[Trees...]

[Trees...]

[And more fucking trees...]

[As Tyrone Walker shifted in the seat of the SUV he was riding in with his cousin Sam Horry driving that’s all he could think of as he looked out the window. Trees lined either side of the long winding “driveway” that lead up to the house where the three of them were heading.]

Ty: [sighs uncomfortably]
Yo Nigga, are we there YET?

Sam:
Just gotta round one more bend here and...

[Sure enough, the second Sam says that the path magically seems to open up into a clearing where a good sized house sits, behind it we see a second, smaller “guest” house and on either side what appear to be fenced off areas that lead around back.]

Ty:
A’ight, now that’s more like it.

[Sam pulls into a parking spot near Ryan’s Lexus ISF and kills the engine.]

Sam:
A’ight now before we go up in here, you need to know a couple things. First, you may know my dude from the business, but outside the ring he’s got something of a fucked up sense of humor, so try not to get pissed off at anything he says or does, usually he means it as a joke.

[While this is going on, unbeknownst to Ty and Sam, a set of eyes is watching them from one of the front windows of the house...]

Sam:
Let’s do this...

[The two of them open their doors and step out of the SUV, then shut the doors and begin their walk up to the house. When Sam gets to within 5 feet of the base of the steps to the door, the door flies open and there stands Ryan Matthews on the other side.]

Ry:
Surprise asshole!

[In the blink of an eye he whips something at Sam, who catches it with both hands at chest level before realizing it’s a steak. He drops it and looks at his hands for a moment before he looks up to see the door slam shut...]

Sam:
Aw fuck...Yo Ty, RUN!

[As Sam says that, he turns and takes off running toward the SUV, leaving Ty dumbfounded for a moment before “Who Let the Dogs Out” by Baja Men begins playing over the loudspeakers and Ryan’s dobermans, Cujo and Bob come flying out of the fenced in areas from either side.]

Ty:
Nigga what the fuck are you...OH SHIT!

[Ty sees the two large dobermans running at him and immediately beats feet in the same direction as Sam, who by this point has climbed on TOP of the SUV. With the dogs gaining on him, Ty leaps and Sam miraculously grabs his hand and yanks him to safety on top of the SUV. The two of them slowly catch their breath.]

Ty: [looks at Sam, his hands still on his knees and breathing heavily.]
Yo, what the fuck man? I thought you said this dude was cool?

Sam:
Ryan? He is cool, when he’s not being an asshole.

Ty:
A’ight and how often does THAT happen?


Sam:
Him not being an asshole? About 10 percent of the time. C’mon Ty, you know the old saying...

Ty and Sam:
There’s always one...

[The two of them hear someone seemingly dying of laughter and look to the front door to see Ryan Matthews, face down on the front step pounding his fist into the ground while he laughs. Sam straightens up and looks at Ryan with a scowl on his face.]

Ty:
Oh yeah, this is gonna be a blast.

Sam:
That’s fucked up Ry! You know that shit got old about 4 years ago!

[Matthews continues rolling with laughter for a few more moments before pulling himself off the ground and standing up, wiping tears from his eyes while still chuckling slightly.]

Ry:
I always knew you miates were fast but I didn’t know it was on a “sponsored by Nike” level for real, I thought that shit was a rumor.

Ty:
Hey mang, fuck off!

[The dogs called off, Ty and Sam get down off the SUV and walk to the house, the door still open they walk in and find Ryan Matthews at the kitchen door. Matthews smiles ear to ear.]


Ry:
Sam! Aw shit! What’s up you motherfucker?!

[Sam approaches and the two of them smack their hands together almost in a style reminiscent of the Terminator and Apollo Creed. Suddenly a very familiar song that goes with everything seems to play and a loud boom sounds off in the distance and the ground begins to rumble, followed by the sounds of car crashes and screams and...]

Ty: [Bracing himself against a nearby wall]
Hey! Fuck off with the explosions and ground shaking and all that shit mang! This ain’t no goddamn Youtube video!

[Oh...sorry...everything carries on as normal until Ryan decides to pull a trick while the arm wrestling struggle goes on.]

Ry:
Oh hey Evie didn’t see you there...

Sam: [looks away for a moment]
What the...?

[Ryan takes the opportunity to kick Sam in the shin, then slam his hand down to an imaginary arm wrestling table and then raise his hands in victory.]

Ry:
Yo Adrian! Happy Birthday asshole!

[Sam waits for Ryan to turn around then slugs him across the face with a left hook. Matthews stumbles back for a moment, slamming into the wall, then brings a hand up to his chin, feeling to see if it is broken. When he’s satisfied that nothing is, he smirks at Sam and smiles.]

Ry:
Nice one Sam, but I still win.

[Horry smiles, and Matthews looks to Ty.]

Ry:
Who’s this?

[Cue needle scratch...Really? He doesn’t know who the fuck “The Black Jesus”, “Blackimus Prime” and all the 5,000,054 nicknames Ty Walker possesses, is?]

Ry: [Smirks]
Nah, just fuckin with ya, nice to finally meet you face to face, Ty.

Ty:
Right on, Senor Double Crown.

[Right, Ty and Dane, Team Danger...great...]

Ry:
I’m gonna let you have that one just because I know where you got it from. So how is Dane doing by the way?

Ty:
The same as always, being Eric Dane twenty four seven. Only instead of bein’ the champion, he’s runnin’ the show himself.

Sam:
Matter of fact Ry, that’s part of the reason why we’re here. See, Ty and I are already working for Dane and they have this little thing called the Trios titles...

[Matthews, knowing where this is leading, suddenly gets serious...]

Ry: [shaking his head]
No...no no no a thousand times no. OH HELL NO. Not a chance in the bowels of hell.

Sam: [sighs]
C’mon Ry, you and I both know you been beatin the piss outta the boys down at Manny’s gym lately. You need to get some damn aggression out and those kids down at the gym don’t deserve it. Besides there’s plenty of hot bitches...

Ry: [goes to say something, then stops]
Hot bitches?

Ty: [looking around.]
What? Where?!

Sam: [Slaps Ty upside the head]
Nigga don’t no sell my shit now!

Ty: [facepalms himself]
Oh, right... Yeah... Yeah! Hot bitches everywhere, playa. Jus’ don’t fuck wit’ Heidi, she’s...

Ry: [cocks a brow, intrigued]
Heidi? She’s....go on Ty. She’s what?

Ty:
Uh. She’s smokin’ hot, but she’s...

Sam:
Don’t say it Ty, don’t...

Ry:
Either you spit it out or I’m not bothering to listen to another damn thing either of you say.

Ty:
Bitch is crazy, Ry.

Ry: [Looks to Sam]
You haven’t told him how many crazy bitches I’ve dated, fucked or married have you? But in the interest of safety, I’ll play along.

Ty:
I’m jus’ sayin’, Ry, she’s not the sorta chick to mess wit’. Bitch done cut my face up, I’mma need to get some reparations for that shit
in the future.

Ry:
So she’s a crazy fucking lesbian bitch...just my luck. Alright gentlemen, let’s take this conversation elsewhere, I’m hungry, in need of a drink or six, and yeah, having one of those days...and apparently I have an offer I need to consider.

[With that, Matthews goes inside and retrieves a set of keys from the hallway table before coming back to the front door, shutting and locking it.]

Ry:
To the Battle Wagon, gentlemen...

[Sure enough, we pan over and see Matthews’ car has the license plate B WAGN on the back.]

Sam:
Yo Ry, what did you do with the Evo and the Skyline?

Ry:
No more street racing or anything of the like for me Sam, I like this car a lot more than I ever liked the Skyline. Though I have thought of getting a more economical car if gas prices continue to be a bitch.

[It’s at this point that Ty and Sam realize there’s only one other seat in the front and they have to fight over it or Rock-Paper-Scissors or some shit like that to determine who gets it.]

Ty:
Ready?

Sam:
Lets do it.

[Just as the epic R.P.S. duel is about to commence...]

Ty: [pointing]
Yo! Sarah Shahi!

Sam: [surprised, looking everywhere]
Where, where?

[By this point, Ty has gotten himself setup in the other front seat.]

Ty:
The backseat, nigga.

[Ryan chuckles to himself as he starts the car.]

Sam:
Son of a...

[Sam gets in the backseat, glaring at the back of Ryan and Ty’s heads. Ryan then looks up at the mirror and at Sam.]

Ry:
Yo Sam, you comfortable back there dude? Looks like you got some leg room to spare...

[With that, Ryan presses a button that moves Ty’s seat back almost to the point of crunching Sam in the backseat.]

Sam:
Argh! Ryan, move the damn seat back up or...

Ry:
Or what?

Sam:
Or I’ll tell people about that time in Kansas City...

[Obviously not wanting people to know, Ryan moves the seat back up quickly.]

Sam:
Ha ha, I got you again. There was no time in Kansas City, that was Nick Malone.

Ry:
I hate you Sam.

Sam:
Just drive, dammit. We’ll tell you about what the low down is on the way.

Ry:
Alright gentlemen, it’s off to PJ McIntyre’s.

[With that, Ryan backs the car up, then takes off down the same driveway we saw Sam and Ty come down earlier.]

[Fin.]

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