Frodo and Crack are sitting around watching a John Hughes marathon, right now they're on Pretty in Pink. A rumbling in Frodo's tummy causes him to get up and go look for food in the kitchen. He's not finding anything that appeals to him. So he turns and leaves the kitchen. Crack is relaxing, Frodo throws an empty bowl at him. It startles Crack, and he turns to Frodo.
”What's up?”
”I'm hungry. No food here. You wanna go to Big Boy?”
”Fuck yeah. Free food is the best food.”
”I eat for free. You have to pay. Nigga.”
”Watch me not pay.”
They pile into the Yanjo and drive to the Big Boy. The radio blasts some shitty pop band that Crack tries to change, until Frodo chops him in the neck. Driving chops Effe Tea Dub. So, they make their way to the Big Boy, and Frodo walks in like he owns the place. Because he does. They take a seat, and the waitress comes up. She's a short woman, about 4'10, and looks to be about 60. She hands Crack and Frodo their menus, and asks if they need a minute.
"I'll take the Chicken Alfredo. Dr. Pepper. No ice. If I find Ice, you're fired."
She laughs it off.
"Sirloin, medium well. Coke, ice. Mashed potatoes and Mac and Cheese."
She writes these down, and heads to the kitchen to place the order.
"You're not joking about her being fired, are you?"
"Nope. And Katie's managing today, so it'll be even easier. I don't even think the girl knows who I am."
The waitress comes out a minute later with the drinks. She sets them on the table, and there's ice in Frodo's cup. He says nothing, but waits. Crack cracks a smile, as he sips on his pop. The restaurant is empty, except for Frodo and Crack, which makes it quiet and comfortable. Until the door opens, and Crack's dad walks in. He sees the duo, in the only occupied booth, and comes over to sit next to them.
"What's up, guys?"
"What are you doing in my restaurant?"
"This girl I used to date is working here, I wanted to see her. She used to work as a stripper. Back in the day. God, I haven't seen her in about 40 years. Anyway. Your restaurant?"
"Yeah, my restaurant. As in, I own this bitch. Now, fuck off."
"Lemme see my girl, first."
"Dad. Forty years ago, you were married to my mother. You telling me you cheated on her then?"
"Since day one, son."
"You're a piece of shit. You know that?"
"I'm still your dad."
The waitress comes back with Frodo and Crack's food. She sets it down in front of them, and then notices Crack's dad.
"Jarvis? Is that you?"
He stood up and fixed his shirt.
"Lorraine! How are you?"
She slapped him across the face.
"36 years. It's been 36 years since I seen you. I called you, some girl answered. I told her I was having your baby. She hung up on me."
"You had a kid? I didn't know. What happened to it?"
"A boy. A boy named Fred, after my daddy. I put him up for adoption."
"Hold on. You had a son. Named Fred. Thirty Six years ago. And put him up for adoption? And you're a midget?"
"He'd be turning 35 this year. So?"
Crack looks Frodo dead in the face. There is a look of anger and confusion on Frodo's face.
"No fucking way. NO FUCKING WAY! I DO NOT MEET MY GODDAMN BIOLOGICAL PARENTS THIS WAY! I JUST WANTED SOME FUCKING FOOD! Lorraine, go get your manager. Now!"
Lorraine goes to the back to get her manager, and a bubbly Katie comes bouncing out of the back office. Her hair in a pony tail, which bounces with her. She heads to the table, and smiles at her dad and his friend. Not at Jarvis. Dude's a creep.
"Hey, daddy. What's up?'
Lorraine came back over to the group. She looked floored at the revelation.
"He's your dad? So, he's the owner?"
"Yep. Why?"
"He told me if he finds ice in his drink, I'm fired. I thought it was a joke."
"No. You gave me a drink with ice. So, Katie. Do it."
"Lorraine, gotta terminate you. Boss don't like you. Get your stuff and leave."
"Wait. Stay for this next piece. One more thing, Katie. Turns out, I may have also found my biological parents."
"Omigod! I get more grandparents? Are they bitchy? Like Grandma? I hate that bitch."
"Well, Christmas might be awkward. You just fired your granny. And your dad beat the shit out of your granddad. Plus, your dad's big brother wants to sleep with you."
She takes a second to process all of this.
"Wait. Jarvis is my grandfather, and Lorraine is my grandmother?"
"Looks that way, girly. Looks that way. Naturally, because I have no reason to believe Jarvis, Crack and I will get a DNA test. And then Lorraine and I will. I have to verify this shit. Fuck. I just wanted Chicken. Katie, take care of the bill. Crack and I are getting DNA tests. Oh, and you don't have to fire Lorraine. But don't get attached."
Crack and Frodo get to their feet and headed to the door. Katie stops them.
"You have to pay."
"I don't. I own this place."
"Crack doesn't."
Frodo begins laughing.
"Told you."
"My brother does. I ain't paying."
"Then you're banned."
"Nah, it's cool. Give the check to Jarvis. And charge him for my food. If he doesn't pay, call the cops."
Frodo and Crack made their way to the lab to get some DNA testing done. The cheap ones. Because, they're cheap bastards. Although, Frodo did pay for the rushed results. Which means they only had to wait two days. So, for the next two days they wait to see if they're related. Fun times.
FADE2Rainbow
”You know what I love the most? When people ignore you. It's just so elegantly flattering. You see, at this time, I have yet to hear from Justin Sane, which is of no surprise to me. Since he is a massive pussy, after all, and not a smart one at that. I mean, if you were smart, you'd be taking this a little more serious. How many times am I going to have to kick your ass this month? At least one for sure. The other two, well, you know, just for funsies. If they happen. We'll see. But, more importantly, if you're not taking the other matches seriously. Which is apparent by the lack of promos cut for the match at Knight's shove it, and the lack of interest in either this match, or the rumble, then we have to wonder, what do you take seriously? Not that match with Lane at Turning Point, and if you did take that seriously, then you sure as shit suck when you're serious. Let's be real here for a minute. You've only had one decent month in the federation. One out of 3. And you're expecting that to earn you some respect from people? Honestly? You're expecting to get respect for winning three matches? Jesus, you are fucking arrogant. Look at Lane, he went most of his first two months here undefeated, and he still didn't get respect. And he beat you. The fuck makes you special enough to get us to not shit on you?
Not a goddamn thing. So, bust out that special bed you love. The one that has a toilet seat at the top, up by the pillow, so people can shit on your face. Literally, shit on your face. Because, that is what's going to happen to you after I kick your ass and take your case from you on Monday. I know, I'll probably have to worry about your boys in Defiance coming down and trying to fight me. Because you and your boys are massive pussies. As I've already explained. But, you're too pussy to respond to. Because you've got vag lips, bruh. Hold onto your little wins over my boys. Hold onto them, keep them tight in your arms, kiss them goodnight, and read them stories. Because they're the only thing you've got that you could use to maybe fathom an advantage over me. Remember Warfare, 11/5? The night that Hysteria took the title. The night you got your ass kicked by Gator for his title. Because you fucking suck. That was the night I shat on Ice, and left Gator in a heap in the pile of shit as well. Yeah, good times. That was also the night you got truly fucked. How'd you get fucked?
Simple. That was the night the world saw me as The Violator of the Asylum. The night that set the wheels in motion for another round of me kicking your ass. And to make it worse, you're going to have to cry to Gator and corVus, and tell them how you failed to remove me from the federation. Because when it comes to facing me, you will always fucking choke and fail. Make your excuses, please. Come out and tell me why I kicked your ass that night. I long to hear it. I want you to look at the fans, through your little webcam shit, and lie to them. Lie to them and tell them that you ever stood a chance, but something got in your way. The fact is, no matter what excuse you provide, there was no way you could have ever stood a chance at beating me and facing the Doctor in the finals. It was always going to be either Gator or Doc versus me in the finals. Always. It was written the second the card was announced. Fuck, the second the tournament was announced, it was known who'd be in the final round of the tournament. And your name never was a thought. Because you're never going to be close to good enough to measure up to me. Height aside.
When I step to the ring, the fans actually cheer. When you step to the ring, they begins tweeting about they can't wait for you to get done and leave. Because, bruh, you're boring. You're not a strong competitor. Not for a second. Not for half a second. No. You're just some pasty faced beard that's got to ride Gator's name to relevance. Like you tried to do with Evertrust. Face it, Justin, you'll always be the obnoxious cunt in the back seat demanding she get taken to a nice dinner in exchange for taking it up the ass. No, those girls are actually more useful. You're a Diamondbacker. You take dicks in the ass in exchange for diamond rings. Once Gator promised some sort of fame for you, you were all good and ready to do whatever he asked. Same thing with Trust. You were all ready to let Trust do whatever he fucking wanted if it meant he'd make you matter. You'd let him fight the scary people to earn his XTitle and earn the tag title shot, so he could challenge scary Iris for the shot. Then you'd ride in as his partner and let him do the fighting so you could get some gold. When that failed you waited, and hoped Gator would use his name to challenge the Kings. Then you hoped he'd fight the battle for you, like a Knight of Old fighting for his woman.
When that didn't happen you bought the titles from Theo. Because you knew you could never earn them. And now, you hope you never have to defend them. Right? Buy, and turn down challenges. So that you can keep that gold, as a means of telling people that you actually matter. And please, don't try and use the defense that you earned the titles, because you didn't. You've never been a contender, and had to pay to get into the only Title match you've ever had. Seems to be a trend with you. I actually stepped into the ring, and attacked people before I got my titles. And guess what. I'm about to win another title. Then a case. Because I'm just better than you. Want to know something else funny? I'm probably going to cash in and take your titles. Give you another loss to me. Wouldn't that be fucking fantastic? No, I won't cash in on you. That'd be too boring for me. I'll keep it a secret what I plan to do with your case. But, I will say this. I'll buy you some candy or something, that normally makes bitches feel good after getting beaten like it was 1945. Because, trust me, you'll be beaten like the hopeless housewife. Don't fucking think anything else is happening. Please, admit that I'm you're superior in your next promo. If you even cut one."
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