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John_Black · **10-15-2026, 06:15 PM**

[One day, it was a measly Monday morning. It was a cool 7am and JB was taking a walk around the block, then he noticed a crime scene not too far from the area he was heading towards. He noticed bullet casings on the ground and a few bodies on the concrete, so the police arrived to tape up the scene.]

[Then the same woman whom he had slight issues with came up to scream up to crime scene. Time passes, and the lady opens up the white sheet and it was Plumboi shot up to the body and dome.]

Policeman: Is this your son ma'am

Mother: yes, he is…

Policeman: he was involved with a gang shooting at 5am, did you know where we were going to be that morning?

[Under the sobs and choking on her throat, shook her head no. Feeling defeated, then the Policeman asked if she knew her son had close ties to anyone. Then she saw me in the crowd, and brought me to her son's body.]

Woman: you did this!... you!

JB: I didn't do a thing to him ma'am, he made his own choice to be involved with a shooting.

Woman: You!.... you pushed him to the streets, you are scum!

[Then she proceeded to slap him in the face, instead of reacting he fell back into the crowd, trying to keep his cool. Then I see the last of Plumboi being wheeled off into the morgue.]

[Two weeks pass, and JB was at the club with Mikki and Jon Jon, who are dressed to flex on the hos, while JB was in sweater and jeans and a jacket, looking withdrawn from the scene. As his two peeps where on the dance floor getting curved by the said hos, they came up to him sitting alone of the club.]

Jon Jon: Man you've been sitting at this spot since we showed up, what's the matter with you?

Mikki: Yeah, what's up?.... you aren't your usual mack daddy self tonight!

JB: Just got lots of shit in my mind… this rent…car note…

[Mikki and Jon Jon laugh.]

Jon Jon: Bruh, aren't you doing that wrestling shit cuz?...i thought you be making dough!?

Mikki: You know full well that isnt cutting, and you been in it for what two decades now?... that's a lie, let me guess that shooting gang shit got in your head, the kid had it coming.

[JB slammed his glass down, and grabbed Mikki by his shirt ready to unload his fist on his dome, but Jon calmed him down as he let his shirt go. Suddenly, a Ving Rhymes looking man in a suit comes to the table and looks at Mikki and Jon. Those two were scared as JB looked in the dudes direction.]

Tuff Dude: You three need to leave this spot, this table is reversed for High rollers. You three aren't it…who you lookin at night?

JB: You, by the way you are dressed like a failed pimp from the 70s. You want your table you can have your table, you wannabe G.

[As he gets up from the chair the leader draws a gun out on em, and JB didn't balk he just stood there.]

JB: Feelings hurt?.... pull the trigger, let's end this night where you go to prison and I go to the morgue bitch.

Tuff Dude: You got a def wish or sumthin?...

[Suddenly the same woman who put his hands on him earlier, is the one to stop him. He realized something was twisted.]

Woman: Don't you dare put a bullet in this punk he's the one who made my son get killed.

Tuff Dude: That's low for you sucka, why do you do such a thing?

JB: I ain't got shit to explain, im out this place. Mikki and Jon, you both can suck this man dick im heading home!

[As he left the club, he was walking home since he left his hoopty at the apartment. As he was walking down the street, he kept on replaying the crime scene, his interaction with the kid. Then he starts to scream into the sky like a mad man being stressed. Some passersby run off thinking “wtf is up with dude”, then he decides to go to a 24/7 McDonalds to order a large fries, water and a cheeseburger. As he eats his junky meal, he decides to use his voice recorder on his cell phone to speak into it.]

JB: Here’s my deal, I kinda feel bad. I shouldn't because it isn’t my child, hell i had a wife and son once but… shit went sideways for them. I guess for me, losing that rec center made me realize that I needed to be able to be an important pillar for the community, but that ended up not being the case. I should have just made a choice to not be involved, let him be apart of my life knowing full well that I am not much a good influence, but what the fuck do i know?

Maybe, being a good person might not be in the cards for me, maybe that’s why when I saw his body on that sheet, it made me understand that tryin to be a good person can't be a thing at all in these streets. This is a callin, a callin 'to be withdrawn from the world of Baltimore and it’s hood bullshit, maybe I should move outside of it and live in a suburbia with the white folks with HOA being houndogs over grass not being cut, and all that shit.

Fuck that, give me landlord who’d be hollerin at me for not givin my rent at the first of the month, than to deal with letters in the mail from HOA. Speakin of letters in the mail, I ended up getting a check up to 100 bucks compared to whom I faced last Warfare ago, and I guess being number 32 in the rankings still means I'm low on the totem pole of getting my proper payment. Luckily my downside is till 3 to 4 racks a month, bonus if i put on a suit and be a “producer” of a match or two on the low, but that isn’t in my mind right now.

What is on my mind right now is this Deacon Saint John, who I guess is a deacon by day and wrestler by night…

Well it don’t matter if i shed my sins in a booth, or in a confessional its all going to fall on deaf ears to those whom may listen, so to be honest i guess being in the opener against him is ideal so i can fuck right off to my hotel, and mentally prepare myself to find my self in Raccoon City before a delay on the flight, or the umbrella corps decide to nuke that fucker up. From playing the 1st RE game on my PS1… to being in that city itself.

In a way, I'm the nemesis of the ring where no matter what bullets, knives, tampons, or even a rocket launcher can’t kill me off. I won’t or hope to god i don’t end up having mutant transformation, but if i do let it be against my own Jill sandwich eatin, E-001 fuckin, Saint John who don’t know who he is dealing as we reach to next monday. All i will say is that by the time im done with him, i won’t inject him with T-Virous, but what i will do is make suffer hard and make him feel so much pain that he’d end up as a guinea pig for that corp, turn himself away from God into being one who’d get killed off with a launcher to the chest.

Enough wit my Resident Evil boner, i want to go in that ring and beat that Deacon up in a way that it shows that i don’t fuck around, even if i don’t win or get the props…i need to let off my anger away from the streets from Baltimore for awhile.

JB out.

[He turns off his recorder, and finishes his meal, and cleans up his table and heads out to head home as the scene fades off.]

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