Nocturnal Demolition Emission (rumble rp)

[Caden Dean]

It must have been way in to the AM as Caden Dean sat stone faced and stoned at the edge of the bar counter. In the corner he propped himself against the wall to keep from collapsing onto the floor. His eyes twitched back and forth, however he felt nothing. Narrowing his eyes, as if he were near sighted, he tried to focus clearly on the bartender. Why his face resembled a lizards! Caden blinked twice then slid a small Tylenol bottle from his pocket. He unscrewed the cap and breathed in deeply. Ah, ether. With a snort and cough, he felt numb again. The familiar face of his partner in using rounded the side of the bar. Joel stumbled for he too had inhaled too much ether. With a swift movement, he propelled himself towards Caden smothering the side of Dean’s face with sloppy kisses. Caden shoved him off.

Joel: Don’t be…such a ….homophobe.

Caden groggily faced Joel who was nearly drooling over him. Joel reached once more to touch Caden severely angering Dean. Caden caught Joel’s right arm with his left hand.

Caden: Stop it!

Joel sat upright glaring into the soft brown eyes that were rimmed with intoxicants and eyeliner. He slammed a five dollar bill on the counter, turning his attention from Caden to the bartender. Dean removed the ether once again and breathed lightly. (Too much was lethal and also caused major migraines.) Joel retrieved his tequila shot and carefully watched Caden use the inhalant.

Joel: Give me some.

Caden: You’ve had too much already.

Joel: Stop trying to be the innocent here! I bought the shi*t. Now give me some.

Caden furrowed his brow in anger and passed the medicine bottle to Joel. The tension seemed to linger between them as they sat ignoring one another for a few seconds. Joel slid the bottle back to Dean as well as passed him the beer.

Joel: So finish telling me about the old hag.

Caden: Evelyn wasn’t an old hag, and I just don’t feel like talking about it right now.

Joel eyed Caden curiously. His eyes fell over a new black leather jacket.

Joel: Did she buy you that?

Caden: Yeah, sorta.

Joel: She either did or she didn’t. Which is it?

Caden emptied the beer into his mouth. He slammed the bottle down in the same angry fashion that Joel did the money.

Caden: Don’t worry about it.

Joel: What the hell is your problem as of lately? Ever since you became a hotshot wrestler you’ve taken on an entire new role in this relationship. You can’t just go from being the bitch to carrying the balls.

Caden: Relationship? There isn’t a relationship! I’m not gay!

Joel: Oh whatever. Don’t try that straight guy bullsh*t with me.

Caden shook his head in disgust.

Caden: I only did half that crap because of you. You pimped me out to any dirty old coot with benjamins so you could support your addiction.

Joel: Which quickly became your addictions too.

Caden: No thanks to you. ‘Here Caden snort this, it’ll make your pain go away.’

Joel: You know you can take the boy out of the trailer park but you can’t take the trailer park out of the boy.

Caden slid off the barstool. His legs became jelly beneath him. He simply glared at Joel and walked towards the juke box that currently hummed out a sad hair band ballad. (Aren’t they all sad?) He pressed himself against the glass to keep his balance. Pressing the flip button he scanned the row of cds to find the perfect song. Korn-F*get. As the song’s intro began, the tap tap tap of boots behind him. He turned slowly feeling the nervous tension of eyes staring into his back. The smug look of a preppy cowboy surrounded by his colleagues and an attractive female stood awkwardly behind Caden.

Girl: Look, baby, someone let the freak out of his cage.

The group laughs.

Cowboy: Well if it isn’t Neville High School’s homo-freak wrestling hero.

Caden ignored him.

[Song: Him!
Here I am different in this normal world
Why did you tease me? Made me feel upset
Walking stereotypes feeding their heads
I am ugly. Please just go away]

Cowboy: Tell us Dean, is it the idea of hot sweaty men in spandex that gets you excited? Or the fact that you can now afford to buy the biggest crackrock in Texas for your family?

Caden selected his final song and turned to face the cowboy and his posse.

Caden: Nice.

He concentrated hard to keep his bearings as he began to walk towards the bar. The cowboy grabbed Dean’s left shoulder and jerked him back.

Cowboy: Slow down coke fiend. I’m not done talking to you.

[Him!
I can see inside you fine
This blessing in disguise
Him!
Why you treat me this way
Make the hate to stay]

Cowboy: Now the word on the street is you’ve left the meth lab and became a hotshot rassler. I don’t know who you are trying to fool, freak, but, you’ll always be a skank to me. Ain’t that right boys.

The other men agree. The attractive girl grins slyly.

Caden bowed his head lightly. The ether swam in his head blocking all attempts at complete concentration. The pulsating beat of the heavy metal attacked his train of thought like a rabid dog. He began to feel dodgy. Dean blinked nervously and out of anger. He felt as if he were trapped in a scene from “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.”

Caden Dean: That’s funny, Billy. You weren’t calling me skanky when you cornered me in the locker room for a bl*w j*b. But I suppose, someone as masculine as you doesn’t usually go around talking about their “gay fantasies.”

Anger swelled in the cowboy’s face as the rest of his posse and the girl looked him over shocked. Billy balled his fist tightly.

Caden: Oh, was I not supposed to say that aloud?

[A cell locked,
I can never see no escape
All the laughing, all the pain
If you were me, what would you do?
Nothing, probably. You'd just go on your way]

Girl: Billy, what the hell is he talking about?

Billy: He’s lying!

[Caden Dean]

Caden: That’s right Billy, stay in the closet.

And with that, Billy swung a clenched fist strongly towards Caden’s face. In a swift fall Caden doubled over in pain. Dean slid his hand to his lips. His lip was busted and the blood slowly began to pour into his mouth. Caden tensed and with all his might spit the blood back into the cowboy’s face, splattering it across his eyes and nose.

Cowboy Billy’s fury was unleashed as he began to lay into Caden, punch after punch until Dean toppled onto the floor. His lips bleeding, the pain rushed through his body as he stumbled slowly to his feet. By this time, the cowboys each were taking their turn serving Dean kick after kick into the stomach and legs with their pointed boots. Again he toppled. Indistinctly Joel yelled for the barman to call the cops or bouncers.

Again Caden shook off the pain and attempted to stand. The attractive girl slapped him against the back of his head causing him to again fall to his knees.

Cowboy: That’s where you belong, you f*cking f*g.

[F*get!

I'm just a pretty boy, whatever you call it
You wouldn't know a real man if you saw it
It keeps going on day after day, son
You fake, if we don't want none
I'm sick and tired of people treating me this way everyday
Who gives a f*ck?!?
Right now I got something to say to all the people that think I'm strange and I should be out of here locked up in a cage
You don't know what the hell is up now anyway
You got this pretty-boy feeling
Like I'm enslaved to a world that never appreciated sh*t
You can suck my d*ck and f*cking like it!!!]

With all his might Caden stood once more, a wild maniacal grin across his bleeding face. He first began to hum along with the song, and soon began to sing along. The cowboys ignored him as they stood amongst themselves cheering one another for a “job well done.”

Caden (softly): He had my gun but he had to find the money any say
He had my gun, but he had a body mighty anyway
He had my gun but he had to find the money don't wanna say
He had my gun, he had to find the money anyway

I'm just a pretty boy, I'm not supposed to f*ck a girl
I'm just a pretty boy, living in this f*cked up world

In one quick, shaky stretch he reached for an empty Budlight bottle and gripped it tightly by the neck. His singing grew louder and louder, as Cowboy Billy turned around to face him. It could have been the ether and alcohol, or the severe pain growing in his body, but Caden had the same miraculous fire that may have possessed him when Mazing had him down for the three count. CRACK! Dean shattered the bottle against the forehead of Cowboy Billy causing him to collapse in front of him.

Caden: All my life, who am I?!?
I'm just a f*get!
F*get!
I'm a f*get!
F*get!
I'm not a f*get!
You're motherf*ckin' qu**rs!

The girl screamed as Billy toppled over much like Caden had done. Joel finally came to the fight and grabbed Caden by the arm.

Joel: Come on! Let’s get out of here!

Girl: You freak! What the hell did you do to him?!

Caden wiped the blood from his lips and smeared it across the girl’s face. She screamed loudly causing the rest of the bar to silence. Caden laughed as Joel pulled him quickly from the bar and outside.

Joel: What the hell, man?!

Caden said nothing.

As they neared the car, Joel took what little ether had not evaporated and inhaled deeply. Caden sat a bloody mess away from him staring into the starless sky. His face was bruising and starting to swell as the sound of sirens began to wail far off in the distance.

Caden: As the old saying goes, only the strong survive. But as we have all witnessed, the weaker should never be ignored. What makes a man is not the amount of gold he has, nor the love of many women, it is not the accomplishments he has, nor is it the swell of his muscles. A man is made from the pain he has endured and the passion that drives him. He is only a man if he can withstand all the evil that the world has to offer.

The male mind is often clouded beyond repair with the lust of power and glory. Those who seek it are hungry like tapeworms feeding on the nutrients of others taking all and leaving none for anyone else. Even those such as I who are so humbled beyond their control lust for the respect that money and fame brings. I dare not blame them. Although it makes sense for a person to starve for affection, for respect, for authority; I loathe the man who holds his accomplishments on a pedestal.

Forty men enter a battle to the death, only one can win unless the last standing equally annihilates one another. Forty men enter a tournament, there can only be one winner. The “survival of the fittest.” Darwin’s theory, despite how evident it is, lacks greatly in the fact that all creatures, no matter how high or low on the food chain respond to threat in the same way. They seek to dominate their territory and claim their keepsake. They strive to drive the predator, or in this case, the predators from their very existence.

Forty men will each in turn enter the ring. But there can only be one winner. Each man will stand and envision the sparkle of the gold in the horizon as they plan their strategy to not be eliminated. Each in turn, they will punch and pound and grapple will all their might for the chance to toss another victim into the wind. They will destroy one another in the attempt to be the Alexander the Great of Valor. To stand a sole man in a Warfield of dead, lifeless bodies. Dead bodies that were murdered with defeat.

The winner will stand, exhausted, amazed, and wild eyed in front of millions, his mind tense from the stress of the match. He will cry with rejoice as fans scream in excitement. What a prize! To be the center of attention, to go on for a guaranteed title shot. It is no surprise that each opponent is giving their all towards focus and determination. The sad thing is, thrity-nine worthy victims will lie in a puddle of their own shame and humility as no one cheers them for anything. They will revert back to the average stage they had previously occupied before the rumble and act as if there was never a match to lose.

I cannot begin to express my feelings for the match. I am overwhelmed with happiness, fear, and regret. Three emotions that are so very new to me. I imagine myself winning that rumble and being cheered and idolized by all of Valor as the next possible champion, however I see the linger of track marks upon my arms and the beads of sweat from the xanax. I feel the itch of hydrocodone and the burn of the cocaine, and I cannot help but wonder why anyone would want a pathetic addict like myself as their champion.

Each night I walk down the ramp way, sober or not I hear the mixed reactions of the crowd. Some love me, others loathe me. Do I obsess over it, or do I ignore it? Caden Dean is not a champion at heart. He is a black sheep running among the white flock. It has always been that way and so shall it stay. Yet, in my dreams, I see the gold still. Could it possibly be that I have fried my mind so badly that I am so f*cked up as to believe that I could beat forty men for a chance at gold and glory?

The answer is yes. With another line, another joint, I cloud my mind from the horrors of my past and become a man. I say yes, Valor, someone as sick and twisted as the “gay” blow freak can climb the ladder of success. Forty men, one position. Sounds like a gay man’s ultimate nocturnal emission. Until Sunday, go back to sleep.

Joel grabs Caden’s arm and jerks him off the trunk of the vehicle. He yells something indistinctly and forces him into the car as the sound of the sirens grows louder. The car squeals out of the parking lot as the Dallas City Police roar into the parking lot.

[Seth Xavier]

I liked this alot. Very good work here. There is nothing to complain about.

[Reverend Shadow]

Awesome rp...I enjoyed him singing as he totally cracked that dude over the skull with the beer bottle...like said Seth said "no complaints"....keep up the good work...

Reverend Shadow