[ FIGHT-NYC | CHAPTER 2 ] – hey b0ss

By: Graham Clauson

Writing Prompt: No

Date: 23rd Jul 2021


[ Almost 3 AM, Columbus, OH. Behind the wheel of his car, Graham is seen driving down the road as we hear a phone call ringing through. ]

[ Ken ]: “…hello?”

[ Graham ]: “…canít say Iím completely Rudo anymore.”

[ Ken ]: “What are you talking about? Why are you calling me? Where are you?”

“In the car, leaving Arielís apartment.”

[ Ken ]: “…wait, WHAT?!”

[ Graham ]: “Ross was dumb enough to slip up that he was actually legit planning on going to Arielís apartment and breaking in after he dropped the kid off.”

[ Ken ]: “Why would he need to break into her apartment?!”

“Well…turns out there were some druggies squatting in her place and boarded the place shut…”

[ Long sigh, silence. ]

[ Ken ]: “…please tell me you didnít kill any transients.”

“The term is bum, and almost. Well, maybe. Ross hit him last.”

[ Ken ]: “God dammit, GrahamÖ”

[ Graham ]: “But we did make sure that those punks didnít steal anything. They hadnít even taken her purse or done anything to it.”

[ Ken ]: “Long story short, you Oceans 2íd your best friendís ex-wife…”

[ Graham ]: “No; if you want to play technical, her stepson technically did the robbery as much as I want to buy us something lavish just to dunk on her. Ultimately, all I did was eject unwanted houseguests.”

[ Ken ]: “Right on the line without crossing it, huh?”

[ Graham ]: “Hey, no matter what anyone says, I let that bitch live under my roof without paying a dime towards my mortgage or bills and never demanded it of her. I would think Iím allowed to make sure no one but her and her family gets to spend that cash on themselves, or us for that matter.”

[ Ken ]: “…so, youíre sure you didnít do it because you were looking out for Lilí Man?”

[ Silence, Graham opting not to answer the question. ]

[ Ken ]: “Graham?”

[ Graham ]: “Iím still here…”

[ Silence again. ]

[ Ken ]: “Answer my question, Graham.”

[ Graham ]: “…the little fucker is asleep so I can smoke once I get home, right?”

[ Ken ]: “Come on, babeÖ Why do you make it so difficult?”

[ Graham ]: “Fine… Although I dislike Ariel because she did Jay dirty, I also can say sheís definitely not the Ariel that I shared living spaces with eight years ago. I helped Ross out because that whore of a grandmother to Lilí Man doesnít deserve to have her shit stolen just because sheís not mentally stable.”

[ Ken ]: “I donít get you sometimes. You give a shred of care about a woman you constantly dog on for her recent nymphomania, but you laugh your ass off that Austin canít get over a copier lid and find him tailspinning to be hysterical.”

[ Graham ]: “I mean…make us fight in a Kinkoís under some fifth floor walk up studio apartments on the Lower West Side of the BronxÖ”

[ Ken ]: “If anything…youíre not being tailed by anyone, are you?”

“Duct Tape: It does more than tuck bitches junk between their asscheeks.”

[ Ken ]: “Good. I donít have to go to the ATM to get bail money.”

[ Graham ]: “Check the vent by the bed?”

[ Silence. ]

[ Ken ]: “What in the hell is this?”

“Rule number one of stupid hood shit: Always keep bail money on hand. I learned this dealing with Jay in the early days. This motherfucker kept ten grand stuffed in his dog’s bed and probably still keeps a six-shooter behind his toilet…”

[ Ken ]: “Behind?! Like, under the tank, or in it? …wait, wouldnít shit-water ruin it?”

[ Graham ]: “Who cares, he bought them off Facebook Marketplace. Half the time he traded them weed. I never thought Iíd have to deal with stupid hood shit again, but may as well teach you now. Youíd think youíd know some of this shit coming from a few hours away from Chicago…”

[ Ken ]: “Just because the hood is nearby doesnít mean you have to subscribe to it.”

[ Graham ]: “Truth. Anyway, be home in a minute, make sure my stash is safe.”

[ Ken ]: “Ross just texted me. He asked if we have any cat foodÖ? He knows we have four cats here.”

[ Graham ]: “…grab a couple cans out of the pantry, I know what he did. Pulling onto our street.”



[ SnoringÖ Graham, KTFOíd, is open mouth and drooling. A phone rings in tandem with Grahamís snoring. The camera is focused on Grahamís face, clearly the phone ringing is not phasing him one bit. Suddenly, we see a pillow swiftly slam down on Grahamís face, causing him to swiftly pop up with his hands balled up in fists. As this happens, we can see that Ken has Grahamís phone in hand. ]

[ Ken ]: “You may want to answer this.”

[ Graham ]: “You canít wake me up gently? It has to be harsh like that?”

[ Ken ]: “Youíre the one who snuck out to do hood shit.”

[ Graham takes the phone from Ken, only to realize that his father is calling him. He wipes his face and beard, trying to clear the drool from the side of his mouth as he slides his finger across the phone to answer the call coming in before hitting the speaker key. ]

[ Graham ]: “Hey, Da-”

[ Matt ]: “Donít. There are only three people who would go to Arielís apartment. One of them isnít going anywhere in a while. From there, itís obvious. It was Ross, you, or both of you. I know you and Ross went somewhere, I know you and Ross didnít come back from somewhere together, and I know that Ken was watching Rossís kid.”

[ Graham ]:”What are you talking about?”

[ Matt ]: “Your little stunt you pulled last night! You realize the fact that the cops carried out someone from Arielís apartment after he appeared to have been assaulted, and youíre lucky no one is ratting you two out. Itís all over the news that Arielís in the nut ward since they found her apartment all busted up.”

[ Stunned, Grahamís face is totally flushed of color as his father continues to tear into him verbally over the telephone. ]

[ Matt ]: “Do you think Iím one of the dumb smart marks that weíre trying to dupe out of their cash every damn week, or what am I to you? Huh?! Do you think that your uncle and I didnít do similar stupid shit when we were in the prime of our careers? We didnít have kids, we didnít have anything except the next booking to get to and making sure we had cash on-hand to drink. What else do you think was going on when the booze was flowing? Stupid shit, GrahamÖ

Ross isn’t just an idiot on social media. He’s young, stubborn and naÔve. And he seems to have his heart set on doing the right thing. What do you think he is going to do when he’s faced with a difficult real life decision, one where there’s no way to be a hero? I know he’s a rebel like us, but that only makes him that much more of a liability. Do you trust him to pick loyalty to you over loyalty to himself?

I sure as hell donít! Heís not that far from the tree that he fell from! Donít you remember how many times you would get pissed off at Jeremy for shit he would pull and you would get the flack just because you were his friend. Even today, you canít escape that fucking curse! You think associating yourself with the child of the Antichrist isnít going to continue to lead you down the path of damnation?

Iíve done nothing but watch you suffer for so damn long, and Iím sure as hell not going to watch it happen any further. Donít you get it? No matter what you do, no matter where you go, theyíre going to label you as Madmanís buddy. Youíre just gutter trash to them, nothing more. So, my question to you: Do you want to be successful, or do you want to keep the supposed best friend who conveniently has the glass ceiling you keep hitting placed right above his dick?!

Loyalty will only get you so far before it bites you, sonÖ And Iím scared youíre learning that lesson way too late in life.”

[ Matt is heard growling in frustration before the call is hung up suddenly from his end. Graham, still stunned, looks towards Ken, whoís just as stunned. ]



Hi, Fuzz. We met briefly a couple weeks ago. You and I, surprisingly, never have crossed paths until then. I thought you and I wouldíve gotten along much better and hit it off right off the bat. Both been around the same amount of time in the business, had similar roads, I thought we wouldíve been like the Endurance Match block in the Mortal Kombat tower…but instead…you pulled a fucking Shang Tsung on me.

Whatever made you think that dropping me on my head was the best first impression, I will never understand…but I understood the look in your eyes that I saw watching the footage back. The look of an opportunist. The look of a non-descript man with a non-descript goal, popping in at just the right place at the right time. But that seems to be your career, Shawn. Right place, right time. Your name carries some weight for the simple fact I know the name Fuzz. I know the name Shawn Warstein.

But, for the life of me, I donít know anything of note that youíve ever done. Kinda reminds me of McDonaldís. Everyone knows what it is. Everyone knows that it isnít anything special. Everyone is afraid to say that itís shit, but everyone knows it shit. Or, maybe a better analogy for this – everyone knows it’s stale. It’s so stale, it doesnít biodegrade or grow mold. Itís twenty years old, everyone knows it’s processed junk, but theyíll still shovel it down their throat like itís better than sex. Everyone knows it’s literal crap. But yet people still love it because of that fucking clown, the giant buttplug, and the fucking Mac Tonight Moon-Head.

Or, even better and more relevant to now: Space Jam! This is the most corporate-ass bullshit movie in existence, and itís coming back! Ask yourself right now, why do you stupid fucks love Space Jam? Was it because MJ was a good actor? Nope. Good story? Uh, nope. Good basketball? Haaaa! It makes Air Bud look like it was Who Wants to Sex Mutumbo. You are Space Jam, Fuzz. Everyone loves your corny ass, but no one knows why and doesnít care to ask themselves why.

You came in at just the right time to catch the attention. Like a pair of fresh sneakers made in an Indian sweatshop, here comes Shawn Warstein! Remember this guy? Forget the fact that heís been here forever and a day under a different name, look at the industry plant and love HIM instead of what you actually desire to enjoy! Forget the fact that his schtick is the equivalent of using a 70-year old intellectual property – a cartoon, no less – and a basketball player who just retired so he wouldnít get suspended for his gambling habit to sell a product with his name on it. From there, turning it into a 90-minute movie with four writers and couldnít provide one single fucking reason to still care about it!


Speaking of his buddies, Vinny…like someone who usually says dumb stuff but gets it right occasionally told me: just because you donít admit you got beat doesnít mean you didnít get beat. The whole world saw you lose, Vinny. And you lost, too, Shawn. Thatís where you fucked up. Iíve been taking out everyone else whoís been standing in my way of gaining the one thing that Iíve been chasing for my entire professional career. Ask Asher. Ask Noelle. Ask JJ. Ask Vinny. Ask Austin. Ask the people closest to me who I cut out of my life, just because they MIGHT stand in the way. All you did was slide in and drop me on my head long enough after I had been beating the piss out of everyone for over twenty minutes!

Unlike some people, I donít have my CD player with repeat turned on for the same track. Iím not sitting here like Jeff Foxworthy telling the same damn “You might be a redneck” jokes. Iím not the same shit that Nabisco manufactures on an assembly line. Youíre easy to replicate, Shawn. Anyone can be you, and anyone can do you. Youíre another dime-a-dozen, pre-fab, cookie-cutter cardboard-cutout.† You’re what every smart mark who wishes they could do what we do would do.

…you lost to a guy named Dickie when it counted most. And I donít know which name is worse, but either way, you two need to form a team called Dick Lint – especially since thatís all youíve ever amounted to.

You can sit there and no-sell the fact that you came up short at Blood Money, but you canít no-sell the fact that the person with the ducat isnít you, and you canít no-sell that you were the one to make sure that my chance at it was taken away.

And you definitely won’t be able to no-sell the consequences.

Now…you…got…me. In the main event, nonetheless. Even if I already didnít have personal motivation to stomp you out for the minor inconvenience of costing me a shot at the title I should have had a shot at back when we were still Outlaw Pro (thanx Obama) the fact is…this is the main event. The fact that youíre dealing with a gay man who has been minorly inconvenienced for several months now, I HAVE to stomp you all the way out, Shawn. I canít just use one foot. I have to use two, and I have to fucking Mario Thwomp that shit. I mean, have you ever dealt with a gay man whoís been minorly inconvenienced? We make Karen look docile! And you want to actually walk into Venom and face me in the MAIN EVENT?! Not only did I lose the ducat due to you, I now have to get my retribution on you on top of that to make this point more clear than Crystal Pepsi AGAIN?!

I guess Iíll just have to shoot Shawn Warsteinís face off…save us all the trouble of breaking it to him that heís as boring and predictable as French Vanilla…