“Crack! Goes Your Skull.” I.

[Jace O'Brien]

“Crack! Goes Your Skull.”

“THE SUMMER PLACE”

The name on the sign read. A dive bar located in San Francisco.  Inside we find Riley Calix and Jace O’Brien at the bar. This was a hangout of theirs. A bar they frequented after events put on by their former employer, So-Cal Ultraviolent. When they took their usual spots at the bar, the barkeep almost immediately placed down their drinks.

“I can’t believe her. Fucking leading me on this entire time and then has the nerve to flash that fucking ring at me.” Riley seethed. He had a thing for Arianny, why else would he spend so much timehanging out with the “Mafia” without Jace? Riley took a long swig from his bottle. Jace’s mug was full, his hand wrapped around it. “Relax bruv. You took home that other tart last night.” Jace drank.

Riley sat his bottle on the bar, his mind racing. The tramp he used as a hate fuck to get over Ari snubbing him didn't help. She was meaningless. “I’m not here to help you drink to forget Mrs. DeLise..” Riley cringed, “We’re here to celebrate me bashin’ in the skulls of those two fuckin’ losers. They called me out for weeks and look what happened. That ought to teach ‘em to think before they speak.” He drank again.

“Knocked the shit out of Zach, though. Heard he’s not coming back. He packed up his shit and left.” Jace swallowed his drink, smirking. “Aye, you got that fuckin’ right. Heard his head crack underneath my fuckin’ bat. Shame Violet has a hard head, otherwise she would be gone too.” Jace said, his voice oozing with confidence. “For months Violet has been trying to get rid of Zach. I did it in one night.” He smirked again before downing another drink.

Riley, though, was the calm to Jace’s arrogance. He was there to keep him in check. “She’s racked up a few big wins. Up until last night, she was one of the hottest stars in the company.” Jace shrugged it off. “Hailey Banks; she was talented, Zach Knight; defeated but couldn’t finish, Aiden Van’t Hoff; another guy who could've had a bright future - Violet beat them all.” 

“Yeah - a fuckin’ nobody who couldn’t win a match. A punk who wasn’t as tough as he thought. And some stupid bloody wanker who was pussy whipped. Yeah, mate, big wins there. You know who she’s reminding me of more and more? Hanalei. Snobby little tart walks into the company, wins a few meaningless matches and thinks that they’re owed the world. Guess what happened to tha’ little revolution she spoke so much about? It began burning all around her. There was no uprising, no changing of the guard as she said. I put the slag on her back where she fuckin’ belonged, and I’ll do the fuckin’ same to this one. That revolution Hanalei talks about? The last of it will crumble to the ground when she gets slaughtered by ya’ girlfriend there. … Hah, oops.” A jab at Riley’s fresh wound. Riley was fuming.

“I outsmarted Hanalei when it mattered, and I will do the fuckin’ same to Violet at Screamfest. She can say what she wants, but at the end of it? I’m smarter than her, and I proved that at Vendetta. I don’t need to take to fuckin’ social media and blitz my opponents. Nah, bruv. I do it in the ring. At Vendetta I played her fuckin’ game, and I played it better than her.”

“Speed accounts for something.” Riley says, taking another drink. “Not when I bash ‘er fuckin’ knee in.” No one flinched when Jace reached beside him and picked up Gwenyth - his trusty baseball bat he used at Vendetta, and sat it on the bar. “Hard to run and use all of that agility when she’s clutching her fuckin' knee. That’s if she even remembers how to run, aye. I cracked ‘er head fuckin’ good at Vendetta. The way her blood poured out of her skull, bitch'll have memory loss or a fuckin' concussion. But I'll do worse at Screamfest."

“Worse?” Riley questioned. Jace smirked, taking another drink. “Way fuckin’ worse. She won’t be healed when Screamfest rolls around. Her recovery is piss-poor. But that will be the least of her worries. Her technique is below mine, so out wrestling her will be a walk in tha’ park. After being out-wrestled, and with that head injury? Her stamina will take a blow and leave her gasping for air: the way most of my opponent’s are left before I fuckin’ finish them. And after? They’re never the same. Ask Hanalei. Slag finally won her first match at Vendetta since meeting me at Deception.”

“Violet has said she’s here for a fight and will fight anyone; I think she’s bitten off a little more than she can fuckin’ chew. Try as she might, she couldn’t even get rid of Zach Knight. Beat him in a match, but she couldn’t shake him. One meeting with me and Gwenyth, and Zach ran for the hills. Violet, though? She should have known her time was comin’ when she attacked me from behind with that fuckin’ pipe. She should have known it was gonna’ end bad for her. If Hanalei and Twenty Three other men couldn’t keep me down at Deception, what makes this little tart think anything she throws at me will put me down? She’s sorely fuckin’ mistaken..,” he smirked, taking another drink.

“Is that the guy?” A voice from the doorway boomed. Neither Riley or Jace turned, but the large behemoth of a man was accompanied by three of his friends and a shorter, brunette female. “Y..Yeah, him.” she said, pointing to Riley. He had heard that voice before. You know that other “little tart” Jace mentioned? That was her. Riley sat his bottle down and was immediately confronted by four men.

“You got some fucking nerve. You fucked my girlfriend?” His voice full of piss and vinegar. Riley smirked, “She was begging for it. Must be missin’ something at home.” That didn’t go over well.

He swung, aimed for Riley’s dome. Riley ducks the blow and quickly headbutts the bigger foe. He stumbled back into his friends who catch him. All of them sneer. Riley stands, “Come on, boys. This won’t end well for any of you.” 

Jace finished his drink and sat his mug on the bar, his hand slowly moving toward Gwenyth. Before gripping it, he turned around to look at Riley and the group. “Aye, there a problem bruv?” - “Seems these boys want to dance. It’s a little unbalanced though, don’t you think?” Now his hand gripped the handle of the bat and he spun around sliding off of his chair and to his feet. “Nah. Not anymore.” He smirked. He, like Violet, also loved a good fight -- unlike her though, he has the technique and experience to make him substantially more dangerous. Refer to Vendetta for proof.