The basketball bounced off the rim, the backboard, the rim, and finally the floor without ever touching the net. SHIT! MotherFUCKER cunt!
Doug Dramson of the Winnepeg Voyageurs was not having a good day. He and Bruce Bounder had invited newcomer Kevin Malka into the stadium for some extra practice--but both Bruce and Kevin were way outscoring Triple D.
Maybe you're just having an off-day,
Kevin said. The pangolin was a little nervous around the big wolverine—not that Doug was all that much taller than Kevin, but he was definately more aggressive. That he'd plucked a scale from Kevin's ear didn't help, even after the apology.
Off day?
laughed Bruce. Fuck, he's had an off career. He could build everyone in his family houses from all the bricks he throws in one game alone. Why d'ya think he never got off the Royals?
Doug glared at the hare and snarled. Bounder? Fuck you. Fuck you right up the ass.
Fuck me? With what? Shit, when I first saw it, didn't know if it was cock or a shrunken clit.
Kevin tensed as Doug took in a deep breath.
...the fuck you just say to me?
demanded Doug, taking a step towards Bruce.
The hare spread his arms in challenging invitation and swaggered forwards with a smirk. What? You wanna fuckin' start somethin'? Let's start.
Come on, guys,
said Kevin, trying to keep the peace. Settle down.
Doug didn't even look at Kevin, coming right up against Bruce. To Kevin's horror, Bruce responded by giving Dramson a shove. Doug shoved back hard, and Bruce grabbed the ball and hurled it at Doug's head; the wolverine barely avoided being hit. Kevin tried to get between them, but Doug shoved him aside and slammed Bruce into the wall. Dammit, guys, calm down!
Kevin pleaded as Bruce swung a punch at Doug, which Doug avoided. Doug snarled at Kevin, then grabbed Bruce and slammed his head against the wall. Bruce staggered away, holding his head where it had hit, then took away his paws. They were red, and so was a spot on his head. ...I'm bleeding. You motherfuckin' cuntsmear, I'm fuckin' BLEEDING!
.
Kevin felt completely helpless as the rough-and-ready hare tackled Doug to floor, throwing down punches, shrieking the air blue with half-finished curses. Doug finally managed to throw Bruce off, the gold stripe on his forehead also sporting a red stain. He got up, roaring, but Kevin was between them, pleading for them to calm down. The two tried to get around him, but the frantic, trembling pangolin managed to keep between them.
Get the FUCK out of the way, Kevin!
roared Doug.
NO!
yelled Kevin. Please quit fighting!
The tense standoff lasted a few eternal minutes before Bruce spat. I'm headin' for the showers. Follow me, Dramson, and I will rip your fuckin' dick off and shove it up your fuckin' ass!
He stormed off.
Doug snarled, heading for the showers that the away team normally used.
Mr. Dramson...
began Kevin.
Don't talk to me right now, kid!
barked Doug and stormed off, leaving Kevin alone in the court.
How is it?
asked Bruce.
Not a mark. You did it perfectly,
said Doug. As the locker rooms had two entrances, it was easy for Bruce to go from one to the other without Kevin seeing where the hare had gone. Told you blading was easier than it sounded.
I was worried I didn't get enough blood on me,
admitted Bruce.
Dude! This was a basketball practice, not War Zone Wrestling! That small smear was as good here as a full crimson mask in NPW! Might wanna make sure that blade's buried deep in the trash. Don't want Kevin finding it. By the way, he still in the other locker room?
He was the last time I looked,
said Bruce. Man, you come up with some fuckin' evil ideas, Doug. Kevin's about to lose his mind.
Hey, you agreed to it!
said Doug. You were even willin' to bump on the floor instead of me! And you played your part to a fuckin' T.
All I had to do was act like you when you first got on the Royals,
laughed Bounder, and imitated a cocky swagger. Doug Dramson,
Six-Foot-Nine of Aaaaaaarrogant Asshole
! Fuck, you were easy to hate!
The two buddies shared a laugh. So how long can you kayfabe hatin' my guts?
asked Doug.
Bruce was about to answer, when he looked past Doug. ...shit.
Doug looked behind himself at the door and chuckled ruefully. ...Aaaah, fuck. Hey, Kevin.