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JimCaedus · (02-22-2018)

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APEX REHASH: Remember when Drew owed a debt to the Falco crime family out of Chicago in payment for protection in prison then Jim spoke to the Pappalardo crime family out of Nevada, pulled some strings, tugged a few of the heart persuasion and ended up adopting that debt only to discover the Pappalardo crime family now expects him to kill Snoop Dogg over the Doggfather album in payment so APEX made jackasses outta themselves did what they had to do to gain entrance to cuz's crib and warn him only to unintentionally get the Dogg barkin' and his superhuman body guard bitin' and they failed? Hahaha. Wasn't that some stupid sh-

What?

You don't?

Oh...

Aight...

"Oh no, yeah, I know, she's like, basic a-f." Sips from her pink, Starbucks secret menu Mermaid frapp making sure to pose for a snap with the straw held between her top and bottom rows of pearly whites. "Hey Kim, ur going 2 the Delta Iota Kappa frat party 2nite, right?"

"Yaaaaaas, Kim, I'm gonna meet up with Brad Vandebrake, guuuuuuuurl!" Pulls her shirt collar a bit further down to expose more cleavage for a pout-lipped snap then sips from her pink, Starbucks secret menu Mermaid frapp.

"Girl, I'm so nervous..."

"Why, girl, what's up? Oh, Brad Bandevrake??"

"Girl, yaaaaaaaaaaas!"

"Why, girl?? U know he wants u, right?"

"Girl, yaaaaaaaaas but he's Mormon! Mormon's don't drink and are all "no sex before marriage", so he only ever nurses two B(BEEP)d Li(BEEP)ts like they taste ratchid, then slides me a pity finger! I need 2 get that boy DRUNK!"

"El-em-ay-oh, slut, u want that d, don't u??"

"Girl, I want that d!!"

"U want that d, girl??"

"Girl, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-"

::The dorm room door is abruptly kicked open, a tall, dark and handsome short, blonde and irresistible man entering::

"Did someone say they want that d??"

BOTH: "JIM CAEDUS!"

"Howdy Kims! How's it goin' with them Brads?"

"Not so good with my Brad, Jim. He won't-"

"-give you that d? Or at least a bit o' the ol' t action?"

"Jim, unlike my Brad Vandebrake it's HJs all day with her Brad Bandevrake!"

Chuckling warmly. "Lemme guess, Kim...he's not much of a drinker and sticks to watered down donkey piss?"

"Jim, yaaaaaaas!"

"Good news, Kim, I've got a solution for your problem!"

::Jim snaps his fingers and two bottles of Apex - Special IPA appear, one in each of Kim's (Kim, not Kim) hands::

"BOOYOW!!"

::SUSTAINED PRODUCT CLOSE-UP FOR AD-BABBLE SPIEL::

"And it comes in _22 ounce bottles_ with an ABV of 8.25, Kim, that's like, 3 or more whole numbers above B(BEEP)d Li(BEEP)t! That means for a lightweight like Brad, trade out his usual for two of THESE babies and he'll be ready to play! Plus it tastes way better so he'll wanna chug it. And the faster you drink-"

"-the faster u get drunk! Thanks Jim!"

::THWEEEEEEEET!!::

"Ohhh nooooo! It's the campus rat..."

::Some shaved-head hard-on in a uniform and wearing a gaudy sash reading PEACEKEEPER enters, spitting the rape whistle out from between his lips::

"Hold it right there!"

BOTH: BUZZ KILL!"

"That's BUSBY Kihl! And what you were just discussing, Kim getting Brad drunk then taking advantage of him? That's the crime of date rape!"

::Kim, Jim and Kim all look to eachother with frowns of grave concern::

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Oh shut up, Buzz Kill, a hot girl doin' that to a hetero guy ain't a _crime_! It'd be more illegal NOT to!"

"DUUUUH!"
"DUUUUH!"
"DUUUUH!"

"They're right! CURSES!"

"Get outta here Buzz Kill!"

"Ur just tryna kill everyone's buzz and d-block coz ur extra and ur jealous the only girls ever around U are the ones on ur payroll! K-Y-S!"

"Yaaaaaaas coz ur such a shady creepy mouthbreather!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHH!! The truth!! My only weakness!! And by the way... "Shady"? "Creepy"? "Mouthbreather"? I am NOT a mouthbreather anymore, Kim, I'm super smart and politically cynical now!"

"Wait, what? I mean...if you were dumb and got dumber or were crazy and got crazier that's one thing but...duncecap IQ to brilliant? THAT doesn't make any sense!"

"Yeah, loser!!"

"More truth!! NnnnnnnnnnooooOOOOOOO!!"

::Buzz Kill spontaneously combusts::

"Shoo, flaming liar, SHOO!"

::Jim hits Buzz Kill with a Wrexus Plexus. Buzz Kill rockets out through the doorway and into the back set wall, leveling it then continuing to burn::

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Thanks again, Jim, now I can go 2 the party, get Brad drunk and get my d!"

"Oh don't thank ME, Kim, of legal age hot slice o' sexy, just slide me a few Apex - Special IPAs sometime and nail me!"

"Well let's c how it goes 2nite with Brad first, k?"

"Ah. Ok, gotcha."

"Got a couple more of those Apex - Special IPAs, Jim?"

"Yeah...sure thing, Kim."

::Jim snaps his fingers again and two more bottles appear, one in each of Kim's hands this time.

She holds them out to Jim, smiling seductively::

"Get started, f(BEEP)boy. I want that d."

Looking to the camera with a dashing grin. "Yaaaaaaaaaaaas." Wink.

BEAR REPUBLIC'S APEX - SPECIAL IPA

"YAS."

♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧♧

"Cards on the Table"

---WEDNESDAY---

"Oh Lord...... Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. Nnnnnnnnnnnn stay in theeeeeeeere..."

"Jim what the hell are you doing?"

"Seriously, you're gunna ruin my hard work with all that moveme-" Drew's house of cards crumbles. "Oh, you mother FUCKER!"

"Dammit Jim, now see what you did??"

"It's the coffee and energy drinks, man, I gotta fuckin' _piss_."

"So stop dancing around like a four year old and go take a piss, you moron!"

Dejected. "Helluva way to speak to the birthday boy."

"Your birthday was NINE DAYS AGO!"

Laughs. "Hey Drew, remember when Kayla milked her birthday for like a week?"

"Yeah that was cute though; your sister was 16 at the time and she's a chick. Jim's a man and 38."

"38 years young, Drewski."

"38 years dumb, doucheski. Go take a piss. How the hell do you think I was doing it, as mayor by the way, back in Bumsville, Chicago? I thought you used to be homeless?"

"I can't go _any_where, it'll blow our _cover_!"

"What cover, Jim?"

Eyes widening incredulously. "Fuck you mean "what cover"? _This_ cover," Jim exclaims, gesturing to the interior of the vehicle.

"This cover"? You mean the average white panel delivery van with the opaque window tinting and -APEX MEATS "get the steak out"- stenciled on the sides we've been sitting in for the last three hours outside the same damn house on stake out? That the cover you mean, Jim?"

Cheerfully. "Yeah, _that's_ the one!"

"......"

"......"

"......"

"......"

"Bob-O?"

::THWACK::

::Robert bops Jim on the nose with a rolled up magazine. The February 2018 edition of XWF Magazine to be specific, the one with the "Can Anyone Stop The Engineer?" article and accompanying fifty foot long fold out of all 5'10" of the man himself and all 44'2" of his accrued karmic comeuppance, making it a double-sized issue more akin to National Geographic so it really, really hurts::

"OW!! OH!! OOOW!! _FUCK_!!"

::See?::

"GIMME that!"

::Jim snatches the mag and tosses it out the window.

Well, through the window he forgot to roll down, circular exit wound in the tint, the magazine unfurling and sailing across the front lawn of Snoop's neighbor, hitting and somehow decapitating a stone cherub spitting water fountain in Odd Job fashion, leaving it blasting "arterial" H20 from the neck::

"I think you just blew our cover, Jim."

Spazzing out in his seat. "NNNNNNNNN, I can't hold it anymore!!"

::First rolling his seat back as far as possible then snatching his empty 24 oz. coffee cup, Jim pops the lid off with his thumb, frantically unbuttons and unzips his baggy blue Dickies with his one free hand, butt-walks to the edge of his seat and-::

"Whoa, JESUS!!" Twisting in his seat to hug the door and stare out the passenger window.

::THUMP::

E X H A L E

::SHPLOOOooooooooooooo ooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOO-::

"J E S U S!"

::-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOO ooooooooooosh...ploodoloop...ploodoloop ...ploodoloop...drip...drip...

THUMP THUMP THUMP::

"Retaining water, ma'am ?"

::ZIP::

Laughs. "Woo...shit...that's 23 oz in a 24 oz cup, bros." Jim places the lid back on and sets the DIY urinal in the cup holder.

Turning back around. "Hey! Don't put that back in the cup holder!"

"Toss that out! For Christsake I was the mayor of Tent City Alpha, first thing I learned there was never exist with piss, Jim. Ever heard of cooties, ya filthy bastard? I thought you used to be homeless!? How could you forget where you came from, Jim?"

"Oh brilliant, yes, let's do _that_, we'll all just fling cups of wee-wee willy nilly! Fuck did I say about not blowin' our cover!?"

::Headless squirting fountain::

::XWF Magazine on the lawn::

::Big ass white van with black tint, a blown out hole in the driver's side window and a flank labeled APEX MEATS "get the steak out" lurching violently side to side, the sounds of a beating reverberating from within::

Stirring from a pleasant nap. YAAAAAAAAWN. "Smells like farts in here. ...so...any movement from the Dogg? Hear anything yet?"

Pointing one of those dish eavesdropping from a distance devices at Snoop's house through the hole in his driver's side window and sporting a shiner. "Hours of coughing and bass broken up here and there by the quickie moans of no less than seven visiting starfuckers like it was by appointment. I thought this guy was married?"

"Also coach, producer, rapper, actor, spokesman, grower and what ever else he claims to be."

"Uh huh... The Dogg don't do shit all day but smoke, smoke and fuck and smoke......lucky prick." Brushes a pile of recently emptied Taco Bell wrappers and bags from atop the dashboard in frustration then sets the listening device down in their place. For the first time we notice the van's dashboard itself has been equipped with state-of-the-art spy equipment and readout monitors, somewhat like Bruce Wayne's night ride. Cool. "Dude's so rich he never has to leave the house unless he has a booking. Who knows how long that'll be..."

"Yeah, well, we'll have to leave eventually, Jim. Some of us work for a living."

"What am I doin' here? Workin' off that debt I now owe."

"Technically you're not working off the debt, Jim, you've been trying to cheat your way through it. And yes, while trying to save a life is the right thing for a hero to do, it doesn't exactly qualify as "working off your debt" of capping Snoop Dogg."

"This has been a big waste of time if you ask me. You should be focusing on The Engineer and the final round of the Uni Tournament at Turning Point."

"A lotta good it would do me to get whacked out before Turning Point for NOT dealing with this Snoop situation asap...though I can't say I disagree with showing my opponent some attention, good lookin' out."

"How are you even going to go about this, Jimmy? Drew, how's this work with tag partners who aren't on the same side but on good terms and one of them has kind of started training the son of the other?"

"As awkward as can be I'd think."

"Why would it be awkward, Drew?

Because I've been asked to teach and train his son Joachim? Because Engy turned his back on The Motherfuckers when they needed him the most and when it would benefit APEX the most? Because of that little speech he gave on making peace after War Games? Because I signed off on the idea and didn't pursue relieving him of his tag strap for us like I did with Chaos? Because of those incredibly flattering compliments he gave me in the process of educating Finn Kühn on the difference between Chaos and I and the way he's speaking about me and to me _now_?"

"Yeah, all of that."

"What's any of that got to do with my shootin' for the Universal Championship? Fuck am I supposed to do here, handicap myself? Give an advantage to Engy?

Is that fair to anyone _other_ than him?

Ask yourselves that question. Would that be acceptable to you, any of you watching in fact, to have to handicap yourself and set your own goals aside against a man as talented and successful as Dexter Bright, a man who needs no such advantages to succeed?

Would it be fair to do that to _myself_ after all I've been through and what I aim to achieve?

It's been nearly a year since I lost the strap via cash-in to an at the time "Bruce" Blingsteen then fell short of reclaiming it after he, an obviously rabid Kardashian fapper, decided to cut and paste the Caitlin Jenner outta that shit and apply it to himself knowing I'd never expect a "man" to mutilate himself just to throw me off balance, which it did and is now why I'm prepared for similar shenanigans from similarly desperate enemies, for the record.

...Chris Chaos."

"Hahahahahaha! That's a bet!"

"And a safe one I think. Hasn't Chaos been in various forms of mid-op since he lost the Uni? Only a matter of time now."

"I know, right? What's the hold up though? He's gotta be gettin' tired o' takin' Jenny Myst's rod up the tooter and lookin' for a change of venue by _now_.

Anyway, sorry...

Ever since Blingsteen authoritatively took and kept the title long enough to drop it to our homeboy James Raven (I guess one hardcore Jimmy was enough), I've been workin' my way back up to this point. More than six months, through wins and losses, longer than it took me to get here the first time after signing my contract. And I did it the ol' fashioned way. I did what was necessary to restore confidence in Jim Caedus. I elevated my game. I took on every challenge set before me. I remained patient and snatched my opportunities when presented.

I fuckin' earned it...

...and I collected a second 24/7 briefcase as well as 1/2 of the Tag Team Titles along the way.

What's Engy got? The X-Treme Title (after what has to be one of if not _the_ longest reigns in recent history or ever), the prestigious title "King of the XWF" and the other half of the Tag Team Titles. That sound like a man who needs a hand in any context other than back-swung across the face?

Why, in the name o' Gilly's Kryptonian Cooze-Crusher, would I give Engy, a stellar competitor, any breathing room? That ain't how _he's_ accomplished all he has, is it?

Is it?

Is that what you've been doin', fam, goin' a bit easier on The Engineer than you should have? Have you been lettin' this silvertongued punk politician, a Senate hopeful somehow with an "unknown hometown", fool you into thinkin' he ain't a wolf in sheep's clothing, victimized by your own conscience, telling yourselves, "hey, he used to be

, that deserves some winky winky leeway"? If so...why? I know damn well _Engy_ ain't ever done anything of the sort. He damn sure didn't show _me_ any quarter the first time. Neither has anyone else and nor would I ask them to. Hell, I encourage my opponents to do the _opposite_."

"Well he did kind of go easy on you in his first promo that first time around."

"You mean by flooding me with compliments like we were close friends and hiring some lookalike to portray me as his spirit guide in that suburban pansy's rendition of a "drug hallucination" he later Finn Kühn "second language" recanted and called "semi comatose delusions" because he's a pussy with no backbone to own his own botch? False flattery by a transparent prick intended to weaken my offensive, that's all that was.

#Dexter, do me a favor and forego sippin' the shady-über-feminine frapp this round.
#Slam some Elixir du Testes, ya dickless coward-ass ranker.

Bit of a _massive_ coincidence by the way, wouldn't you say? What he did back then? A lot like a less intense version of what he's been pulling recently, no? Am I supposed to fall for it this time? After our first encounter in the ring when he basically wore me out from start to finish and dominated me to the point of Chris Chaos status?

Hell with that.

I wasn't as on point then as I am now, like I wasn't when first facing Danny Imperial, the latter being a mistake I've corrected since. The former being a mistake I very much intend to correct at Turning Point...since I was robbed of that satisfaction at War Games. The Living Legend Luca Arzegotti said it himself with his kickass swingin' nuts post-Warfare rundown show (please don't stop doing those, fam)-

------> "...(Jim) won’t stop until he’s avenged that loss and then some." <------

Bullseye.

However, in this case I'll be lookin' less for pure, balls-out vengeance and more so aiming for revenge via success...by attaining the XWF Universal Championship for the second time and restoring the strap to the heights of respect it deserves. A respect it's been denied since I lost it.

So there it is, Eng', cards on the table. And if you were wondering, "did my lame limpdickery do the job on Jim Caedus?", your answer is: far from it. But by all means, continue to exhibit the underlying fact you ain't about true competition, you're about victory via the path of least resistance. No kinda warrior whatsoever."

"Path of least resistance, Jim? Everything else you've said aside, the X-Treme Title is a 24/7 burden, not to mention he's had to defend it during every sanctioned match. Which he has. Even against you."

"That's true, bro."

"Please... The in-ring defenses, yes, impressive; like how I never lost the TV Title in a defense. The 24/7 aspect though? Not so impressive. All he has to do is kick out and run the fuck away and that's about as easy as it gets. I would've gone for it myself, I woulda snuck up when he was literally asleep and lightly laid across him for a ref's whispered three count but not only ain't that sneaky shit my style, it's kinda like the guy has a proximity alert device wired to his empty nutsac and you can't ever get the drop on him.

Far-fetched notion?

Yeah.

Right.

You humiliated me the first time, Engy. That ain't gonna happen again. Are you capable of defeating me?

Obviously. You utterly pulverized me already.

Am I capable of defeating you?

According to your latest words, not only am I but I "scare you"." Shaking his head. S I G H. "Can't we all just not get along? Your compliments and patronizing observations are the cyanide you slipped into my cereal, so forgive me if I dunk you face-first in response, ya black-widow wimp. Comin' at me like I'm Keanu and you're Pacino, you can stick that flaccid Satan's flattery right back up your Beelzebub's bunghole. Finn Kühn wasn't scared but Engy's scared? Engy's worried?

You take me, the roster, the fans and the brass for saps?

Engy ain't scared in the slightest, Engy doesn't respect me, he doesn't even like me.

Still can't help but insult the universe with your thin veneer of "sincerity", eh?

What an asshole.

"Keep building up that negative karma", Eng'. Keep the spineless tongue-in-cheek ironic comments coming, I'll go ahead and keep bashin' you over the head with honesty.

"Is there hope for me?"

Lord...... Shut the fuck up, Dexter."

"......That it? ......Very concise as usual, Jimbo."

"Oh God no..."

"What now?"

"NNNNNNNNNNN...stay in theeeeeeeeeere!"

"What the HELL, you have to piss again!?"

"NNNNNNNNN!"

::Jim's eyes frantically dart around, searching for-

-aha! He snatches the empty plastic bag and begins forcing his way between the front seats to the back::

"Oh no...NO! ABSOLUTELY not!"

Popping free into the back and crouch-shambling to the rear of the vehicle. "Sorry Drew but Engy has a tendency to inspire my bowels to vomit! He makes spouting bullshit look so easy and tantalizing! Also, coffee and Taco Bell. Now clear the way, toss me all the napkins we have and accept my apology in advance!"

::Moments later...::

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"

::A solid 4 minutes and every damn napkin after that...::

Pulling his Dickies up. "I am SO sorry about that, brothers."

Coughing and stifling the dry heaves in between gasps of oxygen through the hole in the driver's side window. "This is the last time I coop myself up with you for any extended amount of time! That stench...it has to be what the interior of Bourbon's toilet bowl faces every time that hippo-butted butterball spreads cheeks for a sit down!"

Also hacking, gagging and gasping for air at his lowered passenger window. "Did you eat a corpse!?"

"I'm not used to fast food, alright?"

"Oh shit..."

About to tie the boom-boom bag up. "Go ahead, get it outta your system, Drew. Hit me with as many as you've got."

"No, it's Poop Dogg- er, SNOOP Dogg! Damn your colon, Caedus!"

"Huh? What about him?"

Wide-eyed stare through the window. "He's actually LEAVING!"

"What??" Clambering for the front seat. "No fuckin' way!"

Sliding through the front seat to the back allowing Jim access to the driver's seat. "Way. Get your ass in the captain's chair and get ready to "work off that debt" with whatever hair-brained scheme you've got going now."

::Jim is too excited to respond as he fights his way through the seats and back into position.

There indeed is Calvin Broadus, pulling his gold 1967 Cadillac (with the handle SNOOP DOGG air-brushed across the front above the grill) out of his spacious garage and into the street::

Elated. "_Finally_! And no security guards along for the ride!" Giggling fiendishly as he raises his coffee cup in triumph, a tone of "gotDAMN I'm cool" to his voice. "I told you guys this would work.

Brothers...buckle in. Operation: Doggcatcher about to go into overdrive."

::Victory sip::

PPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!

"All over the windshield too..." Drew dry heaves in the back.

::Without warning Snoop hits the gas, suddenly peeling out to zoom off down the street::

"Oh no you di'in't!"

::APEX FINE MEATS roars to life, wheels squealing and smoking long before Jim slides into drive and accelerates into act-

-they screech to a halt.

Jim's door opens and his arm, freshly doused in urine, heaves the cup o' pee into the street.

SLAM!

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL!!::

::The Doggmobile already has plenty of ground on the Meat Wagon and unfortunately, despite Jim nigh smashing the gas pedal through the floor of the van, the larger, heavier vehicle continues to give up more ground as the seconds pass::

"You're losing him already, Jim!"

"I'm assuming you didn't factor this scenario into your plan."

"You know what they say about assuming, Drewski."

::Jim flips open the van's center console, revealing two big-ass red buttons, the lower labeled "If at first"::

Observing the buttons. "What are we, racing for pinks now?"

::Jim presses the unmarked red button.

Both Jim Caedus and Robert Main find themselves flattening against their seats as the burst of nitro rockets the van forward and thank CHRIST for the city of Diamond Bar's bevy of drag-strip length streets, amirite?

Drew Archyle, however, unbuckled, finds himself tumbling to the back of the van::

::SQUISH::

Regarding the current location of his right hand...within an untied plastic bag, in horror. "I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna KILL HIM!"

::The Meat Wagon is now rapidly gaining on The Doggmobile::

"Mwahahahahahahaaa...ain't no escape, ya leadfooted felon! Jim Caedus gonna save you _yet_, Unc'a Snoop!"

::As if on cue, the mini-monitor display monopolizing the niche for a sound system pops on...::

"Nigga, y'all ain't catchin' sheeit but a beat down if y'all don't bacc the fucc up and kicc roccs!"

Fighting against the g-forces so as to respond to the visage of Snoop Dogg taunting them on-screen. "What in the hell!? How-!?"

"Stupid-ass niggas, this Snoop muthafuccin' Dogg! I been watchin' y'all since my nigga threw you out the LAST time!"

"You knew it was us out here the whole time!?"

"Nigga HELL YEAH I knew, what I just said!? Y'all been hilarious as hell too wit' all that stake out shit in there, the niggas AND the bitches been laughin' aaaaaall damn day. Ain't no mo' comedy tho, now y'all gots to g-!"

::SPLAT!::

::A flung bag o' dung smacks into the display, the sheer weight of its contents shattering the monitor's glass and silencing the Dogg::

Laughs. "NICE shot, Drew! That showed him!"

"I was aiming for your HEAD you dirty, rotten sunuvabitch!"

"Aw crap, I'm sorry man!"

"And- AND...I'm using your precious Dickies jacket to wipe my hand!"

::Jim cringes.

Meanwhile, the van's nitro boost now worn off but still pushing comparable speed to keep up, Snoop masterfully takes a sharp right::

"HOLD ON!!"

::Jim attempts to match the maneuver.

The Meat Wagon rolls over sideways-

CRASH!! CRUNCH!! SMASH!!

-somehow rolling completely over back onto all four wheels, the left side tires resting against the curb::

"KILL you!!"

::SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEAL!!::

::The Meat Wagon accelerates and Snoop, having apparently braked to watch the rollover, hits the gas in kind and again, the chase is on.

I'd like to paint some poetic picture of discarded papers and aluminum cans kicked up in the wake of close vehicular pursuit, perhaps a jaywalking pedestrian or two diving outta the way for safety...but this is an extremely wealthy neighborhood in Diamond Bar so the streets are spotless and the only waves being made are those of the curtains in the front windows of the immaculate mansions as waspy eyes peek out of curiosity and/or irritation.

Snoop hangs a left-

-Jim manages to mimic while keeping all four wheels on the asphalt::

Cocky, loudly to himself. "I done told you, "cuz", I'm gonna save your puppy ass whether you like it or-"

"Shut the fucc up, white boy."

"Snoop!? You can still hear us??"

"Dumb ass peccerwood, y'all ain't break shit but your own monitor, course I can hear you! Now hear dis!

Rollin' down the street smokin' indo, slippin' on gin and juice!"

"What a hack, you flubbed your own lyrics! It's sippin', _sippin'_ on gin and- SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!"

::The Doggmobile lets loose an oil slick!! And try as he might to avoid it, Jim ends up steering the Meat Wagon right into the thick of-::

"Psh."

::Oh, wait, no, false alarm. The width of the oil slick turns out to be less than that of the distance between the van's tires and Jim is easily able to avoid the hazard, the oil reserves hitting empty seconds later::

"HA! Real slick there, Snoop, you punk 99-cent Store Bond villain!"

"Nigga fucc you! Ain't nothin' but a gang-star paaaarty!"

"Gang-star"? Isn't it "gangster party"?"

::The sudden release of a gang of tiny spiked balls into the road behind The Doggmobile answers that question::

"Aw shit-"

::These Jim can't avoid, the rubber on the front wheels bursting apart on contact.

Instantly Jim's hand smacks down onto the "If at first" red button-

-and a second nitro burst propels the Meat Wagon forward, the rims sending a shower of sparks and dug-up asphalt to either side of the front of the van.

So powerful is the second nitro boost in fact, the distance between the van and Snoop's whip is closed within seconds, the Meat Wagon colliding with The Doggmobile from behind and shoving it forward::

"'Ey!! You muthaFU-"

::Snoop's response is cut off as he and his ride are accelerated across a final three-way neighborhood intersection toward the hillside beyond!

Jim jams on the brakes.

The Doggmobile brakes as well...though too late, the wheels vaulting up onto the curb and sliding across the grass-

-then over Snoop goes::

Screeching to a complete stop to the tune of grinding metal. "Oh God...oh God..."

"Looks like you worked off that debt afterall, Jim."

"No, no, no, no, no..."

::Petrified, Jim exits the vehicle and begins jogging over to the hillside::

(very much on camera)

::DING! DING!

DING-DING-DING!::

::Jim's "old, invalid Mexican drug cartel Kingpin in a wheelchair with a bell for suspenseful communication" Breaking Bad ringtone sounds from his pocket, startling the man::

Pulling the phone free and answering. "Go for Jim Caedus."

"Jim, we got those lab results back and... I don't know how to break to this to you but... Joachim Bright? ......He's your son."

"_WHAT_!?"

"Hahahahaha!! Just joshin' ya, you idiot. Killed Snoop Dogg yet?"

"Carmine!?"

"Who else?"

"Fantastic timing. You're literally preventing me from doing what you've asked. Goodbye."

::DING! DING! DING-DING-DING!::

"Oh for fu-" Answering. "Hello!?"

"Mr. Caedus?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Caedus, the blood test you requested came back. Joachim Bright is your biological son."

"Dammit Carmine, _enough_!"

"I'm...sorry, sir, I'm not sure who you're referring to."

Face draining of color in realization. "Wait, is this Dr. Drawpper? Dr. Baum Drawpper, nationality anyone's best guess?"

"It is."

"Wowzers...my bad, I completely forgot about turning in that blood sample I collected from Joachim in our one and only off-camera face to face meeting. Well...thanks for the good(?) news. If you don't mind however, I'm in the middle of-"

"Wait, there's more, Mr. Caedus."

"Hey, jump _what_ shark?"

"The results for that OTHER blood test you requested came in as well...... Dexter Bright is your cousin."

Face palming. "Of course he is. That all, doc?"

The sounds of shuffling papers on the other end. "Yyyyyyyyyyyes, that's about it."

(back to still very much on-camera)

"Alright, thanks for the update." Ends call and resumes approaching the hillside-

-to spy Calvin stumbling back up, a mere bump on his forehead::

"Oh thank GOD."

Woozily. "What you thought, you was gonna...gonna merk out the Dogg?" Pulls a blunt from his pocket.

"That's what I've been tryin' to tell you, Snoop, _no_! I'm tryin' to-" I pause at the raise of Calvin's finger. Relieved he isn't harmed, I let it go. "Please, if it'll help, by all means light up, bro."

Speaking into the blunt. "Where my...where my nigga at?"

"Oh you sneaky, slimy-"

"And the...the shit is self destructible." Now lights the blunt and hits it...

...right before he passes out.

::A flash of amber::

"_FUCK_!"

"I've been waiting for this all day, Jim."

"What happened to us? We used to be such good fri-"

::Jim vanishes in a flash...as does the Meat Wagon a moment later.

--Castle Caedus--

::Jim, Drew and Robert find themselves teleporting safely into Jim's living room back home::

"Well...that was nice of him."

"Definitely a much better outcome than the last time with the powerblasts."

Looking out the front window. "Where's the Meat Wagon?"

::A flash of amber.

The Meat Wagon drops from a height of twenty feet...right through the roof of Castle Caedus.

APEX evacuate to the front yard, staring at the wreckage in silence::

"......Dick."

--Diamond Bar--

::Snoop's number one bodyguard approaches his fallen employer, helps him into consciousness::

"Boss? You ok?"

"Who...Who Am I (What's My Name)?" Passes out again in an amnesiac fog.

"JIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM!!!"

::STATIC::

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