Title: The Beginning of This Screwed Up Joyride III
Featuring: H n B
Date: A Month Before DTV38
Location: Cleveland, Ohio
[Later on that day.]
[We pick back up with the Triptych that gets your girl slick at PJ McIntyre’s, Cleveland, Ohio’s “Most Authentic Irish Pub” located in Westpark / Kamm's Corner's Entertainment District. And you’re welcome for the plug guys...]
[Being that the three of them are trying to be somewhat nondescript, and not many people who aren’t diehard wrestling fans don’t already know who they are, the three of them manage to get a table fairly quickly and immediately as they get to their table, Ryan takes his seat with Sam on his left, and Ty on his right. He picks up the menu calmly and begins perusing the wares.]
Ry:
So, you two were about to try to hard sell me on this entire idea. So fill me in with what I need to know.
Ty:
A’ight, I mean, look, uh... Money, Bitches, and Titles?
[Ty looks to his cousin, he shrugs. A master negotiator this one is.]
Ty:
Yeah.
Sam:
Man, you choked.
Ry:
He choked harder than Tori Lane trying to deepthroat that 3 foot long dildo that one time...
Ty:
I... yeah. Fail.
[Dejected, Ty pulls up a menu to hide from his shame.]
Sam:
A’ight Ry, listen. I know you got the money, and you can get the bitches whenever you want, to help my cuz out here with his mistake by the way. But man you really need to get out the house more often. Seriously Manny is gonna tell you to stop comin’ by the gym if you keep beating those poor kids down like you have been. And think man, it’ll be just like old times.
Ry:
You run I block? And then I get shot off a motorcycle at high speed by some psycho ass motherfucker with a .50 cal? No thanks.
Sam:
Nah man, we roll up in this piece, in force, with my cuz here as part of the crew. We take shit over, and we generally have fun just like back in the day. You know, walkin’ the streets, fuckin’ with the living...
Ry:
That SOUNDS all well and good Sam, but I heard you guys say some shit about Eric Dane running this place. What the fuck good is that gonna do us when we know he’ll probably just look to bury the fuck outta anything I have to do with and laugh at us?
[Setting his menu down, apparently having gotten over his lack of ability in the gift for gab, Ty chimes back in upon the mention of Eric Dane and all that goes with the man and his history with one, Ryan Matthews.]
Ty:
What? Nah man, Eric’s a’ight nowadays, I mean, he’s still the insufferable bastard that everyone knows an’ loves, but he’s also got his priorities lined up much differently now that he’s the boss.
[Matthews with the ho-hum shrug, not entirely convinced... yet.]
Ty:
Look, dude, I get it. I get that you got these reservations an’ shit, but I’m tellin’ ya, the only thing that matters to D’ is DEFIANCE’s bottom line, y’know? It’s like this, Ry, DEFIANCE has mothafuckas that range from tolerably allowed to live and mind numbingly irritating on Dane’s murderous scale of humanity...
[Pause for oxygen.]
Ty:
...and trust me, I been on every scale of that nigga’s shitlist over the years, yet, here I am, allowed to play in his sandbox again. So, basically dude, it’s all about what’s good for DEFIANCE an’ everything else is doable if you’re what’s good for DEFIANCE. Hell, nigga, look at it this way, you take two parts Cheap Heat an’ add one half Team Danger, mix that shit up into a goddamn trios team, the only question you need to ask is this...
[Another pause. Partly for breath, partly for dramatization up in this here bitch.]
Ty:
How in the HALE are we NOT gonna make this anything but mothafuckin’ awesome? Sheeeit, drawin’ tickets an’ puttin’ asses into seats is gonna be the least of our worries, ‘cause our only objective is to walk up into this mothafucka an’ swipe the trios belts for all them lulz.
[Matthews nods, his resistance begins to crumble.]
Ry:
So rather than have a proper tag division they have six man titles? Or Trios as they call them. Sounds fun. But seriously, what all am I getting in this deal aside from an outlet?
Sam:
That’s just it Ry, that’s what you NEED, that you’re not getting right now. And think about it man, you, me and my cuz here get to mess with people, travel around the country and get paid to do it. What better job can you think of?
Ry:
Well...
[Cue needle scratch here as Sam smacks Ryan across the face before he can fade us into a daydream sequence.]
Sam:
No. I’ve told you about doing that shit Ryan. Don’t ever take us into some kinda fucked up daydream without our permission. Even if it did include you being the warm up guy for Claire Dames, Jenna Haze, Bree Olsen, Tori Black, Tori Lane AND Jasmine Byrne one after the other because dammit dude, I do NOT want to see you naked, despite what you think to the contrary.
Ty:
Uh... Pause? Timeout. Hiyo. What the fuck?
[Exactly.]
Sam:
Ryan likes to do what they call in the entertainment business [makes air quotes] “breaking the fourth wall”.
Ty: [Nodding.]
Right on, I’m gettin’ all’a that. I just meant that was some totally randomized what the fuckery going on there. Also, Tori Black?
[Reaching over, Ty bumps fists with Ryan.]
Ry:
Figured you’d appreciate at least SOME of my taste in women.
Ty:
Indeed, gotta love them white girls who love them some of that...
[Sam joins in unison with Ty.]
Ty/Sam:
Hawt, chow-kuh-lit, saawuse!
Ry:
...and holy shit, look at the rack on that!
[Just then a woman who is very AMPLY endowed walks past the table and hears Ryan, scoffing in horror before throwing her drink on him.]
Ry: [drying himself off]
Well this night just went from suck to blow...SECURITY!
[A large black man in a suit grabs the AMPLY endowed chick by her face and drags her quickly off screen accompanied by an AAAAAHHHHHH!!!! sound effect.]
Ty: [stunned by the sudden turn of events]
Well, that’s the first time I’ve EVER seen this situation play out like that... an’ I’ve been thrown outta many a joint.
Sam:
Just part of the way things go when Ryan is around my nigga, just the way these things go.
Ry:
Look just because our lives are full of television tropes and funny shit of the like, does not mean we can’t have a peaceful night out. OTHER people are what fuck that up Sam, you should know that by now.
[Breaking away from the impromptu segway, Sam steers things back to the point.]
Sam:
Look Ry, can we get to the point here mang?
[See?]
Ry:
Which was? Oh right, you two were trying to sell me on being in a promotion where it’s possible I might become Eric Dane’s bitch and I was resisting, to a point.
Ty:
Right an’ I get all’a that, dude. But, it’s like I was sayin’ before, can D’ be a miserable sumbitch even on a good day? Yeah, sure, but he’s consistent about it an’ he’s like that to everybody runnin’ around his joint, y’know?
Sam:
Yeah Ry, bygones should be bygones already man. It’s in the past.
Ry:
I know that Sam, for me especially. Then again at the moment so is my wrestling career.
Sam:
Nah man, that shit ain’t in the past, you’re still present tense my dude. All you need to do is get your mind right and we good.
Ry:
Who says I’m not in my right mind?
Sam:
Ry, when have you EVER been in your right mind? Ty, remind me to tell you about the time this mothafucka over here got split into four copies of himself...
[Ty nods, apparently making a mental note of that...]
Ry:
Okay okay I get the point. So if the money’s good and everything else you mentioned is on the up and up, what is the downside, because there always is one...And by all means if you can figure out some way for us to settle this “issue” I seem to have with who my boss MIGHT be, feel free to propose that as well...
Ty:
A’ight, I got this, hol’ on...
[Reaching into his left pocket, Ty pulls out his cell.]
Sam:
What?
Ty:
I’mma buzz D’ an’ see about a horse or something.
[Uh. What? Clicking away at his phone. He narrates his messages to his compatriots at the table.]
Ty: [phone]
Yo, nigga.
(Dane) - “Sup, cracka?”
Ty: [phone]
I’m out here with Ryan Matthews and my cuz, Sam Horry.
(Dane) - “What?”
Ty: [phone]
What?
(Dane) - “What about it?”
Ty: [phone]
Remember when you called Matthews, Double Crown at best?
[As Ty hears Matthews clear his throat, he realizes then he was just narrating his text message out loud...]
Ty: [to Ryan]
Oh, right. Sorry ‘bout that, dude.
(Dane) - “What about it? Wait... Are those the guys you mentioned?”
Ty: [phone]
Yeah.
(Dane) - “Like I said. What. About. It?”
Ty: [phone]
Ry’s got concerns about old stuff.
(Dane) - “Didn’t he win the World title?”
Ty: [phone]
Yeah?
(Dane) - “Then what’s his problem?”
Ty: [phone]
Uh... I think he wants to know stuff or something.
(Dane) - “...that fucking helps a lot, only not at all.”
[Awkward silence.]
(Dane) - “If they want to join, the doors open. If he’s stuck on some shit that I said 10 years ago, let him know that while I have no time for people to be wasting, If it’ll make him feel fucking better about getting in here so we can all make some money, he can come meet me face to face and we’ll set shit straight. Aside from that, I have no time for bullshit.”
Ry:
Fair enough...I’m in...
[As Ryan goes to say something else, a beat that is somewhat familiar to him starts from the jukebox. Ryan turns his head, then grabs his phone and with a couple quick presses, he holds the phone up in the direction of the jukebox.]
Sam:
Ry, what the hell...?
Ry: [holds up a hand toward Sam]
Shh...give it a minute...
[After a minute of listening to the song, Matthews looks at his phone, then smiles and turns to the two with him.]
Ry:
Now that...that works.
Sam:
Okay Ry, you gonna tell us what that was about?
Ry:
Just finding us our theme song.
[With that, Ryan places his phone on the table and the words on the screen, as brought to you by the Soundhound app read as follows: “Stroke Me” by Mickey Avalon.]
[We flash forward to DEFTV38.]
[Sam, Ryan and Ty are walking through a backstage area and stopping in front of a door with the name ERIC DANE across the nameplate. It’s Sam who speaks first this time as he turns to the camera...]
Sam:
And that, kids, is how this entire fucked up joyride got started. But I just have one question Ry...
Ry: [sighs]
What is it Sam?
Sam:
Why the hell did I get no more than a bit part in this flashback? That’s racist brother...
[And cut...]