Deception 03 -- An Asshole's Drunken Spiel

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An Asshole's Drunken Spiel

It was Wednesday night, the night before Deception, and Aiden Van’t Hoff found himself stumbling through the streets trying to make it to towards Hailey’s apartment complex. At the moment, he was a royal mess; almost piss face drunk with a nearly empty bottle of Captain Morgan in hands. Going home wasn’t an option for Aiden. Maisi was there and he would rather pass out somewhere on a sidewalk. Their situation was fucked really, as was his life at the moment. He wanted to fuck his own best friend, wanted to fuck his mystery blonde Arianny Blake, had just finished fucking the coed from the Chi Upsilon Zeta house he’d met over the weekend. Like any teenager, she was needy and eager and willing to do whatever it took to please a man like Aiden with her tongue and mouth. It had been fun for awhile until Aiden had bent her over and discovered that she was a fuckin virgin.

“Fuck.”

Some young slut’s virginity wasn’t the type of prize he was interested in gaining. Aiden wanted the RSW Absolute Championship but at this rate, he’d be lucky if he walked into The Arena tomorrow without a hangover. Maybe Hailey would make good on her promise to walk out of the show with the title strapped around her slender waist. Aiden had no fucking clue what was going to happen. He caught his toe on a rock and stumbled forward, the bottle dropping from his hands and breaking. An annoyed look crossed his handsome face and he just sank to the ground beside the spilled alcohol.

“Tomorrow night I have the opportunity to fight for a championship for the first time ever in my career."

Part of him still didn't believe the opportunity was legit.

"The match is a fucking battle royal thing, over-the-top rope elimination bullshit. Never competed in one. Never faced multiple opponents before. Good thing I’m a goddamn winner. One thing I’m confident in is my ability to fucking bring it regardless of who’s inside that ring with me. My opponents are a motley crew of wrestling school rejects, useless pieces of garbage, and one bitch who lets his obese troll father speak for him.”

Aiden paused. Sure, he was about to launch into a profanity laced rant against each of his opponents that would not gain him an ounce of respect from anyone. But there was one other person in the match.

“And Hailey.”

He raked a hand through his messy hair.

“Arthur Thomas, you’re about the worst competitor I have ever seen in my life. You’re a fat, slow fuck who can’t stay awake long enough to scratch his goddamn ballsack. Your sob story does nothing but fucking bore me. I don’t give a crap that you wasted your life in wrestling school for a decade. I’ve worked for six months to learn more and accomplish more than you’ll ever manage in your life. You’re a joke, a loser, and if you somehow manage to escape tomorrow night without some type of massive injury that ends your career, then you are a lucky, undeserving mother fucker. Hanalei made you look like a fool last week. Do yourself a favor. Stay away from Deception.

Aaros, you broody bitch. You had a chance to make an impact last week against the Bay Area Champion Jace O’Brien. Someone actually saw something in you and thought you could stand toe-to-toe with a champ. When I was in wrestling school, guys like you were a dime a dozen. The silent and oh so deadly type. Egomaniacs who think they’re so much better than they actually are. Types like you just don’t last in this business, Aaros. Losses devastate your ego to the point where you tuck your tail between your legs and just quit. Good thing is no one is going to miss you.

Same thing for Enoch and Cartwright. Why the fuck are they even in this match? Enoch got his ass handed to him by Genocide two weeks ago and Cartwright is just some mystical being that no one in this part of the wrestling world has ever even heard of. Dude, it’s fucked.”

Aiden sighed. He really need another damn drink. He wasn’t buzzed enough to touch his finger to the puddle of Captain Morgan beside him.

Wait.

He was. He absolutely was. Aiden dipped his finger in the pool of spilled drink and broken glass and licked it off. It was an absolutely pathetic sight. The random, unprovoked drunken anger didn't make the situation any better.

“Who’s left? Right. Genocide, death’s dealer. And Bryce Albright, the fucking amateur. I say amateur with all due respect, because I’m sure his fucking fathager will be there to correct me. Sad thing is, he doesn’t even realize that his stupid son doesn’t have what it takes it cut it in the business. Bryce is all shit talk and fancy holds. When it mattered most, he got distracted by that sexy little piece Arianny Blake and he couldn’t finish off Mondae Chaos. Granted, Arianny could distract me all she fucking wants…”

Aiden’s voice trailed off for a second as he pictured the object of his dirty, sex fantasies. A smirk crossed his face.

“Fact is, Albright has a lot going on. His big mouth and kindergarten insults aren’t going to help him in this match. He’s undeserving but at least he has a bank degree or some shit to fall back on. As far as Geno goes, the only wrestler I know named Genocide was in GWA. He’s almost one of Rave’s fathers and like 70-years old. I highly doubt they’re the same person, who knows what this one will bring to the table. I’m really not that worried.”

Aiden wasn’t really worried about anything when it came to Deception. He was confident in his ability to get inside that ring and get the job done come tomorrow night. No one knew what he was truly capable of. He was an unknown and the match type favored unpredictability. Staggering to his feet, Aiden started heading towards Hailey’s building again. He knew he wasn’t going to make it up to her floor and he had to piss, so the next best thing he could do was head for a bush and handle his business.

After a good shake and dry, he finally made it to the parking lot. Hailey's car was parked not to far from the stairs that would take him to her place, but he wasn't about to climb a set of stairs. Not bothering to think that the door could be locked, he jerked open the back passenger's side door and got inside. It wasn't the first time he had passed out in her car. Probably wouldn't be the fucking last. Good thing Hailey was naive enough to think San Francisco didn't have car thieves. He took comfort knowing he'd always have a place to sleep.