Post by Duce Jones on May 14, 2022 23:59:23 GMT -5
Here we go again!! Hey there, how are y’all doing? If you don’t who I am by now, well I’m the voice in Duce’s head.
It’s not like you’re here alone.
Right! Heh!? Forgot about him.
And me too..
Okay, so at the moment, you can probably tell Duce may or may not have a few issues.
Depends on who you ask.
Exactly but since there isn’t much time for that, why don’t we try and pick up where we last left off with the comings and goings of what’s happening in the world of Duce.
While in Djibouti!
Do we even know?
There’s been lots of alcohol… So much alcohol..
Yeah, the kid hasn’t been thinking very clearly lately. Like why would he accept a challenge from Bifford?
Plethora.
Who gives a fuck what he’s calling himself these days?
I mean it kinda matters to him, doesn’t it?
Counting to four is the only thing that matters to him.
He’s a very childish individual if you ask me.
No one did.
Well can we at least get back to what’s going on with Duce and why he would even place himself in this kinda situation.
Boredom?
Could be..
Either way, we catch up with Duce, BRIM and Byson who have been traveling comfortably and freely for a good while now. The AoV were no longer a threat, Byson was finally able to get his establishment back up and running. Duce had finally gotten a chance to be around family while BRIM was en route towards what could be called the biggest match of his life. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. For the time being, the three had left Djibouti in search of why they were able to live without looking over their shoulders.
“So what’s the deal with you and this Plethora?” BRIM questioned Duce.
“He likes t’fight, I likes t’fight..” Duce shrugged.
BRIM nodded his head as the three walked up to what appeared to be an abandoned building. Seems like these mothafuckas love abandoned buildings, huh? Welp, that’s where we are and that’s where they stand.
It’s not just any abandoned building, though.
That is true, this one was formerly known as the Sanatorium. Former prison that BRIM resided in before breaking free. The three of us stood there, taking in what was once a thriving business, who sold brutality as a means of reform and entertainment.
If you wanna call it that..
Can I just tell the story?
I feel like you’re adding things for fluff.
I mean we do have Plethora, so there should be an abundance of something.. Amirite?
Like, I was saying, the three of us examined the structure, BRIM appeared to relieve. A small smirk came across his face.
“Bruh! Is you smilin’?” I asked BRIM.
“I might be.. You just don’t understand the bullshit that I dealt with in that place..”
“Yeah mane.. My bad bout dat..” I somberly stated. “But at least we got past dis shit..”
“If you say so..” Was his rebuttal.
“I’m just sayin’, fa almost two years, we had t’duck an’ dodge muthafuckas an’ now.. Now t’just be able t’go home t’my kids is probably tha best feelin’ a man could eva feel.”
“I just can’t believe that it’s finally over.”
Byson speaks. “Yeah, my sources say that they somehow went bankrupt.”
“Sources?” BRIM asked. “I hear ya, but this just doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s because it isn’t right.” A voice behind us states. We all turn around and standing right before us.
Is some asshole, yeah yeah we know the story. What does this have to do with Duce facing Bifford again?
Plethora..
Duce ain’t been beat by no muthafucking Plethora three times already. If that was the case, Duce probably would’ve told this schmuck to go fuck himself.
Schmuck?
Fat son of a bitch seems to be played out at this point. It’s really like stating the obvious.
Oh, like how he calls Duce trash every chance that he gets?
I don’t believe that’s the same thing..
Of course not but somehow when it comes to him, it’s apparently the obvious. Like him counting to four all the time. It’s almost like he’s a retard or something.
C’mon, you can’t say that word anymore.
Really? I can’t say retard?
It’s mentally challenged now..
I’m pretty sure that’s not it but at some point we may remember.. Can I finish the story?
Does it really matter if you do?
I’m with him on this one.. I just can’t seem to figure out why he would step back inside of the ring after what seems like almost two years?
Does that even matter? Sometimes a man just gotta do what a man gotta do..
As I was saying, if you two didn’t rudely interrupt me..
Fuck you..
Fuck you..
Ugh… I can’t fathom how Duce even functions with all of this madness going on.
Like I was saying.. The three of us were turning around to see that it was none other than..
This DICK!!!
Why are you so childish..
The same reason we’re in Djibouti..
I guess.. Since I have to leave that for a cliffhanger for another time..
Hell, it’s not like they’re gonna know who it is anyway.. So can we skip to the part where all the shit talking happens?
We have to set the scene, set the mood..
We all know that we’re going to lose.
I don’t know that! I’m one of the toughest muthafuckas to ever step foot inside of a ring! Mechanically repaired shoulder thanks to Mack O’Connor. Fucking eyeball gone, thanks to my uncle! I’ve been through some shit man.. Shit that I should’ve never even allowed myself to go through but sitting here and licking my wounds like some bitch ass puppy ain’t what we do. Especially when it’s Bifford, he thinks someone is truly scared of him.
Not always about being scared.. Sometimes it’s about being smart.
Yeah, we’re still as hot headed as the first time we faced off with the guy. Underestimated him then and continue to underestimate him now. We know he’s more than likely gonna pin us.
Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe we just wanna step back inside of that ring..
Against Bifford though? He probably beats his dick to the thought of continuously pinning us like it’s some sort of sick fantasy or some shit.
That’s why he’s not pinning us this Monday at Massacre..
What?
Come again, say what?
We find ourselves, walking down Hollywood Boulevard, taking in the sights that California had to offer before heading back to the airport and boarding a plane to Djibouti. Hmph. We carried on in conversation while droves of people walked to and fro, enjoying the sights that there were to see.
“Y’kno’ what my problem is wit folks like Biff? It’s t’fact dat he thanks I’m just gonna continue t’let his ass beat on me like I’m Will Smith an’ he’s Jada. I don’t give a fuck if I lose Monday night. If he challenges me again, I’m gonna step tha fuck up.”
“Why would you do that to yourself?” Byson questioned.
“Look at me, naw seriously.. Take one good look at me.”
They both looked at me with confusion etched on their faces.
“At dis point, I’m enjoyin’ life. I have nothin’ else t’lose an’ if some oversized retard thanks beatin’ me brang some type of happiness t’em.. Fuck it, why not? It’s like donating t’tha Special Olympics or somethin’.. I’m pretty sho OCDubya is funded by some type’a foundation like dat. Cause why else would he become champion afta’ honestly bein’ a fossil fa so long.”
“He took out one of the toughest men in OCW for that World Championship.” BRIM stated.
I gave no fucks.
“Retard strength.. I wonda if him an’ Bucky Johnson are related.”
“Who t’fuck is Bucky Johnson?” BRIM asked.
“Nevamind.” I stated, they weren’t as engulfed with the business as I was.
“So you going out there with the intention on losing is what I’m hearing from ya.”
“I mean, I don’t intend to lose. I don’t want to lose but let’s be real.. Three times already is enough but if he wants t’go fa overkill we can do dat too..”
I look straight into the hard camera.
“I don’t get tired..”
BRIM shakes his head disapprovingly while Byson waves at the camera. A hand pops out and waves back.
“See, he kno’s what’s going on! But tha fact’a tha matta is dis. What’s wrong wit helpin’ out someone who’s copin’ wit some bad history within himself. I’ve been there, I undastand, he’s in dat dark place. Dat’s why he wears the hood.. Thank goodness it’s black though..”
Duce looks at the hard camera and gives a wink.
“Y’kno’, now dat I thank bout it, y’all thank Biff part’a tha Luminati?”
“What!?” Byson exclaimed.
“I’m just sayin’, he was able t’murda folks, stuff they ass in sandwiches. Then call tha bullshit chicken. Let my ass do some shit like dat an’ see what t’fuck happens. Then he walks around wit a hood on, we all kno’ those occult muthafuckas love they capes wit a good ritual. Nothin’ like good Satan in tha afternoon.”
“I thought that Boris guy was running around tying up loose ends?” BRIM asked with a hint of confusion in his tone.
“See.. that’s the coverup. Hell fa all we kno’ Biff might be an agent fa Russia. A time traveler or some shit. Sent back t’kill certain folks who may be a threat t’what the NWO an’ Russia got goin’ on.”
“Are you sure that you quit smoking?” Byson inquired.
“100% I’m just tryin’ t’put tha pieces t’gether..”
“You want a chalkboard, tape and string while you’re at it?” I nod. “This motherfucka!” BRIM exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. “Have you not been paying attention to Plethora at all?”
“What does it matta? What? He wants t’kill some bitch name Kate? I could care less.. What? He’s tryin’ t’hold on t’tha title until Silverfreak shows his face again? Bro, two decades have past and we’re still sittin’ here at dis point because he’s holdin’ a grudge. I’m not fucked up in tha least. An’ dat’s why you!” I point towards BRIM. “You’re gonna be tha one t’spoil his lil parade. Y’see me, my mind been a long time ago an’ givin’ a fuck bout whetha or not I’m gonna beat Biff has become irrelevant. I’ve saved up enough coins t’get me through whateva it is dat’s bout t’come an’ lockin’ up wit him inside’a tha rang any chance I get.. Seems like a decent way t’go bout it. Hell I wouldn’t care if I was only booked against him fa tha remainda of my career cause just kno.. At some point, he;s goona slip up and I’m gonna beat him. An’ when I beat him, he’ll neva be able t’take dat away from me.. An’ maybe.. Just maybe, I’ll finally get him t’shut t’fuck up..”
“I thought he said that Silverfreak beat him.” Byson chimed in.
“Then I just may shoot tha muthafucka, hell do us all a favor..”
BRIM and Byson look at me with shock and surprise. I admit it was a poor choice of words but at this point, if he keeps coming for me. We’re no longer gonna handle it as men nor wrestlers. I’m catching some jail time!
It’s not like you’re here alone.
Right! Heh!? Forgot about him.
And me too..
Okay, so at the moment, you can probably tell Duce may or may not have a few issues.
Depends on who you ask.
Exactly but since there isn’t much time for that, why don’t we try and pick up where we last left off with the comings and goings of what’s happening in the world of Duce.
While in Djibouti!
Do we even know?
There’s been lots of alcohol… So much alcohol..
Yeah, the kid hasn’t been thinking very clearly lately. Like why would he accept a challenge from Bifford?
Plethora.
Who gives a fuck what he’s calling himself these days?
I mean it kinda matters to him, doesn’t it?
Counting to four is the only thing that matters to him.
He’s a very childish individual if you ask me.
No one did.
Well can we at least get back to what’s going on with Duce and why he would even place himself in this kinda situation.
Boredom?
Could be..
Either way, we catch up with Duce, BRIM and Byson who have been traveling comfortably and freely for a good while now. The AoV were no longer a threat, Byson was finally able to get his establishment back up and running. Duce had finally gotten a chance to be around family while BRIM was en route towards what could be called the biggest match of his life. Whether he wanted to admit it or not. For the time being, the three had left Djibouti in search of why they were able to live without looking over their shoulders.
“So what’s the deal with you and this Plethora?” BRIM questioned Duce.
“He likes t’fight, I likes t’fight..” Duce shrugged.
BRIM nodded his head as the three walked up to what appeared to be an abandoned building. Seems like these mothafuckas love abandoned buildings, huh? Welp, that’s where we are and that’s where they stand.
It’s not just any abandoned building, though.
That is true, this one was formerly known as the Sanatorium. Former prison that BRIM resided in before breaking free. The three of us stood there, taking in what was once a thriving business, who sold brutality as a means of reform and entertainment.
If you wanna call it that..
Can I just tell the story?
I feel like you’re adding things for fluff.
I mean we do have Plethora, so there should be an abundance of something.. Amirite?
Like, I was saying, the three of us examined the structure, BRIM appeared to relieve. A small smirk came across his face.
“Bruh! Is you smilin’?” I asked BRIM.
“I might be.. You just don’t understand the bullshit that I dealt with in that place..”
“Yeah mane.. My bad bout dat..” I somberly stated. “But at least we got past dis shit..”
“If you say so..” Was his rebuttal.
“I’m just sayin’, fa almost two years, we had t’duck an’ dodge muthafuckas an’ now.. Now t’just be able t’go home t’my kids is probably tha best feelin’ a man could eva feel.”
“I just can’t believe that it’s finally over.”
Byson speaks. “Yeah, my sources say that they somehow went bankrupt.”
“Sources?” BRIM asked. “I hear ya, but this just doesn’t feel right.”
“That’s because it isn’t right.” A voice behind us states. We all turn around and standing right before us.
Is some asshole, yeah yeah we know the story. What does this have to do with Duce facing Bifford again?
Plethora..
Duce ain’t been beat by no muthafucking Plethora three times already. If that was the case, Duce probably would’ve told this schmuck to go fuck himself.
Schmuck?
Fat son of a bitch seems to be played out at this point. It’s really like stating the obvious.
Oh, like how he calls Duce trash every chance that he gets?
I don’t believe that’s the same thing..
Of course not but somehow when it comes to him, it’s apparently the obvious. Like him counting to four all the time. It’s almost like he’s a retard or something.
C’mon, you can’t say that word anymore.
Really? I can’t say retard?
It’s mentally challenged now..
I’m pretty sure that’s not it but at some point we may remember.. Can I finish the story?
Does it really matter if you do?
I’m with him on this one.. I just can’t seem to figure out why he would step back inside of the ring after what seems like almost two years?
Does that even matter? Sometimes a man just gotta do what a man gotta do..
As I was saying, if you two didn’t rudely interrupt me..
Fuck you..
Fuck you..
Ugh… I can’t fathom how Duce even functions with all of this madness going on.
Like I was saying.. The three of us were turning around to see that it was none other than..
This DICK!!!
Why are you so childish..
The same reason we’re in Djibouti..
I guess.. Since I have to leave that for a cliffhanger for another time..
Hell, it’s not like they’re gonna know who it is anyway.. So can we skip to the part where all the shit talking happens?
We have to set the scene, set the mood..
We all know that we’re going to lose.
I don’t know that! I’m one of the toughest muthafuckas to ever step foot inside of a ring! Mechanically repaired shoulder thanks to Mack O’Connor. Fucking eyeball gone, thanks to my uncle! I’ve been through some shit man.. Shit that I should’ve never even allowed myself to go through but sitting here and licking my wounds like some bitch ass puppy ain’t what we do. Especially when it’s Bifford, he thinks someone is truly scared of him.
Not always about being scared.. Sometimes it’s about being smart.
Yeah, we’re still as hot headed as the first time we faced off with the guy. Underestimated him then and continue to underestimate him now. We know he’s more than likely gonna pin us.
Have you ever thought about the fact that maybe we just wanna step back inside of that ring..
Against Bifford though? He probably beats his dick to the thought of continuously pinning us like it’s some sort of sick fantasy or some shit.
That’s why he’s not pinning us this Monday at Massacre..
What?
Come again, say what?
We find ourselves, walking down Hollywood Boulevard, taking in the sights that California had to offer before heading back to the airport and boarding a plane to Djibouti. Hmph. We carried on in conversation while droves of people walked to and fro, enjoying the sights that there were to see.
“Y’kno’ what my problem is wit folks like Biff? It’s t’fact dat he thanks I’m just gonna continue t’let his ass beat on me like I’m Will Smith an’ he’s Jada. I don’t give a fuck if I lose Monday night. If he challenges me again, I’m gonna step tha fuck up.”
“Why would you do that to yourself?” Byson questioned.
“Look at me, naw seriously.. Take one good look at me.”
They both looked at me with confusion etched on their faces.
“At dis point, I’m enjoyin’ life. I have nothin’ else t’lose an’ if some oversized retard thanks beatin’ me brang some type of happiness t’em.. Fuck it, why not? It’s like donating t’tha Special Olympics or somethin’.. I’m pretty sho OCDubya is funded by some type’a foundation like dat. Cause why else would he become champion afta’ honestly bein’ a fossil fa so long.”
“He took out one of the toughest men in OCW for that World Championship.” BRIM stated.
I gave no fucks.
“Retard strength.. I wonda if him an’ Bucky Johnson are related.”
“Who t’fuck is Bucky Johnson?” BRIM asked.
“Nevamind.” I stated, they weren’t as engulfed with the business as I was.
“So you going out there with the intention on losing is what I’m hearing from ya.”
“I mean, I don’t intend to lose. I don’t want to lose but let’s be real.. Three times already is enough but if he wants t’go fa overkill we can do dat too..”
I look straight into the hard camera.
“I don’t get tired..”
BRIM shakes his head disapprovingly while Byson waves at the camera. A hand pops out and waves back.
“See, he kno’s what’s going on! But tha fact’a tha matta is dis. What’s wrong wit helpin’ out someone who’s copin’ wit some bad history within himself. I’ve been there, I undastand, he’s in dat dark place. Dat’s why he wears the hood.. Thank goodness it’s black though..”
Duce looks at the hard camera and gives a wink.
“Y’kno’, now dat I thank bout it, y’all thank Biff part’a tha Luminati?”
“What!?” Byson exclaimed.
“I’m just sayin’, he was able t’murda folks, stuff they ass in sandwiches. Then call tha bullshit chicken. Let my ass do some shit like dat an’ see what t’fuck happens. Then he walks around wit a hood on, we all kno’ those occult muthafuckas love they capes wit a good ritual. Nothin’ like good Satan in tha afternoon.”
“I thought that Boris guy was running around tying up loose ends?” BRIM asked with a hint of confusion in his tone.
“See.. that’s the coverup. Hell fa all we kno’ Biff might be an agent fa Russia. A time traveler or some shit. Sent back t’kill certain folks who may be a threat t’what the NWO an’ Russia got goin’ on.”
“Are you sure that you quit smoking?” Byson inquired.
“100% I’m just tryin’ t’put tha pieces t’gether..”
“You want a chalkboard, tape and string while you’re at it?” I nod. “This motherfucka!” BRIM exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. “Have you not been paying attention to Plethora at all?”
“What does it matta? What? He wants t’kill some bitch name Kate? I could care less.. What? He’s tryin’ t’hold on t’tha title until Silverfreak shows his face again? Bro, two decades have past and we’re still sittin’ here at dis point because he’s holdin’ a grudge. I’m not fucked up in tha least. An’ dat’s why you!” I point towards BRIM. “You’re gonna be tha one t’spoil his lil parade. Y’see me, my mind been a long time ago an’ givin’ a fuck bout whetha or not I’m gonna beat Biff has become irrelevant. I’ve saved up enough coins t’get me through whateva it is dat’s bout t’come an’ lockin’ up wit him inside’a tha rang any chance I get.. Seems like a decent way t’go bout it. Hell I wouldn’t care if I was only booked against him fa tha remainda of my career cause just kno.. At some point, he;s goona slip up and I’m gonna beat him. An’ when I beat him, he’ll neva be able t’take dat away from me.. An’ maybe.. Just maybe, I’ll finally get him t’shut t’fuck up..”
“I thought he said that Silverfreak beat him.” Byson chimed in.
“Then I just may shoot tha muthafucka, hell do us all a favor..”
BRIM and Byson look at me with shock and surprise. I admit it was a poor choice of words but at this point, if he keeps coming for me. We’re no longer gonna handle it as men nor wrestlers. I’m catching some jail time!