Post by Chance Fusion on Jan 7, 2015 16:10:38 GMT
The sound of the heater kicked on as the less than brand new system struggled to life to warm the suburban Tampa home from a brisk 62 degrees inside to a toasty 71. The hardworking housewide appliance’s dull roar is then interrupted by a much less industrial noise. “Ani-maaaaiiillll calll! Ani-mail! Ani-mail! Hot diggity-dog it’s ani-mail!” sings out from the television. Chance Fusion is strewn out across the couch holding his Nintendo DSi above his face, singing along with the television show he isn’t even looking at. A friendly “ruff” comes from the small machine in his hands as he moves the stylus back and forth across the bottom screen on the machine.
Underneath the constant lighthearted sounds a key can be heard slipping into the deadbolt of the front door. It turns with a click as Amy Fusion opens up the door and walks in. She is wearing a form fitting polo shirt with the logo for “Massage Envy” embroidered on it and and comfortable jeans on as well. She walks in, plopping her handbag down on the table as she glances at her husband. Chance’s focus, or lack thereof, has yet to be broken. Amy sighs slightly, walking over and standing at the end of the couch where Chance’s head is leaned against the armrest.
Still, he hasn’t seemed to take notice. Amy waits for roughly thirty seconds, wondering if Chance will react even in the slightest manner. Finally, she slaps the DSi hovering above his head hard. The plastic gaming device pops out of his slightly loose grip and slams into his face. “Ouch!” He exclaims as the device rolls off and hits the floor with a thud.
Amy Fusion: Have you done anything other than lay here and play fucking Nintendogs all day?
Chance is still rubbing his face, looking more emotionally hurt than physically, and quickly tries to change the subject.
Chance Fusion: How was work?
Amy Fusion: It was okay. I really don’t mind who comes in to get a massage, but today everyone was as dull as your reflexes.
Chance Fusion: Ouch. That one hit me right in the emotes.
Amy Fusion: Talk like a normal person, sweetheart.
Chance Fusion: Did the stiffs at least leave good tips?
Amy Fusion: Some better than others, but that really isn’t the issue. The thing that makes a long day tolerable is having interesting, or at least semi-interesting, people to talk to. Every time I tried to ask questions or spark smalltalk today, people just weren’t having it. They’d answer… but then the conversation would just end. It made the day feel like it would never end.
Chance Fusion: That’s tough hun. Days like that will happen, though. I know my day was pretty uneventful too. I’ve officially seen all of Planet’s Funniest Animals, which was a pretty ironically sad moment. On a much brighter note, the dalmatian in my game is super well fed and not parched at all.
Amy Fusion: Okay, you’re officially done.
Chance Fusion: Come again for dalmatian master?
Amy Fusion: If you lay here for one more day without doing anything, I’m going to end up snapping your neck one night after having sex.
Chance Fusion: Why after having sex?
Amy Fusion: If I’m going to become a widow, I’m going to get some before it happens. Now get up off your ass, and start training.
Chance Fusion: What am I training for?
Amy Fusion lowers her head in unsurprised disappointment, suddenly getting annoyed and slapping Chance hard across the face. Chance stumbles, grasping his cheek and looking at Amy with wild eyed confusion.
Chance Fusion: Okay, I might have deserved tha-
Chance says as he stretches his jaw and struggles through the pain.
Chance Fusion: I might have deserved that, but do you mind at least telling me why I did?
Amy Fusion: You need to build back up your pain threshold.
Chance Fusion: Oh no. Not bondage. Please, you know how much I hate the leather you bought. Just-
Amy Fusion: No you blithering idiot. Wake up. You’re going to start wrestling again?
Chance Fusion: Where? Everywhere closed down. EUW is gone. IPW is gone. Hi Octane became a graphic artist. What am I supposed to do? Google wrestling companies in the south?
Amy Fusion: Already done, you’ve got a match a week from Sunday.
Chance Fusion: I’ve got a WHAT’S GOING ON?!
Amy continues talking, but shoves her head and shoulder into the side of slowly pushes the still grumbling and confused Chance Fusion towards the door. He doesn’t go quickly, but they begin making ground while still talking.
Amy Fusion: You’ve- got- a- match.
Amy says while struggling slightly against Chance. Deciding to finish talking before shoving him through the door, she stops in front of the television with the door not far away now.
Amy Fusion: You’re officially a part of RWD, and I’m gonna be by your side like old times.
Chance Fusion: Arr-double-what is going on?
Amy Fusion: You don’t snap out of this I’ll slap you out of it.
Chance Fusion: Yes ma’am. Why didn’t you even ask me about this before signing me up?
Amy Fusion: I did. I’ve mentioned it like fifteen different times, every time you either ignored me or went “uh huh.” I asked you one time during foreplay and I think it was the only time you actually heard me, but obviously didn’t realize I was serious.
Chance Fusion: It was foreplay! What kind of timing is that?
Amy Fusion: I’ve been trying to bring this up, but I’ve never seen you so distracted. You know you’d rather be competing, now put on your big boy panties and go get in shape.
Chance Fusion: It’s gonna take me more than a week to to get back in ring shape!
Amy Fusion: I’m sure it will. In the meantime, keep in mind that you’re facing a kid named Timothy Tyson who calls himself “Mr. TNT.”
Chance Fusion: I’ve got so many bad puns right now.
Amy Fusion: And I appreciate the restraint, dear. Tyson hasn’t gotten a single win since he got to RWD, and you can keep that up. The Revolutionary Wrestling Division is gonna have to deal with Chance Fusion even if I have to drag you there by the balls.
Chance Fusion: Not a single win? Looks like DADDY’S BACK.
Amy Fusion: Oh god, don’t start that again.
Chance Fusion: I’m back in business! I’m gonna squash that kid like a bug and make his dreams of upsetting the former EUW Pure Champion and EUW Tag Team Champion go BOOM when he feels the F-Bomb!
Amy Fusion: That’s wonderful dear, now go train.
Amy sighs slightly, but a grin seeps through as she is clearly overjoyed amidst her annoyance. Despite the ridiculousness of the matter, these are the most positive things Chance has said in months. The time out of the ring has clearly done a toll on him, and Amy has had enough of it. She continues to push him towards the door as Chance drags his feet slightly while talking.
Chance Fusion: The Dogs of War ride once again! Chance Fusion and Superbitch are back on the map! RWD needs to be on notice! Dog’s gift to wrestling is about to arrive! I’ll ruff! And I’ll huff! And I’ll-
Chance’s nonsensical ranting is suddenly cut off as he trips over the door frame and Amy slams the door shut. She immediately locks the deadbolt, turning and plopping against the door back first with a huge breath of relief. Amy slowly slides down it, taking a seat on the floor now with her back resting against the door. She shakes her head, but smiles wide. He’s ridiculous, but he’s her ridiculous husband. The man who once terrorized EUW, literally at times, but usually figuratively by opening his mouth, and started to make a mark in IPW before it fell apart, was boiling back to the surface. The man she’d fallen in love with, amidst all his goofiness, cockiness, and unlikely in-ring prowess, was bubbling back up. All he needed was a push.
Underneath the constant lighthearted sounds a key can be heard slipping into the deadbolt of the front door. It turns with a click as Amy Fusion opens up the door and walks in. She is wearing a form fitting polo shirt with the logo for “Massage Envy” embroidered on it and and comfortable jeans on as well. She walks in, plopping her handbag down on the table as she glances at her husband. Chance’s focus, or lack thereof, has yet to be broken. Amy sighs slightly, walking over and standing at the end of the couch where Chance’s head is leaned against the armrest.
Still, he hasn’t seemed to take notice. Amy waits for roughly thirty seconds, wondering if Chance will react even in the slightest manner. Finally, she slaps the DSi hovering above his head hard. The plastic gaming device pops out of his slightly loose grip and slams into his face. “Ouch!” He exclaims as the device rolls off and hits the floor with a thud.
Amy Fusion: Have you done anything other than lay here and play fucking Nintendogs all day?
Chance is still rubbing his face, looking more emotionally hurt than physically, and quickly tries to change the subject.
Chance Fusion: How was work?
Amy Fusion: It was okay. I really don’t mind who comes in to get a massage, but today everyone was as dull as your reflexes.
Chance Fusion: Ouch. That one hit me right in the emotes.
Amy Fusion: Talk like a normal person, sweetheart.
Chance Fusion: Did the stiffs at least leave good tips?
Amy Fusion: Some better than others, but that really isn’t the issue. The thing that makes a long day tolerable is having interesting, or at least semi-interesting, people to talk to. Every time I tried to ask questions or spark smalltalk today, people just weren’t having it. They’d answer… but then the conversation would just end. It made the day feel like it would never end.
Chance Fusion: That’s tough hun. Days like that will happen, though. I know my day was pretty uneventful too. I’ve officially seen all of Planet’s Funniest Animals, which was a pretty ironically sad moment. On a much brighter note, the dalmatian in my game is super well fed and not parched at all.
Amy Fusion: Okay, you’re officially done.
Chance Fusion: Come again for dalmatian master?
Amy Fusion: If you lay here for one more day without doing anything, I’m going to end up snapping your neck one night after having sex.
Chance Fusion: Why after having sex?
Amy Fusion: If I’m going to become a widow, I’m going to get some before it happens. Now get up off your ass, and start training.
Chance Fusion: What am I training for?
Amy Fusion lowers her head in unsurprised disappointment, suddenly getting annoyed and slapping Chance hard across the face. Chance stumbles, grasping his cheek and looking at Amy with wild eyed confusion.
Chance Fusion: Okay, I might have deserved tha-
Chance says as he stretches his jaw and struggles through the pain.
Chance Fusion: I might have deserved that, but do you mind at least telling me why I did?
Amy Fusion: You need to build back up your pain threshold.
Chance Fusion: Oh no. Not bondage. Please, you know how much I hate the leather you bought. Just-
Amy Fusion: No you blithering idiot. Wake up. You’re going to start wrestling again?
Chance Fusion: Where? Everywhere closed down. EUW is gone. IPW is gone. Hi Octane became a graphic artist. What am I supposed to do? Google wrestling companies in the south?
Amy Fusion: Already done, you’ve got a match a week from Sunday.
Chance Fusion: I’ve got a WHAT’S GOING ON?!
Amy continues talking, but shoves her head and shoulder into the side of slowly pushes the still grumbling and confused Chance Fusion towards the door. He doesn’t go quickly, but they begin making ground while still talking.
Amy Fusion: You’ve- got- a- match.
Amy says while struggling slightly against Chance. Deciding to finish talking before shoving him through the door, she stops in front of the television with the door not far away now.
Amy Fusion: You’re officially a part of RWD, and I’m gonna be by your side like old times.
Chance Fusion: Arr-double-what is going on?
Amy Fusion: You don’t snap out of this I’ll slap you out of it.
Chance Fusion: Yes ma’am. Why didn’t you even ask me about this before signing me up?
Amy Fusion: I did. I’ve mentioned it like fifteen different times, every time you either ignored me or went “uh huh.” I asked you one time during foreplay and I think it was the only time you actually heard me, but obviously didn’t realize I was serious.
Chance Fusion: It was foreplay! What kind of timing is that?
Amy Fusion: I’ve been trying to bring this up, but I’ve never seen you so distracted. You know you’d rather be competing, now put on your big boy panties and go get in shape.
Chance Fusion: It’s gonna take me more than a week to to get back in ring shape!
Amy Fusion: I’m sure it will. In the meantime, keep in mind that you’re facing a kid named Timothy Tyson who calls himself “Mr. TNT.”
Chance Fusion: I’ve got so many bad puns right now.
Amy Fusion: And I appreciate the restraint, dear. Tyson hasn’t gotten a single win since he got to RWD, and you can keep that up. The Revolutionary Wrestling Division is gonna have to deal with Chance Fusion even if I have to drag you there by the balls.
Chance Fusion: Not a single win? Looks like DADDY’S BACK.
Amy Fusion: Oh god, don’t start that again.
Chance Fusion: I’m back in business! I’m gonna squash that kid like a bug and make his dreams of upsetting the former EUW Pure Champion and EUW Tag Team Champion go BOOM when he feels the F-Bomb!
Amy Fusion: That’s wonderful dear, now go train.
Amy sighs slightly, but a grin seeps through as she is clearly overjoyed amidst her annoyance. Despite the ridiculousness of the matter, these are the most positive things Chance has said in months. The time out of the ring has clearly done a toll on him, and Amy has had enough of it. She continues to push him towards the door as Chance drags his feet slightly while talking.
Chance Fusion: The Dogs of War ride once again! Chance Fusion and Superbitch are back on the map! RWD needs to be on notice! Dog’s gift to wrestling is about to arrive! I’ll ruff! And I’ll huff! And I’ll-
Chance’s nonsensical ranting is suddenly cut off as he trips over the door frame and Amy slams the door shut. She immediately locks the deadbolt, turning and plopping against the door back first with a huge breath of relief. Amy slowly slides down it, taking a seat on the floor now with her back resting against the door. She shakes her head, but smiles wide. He’s ridiculous, but he’s her ridiculous husband. The man who once terrorized EUW, literally at times, but usually figuratively by opening his mouth, and started to make a mark in IPW before it fell apart, was boiling back to the surface. The man she’d fallen in love with, amidst all his goofiness, cockiness, and unlikely in-ring prowess, was bubbling back up. All he needed was a push.
so quickly so sad!
