Post by eldouchobaggo on Apr 29, 2011 13:16:10 GMT -5
All movement and chatter ends abruptly when Doucho violently slams the door of his lockerroom. After recovering from their shock everyone slowly turns toward the source of the disturbance. Doucho’s screams send them back into shock.
“What the fuck was that?”
There is a general shrugging and mumbling.
“No, seriously, what the fuck was that? I’m walking up the ramp tired from my match and Marvin just saunters up and ddt’s me onto <b>MY</b> belt and then just walks away. What the fuck? Bruc-E, Juan why the fuck didn’t you beat him down like a punk? I know you could take him so what the hell was the issue? Were you afraid? Shocked? Did you think it was funny?
I think it's funny! Funny that this whole lesbionic clusterfuck stood around chatting about their periods while I was assaulted. I though I was hanging with a bad bunch of dudes. Juan, you were supposed to be carrying the whole fucking gym on your shoulders while I was gone. At first I thought this meant you'd really stepped up your game, but now I see it's just shows how sad and pathetic Combat Consulting is without me."
This comment starts Richard on the road from shame to anger.
"and Bruce, take that fucking thing off!"
Bruc-E removes his mask and holds it in front of his crotch like an awkward character in a period piece fiddling with his hat.
"If anybody should have had my back it was you. Your my best friend and I brought you to the big show. We all know that your not the most deserving of your position on skill alone and I expect from you than anyone else when it comes to loyalty and initiative.”
Doucho turns toward Richard; his fresh accusations shake him from a state of complacency at standing by and listening to his pupils being chastised.
“What about you Richard? Did you think you were getting off blameless? I remember you brasgging to Gregory Vincent at the Premier Aniversary; bragging about your extensive athletic history. You’re past your prime of course but, I’m sure you could have at least done something to slow his escape so these two fags could get their dicks out of each others asses and fucking done something. “
Nick? A punch? A kick? Anything?”
Doucho waves dismissively at the group and retires to his familiar recliner. Several minutes pass. The silence is awkward for the recently dressed down crew. Finally Bruc-E, pushed on by the others, steps forward and breaks the silence.
“So, Boss? What do you want to do about this?”
“Next show, we’ll ha a little talk with the champ.”
“What the fuck was that?”
There is a general shrugging and mumbling.
“No, seriously, what the fuck was that? I’m walking up the ramp tired from my match and Marvin just saunters up and ddt’s me onto <b>MY</b> belt and then just walks away. What the fuck? Bruc-E, Juan why the fuck didn’t you beat him down like a punk? I know you could take him so what the hell was the issue? Were you afraid? Shocked? Did you think it was funny?
I think it's funny! Funny that this whole lesbionic clusterfuck stood around chatting about their periods while I was assaulted. I though I was hanging with a bad bunch of dudes. Juan, you were supposed to be carrying the whole fucking gym on your shoulders while I was gone. At first I thought this meant you'd really stepped up your game, but now I see it's just shows how sad and pathetic Combat Consulting is without me."
This comment starts Richard on the road from shame to anger.
"and Bruce, take that fucking thing off!"
Bruc-E removes his mask and holds it in front of his crotch like an awkward character in a period piece fiddling with his hat.
"If anybody should have had my back it was you. Your my best friend and I brought you to the big show. We all know that your not the most deserving of your position on skill alone and I expect from you than anyone else when it comes to loyalty and initiative.”
Doucho turns toward Richard; his fresh accusations shake him from a state of complacency at standing by and listening to his pupils being chastised.
“What about you Richard? Did you think you were getting off blameless? I remember you brasgging to Gregory Vincent at the Premier Aniversary; bragging about your extensive athletic history. You’re past your prime of course but, I’m sure you could have at least done something to slow his escape so these two fags could get their dicks out of each others asses and fucking done something. “
Nick? A punch? A kick? Anything?”
Doucho waves dismissively at the group and retires to his familiar recliner. Several minutes pass. The silence is awkward for the recently dressed down crew. Finally Bruc-E, pushed on by the others, steps forward and breaks the silence.
“So, Boss? What do you want to do about this?”
“Next show, we’ll ha a little talk with the champ.”