#bunch of schoolyard bullies in church
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
NSFW #02: For Fun!
âSay Hey, EWC Faithful! Weâre here with you at the lovely Crystal campground in the majestic Ouachita National Forest in Arkansas.â âWeâre going camping, and youâre going to watch.â Indeed, NSFW was camping. A large two person tent was set up and just visible to the left, and framed right in the center of the shot were Bishop Church and Mike McGuire, sitting across from one another beside a large, cheerily crackling campfire. The evidence of their dinner sits atop a small cooler: hot dogs, tofu dogs, stadium mustard, ketchup, buns. Chocolate and marshmallows for sâmores. The night sky is star-flecked through the towering trees, and in the background are the sounds of rustling leaves and the babble of a nearby but unseen creek. It was a good campsite. This had been a good trip so far in general, marked by a good beginning: a Fourth of July party held at the magnificent estate of their good friend (and as far as they were concerned, the heir apparent to the EWC Undisputed Championship) Natalie Young. There had been a moment that, while perhaps not exactly pleasant, had lent some serious emotional gravity between the three of them, and though the unpleasantness had dissipated, the strengthened bond hadnât. After the eveningâs festivities theyâd been wished a safe trip and, much to Mikeâs delight, she got a kiss goodbye thatâd set her in an outright giggly mood for hours afterward. Mike pulled a speared marshmallow away from the fire, sandwiching it between two graham crackers with a piece of Hershey bar before taking a bite. Bishop held a small assortment of notecards, and Mike had some of her own sitting on the log beside her. âAs you can see, our efforts to save some cash on this cross-country roadtrip weâre doing have gone critical mass. We are Now Sleeping in the Fucking Woods. But since weâre camping⌠you wanna hear a scary story?â She leaned forward, her face illuminated by the flames in an eerie manner. âThis is a story of a man. A man who surrounded himself with people he called his friends. But little did he know that these people were not what they seemed. They were⌠FUUUUUCKING HYYYPOCRIIIIIIIIITES.â Raising her arms up, she wiggled her fingers to convey spookiness. âOur story begins on a most jingoistic of evenings and our hero had just introduced a most marvelous of notions. He would captain a squad of five like individuals. They would bring forth a new era.â John looked down at the first card in his hand and read it aloud: âThis is not a Revolution. We are not taking some grand stance against corruption or apathy or any other "cause". This is not about The Future. This is about right now. This is about bringing some fun back to the EWC. Too many competitors are wound up tighter than the blunts Smokey Jones rolls.â He tossed the first card into the fire. âOnly it turns out, this little newly formed group of ragtag misfits, Freaks and Geeks, ifân you will, has a really fuckinâ interesting idea on what constitutes âfunâ. And just to prove that we ainât just spinninâ this tale out of our asses, we did our homework. And we took fuckinâ notes. Letâs start with everybodyâs favorite stoner, shall we? Smokey Fuckinâ Jones.â She brushed the graham cracker crumbs off her hands and picked up the first card off her small stack. âJames Larson, you carry all the tools for success, but have done nothing more than play games with the likes of it. I say, you sacrifice yourself one last time. Sacrifice yourself to me in the middle of the ring and lie down on the mat for the three count and I will take you back to the top of your game.â She looked at the camera with a slightly tilted head, lips twisting into an inquisitive frown. âLet me preface this with saying I donât mind a bit of the wacky tobaccy now and then. But I, no sane person, really, goes off and demands human fuckinâ sacrifice or whatever in the name of legalizing it.â Following her partnerâs lead, she pitched the card into the fire before picking the next one up, holding onto it for the time being. âNow. I donât think Cletus literally means human sacrifice. But in nearly every one of his bouts, he has made the ultimatum that if you donât join him in The Promised Land, heâll make sure you regret it.â âYâknow, for fun!â âAnyway, Iâve already spoken at length about Orianna Johnson. She is spry and cheery. She is only eighteen-years-old. Look at the jubilation she expresses in her every word. Happy statements to Lavender like:â Next card. âYouâre about as sharp as the leading edge of a bowling ball arenât you?â âWhich is funny considering just weeks prior she stated:â "With the admiration of many, you've gained mine as well, and my respect, Lavender. You'll never hear me bragging about how I can go out in the sunlight and not be afraid. I won't rub that in your face like others have. You may not realize it, but you've won far more in life than your win/loss record in the ring says.â Whoosh. Into the flames. âA little condescending. We all have some quotient of snark these days. But Mike, thereâs just something strange about this.â âYouâre right, partner. I mean, Iâve seen that promo and rewatched it a couple fuckinâ times because it was so goddamn weird. She says somethinâ about the well deserved admiration of the people or some shit like that, and then, boom. Sheâs talking about something else out of the blue, in a different position than she was a second ago.â âMaybe she flubbed. When we started this whole ordeal, I certainly didnât feel comfortable with all of this. Still makes me tense but I can deal with it. But yes, maybe itâs a promo cut together with the best takes. Or maybeâŚâ â...given Little Miss Teen EWCâs track record on talking shit, she said something so fuckinâ untoward that even she couldnât leave it in. Cuz if she did? Everybodyâd know just what an ugly, rotten, two-faced little snake that girl is. And we canât have that. Sheâs just a CHILD, right? Kids will be kids.â âYouth isnât an excuse for being needlessly cruel. Although, this is just speculation. But weâve got plenty of tape of how she views those of a lower station than her. Orianna Johnson: Dehumanizing others by referring to them as âitâ and the destruction and theft of private property.â âYâknow, for fun!â She looked down at the card sheâd picked up, pursing her lips a bit. âNow, this one seems like a breath of fresh fuckinâ air, especially cominâ after the lovely Miss Johnson. Steve Barnes. Superhero. Would be fuckinâ bully killer. I quote.â âI am sick and tired of men like you in this business. They are everywhere, thinking they can do whatever they want, to whoever they want, whenever they want. Today that stops. Men like you are nothing more than schoolyard bullies; and I hate bullies. So, from now on, wherever there are men like you, I will be there. You want to keep coming at people like you just did, I will be there to stop you. My name is Steve Barnes...and I AM IRON MAN!â âNice words. Would be an admirable cause. Problem is? You really really suck at it. Letâs look at the night you said all this. Sure, you came out, beat up on Collateral Damage, and why wouldnât you? Beating up Draco Lazarus is fucking fun. There are few faces as outright begging to be punched as his. But where the heck were you when Az was getting shredded by a bunch of masked fuckers? I donât recall Tony Motherfucking Stark beinâ all selective about his superheroism. Matter of factâŚâ She winged the card into the fire Frisbee-style and folded her arms, smirking a little in spite of herself. â...weâre doing a better job than you. Not that weâre out looking to be the Avengers, heh, the Guardians actually suit us way better if weâd even want to go that route. But how many instances of fucking shenanigans have Draco and his cronies tried to pull lately? And whoâs usually there to beat his ass? Hereâs a hint: NOT YOU.â âYou certainly had your chance last Monday. Twice. You had a chance to make another grand statement. Instead you opted to say nothing whatsoever. When Mucho Grande! were the victims of another assault from Collateral Damage, where were you, Iron Man? If youâre going to virtue signal, at least live up to it.â âSo much for having no cause except for ZOMGOD FUN, huh?â She paused. âHey Church. You got one more card there. That who I think it is?â âYes.â John tapped his last index card against the palm of his hand. âA familiar adversary. Kendrick Kross. Mr. Lutterâs tag team partner in our upcoming encounter. Two men who prior to this alliance were embroiled in a heated contest. But now there are no agendas and itâs all about entertainment. What does Kross really think about that?â âI truly have a love and respect for Nostalgia, he is someone that I can call a friend, he has his faults just as everyone else, one of them is having to please his followers, the Sentimentalists...what is the point in that? Why should you fight and please the Sentimentalists when all that you should want and need to do is fight to please yourself, thatâs one of his faults that will get him in trouble one day, and that day will be at Scars and Stripes.â Johnâs hands are now empty as the last card joined the rest. âHis plans were put on ice that evening.â âYeah, unfortunately, Cherry Garcia decided to give him the fuckinâ cold shoulder.â They glanced at each other for just a moment, giving simultaneous slight snickers at each otherâs dreadful puns. âBut it makes me think, Mike, our cool friend essentially said that he does this for himself. That his leaderâs selflessness will cost him one day. When do you think that will happen? Maybe in Oakland?â Mike nodded grimly. âYeah, I mean, calling your tag team partner naive and prone to fuckinâ backstabbing donât exactly harbor an atmosphere of trust, and as we can tell you, if you donât have trust in a tag team, youâre fucked with a capital F. U. But I guess in your book, maybe if heâs that gullible, he deserves it, right?â âAlthough, if I were Mr. Lutter, I wouldnât take much of what Kross says at face value. I happen to remember that his evaluation of me was of little worth. He has the habit of deriding every individual he comes across with backhanded compliments that culminate in him trying to run them out of the business. Friend or foe.â âCondensation and backstabbing. Yâknow, for fun!â Silence except the crackle of the flames. John raised a finger in the air as if to correct her but then he withdrew and nodded in agreement. âYou know, youâre right. He would technically do that as he defrosted.â Mike blinked, and then broke into wild cackles, falling backwards off the log she was sitting on. âOoof. Iâm okay.â Picking herself up, she sits back down, brushes herself off, and clears her throat. âAnyways. You may notice by now that we are fresh outta notecards. Thatâs because, well, we ainât got nothinâ bad to say about Nostalgia. He ainât a hypocrite, farâs weâve been able to see: heâs the only one in this whole bunch who actually believes in his own fuckinâ mission statement. Youâre a good dude, Nos. Youâre a lot of fun, and youâre real fuckinâ talented. But when we got your manager out of a spot, and you asked us to join your group? We said weâd get back to you⌠anâ now weâve got our answer.â âNo. Not because of you. I like you. Mike likes you. Youâve been nothing but kind to us. Youâve said complimentary things about us. Hereâs the thing. If we joined you, weâd be quoting ourselves all through the night.â âWeâre just not like you. We donât fuckinâ fit in your box or anyoneâs. Do we like to have fun? Fuck yeah we do. But unlike what you said you guys are about? We DO stand for something. Weâve said it all this time, and if you missed it you havenât been fuckinâ paying attention. Nuh-uh. Weâre not freaks, or geeks. Weâre us, and ainât nobody like us.â She paused a moment, a dreamy little smile flicking over her face. âCept for maybe Miss Natalie. Sheâs so fuckinâ cool, and strong, and smart, and sheâs got the prettiest fuckinâ eyes, and it was so awesome of her to invite us over for the Fourth for that partyâŚâ âI enjoyed Natalieâs pie.â Mike sat up, suddenly looking slightly irked. âHey, I thought you liked MY pie best! I mean, you ate a bunch of it before we left the house. Eh, on the other hand, maybe it wasnât that great after eight hours in the car.â John looked directly at the camera. His words would be followed by thousands of fingers clacking away at their keyboards. âYou both had me licking the plate clean.â Mikeâs hand flew to her mouth, perhaps stifling a snicker, and her emerald eyes glinted merrily in the firelight. âAnyway. Donât take what we do to you personal, Nos, but take this right now as a warning that weâre givinâ you as friends. Iâd keep an eye on the company you keep. They may be playinâ along with you just long enough to swipe something you have that they fuckinâ want.â âStorytime is over.â John stood up from the log. âComing up, Freaks and Geeks makes their official debut in the tag team division against us. Mike, lots of folks around here like history. NSFW stands before you and well, we donât have a shot at the tag team gold. You train and train in the hopes of reaching the top and sometimes it just doesnât happen no matter how much you wanted it to. Tell them, Mike, what does NSFW do when we just fall short?â âWe pick ourselves up, fuckinâ reload, study up, and do better next time. We donât run to the back and sob like little eighteen year old girls. So weâre not number one contenders right now. We will be. We said weâre gonna be fuckinâ Tag Team Champions, and we stand by that, no matter how many times we gotta start over. And you guysâll be as good a handhold in our climb back up the mountain as any.â âAnd believe me, we arenât marginalizing you two. Champions. Main eventers. Bonafide megastars. And here we are: the upstarts. Thatâs the nature of this business. Not fun. Notsports entertainment. Ask the Madison brothers what sports entertainment has ever done for them.â Mike got to her feet as well, standing with her arms folded at her partnerâs right hand.âThatâs where fun gets you when you donât stand for shit. Goofing around, smoking a bowl, and lighting farts on fire. Is that what you really fuckinâ want, Nos? Is that all you want out of this business? Itâs clearly not or you wouldnât have fuckinâ main evented the yearâs biggest goddamn show.â âThat goes for them all. Kendrick Kross said because I didnât know why I was here that Iâd wash out. You know what? You were right. But as I stand before you with my partner, youârewrong.â John put an arm around Mikeâs shoulders. His hand hesitated for just a moment before he rested it on her bare shoulder. âNSFW. Thatâs what matters. Thatâs our cause.â âWe believe in us. And not just us. We believe in our friends. We believe in every fuckinâ person out there who takes those four letters to mean somethinâ besides âNot Safe For Workâ. We fuckinâ stand by that and nothinâs gonna budge or break us. Can you Freaks and Geeks say the same? I donât fuckinâ think you can. Itâs right there in your motto. You donât stand for nothinâ but fun, and we already pointed out where that fuckinâ leads.â Thereâs a pause then, almost if Mike was very reluctant to pull away. But she did (though she was almost too slow about it) and strode over to the tripod-mounted phone, bending down, almost staring right through it at the people she was addressing. âSee you in Oakland. I hope for your sakes you find a better fucking conviction than âFOR FUNâ before then.â The camera clicked off. After that, John and Mike set to tidying up the campsite- dousing the fire with water from the creek and stirring up the ashes, putting the food away in the cooler and out of the reach of hungry, mischievous raccoons, throwing their garbage into a sealed trash can not far from their campsite. All that done, they tucked into their tent for the night. It was one of those comfortable silences, little sound but the chirp of insects and soft rushing of the creek, the tent illuminated by the dim light of Johnâs Kindle as he finished the chapter of The Natural heâd been in the middle of. Mike smiled. Heâd really gotten the hang of using it, just as they knew he would. They could only imagine the size of his digital library. Their voice softly broke the silence. âHey, Church. Iâm glad we did this.â John clicked off his book for now. âMe too.â Perhaps a struggle, John rewinded past everything, through all of the ugliness and told them: âUsed to go camping all the time. In better days.â âWe can keep doing it, you know. If you want. I kinda like it better than seeing the same fuckinâ hotel room insides every night.â Mike propped their cheek in one hand, and as if realizing they forgot to take it off, removed their hat, setting it beside their pillow. âIf you liked it before, I wanna give it back to you.â âMaybe it isnât necessary.â Johnâs back was to them. He nestled his head into the pillow. His tone was drowsy. âMike. I donât know how to put this but I feel like Iâve come back to life. And all of this, this can be what I like now.â âYeah⌠I can see what you mean.â They closed their eyes. There was something dancing on the tip of their tongue, but it was colliding and conflicting with other things, growing affections, even. Things they felt. Things they wanted to say. It was unlike them and they found it frustrating, stewing on their words this way, but they were unable to just spit it out. It tied itself in knots, rearranged itself, and finally came out in something both completely different and exactly the same as what theyâd originally had in mind. âJohn? You⌠know Iâd never hurt you ever, right? Iâd drop fucking dead first.â Silence. â...Church?â No sound but a soft, easy, contented cadence of breathing. They smiled, shook their head, and bedded down as well. Maybe it was for the best. âGânight, buddy.â
1 note
¡
View note