Birthday Cunt



"The fuck you mean it wasn't their house?"

I exclaim, my mouth full of lobster. Fuzz nods his head slowly opposite me his fork making figure eights in his food.

"It was their neighbors. The guy either got the wrong house or committed a hate crime. Either way, it's a terrible shame."

He continues to eat as I wipe my buttery face with the bib around my neck.

"Then why the fuck did those cop cunts bring me in and question me?"

Fuzz shrugs.

"They could have got the wrong house at first too? Gotta be honest with you man, the whole thing seems like a clusterfuck."

"Tell me about it, cunt. Whatever, I'm honestly so tired of talking about those bunch of cunts."

Fuzz drags the back of his hand across his lips.

"Then what would you like to talk about?"

I think for a moment, chewing on the succulent meat of this big red cunt.

"Should we strategise against those two sad cunts on Anarchy?"

He scoffs.

"Seems like wasted time to be honest with you. If I wanted to kill off a few brain cells, I'd rather the outcome be more fun."

I nod.

"Yeah fair. What about your match, cunt? TV title shot and all."

"Yeah, another chance to get screwed over while I'm forced to jump through hoops to prove I should be a part of the fed. Like I haven't done that so many times before."

"Yeah! Fucking cunts, don't make sense does it, dad?"

He just glances up from his food at me and sighs.

"How about we don't talk about work for once?"

"Yeah no wuckas... So... I'm pretty sure Maury got those results wrong, don't make sense to me, I think I'm gonna try and hire a cunt to do some top work and prove we're related."

Fuzz quirks his eyebrows and drops his fork onto the plate. With his spare hand, he drums his fingers on the table.

"So you're against Mastermind?"

I wipe my nose and take a napkin to clean my hands.

"Yeah I'm not worried about that sad cunt though, his smack talk is weaker than his pull out game."

Fuzz breathes a chuckle.

"I agree. Pretty sure I've come across post-it notes more threatening."

I laugh.

"Right? All he managed to shit out was some fairly xenophobic bullshit about Aussies in general; I mean, sure there's a rivalry there. Their country is filled with sheep and shit cunts, mine is filled with sick cunts and spiders. No contest, cunt. It just blows my mind that the warped cunt thinks he makes any sense whatsoever. You see his Anarchy promo too?"

Fuzz simply raises an eyebrow at me.

"I'll fill you in. He had a one-sided convo with that cunt Lane and rambled on like a senile old cunt. He's floating here. He tries his best to be relevant, to be something but every attempt he makes he slips on the diving board and crashes into the water. Flailing around like a drowning cunt. He's been here longer than most but still has no idea how anything works. It would be sad if it wasn't so fucking funny! I usually love taking the piss out of people but right now he's just ruining our fancy meal."

I toss the napkin over the shell of my lobster.

"I wouldn't call Red Lobster fancy but whatever floats your boat, Noah."

WAITRESS CUNT: "You two finished?"

"Yeah, cheers."

WAITRESS CUNT: "Great, I'll get you the check."

She takes the plates with a polite smile and leaves.

"She says cheque weird. Anyway, dad." Fuzz rubs the bridge of his nose but doesn't stop me. "Mastercunt's an easy win. Those two sad cunts at Anarchy are an easy win, I know you're the best wrestler in that four-way and unless you get cunted, you've got a TV shot! Things are on the up and up, cunt! We get wins, we get exposure, we get over. Then with that popularity, we take that place apart, piece by fucking piece."

"If we don't get screwed. That's a big IF, Noah. You can say we're fan favorites all you want but the general consensus is we're not well-liked."

"Pfft, who gives a shit? We don't have to be liked, we're right on calling bullshit about everything that's going on, we just need people fall in line behind and wrestling fans are easier to manipulate than the stubborn cunts we work with. I've been calling fans shit cunts since I walked through the door and I STILL get a better reception than most."

"I couldn't give a shit about what people think about me. Hell, it helps when people don't like me. Fans are fickle, so what exactly is your plan to get them seeing things how we see them?"

I swig the remainder of the beer from my glass before throwing my arms out.

"We stay sick, cunt!"

Fuzz scoffs with a slight grin.

"In some way I admire the way you think."

"Cheers, dad."

I raise my empty glass and clink it against Fuzz's. The waitress comes back over with the cheque.

WAITRESS CUNT: "Hope you enjoyed your meal!"

I take a look at the small tray and take a mint. I then look to dad who eyeballs me, then back to the receipt before sliding the tray over to Fuzz with a cheeky smile. He drums his fingers on the table with a sigh and digs some notes from his pocket.

LATER...

Me and dad are in the back of a taxi on our way back to my house. I bob my head to the Punjabi music playing from the radio as Fuzz seems fascinated with his phone. It's been a fair ripper day. The car pulls up outside mine.

"You coming in for a drink?"

"I've got a lot to do today."

"Ah c'mon, cunt. Just one drink."

Fuzz scratches his jaw.

"Just the one."

"Yes, cunt!"

I say with a smile, clapping Fuzz's shoulder. The driver looks in the rear-view mirror at us.

CAB CUNT: "$18.60 please."

I slowly look to dad. He looks up from his phone and does a double-take at my puppy dog eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Geez, fine cunt." I dig into my jeans and mutter under my breath. "Cheapskate."

Fuzz stares a hole in my head as I pass a twenty to the driver, holding my palm out flat as he takes it and passes my change with a sigh. We both leave the cab and begin to walk to the door. Fuzz points to the grass at the front.

"Did you get 'Sick Cunt' cut into your lawn?"

"Yeah!"

Fuzz nods his head.

"Cool... This is a nice place."

"Yeah."

I take the keys from my back pocket and go to the door. Fuzz gets to my side and looks at me.

"You good? You've been uncharacteristically quieter since the ride."

I place my keys in the door and unlock with a smile on my face.

"Nah, I'm good, cunt."

I push the door open and hit the lights.

SURPRISE!

I throw my arms open with a smile to my mates, entourage and agent who clap and blow those really annoying buzzer things. Fuzz stands wide-eyed beside me as I go greet Alex, Jack-o and Brucie.

"What the fuck is happening?"

:: Vita Valenteen saddles over to Fuzz in the doorway. ::

"Noah threw himself a surprise birthday party."

:: Fuzz looks down at her. ::

"Oh, hey. VV, right?"

:: She giggles. ::

"I'm going to pretend like that question was a joke to protect your ego or something because obviously everyone already knows me!"

:: Fuzz looks to her blankly ::

"Huh-uh ... Wait, did you say it was Noah's birthday?"

"It's his party, I think his birthday is tomorrow."

"Shit. I should get him something. He found out I wasn't his dad, if I don't bring him a present he'll probably kill himself. Cover for me?"

"Sure!"

I turn back to see dad leaving and VV closing the door behind him. I saunter on over.

"Where's dad going?"

"He-er... Had to do drugs?"

"HA! That does sound like dad. You got a drink, cunt?"

"I'm 17."

"Oh yeah."

I take a swig of VB and point to her.

"Hm. That reminds me, quit vlogging about me, cunt, the age difference makes it weird."

She avoids eye contact for a moment.

"That wasn't supposed to upload." She looks back to me with, shoving a finger in my chest. "Besides who said that I was talking about you?"

I quirk my eyebrows.

"Then who, cunt?"

"I dunno" She folds her arms and looks away briefly before spinning back to me. "And I'm not saying! For all you know I could have been talking about ."

I almost spit the beer out with a snicker.

", cunt? Really? If it was about him why didn't you take that 30 grand to tongue-punch his fart box?"

I take another drink as VV looks to me in disgust.

"That's vivid."

I shrug.

"I'm a Picasso with words. You should have let him though. You'd be 30k richer and would have ended up on a sex offenders list. Win-win, cunt!"

She sighs.

"I think I may take that drink after all."

I snicker and clap her shoulder.

"Noah!"

I turn to Alex.

"Come open your prezzies then, cunt."

"Aw, cunt! You shouldn't have."

I walk over to my boys and take a seat on the couch as Alex hands me a flat, square gift. I rip into the cunt. I gasp.

"Napalm Death! Sick as fuck! Fucking we blasted this album every time we went skating!"

"Fuck me, yeah!" Jack-o chimes in. "That was gnarly. Suicidal Tendencies too."

"Municipal Waste."

"Dead Kennedys!"

"And Abba!"

We look to Bruce with a mix of confusion and shame. Abba are sick but no need telling everyone of our guilty pleasures. I look back to Alex.

"Cheers, mate."

"No wuckas, mate."

Alex kindly shakes my shoulder as Jack-o passes me two more presents.

"The bigger one is from me."

I smile and tear of the wrapping. Exposing a bobblehead of me? I look at the handsome big-headed cunt with a raised eyebrow.

"They're selling those little cunts by the bucket back home."

"Get fucked, cunt! I have a bobblehead!?"

"You know you've hit it big when they give you a bobblehead."

VV says with a hint of sarcasm before gagging after taking a sip of VB... HA! VV drinking VB. That's funny. I rock the figurine back and forth with much delight.

"They selling these cunts at Coles and shit?"

"Nah, cunt. On the local market though. Same stall that sells grinders and shit."

"Ripper! That's even better, cunt! Cheers!"

I unfold the loose paper that is Bruce's present and a stale pasty falls to the ground. I look to Bruce who pouts.

"Aaawwww Noah! You ruined it!"

We stare a hole in the cunt. Alex points down.

"Bruce, is that a fucking meat pasty, cunt?"

I pick up the rock hard cunt and examine it.

"Meat and tater, axtually!"

The dumb cunt says with some semblance of pride.

"How fucking long you had this, cunt? Did you honestly sneak a meat and potato pasty onto a 19-hour flight?"

"... Yeah. I did bring two but I ate one."

"Well cheers for cutting the risk of explosive diarrhea in half for me, cunt."

"Bruce, you're cooked mate."

Brucie looks down to his twiddling thumbs as I yeet the pasty behind me. I feel a little bad.

"Thanks for the thought though, Brucie. If it was fresh I'd devour it, miss pasties and sausage rolls and shit."

"Wait. They don't do anything like here?"

"Maybe but it's America, so it'll be shit."

Everyone nods in agreement. Vita, a little wobbly from half a tin, tosses me a soft teddy bear-shaped present.

"Happy birthday, Noah."

"Cheers, cunt." I juggle the gift in my hands. "Gee, I wonder what it could be."

The lads and I snicker. VV rolls her eyes.

"Oh don't be a cunt."

We all smile and laugh in amazement, VV hides her smirk behind the can of VB, slowly turning her shoulders. I unwrap the bright pink bow and the wrapping comes apart like magic. I stare down in amazement at the sick cunt staring back at me.

"Vita!"

I hold it aloft like He-Man raising his sword.



"Sick as fuck, cunt!"

"Top Cunt! Class!"

"That is fucking ripper."

"It's soft too!"

VV giggles.

"Well, I'm happy you all like it. Cunts!"

"Alright, don't force it, cunt."

VV frowns and goes back to her drink. I look to my entourage and agent.

"What about you, cunts?"

"I organised this party. That is my gift to you."

I stare at her blankly.

"That's fucking shit, cunt. Fuck off."

I throw a dismissive thumb, she sighs and walks away. To my entourage.

GENERIC CUNT #1: "Noah, we got you something we think you'll appreciate."

I look to them like a king from a throne. They nudge the one in the middle forward. I can only pray they execute this cunt.

GENERIC CUNT #3: "Go on!"

He stands there with shifty eyes, looking at me trying not to piss his pants. He begins to speak, spluttering out words with much difficulty.

GENERIC CUNT #2: "You- k- N.... You..... Happy birthday Noah!"

I am fucking awe-stricken cunts. MONTHS! Of this cunt only saying one phrase to me and he speaks his first real sentence that isn't 'you are the king, Noah.' I sit with my mouth agape as the others look at him.

"... I feel like I'm missing something here."

"Really happy it's not just me."

I'm left speechless as I stare up at him. I finally close my mouth and swallow my breath.

"T-Thank you."

He nods respectfully and stands back with his brethren. I shake my head and clap my palms together.

"Right cunts! Let's get fucking mortal!!!"

The room cheers as Alex throws on some tunes. I crack open a new can and begin the best party of my life. Suddenly, the door opens and Fuzz slowly walks in, his hands in his jacket. Alex lowers the music as he approaches. I look to dad, he looks to the side and grabs something.

"... Happy birthday."

He tosses a pack of ciggies into my hand.

"Don't... Smoke them all at once."

I don't even smoke but crack a big smile looking at him.

"Best present I've ever got. Cheers, dad."

FORMER:



W | L | D
226 | 11 | 81

Star of the Month (August 2019)
1/3 Star of the Month (January 2020) with Fuzz and our Subaru
RP of the Month (November 2019) with Big Disappointment