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Ho Hymn - JimCaedus - 08-08-2017 CAEDUS REWIND: In April we discovered Jim had struck a deal with a "family" of illegitimate businessmen to start a commercial medical marijuana grow with a loan for which he's been forced since June to hand over 100% of net profits on a monthly basis until January of 2018. It was in April, during Jim's first walk through of the operational warehouse facility, that he was introduced to Vanessa, the "exotic beauty" with whom he's been dating since...
"Bro Ho Hymn" -Monday August 7 2017, LATE AFTERNOON- -Caedus Castle, Naples Island, Long Beach, CA- I return home, pulling up in my new as-near-mint-condition-as-it-gets black 1986 Mercedes Benz 420 SEL, a 160 max mph, 4.2L V8 automatic with the inexplicable, though at least _working_, front headlight wipers. I'd shelled out $4,500 cash to a collector who'd driven it a grand total of 6 times, "haggled" down from an original asking price of $8,000. My first car had been the exact same make and model with an alternate silver blue coat; it'd been a nostalgic purchase meant to lighten my mood...and it had. A bit. As I kill the engine and step out I take stock of the amount of vehicles lining both sides of the street. The fuck's goin' on today? Better not be a fuckin' party, I ain't sittin' through an all-night Norteño fiesta for some American-made-rich wab family refusin' to relinquish their third world culture. I close the door, set the alarm, make my way up the steps to the front door of Caedus Castle and insert the key into the lock. It's already unlocked. Apparently Vanessa didn't leave this morning... I enter, eyes scanning the floor beneath the mail slot for envelopes. I never ask (so never expect) Vanessa to pick the mail u- "SURPRI---------SE!!" At the explosive first syllable of the word I nearly shit myself and exclaim, "FUCK _me_!!" Who the HELL are all these people!? Is- Is that a- That's a fuckin'- What the FUCK, that's the band PENNYWISE!! Vanessa hustles over, beaming, as the group of strangers applauds. "Babe, since you've been feeling so down lately over losing all your boys in the XWF I thought it would be nice to invite some of our friends over and surprise you with one of those bands you like! You know, send you off to England in style with a positive outlook!" The partygoers cheer again, this time aimed at Pennywise, urging them on to play. They oblige. Bro Hymn. How ironic. As Pennywise performs I query into Vanessa's ear. "'Nessa, who are all these people?" "Oh, just some friends I invited from Facebook." "So...you populated a party at my house, a party intended to make me feel better about having no friends at the moment, with _your_ friends?" "Nooo, babe, they aren't all MY friends." I take a gander around my packed house. "Well, I don't see a single damn face _I_ recog- Holy shit." "Jimmy, how've you been keeping?" Good God...Jason"Superstar Jay Cal". "Hey Jimmy!" And Ehren "Psycho Michael Hall". My school chums and earliest friends in the business. My first stablemates in the Triumvirate. Hoooolyyyyy shit. "Jason? Ehren?" We exchange handshakes like the old, old, extreeeeemely old friends who long ago lost touch that we are. "What the hell are _you_ two doin' here? I ain't heard from you in _years_." "Heard you won the Universal Title, Jimmy. Congratulations." "Finally got one of the _big ones_, huh?" "Yeah. Don't have it anymore." "We saw. Tough break, man." "Yup. Losing to a girl, that fucking bites, Jimmy." "I remember when women weren't _allowed_ to compete with men." "That's when men were still men, Chris. These days they wear tight pants and listen to Hip Hop's de-evolved auto-tune bullshit like Kendrick Lamar's "Humble" and Migos's "Bad and Boujee". Y'know, with tin-ears." The Heaven Sent. Chris "Thunder Dragon" and Gregg "Johnny Adonis". I spin to acknowledge two more of my oldest friends in the industry. If George "Monsoon Warrior" Bartlett is in attendance, that's the full five I started with. We shake hands. I hold the shake with "Johnny Adonis", now a 300 plus pound ball of lard. "Gregg, you used to enter to N'Sync. ." Jason, Ehren and Chris laugh. "That was kayfabe, dick!" I nod with the look and smirk of "of course it was" plastered across my face. Gregg flips me off. I switch gears. "Soooo...you fucks are here to give the biz another go 'round, right? You saw how I lost my stable, my boys and my Uni title and you're here to help me get some get back. Correct?" The four exchange awkward glances. Gregg is the first to respond. "Yeah, right, I'm in the best shape of my life," he says sarcastically, slapping his fat Jap belly. I look to Jason. "Still retired, bud. Wish you all the luck, though." To Ehren. "Wish I could but I'm a family man now, Jimbo. Sorry." To Chris. "I have a business to run, no can do. We just thought it would be a nice surprise to drop in and see you, Jimmy." What a shock. "Right, right, I understand. You all left me high and dry in '05 and haven't spoken a word to me since. Why the fuck would I fool myself into thinkin' you'd lend a hand now?" The four once again exchange glances, this time of confusion. "Uh-" I cut Jason off. "Where was the visit when my family and I were homeless? Where was the moral support then?" They look stunned in silence. "Don't act like you didn't know, I left voice mails for each o' you BEGGING for help. Now you saunter back into my life at a time when I've been abandoned by all o' my comrades, not to apologize for ignorin' me when it mattered, not to make up for it by lendin' me a hand in the ring......but to say "hi" and "good luck"? I have no shortage o' that. Don't want it. Don't need it." Again, Gregg is the first to open his mouth. "Hey, you don't say fuck you to your friends, Jimm-" "Shit's old, Gregg. Shut the fuck up 'fore I knock your rotund ass out and toss you into Alamitos Bay to see just how well a fat man floats. Matter o' fact...leave. You four ain't welcome in my home." "Are you serious?" "Get out." I watch as they turn, muttering to each other, and make for the front door. Visions of our past flash before my eyes as "Bro Hymn" plays on... Joining Ultimate Wrestling Federation together. Forming "The Triumvirate" with Jason and Ehren. Feuding with Chris, Gregg and George as "Heaven Sent". Winning the UWF Tag Titles with Ehren and watching Jason capture the World Championship. Getting betrayed by Jason and Ehren and ejected from "The Triumvirate". This immediately flips my track of thought to memories of Ax3... The formation. Commanding SIX TITLES AT ONCE, with myself as the XWF UNIVERSAL CHAMPION. The turning of the saboteur Chris Chaos. The departure of Main. Ax3's destruction. The betrayal...of Micheal Graves. R A G E "You ok, babe? I saw your friends leave, what happened?" I try to control my anger and remain calm for Vanessa. "Just a little unfinished business. Not exactly the people I wanted to see." Look on the bright side for your bitch, bro. "But hey, at least Pennywise were cool enough to perform for me. They must be fans to do this for free." Vanessa laughs. "Free? Babe they charge 25k for private parties." "Jesus...you spent 25k on ME!? I had no idea you had that kinda money!" She laughs again. "I _don't_ have that kind of money." I frown in perplexion. "Well...then..._who_ paid?" "I used some of the money in your emergency stash, silly. I didn't think you would mind." She kisses me on the cheek. "You're a millionaire, babe, you run a multi-million dollar business." She plants another kiss on my lips. I don't return it. She backs off a bit. "What's wrong?" R A G E "You went into my _emergency_ stash and took _twenty-five thousand dollars_!?" "_Yes_ but I thought-" "_What_? HUH!? You thought _what_ exactly!? "He won't mind if I take 25k 'cause I fuck him"!? Was that what you thought!?" I notice "Bro Hymn" has ended and I'm screaming in a now utterly silent living room surrounded by her friends. "Out! Everybody get the FUCK out!! That includes YOU!!" I level my right pointer at Pennywise. No one moves. "If I hafta grab the shotgun, I will! GET. THE. _FUCK_. OUT!! _NOW_!!" Some slightly budge but still, in shock, no one leaves. R A G E "_MOTHER_ _FUCKERS_!!" I move to make for my bedroom and the partygoers make a panicked beeline for the front door. I look to Vanessa, tears streaming down her cheeks. "We're done, you're fired, get the fuck out." Her expression contorts to heartbreak but she obliges and joins the throng. As I scan the departing faces I spy an extremely sexy young lady eyeing me on her way past me. I reach out to snatch her by the arm with an almost involuntarily primal instinct. She gazes at me with a mixture of fear and enchantment. "I like you. You can stay. Name? Age?" "Kay-Kay. I'm 19," she blurts, blushing. Goddamn, 19? Fuck it. "Go wait in my room. Down this hall, first door on the right. Make yourself comfortable on the kingsize." Chaos I caused forgotten, her eyes twinkling with the glaze of the smitten, "Kay-Kay" nods and walks her 5'5" possibly 115 pound hot blonde ass down the hall. A wash of peel-outs and roaring engines sounds from out front as my home finally empties of intruders. Pennywise however, are still packing up. "No offense intended, I DO like your music, so I choose my words carefully. When I get back, you'd better be gone. You're lucky I don't sue you and the hooker for theft and the receipt o' stolen fundage." "Fuck you, dude!" "That's right, Jim Lindberg, frontman, tug a tiger's fuzzy balls. I'll gladly snatch the street sweeper, blast the lot o' you, all point blank headshots, and say it was a group suicide tribute to Jason Trisk. Reunite you pricks in the Closed Casket Club." "Asshole." "Exactamundo, dickhead. Drive safe." With that, I make my way down the hall and I stop at the doorway to my room. Kay-Kay is sitting on the end of the bed. "Gimme a few, girl, I'll be right back." She smiles as I turn and make for my promo studio. I've shit to get off my chest first. Afterall, I'm definitely in the mood in light of Graves's despicable actions on this _past_ Savage. "Bro Hymn" my ass. Face a mask of beet-red rage, I don't bother with a backdrop, I simply snatch the remote, power on the equipment, stand on my mark before the lens, hit RECORD and toss the remote aside. "My _father_, Mike!? Really!? Mock unearthin' my _dad's decayin' corpse_!? You fathaFUCKA!!" As I continue, the anger appears to melt away with each successive word. "The FUCK you gonna do in your first promo now, puppet that putrifyin'-papa-prop like Cadryn used to pilot you with his wop's angel hair noodle slid up that mind-of-it's-own-like-the-dinosaur-butt-brain-myth puckerin' and sucklin' at the I-spy-with-my-brown-eye-somethin'-that-starts-with first dick it "sees"?" By now, I've zombied-up. "Fuck's the matter with you? I thought we were boys. I thought you knew me, Mikey. If I was worried what my opponents might say or do I never woulda revealed the truth about my father...waaaay back in Round 3 o' the Lethal Lottery tournament. Sure, I got upset when The Bourbs slammed my plankin' pops but it was due to the fact I came at him respectfully in context with his loved ones and he sucker punched me over mine as a supposed friend. He betrayed a "friendship" with his actions, regardless of the target and _that_ is the root of _our_ little problem here. That's what's pissin' me off. Friendship...brotherhood...bro code...you took a solid week's worth of a sole Kraft Mac 'n Cheese diet ass-splatter-orange wet shit all over these concepts. And for what?" ::video playback of Savage 8/05/17:: When Jim Caedus approached me to join the stable that he was creating, it was just before he cashed in his briefcase and became the Universal Champion. Before he cashed in, sure, we are like brothers. We talked everyday. We went over strategies, we hung out and bullshitted in our off time. It was fun, but once Jim cashed in, he became distant, hard to reach, paranoid. I would go weeks at a time without hear a word from my so called “brother”. ::end playback:: "Before I cashed-in I wasn't the XWF Universal Champion with a whole host o' hectic responsibilities such as signings, sponsor deals, charity events and other such contractual obligations for the draw of a professional wrestling promotion to sap away my free time. Are you not a former XWF World Champion as listed on your accolade tally? Has it been so long you've forgotten the ins and outs o' the status or is it just there was no such interest in the D-dubbya-M-G as World Champ? Did I have less time to kick it while adaptin' to my new schedule? Yes. However, I was there when it mattered most, was I not? Who was it that showed up to make a unanimous acceptin' o' Drake's challenge to Ax3, albeit a bit later than desired? Caedus. Who was it that took a beating with you and Robert Main when Drake debuted The Revival to officially make that challenge a match for the XWF Trio Tag Titles? Caedus. Overlooking the fact that you and I had been looking to form a stable together A MONTH prior to my cashin'-in and NOT "just before" cashin'-in like you claim, let's set all o' the aforementioned aside for a moment and focus on the fact that during this "absentee brother" bullshittery you were spendin' your time courtin' Chris Chaos to get him signin' his saboteur self to the stable. And who was it that was booked for that XWF Trips match I helped set up and Ax3 ultimately won? It was...Robert Main...Micheal Graves...and, imagine that, not Caedus but _Chris Chaos_. Chris Chaos, Mikey, was given the opportunity to coast on in and take what should've been my spot in that match. Your fault? No. What _is_ your fault is how quickly and effectively you allowed that piece o' shit to alienate me from my own brothers. In fact, like a woman deflecting and projecting off a guilty conscience, desperately wishin' what she's done to be true of the one she's betrayed, throughout the entire span of time you're accusin' ME o' bein' distant, Chris Chaos was in your ear like a Gorilla glued Q-tip manipulatin' you and Main into thinkin' Caedus wasn't givin' a shit about Ax3 and don't you deny it, motherfucker. I saw it. I heard it. I didn't get "distant" Mikey, I was busy. YOU became distant when your feeble brain received a speed washin' from an obvious perpetrator. Is it any WONDER that when I saw what was happening, I became less fond o' conversing with you as you kept more than an arm's length separation between you and your true friend in favor of a shiny new comrade in Chaos. In essence, what happened was you took my new success negatively, many would say selfishly and enviously, then turned your back on me for the next guy givin' you the amount of attention you required, takin' part in talkin' shit behind my back once you hopped on that Chaos cock. Like a butthurt hooker, you turned a Bro Hymn into a Ho Hymn. S L U T But that ain't the end of it. I fought back, backhanded my brothers back to reality and managed to convince you of the truth: that Chaos was hellbent on taking the reigns of Ax3. I exposed him, he saw the jig was up, so he proved my point by setting about derailing our stable's best laid plans for the Unified Xtreme strap. Great choice of recruit, . To continue, right around that time was when you were obsessively seekin' to slather a 12 year old Dolly Waters in Gravy, actions condemned by your brothers. Actions we advised against. Actions we REMAINED your brothers throughout when you ignored us. Do you recall gettin' fired over those actions and CAEDUS bein' among those who stood up to defend you and plead your case for rehiring? I do. I also recall Dolly hospitalizin' you, mangling your face, and my attempting to visit you only to be consistently turned away by staff. You know what all that means, right? It means even after you turned on me in favor of Chris Chaos and aided him in alienating me from the group, even after you engaged in activities you knew no one was in support of and got both fired and forever scarred because of them, even AFTER your MULTIPLE LEGITIMATE disappearances/absences that left Ax3 high and dry in need of recruits...I stood by you like the brother I am. And what thanks did I get? More butthurt betrayal. You're right; after how you've acted, between you and I there ain't been a brotherhood...it's been Dark Wifey Micheala Graves schemin' to pull a Jodi Arias on Jim Caedus. Lyin'. Shady. Bitch. A bitch who thinks anyone will listen to an accusation as LUDICROUS as formin' Ax3 was motivated not by my widely known desire to surround myself with friends but for _protection_. If it were about protection I'd have been beggin' The Doc to let me fill in for Unknown Soldier, who the FUCK is Micheal Graves gonna protect me from? You've lost matches to half the roster you fuckin' idiot. Can't you just admit you were stoked that I, that ANYONE, wanted YOU in the same stable? Are you incapable of acknowledging the fact my success sent you on an envious saboteur spiral that hasn't subsided since? Would you ever be willin' to announce that if ANY of us in Ax3 were in it for the protection it was Micheal Graves, not Jim Caedus? Who am I, Mikey? Huh? Who the fuck am I? Am I some weakling washin' out loss after loss, switchin' up my appearance at nearly bleedin'-snatch-monthly rates or am I the guy who at this point doesn't NEED to rehash his exploits because his fans know his accolades better than the lyrics to their favorite fuckin' tracks? Who am I? Jim Caedus. A man who turned the other cheek and gave you his trust even after all the horseassery you and Cadryn put 'im through over the TV Title. A man who treated you like a brother and not only advised you against your pedo-predation on Dolly but looked the other way when you refused to act right. A man who treated you as an EQUAL when others like Cadryn treated you like Micheal Slave...... JIM. FUCKIN'. CAEDUS. The man who's gonna gimp you the fuck up, splatter your ass like the "HELP MEH" dude in 80s Robocop who got doused in toxic waste and send you off on a PERMANENT absence so you can spend your final days on this planet giddily fishin' for first graders with a handful o' Twizzlers, a puppy and a bottle of ether. I'm dyin' to hear what you have to say now, Gravy. You have no recourse but to A. blanketly deny in the face of facts OR B. completely recant, apologize and accept an asskickin' at KotR courtesy o' Star Killer Caedus. Whatever your decision may be, A, B or Blingsteen type cowardly with a capital C, you better make it damn good. I'll be recitin' it for your anti-eulogy at the fuckin' funeral, ." I end record and power down the equipment for the time being then head back to my room. Kay-Kay awaits. I confidently stride over to her, rip her fashionably torn jeans open at the crotch, unhook my baggy Dickies, unzip and allow them to drop to my ankles, stepping out of them and my unlaced black DCs simultaneously. I remove her underwear and climb onto the bed. I grab hold of my stiffening manhood and run it up and down her tight, exposed entry several times before pushing my way in. She gasps in pain. In my recent experience with pussies, tis definitely better to give than receive when it comes to gettin' fucked. |