STARRING:
[Crossing The Atlantic: Season 3 - Chapter 006]
.:| “Failure To Communicae” |:.
The phone performed it’s merry little dance around the nightstand as Ryan Watson rolled over, dragged from his slumber at the sound of the iPhone’s persistant vibration against the wooden top of the bedside table. With a groan and eyes still gummed half shut, he reached out and clumsily groped around for the phone as it continued to do it’s little jig in time with the vibration. His mother. Again. The groan that came from his throat was louder this time; she had been bugging him now for days, all because the woman had a bee in her bonnet about a halloween event she was helping organise. His mother. Halloween! When he was a kid, the best his parents managed was to wrap him up in gauze bandages before sending him off to the cub scouts halloween party as a Mummy. They stayed fastened approximately half an hour before some fat ginger cunt called Davey has unravelled him and then roughed him up in the chaning room while everybody else was bobbing for apples in the courtyard. The whole notion of halloween in the UK was nothing but watered down Americanisation anyway and Ryan fucking hated the idea of it, even more so now that he had been living in the U.S for almost a decade, give or take a year or two. His old man had always sort of been into the occult and stuff; he wore a skull ring instead of a wedding ring and had done as long as Ryan could remember, and the skull and crossbones motif featured on a fair amount of the clothing that Charles Watson owned, but halloween had never been a big deal in the Watson household… so why the hell was Gillian Watson now taking an interest in the holiday, helping to organise a big community party for the local children?!
Okay, so it was a charity event and Gillian had started to get more and more involved with local charitable events and fundraisers since retiring, and in the community she and Charles lived, those fundraisers and events could be rather profitable for whatever charity had caught her eye this time around... but she had been relentlessly hounding Ryan for days, trying to get him involved too, and despite telling her that the schedule kept both him and Autumn busy for most of the week every week, Gillian was having none of it. She was well aware that the SCW tour schedule gave them ample time off following pay per view events and as the party would fall on Halloween, a few days after Under Attack, she seemed to refuse to take no for an answer.
It wasn’t as if Ryan wasn’t a charitable person; he made donations, each month to charties that were close to his heart, he got involved with good causes where time allowed and even did a couple of make a wish requests over the years - though there weren’t exactly many people begging for him to be involved in their own wishes given his reputation - but his mother needed to understand that he wasn’t just going to jump on the charity train of whatever event she was working at this time, no matter how much she tried to guilt him into doing so! Eventually fumbling his way towards his phone, he saw that it was indeed his mother, and with a slight pang of guilt, he turned the phone over so that it sat face down on the nightstand, an action which muted the vibrating but didn’t end the call. His mother would no doubt leave him - another - voicemail that he could ‘listen to later’. Maybe. But for now, he wanted nothing more to roll over and go back to sleep, warm and comfortable, next to his wife… only no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t drift off again. Ugh. So not only was his mother doing his box in about this stupid party, but now she was ruining his ability to sleep in on a lazy Monday morning, too? Brilliant. He gave it probably another fifteen minutes before finally sliding out of bed so as to not disturb Autumn’s sleep too, and slinked off to the bathroom down the hallway to get the necessities out of the way before making his way downstairs to switch on the coffee pot.
On the bright side, he had nothing on deck for the day, so it wasn’t as if his day was ruined by the fact that he couldn’t get back to sleep; if he really wanted, he could spend all day in his lounge pants and t-shirt and do as little as possible, so it wasn’t as if he had anything to be annoyed about really… but he also knew that his mother would probably try to call again, so he had to admit it was tempting to switch off his phone and plead ignorance rather than actively ignore the calls when they came through. Autumn appeared in the doorway to the kitchen just as the coffee pot clicked over and Ryan instinctively grabbed a second mug without her having to say anything. “I rolled over for cuddles and you weren’t there,” she explained as she sat down at the kitchen table, her words broken by a yawn that she tried to stifle with the back of her hand. “Not sleeping in on a monday? That’s not like you dude…”
“Aye, it weren’t through choice,” Ryan said as he grabbed the cream from the fridge and poured it into the two mugs. “Me mam’s at it again wi’ ‘er crackpot requests…”
“She’s still going on about that halloween thing?” Autumn asked, with eyebrow raised. “I mean, okay, great cause, happy to throw some money their way to pay for stuff or whatever, but she knows she isn’t gonna get you involved by now, right?”
Adding sugar and stirring, Ryan tossed the spoon down onto the kitchen counter before making his way over to join his wife at the table. “Woman’s too fuckin’ stubborn f’ ‘er own good,” he said, ignoring the look that Autumn gave him. It was a very knowing look though, which no doubt indicated that she believed the apple hadn’t fallen all that far from the tree when it came to stubborness. “Am sure a’ve teld ‘er a’bart fifty times at this point that am not interested in turnin’ up t’ some party for a bunch of snot nosed little shits in overpriced costumes that the parents bought ‘em just ‘cause mam’s got a bee in ‘er bonnet a’bart helpin’ organise stuff to gi’ ‘er summet t’ do…”
“Don’t hold back dude, tell it how it is,” Autumn said, smirking as she took her coffee from the table top and cradled it in both hands.
“Well I ain’t wrong love,” he said, mirroring his wife with his own coffee. “All’a this bollocks only started becomin’ a problem when she packed work in an’ decided to live as a retiree, dint it? She’s lookin’ f’ shit t’ do t’ fill ‘er time, an’ dad fuckin’ encourages it ‘cause it keeps ‘er art’a ‘is ‘air enough t’ gi’ ‘im some peace!” he added, shaking his head before taking a sip from the mug in his hands, an audible sigh of satisfaction escaping his lips before he looked back at Autumn again. “An’ the more barmy her fuckin’ stuff gets, the more she tries an’ drags us into it an’ all, but he gets away wi’ it the jammy bastard!”
“To be fair though, your dad may not be the best person for the job,” Autumn said, playfully. “I mean, I love your dad, you know that dude, but come on… his weed intake would probably rival Snoop Dog and he has a pretty grown up sense of humor at times, too. Do you really see him helping out at a kids halloween party?”
“...fair point,” Ryan said, laughing. His father was definitely of a type that maybe wasn’t ideal for certain social functions, he had to concede that. At the same time though, he just wished that it was good time Charlie that was the one being pestered for a change, instead of him. “But it’d be nice if she even thought a’bart buggin’ him f’ once, y’ know? Am tired’a havin’ t’ find excuses t’ not get involved wi’ stuff, a really am… am runnin’ art’a ‘em!”
“Well, I know it’s a novel idea, but you could just help out at one of these things to keep her quiet?” Autumn offered, taking a sip from her mug before placing it back down on the table. “I mean, if you just help out at one, surely that’s going to be enough to placate her and then you get some respite from all the requests?” she asked, as on cue Ryan’s phone began to dance in circles on the table between them again and both of them looked down to see the word ‘Mam’ on the screen, coupled with her phone number.
“Why waint she tek no f’ a bloody answer?!” Ryan asked as he flipped his phone face down for the second time that day; he realised he was being irrational, that it wasn’t like he had to hide away from the calls, but it was more a point of principle now. The call earlier that morning had set him down a path that - for the rest of the day - he simply didn’t want to deviate from. As Autumn had hinted at, Ryan had picked up his mother’s stubbornness, whether he liked to admit that or not. “See what a mean?!” he asked Autumn, shaking his head. “Second phone call in’t space of a’bart half an ‘our… this is why a dunt offer t’ ‘elp, ‘cause a know if a do it once, am gonna be volunteered automatically f’ everythin’ she gets involved in later on… an’ a know it meks me a shitty person but fuck that, love. A’ve enough on me plate as it is, wi’ art havin’ more shite piled onto it.”
“Looking at it from your mom’s perspective though dude, I can see why she wants you to get involved,” Autumn said, playing devils advocate. “Or why she wants both of us on board, I guess? Most of the things she gets involved in are charity based, and she knows for a fact that we have at least a bit of star power thanks to what we do… she just wants to try and use that for the good of whatever cause she’s involved with, you know?”
“Then you go to this thing an’ i’ll look after the ‘ouse or go see me old man,” Ryan said, pointedly.
Autumn’s eyes widened at the mere suggestion and she shook her head. “Oh, god, no. Fuck no. Nuhuh,” she said, waving her hands sideways. “No way dude, I’m not that stupid!”
“But you want me to be!” Ryan threw back at her, though he was smirking when he said it.
“Well if the cap fits dude,” Autumn told her husband with a grin, getting the vee’s flipped at her from Ryan’s free hand as he took another sip of his coffee. “Do you even know what she wants from you this time? I know it’s some halloween thing, but what if she just wants like, signed merch or whatever? Or money to buy some stuff? We can definitely do that sort of thing…”
“It aint,” Ryan said with a shake of his head as he put his coffee back down. “She wants us both t’ go t’ the thing, celebrity guests, that kinda bollocks… so we’d be spendin’ god knows how long, puttin’ up wi’ little shits screamin’, pokin’ an’ proddin’ us, parents makin’ small talk that neither of us wanna ‘ave owt to do wi’... bollocks t’ that!” he said emphatically and Autumn agreed. It did sound like their idea of hell, even if it was for different reasons for the two of them.
“Alright, so we just tell her we have plans,” Autumn suggested, spitballing. “The party’s halloween night, yeah? So we just tell her we already have something planned… we can tell her we’re going to Sienna’s ‘Kelcey’ pity-party! That would work!”
“Can’t,” Ryan replied, sadly. “Already mentioned in passin’ that ad rather start supportin’ Arsenal than go t’ that pile’a shite when she asked if we’d med any plans…”
“Fuck,” Autumn replied, dejected. But then her face brightened. “Zoe’s birthday! It’s the day after; could tell her she’s having a combined Halloween and birthday party on the thirty first; that fixes things, right?”
“Would do if in’t same conversation - all before she told me about this party she were helpin’ throw - a dint tell her we weren’t doin’ anythin’ on Halloween this year,” Ryan said, once again blocking Autumn’s idea off at the pass.
“But that doesn’t mean she can’t have organised something since you had that conversation!” Autumn reasoned, and it was a reasonable suggestion, but for some reason, Ryan found it weighed on his conscience less to simply ignore his mothers calls and refuse to get involved than he would to tell a little white lie, which he explained to Autumn after she suggested the fib in the first place. “Alright, so no lies, fine… but you can’t spend the entire day just ignoring her. And Halloween is more than a week away, yet!” she reasoned, trying to convince him to just answer the phone when it rang again.
But that stubbornness was on display for all to say. “Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “A mean, am not gonna let it gu on until halloween or owt, but… well, a just want a fuckin’ day off, y’ know? So f’ t’day… am just gonna ignore it. Al ring her in’t mornin’ an’ tell ‘er f’ the last time that am not gettin’ involved. Al offer to send ‘er some signed photos or summet t’ use as prizes… not that little kids are gonna be interested in owt but stuffin’ their gobs wi’ sweets but there we go,” Ryan said, shrugging before standing up and grabbing his mug from the table. “Rate, am gonna pour me sen another coffee then am gonna get a shower an’ sort me sen art an’ then how about me an’ you go art an’ do summet, eh?” he asked, walking over to the coffee pot.
“Sure, sounds good dude,” Autumn replied, pushing out from the table herself. “I’d better go jump in the shower myself then, not that I have any fucks to give about looking presentable to the outside world, right?” she asked with a grin and Ryan laughed.
“Too rate love,” he said as he poured himself a fresh mug of jove. “Though between me an’ thee, a kinda do gi’ a fuck a’bart the fact a stink’a sweat at the minute, so a think am gonna shower regardless… y’ know, f’ me own sake rather than any other cunt,” he said, grinning back at his wife, who just chuckled at him as she headed out of the kitchen to go back upstairs. Armed with a fresh cup of coffee, Ryan followed her upstairs not thirty seconds later, fully planning to take advantage of the double shower in the master bathroom by jumping in there with Autumn. Who said married life wasn’t awesome?
One slightly longer than normal shower later and a fast attempt at getting ready - which was never easy with that much hair involved - and they headed out for quite a pleasant day, all things considered. Ryan had managed to convince Autumn to leave her phone at him along with his, so that they could have some peace and quiet. They did some shopping and ate lunch at a little traditional chinese restaurant tucked out of the way down a back street and once Autumn stopped worrying about not having her phone with her, the day improved. It wasn’t that Autumn was the type to be glued to her phone or anything, but she was a worrier. What if they broke down or got a flat, how would they call triple-A and other such questions occupied her thought process for a while until Ryan pointed out there were plenty of emergency phones or pay phones around and that she needed to chill out. They were in walking distance of home if needs be and they could always grab a cab or an Uber back home to get their phones if they had to. She drew the line at lunch and shopping though; Ryan had suggested they went to the movies while out so that they could finally get to see The Joker but Autumn refused, saying maybe they could head back out that evening but she wasn’t in the mood for it. He didn’t push too much because he didn’t want her thinking he was literally just making excuses to be out of the house and away from his phone despite it being pretty obvious that that was the case. With no other ways of stalling that weren’t just super in your face obvious though, Ryan had no choice but to concede defeat and agree that they should head home.
“Am gonna look up cinema times when we get back in’t house,” Ryan said as they pulled back onto the driveway at their house, Ryan’s Nova parked in front of the garage as Autumn pulled up behind it and put her own car into park. “We can either gu see an’ earlier showin’ an’ eat after or maybe do food first then the flick… am easy either way,” he added as he climbed out of the car and went to the trunk to grab the bags. They hadn’t spent much, but while Ryan may be the Gobshite of Professional Wrestling he still held a few traditional values and believed in the idea of being the one to carry stuff into the house. A Gentleman? Gobshiteman? Gentle Gobshite? Who knows, but whatever the answer is, he was one!
“I’m still full from lunch, dude!” Autumn said as they reached the door and Autumn unlocked it for them. “So I definitely say we eat after the movie… I may be hungry by that point, hopefully…”
“Works f’ me, love,” he replied, stepping over the threshold, closing the door behind him with his foot. “Al just grab plenty’a snacks before we gu in. Nacho’s or maybe a hotdog…”
“Gotta have popcorn babe,” Autumn told him as she tossed her keys down into the bowl on top of the sideboard right there in the hallway. “Though if you start throwing it at people again during the trailers, I’ll--”
“Not gi’ a fuck a’bart it?” Ryan interjected, playfully. He winked at her with a smug grin on his face and Autumn just rolled her eyes before laughing as she headed into the kitchen and Ryan followed with their bags. “Coffee?” Ryan asked as he placed the bags on the table and made his way over to the pot.
“Please. Decaf though,” she said as she sat down in the same chair she’d occupied that morning. “I’m already a little wired, I don’t think I should have any more caffeine today,” she added and Ryan was going to argue that decaf was the most evil invention every created but he thought better of it and made to fix their drinks. He didn’t get far though. “Holy fuck!” Autumn exclaimed and he turned back around to see her staring at his phone, her own unlocked on the table in front of her too as she looked up at Ryan.
“What?” he asked, wondering what the hell could have her shout at the way she had.
“Dude, you have twenty two missed calls and three voice mails!” she said, sounding more than a little shocked. “And it’s not just your phone either, your mom’s called me five times too, though she hasn’t left me any messages,” she added, placing her own phone back down on the table to lift Ryan’s again. “You should listen to her messages baby, they may be important…”
She held the phone out to him to take as he approached the table but he didn’t reach out for it. “Nah, it’ll just be ‘er tryin’ t’ get me to agree t’ that halloween thing, waint it?” he said, finally taking the phone but simply placing it back down on the table again. “Voicemails tellin’ me a’bart summet that’s happenin’ or someone that’s comin’ or whatever, tryin’ t’ convince me that it’d mek a difference if we went along an’ all… teld y’ this mornin’ love, al call ‘er in’t mornin’,” he finished before turning to go back to the kitchen counter to make their drinks.
“I dunno dude, I think you should see what she actually wants,” Autumn said, sounding worried now. He didn’t understand why, he knew what the calls would be about; it would be his mother, taking another crack at pestering him into getting involved in this party, trying to convince him how helpful it would be or how beneficial. He wasn’t an idiot and this wasn’t his first rodeo dealing with his mothers ‘retirement activities’ either. “Look,” Autumn continued. “If it is just more of the same, you can tell her again that we can’t do it and that’s that, right? But it’s your mom, dude! She’s more stubborn than you are, so the more you ignore her, the more she’s gonna--” she went on before cutting off and staring at Ryan’s phone. Ryan turned to look at the table as Autumn looked at the screen. “It’s your mom. Again!”
“Just leave it,” Ryan said, frowning but it was too late.
“I’m answering it,” Autumn said and Ryan made to lunge forward to stop her but before he could, Autumn hit the green button and tapped the speakerphone button straight after and there wasn’t anything Ryan could do about it after that. “Hi Gillian, it’s Autumn. Sorry, we just saw your calls now, we’ve not been home all day and didn’t take our phones out with us,” she said, looking up at Ryan to shrug at him, shooting him an expression that said she hoped it was believable enough. “Ryan’s here with me, he’s just making coffee and was going to call you back once we were settled. Is everything okay?”
Ryan closed his eyes and sighed; he was expecting his mother’s usual chirpy voice to come through the speaker, shrill and enthusiastic as ever, so when she spoke and sounded like she was full of cold and much quieter than usual, he was caught off guard. “Thank goodness I’ve finally managed to get ahold of you both,” Gillian Watson said, her voice thick and heavy, not at all like her normal self. “I was starting to worry that… that something may… oh Ryan, are you there darling?” she asked and Autumn and Ryan shared a confused look as Ryan edged closer to the table to sit down across from his wife and Autumn slid the phone closer to them.
“Am ‘ere mam,” he said, brow furrowed. “Sorry a missed y’ calls, but like Autumn said, we’ve bin art f’ the day an’ a’ve only just looked at me phone. Were gonna call y’ as soon as--”
“Ryan darling, sorry but I need you to be quiet for a moment, okay?” Gilian said, interrupting her son mid-flow as she sniffed deeply. “Darling, I have some news for you and I don’t want you to do anything silly until I’ve finished but you’re going to want to get in the car straight away, okay?”
Ryan looked up at Autumn and his brow was heavily creased now, he was so confused about what on earth was going on. “Gillian, what’s going on?” Autumn asked, trying to be the voice of calm as Ryan appeared to be visibly thrown by the whole situation.
“It’s… it’s…” Gillian stammered from the other end of the phone, clearly having trouble collecting her thoughts, which struck Ryan as strange because his mother has been a barrister before retirement, so was more than adept at speaking out loud. “It’s your father, Ryan.”
“Dad?” Ryan asked, still not following what the hell was going on. “What’s he done, nar? If he’s drunk an’ tryin’ t’ climb the tree again, tell him--”
“No, he’s not drunk,” Gillian said, interrupting her son for a second time. “He’s… Ryan, your father has had a… he’s had a heart attack.”
“Guess ad better get this thing set up, ain’t a?” Ryan said as he removed his phone from charge and straightened up to look at Autumn who sat on the edge of the bed in their hotel suite in St. Louis. The pair were in town for Under Attack the following night, where they would get their chance at regaining the SCW World Tag Team Championships in a rematch from their match at Apocalypse where they lost the belt to Twin Magic to begin with. The last week had been a whirlwind for both Ryan and Autumn, even if they hadn’t been on the road following Ryan’s call to head office to request they receive a pass for Breakdown that week, which they unconditionally granted as soon as they found out why it was being requested but now they had to get their game faces on again. Ryan had helped Autumn film her promo earlier in the week - ‘helped’ being the optimum word, because that statement was up for debate - but he himself hadn’t been able to get his head into the game at all and as a result, he had practically left it to the metaphorical last minute. It was so late in fact, that they wouldn’t be able to edit it now anyway because all the editing was done on an iMac back home, so Ryan’s only choice was a Youtube live broadcast from their hotel. “Al set the stream up then tweet the link art, see if anybody’s bothered a’bart watchin’... not that it matters either way, like, but it’d be nice to at least get a few people checkin’ it art…”
“Are you trying to tell me that you give a fuck about audience numbers?” Autumn teased, smirking at him. “Because that’s kind of off-message of you, isn’t it?” she teased and Ryan rolled his eyes before grinning.
“Couldn’t care less, love…” he replied, shrugging. “But if am gonna be wastin’ me time doin’ this, least a can do is make a couple’a knobheads laugh wi’ me insult game, ain’t it? Besides, who knows what might get trendin’ on twitter that we can turn into t-shirts an’ grab a few more quid each month?”
“Yeah, because money is something we struggle for,” Autumn said with a laugh. It was true that they definitely weren’t struggling, not with Autumn’s inherited wealth anyway… but it also wasn’t as if they went out and splashed the cash with reckless abandon either. They lived within the means of their paychecks, even if they could afford to live a far more luxurious lifestyle should they choose to do so. “But you’re right, more merch is always good. Even if it’s just free real estate for our careers…”
“Aye, exactly love,” Ryan said, though his attention was turned to the phone in his hand instead of his wife as he tried to navigate through the menu system on the Youtube app in order to go live, or at least set up the stream. He was so deep in thought that his tongue was poking out between his lips as he tried to get his head around it and in the end Autumn took pity on him and jumped up from the bed to snatch the phone from him.
“You can literally edit videos using Adobe, work photoshop and god knows what else, but you can use the youtube app?” she asked, laughing as Watson grinned sheepishly back at her. “Okay, here. That’s the link, tweet that out. Then come back to Youtube and hit that button there, which will start the stream. Got that?”
“Got it love,” Watson said with a nod, holding his thumb down on the screen to copy the link. He switched to the twitter app and rattled off a quick tweet to drive some traffic to the video and then went back to Youtube in order to get the ball rolling.
[[START STREAMING]]
“Y’orate dickheads?” Watson asks, once the screen begins to show that he’s broadcasting live to his subscribers. Autumn, now sat back on the bed again, has her iPad open viewing the viewer feed on his broadcast with the volume turned off. It’s already ammassing viewers. “So as y’ can see, we’ doin’ shit a bit dif’rent this week, ‘cause am gonna be honest, between me an’ thee, it’s bin one’a them weeks where a can honestly seh a’ve not been in’t best frame’a mind as far as me works been concerned. Y’ might’a noticed that me an’ me mrs weren’t on Breakdarn this week, while the ginger ningers were theer flappin’ the gums a’plenty a’bart ‘s upcoming match tomorrow neet in’t Enterprise Center here in St. Louis. Oh aye, a f’got t’ mention that that’s where I am at ‘minute, dint a? Aye, me an’ are lass are holed up ‘ere in us hotel suite, ready f’ what’s t’ come t’morrow neet when we get a chance t’ reclaim what’s ours… but before a get t’ that stuff, a were explainin’ why a’ve not been in’t rate frame’a mind, weren’t a?” he asks, sighing as he walks to the couch and takes a seat, still holding his phone out at arms length, already conscious that his arm was quickly going to start aching. How he wished he’d brought a selfie stick or that he’d decided to use Autumn’s iPad instead of his phone! “So, wi’ out draggin’ things on longer’n they need t’ be, this monday just gone, me old man Charles, who a know a fair few’a you twats follow on twitter, he were admitted t’ one’a Los Angeles’ many hospitals - not gonna be doxxin’ me old man so don’t bother waitin’ for me to mention which’n - after sufferin’ a pretty bloody big ‘eart attack. Am not gonna go into detail, but it’s fair t’ say that it pretty much knocked me f’ six an’ obviously unless y’ a fuckin’ moron, y’ can understand why a weren’t in a rush t’ get a promo filmed in’t usual manner in which a normally would f’ one’a me matches in SCW. A know the production values taken a bit’a a kickin’, goin’ from professional home studio setup t’ filmed on an iPhone eleven straight art’a me hotel suite, but am sure y’ can deal wi’ it f’ one video an’ if not, well a’ve got Zero fucks t’ gi’ a’bart y’ opinion anyroad, so fuck off,” he says, smirking as he settles into his seat to get comfortable.
“Again, between me an’ thee, a were pretty tempted t’ not bother even doin’ one’a these things,” he admits, now that he’s settled into his seat and managed to find a position that made holding the phone at least reasonably comfortable. “A mean, it ain’t like a really owe them two cunts owt anyroad, is it? An’ as f’ you twats watchin’ this, well fair enough, a wunt wanna deprive y’ of me rapier wit in’t long term, but after what happened wi’ me old man earlier this week, am guessin’ most’a y’ would at least gi’ it a few moments of consideration an’ figure it were a valid enough excuse, even if some’a y’ would probably still be dickhead’s a’bart it… say what y’ want a’bart me though, but what a definitely am is ‘onest, so if y’ were wonderin’ where a were while the ginners were talkin’ shite wi’ impunity, that explains it,” he offers by way of explanation, and while Ryan knows he didn’t owe anybody anything in terms of explaining his and Autumn’s absence, it being out there covers his arse down the road. “Wi’ that said though, am not ‘ere for bleedin’ ‘earts, am a? Am ‘ere t’ adress a match comin’ up t’morrow an’ let’s be ‘onest, it’s one that’s gonna be givin’ me an’ are lass a chance to write a wrong or two, ain’t it? ‘Cause what ‘appened at Apocalypse, that weren’t the rate endin’ were it? No, believe it or not dickheads, that weren’t the rate endin’ for a match in this company, ‘cause there ain’t no way in ‘ell that a fruitcake an’ ‘er prude sister should be beatin’ a team the likes’a me an’ Autumn in even so much as a game’a Mario Kart, let alone a match for the World tag titles! An’ that’s not t’ say that the two’a them ain’t well rounded wrestlers… well, Marie maybe. Ain’t nothin’ well-rounded a’bart the psychotic one Kim, she’s nuttier than squirrel shit after said squirrel somehow found him in a peanut packin’ factory. An’ t’ be honest, ad question Marie’s sanity an’ all, if we’re bein’ completely ‘onest a’bart everythin’, ‘cause any cunt that thinks Tommy Cook is worthy of even a quick shag let alone bein’ in a relationship wi’ should probably go an’ get their ‘ead examined, y’ know what a mean?”
“But the say love’s blind, dunt they?” Ryan continues, not missing a beat. “So maybe that’s what the crack is; t’old Marie is just overdue on her trip t’ the opticians or optomotrist or whatever the fuck y’ call it over ‘ere, an’ when she’s got her new prescripton filled art, she’ll drop that brummie sack of shit faster than it’d tek t’ say it’s not me it’s you! An’ trust me, a know which way around a just said that… but at least Marie’s got ‘er looks goin’ for ‘er, Tommy Cook ain’t got fuck all, has he?” he says with a smirk, getting a kick out of mocking someone that he has never gotten along with since the early days of his indy career in England, when he worked a few shows for Tommy’s father, Arthur. “But am meant t’ be talkin’ a’bart the match ain’t a, not the love life’a one’a the twats am gonna be facin’... though a think it’s a fittin’ segue t’ be ‘onest, ‘cause a wanna know how the fuck someone like Kimberly Williams passes her fuckin’ psychiatric evaluations in order to work ‘ere in’t first place! Seriously, as much as a don’t wanna pay attention to a fuckin’ word that comes art’a the gob of Sienna Swann, Bree Lancaster etcetera, maybe Sasha D’s brain really is fuckin’ addled an’ she ain’t thinkin’ straight anymore… anyone’d think she’s been cracked in’t ‘ead wi’ a chair or summet, for every allowin’ someone like Kim to work ‘ere, puttin’ not just the poor bastards she tries t’ staple in danger, but all that shite a’bart throwin’ stuff at old people? Fuck me, heaven forbid some old timer decides to check art a show… though come t’ think a’bart it, maybe thats a tactic to employ against ‘er; plant a load of codgers in’t front row an’ watch ‘er get distracted like a magpie wi’ summet shiny… hey Autumn, we know any old people?” he asks, looking over at Autumn, but after a second she shakes her head and Ryan snaps his fingers on his free hand. “Bollocks… an’ it felt like such a foolproof plan too!” he adds before smirking briefly.
“Jokin’ aside for a minute though, let’s tek a minute to appreciate that decision of Sasha’s, shall we?” Ryan says, dropping the smug grin and going serious. “We do have evaluations done, I can stand - or sit - as evidence of that ‘cause a’ve bin through the process every time a’ve had a physical before signin’ a contract… so why the fuck is SCW lettin’ people like ‘er in then, eh? She ain’t just an ‘azzard to ‘erself, but the rest’a us an’ all, which is pretty fuckin’ insultin’ of Sasha as far as am concerned, ‘cause it showed she don’t realy gi’ a fuck a’bart the welfare’a the people in ‘er employ. Shouldn’t shock me really though; profit over employee satisfaction, ain’t that just the way’a the fuckin’ world at this point?! An’ ‘ey, at least it ain’t IWC… ‘cause that place, a’bart ninety percent’a the fuckin’ roster were just like Kim, bat shit crazy in every way, so maybe a shouldn’t complain too loudly, all things considered. But am sayin’ it nar, an’ I ‘ope the ref of our match is listenin’ t’ this… if that ginner twat comes near me wi’ a staple, am kickin’ ‘er straight in’t cunt, an’ y’ can disqualify me if y’ want, but no bint is stapplin’ me, where it be in a match or not!” he states, no trace of humour. It seems he is deadly serious and it shows. “Thing I find funny though… is how different these two idntical twins come across, y’ know? A mean, one’s foot lose an’ fancy free an’ the other’s got a stick up ‘er arse. One’s bat shit crazy an’ the other one’s a’bart as vanilla as y’ can get. If they din’t look exactly the same, ad never ‘ave guessed they were related, ‘cause the difference is fuckin’ staggerin’! Least it must’a bin easy for t’old Angie when she were draggin’ the pair of em up; need t’ tell em apart? Just figure art which’n it were that she dropped on their ‘ead as a baby an’ y’ sorted!”
“As a said though, am not gonna sit ‘ere an’ mek art that Twin Magic ain’t talented,” he continues, managing to keep his smirking to a bare minimum as he speaks. “Wi’ a list’a accomplishments as long as the one’s that the two’a them ‘ave, i’d be ‘ard pressed to sell that as bein’ the truth, wunt a? Tag champs in two or three companies nar, ain’t it? Thing is… as good as they are? We’re better. Don’t care if y’ reckon that them beatin’ us at Apocalypse goes against that, ‘cause we all know that any team is capable’a ‘avin’ an off neet… but when push comes t’ shove, am gonna back me an’ Autumn ten out’a nine times in this business, an’ t’morrow neet, it’s our opportunity t’ not just get back what’s ours, but t’ do it emphatically an’ all. See, Twin Magic may ‘ave bin waitin’ a while t’ get their ‘ands on them belts, an’ maybe our fuck up helped ‘and em to em, all nice an’ gift wrapped t’ boot… but it weren’t a gift, we were just lettin’ ‘em know what it feels like t’ be important f’ a while, an’ now it’s time to gi’ ‘em back, ladies! ‘Cause let’s face it, this divison is in need’a representatives that’re somewhat original, that can stand art… an’ bein’ a twin ain’t fuckin’ owt anymore, seens as you ain’t even the only twins in the company let alone the business… an’ as f’ magic, am gonna suggest y’ leave that bollocks to Hairy Twatter at Universal Studios, ‘cause what you two twats do ain’t magic, it’s just the occasional bout of cheatin’ when one’a y’ pretends t’ be t’other one, an’ people judge us if we act a bit naughty, but you two ginners get cheered? Fuck off” he shouts, adding extra emphasis to the final two words just to make sure his point is well and truly made. “But while a’ve got y’ attention ladies, lemme be frank f’ a minute… dunt worry Kim, you can still be Kim, it ain’t a game’a music name swaps or owt like that. What am gettin’ at anyroad, is that if y’ wanna spend y’ time runnin’ around wi’ tubby startin’ y’ own church, tellin’ people t’ worship y’, then so be it. That’s f’ you t’ decide. An’ thee, Marie; if y’ wanna rush off organisin’ some fuckin’ rally or protest or whatever then fine, knock y’ sen art love, ‘am sure there’s a lesser spotted donkey monkey somewhere on’t planet that’ll be thankful for it… but while you’re poncing around doin’ all this daft shit, wanna know what we’re doin’? Preparin’ t’ win! Bustin’ our arses, trainin’ harder’n ever, gettin’ ready t’ tek back our titles! An’ when that bell rings, we’re gonna prove that lightnin’ don’t strike twice. Think a’bart that, lasses… think a’bart that while y’ enjoy y’ last twenty four hours as champs… ‘cause when that bell does ring t’morrow neet? We’ll be turnin’ Twin Magic into Twin Tragic… ‘cause that’s what y’ reign as champs is gonna be, how it’s gonna end. In tragedy. Mark me words on it! So says the gospel accordin’ t’ the Gobshite… amen!” he says, winking at the camera before thumbing the stop button to end the live stream.
[[STOP STREAMING]]
“Well, that’ll do,” Ryan said, once the feed had ended and he could put his phone down. It was an unusual experience for him, not having to then sit at a computer and edit everything; that was the blessing and curse of streaming live. Yes, there was nothing to edit afterwards, but at the same time you had to get it right the first time because there’s no edits and no re-takes. “Wunt wanna do that every week like, but considerin’ the week we’ve ‘ad, it’ll do…”
“You did well baby, under the circumstances,” Autumn told him as she climbed off of the end of the bed and wandered over to the couch where Ryan was sat. “I was viewing the chat, you actually got a couple of donations, so I guess you had some people who agreed with something you said… few people poking fun at you too, but it was the stereotypical british jokes for the most part. Not that we give a fuck anyway, right?” she asks and Ryan simply shrugged.
“Never really cared what Joe Bloggs thinks a’bart me t’ be ‘onest, love.” he told her as Autumn dropped down onto the couch next to him, curling up against him. He threw an arm around her shoulder so they could settle in together. “Long as a’ve got the rate people in me life supportin’ me, fuck what the rest think…”
“Like you said dude; amen,” Autumn said with a grin and Ryan leant down to kiss her on the top of the head before he slouched into the sofa a little more, truly getting comfortable. Only twenty four more hours before everything he and Autumn said was put to the test. Put up or shut up time… hopefully not the latter…