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Pissed
Topic Started: Feb 11 2007, 08:15 PM (437 Views)
Mike Ryba
Unregistered

"Mother FUCKER!"

~Ryba sits in his locker room after the show, holding an ice pack on the back of his head. With his left hand on the back of his head holding the pack, his right hand is clenched tightly, veins slightly buldging as he sits there~

"You know, you would figure he would have gotten the hint when Mercer and myself owned his team. And then you figure he would step back when I personally made his friend my god damn bitch!"

~Ryba slams the clenched fist down on his thigh with multiple shots, a lot of aggression kicking in~

"And why the FUCK was Chris Tucker here?"

~Ryba removes the bag of ice and brings his head back up. He squints as not so much for the bruise and lump under his long hair, but the headache he has now~

"You would figure for the money they pay him, he wouldn't give some no named crip the time of day."

~Ryba lets out a sigh as he sits there, his eyes closed and brows arched~

"Oh its a fuckin' war now. The rumors of me leaving can stop, that fucker just made me stay for the long haul. I would even work for a ham sandwich only for now on, as long as I am allowed to make his life a living hell on each show!"

~Ryba throws the bag across the room as it slams against the wall~

"CHRIS FUCKING TUCKER!"

TBC by anyone, im bored.
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MichaelMercer
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Michael Mercer was walking through the hallway with an unmistakable look of frustration on his face. When he heard his friend yelling in a nearby room, however, he stopped in his tracks and glanced over in the direction of the yelling. Slowly, he peered into the room and shook his head. "Kurupt Loc took his sore loser hissy fit out on you, too, didn't he?"
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Mike Ryba
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"Oh yeah...with a broom and a Tucker."

~Ryba stood up and closed his eyes, breathing in deeply and exhaling with his mouth open, trying to calm down as much as he can~

"Without Rush Hour that sonofabitch wouldn't be shit. And now all of a sudden he makes a cameo in PDW, a long side a pure bred, fake thug, wannabe gangster, bitch."

~Ryba walks over to his locker and opens it up, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol and taking some for his headache~

"I feel bad for him...real, fucking, bad. He just became numero uno on the Rybanators shitlist!"
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MichaelMercer
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"Oh yeah," Mercer answered, "he was number one on my shitlist since I ended up mistaking that fucker for Virgil." Sighing, he pulled out a cigarette and lighter. "And why wouldn't Chris Tucker be here to back his boy up? After next week, Kurupt Loc's more than likely gonna be joining his buddy Tuck in another place aside from a PDW show? What place, you ask?" Mercer blew out a ring of smoke from his cigarette. "The unemployment line."
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Mike Ryba
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"That is damn true. I like Mike Epps better anyway.."

~Ryba pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and put one on his lips, lighting it up as he stands up and joins Mercer out in the hallway. He looks around as they begin to walk down the corridor~

"Remember back in ISW and that chick Mea. Remember what I had planned for her before that place canned?"
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MichaelMercer
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Michael tapped his chin in thought. "...the one that involved the-... yeah. Yeeeeeah."
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Mike Ryba
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"Yeah well...it will be that.."

~Ryba takes a drag of his cigarette, exhaling and then quickly forming a toothy grin~

"With a lot more fixes added into it. He was to hit me with a broom, and have some hasbeen say a line on me that is so fucking un-original that it isn't even funny anymore."

~Ryba looks down the hallways and at the locker rooms, hopefully trying to catch someone to either bullshit with him and Mercer, or for him and Mercer to rip on~

"I mean that line is used by generations and generations of guido whiteboys across the nation. Its lost all meaning."
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MichaelMercer
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"Almost as unoriginal as the gangster gimmick, ain't it? Ah well.. I guess that's what Kurupt gets for bein' a twat over losin' his match. Fact of the matter is either one of us could beat him and his bitch buddy Ash Bombay. Besides, I don't think there's much room for them to talk after you kinda broke Ash's spirit out there." Michael glanced over his shoulder and out the door, as if waiting for someone to pass by. Seeing no one, he just grinned and exhaled another cloud of smoke.
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Mike Ryba
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"Pretty much. I mean I said I would give him an easy win. I had no desire to even be in the arena.."

~Ryba still looked around, the cigarette dangling from his mouth like some old man~

"But then I got some sense of enjoyment out of him actually believing he was winning. And then just out of nowhere...I turned his neck into a slinky."

~Ryba laughed as he looked up, taking a drag of his cigarette and exhaling, sending the cloud up into a nearby light~

"I swear to god, I would have nutted if I managed to cripple that poor bastard."
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Matthews
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[Down the hall, we see Jake Matthews limping in the direction of Mercer and Ryba. He has a bandage around his head from the chair shot recieved from London at the end of their match earlier in the evening. This was not Jake's night. He got the fuck beat out of him, yet he was still able to keep his undefeated streak alive. As he continued limping down the hall, He finally notices the 2 men. As he approaches, he looks at Mercer, then at Ryba]


Jake Matthews: How we doin boys?
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MichaelMercer
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Mercer glanced over his shoulder once more, and took a step off to the side between the two men next to him as he acknowledged Jake, cigarette dangling from his lips. "Aside from Kurupt Loc siccing his mom and dad on me earlier, I'm fine, boyo."
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Matthews
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[Jake nods at Mercer]


Jake Matthews: He got ya'll too?


[Jake looks at Ryba]


Jake Matthews: Yeah well... me, Nikkon, and Star were jumped by 30 guys... usually when sopmeone says that... they're trying to pad the truth a little... I'm not. There was 30 of'em... yet I still managed to hobble my broken ass down to that ring...
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Mike Ryba
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"Well the attack wasn't that much of a shock.."

~Ryba took a drag of his cigarette, looking down and shrugging at the same time~

"It was just a shock to see that Kurupt Loc actually knew 30 people. I only assumed he went home after work and masterbating to cartoon porn."
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MichaelMercer
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"Shit, of course he knows 30 people," Mercer chimed in, "every moron's gotta have a posse; I refuse to think Kurupt Loc to be the kind of man to stand up and do shit on his own."
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Mike Ryba
Unregistered

"Agreed. I bet you Ash wipes his ass. Or holds it while he pees. Either way...the day one of them feels like stepping up to us one on one, we are open. But...wait.."

~Ryba finishes off the cigarette and scrapes it against the wall, knocking the cherry out and stepping on it. He tosses the butt into an open locker room, not really caring who is in there~

"One of them did stand up to me one on one. And...one of them lost. Well damn...I guess they cant do shit alone."
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