July 21, 2018, 01:35:48 PM

Author Topic: Where The Wild Things Are!  (Read 92 times)

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Offline Jair Hopkins

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Where The Wild Things Are!
« on: April 16, 2018, 06:43:23 PM »

Like every day in every way and everywhere you go, just ain't safe
The only thing that I can say, to you is pray
Cause when n--- start equippin', and throw the clip in
Your blood drippin', and got you slippin'
Another victim, don't know whats hit them – through his spinal
Just another man who defeated by survival
That's your biggest rival, in your whole life

DATE: 4/14/18

“Lord, pray for me!”

It was several days after Adrenaline 83 had finished. Around the same time, a little lighter shade in the skies as the few lights lit up the area, giving the same ambience as that night. Hopkins looked around, standing in front of the dumpster he had THOUGHT he put Viduus in there, flamed broil but instead was his friend, Boogie, placed in Viduus’s attire. Hopkins shook his head, looking at the now burnt-up dumpster. He looked over at his partner-in-crime, Boogie before eyeing the dumpster once more.

“I almost lost your black ass in that bullshit exchange. You healin’ good though.” Hopkins said, somewhat of a sigh of relief following.

“Bruh, you tried to barbecue me like a fuckin’ Pig!” Boogie responded, much higher response in his voice.

Hopkins threw his arms up in the air.

“So yeah, I see this motherfucker’s face and attire and I’m supposed to know its you automatically?  I mean damn, can you be glad I got you out before you got crisp like Kettle Chips?” Hops said, just looking at Boogie a bit hysterically.

“Would you still love me if I turned into Honey Maple Bacon?”

Hops instead delivered a cut-throat sign to that last line from Boogie as he lowered his head before pointing behind him.

“Go sit atop of that rusted vehicle there and look cool as possible while I roast into that thick-skinned amphibian.” Hops continued to point until he hear Boogie’s footsteps go in reverse.

Hopkins soon enough himself turned around, pivoting off his right-foot as he ‘swaggishly’ traveled to that rusted old vehicle and proceeded to ‘plop’ onto the hood of the vehicle as he quickly gathered himself, looking over at Boogie.

“Yes, I came back to this spot. I didn’t need to but I wanted to. I wanted to be reminded heavily of you, Viduus. I will never forget what you attempted. Yeah, you walked away, side by side with your speaker, sharing laughter in humiliating me and making me beat down my own brother. You took advantage of my rage. You took advantage of my want for vengeance. You turned it all against me in a cruel way, an unbelievable way, but I guess it’s only due to the fact I showcased to millions who tuned into Adrenaline 82, just how human of a being you truly were.”

“I made people feel sorry for you with that footage. But then again, could I be the one who was fooled? Played into thinking that Viduus would be this vulnerable with his personal life? All a set-up from the get go. The Speaker played me like a pawn, knowing I wanted Viduus head on a silver platter. I give them props for that. I was blind to the music. Blind to the realness. Why ever  would the Speaker talk with me in the first? Yeah, I ask these questions now than earlier. This could’ve all been prevented but I put folks I love in trouble because of vengeance.”

Boogie, clapping his hands towards Jair, a good four feet away.

“I told your naive ass it was all something smelly in the waters. You aint want to listen but instead put me in a viable position. I mean look at all of this?”

Again Boogie was showcasing his bandages and the healed wounds on his face thanks in part from the beatdown taken mistakenly.

“You still alive though right?”

“Barely.” Boogie shrugged off on the reply, turning his head.

Jair waived off on Boogie’s attempts to get him all soggy and make him feel worst than he already was feeling.

“Viduus, I swear to the depths of this fucked up world, I’m going to make you pay dearly for what you have done. You and your friend, you definitely got the best of me. You slowly crafted a well done plan to get me to tank to levels where you could easily place me in jeopardy and you damn near did. That’s okay, I just hope you all had your fun because come South Beach Brawl, things won’t be such fun. I’m taking you for a ride, a rocky one. I’m snatching more than just your ‘edges’. All your vanishing tricks won’t help you this time. I will be with every step you try to take. I will find a way. When there’s a will, there is forever a way! The Devil been trying to do me in since day one of birth. The laughter, the vilified silence he brings, I always had to be ten steps better because he was always going to be there, on my ass, looking to take me down in the worst way.”

“Last time, it was Dakota Smith as such showcase was more of a highlight for him than myself. The only highlight I had was survival from death. Devil almost had me there but I would not submit, steady reaching for the rope break and what a fuckin’ rope break it was. I survived his best, I survived his Deadman Wonderland on those rocks. Anyone else, that's R.I.P, but I am hard-headed for a reason. My girlfriend had to watch and pray for me in that hospital. A brief coma, a dark black spot I was stuck in for some time until I found light and revived. I didn’t win but I grew wiser and here we are, same event, but instead of a Dakota Smith, we have wannabe that will never ever live up to that. I know everyone will be looking at that Salt Waterfront Deathmatch and the Dakota Smith versus the new 4CW Champion in Chris Madison in that 4CW Championship throwdown but fuck it, I’m stealing the show by snatching Viduus head off and bowl with it into the salt waters of Biscayne Bay and watch the Gator or Croc come up and get its Dinner.”

“I’ll be damned if I let you make a fool out of me and live to embarrass me further on the grand stage. Oh fuck no. You got it all the way fucked up to think that you going to play with a noose around my head, embarrass me, beat me and take my title? Oh no. This Pride Championship is here to stay. The only areas it will travel is from my shoulders to my waist. That’s the distance. You know though, about that controversy shit on that noose, it was a clever play in your part. You played like a bitch, get me from behind after all that Jedi Mind trick bullshit. Pride goes the fall. It falls nowhere except back in my hands.”

“It’s all about survival in this playground. Yeah you look the part but your performance don’t match up. I saw that match with you and Dakota at Retrograde and I feel even though the fans wanted an encore...I didn’t. You got the win, but you were carried. The same way I’m going to carry you to the pithole of extinction come SBBC. You can talk all that sweet creep shit about pride and the fall of grace of my time as Champion all you want. This is not going take the title off my shoulder. I’ve fought my ass off to get this from Kimitsu. You fuckin crazy if you think I’m going to let you just take it away from me on some dark-toned vibe. You gonna have to show your marbles to get this gold. Yeah you can do dangerous but can you do pure strategy? Can you put together a plan to put me out of my misery? That’s a no! This Pride Championship is staying with me and Crooked Kingdom. At the end of SBBC, three-fourths of CK will have gold.”

Boog, having a lit cigarette in his mouth, was puffing along as Jair was going in on his opponent but something caught Boogie’s attention and after pulling the cigarette from his mouth, he looked at Jair.

“Bruh, this is funny but hear me out. We in Atlanta right? That show “Atlanta”, did an episode talking about this dude that goes around and kills folks randomly, they called him the “Florida Man”. Here I’m sitting puffing and as time goes on, all I can think of is that motherfucker being exactly that dude. Viduus Morta aka the “Florida Man”. That’s some wild shit!”

Jair just looked at Boogie, a bit stunned that he didn’t know the actual meaning of that whole thing and what he was talking about was completely fictitious, but he then began smiling.

“Yeah, Viduus is Florida Man, world’s worst fucking superhero. “Florida man gets beat to death after faking his own death to evade his opponent at South Beach Brawl” Yeah...that’s Viduus. Fits him perfectly. Nothing but hype. That’s all he i--”


*Hard Coughs*

The harsh, hard coughs emerged through form of echoes as the Pride Champion, Jair Hopkins was covered in a cloud of dust, coughing with a Smoker’s cough. It wasn’t smoke that he normally associated with. He was beating against the walls that was closed in on him. Like the ratio of a cereal box, there wasn’t much room.


There was no one in sight to give the Champion a hand, not even his brothers of the stable “Crooked Kingdom”. Jair was on his own like in the past. He had to find a way out of there quick or else he would suffocate to the smoke and die. He needed an out in the worst way.

“Here goes noth--OW!

The attempt to shoot force into his right hand through the wall that was inches in front of him, he tried to punch through but nothing but pain came as a result as Jair held his hand, hurting. He looked up, creases of light but it was too far away and without climbing gear or a ladder, it wasn’t a choice for escape. The area continued to cloud up as breathing became even more difficult.

“I need to get out NOW!!!”

His voice was cracking under the smoke and pressure as it seem his time was fading fast. He looked at his hand he just hit the wall with and he looked at it HARD. Staring down towards it as he looked back at the wall. He closed his eyes and as seconds past by rapidly, he took deep breaths, through all the smoke. His eyes remained closed, continually taking a few deep breaths. It seemed he was gearing up for something and boy did he showcase what focus can do for not just him but for anyone. The same fist thrown before, he threw it again towards the wall only for this time, the wall cracked. Following with a powering kick, the wall opened up.

“I’m out baby! Game over!”

Or was it? He stepped through the hole he created and it was a whirlwind of chaos. Hopkins, with his title walked on, brushing his shoulders off as if the battle was won. Something reminded him that it was probably far from over and that thing was an arm, gripped around his neck as he was lifted off the dirt floor and held up, eye level with...Viduus Morta. A ten, eleven-foot Giant, grasping Hopkins and his title by the throat.

“You cannot run away from me. You will not run away from me!”

“Drop me you fucking piece of shit!”

That caused a laughter from the Giant Viduus Morta.

“Not yet! Not until I get what is mines!”

Even with a tight grip around his throat, squeezing little by little the life out of Jair, he still had enough strength and will to raise the middle finger up to Viduus who again, chuckled, seeing it all as a joke.

“You not getting shit! I don’t care, you can be 20 feet tall and still will fail in taking this title away from me!”

“Oh, is that so?

As if being thrown a challenge, Viduus looked amused by it before blowing out of his mouth, what looked to be dark, thick smoke that layered right onto Jair’s face, turning into like a mucky, greasy, slimy texture.

“See you in hell, Champ!”

Letting go of his grip, Jair began free-falling as the Pride Title flew off his shoulders. Viduus grabbed it in timely fashion as he watched Jair fall fast. The floor opened up underneath.


The loud echo of Jair was nearly transparent as he was falling further and further away into the abyss of the unknown. His time had faded.

“Pride goeth before the fall!”

Jair fell through the black hole and the unprepared for laugh of Viduus was the calling card that made things even worse as things slowly went to a fade with Morta holding the Pride Championship high.


DATE: 4/14/18

Jair immediately rose up off the couch, body dripping in sweat as his face was like a running faucet. He grabbed a towel, pressing his face into it as he woke up, huffing and puffing. He picked up what was an open bottle of a Colt 45, a 40 ounce version or what urban folks called a “bumper”. He only had about a half of it left alongside an open bag of Microwave Popcorn that was beyond cold at this point. He didn’t let that bother him as he dug in and got a few pieces and chugged into his mouth as he turned the bottle up and chased the popcorn kernels with the beer.

“I need to stop falling asleep to B-rated movies. Rather not watch the shit at all. Maybe if I sleep to NBA TV or SportsCenter, maybe I won’t be in such shit spots with these dreams.

Jair, conversing with himself, caused a shake of his own head as he picked up the remote and quickly scaled down the list of channels until he landed onto ESPN. From what little light was in the room he was in, the clock was lit enough to see that it was past 2 AM. Jair continued wiping himself off dry.

“Fucking Viduus! Only one who can fuck my whole sleep pattern up!”

Jair tossed the controller onto the table only for it to slide all the way to the edge and fall to the floor. Jair, ignoring, just looked at the screen, holding his jaw as he worked up a well-placed thought but nothing else uttered from him. Just a smirk that left more to be desired with things coming to a fade to black.