your Uncle? Unless I'm mistaken, I heard you not only say The Kings aren't YOUR enemies but you actually added the FUCKIN' TRADEMARK after the name! The Kings are the enemies of Ax3. YOU apparently don't identify with the team and how _shocking_ given you "didn't join Ax3 to get closer to the title", you just did it without motive like how you forming Rev Prime with Dolly held no motivation including kickin' her in the face and runnin' off with her title. Holy SHIT you're bad at this.

I also had a feelin' you'd point out that you and Theo are "not particularly friendly". Yeah, I picked up on his ham-handed half-hearted "insulting" you a few times. Might I suggest, Thadly, you don't treat myself and the audience as if we're stupid, existing without the ability to conceive that in a scenario of premeditated assfuckery, conveying contempt between accomplices aids in throwin' people off the scent? Just because you're able to talk yourself into lies and deception doesn't mean you'll be able to convince the rest of us. And don't bother insinuating I'd ever sully my honor with "excuses" that revolve around anyone other than myself and my own mistakes. My record to the contrary stands firm. Fuck your futile flailings. What is it YOU'LL be sayin' when well laid plans are lain to rest? This ain't my first Triple Threat in the XWF with a precious prize on the line. Dolly and TRAX...they were a HELLUVA lot tougher in promo alone than you and Chaos have been, and who was it who walked out with the win? Keep up with the spray and pray, pussy, I see all that war you speak of hasn't taught you a goddamn thing.

Stick the arithmetic up your ass, Will Hunting, you legit tried to make me look stupid by spellin' out what _I_ _already_ _said_ as if I never said it. That's a new low. _I_ said the odds most certainly were NOT even, and they aren't, so who the hell are YOU lookin' to lecture? _I_ then stated Graves and Main boost my own! I've never witnessed such a botch. Was I even talkin' to you when I said it? Or wait...what's that, your pathetic attempt to fuck with my head? I know you're not _that_ stupid, so it must be you thinkin' you can fuck with me. Ok...NOW I've got nothin' but hatred coursin' through these veins for you, Thaddeus. You honestly thought you could outsmart me? You know what happened to the last motherfucker tried to trick me? I owned him. Like I'm owning you. You're gonna pay dearly for that in the match, motherfucker. I've been wrong about you...you ARE my enemy. Now...you'll be treated as such.

Your list of names doesn't define doin' anything of historic note, you goddamn dunce. You know damn well I was referrin' to your severe LACK of accolades accumulated over a greater amount of time than my own. Bejeweled buttfuckin' braggart, I'M embarrassed FOR you that in 5 MONTHS I've earned MULTIPLE TIMES what you and even CHAOS has. You can boast off a list of names all you want, wuss, no one's gonna remember "the guy who beat that other guy", they're gonna remember the 3 time consecutive OTM honorees, the undefeated TV Champs, the double champs, the UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONS. They're gonna remember JIM CAEDUS. And you Duke...you'll remember Jim Caedus as the man who shut down your enhancement talent worthy run at the Uni and handed you the most vicious beat down you've ever taken.

You're "going to walk out of pay per view with the Universal title" are you? No, you're not. You're just gonna continue stuttering over your words puttin' on a front like you ain't terrified of what I'm gonna do to keep it around my waist, weakling. Your "talk is just talk", , because you can't walk the walk. That's why I became the Universal Champion in 3 months and you're only NOW gettin' 'round to an ATTEMPT. "Better men than (me) have tried and failed"? If that's the case, what's my official designation gonna be after I've retained? Get this straight...beyond you spittin' metaphor then havin' a problem with my own in response, for you to dare ANYONE with the issues I have to hurt you outside the ring is revelatory of how impossibly naive you are. In THIS world, with YOUR background you have the AUDACITY to doubt a man capable of murder? Thaddeus Duke, all it takes is the will. Period. Just like all it takes for me is the will to refuse to lose. If one of us is all talk it'd be the boy-girl gayrod who's been inundating the XWF promoverse with his relentlessly lukewarm-Gilmore-Girl-dialogue-level-80s-Micro-Machine-commercial-jag-off-announcer-speed-though-still-nap-inducing-idiocy without the golden cred to back it all up as if there's some sorta power behind not the quality but the quantity of a competitor's promos and THAT wins matches, not quality in quantity and a hardcore asskickin' in the ring. That's my ongoing legacy, loser. When I've finished with you, you won't be scoffing at my threats and colorfully creative, unlike your "style", col' cocking, you'll be beggin' me to carry them out. And I will. With a fuckin' erection.

Blah blah blah with all that gas you have to offer, fuck-up. Are you on meth? I thought you had a country, throne and a war to run, Thaddeus? How is it a kid havin' more responsibilities than this adult with a FULL-TIME schedule has so much time to endlessly talk? I'd bet you win your little war too, right? Somehow Thaddeus Duke squeezes 48 hours outta every 24- oh, right...the Space Friend. Let it be known Thaddeus fears Jim Caedus THAT much. Unwilling to match me promo for promo, AGAIN as if numbers magically matter, because he knows I'll definitively destroy in donnybrook before collapsing his lungs in the ring. Fuckin' coward. No worries, I've got more content for you right back at thrice the heavy hitting nature, nerd.

"You accomplish what you set out to do"? So do I. Quickly. With determination. Rackin' up a list of achievements the likes of which you apparently couldn't be bothered with and weren't capable of anyway during your length of stay thus far. "Nice of you to join the party", pissant. Your fair weather devotion to this sport you claim to be so good at sickens me. You don't deserve my Universal Title, you deserve a pink slip.

Your record here stands as a spoiled lil' prick who puts in the effort when he feels like it with no love or loyalty to anyone but himself and his personal cadre of characters. You're a despicable person, Thaddeus. Vapid. As well, you're worse than a hypocrite, you're guilty of nearly everything you accuse and deny. I underestimate you? Bitch, I'm the Universal Champ, count my tally sheet entries. You've got TWO. TWO. 12 matches in HOW LONG? I've got 22 in 5 months and that's NOT counting house shows or 24/7 hall contests! _You_ underestimate _me_. You fight through the odds? Stop hawkin' my hype you lame ass sci-fi dollar bookstore Caedus clone. What happens to opponents who try to be ME and not themselves? They LOSE, Thaddeus.

You don't fall in line? You've been walking my line since I stepped in, kicked your flag down and painted it across "your" territory. Chaos is not Caedus. You've let his faltering to your words fool you into thinkin' you can outclass _me_...and you know you didn't want me to get angry, you didn't want me to come at you like all the others I've "defied the odds" against, you thieving hack, and added to my list of wins. This is why you frantically fling flacid dick missile monotony...it's your only hope. You know it. I know it. The XWF universe knows it. I won't let you do it, Thaddeus. And that means, you won't.

That was cute there with that uninspired southern preacher accent horseassery, Preacherbot from Futurama or one of the other legit hundreds of overly used preacher archetypes in film, it's nice to know you're gonna fall THAT hard when you fail, ADHD dickhead, or is what Chaos said true? Are you just tryin' to push the mind of a 3 year old in an 18 year old body now? If that's the case, try to keep up with your gimmickry a bit more consistently. Either way, that was unbearably and you should now be shot in the face.

Fuck a fading star and a spastic sack o' sprak usin' eunuch. Chaos, you bitched out, and even if you catch a second wind you've proven High Stakes II is NOT gonna be your night. Thaddeus, I've never been more disgusted by a strategy. At least when Dolly did it she brought game that had me sweatin'. You? You're fuckin' pathetic. You don't compare to Caedus. The Big Dick Daddy. The Star Killer. This is my time, my reign, my match. The two of you...you're just there to make me look good."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I look to Carmine and he stops record. At least, I hope he has...

"Think they got the point?"

TBC