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Andre Dixon · (08-01-2021)

As Andre lays there thinking about his past, present, and future his eyelids begin to get heavier and heavier until finally his eyes close and he dozes off. After what seems like a few hours his eyes open and he is standing alone in what appears to be a room with no walls. Even if there was, the darkness around him prevents from seeing further than a couple of feet until a loud bang echoes through the boundless area and a spotlight shines down overtop of him. He looks down to see himself in baggy, gray coveralls and his hands and ankles bound in shackles. He tests the strength of the chains by tugging them apart with no such luck to break them. A deep pain begins to pierce him from inside his gut and he buckles over in agony. When he looks back up a large wooden pedestal stands before him. He follows it with his eyes all of the way up where the Honorable Judge Miss Fury sits with a gavel in her grasp high above her head. In a downward motion, she swings the gavel down and it booms several times delivering another deafening echo.

Fury- "Order in this court!" She directs her shout down at Andre.

Fury- "Bailiff!! If our defendant cannot stand, provide him with a proper seat!" Her voice carries and repeats through the giant hall.

Bb- "Yes, your honor."

Bailiff Bourbon manifests through the darkness and approaches Andre who stands in confusion.

"Defendant?? The f--" Andre says under his breath as Bailiff Bourbon winds up and clotheslines the bones out of him.

Andre does a backflip around the bailiff's huge arm by the force of the blow and lands on his back. Bailiff Bourbon then returns to the bench next to the Honorable Judge Miss Fury.

She coughs to clear her throat before proceeding.

"With the charges of treason and conspiring against the B.o.B.. How do you plea?!" She points the gavel down at him. He looks at the bailiff, Bobby Bourbon, who stands with his arms folded glaring at him with a scowl.

"I, uh, I don't know what's going on… Bobby? Fury?? It's me… Andr---"

"HOW DO YOU PLEA?!?!"

"Not fucking guilty!!" He yells up to the judge as he manages to slide around to prop himself up to his knees.

"Likely story!! Bailiff!! Summon the jury!"

Bailiff Bourbon turns his back and disappears into the darkness only to reemerge a moment later with seven identical looking TK's following in single file behind him. They make two rows off to the side of Judge Miss Fury and Andre and all take a seat in one motion.

"Jury… Have you come to your decision?" The judge asks while still pointing the gavel down at Andre. The TK on the very end stands up.

"You're Goddamn right we have, your honor."

TK pulls out a wadded up piece of paper from his pocket.

"In the case of Andre Dixon versus B.o.B., we, the jury, find the defendant….

Guilty as fucking charged!"

Honorable Judge Fury laughs hysterically (evil laugh) and raises the gavel into the air once more.

"Andre Dixon, under the order of B.o.B. and the state of New Hampshire…."

"New Hampshire??"

"For crimes of treason, betrayal, not returning our calls, and conspiracy… you are guilty and sentenced to……….

DEATH!!!!"

Loud footsteps can be heard as every little thing seems to carry an echo in this place. From the darkness appears a large figure in a black hood.

"Executioner Ozzy!! If you would PLEASE do the honors!! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!"

"Off with his fucking head!!"

A choir of TK's join in and chant as the large hooded man drags a large axe behind him which sounds like a million nails on a chalkboard. He swings it around and it is all of the seven feet that this man walks around with daily. He props it on his shoulder and makes booming steps towards the guilty party. Bailiff Bourbon produced a wooden barrel from thin air and rolled it over to Andre where he grabbed him and easily threw him down against it.

"Wait a minute!! Fuck! Fuck!! FUCK!!! Can we talk about this?!?!"

In an instant he hears the wind getting sliced by the axe and a loud roar from the man holding it before Andre's world head tumbles away.

Andre opens his eyes and he finds himself lying in a bed. Not his bed, though, but what looks like a bunk bed. A cold sweat pours from every inch of his body as Andre sits up and looks around in disbelief as he is in the bottom bunk of a prison cell. He gets up and walks back and forth before walking to the door and looking out at a way too familiar view.

“This can’t be real. This has to be a dream…” He says.

“Oh it’s real Andre, it’s REALLY real.” Doc says

Andre turns around and looks at the top bunk where the familiar voice just came from to see what looks to be his roommate laying in the top bunk.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“‘Tis me!” Doc sits up, hanging his feet off the side of the bed. “King Doc!”
[white]
Doc pushes himself off the bed and lands on his feet to stand proudly before me. He don’t look like the king, Andre remembers, but there he was. His hair was long and scraggly… Same with his beard…. He looked like shit and that he’s been here a long time.

“I know who you are.” Andre interrupts. “Are you in my head right now Doc? This isn’t real. It can’t be… If it is, then what are you doing here?”

“Why… The REVOLUTION, of course! Don’t you remember? You, sir, and your dearest friends in B.o.B. were the only ones to embrace and be loyal to the GLORIOUS KING of the XWF…. But, just like B.o.B., their choice to do so was NOT in the popular vote. Then they just locked me away and disposed of the key….” Doc sighs as he folds his hands behind his back and starts to walk away.

“Get me the fuck out of here.”

“Oh, indeed, you all witnessed it, yes? I was cooked like a goose and burnt to ashes… The thought and loyalty to King Doc alllll went with it…”

He just stands there now… With his back to me staring at the blank wall. Andre goes to take a step forward and finally notices the bright orange overalls he’s wearing and a sharp pain pierces through his stomach. It almost puts him to my knees, but he stays up… His vision goes blurry and in his sight, he sees Doc, King Doc, whatever, zipping around the room at like light speed… Back and forth for a few seconds until a gray, ashy figure with a bright red eye stares him in the face from a few inches away.

“I’ll do whatever you want Doc. Just get me out of here!”

There’s a loud BANG! then the cell door slides open. Andre looks over in disbelief. The room is swaying and it’s getting really, really hot.

“Let’s go then…”

Andre blinks a few times and his vision clears and the room and temperature goes back to normal.

Doc walks out as Andre hangs his head and follows in disbelief. This is the last place he ever wanted to be. The scene shifts to an empty cafeteria where we see Andre pull up a chair next to Doc and start looking at whatever it is they gave him to eat.

“Can you believe how bad this shit is?” Andre asks as he looks over and notices Doc is eating fine cuisine, including what looks like filet mignon and a tall glass of red wine. “What the fuck Doc?”

“Something wrong, sir?” Doc asks before he takes a sip from his glass. Andre looks down at the mush in front of him.

“Where the fuck did you get that from?”

“Here? Whatever do you mean?”

“Uh, I stood in line like everyone else and got this… shit.”

“Did you?”

Andre stops for a second and all of a sudden the cafeteria is filled with other inmates.

“What the fuck, man? What’s going on? Where did they all come from?”

As Doc takes another sip with a smirk on his face Andre gets a heavy couple taps on his shoulder.

A big, angry African American man walks over and looks at Doc before looking straight at Andre. “What’s good fam?” Andre asks.

“What the fuck you doin’ sitting over here with this white boy?” He asks as one of his friends steps behind him.

“Why don’t you just move it along, playa.”

“You a traitor to your own people, boy?”

“First of all. Never call me, boy. Second of all traitor is a big word for you isn’t it? You sure you know what that means?”

“You hear that?” The man asks his friend. “He told me not to call him boy.” The two men begin to laugh.

“I’m glad we could be your entertainment for the day but I think you boys need to get the fuck out of here. We were just discussing which one of us was going to fuck your mother first and I don’t think you want to be a part of that conversation.”

The man’s face goes from laughing to very angry real fast. Doc is watching, very entertained by what is taking place.

“I don’t think you realize who you’re talking to BOY!” He says to Andre.

“I don’t think YOU realize who the fuck you’re calling boy. This is your last chance. Take your little bitch there and get out of my face.”

“You son of a…” the friend reaches out to grab Andre. Andre grabs his arm and twists it around until the man falls to the ground in pain.

“I’m gonna fuck you up!”

“Like he did?” Andre asks pointing to the friend on the ground grabbing his arm.

The man looks down before trying to throw a sucker punch at Andre. Andre blocks it and hits him with a hard left followed by an uppercut that sends the man up in the air and through the table. The man gets up and quickly charges at Andre before they are both stopped by multiple guards who refrain the men and take them in separate directions.

After a few hours we pan to a smaller room that looks to be solitary confinement. We see Andre sitting against the wall with his hands over his head.

“I can’t believe this is really happening.” He says to himself.

A sweet scent passes by Andre and it stings his nostrils. He looks up and in disbelief sees Doc sitting in the corner smoking a cigar.

“What the fuck are you doing here? I’m supposed to be here alone.”

Doc just laughs and fiddles with his thumbs.

“See this isn’t real. If it was, you wouldn’t be here.”

Doc teeths the cigar and stands up. He smiles at Andre before flicking an ash on the floor.

“I wouldn’t? Why wouldn’t I? Is it an impossibility? Mister Andre if there is one thing you should know about working with ME it's that nothing should ever be considered impossible. Consider the possibility, sir, that all of those things you’ve heard about me are true. Consider the fact that it doesn’t matter WHO I’m assigned with, WHO I’m against, WHO is down the road, WHO stands in my fucking way. When I’m ON, sir, I’m FUCKING ON.

The pain in Andre’s stomach returns and his vision blurries. Doc stays in the corner, but something else flies around the room rapidly like before until it stops a few inches from his face again.

“This is no, dream, sir.”

Andre is frozen in place and can only blink over and over again as he shudders at the ghastly face in front of him.

“It’s a fucking NIGHTMARE”

The voice changes again and the thing in front of Andre opens its mouth wide and comes forward to swallow his head whole.

All of a sudden Andre’s eyes open and he’s back in his own bed.

“What the fuck?!”

Andre sits up as the scene fades.

I see people wanna come out here and talk shit about your boy and not give him any credit at all. We doin’ it like that, huh? Well let’s keep it real then, shall we?

Where do I even start? Do I start with that bitch boy, dick riding, wannabe Corey Smith? Or do we start with that overrated substitute teacher-looking motherfucker who wasn’t even in this thing a week ago? Or do I talk about North Korean War Criminal and how he just spewed the same shit the rest of them did?

Nah, let’s start with bitch boy. You don’t mind me calling you that, do you, Corey? I mean...if the shoe fits, am I right? Let me just address one thing since you seem to continuously harp on it every single time you mention my name. I am not my uncle and never will be. I never once said I was. I never once asked for shit based on what he did. In fact, I’ve made it clear I want nothing to do with him. So why don’t you get some new material brah? That shit is about as played out as all the B.o.B. bullshit you and your team are talking.

It’s really the same old shit with all of you, isn’t it? Can’t get B.o.B. out of your head? Literally, all I’ve heard is all of you say the same shit over and over again. Just throwing that shit at the wall and hoping it sticks? You guys really taking this shit that seriously, huh? I’ve made it clear what my priorities are. I am Team Discontinuum for War Games. Period. If B.o.B. doesn’t like that? Well...they know where to find me. We’ve talked about it and unlike the rest of you fickle bitches we aren’t too worried about it.

Maybe your sensitive bitch ass needs to learn a thing or two about real friends. You claim to have them but you know what I see? A dick rider. You jump from dick to dick. First Thad and now Alias. You latch onto the top talent and ride that shit like Lil Nas X.

“I’m Corey Smith and everyone should be scared of Alias.” Word? “I’m Corey Smith and I’m going to face Alias once he’s the longest-reigning Uni Champion ever.” Do you realize how much of a bitch you look like bro? There’s showing respect and then there’s whatever the fuck you call that sucking up that you’re doing.

Then again you don’t care about looking like a bitch, right? Just look at the way you acted at Coreytopia. That whole sexy boy shit you tried to pull was so fuckin’ cringe I wanted to gouge my own eyes out when I tried to rewatch that shit.

Let’s face it, Corey. You’ve always just fallen in line. You’re Thad’s bitch and you didn’t even know it. We all do though. The way I see it is you never went after CCP because well...he would’ve shit on you. You didn’t participate in March Madness because well...Doc would’ve shit on you. You’ve never gone after Thad because well...he would shit on you too. Are we seeing a theme here? Then we have Alias who you won’t go after for months because well...he would shit on you and you know it. So you’re going to...wait him out? Wait till he’s got the longest reign and then hope that he’s done with this shit? Call me old school but that’s some bitch shit right there. By the way, that longest reign you’re talking about belongs to my uncle. I bet that drives you nuts, doesn’t it?

Now, as far as Alias goes I know how talented you are, my guy. I also know you needed to cash in that briefcase and get an EASY win over my boy CCP. Badass bro. You really are. Just look at how scared your own teammate is of you. I feel like you and me have been in the ring together in a past life. I dunno what it is about you but it just feels like in a past life we went head to head for the Universal Title. And maybe one day we will go head to head for real. But it won’t be for that title because I want no part of it. Not now, and probably not ever.

I’ll wrap this up with a last but definitely least with Centurion. Cent coming out and calling me not that talented is honestly hilarious. The guy who has been around longer than anyone and yet has never sniffed the Uni Title calling me not talented? You’re as average as they get my guy. You’ve been around longer than anyone and have fewer Uni Title reigns than Peter fn’ Gilmour. You’re a hack who picks and chooses his opponents to make sure things are stacked in your favor. There’s a reason you were a reserve for this shit because nobody wanted your bum ass. Kick rocks old man, nobody gives a fuck about your accomplishments. You can retire anytime you want? Well do us all a favor and do it then, ya bish…

As for the rest of these teams it really doesn't matter who else makes it to the Finals. This thing is ultimately going to come down to B.o.B. and Team Discontinuum and when that happens I'll make sure the RIGHT team wins...

I think I need to remind everyone exactly who the fuck I am...

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