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Cain · **04-04-2014, 05:00 PM**

As I watched the old school style promo on my huge fifty six inch screen, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. What this mick was saying. I mean, I've seen some arrogant assholes before. Hell, I am one myself, but I can't believe the audacity of this guy. Miako's father sat next to me, tray in his lap, swisher peach flavored blunt cut open. The tobacco set to the side, discarded. Miako's father was your typical old Japanese man, only this guy wore Hawaiin shirts and jorts everywhere. He was half my size, with a balding head of white hair. In his fifties. He shook his head.

"Who is this Martina McBride? She smoke wrong thing. That stuff give you cancer.

Despite my problems, I managed a chuckle. Yeah, "he" wanted to merge with me once more. But here this old Japanese guy was, rolling up four grams of the most expensive weed you've ever seen, and he just cracked on my opponent. Nice. It wasn't a great joke, but I respected his effort.

"A dead man. His names Michael, I think Papa-san."

"Hrmf. He run mouth too much. He act like already win match."

Just imagine Pat Morita rolling a blunt. Okay, imagine him pouring the weed into the wrap. Now, imagine him rolling it up. Licking it. Closing it. Imagine me getting impatient.

[/color]"Yeah. Many do. Idiots. Hey, Mister Miyagi, that stuff smells awesome. Where did you you get it?"

He looked at me with a grin, flicking open a solid gold Zippo, my solid gold zippo. The flame danced as it touched the end of the blunt, smoke flowing from Papa-san's nostrils as he puffed on it. He took a big hit, bigger than you'd expect someone from his age. He laughed.

"Your mother."

He passed to me and I took a big hit, holding it in. Then blowing it out.

"Original, Papa-san. I suppose it is no business of mine. But you know, I wonder what McBride hopes to accomplish by insulting me? Calling me a German porn star?"

He shrugged and hit the blunt.

"Maybe he think you turn tail and run. Like scolded dog. He been here longer than you, think he big name. Talk about give Irishman reason. Reason to what? Drink? He no need reason, he Irish."

"Hah. Yeah. Fuckin' limey thinks..."

Lonnnng inhale. Speaking in that voice we get when we are smoking weed. Don't lie. You all do it.

"...that because he's held titles here it makes him..."

Exhale.

"...special. Yeah. That's great, buddy. Hah. Talking shit to a Beast is like playing with fire using a plastic bottle full of gasoline. You don't fucking do it unless you're stupid."

"Hey! Puff puff give, kraut!"

[color=#FF0000]"Fuck you, chink."

I said, laughing as I passed the blunt. Which was half gone. Yes, we were heavy smokers.

"I think that china man. I Japanese.

I shrugged.

"Chinese, Japanese, dirty knees, look at these. Point being, I'm gonna fuck him up the ass."

Fuck! I didn't mean to say that! Papa-san just looked at me with a flat faced look and arched a brow.

"Are you the gay?"

"Wait, what?"

"You say you gonna fuck other man in the ass. Up ass. What you not tell Miako?"

I shook my head emphatically and held my fingers up to Papa-san's nose.

"No way! I am straight as an arrow, Papa-san. Smell my fingers!"

"Hrm. Smell familiar."

"It's Miako. I'm not "The Gay".

"..."

Ever had one of those awkward silences where you've judt got done fingering a girl and you ask her father to smell your fingers? And he looks at you like he wants to killyou? I have. Apparently. I knew the problems with my brother were there, but at this very moment, i could not stop smiling. Papa-san just turned white...then red for amoment...then smirked.

"You bad ass German. Evil. You gonna fuck Mcbride's ass up."

So I ended the conversation with one word.

"Exactly."

To Be Continued

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode PlaceMarker Excuse me? Martina McBride? Is he the gay?
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