[Couple of days after Tommy winning the TV title, he was at his AirBnB with his crew who were celebrating his recent victory with a random party bender. Let’s just say it all was a blur, then one morning, Tommy was awoken with a random parrot that was in a cage somewhere in the room, who was calling out to Tommy. Then he gets up from the floor where there was random women all over the floor, he then looks at the parrot in the cage as it was cocking its head at him.]
T: Who are you?
Parrot: WHO ARE YOU SQUAHHKKK
T: Are you mocking me?
Parrot: ARE YOUR MOCKING ME SQUAHHKKK
[Tommy shakes the cage to rattle it, then a random, short pet doctor man stops him from harming the bird.]
Pet Doc: Hey dude, you need to not harm it!
T: Who the hell are you?
Pet Doc: I’m the doctor who you brought to your party last night. You told me to bring my rare exocitc parrot named Lemmy to the party.
T: So….
[Then the pet doctor pulls out his phone to show him what went down the night prior, then he remembers what happened. Then randomly, the owner of the AirBnB just entered the home they rented was trashed, and the owner gotten pissed at what went down.]
Air BnB Owner: OH WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FREAKEN HOUSE!!
[Then Tommy turns around to see the owner who looked like Carl from Aqua Teen Hunger Force who was smoking a cigar, then one quick motion, he told the partiers to get out of the house with his shotgun he had in his hand. Once the place was cleared out, Tommy and the homeowner sat down somewhere in the messed up sunroom where they see his jazzuiz filled with jello.]
Air BnB Owner: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY FREAKIN MILLION DOLLAR JACUZZI?!?! EXPLAIN YO SELF TOMMY!
T: Look, let me be clear, I don’t have any idea what happened about that shit. Look, I will pay you for the damanages. I swear!
[Then the owner see’s one of the remaining party goers in his backyard who was getting her back blown by E-Dogg in the cut, then they head up to the session and Tommy saw E-Dogg and Jonee. While the owner was cheering him on, Tommy looked repulsed over what he was seeing as Jonee cocked her head towards the two and she moaned as E-Dogg was stroken like crazy.]
Jonee: Awh yeah… ywahh… congrats To…awh mouaaaa!
E–Dogg: YEah fucka… oh congrats T… shit…
Air BnB Owner: Fuck yeah, this is the kinda shit i am into! You know what, don’t worry about the money… let me film this shit, and make money off of it!
[Tommy then immediately wanted to vomit as he went back into the house, leaving the commotion behind. He then heads to his room, and puts on his sweats, white shirt and running shoes as he wanted to go for a walk around the neighboorhood, but before he could go, he wakes up that nurse chick who was in his fucked dream who was naked and under the influence of some ganja.]
Unknown Woman: Tommy… where…where are you goingggg?
T: I’m about to take a walk around the neighboorhood.. Are you alright?
Unknown Woman: I am… just sleepy… and horny!
T: You always are sleepy and horny, gotta lay off the ganja farmer shit. Don’t you got a job or a home or sumthin?
Unknown Woman: Eh, I do… i live in with my parents… i’m kinda a trust fund kid…
T: So you’re telling me that you never had to work in your life? What do you do all day then…
[Then she randomly starts to scream and uh…”queff”... underneath the sheets. Then she got out of the bed, and she latches on to Tommy who wanted to leave the room, then the door opens to see JB and Reggie also in their workout gear see’s all the commotion.]
JB: Oh shit T, didn’t mean to stumble upon your activities this this woman.
Reg: What’s gotten into you papi? This mamacita really wants her fifteen minutes of fame homes!
T: It’s not like that… she on my jock hard…
[Then she lets go of him and lays back in his bed, huffing and puffin over not getting Tommy’s disco stick in the wee hours of the early morning. Then the three men all take a lap around the neighborhood and noticed how nice the houses are. After about five miles down, they stop at a local outdoor cafe, to chill and take in the city of Texas. Each men ordered water to drink, and they all just kicked back to chill and get away from the house.]
Reg: T, how you feel about winning that TV title from Bulk last Warfare?
T: Ehh… i feel the same way about my matches.. First i’m hyped then now i’m just like…okay, what’s next?
Reg: I see what you mean, there’s something more you feel like you need to achieve. I’d considered the TV title as a stepping stone.
T: True, but you know I’ve low key been thinkin about that belt since 2017… can’t believe I have it now. Plus, i have to defend it on PPV in scotland… shit, there’s a lot I got to do now.
JB: Well T, consider this belt as your chance to prove that you can hang. Even if people think it was a fluke or if Bulk decided to not pull a “it doesn’t work for me, brother” card, think of the belt as a way to prove to the xwf you still have what it takes.
T: I know…. But fuck… it’s still surreal I got this belt… an–
[Then all three men hear a song that was blasting out of someone’s phone, and they heard Tommy’s name in it. After the song stopped, Tommy felt slighted by the sneak disses that was on the record.]
JB: I think that person made a sneak diss towards you, what you gonna do about it?
Reg: Yeah, what you gonna do?
[Tommy then drinks his bottle of water, and slams it on the table. He simply shrugs and looked at the street, then after that, the trio decided go back to the home and they changed into their street gear and they drove to a local, run down recording studio in fifth ward Texas, where they meet a shady producer who simply goes by the name of “Soulja K”, the producer then informs the trio to pay him 3k in cash each, which at first they disagreed. Arguments ensued, and they left Soulja K and Tommy alone to sort it out.]
T: Why you tellin us we gotta pay 3 grand to record here?
Soulja K: Tha’t wh’at s’ah t’ell yah boy, i’f yer don like iet den piss off!
T: No, I don’t need to leave here.. I’m gonna record this shit without you man.
Soulja K: Y’ou d’ont nahh how i operated boy, i’gotsa killas in the cut… y’all betta pay my monnie or i’mma kill yall where y’all stand ya hear me, white boy!
[Then Soulja K spat on his face, and Tommy gotted pissed off, then he grabs a wire mic from the ground and strangled the producer's neck with it, then not even ten seconds past when Reggie and JB stopped him from choking out this producer to death.]
Reg: LET HIM GO T!
JB: NOT WORTH IT…
T: NAHH HE NEEDS TO FUCKIN DIE!!...
[Then JB breaks it up, and Tommy lets go of the wire off his neck. The Soulja K was breathing heavily as he was kneeling on his knees trying to catch air, T looked at him and realize what he did was wrong so he and the trio left the studio before the police showed up. Some time passes, and they were back at the AirBnB where they were in the now cleaned up sunroom where they all sat in a circle to talk about what’s gotten into T.]
JB: You didn’t need to strangle that man, you know we could have been killed down there.
T: I know, but who care it’s not like we have many more days in here anyways.
JB: I mean yeah, we are about to fly back home in a couple of days from now, but you need to cool it down. First Jonee to this shit…
T: Whatever, i’m not going to act like a perfect man. We are all screwed up like DJ Screw was down south here, just cuz i won this belt doesn’t mean i’m going to change into an upstanding citizen overnight. As it’s been noticed, I'm more jaded as a man than ever before.
Reg: I’m king of being jaded, but that doesn’t mean I am strangling people with mic wires over their heads.
[Tommy ignores the heated argument, then their attention turns towards E-Dogg, Jonee and a film person filming their interaction, which they ended up getting filmed in the process angered the film man.]
Filmer: YOU THREE NEED TO GET OUT OF THE WAY!
[Reggie then sits up and roughs up the film guy, then the owner of the house see’s the issue and confronts it.]
Owner AirBnb: Hey i’m shootin a freakin porno scene here, can’t you three bozos go elsewhere in this house?
T: Porno… ah that’s it! Fuck this house… unless you both want to be involved with a porno shit… i’m takin my shit leavin this place!
[T goes to his room to pack up his stuff, and he sees the unknown woman who’s still in the bed naked cuddling with his newly won Television title. He snatches it from her, and rolls his carry on out of the house waiting on an uber to arrive to spend the night at motel 3. JB and Reggie decided to come with him due to the owner being pressed about his shoot being ruined, so they all get in the ride and head to the motel 3. Each of them had their own rooms in different level, and his was level 3, room 316. As he sat on the bed, he pulls out his mini tripod to air out his frustrations.]
“Fuck man, i’m still star struck over winning the TV title from Bulk, still don’t know why I had gotten beaten down by Dick’s goons, but as you see i’m no sellin it because fuck em and his goons hope Bulk beats his ass at the Fire N’ Ice. Also, I decided to go to a motel 3 to be alone from the guys, but i guess they still fuck with me even if I have my many erratic and crazy outbursts from time to time. Sometimes, I feel like I need to be alone in order to process my thoughts and feelings, nobody would understand the real T.
What they see is a white rapper who has been in and out of the fed, a foot dude with an attitude problem with a baby mother who’s slutting it out with E-Dogg. They only see that on the screens and interview, but what they don’t truly see is a man who’s broken. A broken man who had little to no regard for one’s own safety at times. I’ve been put through so much hell, that even the devil couldn’t warm me up on a cold night. Sometimes, I question if it’s worth living or not seeing another day, might be my inner demons talking to end it all. End all what I worked for, end for things that are temporary fix to a long term solution.
Maybe deep down i’m a failure who can’t get up into anyone's favor, or be able to be on anyone’s radar, well that’s a lie because apparently there was a newcomer named CRAM who thought it be great idea to come in sneak disses at me in his home studio. I don’t know who he is, but from what I heard from his song, he needs to work on his wordplay a bit. His sound quality sounds like something from a tin can. His overall beats he picks off the tube is something a mediocre producer would do for on the fly for five dollars. What i mean is, the song is trash that even Fantino the music critic would dub as a solid “4”.. No higher then five but not below a three in this case.
So now, I am taking on this CRAM guy for this belt, and they have said in the past that I can choose a stipulation to get this match going. Since he already aimed the first strike, I guess I can say he got the juice… but how much blood I can squeeze out this giant turd of a wrestler who can rap?
Well i’m going to lay it out there… I want this CRAM guy in a barbwire deathmatch at that castle. I want to squeeze his vocal cords with a piece of barbwire that will lascarate his neck in the process. Leave visible marking on his flesh by the end of it, and he won’t need to worry about kisisng my foot, but what he needs to worry about is… me taking things too far in that ring. I don’t even care if I don’t retain, because honestly I already know deep down inside I won’t hold the belt for long. Even then, like I said before, if I held this belt up it would be a controversial thing for Warfare.
Would anyone want to see me main event the show with this belt every other Saturday night?
That’s the question for those in the know to figure it out, because all I can do is show up to that castle and beat the ever loving shit out of CRAM so he can SCRAM out of XWF with his flesh embroiled with barbwire, I want to see his tendons exposed for fuck sakes and see his jaw get wired shut with the Barbwire, fuck I just his blood to smear in that ring in Scotland or where ever the hell this castle on the hill is based at.
So CRAM considers this Barbed Wire Deathmatch as your fifteen minutes of fame from a man who doesn't give a shit. Consider rethinking your rap career… because you will end up sounding like Kanye Through The Wire days once the match is over.
See you in hell, CRAM”
[From there, he simply turned off his mini tripod and it was getting late so he ended up hitting the sheets to sleep as it faded to gray ashes.][/color]
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