Skrabal pushes a raven haired women's head from his lap as he leans forward and picks up his vibrating phone from the worn surface of the table in front of him. Looking at the screen he sees a message from his friend and fellow Toll Gang member, Ty.
U good bredda?
Yes fam, u?
💯 Chris want you to do BRW again. U down?
Always Tell him I'll come through
He wanna do it online
Tell him I'll come through Sort the plane
Aight I'mma pay the smoking fine upfront
Seen Tell em no Sofia this time
Aight See you soon
Skrabal puts his phone down and picks up a joint from the table. He puts it in his mouth and litghts it.
"'Ight then carry on" He says as the raven haired woman moves back into her previous position.
July 17th 12:00AM GMT
The second hour of the BRW podcast begins, streaming live from the BRW studio in Stratford, London, as Chris Grant welcomes his guest special guest.
"It's midnight, so it's that time of the night where we introduce our guest and as you all know we've got a long time friend of the show with us tonight. He's the reason most of you are listening live instead of on catch up, he's a an underground legend in the UK scene, a Mile High Wrestling Hall Of Famer, a former Mile High Wrestling Ultimate and Phoenix Champion, representing Toll Gang, Skrabal Stanzas!"
"Sup fam, it's good to be back."
"It's good to have you."
"I swear down the introduction get better e'ry time. Ya think I need it?"
"You earned it."
"Aight that's enough now fam."
Chris hesitates before continuing and sips his water.
"So, lots to talk about but first off, I take it you watched the final?"
"Yeah, I seen bits of it. I kinda had my own three girls one European Cup situation, ya feel me? But that shit too funny."
"Yeah, funny... Ya nah they shoulda put me on. I woulda scored all five a them there penalties, standard!"
"I can brudda, I woulda saved all five too, ya done know!"
Chris laughs before taking another sip of his water.
"The last time we had you on the show was all the way back in January last year. At that time you were the undisputed top dog in Mile High, having lengthy reigns with the Ultimate and Phoenix titles and seeing off anyone that came your way with. A lot has changed since then..."
"Not really fam. Only ting changed is I ain't got the strap."
"Indeed, tell me Skrabz, how does it feel knowing that Leah Aguero is holding a title that you never lost?"
"Feels like a fuckery to be real witchu but the bidness been built on 'em."
"And of course, "The War Queen" will defend her title, for the first time, against someone you've already crossed paths with on more than one occasion in Eavan Maloney. It must be frustrating to see people you have already dispatched receiving opportunities that surely should be coming to you."
"More fuckeries innit, like I said the bidness been built on 'em and tickets been sold on 'em but I'm glad ya brought Lil Miss Parody up. I was waitin' for her to make me look a milyun bucks fam but I guess she ain't chose to do it. Instead she look like a pilion duck, coz she do all that quackin' from the back seat while Bullet handle the ride, ya get me?"
"You're talking about the tag match that saw you team up with Leah Aguero to take on Eavan Maloney and Bullet, correct?"
"Ya done know."
"And of course that match ended with you taking Eavan out with a Mic Check and Leah Aguro snatching the pin..."
"Another fuckery innit, you see what I mean fam? The bidness built on 'em. They ain't end there either."
"I was just about to say, immediately after that match you were attacked and, dare I say, dominated, by Gabriel Ohio."
"But you'll get a chance to gain a measure of revenge when you take him on in a No Hold Barred Match at Mile High Spectacular Three. On that same show, Eavan Maloney has her shot at Leah Aguero's Ultimate Title. Tell me Skrabz, who do you see walkin' out of that match as champion?"
"Neither of 'em, coz I ain't see a champion walkin' into it. One of 'em walkin' in wit the big strap and one of 'em gonna walk out wit it' but that be all there is to the shit."
"Okay, so lets roll it back a bit now and talk about season three of Mile High Wrestling. We've seen some familiar faces return but also the arrival and emergence of some new stars. Tell me Skrabz, which of them stands out the most to you."
"El Diablo innit."
"Yes, his rise to fan favourite was instantaneous and truly something to watch."
"Nah fam, I be talkin' 'bout that phoenix ting he carryin' around. He stand out to me coz he another poser walkin' around carryin' a strap that I ain't lose. To be real witchu he make me sick and I'm a tell ya one ting fam, anybody who that positive jus' ain't to be trusted. He prolly into some real sick shit too, I mean he wear a mask e'ry he go so what that tell you?"
"For the last year and more we all do.."
"Fam shut up that shit, I already done told you."
"Skrabz, he's the leader of the Diablo Nation, a role model to children everywhere and a product of his own drive and determination. I would have thought you could respect that?"
"Oh you see the grind in him? Is that it?."
"I just thought, given that he pulled himself up from the backyards and you dragged yourself up from the street that you cou..."
"Fam he was a grown man wrestlin' in a garden. A fuckin' garden. At that point you jus' playin' pretend on a homemade cosplay vibe."
"None the less, he is the Phoenix Champion and will defend his title against Bullet at Mile high Spectacular three. Who do you see walking out of that match with the gold."
"Fam if Bullet ain't walk out wit' the strap after all these chances she had..."
"You feel it's make or break time for her?"
"Fam that gyals shit already been broke, this her final chance to start fixin' if you ask me."
"I'm sure many would disagree with you on that. Bullet has proved herself and her worth many times before. However it's time for a track now that you selected, it's Blak Twang with 'So Rotton', why did you pick this one?"
"I jus' like the song fam, it's nuttin' deep. Man's a legend though, big up Tony Rotton."
"Indeed. An' when we come back we'll be talkin' about your connection to the UK hip hop, who you're currently feeling in the scene, and hopefully we'll touch on that project that you were working on early last that never saw the light of day."
"Nah, we won't be doin' that fam."
Skrabal and Chris laugh as "So Rotton" by Blak Twang starts to play.
Skrabal's Motel Room
July 25th 2021
Skrabal relaxes on the brown sofa in his motel room. Smoke drifts from a joint held between his lips as he leans back with his hands clasped behind his head and his gaze set on the ceiling.
"Ya know, I be gettin' real tireda this disrespect."
He unclasps his hands and takes the joint from his mouth.
"From the Bossman sayin' he ain't want me back to e'ryone else talkin' about what they'd do to me if I came back... Nuttin' but disrespect... It ain't start there though, nah, it been a constant ting since Ricky Stanton popped off at the finger tips about me an' the big strap. Ever since then, nuttin' but disrespect. It continue still, look at Stephanie Sullivan... First of all she ain't got no respect for the grind, nah, she'd rather open her legs then use 'em to climb herself up and second of all, an' this might make ya sick, but she ain't even have the respect to take man like Skrabz seriously. She walked in wit' no prep thinkin' she got what it takes to do what only two other people done before... It ain't work out too well for her though, nah."
He takes a deep, slow draw on his joint, his gaze still on the ceiling.
"But hold up, lemme me skip back in time a while to June Thirteenth, man like Skrabz, The Big Dondada went one on wit' the Bossman right there in that Magness arena... And soon as I got done whoppin' his backside all over Denver what steps its way into the ring other than another big ol' pile a disrespect... Gabriel Ohio...Don't get it twisted fam, I ain't complainin' about it, coz shit I ain't ever had respect for a single one of 'em. Plus I got my own respect an' that's all that count anyway. But they out here givin' each other props for playin' they role despite the fact that man like Skrabz'll steal any scene he enter, but then I ain't an actor fam so I ain't really need the props anyway. I jus' question they logic an' they upringin', coz I was taught give respect when an' where it's due an' they ain't earned none, so they ain't get none. Man like Skrabz be a lil' dif'rent though, ya feel me? He be respect earned personified, live in the flesh. If ya can't respect that grind then you raised wrong fam. But shit, it already be clear ain't none of 'em got respect for the work so ain't no surprise they ain't got respect for someone who work his way to the top."
He moves to the edge of his seat and takes a bottle of beer from the table in front of him.
"Ya nah, besides the disrespect there be another ting that be gettin' real tiresome"
He takes a drink from the bottle.
"You wanna know what it is?"
He takes another drink from the bottle.
"I'm a tell ya, one time, on the level."
He finishes his beer and drops the empty bottle on the floor.
"I be sick to fuckin' death a these ol' washed up, worn out Haitch Cee Dub nobodies comin' to Mi High actin' like they got what it take to step to man like Skrabz... Who it gonna be nex'? Wouldn't surprise me if Bossman hittin' Taurus up as I speak... For real they shoulda done learned by the example Sam Hamilton set for 'em, coz she had roots there too, but nah they ain't learn from that. Had to come find out by they own selves... First it was ol' what's his name, shit I really shoulda remembered by now fam, it's been months... But he came in way back wit' his lil runnin' buddy Lance Mikes and soon found out that his days spent workin' for Greeney ain't worth shit when he ain't workin' for Greeney no more. He came in an' found out wit' the quickness that tings done dif'rent round here. Lance Mikes found out too, only he a lil dif'rent than the rest, he still got at least half the brain he been born wit coz he seen his name next to mine and he go missin', ain't been seen since."
He laughs arrogantly and shakes his head.
"An' that bring us to Gabriel Ohio innit, coz his name might mean Trauma to the rest of ya but to man like Skrabz he jus' another one a these Haitch Cee Dub wasteman that ain't amount to his old hype once he step foot in Denver. Oh he came in wit' a rep, then had to try rebuild it once Psycho kicked the shit to dust. You gonna say he did that, right? He rebuilt his rep an' he a man to be feared, right? You gonna say he got acid thrown in his face and he still came back, right?"
He shakes his head again.
"Fam how the fuck do you get acid thrown in ya face in the first place?"
He pauses as if waiting for an answer then puffs on his joint.
"But true say he had a chance to prove himself before innit, back when had himself the right to a shot at any strap he wanted... I had two for him to chose from and he ain't pick one of 'em, coz he knew then jus' like he know now that despite his size advantage his name an' frame ain't hold weight nex' to mine. True say I set my level high above 'em all from the day I walked in the door, an' he set his at small strap levels. I told 'em all before to play position they position an' stay in they lane but to be real witchu when they do it it kinda make me sick. Fam I can barely look myself in the mirror coz I ain't have the strap an' that shit was took from me, I can't imagine how it feel to see yaself e'ry day an' know you never took ya shot when you had it..."
He laughs slightly, arrogantly, then looks directly at the camera and shakes his head.
"But still word is he the Devil in the flesh, they say he 'bout to to be my biggest test, coz it be no holds barred an' man like Skrabz ain't been known to get down in that situation. Ohio famous for it though, chairs, tables, acid... hooks... Yeah hooks fam, fuckin' hooks an' acid blad can ya believe it? That's his forte right? That's what they said fam, that or his foreplay I ain't quite listen to 'em to be real witchu but either way he enjoy the shit. I ain't even opposed to violence fam, shit you can't be where I come from, for real. I jus' wonder what the fuck ever happen to standing in front of a man an' punchin' him in the face... Coz if man like Skrabz got a prollem witchu I'mma stand in that ring an' call you out an' you know that shit true. You already done seen an' heard me do it..."
He looks directly at the camera, a smug confidence radiating from him.
"I guess that jus' be the dif'rence between official art an' the artificial, ya get me? "
An arrogant laugh passes his lips.
"Coz you ain't do that, nah, big bad man like you on that attack a man post match vibe like ol' what's is name, must be the Haitch Cee Dub in ya, you all the same fam I already done said it... Oh but they say that ain't whatchu did the first time, they tell me I struck first wit that Mic Check so I brought all this pon myself. Well I'mma tell ya one time an' one time only, it ain't matter if it's post match, pre match or while they puttin the ting together, if you step in that ring while I'm in it I'mma take it as you spittin in my face..."
He sets his eyes on the camera.
"An' I ain't like it when people spit in my face fam."
He averts his gaze and takes another toke on his joint.
"But shit, no holds barred... I guess I be outta my element innit, yeah the cards be stacked against me for real... Nah, bun that!... It ain't a ting fam. From day one I told it 'em it ain't matter if it's in the ring, in the back or in the street... If you want that heat come see this vet coz I'm wit all the smoke like a weed connec', plus I got that sea cadet vibe, I be trained for any wave, ya feel me? "
He leans forwards and takes another bottle of beer from the table and twists the top off.
"Point is I ain't ever outta my element an' if you got a prollem we can solve it any time ya want. Name the time an' place an' man like Skrabz'll show up a day early jus' to wait for ya. Don't matter who you are who where ya from fam for real. I ain't backed down from man or woman yet coz I sooner die fightin' than run from a threat... But fam that drive take a lot of feedin' an' I be real hungry. I be wastin' away out here, famished innit. Coz these clowns on a Ronald McDonald vibe, ain't feedin' me nutiin' but junk food since I come back... Worst ting is ain't been a happy meal among 'em, no prize in the box yet jus' a whole heapa jacks jumpin' out so soft ya'd think they spring broke."
He takes a drink of beer followed by a few deep tokes on his joint.
"Oh but Ohio dif'rent right? He put me through a table innit, laid me out like never before... Is that supposed to mean suttin'? Don't get it wrong I felt the shit, but so what fam? Jansen Myrrh hurt me too, she had me tappin' the mat like an epileptic but when that bell rung shit went real dif'rent. An' when the bell rings in that Ball Arena tings gonna go real dif'rent once again, or they gonna go the same fam I guess it depend on how you look at the shit. Coz I told 'em an' showed 'em all time an' again that the top spot got my name on it."
He pauses and takes another draw on his joint.
"Yeah, an' once I get done wit' Ohio I got my eyes fixed firmly on who ever walkin' out wit the big strap. No more bullshit or distractions, I'm dead set an' ready to take back what's mine an' ain't nuttin' or nobody here to stop me."
His confident glare settles on the camera.
"It's big Skrabz fam ya better pray for help... So dope I broke the mould when I made myself""
He laughs loud, arrogantly, then leans forward and swipes at his phone, ending the video.
Post by Gabriel Ohio on Jul 24, 2021 14:43:08 GMT -6
The embers of the Phoenix that is Gabriel Ohio, rose once more from the ashes from which he was last burned. Once again, it’s heartbeat can be felt once more as the beast calls to us. Yes, it calls us, one at a time. And yes…I used the word “It” deliberately. Once the hand of the demon grips your soul there will be no escape. Like zombies, commanded to return to the battleground by the insanity of the Liche that binds them. Please settle yourselves down by the fire, let this bard tell you his tale. A tale of wonder, evil and carnage. Put yer young ‘uns to bed for this tale if not to be heard by the ears of the innocent, for there be nightmares born if they hear but a word of it. For those who dare to listen, I fare thee fair warning, his name will be whispered among the shadows once more. Some things are better left buried and forgotten…
Darkness. Dark. Drip drip drip. The sound of leaky pipes gently kiss the eardrum. The darkness is briefly repelled as a light bulb allows but a brief moment of respite with a flicker. Then it is back. Darkness. The eyes begin to adjust. A flickering shadow catches the eye, was that a figure? Or are the depths of this building’s bowels starting to play tricks on you. No matter. The light flickers once more and then fights back as the bulb begins to win the battle, offering a less than satisfactory illumination but comforting nonetheless. The walls drip with damp and mould is running wild. The footsteps echo and dread plays and tugs on the heart strings like a musician with a harp. The door at the end of the corridor is prominent. Thick and well set. Whatever lies beyond that door was not getting out anytime soon. Did you hear that? That rattle. It is coming from that door…or more specifically...behind that door. Drawn to the noise like a curious child the door is within reach...it opens on its own accord. In the centre of the revealed room, it sits, bound to a chair by manacles and chains. “It” is looking at the floor, we see the top of “it’s” head and the hair is overgrown and hanging down. “It’s” muscular physique has been through the wars and the scars dominate the flesh. “It’s” hands hold the ends of the chair arms and slowly the fingers draw back forming fists instead.
“It” is clearly a male. A very tall male.
Slowly the head lifts up and reveals the face. Old burns scar one side of his face, the eyes are that of the black abyss that look like their stare right into your soul. The smile! Oh that smile! Combined with the wide eyes, the stare and smile cause shivers, a feeling of the end. In the blink of an eye. The manacles open. They fall to the ground and the chains along with them. He is free. He stands. Slowly. The face and expression are unchanging and unnerving. As quick as a blink of an eye he dashes towards, not running, hovering! Forced by an unseen force. Hands outstretched reaching for the throat. … … A blinding white light! … … The image slowly adjusts, still blurry, The shot imitates a blinking eye from a first person perspective but the image is still blurry, slow to adjust.
“We are so happy to have you back, you are a difficult man to find. Welcome back to Mile High Wrestling!”
The third person perspective is still blurry but the room resembles an office and an unknown person behind a desk. The view changes. There was the same man from the basement of that weird building fully clothed. Sitting in front of the desk, that same face, slowly grinning that haunting grin and distant look, only this time in some sort of office. On the desk? A contract. Signed.
Then we see the figure again standing in the room with the chair. It is writing on the walls using his own blood as the ink:
Trauma….never truly heals…
Gabriel holds onto the side of the sink. His eyes closed, the sink void of water, the mirror reveals his lack of facial expression. Blank. The poor lighting of the room is highlighted by the poor safety as the light is not designed for a bathroom and the mold is devouring the walls at a rapid pace, the windows whistle with each breath of the wind, that eerie sound echoes as the frames are rotten, the glass cracked and the holes within the pane allow the rain access to this sad sad place. Ohio reaches slowly with his right hand and turns the faucet, the pipes groan as the brown water flows into the basin, eventually clearing somewhat and Ohio reaches down, pooling the water in his cupped palm and splashes his face, the icy liquid fails to fracture his stoic expression. Without turning or standing straight, Ohio speaks.
“Isn't fate such a wonderful thing?! It has an impact on us all, maybe not all the time, but it still pulls the strings, the evil puppet master. Some accept it into their hearts for all eternity, while others dismiss its impact, until the time comes they question their own mortality. Sometimes fate is a convenience. An excuse for some to explain their misfortune. A rope to tug on to explain that why oh why does the lord forsake me?! Fate. The universe is a book for which we all live our lives as it is scripted. A play written by the play-write, the panto-mine acted to please the eternal beings we call gods, demons and saints. Fate. ... The ultimate fairy tale. Mankind is nothing more than a spoke on the wheel and we cannot comprehend the complexities that it encumbers, this world will live on when we are all long gone. Fate. We are arrogant to think we are the dominant species yet we fail to learn from our mistakes. For if we fail to learn from our failings then, we are doomed to repeat them.
But that is the key. Since the first writings were written, since Science learned of history, there is one common factor among it all. Everything repeats itself. A Circle. The snake is eating its own tail. That is true fate. The creator of heaven and soil and the invisible and the visible. And in his son, begotten of father by whom all things will be unmade. Fate.
Yet here we are. Going by day to day with the arrogance that the world belongs to us. We drain its life force without any mercy, Oh do not dare to challenge me to the contrary. All these charities, Green peace, Sky's Save the Oceans campaign, all puppets, a front. Save the coral! Save the marine life! Continue to preach to me while you consume that shark's fin soup.”
Gabriel spits into the basin, looks directly into the mirror and stares at himself.
“I pave the way to my future. You are welcome to follow my yellow brick road but I warn you that some of the bricks will be an odd red colour, as the blood of my enemies will be the adhesive that holds my road together. Yet on my journey, there is always a side turn that leads to Mile High Wrestling. There are always sounds from those side roads. Voices. Saying my name. I returned to Mile High Wrestling not because I was coveted to reclaim old stomping grounds but out of curiosity. Know what I found when I took one of those side road’s? The voices stopped. Silence. Where are they now?”
Ohio cups his ear in a mocking manner, before snarling and starts holding the sink again, his stare unbreaking upon his reflection.
“The silence is deafening around here but I know what is etched in the backs of their minds now. Did Ohio hear what I said? It was not just one of you that did it though. Not one but many. I heard everything. The kick that was heard around the world. The Shieldmaidens run their mouth but isn’t it interesting that they fail to mention the consequences that came because of that kick. Now. There will be consequences for their mockery. I had planned to start there but an opportunity presented itself. An opportunity too good to miss. Do you know why I chose you Skrabz? Do you have any idea?”
The hot water is steaming now and cousin the mirror to cloud but Ohio still doesn’t stop staring.
“January 19th. 2020. Do you remember?
That was the day you meddled in affairs that did not concern you. That is the day you left a mark on ‘him’ and he has itched and scratched everyday since. That is a demon that needs to be exorcised. The way to do that is let you feel how it feels. You are somewhat distracted right now, ain't you? I can see it. I can sense it. There is rot in your mind and it is killing you. It is killing you to see that you no longer sit on the throne in Mile High. It is cancer that has a vice-like grip on your soul. I am here to tighten the grip. While my former coven brethren sit atop of what was once yours, that means you are distracted at that will be the mistake that will lead to your demise. That is all it takes. One mistake. When Robert Mack opened the doors again he turned the page and ripped out the pages that meant so much to you, now he deprives you of what you desire most. You are the Leper of Mile High. It is such a shame that your fate was written as it was. We share similar traits. Similar hates and dislikes. In another life we could have brought this machine to the ground part by part, piece by piece. I see in your eyes what you crave and yet it evades you. You are still a puppet. You are still being manipulated. The establishment is writing your book and Mack is blemishing it. Now I am going to burn it all. Your legacy, your life, your hopes and dreams, will be the tinder on which I burn you to the ground. How far are you willing to go to get what you want? Mack has set the bout to be no holds barred. No rules. We both know this is an area we both thrive. It is not quite as brutal as Purgatory but it will serve its purpose. Your addiction to the poison that is the spotlight is feeble and pathetic. Your legacy is nothing but fertile ground and there are many using it to reap the rewards. The War Queen. Robert Mack and now I will plant and soon sow the seeds of torment. That poison you crave? When the light shines down it is the visual representation of all the abuse you have done to yourself. The alcohol you abuse, the substances you abuse and the woman you abuse. That spotlight is the biggest rush and your body craves it. How ironic. Even in your younger days you fought and scratched. Was it for recognition? Was it just to silence the doubt that ate at the cerebral cortex of your body? Behind this image you portray, there lies an itch that you cannot scratch, a rash that doesn’t go away, to this day it still bothers you. You want the next high. Like I say, how ironic, that despite your achievements you simply cannot conquer your own mind, your addictions. Slowly. Your own personal demons, they always win. Hell is a metaphor and is different for everyone. While The Shieldmaidens preach about Hell being empty, but all they have found is one of the many branches and you currently have one inside of you. Sometimes the things in our heads are far worse than anything they could put in books or on film, but demons are like devoted dogs, they come when they are called. But Do you know what the biggest poison in Mile High is? It is you Skrabz. You could have been the role model for that child in the front row. A man that escaped his darkness, you could have been the champion of the people. But no. You chose to live in a cesspit and write rhymes. You couldn’t handle being a champion of the people and do you know why? It is simple. You cannot handle responsibility? That be true but that's not what I am referring to. You are nothing but a poor version of the Doctor of Thuganomics. And you would not be able to handle that comparison, could you?”
Gabriel snorts. He snickers softly.
“I told you that you are a puppet. After this match. You will still be a puppet. I am being deliberately cryptic but here is a hint, you will no longer be Mack’s puppet come the conclusion of this match. When Katrina Mack signed up back to Mile High she fed you to the lions. This is not your world anymore little rat. You fight, scratch and claw to get that spotlight back and supplement it with your drugs and booze, as you still feel the guilt from all the time you spent in the dark. Now the darkness does not want to let you leave. Your debt is to be paid in blood and the accountant is crunching the numbers. The Coke on your gums makes the whiskey go down like water but not even that will numb the pain that I am going to inflict on you. I will shatter bones, I will pull out teeth and I will take my pound of flesh and garnish it with your flayed flesh and wash it all down with a pint of your blood. Nothing can save you from oblivion. In this match no one can say stop it, no one can save you from your fate. You will never be happy here and your legacy will die by my hand and you can go back to the underground and ‘Remember the good Old Days.’ Then, you will have my permission to die…with nothing but failed hopes of recapturing the glory days to keep you company. These words are the very breath of your demons. Through the eyes of the beast in me, I will be the courier. I've become friends with the abyss and it has politely asked me to escort you in.
Oh don’t worry Skrabz, I am not naïve enough to dismiss your talents. Only a fool does that. You don’t get the rep you have without earning it. I also know that you are just as comfortable as me in a no rules environment. All the toys we get to play with. A table or two. Did you enjoy the table I picked for you? Probably not. Maybe a chair? Hmm...nah. Maybe a jar of acid….wait….that's been done before. We can get oh so much more creative. Fire? Nah, that is for people with a limited imagination. We will think of something. That is something we will see eye to eye on. The only thing. But when it is all said and done, your quest will be over. You see. Sometimes the quest for fulfilment leads to dead ends, you have just hit a big brick wall. For in this land there are monsters and they want to play with you. Your body, the clay, my hand, the knife, my mind, the artist. You will be my canvas Skrabz. My finest work to date. At least they will find use for you in the morgue.”
Gabriel Ohio wipes away the condensation off the mirror. He takes a close look.
“No one will mourn you. There will be no tears. Not even your gang members will attend your metaphorical funeral. All they will see is just how far you have fallen and no amount of mortar can fix the cracks in the foundations of your forgotten empire. I will end with a promise. I will repeat. Fate. Now we have always been destined to fight mano o mano since that date. But, like I said. You are still a puppet. You will do something for me. You just do not know what it is yet and you cannot refuse as you have no say. I look forward to it. Mile High Spectacular III. See you soon. Skrabz.”
Ohio pulls away from the mirror and turns. The reflection does not. The blood on the side of the reflection's face flows and is fresh. It wraps bandages around its head and writes a message using the blood of his wounds on his face from within the mirror.
Admin: There's this too. We can turn this chatroom into a par-dookie!
May 12, 2021 16:00:11 GMT -6
Admin: I'll be getting off of Twitter soon, and fully committing to EFedder within the next few days. If you haven't joined EFedder yet, you should. 💪💯💯 It's the greatest thing created for efedding in a long time.
May 13, 2021 15:05:01 GMT -6
Admin: Note that the deadlines have changed. I made the change for the convenience of the other judges.
May 17, 2021 15:21:30 GMT -6
Admin: Hope everyone is enjoying their 4th of July weekend/week/day! 💪💯💯
Jul 4, 2021 14:22:58 GMT -6
Admin: Where do yall hist photos? I'm thinking about switching sites, because I'm paying a monthly subscription for Photobucket and they got watermarks back on my images. I'm guessing it's a glitch or something, but it's already been two days.
Aug 7, 2021 6:56:18 GMT -6
The Purge: I use Imgur - and I've never paid a cent for their services, and no water marks
Aug 7, 2021 8:48:13 GMT -6
Deleted: o.o Lord, Rob! Get away from Photobucket ASAP! I’m with Haircin — use Imgur. It’s way better and costs nothing.
Aug 8, 2021 16:28:35 GMT -6
Admin: I appreciate yall! ✊💯💯 Ima look into it this week. Apologies to everyone if some of the images for the show tonight have that Photobucket watermark. I didn't have the time today obviously to make any switches. But I will make time this week. 💯💯
Aug 8, 2021 17:43:04 GMT -6
Admin: Katrina will probably be happy too as she was just telling me I was crazy for paying monthly for a photo host. Lol.
Aug 8, 2021 17:44:00 GMT -6
Admin: ***NOTE*** I moved the deadline up 12 hours to give the judges an extra day to read over the rps.
Aug 10, 2021 15:29:37 GMT -6
Admin: Started messing with Imgur today and confirmed to myself that Imgur was the original photo host I was using for Season One and the beginning of Season Two of MHW. Something made me mad and thats when I switched to Photobucket. I don't remember what though.
Aug 12, 2021 16:08:47 GMT -6
Admin: Ima still switch back to it though, because the Photobucker watermarks are still showing up on some images.
Aug 12, 2021 16:09:19 GMT -6
Admin: ***Just A Reminder*** The new deadline is less than 24 hours away. 💪💯💯
Aug 20, 2021 9:45:58 GMT -6
cmosh: Marisol Vilaró is Spanish, she is from Spain
Sept 14, 2021 22:50:17 GMT -6
Admin: Noted 💪💯💯 So I can get Rrina to teach me how to pronounce her name.
Sept 15, 2021 15:35:32 GMT -6
cmosh: Don't worry I don't know how to pronounce it either. She is actually played by someone else, so it is sometimes hard to do RP's with them due to our work schelduce but I am alound to use the character over here
Sept 15, 2021 19:28:12 GMT -6
Admin: Trying something different with the match writing, based off of research and just to try something new. It's a hit or miss concept, so feedback would be appreciated. ThrowDown will also debut the new layout concept. AMMO will start with that new layout...
Sept 18, 2021 8:35:55 GMT -6
Admin: It happens, brudda!
Sept 19, 2021 19:49:09 GMT -6