War of the Roses: Redux Edition

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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Soapy » 09 Oct 2019, 20:47

Caesar wrote:
16 Sep 2019, 02:31
He smiled and leaned down to kiss her on her forehead. “You’re beautiful, you know that? I’ll see you around, Kaley.”
what a pussy lmfao

both these niggas from soft ass hoes

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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Soapy » 09 Oct 2019, 21:25

Xixak wrote:
18 Sep 2019, 22:50
So fucking pretenshus. Like just say redo you dont gotta go n say redux like you from france or some shit. Lame ass nigga.

Such a dumb story anyways, nobody cares about your damn Rose, dericck
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Xixak » 10 Oct 2019, 01:03

Soapy wrote:
09 Oct 2019, 21:25
Xixak wrote:
18 Sep 2019, 22:50
So fucking pretenshus. Like just say redo you dont gotta go n say redux like you from france or some shit. Lame ass nigga.

Such a dumb story anyways, nobody cares about your damn Rose, dericck
Forgot about that post :pgdead:

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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Soapy » 10 Oct 2019, 20:21

Xixak wrote:
19 Sep 2019, 11:53
Captain Canada wrote:
19 Sep 2019, 01:11
Damn, nigga even treats Pierre like shit. Goddamn...
Shut up nigga
lmfaoo i love this man
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 14 Oct 2019, 01:43

The Cracks Show

Driving rain swept across the surface of the tiny football stadium near the edge of the state. Nearby, Bayou Lafourche mingled with various lakes, bays and canals on its course to the Gulf of Mexico and it seemed like all of that water was being picked up and dumped onto one spot in the small town of Galliano.

That didn’t stop the home crowd from turning out in droves to support their South Lafourche Tarpons. The stands were full, and some people spilled out to the track surrounding the field. Drenched banners were hung up and flags of every kind waved through the wind.

“We even in the same state?” Hasan asked Devin as the two of them stood on the sideline. He pointed to a few instances of the stars and bars. “I thought only Alabama hadn’t gotten the 200-year-old memo that they lost.”

Devin shrugged and wiped rain away that hadn’t gotten through to his face. “Mais, welcome to S’at Lafooche, sha. The Vandebilt guys were talking on the way down here. Said we should watch our nuts or some shit.”

“Watch our nuts? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Terrebonne quarterback Ron DeRossi heads to the line of scrimmage for the first time tonight. With the way this rain is coming down, I’m surprised that he can see the offensive linemen let alone the defense to be able to make adjustments. You have to expect these teams will keep the ball on the ground for this one.”

Hasan took the handoff from Ron and headed toward the gap between the right guard and center. It closed quickly as players struggled to find purchase on the increasingly muddy turf. He ran into the back of his teammates and tried to bounce it outside but was met by defenders.

Wrapping up the ball, he braced for the hit. But he didn’t expect to be flung to the ground by his facemask. And he didn’t expect another two players to dive on him after he’d hit the turf.

As he was getting up, he felt himself getting punched by the players who’d tackled him before being shoved back to the ground.

Other Terrebonne players pushed the South Lafourche players away and helped Hasan to his feet.

But there were no flags for the afters.

Hasan turned to the nearest ref, standing only a few feet away awaiting to get the ball. “I know you saw that!”

“Shut up and play ball, boy. We won’t be having none of that backtalk tonight,” the referee said before snatching up the ball and tossing it to another official.

“DeRossi fires it out to Shawntoine Jackson for a short gain of fo—Whoa! You don’t get a more obvious roughing the passer call than that! Trent Bergeron basically body slammed DeRossi into the turf well after the ball was out of his hand. No flag on the play, though. Somehow.”

“Jenkins is calling for the ball over the middle of the field – But he’s taken down by two Tarpon defenders and the ball sails incomplete. Surely, the referees are going to throw a flag on that one for interference. They’re signaling fourth down. No flag on the play.”

The defense jogged out onto the field feeling dejected. For the first time all season, they’d followed the offense onto the field without a touchdown being put on the board.

Devin felt his feet sinking into the unkempt field, likely a purposeful decision by the school for games like this when it quickly dissolved into a swamp. Tough for the away team to play on, but right at home for the Tarpons.

Devin looked inside to the quarterback, straining his eyes to see through the rain that had seemingly started coming down harder. The ball was snapped at the toss came in his direction.

The wide receiver tied him up with an ample amount of jersey clenched between his hands. Devin tried to break free, but the kid had a good grip on him. He spotted the pulling guard and expected the play to pass him by.

Instead, the guard dove at his legs for a textbook chop block. Devin shouted out in pain as he fell to the turf.

The Terrebonne bench was incensed as the play was blown dead when the tackle was made. Coach Hill spat venom at the line judge for not throwing his flag, but the official simply jogged further down the field without a word.

Fortunately, Devin was able to get to his feet under his own power and walk off the field.

“Midway through the first quarter, Terrebonne trail for the first time this year down 7-0, and things are starting to get chippy down there already. If the referees don’t get a hold of this game, it could descend into an outright brawl.”

“Cazayoux is taken down by his facemask, but don’t expect any calls coming from this crew, ladies and gentlemen.”

“DeRossi is blasted for what has to be the 10th time tonight and none of them have even been remotely legal hits. You have to admire that young man for continuing to get up from the punishment that he’s taking.”

“One, two, three, four. There were at least four holding calls on that play by South Lafourche and I’m looking down on the field from the booth and through the rain.”

“Blake Guidroz throws it for the first time tonight and it’s PICKED OFF BY ANTHONY LEDET! He takes it 15 yards before being brought down at the Tarpon 31. Everyone looks to the referees expecting some kind of flag, but it’s Tigers football! With 15 seconds left to play in the half, Terrebonne has a chance to tie it up.”

“Terrebonne opt to keep it on the ground with a pitch out to Santiago. He makes a man miss and South Lafourche has overcommitted! He has space and blockers ahead of him! Santiago jogs into the endzone for an easy touchdown to tie the game up heading into halftime! Wait! That’s a late hit from Bubba Larpenter! Cazayoux throws a punch at the linebacker and it’s all out chaos on the field! The referees have officially lost control of this one!”

Coach Hill walked into the locker room with purpose. He slammed his hand against a whiteboard set up in the tiny visitors’ digs. The room quieted and everyone looked toward him.

“We don’t fucking retaliate! I don’t want to hear about them playing dirty. I don’t want to hear about the refs I don’t want to hear one God damn word about it. We are not going to be that team!” he yelled, face reddening as he wiped rain from his brow. He pointed at Britton. “You’re not playing in the second half.”

“Coach, it was a late hit!” Britton said, defending himself.

“And you threw a punch. You’re lucky I’m pulling you instead of you getting tossed by the referees. You can think about it on the bench.”

Britton threw his helmet at the floor. “This is fucking bullshit.”

The coach ignored the outburst and turned to the rest of the team. “Let that be a message to the rest of you. When they go low, we’re going to go high and get out of this game with our pride and integrity intact. No exceptions!”

“Batted down by Coleman and the Tarpons will be forced to punt again.”

“Jackson is stopped at the line of scrimmage to make it fourth down. The Terrebonne punting unit comes out onto the field.”

“King makes the stop on third and long. Yet another punt in a second half that has been much quieter than the first.”

“The pass is too high from DeRossi and the Tigers fail to move the ball into their opponents’ side of the field yet again.”

“The Tarpons roll the dice on a short fourth down and are stopped for a turnover on downs. Terrebonne football.”

“Get the ball out in space, coach,” Coach Thomas said to his younger counterpart. “They can’t deal with our speed even in this slop.”

Coach Hill looked at him and shook his head before relaying a playcall into Ron. Another run straight up the middle. “How about you let me call my game? And you stick to the defensive side of things, huh?”

Thomas shrugged. “If you want to lose to a bunch of cousin-fucking hicks from down the bayou then by all means keep pounding it straight up the middle but know that you’re just showing everyone that you’re a bad coach.”

“A bad coach? Fuck you, old man.”

“It looks like you’re looking at another third and long after another dumb playcall,” Coach Thomas said before walking away.

“Jenkins catches the ball in the flat on what looks like a quick screen. HURDLES A MAN! AND HE’S TURNS UP FIELD! He’s finally pushed out of bounds at the Tarpon 4-yard-line and this game has been sparked back into life!”

“DeRossi drops back, lofts it to the back of the endzone and Jenkins comes down with it. Terrebonne touchdown! Terrebonne lead! Terrebonne lead late in the fourth quarter!”

“Fourth and goal here. It looks like this will be the last roll of the dice for Trahan’s South Lafourche. Guidroz takes the snap and bobbles it! He sprints out to his right and is almost immediately taken down by Devin King! Turnover on downs! Turnover on downs!”

Devin popped up to his feet quickly, knowing that a Tarpon offensive linemen would take the opportunity to leave something extra on him now that the game was out of reach.

He thought about reaching a hand out to help the quarterback to his feet but when the South Lafourche signal caller spat at Devin’s feet, he just left him to wallow in his self-pity as he jogged off the field – ready to get the absolute fuck out of Galliano.

With only seconds left on the clock, South Lafourche burned their final timeout despite being down with no chance to make a miraculous comeback should Ron fumble the snap on the last play of the game. But the coach called the timeout nonetheless.

Coach Hill grabbed Ron’s jersey to stop him from running out onto the field when the referees signaled for play to resume. “Get in shotgun for the snap. I don’t need them trying to hurt my quarterback on a dead play.”

Ron nodded and ran out on the field. He signaled with his hands for the victory formation but relayed the slight change to Hasan, Bart and Britton. He faced Caesar and did the victory formation signal again, then once more but this time upside down.

Stepping into position, Ron faked the snap twice and noticed the South Lafourche linemen jumping as if they were going to actually play out the last down at full speed.

“Red 80, Red 80! Hut!”

Ron caught the snap cleanly and took two steps back before bending his legs as if he was going to kneel. Instead, he threw the ball to Caesar who was wide open.

Caesar took off down the field as boos rained from the stands. He slowed down to let the Tarpon defensive backs catch up before speeding up once more, waving at them and making a mouthing gesture with his hand as he ran into the endzone.

To put an exclamation mark on it, he jumped over the line and slid through the mud in the endzone.

An opposing player met him when he got back to his feet and threw a punch. Caesar stumbled back to avoid it, but lost his footing in the mud. The benches cleared as players from both teams converged on the endzone.

Cops joined the coaching staffs and the referees as they tried to separate the two teams while also making sure no fans decided to join in. Trash was thrown from the stands in the direction of the players before order was restored and the teams sent to the locker rooms.

Coach Hill stormed into the locker room behind the team, his face red with anger. He pointed at Caesar who was laughing with Ron, but no words formed on his lips to chastise the receiver.

Instead, he kicked over a garbage can. “There’s no pride in that! Get your shit and get on the busses. Keep your helmets and pads on. Hurry up!”

The team groaned but did as they were told. The trek from the visitor’s locker room to the busses was lined with South Lafourche fans who hurled insults, bags of popcorn and drinks at Terrebonne’s players as they boarded the bus.

Devin heard more than a few racial slurs hurled his way, but kept his head down and kept walking not wanting to egg them on.

Caesar, on the other hand, blew kisses and gave them a princess wave as he passed.

However, there were no celebrations on the busses as the last one pulled out of that Galliano parking lot and started the hour-long trek back to Terrebonne.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 15 Oct 2019, 02:06

Wet, muddy pads for an hour. Them mothafuckas all catching colds.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 16 Oct 2019, 20:32

Mind is Weak, Body Weaker

Terrebonne’s football team left the torrential downpours behind them in South Lafourche as the busses made it back to Houma. Parents lingered around the parking lot waiting to take their kids home after a long night. Even to them, the manner of the win didn’t sit well after the two brawls that erupted on the field at the end of either half.

Devin walked out of the Field House, mentally and physically exhausted from the game. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his knee throbbed from the chop block he’d been on the receiving end of in the first quarter. Shuffling that leg to keep weight off it, he limped toward the parking lot.

He nodded his thanks to the smattering of fathers who commended him on a good game. It probably helped their opinion that he’d stayed on the fringes of the fracas at the end of the game, having no desire to get involved in something Caesar started.

As he approached his car, he spotted Scarlett leaning against it. She smiled at him, but he was too tired to return it.

“You didn’t go home?” he asked, getting his keys out of his pocket.

“No, I had Tiffany drop me off here so I could see you. I thought you could come over tonight since it’s already late,” she said.

He scratched his head. He could still feel the grime from the mixture of rain and sweat that had settled on his hair. It instantly doubled his exhaustion. “I’m sorry, Scar. I just want to go home, take a real shower, and go to sleep.”

“And you can’t do that at my house?”

“Yeah, but I’m in a shit mood, too. It’s not fun having 300 pound fat boys diving at your knees and the refs not doing shit about it.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me, Devin.”

He sighed. “Can you just leave it? I can bring you home and I’ll come by tomorrow when I’m feeling better.”

“No, you’re in a shit mood. I’ll find my own way home,” she said, rolling her eyes as she pushed away from the car.

“C’mon, Scarlett. Who else is going to bring you home? It’s damn near midnight.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll manage on my own. I have been for months anyway. What’s one more night?”


“Good night, Devin. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She didn’t let him get another word in before she walked away toward the crowd of people standing near the entrance to the field.

Devin thought about going after her and trying to get her to see reason, but he was in no mood to deal with someone being stubborn so he simply unlocked his car, tossed his duffel bag into the back seat and got in himself.

Hasan came running across the parking lot before he could crank up the engine. He knocked on the window, which Devin rolled down.

“Hey, man. Your girl looks pissed,” he said.

Devin shrugged.

“Can you give me a ride home? I was goin’ to bum a ride from Noah, but he said he got some pussy on standby or some shit. You know niggas be lyin’, though.”

Devin unlocked the passenger side door and waved his hand toward it.

“Thanks, bruh.” Hasan ran around the car and hopped in.


“Nothing big tonight. It’s already damn near Sunday and we’re just getting back. It’ll be one in the morning before shit really gets going,” Caesar said as he flicked through his unread messages. Cell reception between the boonies of Lafourche Parish and the boonies of Terrebonne Parish was notoriously suspect and he’d gotten dozens upon dozens of notifications when service returned.

“You say that like your parents are going to pop up at 7 in the morning and question what you’ve been doing before that,” Ron said. He walked slightly hunched over from the battering his mid-section had taken.

“Not the point.”

Britton walked out the field house behind them and scanned the crowd before speaking. “I’m going to sit this one out, guys. Me and Janelle are going to hit up the Waffle House and then go back to her stepdad’s for the night.”

“You’re not sitting out shit. Tell Janelle that I said that y’all can have one of the guest rooms to yourselves when y’all want to call it a night. I’ll even give y’all some fresh sheets to fuck to your little hearts’ content,” Caesar said.

“She doesn’t really like hanging out with us, man.”

Ron shook his head. “We’ve been through thick and thin together, B. You can’t let a woman come between us in our last few months together as a team! Caesar offering y’all a good deal. He doesn’t even let me get a guest room.”

“Don’t you stay in the guest house after the parties at his?” Britton asked.


Caesar spotted Emma, waiting for him as he’d told her to, by the gate to the street. “Just tell Janelle what I said and throw in that I’ll even promise to not make any poor kid jokes for the entire night or she can punch me in the dick.”

Caesar broke away from the two of them and worked his way through the crush of parents waiting for their kids. Some of them gave him dirty looks, but it wasn’t anything that he wasn’t used to and nothing that he wouldn’t get again a thousand times over.

Emma was turned away from him when he reached her so he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She yelped and looked back with fight in her eyes, but calmed down when she saw it was him.

“Hey, look who I stumbled across,” she said, nodding to Scarlett who was standing next to her.

Caesar raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing out here? King was one of the first one’s out of the door.”

“He left me,” Scarlett said.

“I could drop you by your house on our way to mine.”

Emma looked up at Caesar and then back to Scarlett. “Or, you could just come party with us. Anytime a guy pisses me off, I always go to a good party to get my mind off the fuckery.”

Scarlett glanced at Caesar for his input, but he only shrugged.

“C’mon. You know it was fun hanging with us the other day. We won’t do anything that’ll get you killed or arrested. It’ll be fun,” Emma said, prodding further.

“I won’t drink too much in case you decide you want to leave,” Caesar offered.

He, of course, made that same offer last time and she had to Uber her way home. Nonetheless, she nodded slowly. “Okay, I’ll come.”


Sitting in Jamie’s stepmother and father’s house, Devin found himself growing increasingly regretful for lying to Scarlett about his desire to go home and just go to sleep. Albeit, he did intend to go home before Hasan got a text from Bart for them to come through to hang out for a bit before they all turned in for the night.

Judging from the chubby little boy nuzzled in Jamie’s arms, Devin suspected it was just a ploy for Bart to avoid his fatherly duties for a little longer.

Jamie’s dad walked down the hallway, scratching at a rotund stomach that was barely hidden by a dirty wife beater. He looked at Devin, Hasan and Bart and held up a five dollar bill. “Can one of y’all go get me some smokes?”

“It’s like one in the morning,” Jamie said. “That’s not even enough.”

“Make it enough,” he said, tossing the bill on the dirty coffee table and heading back down the hall.

Bart sighed and snatched the money up before shoving his feet into his shoes. “Devin, you could run me up to the chink store?”

“The what?” Devin asked.

“Doo’s. At the corner of Scott and Park.”

Devin shrugged, stood up and picked up his keys, following Bart to the door. Hasan, who had been nodding off, hopped up and jogged behind them out of the door.

“Hurry up!” Jamie shouted behind them before the door closed.

Hasan laughed as the three of them got into Devin’s car. “So, let me get this straight. Yo ass got kicked out ya auntie’s house ‘cause you knocked her ass up so you gotta live with her nasty ass people? That’s why I don’t mess with no white women like you niggas.”

Bart shook his head. “It’s the price I gotta pay. The pussy is fire though. Jamie’s anyway. I try to stick to our sisters, too.”

Devin backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the main street to leave the neighborhood. Jamie lived on the edge of Terrebonne’s catchment area. He briefly wondered if she’d still be a teen mother if she lived across the street and went to H.L. instead.

“Speaking of white folks, I’m a deny it if y’all tell anyone I said this, but that motherfucker Britton a real one. He was all the way with the shits tonight,” Bart said. “I don’t know about his homeboys, they pussy, but he was throwing haymakers like Wilder back in the day.”

“That’s why you gotta keep a white boy or two around,” Hasan said. “Good thing coach ain’t see the shit, but he dropped their quarterback at the end of the game.”

“He probably doesn’t care anymore because he’s going to a shit school,” Devin said, pulling to a stop at a red light. There were no other cars on the street and it made him a tad nervous that a cop would pull up out of nowhere and ask why they were out.

“Damn, not even a preferred walk on somewhere like LSU?”

Devin shook his head. “That’s not what he told me. Sounds like he’s going to some barely Division I school.”

“Better than having to go the JUCO route. Turn there,” Bart said, pointing to one of the many bridges along Main Street in Houma. “I’m probably going to have to go some small ass hick town for a year or two to get to D1. That’s it right there. Pull up on the side.”

Devin did as he was told and pulled his car into a spot on the side of the store. Outside, various ragtag groups of people loitered around. Most of them looked like they hadn’t showered in weeks. As Bart walked toward the store, he swatted away a few of them who approached him with their hands out.

“This the ghetto ghetto,” Hasan said. “I see why he livin’ with his girl people.”

“The school is right across the bayou. We passed it getting here,” Devin said.

“Man, I ain’t never been over here at night. It’s different. I ain’t know it was like this out here. This the fuckin’ country.”

Devin shrugged and looked out the window at the people eyeing him from the other side of the glass. “You know what they say about assumptions.”

Moments later, Bart walked out of the store, holding a bag and a styrofoam container. He said something to one of the loiterers that made them laugh before he got back in Devin’s car.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the bag and held it up. “Y’all think this the shit he smoke?”

“You don’t know for sure?” Devin asked, his hand reaching for the shift selector.

“Nope.” He put the pack back in the bag and put the styrofoam container on his lap. “You mind if I eat in your car?”

“Go ahead.”

Hasan looked around the seat as Bart opened up the box to reveal boiled shrimp. “Nigga, you eatin’ shrimp from a place that you called the ‘chink’ store?”

Bart rolled down the window and threw a discarded head out of it. “These motherfuckers be hitting different in the morning, bruh.”

“This is fuckin’ Houma. It’s shrimp everywhere and you chose to eat Chinese shrimp from a hood corner store? Tell me I’m not the only one think this is crazy, Devin.”

Devin only shook his head and let the two of them continue their argument about the shrimp. His mind suddenly wandering to Scarlett and hoping she’d gotten home safely after her refusal to let him bring her home and her lack of responses to his texts.


Scarlett looked around, shocked at the buzz of energy around her. Caesar said that they were only having a “little get together” and there must’ve been 40 people in and around his house. She asked him if he was concerned about people stealing things, but he simply said that his parents likely didn’t know what they owned themselves to know it’d been stolen.

Emma poured vodka into three shot glasses and shoved one each into Caesar and Scarlett’s hands. Caesar knocked back the shot with the practiced motion of a regular drinker. Emma cringed a little as she drank hers. They both looked at Scarlett.

“I’ve never actually drank. Unless you count the wine at mass,” she said, eyeing the clear liquid in the small glass.

Emma poured herself another shot and held up the glass. “Just drink it quick. It’s just like the first time you swallow, you know?”

“Swallow what?”

Caesar shook his head. “You don’t want to know what she’s talking about.”

Emma put her hand under Scarlett’s and lifted, coaxing her to drink the vodka as she did the same. Closing her eyes, Scarlett threw back the shot and immediately started coughing. Emma cringed less this time around.

“In nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, amen,” Caesar said, laughing as he made the sign of the cross in front of her. He snatched a bottle of water out of the hand of someone who was passing by and handed it to her. “Here, drink this.”

She took the bottle and drank deeply. Before the aftertaste even subsided, Emma was replacing the water bottle with another shot. Caesar quickly took the shot glass out of Scarlett’s hand and drank the vodka himself.

“Caesar, c’mon! You can’t just take a girl’s shots!” Emma said.

“Two shots and this lightweight will be falling on the floor. Not everyone has been knocking them back since they could walk,” he said.

Emma rolled her eyes, snatched up the bottle and stalked off to find someone to get drunk with.

“Thank God,” Scarlett said. “I’m already feeling light headed after one of those. That’s not normal, right?”

Caesar shrugged. “Fuck if I know. I’m not a doctor. Come on. We probably have wine coolers in here somewhere so you can drink and not get drunk.”

He put his arm around her shoulders to lead her through the crowd and she stiffened instinctively. He pulled away.

“My bad. Bad habit,” he said. “Used to being the battering ram for people trying to navigate around, you know?”

“No, it’s fine. Just not used to too many people touching me,” she said, offering him a smile.

“Alright, let’s find you something to drink that won’t get you drunk.”

Scarlett followed Caesar down the hall to his room, the sounds of the dying get together drowned out by the floor below. He opened the door and motioned her inside.

“You really don’t care if people steal, do you?” she asked as she walked into the room.

Caesar looked around at the almost bare room. “I don’t think anyone is going to be coming in here and hitting the jackpot. Besides, can’t throw parties at your house if you’re going to be worried about people stealing from you all the time. You can take the bed. I’ll find a guest room to crash in.”

She started to walk over to it, but hesitated. “Are you sure Emma’s not going to be mad? Do you even know where Emma is?”

“Yeah. Ron sent me a text a while ago. She’s been with him for a little bit now I’m guessing. She’s mad, but she won’t do anything to you.”

“With Ron?”

Caesar nodded as he opened a closet near the door and pulled sheets out of it. “If I had to guess, they’re probably fucking. Or were fucking. Might not be happening currently.”

“What?! Isn’t she your girlfriend?! Isn’t he your best friend?! Why are you up here and not down there?!”

“It’s not that serious.” He laughed as he continued to rummage through the closet. “It’s just sex and I don’t reeeaally like her all that much so if she wants to go fuck Ron to get back at me then I hope she and Ron both have a good time. Besides, Ron and I mostly share on that front. All consensual of course.”

“Share? Good Lord. That’s just—I don’t even know what to say,” Scarlett said, walking over to the bed and sitting down. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

“Again. It’s just sex. It’s something fun and enjoyable to do. If I’m bored, have sex. If I’m tired, have sex. If I’m happy, have sex. If I’m sad, have sex. If I’m stressed, have sex. If I’m horny, have sex.”

She shook her head. “It’s not just sex. Sex is more than that.”

Caesar walked over to the dresser along the wall near his bed and leaned against it, facing her. “I get it. I am a God-fearing Catholic, too, but once you get that thought out of your head. It just makes it what it is. Sex, fucking, getting skins, knocking boots, bumping uglies, whatever you want to call it. You get your nut, have yourself a good time, pull your pants up, and go about your business.”

“You’re oversimplifying it.”

“You’re overcomplicating it.”

“Having sex doesn’t just whisk away your problems!”

“You’ve never done it. You wouldn’t know. I’ve never sucked a dick or have any desire to do so, but who am I to tell a gay guy that sucking dick isn’t cathartic if he says it is?”

“That’s horrible logic.”

Caesar shrugged. “You’re stressed right now, right? That’s why you’re here in the first place, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“You want to fuck?”

“What? N—no,” she spluttered. “You know I’m with Devin.”

Caesar drummed his fingers against the dresser. “And I’m with Emma, who we’ve already established is probably in the guest house sucking Ron’s dick.”

“I’m saving myself for marriage.”

“Let’s make a deal with the Lord then. I don’t know how sex ed goes at Terrebonne, but Sister Boudreaux always said sex involves penises going into vaginas. You don’t question Sister Boudreaux.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. “I’m not getting your point. I’m not cheating and I’m saving myself.”

“I’m changing my offer. No penises will be entering any vaginas in here tonight.” He pushed away from the dresser and walked around to sit on the bed next to her. “So, if we don’t have sex, you can’t be cheating. And you’d still be saving yourself for when you become Mrs. King or whatever the fuck.”

“Right? You’re losing me here.”

“You’re stressed. I’ve been with a lot of chicks. Oral does them right just like dick. We can test your theory that orgasms don’t whisk away your problems, and you won’t be cheating because oral ain’t sex.”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever become a lawyer. You’d have all of your clients in prison.”

“It’s a simple yes or no, Scar. If you say no, I’ll get up, head down the hall somewhere and be back to bring you home when the sun’s up. If yes, lay back and it’ll be our secret.”

She was quiet for a moment and Caesar could see the wheels turning in her head. There was a pregnant pause and he started to get up to head to the guest room. He was halfway to standing up when he felt her shift her weight.

Then, Scarlett scooted further up on the bed and laid back.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 16 Oct 2019, 23:25

Knew I hated this bitch. :drose:
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 16 Oct 2019, 23:26

All Falls Down

The sound of his phone pinging with dozens of incoming texts jolted Caesar awake. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at the flood of notifications – all from angry texts and missed calls from Emma. He silenced the phone before throwing it across the room and laid back down.

He sat up again.

He looked down and noticed the arm slung over his waist. Looking over his shoulder, Scarlett lay in his bed with the comforter pulled up to her neck. He would’ve thought she would’ve snuck out, but he was impressed at his ability to put her to sleep.

Smiling to himself, he threw his feet out of the bed and sat up fully. He ran his hand through his hair and made a mental note to make a visit to his barber. He snatched up his boxers and pulled them on, moving his foot out of the way when a used condom fell to the floor. He let it lie there.

“Fucking condoms,” he muttered to himself as he stood and headed for the door.

When he got to the first floor, he noticed a couple people he barely knew sleeping on the floor. He kicked them awake.

They looked up groggily.

“Get the fuck out. Now.” He jabbed a finger at the door to match his tone.

They grumbled a few curses but rolled to their feet all the same and made their exit. Caesar waited until the door closed to continue toward the dining area. Around the table sat Ron, Britton and Janelle. Ron shoved a plate of waffles over to an empty seat which Caesar sat in.

“I’m always jealous of the fact your family has a fucking cook,” Ron said as he chewed on a piece from the waffle he was holding in his hand.

Caesar shook his head as he tore pieces off a waffle himself. “Pierre’s a pain in the ass sometimes, though. He must’ve felt sorry for us if he made this.”

“Do either of you know how to use a fork?” Janelle asked, her lip curled up.

“Why are you still here?”

“Where the fuck are your clothes, Caesar?” Britton asked, changing the subject.

He looked down at the boxers he was wearing and then pointed to them. “I’m dressed, man. It’s not like my dick is swinging all over the place.”

“Emma’s fucking heated, bro.” Ron held up his phone which was filled with notifications from the girl. “There was only so many times I could tell her that I didn’t know where you disappeared off, too, before she started to get crazy.”

“What’d you tell her then?” Caesar asked through a mouthful of waffles.

“I kicked the crazy bitch out. She’s not my girlfriend. She’s yours.”

Caesar shrugged. “You were fucking her. She was yours for the night.”


Janelle rubbed Britton’s shoulder. “Thanks, babe.”

“For what?” he asked.

“Not thinking it’s okay to pass women around like your dickhead friends.”

“Hey!” Ron shouted. “Don’t say it like I raped her. She was trying to get back at Caesar and thought fucking me was the way to do it. And I don’t turn it down when it’s thrown at me. It’s not like Caesar cared.”

“I would’ve given you some condoms if you asked,” Caesar said, nodding.

“She’s not on the pill?”

Caesar shrugged.

“Dude, tell me she’s on the fucking pill. You don’t use fucking condoms. She has to be on the pill.”

Caesar shrugged again. Then started laughing.

Ron kicked at his legs under the table. “Cunt. You had me thinking I’d gone and knocked the crazy bitch up.”

“You guys are disgusting,” Janelle said, rolling her eyes.

“So, where were you if you weren’t with Emma?” Britton asked Caesar.

A commotion from the foyer cut off Caesar’s chance to answer. The four of them leaned forward to see around a plant. There, Scarlett did her best to not look in their direction and she pulled on her shoes. Once she had them on, she hot footed it out of the door without so much as glancing to her right or left.

“Did I just see what I think I saw?” Janelle asked. “Tell me I didn’t see what I think I saw.”

Ron turned around and chuckled. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw, but I know I just saw a walk of shame.”

Britton rubbed his temples with his thumbs as if fighting back a headache. “Do you purposefully seek out the most problematic girls to fuck or does the shit just follow you? What you think is going to happen if that shit gets out? You know Emma has a big mouth.”

“If? He should be a man and tell Devin what happened himself,” Janelle said.

Caesar laughed, sitting back in the chair and continuing to tear at pieces of waffle. But he didn’t answer what Janelle said or show any effort in defending himself.


Devin walked up to Scarlett’s house, a box of petit fours in hand and $20 poorer after having to pay Michael to take his shift so that he could spend time with Scarlett. His co-worker actually went up on his fee once Devin told him why he needed the day off.

He knocked on the door and walked inside as he’d done a thousand times before. Scarlett’s mother poked her head out of the kitchen and smiled when she saw Devin. She crossed over to him and gave him a hug – another ritual when he was at the Babineaux residence.

“Sha, what you got there?” the woman asked, tapping the box. “You not doing no making up for nothing now, are you?”

“No, ma’am,” Devin said, laughing. “I just had to pass by the Rouse to get someone to take my shift and decided to buy these while I was in there. Is Scarlett here?”

“No, I don’t think so. I ain’t hear her come in, me. I think she’s at Tiffany’s. That’s who she went to the game with.”

Devin nodded. “Well, I can come back later when she comes home.”

“Don’t be silly, you. C’mon and sit down. I’m frying some shrimp. That old man of mine went down Dulac yesterday and got us some nice 29/30s. Two of ‘em and you’ll be full full.” She laughed as she turned and walked back into the kitchen.

Devin followed her and sat down at the kitchen table. He took his phone out but frowned when he saw that he’d still not gotten a response from Scarlett to any of the dozen or so texts that he’d sent her in the last few hours. Tiffany had sent him a snotty response back when he’d texted her and Erin said she was in Slidell for the weekend.

He sat, listening to Mrs. Babineaux hum some Cajun folk song as she busied herself behind the stove. He spun the box of petit fours on the table to entertain himself by watching the little flowers on the pastries wind around themselves.

Minutes later, he heard a door close outside. He jumped up from the table and went outside, hoping to catch Scarlett before she walked into the house so he could apologize for being a dick without her mother hearing him.

She froze when she saw him on the sidewalk, eyes wide.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her voice was soft and strained.

“I came to apologize for last night and finally spend some real time with you,” he said. “I bought you some petit fours. They’re the shit Rouses kind, but it’s better than coming empty handed, right? Your mom’s frying shrimp, too.”

She blinked a few times and then burst into tears. Devin all but ran over to her and wrapped her in his arms.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Something happen at Tiffany’s?”

“I—I wasn’t at Tiffany’s.”

“Where were you then?”

She looked up at him, sniffing back a bit of the deluge of tears. “You love me, right?”

“Yeah, of course, I do.”

“I can’t lie to you.”

Devin scrunched his face up in confusion. “Lie about what, Scar? What happened?”

“I was mad at you and I went to Caesar’s for a party.”

“Did someone fucking hurt you?” Devin asked, suddenly angry.

Another torrent of tears streaked her face. “No. I had sex with Caesar. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but—”

She was cut off when Devin shoved away from her and took a few steps back to put some distance between the two of them.

“I’m going to go now,” he said plainly.

“Devin, wait! Let me explain!” she shouted. “I just felt like you weren’t paying attention to me anymore and I don’t know. It’s stupid and I’m sorry!”

Devin ignored her as he reached into his pocket for his keys. When he kept up empty, he cursed to himself and stalked back into the house to get them from the kitchen table. Scarlett was hot on his heels still trying to explain herself.

Mrs. Babineaux turned around at their presence. “Sha, why you crying?”

Devin snatched the keys up and quickly headed back outside. Scarlett continued to follow him.

“Please say something, Devin!”

He got into his car and cranked it up. Scarlett stood outside the door with her hands clasped in front of her mouth. He rolled down the window and a new round of sobs came from her, but she waited for him to speak.

Devin looked down and then back at her. “Back up so I don’t run over your feet.”

“Devin, please don’t leave without saying something. At least, tell me you love me!” Despite her pleas, she did take two steps back away from his car.

Devin rolled the window back up, put the car in reverse and pulled out of the driveway, leaving her there with her tears and her regret.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 17 Oct 2019, 01:44

Good shit, let her wilt.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 17 Oct 2019, 19:02

Fort Sumter

“Bruh, these fuckin’ breakfast burritos be hittin’ different on Mondays. I don’t even care that the shit came out a gas station microwave like two hours ago. We need to start a hustle on these things so we ain’t broke when we get to a university.”

Devin ignored Hasan’s ramblings about breakfast burritos as he sat at the second to last red light before getting to Terrebonne’s student parking lot. His hands gripped and released the steering wheel and his left leg bounced against the floor of the car.

“You did that shit for Mrs. Patin class?” Hasan asked.

Devin shrugged, but didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what assignment their history teacher had given to the class and he wasn’t concerned about it. He had no problem taking the zero. It was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment.

They passed under the last light and merged into the traffic inching down the street in front of Houma Junior High. Usually, the wait didn’t bother him, but today it was making him want to pull over in the old community college parking lot and just leave his car there.

“You alright, bruh? You unusually quiet.”

Devin only shrugged again as they inched forward. He glanced at the clock on the dash. 7:03. Still about ten minutes before students would have to be in their homerooms.

He’d never done what he had on his mind, but he was going to do it anyway.

He waited until the cars in the opposite lane passed and turned onto the road that led into the student parking lot. As usual, it was mostly full save for a few spots on the far edge. Hasan grabbed his bag from the floor as Devin navigated toward an open spot.

He looked to his right and saw Caesar laughing with his friends. It seemed like he was regaling them with some humorous tale that they were all engrossed by.

Devin swung into an empty spot and barely put the car into park before he hopped out and started walking toward Caesar.

Hasan got out of the car. “You forgot your shit, bruh!”

Devin ignored him and pulled off his uniform shirt, tossing it on the ground. He heard footsteps running up behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Hasan had discarded his bag and was following him.

Turning back, he could hear Caesar’s laugh as he got closer. He balled his right hand into a fist, his nails digging into his hand.

He shoved Bentley out of the way and threw his entire body into punching Caesar square in the jaw. Caesar fell onto the trunk of his car, taken off guard by Devin. Seizing his opportunity, Devin put his left hand on Caesar’s neck and swung with his right, landing solid shots to his face.

“What the fuck are you doing, King?!” Ron shouted, grabbing Devin’s arm.

Before Ron could try to pull Devin off Caesar, Hasan tackled the quarterback to the ground and the two of them began fighting as well.

A crowd quickly formed being treated to not one, but two fights now.

The momentarily pause in Devin’s assault when Ron grabbed him gave Caesar an opportunity to grab him around the waist and flip him onto the ground. Being a good bit smaller, Devin was basically powerless to stop it from happening.

He hit the pavement hard, the air being forced from his lung. White exploded in his vision as Caesar punched him in the face. The second and third punches had his head swimming. By the fifth one, he was starting to regret his decision to get into a fight with an overgrown man child. He covered his head as best he could with his arms.

It was a good thing he had as the smell of pepper took over thanks to the SRO macing all four of them. The officer pulled Caesar off Devin and put a knee in his back as a few male teachers yoked up Devin, Hasan and Ron.

“Y’all going to enjoy your stay at the booty palace since you want to fight early in the morning!” the cop yelled as he struggled getting his handcuffs out to slap onto Caesar’s wrists.

“I was fucking defending myself!” Caesar shouted, spitting blood out of his mouth as if to show he’d been attacked.

“Shut up and put your hands behind your back.”

Devin rubbed at his burning eyes, catching glimpses of the crowd of his fellow students who’d formed around them. He could already feel his face beginning to swell and he cringed when his hand brushed a cut under his eye.

He was yanked to his feet and shoved toward the school by the teacher next to him. He and Caesar caught each other’s stare and Caesar spat at his feet.

“Your bitch took the dick like a champ, motherfucker,” he said.

Devin lunged at him but the student resource officer held up his can of mace threateningly so Devin backed off.

“This isn’t over,” Devin said as they were all led to the assistant principal's office to get confirmation of their suspensions.

Devin, Hasan and Ron sat outside of the offices, all nursing bruises, cuts and the lingering effects of pepper spray despite using a chemistry lab’s eye wash to flush their eyes. Caesar was inside with Mr. Hebert, the assistant principal, loudly pleading his case despite the district’s zero tolerance rule.

Hasan tilted his head back and held his shirt up to his face to staunch blood coming from his nose. He glanced over at Devin who had his head in his hands. Then he looked at Ron. “You caught me with that one left. I ain’t gone lie.”

“I caught you more than one left and a few rights,” Ron said as he inspected his torn shirt and the grass stains and mud on his pants. “For what it’s worth, King?”

Devin glanced up.

“At least you can say you fought for your girl even if it got your and your friend’s asses whooped.”

Devin shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“We can go for round two right now if you think you won,” Hasan said.

Ron laughed. “You don’t want these problems, man. I know you’re coming this time.”


For the next two days rumors swirled around Terrebonne High regarding the early morning throwdown between the mild-mannered Devin King and the boisterous Caesar Jenkins. The person in the middle, of course, hadn’t been to school the entire week.

Devin and Caesar avoided each other when their suspensions were over and they’d returned to school, but there was one place that they couldn’t avoid one another.

“Count it out, Thaddeus!” Coach Hill shouted, walking through the lines of the team as they went through their pre-practice stretching.

There were some grumbles about Trigga leading the exercise as that was a captain’s job and the backup quarterback was not a captain. Of course, missing three of four practices in a week made a player ineligible for Friday.

Caesar straightened up and waited as the rest of the team completed the stretches.

“Why aren’t you stretching, Jenkins?” Coach Hill asked. “You’ve been at home the last few days, you should be ready to work.”

“Fuck all that, coach. This isn’t a yoga body. I don’t need to stretch to dominate these chumps in practice.”

There were a few snickers around the team.

“Sounds like Caesar wants to earn everyone stadiums until the sun goes down. We’re a team after all and where one of us deserves discipline, we all deserve discipline.”

Bart stood up and looked at Caesar. “Fucking do the shit, nigga. I’m not trying to run for your bitch ass.”

“Who asked you to open your mouth?”

“Respect to my boy, Devin, but I ain’t him. I’ll knock your stupid ass out.”

Everyone oooh’d and aaah’d and looked back at Devin who only shrugged, not caring about Bart’s comments.

“That’s enough of that. Count them out,” Coach Hill said.

Caesar stalked over to Bart and shoved him. “Nah, you aren’t King. But just like I fucked his bitch, I fucked yours, too, motherfucker. Don’t worry, that ugly ass kid is definitely yours. Jamie was calling me daddy though.”

Bart tackled Caesar to the ground and the two of them started trading blows. The rush to separate them sparked a chain reaction of other scuffles sparking off around the field. Guys who’d had problems with each other all season took it as an opportunity to hash it out with their fists.

Members of the marching band practicing on the other side of the stadium rushed over with their phones at the sound of the commotion, soon joined by the dance team. And almost instantly, dozens of videos of the undefeated Terrebonne football team fracturing into two on the field popped up on social media.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 18 Oct 2019, 04:06

Caesar the definition of a team cancer. Goddamn, this nigga sucks.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 23 Oct 2019, 19:44

First Manassas

“It’s a disgrace, plain and simple. The school district and the diocese knew something like this would happen last year when they decided to go through with this idiotic plan. These kids are too different. They have different values, different upbringings, different ways of handling things. There are just too different to be forced into a school together. They need to step up the pace on repairing Vandebilt or force E.D White to take these kids out of that environment.”

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, was what Terrebonne Parish councilman Dirk Landry had to say about the viral video of a brawl breaking out during practice a few days ago at Terrebonne High. The videos all start once fists are already flying, but some of the old Vandebilt boosters who attend practices tell me that it all started when Caesar Jenkins was attacked by Shawntoine Jackson.”

“C’mon, bo. Everybody that know football in this parish know Caesar Jenkins, just like his daddy before him, ain’t usually on the right side of these things. If Jackson went after him, mais, I gotta say he had a reason.”

“Well, we’ll never know about that. But what we do know is that the aforementioned Caesar Jenkins is suspended for tonight’s game along with Devin King, Hasan Santiago and Ron DeRossi after they were suspended from school on Monday. Another hush-hush situation here, but some kids are saying it’s because of a separate fight involving those four which could’ve led to Wednesday’s fracas.”

“Lord, this gonna be the start of a good Boudreaux and Thibodaux joke in a few years. They worse than the Houmas and the Biloxi-Chitimacha-Choctaw!”


“Jackson is stopped at the line of scrimmage and it’s the second consecutive three and out for Terrebonne tonight. You’ve got to give it to this Thibodaux defense. They are really taking advantage of Thaddeus Williams being in at quarterback for the suspended Ron DeRossi.”

Coach Hill dragged his hand down his face as the offense trudged off the field once again, confused by their sudden inability to run the offense as they had for the last four weeks. He could hear the boos coming from the home crowd. It was only halfway through the first quarter and the natives were already getting restless.

He looked behind him to where Hasan and Devin were sitting on the bench in street clothes as he’d ordered to let them feel the regret of letting their teammates down. He’d given the same order to Caesar and Ron, but he had no idea where they were. That would be a fight for next week though.

“Booooooooooooooo, you fucking suck!” Caesar shouted. “Get ‘em outta here, coach!”

Ron shoved him back from the bleachers railing and shook his head. Reaching over to snatch a nacho out of the tray in Francesca's lap, he leaned back himself. “It’s going to be a long enough night for them without you joining in with the boo birds.”

“Yeah, Caesar. Don’t be a dick,” Riley said, her head buried in her phone.

Caesar sighed and leaned back, wishing for a chair back for the bleachers. Emma sat next to him, her hands in the pocket of his jacket to stave off the cold. The news about him fucking Scarlett only pissing her off for a day or two.

He glanced around the crowd, wondering if Devin’s, now-ex, girlfriend had decided to attend the game. Given her week-long absence from school, the answer was no.

“You want to put some money on the score?” Caesar asked Ron, swatting at his pocket.

“Absolutely not. I’m not trying to have any bad karma brought down on me because you’re trying to make money off getting your own ass suspended.”

“Last I checked, you’re up here with me and not down there.”

Ron shrugged. “Yeah, but that’s not the point.”

“C’mon. $100 on Thibodaux winning. I’ll even give you 21 points. Are you game?”

“There’s no way that Thibodaux’s winning by more than 21.” Ron reached into his pocket for his wallet and shook his head when he saw it was empty. “I’ll send the money to you if I lose, but I’m not going to so you can just cashapp me now.”

Caesar laughed. “We’ll see, bro.”

“Clint Daigle dives into the endzone and Thibodaux extends their lead to 11 here in the second quarter. The Tigers are really on the ropes!”

“Cazayoux misses the block and Williams is slammed into the turf for a huge sack! Terrebonne’s going to have to punt it away once again.”

“Skylar LaJaunie trips and Trivon Garner is off to the races. He’s going to waltz into the endzone and make it 21-3 Tigers, the purple and gold ones, here in the waning seconds of the second quarter. That Thibodaux sideline is fired up!”

Hasan and Devin stood outside of the locker room, barred from entering as part of their suspensions, as the team was reamed by Coach Hill and the rest of the coaching staff. Both of them stared out onto the field where the marching band went through its halftime show in front of a half empty stadium. Either because people had started to leave early or because they’d made their way to the concession stands to drown their sorrows in greasy food.

“This shit fuckin’ sucks dick,” Hasan said as he leaned on a pillar on the sidewalk. “Look at the fuckin’ score, man. We’re getting our asses beat by a team that’s 1-3. ONE AND THREE. All because Jenkins can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

Devin shrugged as he sipped from a cup of Gatorade. “I did punch him and start the fight.”

“That shit was justified. You just should’ve stole off on him at practice so it would’ve been handled by coach and not with the school dumbass rules.”

“You live and you learn, huh?”

“You better stop readin’ them fuckin’ self-help books in the store. Talkin’ ‘bout any ‘you live and you learn.’”

“You know about all this recruiting stuff more than I do,” Devin said, staring out to the stands and wondering how many scouts were disappointed to learn that Terrebonne’s two best players wouldn’t be in action. “Do you think something like this is a red flag?”

Hasan shook his head. “Nah. Niggas get into fights all the time. As long as we ain’t out there cookin’ crack or fuckin’ minors then we’ll be alright.”

“Good thing those two things have never been on my to-do list.”

“What? You ain’t got good wrist work in the kitchen?” Hasan laughed as he spun his wrist in a circle.

Devin shook his head at the antics before reaching into his pocket as his phone vibrated once more. He deleted the texts from Scarlett without so much as a second glance and put the phone back.

“Another blown assignment by Terrebonne and it’s an easy touchdown for Thibodaux from the 15 yard line. 27-3 Tigers.”

“Williams is picked off and it’s Thibodaux’s ball!”

“The handoff isn’t clean and Cazayoux puts the ball in the dirt. There’s a scramble for it and it looks like Thibodaux has come up with it! Thibodaux football on the Terrebonne 34!”

“Fazio dives into the endzone to make it 35-3 Thibodaux and the fans are started to head for the exits.”

“The visitor’s side of the stadium is counting down as the clock apporaches zero and that’s ballgame folks. The Terrebonne Tigers fall for the first time this season losing to the Thibodaux Tigers, 38-3. Terrebonne’s undefeated no more.”

Coach Hill pulled into his driveway, exhausted after a long night and a worst game. He gathered his stuff from the passenger seat and hopped out of his car. He scratched his forehead and pulled his visor back on.

Then he almost tripped over a sign stabbed into his yard.

He looked down and noticed it was a for sale sign. Looking up, he noticed that there were dozens of them jabbed throughout the yard.

“Danny?” his wife called from the door. She stepped outside with her arms wrapped around herself. “I thought that was you.”

“What’s all this?” He pointed to the signs.

She shrugged. “Some men were out here sticking those in the ground a while ago. I tried to shoo them away, but well, it is Louisiana and you know what they think about women telling them what to do. I guess y’all lost?”

“Yeah,” he said, putting his arm around her and steering her toward the door. “C’mon. I just want to go to sleep and worry about all this tomorrow.”
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 24 Oct 2019, 00:20

Shit's getting deep, huh. Interesting development. Keep it coming.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 24 Oct 2019, 22:12

Mending Fences

Devin laid on the top row of the bleachers in the Field House, hands crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. For the most part, the big, old building drowned out the noise of the students outside of it going about their lunch hour.

Friday’s loss had sapped the excitement out of the student body and everything had returned to normal without the football craze sweeping the campus. Despite the fact the team already had more wins than it had in years, teenagers were a fickle bunch.

That, and his situation with Scarlett, were reason enough the abandon his typical place in the bus circle for the Field House and a few moments of peace and quiet before he had to go back to class.

He heard the doors open and close and assumed it was the basketball coach heading back to his office on the opposite side so he remained lying down.

But the creaking on the old steps leading up from the court made him open his eyes and sit up. He groaned and smacked his head back against the wall when he saw Scarlett climbing the bleachers toward him.

“Who even told you I was in here?” Devin asked before she had reached him. “And why are you in here?”

“That one guy. Thaddeus? He told me.”

“Trigga? How do you know Trigga? You make some new friends in the last week or something?”

She sighed as she came to a stop next to him. “No, I know he plays football with you and Hasan wouldn’t tell me anything so I asked him.”

“I should’ve given him a picture and told him ‘don’t tell this bitch where I am,’” Devin said, miming holding up a picture and pointing to it.


“That’s what I said.”

“I guess I deserve that.”

“Yeah. So, what do you want? I was trying to sleep if you couldn’t tell.”

She sat down next to him and wrung her hands in her lap. “I just wanted to apologize again. You haven’t been answering my texts and my calls and I didn’t know when you were home so I couldn’t go over there and try to talk to you.”

“Yeah, I know. That was all on purpose.”

“Can you just let me apologize and stop being a dick?”

Devin held his hand out and turned toward her to show that he was going to listen to her.

“I’m really sorry about what happened, Devin. I haven’t been able to sleep. Haven’t been able to look at myself in the mirror. Everything just happened so fast and I don’t know. I just fucked up. I do love you and hope that we can start over. Is there a way I can fix it?”

“You do realize that I got punched in the face over this, right?” he asked. He pointed to the almost healed cut on his face. “Like I was the one who did something wrong. I shouldn’t even have been fighting for that in the first place.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You know if you wanted to be one of Caesar’s lays then you could’ve just told me. We could’ve broken up without all the hassle and you would’ve been able to go get fucked as much as you want. I don’t know about you being number one for him though. That Emma chick seems to have that locked up.”

“That’s not what I wanted. I don’t know what I want. Well, I do. I want us to be back together.”

Devin steepled his hands in front of his face. “Please, do tell how you expect to make that happen. You cheated on me. We’re graduating from high school in a year and change. What if we do get back together and we end up on different ends of the country? I can’t trust you not to cheat on me again so we’d just have to break up again.”

“You can trust me!”

“What kind of shit are you smoking that helped you come to that? No, I fucking can’t. That’s why we’re here.”

“There has to be something I can do to fix it.” She looked around the Field House and then back at Devin. “How about we just have sex? That has to be part of it, right? I broke a promise to you and made you wait when I didn’t so I can fix that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, if you want.”

“Right now?”

“At school?”


“Devin, I--”

He stood up and started walking down the bleachers toward the court. She got up and followed him, but he stopped when he put his foot on the discolored hardwood near the hallway leading to the inside entrance to the football locker room.

He turned around. “I’m actually good. I don’t want Caesar’s seconds, but it’s not even about that. It’s only about the trust that you threw away for some dick. And you didn’t even know what that was like when you made the decision. We can be friends, though.”

“Devin, please.”

He shrugged and headed for the locker room, figuring that she wouldn’t follow him in there. When the door closed behind him and he was alone, he knew he was right.

He sat down in front of his locker and stared up at the ceiling. For a moment, he thought about changing his mind and telling her that having sex would fix what she did. Just so he could see what it was like to finally do what it seemed like everyone else at the school was doing on the hour.

He jumped when he heard his phone vibrating in his duffel bag in the locker. Reaching his hand over his shoulder, he spun the lock to the right combination and opened the dented metal door. He expected to see a call or text from Scarlett.

Instead, he was met with an 850 number – an area code he didn’t know.


The person on the other end cleared their throat. “This Devin King?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“About time I get the right number. You know there’s four of you, right?”

“Yeaaaah. That’s how being named after someone works. Who is this again? And make it quick, I’m at school and can’t really talk.”

“That you are. Name’s Clay Reacher. I’m the defensive coordinator at Florida State University. Devin, how would you like to be a Seminole?”

Devin fought to contain the smile threatening to creep up on his face. As shitty as the last two weeks had been, a call from a Power 5 school could turn that around.

“That’s who you’re going to homecoming with?”

Anthony shrugged as he turned his phone back toward himself to look at the picture of the girl on it. “Yeah, man. She’s cute.”

Caesar scoffed. “’Cute’ is one way to put it.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad that he doesn’t have a choice because Emma’s going to clip his nuts if he keeps cheating on her,” Ron said as he pulled his shoes on. “I bet she’s expecting some extravagant way to ask her, too, right?”

“I think you should streak through the campus with only a banner that says ‘Emma, will you go to homecoming with me?’” Britton said, laughing to himself.

“Personally, I think he should helicopter in with a mariachi band playing as he walks up and gets down on one knee. Hell, might as well propose for real,” Bentley added.

“I see everyone has jokes today. It doesn’t matter who I go to the shit with. It only matters who I go home with. I might pawn Emma off on Ron for a night again,” Caesar said.

Ron waved his hand and shook his head. “No can do, man. I’m going with Francesca. We started dating for real yesterday. No more fucking around for a bit.”

“You sound like a bitch.”

“Just want to see what it’s like before I go off to college and swim in it.”

Coach Hill walked down the aisle of lockers with his visor crunched up in his hand. The man’s face was red from a practice of yelling and barking orders. “Jenkins, I need to see you in my office.”

Caesar threw his shirt on and followed the coach toward his office. Coach Hill shut the door behind him when he stepped inside. Caesar went to sit down, but the coach stopped him.

“You don’t need to sit. This will be quick.”

Caesar shrugged and started buttoning up his shirt. “Yeah?”

“Where were you Friday?” Coach Hill asked before sitting down at his desk and started to rummage through the papers on top of it.

“I was at the game. I got there late and the cops wouldn’t let me on to the field so I was sitting in the stands.”

“I remember telling you that you needed to be on the field. You getting to the game late has nothing to do with what I told you. You know what time we’re at the Field House before kickoff. You should’ve been there.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

The coach looked up from his rummaging. “How about ‘I’m sorry, coach. I fucked up. I should’ve done as I was told and been there to support the team even though I act like one of those NFL diva receivers.’? Want to give that a try?”

“I don’t think I did fuck up to be honest with you, coach. I was suspended Friday because I missed school because King decided he wanted to fight me. I don’t make decisions for other people and I shouldn’t be punished for the decisions of other people.”

“You are the most infuriating little shit that I’ve ever had the displeasure of coaching.”

“But the best,” Caesar countered.

“You’re suspended for the game Friday.”


“You heard me. You’re suspended Friday, too.”

“You can’t fucking suspend me again. I didn’t fucking do anything.”

Coach Hill reached forward and tilted the placard on the edge of his desk back, looking down at it. “Yep, that still says that I’m the head coach here. I can do whatever I want with my team, son. You better have your ass at practice on time all week and give 110 percent and your ass better be on the sideline Friday or you’ll be looking at another week off.”

“This team isn’t winning without me and Ron. You saw that last week.”

“Ron isn’t suspended. Just you. All this stuff starts and ends with you. You’re not bigger than this team and you’d do well to remember that. Flash in the pan receivers are a dime a dozen. Don’t let that number one recruit ranking fool you. They’re already looking at the next guy. College scholarships are still one year at a time if you didn’t know.”

Caesar clenched his jaw. “Is that it?”

“Yep. You can go.”

Caesar turned around and stalked out of the office. He ignored jokes from Ron, Bentley, Britton and Anthony as he snatched up his bag before leaving the locker room.

The cold wind bit at his bare arms outside, but his anger kept him from stopping to put his jacket on. He got into his car, threw the bag into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. He reached into the center console and pulled a white pill out, popping it into his mouth and swallowing it.

His phone dinged in his pocket. He initially thought to ignore it, but instead took it out.

‘Still technically hurricane season’ read a text from an unknown number.

‘Thanks for the heads-up?’ he tapped back.

‘When the next one comes to fuck up Louisiana, how about you spring for evacuation to somewhere nice like California instead of Galveston. I’ll even bring Val, Andrea and Dawn with me.’

It took a moment for his brain to connect the dots, but when he did, he called the number. The phone rang once and then went straight voicemail.

‘Not somewhere I can talk’

‘Shouldn’t you be at home about now?’

‘Not exactly, but exactly?’

He sighed as he typed back ‘David James, eh?’

He figured the conversation was over when he didn’t get a response after a few minutes. Saving her number into his phone, he reached into the center console for another pill before starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 26 Oct 2019, 04:06

Told that bitch Scarlett she gotta go and then got the call to be the next Deion? Solid day for my guy Devin.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 28 Oct 2019, 19:59

A New Contender

“You’re going to blow your fucking hand off. That’s not how you light the shit. Watch ou--”

Devin, Michael and Hasan dove out of the way as Will dropped a now-ignited Roman candle. The firework went off, sending balls of light across the pavement and sending the four of them dancing as they tried to avoid getting burned.

“Never trust the white boy with explosives,” Hasan said, brushing his pants off from where he’d fell of the ground. “Motherfucker gonna have me up here like JPP.”

“Who?” Will asked as he walked over the box of Roman candles that they’d found in the back of the store and promptly repurposed for their own amusement.

“Jason Pierre-Paul. A football player from like 30 years ago. He blew his fingers off with fireworks,” Devin said. He walked over to a row of tables and chairs and sat down, pulling his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his social pages.

“Didn’t he keep playing after?” Michael asked.

Hasan shook his head. “I can’t play without all my fingers, nigga. I’m a back. I gotta tote the rock.”

“Guess you better make sure you leave tonight with all 10 digits then.”

Ralph walked out of the store, followed by a couple cashiers. He looked over at the guys as he looked the door just as Will lit another Roman candle, this time keeping it in his hand. “Y’all know that shit's illegal in this parish, right?”

“So is fucking juvies,” Michael said under his breath. Devin and Hasan were close enough to hear him and laughed to themselves.

“If the cops come, don’t call me to get you out of that shit,” Ralph said as he strolled to his car. He chatted up a new cashier as he walked away.

Gina walked over and sat down next to Devin. She winked at him when he looked up, but didn’t say anything.

Hasan jogged to the table to sit down as well, leaning toward Gina. “Gina, I need to a date to homecoming. What’s up?”

“What’s up?”

“Yeah, what’s up? I’m tryin’ to have a good time in this podunk ass town and I know you know where all the afterparties at even though you don’t go to Terrebonne. So, what’s up? You tryin’ to roll with me?”

“I’m good. I’m boycotting Terrebonne,” she said as she kicked her feet up on a nearby chair.

“Boycotting Terrebonne? What could you possibly be boycotting Terrebonne for?” Devin asked.

“Probably that nigga Caesar,” Hasan said.

Gina laughed, wiping at her eyes for effect. “Hardly. I could have him eating out of my hand if I wanted. Y’all are the ones who make him out to be some kind of boy wonder.”

“Damn, it’s like that?”

“That’s what happens when you fuck with them white she-devils. They enslave us with that pink pussy and them mediocre dick sucking skills,” Michael said.

“Isn’t that racist?” Will asked. “I don’t think I know any ‘white she-devils.’”

“You know plenty.”

“I’ll take that crown,” Gina said with a shrug. “But nothing is mediocre about anything I do, honey. You need to check your sources.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” Hasan yelled. “I’m tryin’ to find out about it. Look, I’ll even take you to the Golden Corral before the dance.”

“You got a date, Devin?” she asked, ignoring Hasan.

Devin shook his head. “Nope. Not going.”

“We ain’t talkin’ about him. It makes sense, but he’s not goin’ to avoid his ex. Let that man be and let’s talk about how we’re goin’ to have us some fun Friday.”

“I can get you a date if you want,” Gina said to Devin, ignoring Hasan again.

“Sounds like a quick way to end up going to homecoming with a girl three times my size,” Devin said.

Gina laughed and pulled out her phone. She made some swipes across the screen before setting it on the table. A picture of a pretty brunette was on it. “I wouldn’t do that to you. This is who I had in mind. She’s one of my good friends. We go to school together. Her name’s Carla. She needs a nice guy like you.”

Devin looked at the picture. “That’s just chest up. She could still be fat. You seem like the type to hang out with fat chicks to make yourself look skinnier.”

“I do, but Carla’s not one.”

“Nigga, just say yes. What you got to lose? I know you ain’t waitin’ it out to take Scarlett ho ass back,” Hasan said.

“No, I’m not,” Devin said. He scratched at his forehead as he mulled his decision then shrugged. “If you think she’d be alright with it then I don’t mind, I guess. She’s probably going to tell you no, though. I wouldn’t want to be set up on a blind date.”

Gina smiled and snatched her phone up, her fingers already tapping out a text. “No, she won’t say no. She has a thing for black guys, I think. It’s why she can’t find anyone at Houma Christian. They’re all white.”

“She needs to stick to her own. Don’t get caught up in that devil pussy, D!” Michael shouted from out in the parking lot. “Find you a Nubian queen, bruh. Do it now before it’s too late!”

“This nigga out here thinkin’ he Louis Farrakhan,” Hasan said, shaking his head. He reached across the table and tapped Gina on her arm to get her attention. “Since you settin’ up my friend with your friend, it’s only right that we go together now.”

“I can set you up with my fat friend if you want? Sometimes, she smells like ham but don’t let that put you off,” she said.

“That’s fucked up.”

She shrugged. “It’s a cold world. But she has enough meat to keep both of you warm.”

“You sure that’s your friend? You’re talking about her kinda rough.”

She didn’t answer, but looked up from her phone and smiled at Devin. “Carla said she’ll come by here in a little bit and see if you’re as cute as I told her you are. Don’t fuck it up. I’m putting my reputation on the line here.”

“I’ll try my best,” Devin said.

Some thirty minutes passed and the street out in front of the store has gone from sparse to desolate. Michael and Will had gone through all the Roman candles and now sat with Devin, Hasan and Gina. They passed a bottle of stolen Jack Daniels between them, but Devin refrained.

“I don’t believe people really do that, man. No girl is letting a bunch of dudes fuck her one after another. This is real life, not porn,” Will said as he took a swig from the bottle and gave it to Michael.

“Gina, tell this man,” Hasan said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why in the world would you think that I know anything about that? It’s 2051 though. If some girl wants to take 40 dicks at a time, all I have to say about that is sis should get her.”

“Pussy gonna be looser than my grandmama purse strings on bingo night,” Michael said, shaking his head.

“Vaginas don’t work like that, dingus. A vagina can push a nine-pound baby out and snap back but you think a few four-inch dicks are going to stretch it out? I thought it was private school that they didn’t sex ed at.”

“It’s real, though, Will. Queens don’t do that shit, but these white bitches?” Michael paused and gestured toward Gina. “Don’t let ‘em fool you. They all the way out here.”

“How do you even know? There aren’t many white people at Ellender,” Will said. The bottle came back to him and he decided to take a more generous swig which prompted Michael to snatch it away from him.

“The ones that are there bust it open for a smile and a bit of smooth talking.”

“I heard all the girls there were lesbians,” Devin said.

“I can confirm that,” Gina said, laughing.

Hasan stopped mid-sip. “How can you confirm that unless you been doin’ some shit?”

“I’m not giving you material to beat your meat to later. You’ll just have to wonder how I know.”

Michael nudged Devin with his elbow. “See? Can’t trust these white she-devils.”

A white Jeep swung into the parking lot, bathing the pavement with light. It crept through the spaces before pulling to a stop on the curb in front of them. The girl that Gina had shown Devin hopped down from the driver’s side. She looked around the table. Noticing there was a lack of an empty chair, she went and sat on the arm rest of the chair Gina was sitting in.

She stared at Devin for a moment.

Gina smiled. “I told you he was cute. He looks even better when he’s sitting when these little shits.”

“I take offense to that,” Will said. “I think I’m adorable in a puppy kind of way.”

“No one wants to fuck their dog, Will.”

He raised his hand to argue then stopped and took his phone out of his pocket, burying his head in the screen.

Devin had to admit that she was prettier than he’d expected even with her hair up and an old hoodie that was a few sizes too big on. He nodded toward her. “I’m Devin, obviously.”

“Carla,” she said, flashing him a smile.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 29 Oct 2019, 15:45

Oh fuck yeah.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 29 Oct 2019, 21:20

Specializing in Failure

“Caesar, you’re not even looking!” Emma shouted as she held a red dress up to her body.

He glanced up from his phone. “Yes, because I’m not the one wearing the dress. You are. I don’t know why you would need my eyes. If you wouldn’t have waited until the last minute, we could’ve gone to New Orleans and done this with much better shit and got it tailored to your body.”

“I don’t have New Orleans and tailoring money. Don’t know if you remember but it was only a year ago that we had much stricter rules when it came to homecoming,” she said as she put the dress back and scanned the racks in front of her.

“I thought I was paying for this?”

“You are, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be a good girlfriend and not break the bank on a dress for a stupid high school dance.”

“If it’s stupid, why are you dragging me to it, again?”


Caesar decided that he’d let the conversation go given her non-answer. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked down, a small smile on his face as he saw another text from Kaley. Over the last couple days, their communication had ramped up. But they’d also set an unspoken rule that Caesar couldn’t mention Kaley’s beau. That, of course, wasn’t a problem. He had plenty experience acting like girls didn’t have the boyfriends they did.

“Caesar! You’re not listening to me again!” Emma whined. “Who are you texting that’s so important? It better not be Scarlett. I’ve tried to be friends with her, but you can’t keep it in your pants--”

He shrugged, considering he was able to tell the truth in relation to what she’d said. “I’m not texting Scarlett.”

She eyed him for a second, deciding if she was going to believe that or not. After a beat, she held up a purple dress. “What do you think about this one?

Caesar took it from her and turned it around until he found the zipper. He tugged the zipper down, back up, down, back up then down once more.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to see how easy this would be to take off you. I’m not trying to fumble with a zipper like a 12-year-old getting his first nut because you decided you wanted a dress with a broken zipper,” he said before handing the dress back to her.

“I never said that you’d be getting any Saturday night.”

“I’ll be getting some from you or I’ll be getting some from someone else. Either way, I’m going to be cumming in someone’s daughter Saturday night.”

Emma’s face turned red and she looked around to make sure that no one heard Caesar’s comment. When she was sure no one had, she swatted at his arm. “First of all, that’s disgusting. Secondly, the fuck you will be fucking someone else. I’ve let you get away with that long enough.”

“Let me?” he laughed. “I do what I want.”

“I just let you think that.” She went back to browsing the dresses.

Caesar’s phone vibrated once more and he was quick to look at it, chuckling to himself as he responded to a humorous text Kaley had sent him. Her next text came quickly, but as he was tapping something back, Emma snatched the phone out of his hand.

She looked at the screen and furrowed her eyebrows. “Who the fuck is Kaley?”

Instinctively, Caesar grabbed her wrist but let her go when he noticed the cashier staring at him thanks to a yelp escaping Emma’s mouth. He maneuvered himself so that he was between the cashier’s line of sight and Emma before yanking her arm down and pulling the phone from her hand.

“Don’t touch my shit,” he said quietly.

“Who is she?”

Caesar turned around and grabbed the purple dress off the rack, shoving it toward her. “I think this is the one for you. Let’s go get it, eh? As a matter of fact, hold on.”

He walked up and down the rows of dresses and pulled a dozen off the rack, not bothering to look at the size or take account of what color they were. As he passed Emma, he took the purple dress from her and stalked up to the register.

The cashier gave him an odd look as he dropped the dresses on the counter. “Does she need to try these on or--”

Caesar shook his head before taking out his wallet. “I’m buying them all.”

“We don’t do refunds.”

He smiled, albeit a fake one. “That’s quite alright. I’ll survive.”

Caesar walked into the family home and noticed the sound of voices coming from the living room. Walking into it, he found his parents and grandparents sitting across from each other. His father and grandfather were leaned over the coffee table, looking at some documents, while his mother and grandmother both nursed glasses of alcohol.

“Hey, sweetie,” his mother said, smiling at him as he sat down in a chair between the two sofas. “How was your day?”

“Long. All this homecoming shit is exhausting.”


He held his hands up. “Sorry. I just don’t see what’s wrong with going somewhere, getting what you need, putting it on and then going to the dance and calling it a year on this.”

His grandmother, Cassia, laughed. “That’s not what normal people do. Normal people fret over everything. We can just buy whatever and roll the dice.”

“That’s why I’m going broke now,” Marcus Jenkins said without looking up from the documents. He pointed at a spot on one of the pages. “This account needs to be closed. It should’ve been closed years ago, but it should be closed now.”

Deion Jenkins waved a dismissive hand at his father. “It’s open for a reason.” He looked up at Caesar and shook his head. “Heard you went and got yourself suspended for Friday.”

“Yeah, on some bullshit, though. I didn’t do anything. Coach Hill just doesn’t know how to be a winner and it’s eating him up.” Caesar leaned to his right and picked up a small puzzle lock toy, likely another whim purchase by his mother.

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard today. I already know what happened. Thomas told me when I saw him in Cristiano’s. I told you a couple weeks ago to stop thinking with your fucking dick and yet here we fucking are.”

“I don’t think that’s how we gave you the birds and the bees talk, son,” Cassia said with a practiced laugh.

“I’m not sure he remembered it however you told it to him,” Candice added. She looked at her husband who scowled at her and she shrugged in response before sipping from the glass in her hand.

Deion shook his head as he stood up and walked over to Caesar. “You know that recruiters are started to pop red flags on you, right?”

“What difference does it make? I’m already move in ready at Oklahoma State. Who cares what recruiters anywhere else think?”

He cuffed Caesar on the back of his head. “Because it’s going to affect your draft stock, dumbass. GMs love a flashy player until it comes time to draft a flashy guy and then they start saying that he has character problems because he didn’t answer the question about stealing panties, right.”

“Sorry, damn,” Caesar said, rubbing where his father had hit him.

Deion cuffed Caesar again. Caesar moved his hand away, rubbing the back of it to quell the stinging before going back to rubbing his head.

“Stop it!” Candice shouted. “He said he was sorry.”

Deion shook his head and went back to his paperwork. “If he was sorry, he wouldn’t do it. You’re going to learn one day, son, or you’re going to be the failure of the family. And ain’t no son of mine going to be the one to fuck around and end up selling car insurance.”

“Go easy on the kid,” Marcus said.

“Just trying to make sure he doesn’t start specializing in failure, pops. S’all I’m doing.”
Last edited by Caesar on 31 Oct 2019, 20:32, edited 1 time in total.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 29 Oct 2019, 21:49

Bigger fan of the all Devin update than the all Caesar update, but I think that speaks on how you build your characters. Good shit.
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