Post by Jason Cashe on Sept 17, 2015 5:43:42 GMT -6
*I mention Chaos a bit in this so I figured to post it here as well, keep things together.*
...................
"So you're saying he can beat me? Bullshit..How you figure?"
His beard soaked with sweat as he took in rapid short breaths. Cashe was working out, training at "The Bakery" in Colorado. His old rival and former Partner, Johnny Knuckles is probably overworking, being rough in helping Cashe prepare for his upcoming match.
"Again."
"Fuck off..Tell me how you think this dude could beat me? You think I've Lost something out there?" Cashe seemed on the offensive but Knuckles wasn't trying to get under his skin any. He was just making realization.
"You know as well as anyone does that in this business, ANYTHING can happen! I beat you after how many times trying? You didn't expect it, you didn't think it could happen and it did!"
Turning his head down at the floor, sweat flings from his beard. Cashe begins shaking his head, disagreeing or taking a stand to Knuckles point.
"Nope..Nope, just ain't gonna go down man. Look Seamus is taller than me, wider than me, heavier than me but..Nah, I'm gonna get at that like I do. Give me the rock and I'll run with it. Right up the fucking gut and into the endzone. Test me.."
Working combos into a body stand, one of those upper male dummies you can punch on. This one had a black eye like someone had taken a sharpie marker and drew it in. A red one used to add on a bloody nose and a split lip. It wasn't always hard work down in "The Bakery" but right now Cashe was crashing into it with rights and lefts, highs and lows, mixing it up to the face and the body. Every punch called out by Knuckles as he circled Cashe watching the technique.
"Alright now give me 70 Push ups and 40 Situps. Let's go!"
"HA! Trippin....This isn't physical fitness bitch, we training to fight. I don't need a six pack buddy, I likes me donuts!"
Biting at the tape wrapped on his right hand, Cashe moves towards the small ring almost directly against the far wall. At times it made things a bit rough crashing into the wall as you try to spring off the ropes. Knuckles thought it added toughening to the body, preparing people to take knees or chair shots from outside interference. Something that helped make him unique or at least he thought so.
"Come on, let's spar. You up for it? Make your own pin count.."
"Fine. This time biting will call for extreme rules and I'm grabbing the chairs and tables!"
"You don't wanna take that shit extreme man, I did take that X-Division (Xtreme) from you back in the day..Tee Cee Dub motha' FUCCCKA! Haha..Round one, get in here.
Pulling off his T-Shirt, Knuckles is already wearing upper body tights. Dressed in sporty shorts like he was playing a pick up game, he hops up onto the ring apron and dips through the ropes. Cashe inside tosses a towel he had grabbed to wipe his face with. Cashe laughs at the sight of Knuckles as the two begin to circle one another.
"Ding, Ding!"
Pzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!
The alarm clock going off startled him awake. Reaching over, he slaps the bright red numbers but the sound doesn't stop echoing throughout the room. He slaps it higher and it stops. Slowly pulling his arm back, he disappears completely back under the thick silk like blanket before moments later flinging them off him. There next to him is Niobe Martin, wearing nothing but some booty shorts and a big T-shirt that has rode up her backside. Cashe on the other hand..
"Ahhhhhhh!" Yawning, he begins to stretch before reaching down and scratching the inside of his thigh. Today was not a Boxer or Briefs day, today was a whitey tighties type of day.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he sits up at the side of it and yawns again. Leaning over to his right, he rips out a card shuffling fart. From behind him, Niobe slaps him to his bare back.
"Get the fuck outta here Nasty boy!!"
"This is what couples do ya know! They smell each other's farts! Do you feel the love yet?"
He was laughing. She was not. Reaching to hit him again, Cashe hurries to hop up off the bed to get away. Niobe grabs the covers and goes back into the shelter of the blanket and disappears. Cashe bounces around still laughing before moving around the bed and leaving through the door. This was not his home in Houston but rather what seemed like an Apartment.
"The odds of her moving in now seem to have dropped some! That smell is traveling. Note to self: Remember to wipe. Haha!"
Into the smaller sized kitchen, he pulls open the refrigerator and grabs a half gallon of Orange Juice. He unscrews the cap and tips it back, drinking straight from the jug. Juice leaks out from his mouth and dribbles down his beard and rolls down his chest. He gasps for air after swallowing the gulp. He recaps the juice and returns it before shutting the frig. Grabbing an oven mitt on the counter, he uses it to wipe himself dry of the liquid.
"Where is that belt?" Not having a Championship in 4CW had become normal when he fucked around and won one for another Promotion. Now he had to remember he had a belt to carry around again. This time it was the CW Mayhem Title.
In the living room attached to the kitchen, he found it. Unbuckled and spread out touching one side of the couch to the other. It was a beautiful belt, fit him completely.
"Thought I seen you in here!" Lifting the Championship by the main plate, he pulls it in front of him and stares down at it. To him it holds some value. To others it might not, even in the promotion where it came from.
"This is the Mayhem Championship. The owner of Chaos Wrestling even let me help design it! The trouble now is that I signed an Exclusive Contract with 4 Corners Wrestling. Any outside bookings are now done through 4CW Management in agreement with myself and/or Tidus Howe. Some shit like that, the business side of this sport has never been my strong suit."
Placing the belt around his waist, he reaches back and clicks in the snaps so wears tight. Now in his whitey tighties, Jason Cashe is also wearing his Mayhem Championship. He stands proud, stands in a pose like Superman before breaking out the Heisman pose. Laughter comes shortly after and he stands normal before slapping the main plate.
"See Chaos doesn't want to acknowledge this anymore. They want to pretend this doesn't mean anything because I signed exclusively with 4CW. They are even going as far as to introduce a new belt in it's place or at least have had talks to do so. The "Bedlum" Championship! Pssh...fuck that noise! Those fuckers think this can be written off? Thinks I can be forgotten as their Champion? I take PRIDE in being the Champion of Mayhem!
Heh...see where this is going now? Where the connection is made? At one point and time the 4CW Pride Championship had been worn by some big names. Flipp, Brennan Devlin even had potential to be something. Now? Now it's worn by Seamus O'Connor...Now it's in question as far as I'm concerned. I question how much of a Champion Seamus can be. I question how far he can lift, carry, and RISE that Title up to new heights."
Turning from the couch, Cashe is now staring into the camera. Now things were becoming more direct as he does so often with people. It was a quality you either liked or were approached with at one time or another. It was a double edge sword and often led to trouble being found. Especially on twitter.
"What will do you do with that Championship Seamus? How will you hang with the names that have not only carried it but defended it with...Pride? Did you fall into the Title by mistake because the ring was surrounded by people gunning for both your opponents? Brennan got MURKED and John Austin was locked in my sights the moment I seen him come out from the back. You were the ONLY one nobody paid attention too. You win by default. You have the advantage or had the advantage and now you stand wearing a title that is suppose to represent Pride.
Can you be Proud if the events that unfolded led to you becoming Champion? Is it something you now in this moment feel you earned in a fair fight? If you do, you're lying to yourself. I know you still have plenty to prove not only as a Champion but as a competitor. I mean really all you have to do is lose your first match after winning the belt and then lose the title in your first defense and you've followed the very path that Brennan did as Champion. See with my belt here? I don't care if Chaos Wrestling pretends it doesn't exist, pretends it has no value.
I won a small tournament and then a Triple Threat Ironman Match to earn it and in my opinion it is their highest valued and soon I will force that view on them as well. I didn't become this Champion in a questionable situation like you so I have a reason to have more Pride than you do Seamus. I have reason to hold my head up a little bit higher than yours and you can argue that until you're blue in the face. The moment we step inside the ring, the very second that bell rings we will see which "Champion" ends up with their hand raised in victory. Neither Title on the but in a sense there will be some "Pride" on the line..."
Noticing the bedroom door is still open, he steps over, peeks inside at the bed where Niobe is still hidden under the covers sleeping. He closes the door quietly and turns back to the camera.
"Speaking of pride...heh...I should tell you...Dallas and I have talked a few times. Right before you two hooked up and a little after when you went on "vacation". That girl is a tease but damn if I could have reached DEEP in Dallas if you know what I mean!"
Putting his finger to his mouth to motion for himself to keep quiet. He steps away from the bedroom door and back through the living room. He reaches the window and pulls up the blinds to see the less than classy looking apartments. They were more of a cover, a place where he could keep low key and in Colorado he liked that about them.
"I shouldn't talk trash about your wife. That's my bad man, it's just a natural thing for me ya know? A real shit starter! I could never bang with a chick named after the city of Dallas. Plus them smile bones is almost buck toothed! I'd rather have none than goofy looking grills. Enough about that though, let's talk about you and I. Remember the last time we were in the ring together?
It was before you got your shot at Pride. The Adrenaline before that when you took on John Austin one on one. I interfered and for good reason as I'm sure you'd agree. After what he did, what Gold Standard did to make an impact? It was more than due and still due for John Austin to catch a beat down and I will surely be the one making him regret putting that chair into my back over and over and over again..."
Rolling his shoulders, feeling the ghost pain of the attack Austin had given him when he turned down the offer to join Gold Standard.
"After I interfered though I dropped you by accident. I hit you and laid you out and while it was a mistake, it wasn't something I wouldn't do again in the same situation. You learn quickly in this business that trust isn't something had for very long. Gold Standard doesn't trust each other, they use each other as long as their own gain doesn't step on the other members toes. With someone like you who has no allies, only a loving woman at your side. It's something I can kind of relate too. Niobe can handle herself, she has a Title of her own to prove it and even hers was won without a helping hand. So haha...Even she has an upper hand on your little victory.
The ONE thing you bring to this match that I look forward to the most is your Fighting Spirit. You're Irish, it's embedded in your upbringing, in your very culture! So I expect a scrap but your size doesn't matter to me. I'll get out powered and probably thrown around a bit but best BELIEVE I'm getting my shots in and I hit harder than this 6 foot frame lets you believe! Best understand that the 3 times I've held the 4CW Championship, I was and still am the trendsetter in this fucking promotion. I don't care what Aidan or that lunatic fucking Dakota is off doing for the cameras.
I have put asses in seats and been a KEY piece in making 4CW a fucking BRAND! Big Four doesn't include 4CW without me and that's not me claiming to be the best but it's me explaining that you are in for a fight big homie...One you can prepare for but only until you've experienced it can you really grasp at the lengths you will NEED to go to even think about beating me. Chin check time pal and you're about to be checked out!
And who the fuck is Rick Van Horn? I haven't seen it but I hear the man has something to say? Look...look, let me be REAL clear Seamoose!" Scratching his face in a burst of irritation, he has those thoughts that make men do bad things running through his head.
"Don't bring him to the ring with you. I'm telling you man...If I watch something he said to me, about me, to praise you, direct?"
The top of his shoulders leap in a big shrug. His mouth bunches together and stretches out in a wide line saying he can't help it, he doesn't know what to tell you but the truth as he sees it.
"I'm GONNA put my hands on him. Got me? The Man Horn will be blowing LOUDLY in Cleveland!! As I'm ripping his fucking tongue out his mouth! As I'm sticking this thumb.." Shooting at the camera is a stiff thumb, his other hand grabs it as if to hold it back as Cashe seems to be struggling.
"Dig it deep down into his eye socket until the fans hear that man make a sound that very few people have heard outside of the movie theaters...But that's where I'm trying to be nice about it, I'm giving you the warning before hand. Keep him out of sight, hide him well because bitches on the sidelines, cunts who hide their heads don't need to be talking big...period."
Wiping his mouth hard with his index and thumb at both ends, he sighs, breaths hard out his nose and then smiles as his face turns back to the viewing cameras.
"This isn't a picnic. Our sport is Action or it's Galveston Island Wrestling. 4CW is a Reality Show, scripted by Management and Producers. Here your value, your importance comes from one thing. Fighting. Competing and seeing in any setting and situation who can LAST and find success. Seamus you will be given that same moment now, I am prideful of the things I've done inside that ring. The damage, the injuries I have caused to others....That doesn't make me a bad guy, it makes me GOOD at my JOB! So...Irish Bastard...I hope you are good at yours, you should hope you are better at yours than I am mine. Now Shhh...I have morning wood rising and a smell I just NEED to have stored in the Flavor Saver here!"
Running his fingers through his beard, the thought of saving flavor in it probably bothered most. To Cashe it was his humor, his personality. He tip toes swiftly back to the bedroom door. Tee Heeing back to the camera, he slowly opens the door and creeps inside. Then things get loud.
"BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH!!"
"THE HELL!!?!" Throwing the blankets wildly from her body, Niobe Martin thrashes about on the bed to see what the "Minion Fight Alarm" sound was. Her face full of rage as she sees it's Cashe, high stepping in his whitey tighties with his Mayhem Championship wrapped around his waist.
"HEY! HEY!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"
Yet he continued his march back and forth at the front of the Queen Sized Bed. The noise almost louder as the room fills with it's echo.
"BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH!!"
From the bed, Niobe throws one of the pillows at him, it stumbles the noise for a split second. She grabs another pillow and holds it tightly over her head to drown out the sound. Her muffled screams said it wasn't working as the scene fades.
...................
"So you're saying he can beat me? Bullshit..How you figure?"
His beard soaked with sweat as he took in rapid short breaths. Cashe was working out, training at "The Bakery" in Colorado. His old rival and former Partner, Johnny Knuckles is probably overworking, being rough in helping Cashe prepare for his upcoming match.
"Again."
"Fuck off..Tell me how you think this dude could beat me? You think I've Lost something out there?" Cashe seemed on the offensive but Knuckles wasn't trying to get under his skin any. He was just making realization.
"You know as well as anyone does that in this business, ANYTHING can happen! I beat you after how many times trying? You didn't expect it, you didn't think it could happen and it did!"
Turning his head down at the floor, sweat flings from his beard. Cashe begins shaking his head, disagreeing or taking a stand to Knuckles point.
"Nope..Nope, just ain't gonna go down man. Look Seamus is taller than me, wider than me, heavier than me but..Nah, I'm gonna get at that like I do. Give me the rock and I'll run with it. Right up the fucking gut and into the endzone. Test me.."
Working combos into a body stand, one of those upper male dummies you can punch on. This one had a black eye like someone had taken a sharpie marker and drew it in. A red one used to add on a bloody nose and a split lip. It wasn't always hard work down in "The Bakery" but right now Cashe was crashing into it with rights and lefts, highs and lows, mixing it up to the face and the body. Every punch called out by Knuckles as he circled Cashe watching the technique.
"Alright now give me 70 Push ups and 40 Situps. Let's go!"
"HA! Trippin....This isn't physical fitness bitch, we training to fight. I don't need a six pack buddy, I likes me donuts!"
Biting at the tape wrapped on his right hand, Cashe moves towards the small ring almost directly against the far wall. At times it made things a bit rough crashing into the wall as you try to spring off the ropes. Knuckles thought it added toughening to the body, preparing people to take knees or chair shots from outside interference. Something that helped make him unique or at least he thought so.
"Come on, let's spar. You up for it? Make your own pin count.."
"Fine. This time biting will call for extreme rules and I'm grabbing the chairs and tables!"
"You don't wanna take that shit extreme man, I did take that X-Division (Xtreme) from you back in the day..Tee Cee Dub motha' FUCCCKA! Haha..Round one, get in here.
Pulling off his T-Shirt, Knuckles is already wearing upper body tights. Dressed in sporty shorts like he was playing a pick up game, he hops up onto the ring apron and dips through the ropes. Cashe inside tosses a towel he had grabbed to wipe his face with. Cashe laughs at the sight of Knuckles as the two begin to circle one another.
"Ding, Ding!"
=========================
Pzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt!
The alarm clock going off startled him awake. Reaching over, he slaps the bright red numbers but the sound doesn't stop echoing throughout the room. He slaps it higher and it stops. Slowly pulling his arm back, he disappears completely back under the thick silk like blanket before moments later flinging them off him. There next to him is Niobe Martin, wearing nothing but some booty shorts and a big T-shirt that has rode up her backside. Cashe on the other hand..
"Ahhhhhhh!" Yawning, he begins to stretch before reaching down and scratching the inside of his thigh. Today was not a Boxer or Briefs day, today was a whitey tighties type of day.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he sits up at the side of it and yawns again. Leaning over to his right, he rips out a card shuffling fart. From behind him, Niobe slaps him to his bare back.
"Get the fuck outta here Nasty boy!!"
"This is what couples do ya know! They smell each other's farts! Do you feel the love yet?"
He was laughing. She was not. Reaching to hit him again, Cashe hurries to hop up off the bed to get away. Niobe grabs the covers and goes back into the shelter of the blanket and disappears. Cashe bounces around still laughing before moving around the bed and leaving through the door. This was not his home in Houston but rather what seemed like an Apartment.
"The odds of her moving in now seem to have dropped some! That smell is traveling. Note to self: Remember to wipe. Haha!"
Into the smaller sized kitchen, he pulls open the refrigerator and grabs a half gallon of Orange Juice. He unscrews the cap and tips it back, drinking straight from the jug. Juice leaks out from his mouth and dribbles down his beard and rolls down his chest. He gasps for air after swallowing the gulp. He recaps the juice and returns it before shutting the frig. Grabbing an oven mitt on the counter, he uses it to wipe himself dry of the liquid.
"Where is that belt?" Not having a Championship in 4CW had become normal when he fucked around and won one for another Promotion. Now he had to remember he had a belt to carry around again. This time it was the CW Mayhem Title.
In the living room attached to the kitchen, he found it. Unbuckled and spread out touching one side of the couch to the other. It was a beautiful belt, fit him completely.
"Thought I seen you in here!" Lifting the Championship by the main plate, he pulls it in front of him and stares down at it. To him it holds some value. To others it might not, even in the promotion where it came from.
"This is the Mayhem Championship. The owner of Chaos Wrestling even let me help design it! The trouble now is that I signed an Exclusive Contract with 4 Corners Wrestling. Any outside bookings are now done through 4CW Management in agreement with myself and/or Tidus Howe. Some shit like that, the business side of this sport has never been my strong suit."
Placing the belt around his waist, he reaches back and clicks in the snaps so wears tight. Now in his whitey tighties, Jason Cashe is also wearing his Mayhem Championship. He stands proud, stands in a pose like Superman before breaking out the Heisman pose. Laughter comes shortly after and he stands normal before slapping the main plate.
"See Chaos doesn't want to acknowledge this anymore. They want to pretend this doesn't mean anything because I signed exclusively with 4CW. They are even going as far as to introduce a new belt in it's place or at least have had talks to do so. The "Bedlum" Championship! Pssh...fuck that noise! Those fuckers think this can be written off? Thinks I can be forgotten as their Champion? I take PRIDE in being the Champion of Mayhem!
Heh...see where this is going now? Where the connection is made? At one point and time the 4CW Pride Championship had been worn by some big names. Flipp, Brennan Devlin even had potential to be something. Now? Now it's worn by Seamus O'Connor...Now it's in question as far as I'm concerned. I question how much of a Champion Seamus can be. I question how far he can lift, carry, and RISE that Title up to new heights."
Turning from the couch, Cashe is now staring into the camera. Now things were becoming more direct as he does so often with people. It was a quality you either liked or were approached with at one time or another. It was a double edge sword and often led to trouble being found. Especially on twitter.
"What will do you do with that Championship Seamus? How will you hang with the names that have not only carried it but defended it with...Pride? Did you fall into the Title by mistake because the ring was surrounded by people gunning for both your opponents? Brennan got MURKED and John Austin was locked in my sights the moment I seen him come out from the back. You were the ONLY one nobody paid attention too. You win by default. You have the advantage or had the advantage and now you stand wearing a title that is suppose to represent Pride.
Can you be Proud if the events that unfolded led to you becoming Champion? Is it something you now in this moment feel you earned in a fair fight? If you do, you're lying to yourself. I know you still have plenty to prove not only as a Champion but as a competitor. I mean really all you have to do is lose your first match after winning the belt and then lose the title in your first defense and you've followed the very path that Brennan did as Champion. See with my belt here? I don't care if Chaos Wrestling pretends it doesn't exist, pretends it has no value.
I won a small tournament and then a Triple Threat Ironman Match to earn it and in my opinion it is their highest valued and soon I will force that view on them as well. I didn't become this Champion in a questionable situation like you so I have a reason to have more Pride than you do Seamus. I have reason to hold my head up a little bit higher than yours and you can argue that until you're blue in the face. The moment we step inside the ring, the very second that bell rings we will see which "Champion" ends up with their hand raised in victory. Neither Title on the but in a sense there will be some "Pride" on the line..."
Noticing the bedroom door is still open, he steps over, peeks inside at the bed where Niobe is still hidden under the covers sleeping. He closes the door quietly and turns back to the camera.
"Speaking of pride...heh...I should tell you...Dallas and I have talked a few times. Right before you two hooked up and a little after when you went on "vacation". That girl is a tease but damn if I could have reached DEEP in Dallas if you know what I mean!"
Putting his finger to his mouth to motion for himself to keep quiet. He steps away from the bedroom door and back through the living room. He reaches the window and pulls up the blinds to see the less than classy looking apartments. They were more of a cover, a place where he could keep low key and in Colorado he liked that about them.
"I shouldn't talk trash about your wife. That's my bad man, it's just a natural thing for me ya know? A real shit starter! I could never bang with a chick named after the city of Dallas. Plus them smile bones is almost buck toothed! I'd rather have none than goofy looking grills. Enough about that though, let's talk about you and I. Remember the last time we were in the ring together?
It was before you got your shot at Pride. The Adrenaline before that when you took on John Austin one on one. I interfered and for good reason as I'm sure you'd agree. After what he did, what Gold Standard did to make an impact? It was more than due and still due for John Austin to catch a beat down and I will surely be the one making him regret putting that chair into my back over and over and over again..."
Rolling his shoulders, feeling the ghost pain of the attack Austin had given him when he turned down the offer to join Gold Standard.
"After I interfered though I dropped you by accident. I hit you and laid you out and while it was a mistake, it wasn't something I wouldn't do again in the same situation. You learn quickly in this business that trust isn't something had for very long. Gold Standard doesn't trust each other, they use each other as long as their own gain doesn't step on the other members toes. With someone like you who has no allies, only a loving woman at your side. It's something I can kind of relate too. Niobe can handle herself, she has a Title of her own to prove it and even hers was won without a helping hand. So haha...Even she has an upper hand on your little victory.
The ONE thing you bring to this match that I look forward to the most is your Fighting Spirit. You're Irish, it's embedded in your upbringing, in your very culture! So I expect a scrap but your size doesn't matter to me. I'll get out powered and probably thrown around a bit but best BELIEVE I'm getting my shots in and I hit harder than this 6 foot frame lets you believe! Best understand that the 3 times I've held the 4CW Championship, I was and still am the trendsetter in this fucking promotion. I don't care what Aidan or that lunatic fucking Dakota is off doing for the cameras.
I have put asses in seats and been a KEY piece in making 4CW a fucking BRAND! Big Four doesn't include 4CW without me and that's not me claiming to be the best but it's me explaining that you are in for a fight big homie...One you can prepare for but only until you've experienced it can you really grasp at the lengths you will NEED to go to even think about beating me. Chin check time pal and you're about to be checked out!
And who the fuck is Rick Van Horn? I haven't seen it but I hear the man has something to say? Look...look, let me be REAL clear Seamoose!" Scratching his face in a burst of irritation, he has those thoughts that make men do bad things running through his head.
"Don't bring him to the ring with you. I'm telling you man...If I watch something he said to me, about me, to praise you, direct?"
The top of his shoulders leap in a big shrug. His mouth bunches together and stretches out in a wide line saying he can't help it, he doesn't know what to tell you but the truth as he sees it.
"I'm GONNA put my hands on him. Got me? The Man Horn will be blowing LOUDLY in Cleveland!! As I'm ripping his fucking tongue out his mouth! As I'm sticking this thumb.." Shooting at the camera is a stiff thumb, his other hand grabs it as if to hold it back as Cashe seems to be struggling.
"Dig it deep down into his eye socket until the fans hear that man make a sound that very few people have heard outside of the movie theaters...But that's where I'm trying to be nice about it, I'm giving you the warning before hand. Keep him out of sight, hide him well because bitches on the sidelines, cunts who hide their heads don't need to be talking big...period."
Wiping his mouth hard with his index and thumb at both ends, he sighs, breaths hard out his nose and then smiles as his face turns back to the viewing cameras.
"This isn't a picnic. Our sport is Action or it's Galveston Island Wrestling. 4CW is a Reality Show, scripted by Management and Producers. Here your value, your importance comes from one thing. Fighting. Competing and seeing in any setting and situation who can LAST and find success. Seamus you will be given that same moment now, I am prideful of the things I've done inside that ring. The damage, the injuries I have caused to others....That doesn't make me a bad guy, it makes me GOOD at my JOB! So...Irish Bastard...I hope you are good at yours, you should hope you are better at yours than I am mine. Now Shhh...I have morning wood rising and a smell I just NEED to have stored in the Flavor Saver here!"
Running his fingers through his beard, the thought of saving flavor in it probably bothered most. To Cashe it was his humor, his personality. He tip toes swiftly back to the bedroom door. Tee Heeing back to the camera, he slowly opens the door and creeps inside. Then things get loud.
"BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH!!"
"THE HELL!!?!" Throwing the blankets wildly from her body, Niobe Martin thrashes about on the bed to see what the "Minion Fight Alarm" sound was. Her face full of rage as she sees it's Cashe, high stepping in his whitey tighties with his Mayhem Championship wrapped around his waist.
"HEY! HEY!! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!"
Yet he continued his march back and forth at the front of the Queen Sized Bed. The noise almost louder as the room fills with it's echo.
"BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH BEE DOH!!"
From the bed, Niobe throws one of the pillows at him, it stumbles the noise for a split second. She grabs another pillow and holds it tightly over her head to drown out the sound. Her muffled screams said it wasn't working as the scene fades.