3 Hours Ago.

 

 

[There’s something of a lost art to this...]

 

[At least from where Hookers N Blow, Cheap Heat, or whatever you wish to call them are concerned...]

 

[Well, that is, until you actually get at least two of them in front of a camera...]

 

[Ladies and gentlemen, the following is going to be an episode with a bunch of talking done by two thirds of the triumvirate known simply as...]

 

Ry and Sam:

Hookers n BLOOOOOOOWWWW!

 

[Yes folks, Ryan Matthews and Sam Horry, this time shown in a simple, small room with a backdrop of sorts reminiscent of old school 1980’s WWE and WCW backstage sets. Because these two are nothing if not old school.]

 

[Yes, insert verbal eyeroll here...]

 

Ry:

Hey Mr. Narrator! Get your shit together or we’ll find someone to replace you!

 

[We finally get the camera focused on Ryan Matthews, dressed in a simple pair of blue jeans and a light blue “Sheen/Lohan 2016: Hookers n Blow for Everyone” campaign style t-shirt, seated in a simple folding chair on the left side of the screen. To HIS left, the viewer’s right, is Sam Horry, Matthews’ long time partner in crime and tag team partner in the wrestling business the world over. Dressed in a black “Don’t be a Richard” Shirt and black jeans with a pair of Timberland boots on his feet.]

 

Sam:

Yo Ry, you good? You got this? I’m starvin’ yo.

 

Ry:

We haven’t even started the talking and insulting people yet and you’ve already worked up an appetite?

 

Sam: [standing up from his chair]

Yup, gotta keep fuel in the engine, brother.

 

Ry: [rolls his eyes]

Alright whatever just don’t...

 

[We immediately see Sam pass between Ryan and the camera, temporarily blacking out our entire shot...see what I did there?]

 

Sam: [Stops and points at the camera when we can see him.]

That’s racist, brother.

 

Ry: [Facepalm and heavy sigh]

...walk in FRONT of the camera while it’s rolling.

 

[With that, we hear Sam walking down a hallway and hear a refrigerator door open.]

 

Ry: [Looking off camera]

By the way motherfucker, don’t touch those Brownies in the fridge!  My mom baked those specifically for me.

 

Sam: [Somewhat faint, down the hall]

Oh shit. Ma Dukes baked brownies? I’ve been hearin about these forever Ry, c’mon man lemme get a couple.

 

Ry:

Lemme rephrase that, if you so much as touch them brownies, I will shove my fist so far down your throat that I’ll be able to pull out what you had for breakfast yesterday out and feed it to you again.

 

Sam:

The fuck, Ry?  There's literally 3 huge batches in there...

 

Ry:

Yeah, and I’m talking about feeding you your own shit.  So the question is: Are they worth that much to you...

 

[At that point, Sam miraculously returns, crossing in front of the camera AGAIN blocking our line of sight, before taking a seat with a plate on his lap with a HUGE Swiss and Turkey sandwich on rye bread on it, he also gingerly sets down a bottle of water next to his chair before pointing a finger at Ryan.]

 

Sam:

So your people can call my people 'Brownies' for years, but when the black man actually wants to partake in havin' an actual Brownie he's denied?  That's racist, brother.

 

Ry:

Whatever. [sighs and turns to the camera] Anyway, this is supposed to be the part where we talk about our opponents in this match we have coming up at ASCENSION and...

 

[Ryan is then interrupted by the sounds of satisfaction coming from Sam as he takes a huge bite out of the sandwich and begins chewing. He looks at Sam, somewhat irritated.]

 

Sam: [stops chewing and gets a quizzical look on his face]

What? It’s a good sandwich! I’d have gotten you one but I didn’t know if you wanted some sandwich with your mayonnaise or vice versa. So sue me!

 

Ry: [sighs and shakes his head then looks back to the camera]

...in any event, it’s been a long time since we’ve actually done one of these. Most of the time we just have some weird camera guys following us around videotaping the shenanigans we get into...

 

Sam:

Which in turn does connect with the fans most of the time...But Ry, you gotta admit that those guys following us around is kinda creepy sometimes...makes you wonder what the hell they have taped that we don’t know about...

 

Ry:

Immaterial. We’ve got a people that need insulting, act accordingly.

 

Sam:

Right...

 

Ry:

This match coming up is for us to get our “big break” if you will. Some would say it might be undeserved since we as a team, including Ty that is, have had exactly ONE match. Well after this we’ll have TWO, and both will be wins. So we’ll be an undefeated trios team looking for our first crack at the titles.

 

Sam:

HIYO!

 

Ry:

But first, and I think I kinda sound like a much more assholian version of Billy Mayes when I say that, we have to go into ASCENSION in New Orleans and kick the asses of two OTHER teams in a three way tag match. I think the preview on the DEFIANCE website said something about this match making no sense or whatever. Here’s a hint to the douchewad who wrote that up, this match makes sense because Hookers and Blow, the team of myself, Sam and Tyrone Walker, are going to basically carve a path through this bitch like it’s a Thanksgiving turkey. It’s all already written in the stars if you will, the destiny of Hookers and Blow...your FUTURE DEFIANCE Trios champions.

 

Sam:

Yeah, and to be honest with you all out there, you can’t fight manifest destiny.

 

Ry:

We already did that, back in the day, I believe you slapped somebody with a fish that day didn’t you Sam?

 

Sam:

PB still has bounty on my head for that, but I'ma g, so I don't sweat that.

 

Ry: [mutters]

Yeah good one, Diet Evil.

 

Sam:

What was that?

 

Ry:

Nothing, nothing.

 

Sam:

Thought so. At any rate, you cats need to realize that when it comes to getting into the ring with a well oiled machine of destruction that myself and my main mans here represent, that the best idea sometimes is to just lay down flat on the ground and just let it happen.

 

Ry:

Sounds like you’ve said that a time or two before Sam...HIYO!

 

Sam:

Shut up Ry. The point is, we know whats really good, and we know who the haves and have nots are in this match.

 

Ry:

When it comes to talent we’re the haves...and you can figure out the rest I’m sure. Unless you’re a have not in the brain category too...

 

Sam:

Exactly Ry. 

 

Ry:

You know what? While you do this, since you seem to be on a roll, I’m gonna go get something to eat myself. I’ll be right back.

 

Sam:

Hey Ry real quick before you go, who are we even facing again?

 

Ry:

Two of the guys we’re facing are the Moral Majority, basically I call em Triple B.

 

Sam:

Triple B?

 

Ry:

Bronson Box’s Bitches.

 

Sam:

Good call Ry. What about the other two?

 

Ry:

Two guys who pissed off Alceo Dentari by being the reason he doesn’t have one third of the Trios titles anymore. His boys the Gorillas.

 

Sam:

Ah ok...so basically we have a team that’s like us and trying to make a name for themselves, and a team that had the belts but wants to get em back. Sounds like fun. Good lookin Ry, go get yourself somethin to eat my dude. I got this.

 

[With that, Ryan gets up from his chair and exits stage left, leaving Sam looking at the camera, with the plate still on his lap, but only a couple more bites left in the sandwich.]

 

Sam:

A’ight everybody it’s time for real talk with Sam. Listen up and listen good fellas, I don’t give a FUCK what ya’ll think you got as far as chances against us. We ain’t slouches, we ain’t rookies, and we damn sure ain’t gonna lay down and stare at the lights while you get the three count. Shit is NOT happening that way, ya heard me? Underestimate us all you like, we actually prefer it that way, then when you get beat you can make excuses just like e’erbody else does when we leave ‘em layin’...It’s a simple setup, Total Elimination, 1...2...3 and when you come to, you get to ask yourself that one simple question...

 

Ry: [from off camera, but nearby]

What the fuck just happened?

 

[Ryan re-enters the picture stage left with a two-liter of pepsi and a large bowl of brownies, which prompts Sam to scowl at him for a second.]

 

Sam:

And honestly ya’ll, there’s gonna be some people coming to grips with a reality check bouncing at ASCENSION. Gorillas, your time has come and gone, step aside or we run yo’ asses down. Moral Majority, you two need to realize that without the guys at the top of your own little food chain, you are nothing. And when it’s all said and done fellas, your dreams of being at the top of the mountain anytime soon are gonna be just like what’s left of this sandwich...

 

[With that, Sam picks up what’s left and pops it into his mouth, chewing for a few before taking a drink of water to wash it all down.]

 

Sam:

Gone in the blink of an eye.

 

[Ryan gently sets the plate of brownies down and folds his hands in front of him, looking at the floor for a minute and contemplating what to say...]

 

Ry:

You know, I used to be good at this sort of thing, I could get in front of the camera and just trash talk until I was blue in the face about my opponent or opponents and it would all end up all good one way or the other. Now...frankly put I don’t see any other way that this COULD end aside from us ending up with our hands raised. Both us, and our boy Ty. I could do a lot of things right now, like look ahead to us facing...who was it that holds the Trios titles right now Sam?

 

Sam:

Doesn’t matter right now Ry, we got these guys in front of us.

 

Ry:

That’s exactly right it doesn’t matter. I’m looking forward to getting back out there under the bright lights, on the big stage, ready to up and crush somebody else’s dreams as the expense account for our trip down the road of destiny. If you guys don’t think we know about the infighting between you, James and Quell, you’re wrong. We’re born tacticians, both of us, and we’ll use that, don’t you worry. And Gorillas, bring all the fire, and fury you probably have stored up from that sting of loss, bring it all. None of it will matter, none of it will be enough. When the last bell rings and we are announced as the winners, you will know that when you play with fire, be it from Cheap Heat or anywhere else, you will get burned.

 

Sam:

Well said Ry, well said.

 

[With that, the camera cuts out...]

 

 

"You know what Ry, I'm thinkin'..." 

 

 

"...Aight cool, I'll call an ambulance right away."  Ryan deadpanned.

 

 

"Yeah, real funny."  Sam rolled his eyes.  "Anyway, I'm thinkin' that we should have some insurance going into this match."

 

 

"I thought Jeanie had us covered by State Farm already."  Ryan ate another brownie.

 

"Yo, you're on fire tonight, ain't you?"  Sam clapped sarcastically.  "I'm talkin' insurance of a political kind.  An 'Only Star' kind of insurance."

 

 

"You mean Eric Dane?"

 

 

"Yeah I had Jeanie set up a suite at that hotel past Tilden St. I think its a five star.  I'm gonna hit up the club, hook him up with a fly cougar type chick, and get in his good graces."  Sam nodded.  "This way at least if we get shafted or anything, we won't be too far outta title contention, know what I'm sayin'?  And because of the PPV, the room is on Defiance."

 

 

Ryan got up, shaking his head.  "You and Jeanie are on your own with this project.  I'm heading back to the hotel.  Leave the brownies alone."

 

 

With Ryan now gone, Sam looked towards the refridgerator.

 

 

"Brownies."  He said with his eyes growing wide.  "Laissez Les Bon Temps Rouler!"

 

 

Sam tore into the batch of brownies, with a ravenous vigor.

 

 

Little did he know, those brownies were laced.

 

 

 

The exciting conclusion....next.