Toll Gang vs Streetz

Location: Skrabal's motel room, Denver, Colorado.
Date: 10th August 2018
Time: 9.30AM

Sitting on the edge of his bed Skrabal waits with his phone in one hand and a joint in the other, waiting for the video call he made to his friend and fellow Toll Gang member Tye to be answered. He inhales a lung full of smoke just as the call connects.

"My bredda!" says Tye, his face brimming with happiness. "Soz it took a while to answer the ting".

"Not a ting fam, don't sweat it." replies Skrabal with smoke drifting from his mouth with every word.

"You made real short work of Ace Indigo there, some blink and you miss it shit." Tye says smiling.

"It's not a ting fam." replies Skrabal, casting a somewhat arrogant look at his friend who rolls his eyes in response.

"You so full a your self brudda, but it was real good havin' you back on home ground the other week bredda. Was real nice to get you back in the studio too, felt jus' like them old days where it was all we'd do, smoke up and cypher all day and night." Tye gushes as fond memories of days past flood his thoughts.

"Seen, sent man back trippin' on a nostalgia tip. Ya remember them summer nights fam? Bunnin' a zoot half hanging outta ya bedroom window hopin' ya marge don't smell it. Must be ten years ago." Skrabal says, a bitter sweet tone in his voice as he reminisces.

"Aye, time flies bredda, no doubt about that." Tye replies, the hint of nostalgic sadness in his voice seeping in to his facial expression as he sighs.

"How your marge doin' anyway? She still goin' back home?" Skrabal jokingly asks.

"Bredrin', she beein goin' back to yard since she step off the boat in nineteen seventy three but she ain't left yet" Tye says laughing. "How's your marge and Lucy?" he continues, the laughter fading as the conversation shifts towards more serious topics.

"Lil sis is good, I seen her when I was home the other week. I ain't know how she do it though, jus' sit around watchin' Ma get worse, rottin' away in that home."Skrabal says, breaking eye contact with the camera, averting his gaze momentarily to the floor.

"You go see your Ma too?" asks Tye.

"Nah... couldn't do it." Skrabal answers with regret in his voice. "Lucy told me Ma watches Mile High, she been a fan a the shit since those World Of Sport days but she ain't feelin' the reboot. She a watch Mile High and a few others, HC Dub and Rose City suttin, I ain't know. All I know is Ma sees me on TV every week but don't know who the fuck I am. And she dyin' too." Skrabal continues, the weight of the words resting heavy on his heart.

"Rar, that's heavy bredda." Tye responds, heartfelt sympathetically.

"You done know!... I nah you been watchin' too, ya must a caught that fuckery with Bullet and the rest of the Maidens." Skrabal continues, shifting the conversation back to things he finds easier to talk about.

"I did bredda, was watchin' on some edge of my seat bidness. It's like you said though, six on one from the get go but I seen you had those twins turn up to back you later on." Tye replies with a knowing expression.

"Oh shit, that's another fuckery there too. They been at me since before I got here to bring 'em in and when I finally see opportunity for them, jus' when suttin' buildin' where I might need some back up so I send out the signal, jus' as they come in the whole ting a blow up. Now there nuttin' for 'em, no numbers game to balance and nuttin' to eat for them either." says Skrabal, his disappointment and frustration evident in his voice.

"They got beef though." Tye replies, the rising inflection in his voice contextualizing the statement as a question.

"The Streetz ting? That ain't beef fam it's sandwich ham, some processed meat shit ya get me? Ain't gonna keep them satiated for long." Skrabal answers dismissively.

"What about the tag straps?" asks Tye.

"Bruh what's the good in bein' champs of a dead divison? I shoulda jus' left them workin' out in Phoenix." Skrabal replies again in a dismissive tone.

"Ya nah, I'm a be real with you fam like I always have been, but I think you over thinkin' the situation. You brought 'em in, but the rest of what happened ain't on you." explains Tye.

"It ain't stop me feelin' like I let 'em down fam." Skrabal says sincerely.

"Skrabz, my G. Just focus on your own self, they can take care a themselves and if it don't pan out for them long term they a just move on elsewhere. You settled though, got roots to water and a rep to keep. Got ya first title defense comin' up an..." Tye stops talkin abruptly as Skrabal interrupts him.

"That's more fuckery. I'd spent a lil time, not much but a lil, watchin' tapes and shit. Takin' the sket seriously like she a real threat to but she ain't a threat to man, she threatened! Timid, scared, upset and offended, cryin' to the boss to the point he fire her and switch my shit up in the process. Why I have to suffer for other people shit?" Skrabal asks hypothetically, not really expecting an answer.

"Suffer? Bredda do you even fuckin' listen to yourself? How exactly is you sufferin'? You been ridin' high since day one. From little man nothin' to big man somthin' in two months, you main evented Mile High's first pay per view and you doin' the same at the second but you talk about sufferin'?" Tye asks, his voice growing louder but the tone remaining lighthearted as he highlights the absurdness of Skrabal's question.

"It was a hypothetical question fam, the shit ain't need answerin' but ya nah you right, Tye. Man is bein a lil' dramatic. I guess you spend so much time surrounded by bitches you start gwarnin' a lil like 'em." Skrabal replies, acknowledging his friend point.

"It's all good brudda, jus' as well you got me to sound off on though, it save ya runnin' your mouth all over twitter too coz...." Tye again stops talking abruptly as Skrabal interrupts.

"Fuck twitter fam! And fuck these neeks and nerds spendin' every hour a the day tappin' at they phones tweetin' every lil' threat and sideways thought that pop in a they head. They real big on a lil' five inch screen, till they get they feelin's hurt and get exposed. Ya needsta nah when to turn this shit off and when to turn it back on again coz..." Skrabal trails off as this time Ty interrupts him.

"I don't really feel like you even talkin' to me now bredda. It's all good though like I say it keep you outta trouble." Tye says, hoping to bring an end to Skrabals ranting.

"I'm sorry fam, man is real vexed with this shit. I'm a let you go though man, I nah ya got shit to do." Skrabal replies.

"Any time bredrin, any time. I do gotta get on though." Tye responds, nodding slightly as he speaks.

"Seen, seen. I'm a talk to you soon Tye, take it easy fam. Toll." Skrabal says.

"Peace bredrin, Toll." Tye replies.

With the call over Skrabal finishes his joint before leaving his motel room with his gym bag in hand.

---

Location: Skrabal's motel room, Denver Colorado.
Date: 14th August 2018
Time: 2.05AM

Skrabal sits on the floor of his motel room swigging from a bottle of beer. He reaches for the joint that burns slowly in the ashtray that sits next to him on the floor. He takes several slow, deliberate tokes and as he exhales the smoke a puzzled expression crosses his face.

"Snakebite, Rob... Bossman, I'm a only ask ya one time fam."

He takes another quick toke on his joint before continuing, the look of puzzlement subsiding slightly.

"Don't make me have to ask ya again bredrin', I beg of you. "

Two more quick draws his joint and he continues with his question, the puzzled expression replaced now by a slightly frustrated one.

"Are you dizzy blud?"

Several more quick tokes to finish the joint and after stubbing it out in the ash tray he continues, the frustration becoming more evident with every word.

"Talkin' about comin' for me fam, what for? Why now? I mean this suttin' like the shit I expected from ya a while back to be real witchu, but I thought we were past that now and it never really seemed like a ting to you anyway. Plus ya done me a few real good solids since I been here so I'm a go ahead and guess you been huffin' that face paint."

He finishes his beer, his cold stare fixed on the camera throughout.

"Done fucked up ya thinkin' innit blad!"

Skrabal shakes his head as he reaches for another bottle of beer. After  twisting the cap off he continues.

"Coz you speakin' some bare inappropriatenesses there bredrin.'"

He subtly shakes his head again before drinking half the beer he just opened.

"So I'm a have to correc' ya one time."

He finishes the beer and looks at the empty bottle briefly then places it on the floor next to him.

"I mean I ain't know who taught ya your manners fam but they fucked up. See when someone help ya, and don't pretend man ain't helped ya in more ways than one, well when that happen there' suttin' you say to the man that helped ya and it's not 'I'm comin' for you', nah. Allow that nonsense. See when er'body else wanna jus' sit back and watch ya get whooped but man like Skrabz say nah, bun that, and come to ya aid.... the only words ya need leavin' ya lips after that... is thank you.

He smirks arrogantly for a few seconds then smiles before leaning back in his chair laughing. Leaning forward again he continues.

"But I get it though fam, it ain't a ting."

The arrogant smirk flashes across his face again as he shrugs his shoulders before leaning out of the frame, a few seconds later he leans back holding a joint and a bottle of beer in his hand.

"Man ain't sweatin' it a second nah, but I'm a only let it slide one time so keep that foolishness outta ya mouth going' forward, ya see me?"

Skrabal narrows his brow and glares in to the camera as he brings the joint to his mouth and lights it.

"But shit..."

He pauses for a toke mid-sentence and leans back as he exhales smoke up towards the ceiling. Leaning forward again he continues, his expression growing more serious with every word.

"...Man like Skrabz be feelin' a lil suttin over all this bullshit myself, on the level. I mean if it ain't bad enough that Forge wife cost me the dub against Bullet now she gone got herself fired before a can level the score and nah, before ya ask... one mic check don't cut it. Then Forge jus' walk out, leavin' our business unfinished and it got me thinkin' blud...

He lifts the joint back to his mouth for another deep pull.


"It kinda funny how for some bikers we only seen 'em ride out once... and they ain't comin' back."

His serious expression breaks as he laughs. He twists the cap of the bottle of beer he's been holding and immediately raises it to his mouth. After gulping down half the bottle he takes a few tokes on his joint.

"So now man like Solomon want that title work. It's like I said a while back bredrin, I ain't care if you earn it, ya steal or ya hand picked for the spot... Now ya tried stealin' it last week but that ain't work out for ya so now it look like ya gotta try earnin' it too, maybe ya do better there maybe ya don't. Either way it ain't matter. Solomon Cain or the bossman himself, man like Skrabz is walkin' in and outta Good Time strapped with that metal so I ain't even care which one a ya get the shot."

He tilts the glass bottle towards the camera and nods in it's direction before finishing what's left of the beer. Looking in to the camera with an expression some might call condescending he continues on.

"Funny ting is how ya all talkin' 'bout bein' face of the company like it ain't nuttin' but buzzwords and bullshit. What next fam, ya all gonna jump on a trapeze vibe and start swingin' from brass rings or suttin? Nah, never! So allow that face of the company gas, ain't no John Cenas 'round these ends, y'all visible fam. Man has seen and sees all a ya plain as day, trust.."

He finishes his joint and drops in the ash tray.

"But we gots a ways to go before we get to Good Time and I got this lil six man tag ting nex' though, and this time I ain't feelin' forced to do it, nah, but it still feel a lil extra though. I mean those Brix City Boyz already handled these Streetz cats a couple times already and it got me feelin' like it's busy business for the three of us, for real. So I might jus' pull up a chair at the announce table and run my gums for the two minutes it take Tox and Shox to catch that dub."

He looks dep in to the camera, his expression as a cold as his stare.

"I mean by sound of it everyone else gettin' catered to so how 'bout man like Skrabz start playin' that same diva shit? Jus' give maself the night off on a champion's privilege tip, then what? Man holds all the cards innit! Bossman wanna come for me nex' then I'm a give him a reason too, trust.."

He continues glaring in to the camera but after a few seconds his expression breaks with a smile, he then leans back in his chair laughing again. He leans forward as his short burst of laughter starts to fade out and looks back in to the camera with an intense stare.

"Nah... I'm jus' fuckin' witchu."

He smirks confidently and continues.

"I told ya all from day one, it ain't matter who stand across that ring from me. It could be Dillon Daniels, Candi Bratton, Ace Indigo or a disgustin' man like Tyke. It ain't matter who it is, man like Skrabz is about this, one hundred. So come Thursday Toll Gang a roll in and switch gears, swerve all over the Streetz on a drunk driver tip and hit three pedestrians on the way through."

He nods at the camera, his expression and body language oozing confidence as he leans forward.

"Standard!"

He swipes at his phones screen, ending the recording.