War of the Roses: Redux Edition

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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 01 Sep 2019, 21:02

Better Learn to Duck

“I thought it would be easier to find a prom date with more guys here, but I’m still stuck with the same old fuck boys asking me out,” Tiffany said.

“Ugh. I know. Janelle told me that Britton said those guys Bentley and Anthony don’t have dates. Maybe he could hook us up,” Erin said.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “If I’m going to go to prom with one of Britton’s friends, it’s not going to be those two. They’re always high.”

“True, but we can’t be lucky enough to already have a man like Janelle and Scarlett over here. Beggars can’t be choosers, right Scar?”

Scarlett nodded absently, mostly ignoring their conversation. Devin hadn’t actually asked her to prom yet and she assumed that they wouldn’t be going as he wasn’t the type to turn up to school dances without an immense amount of prodding that she just couldn’t be bothered to muster for the first of three Terrebonne proms.

The three of them made their way to the school’s parking lot, slowly following along the mash of students shuffling along the sidewalk near the football stadium. Long queues of cars and buses lined the streets to pick up those unfortunate enough to not have a car.

“Scarlett, you alright?” Erin asked.

“Yeah, I’m just ti—”

A fist connecting with her face and pain springing from her nose stopped her sentence short. She stumbled back, her hands dropping her books and instinctively going to her nose just in time to catch the first few drops of blood.

Through teary eyes, she saw the blonde Caesar was always with standing in front of her. “What the fuck? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You are, bitch,” she said, dropping her backpack.

Confused, Scarlett opened her mouth to speak again, but the blonde lunged forward and grabbed a fist full of her hair with one hand and began wildly swinging at her face with the other.

Scarlett used her hands to shield her face as she was jerked around by her hair. She could hear Tiffany and Erin shouting between the insults from the girl assaulting her.

It was over as soon as it began. Although it felt like it an eternity to Scarlett. She remained bent over, afraid to look up knowing there would be a crowd of onlookers watching a fight.

“Stop thrashing around!” the school’s resource officer shouted. He shook his can of mace. “I mace girls too.”

Scarlett peaked up. The girl wore a smug grin despite the police officer handcuffing her, a “My daddy is an insert prominent last name here” grin.

She spat on the pavement. “You aren’t even fucking pretty. Stay away from Caesar, bitch.”

“That’s enough of that! It’s a trip to Ashland for you,” the SRO said as he shoved her back toward the school.

Tiffany and Erin rushed to Scarlett’s side.

“Oh my God. What a crazy bitch! Are you alright?” Tiffany asked, frantic.

“What was that all about? She kept saying shit about Caesar. Since when did you hang out with Caesar?” Erin asked before she could answer Tiffany’s question.

Scarlett just shook her head, using her hand to try to staunch the blood pouring from her nose. She picked up her books as best she could and pushed through the crowd that’d formed, ignoring the jokes about her getting her ass whooped and needing to learn to duck.

-*****-
Devin knocked on Scarlett’s bedroom door. He waited a moment for her to answer, but when none came, he gently opened the door and poked his head in. All the lights were off, but he caught her turning away from the door to face the opposite wall.

He stepped in and shut the door behind him. He slowly walked to the side of her bed and knelt next to it.

“Your mom said that you’ve been in here since you got home,” he said in a hushed tone. “Do you want me to go get you some food or something?”

She sniffed back tears and shook her head. Her hand was strategically placed on one side of her face, attempting to hide the beginnings of a black eye.

“What do you want me to do then?” he asked.

“Build a time machine so I could go back to this morning before I was the laughing stock of the school,” she whispered.

“You know by tomorrow morning that someone else will get in a fight and everyone will be talking about that. We do go to Terrebonne, after all.”

“I don’t care. I’ve never been so embarrassed. You weren’t there.”

Devin hung his head in guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all so stupid.”

“Tiffany told me why that girl hit you.”

She laughed, but it was humorless. “Oh, right. I forgot that everyone is going to think I had sex with Caesar Jenkins because of this, too. I guess this is where you tell me that you’re breaking up with me to put a bow on this horrible day?”

“No. I know you wouldn’t do that. I trust you.” He paused. “But you didn’t tell me that you’d been hanging around with him for a few weeks.”

“He was helping me with history. He’s got the highest grade in the damn class.”

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?”

“I know you don’t like him. And clearly, people think that if you are around him then you’re spreading your legs for him. It’s just unfair. I get help from some guy who happens to be a man whore and the whole world blows up. What’s going to happen to his reputation? Nothing.”

Devin reached for the hand that she was laying on and pulled it away from her face. He cringed at the bruises but threading his fingers through hers. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all high school bullshit. Can you say you survived the Terrebonne Jungle if you’ve never been in a fight?”

“I didn’t even hit her. How pathetic.” She scoffed.

“Next time, you have to swing back,” he said, laughing softly. He stood up. “I’m going to go get you some ice for your eye.”

She held onto his hand. “I love you, Devin.”

“I love you, too.”

“Can you stay tonight?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be right back.”

She smiled and let him go. He walked out into the hall and stopped for a moment after closing the door. He took a few deep breaths to calm to the anger inside him from hearing that Scarlett had been hanging around Caesar. He trusted her fully, but that didn’t make him feel much better.

Sighing, he headed for the kitchen to find some ice.

-*****-
Caesar leaned against Emma’s car, his arms folded across his chest. She’d texted him earlier and asked if he was coming over. Now, she was waiting for her parents to go to sleep before sneaking him in as she’d done many times before.

After a few more minutes passed, the light in her parents’ bedroom clicked off. She poked her head out of the door soon after and beckoning for him to come in. He shook his head and remained standing against her car.

“What the fuck are you doing? Come on,” she said, her voice raspy.

“Come out here.”

She looked over her shoulder and stepped outside, walking over to him. In her hand, she held a water bottle. Opening it, she brought it up to her lips.

Caesar smacked it out of her hand, sending the water spilling over her.

Her mouth hung open in shock. She quickly composed herself, though. “What the fuck is your problem? That was completely unnecessary.”

“I heard about your little tussle this afternoon. Didn’t I tell you not to do that jealousy shit?”

“Maybe you should be fucking ugly girls.”

He shook his head. “Let’s start with the facts. I didn’t fuck Scarlett, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your fucking business.”

“Yes, it would be my business! We’re together!”

“Do you think I’ve stopped fucking other chicks because of that? Clearly not or we wouldn’t be standing here right now,” he said. “But it doesn’t matter because we’re done. You’re not going to be going around dragging my name through the mud because you can’t keep your fucking emotions in check.”

“That’s bullshit!” she shouted, starting to hit him in the chest. “What I did wasn—”

He grabbed her by the hair and turned her so she was facing away from him. She yelped in pain and clawed at his hand. He wrapped his other arm around her so she couldn’t scratch him but kept his hold on her hair.

“Not as fun being on the other end of this is it?” he asked. “It must suck not being able to defend yourself against someone.”

“Let me fucking go!” She struggled against his hold, but it was no use.

“I thought you wanted to act like a ghetto queen. You’re going around fighting and shit behind stupid shit. So if you’re going to be ghetto, this is where I should bounce your head off the pavement, right? That’s how it happens on Stovall and Prince Collins, I’m sure. You make your man mad. Your man beats the shit out of you.”

She whimpered. “Caesar, please stop. I’m sorry.”

Caesar let go of her and shoved her away from him. “I’m glad you’re embracing being at Terrebonne. You just need to get knocked up but some motherfucker selling drugs now. Good luck with that. Stay the fuck away from me.”

“No, please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that,” she said, trying to stop him from leaving.

He brushed her off and started walking down the street to where he’d parked. As he did, he took his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Ashley asking her if she was up.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 01 Sep 2019, 21:29

Damn, Caesar really about to catch a charge in the future, huh.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 01 Sep 2019, 21:33

Captain Canada wrote:
01 Sep 2019, 21:29
Damn, Caesar really about to catch a charge in the future, huh.
No faith in that man to change :smh:
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 02 Sep 2019, 11:57

Making the List

“Fullback? I’m not a fucking fullback. What was this motherfucker watching all spring?” Britton asked the others as they scanned the first depth chart that had been posted following the conclusion of spring camp. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“And say what exactly? ‘Hey, coach. I don’t know why you put me at fullback, but I respectfully ask that you kiss my fucking ass and fix it?’” Ron asked. “Don’t go putting your foot in your mouth and end up not playing at all your senior year.”

Caesar laughed, moving to the front of the queue to take a look for himself. He found himself listed as the first wideout – as expected. “Look on the bright side, Britton. Everyone thought the stereotype of the crazy white boy at fullback died like 70 years ago. Now, you can bring it back. Just play through a few games with a concussion and show them how tough you are.”

“Fuck y’all. I’m better than Santiago and other motherfucker,” Britton said, defending himself.

“Shawntoine, Bart, whatever they call him, yes. I hate to say it, but you’re not better than Hasan,” Bentley said.

Britton shoved away from the depth chart, throwing a middle finger over his shoulder as he walked away. “You motherfuckers are high if you really think that.”

“Was that supposed to be an insult or just a statement of truth?” Anthony asked, laughing.

Of the five of them, Britton was the only one who hadn’t kept his starting position through the transition from Vandebilt. Losing your spot and getting shunted to another position would’ve likely been enough to drive him to quit if he didn’t have a few scholarship offers still on the table.

-*****-
“I’m on here twice.”

Bart clicked his tongue at Trigga’s statement. “We need to get this nigga some books so he can finally learn how to read. Why would you be on the depth chart twice? The fuck you doing? Playing kicker when you ain’t on the field at quarterback?”

“I can read just fine motherfucker. I’m on here twice.” He pointed to the QB2 slot where his name was and the FS2 spot which also had his name. “White boy comes in here and they make the nigga go play safety.”

Hasan glanced up at the depth chart. “At least, you’re the first backup at two positions when they got a gang of motherfuckers on this team. They could’ve put your ass on JV.”

“Fuck that. I would’ve quit.”

“Devin, you’re starting at corner, brudda. So, nothing new for you,” Bart said.

Devin shrugged. “It’s kinda hard to not keep your spot when you’re basically competing against the same person. That Skylar dude isn’t all that good. Just runs around a lot.”

“Talk that shit!” Hasan laughed. He pointed back to the depth chart. “Still too many of them Vandy boys on here. We gonna have to put in work over the summer to get some of them out of there.”

“I know some goons that could deal with ‘em,” Bart said. “Show up at they mama house.”

“It’s not even remotely that serious,” Trigga said.

“Are we going to stand here all day or go to lunch? Y’all know how wild the cafeteria gets on spicy chicken Wednesday,” Devin said.

The other three nodded in agreement.

-*****-
Caesar walked into a Subway and scanned the restaurant. Near the rear of it, Scarlett was busy cleaning a table, but judging from the distinct lack of customers, she was doing it for the sake of doing it. She looked up as he approached her and sighed.

“What do you want, Caesar? Can’t you see that I’m working?”

He sat down at the table that she was cleaning. “I just wanted to apologize for all that shit a few weeks ago. You don’t have to worry about it though. Emma just needed to be straightened out. It was all a misunderstanding anyway.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t worrying about your girlfriend anymore. I got what I needed, and we don’t need to talk anymore. You can leave now.”

“Hold on. Hold on. I just want to know what you got on the final so I can put you down as a reference the next time that I decide I want to tutor someone. You never know when I’ll need a little side money to make ends meet.”

“You didn’t charge me, and you’ll never need ‘side’ money.”

“Semantics. What’d you get? I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

“Will that get you to leave?”

Caesar nodded, but leaned back and smiled. “You’re the one dragging it out though.”

“I got a A-. Happy? Good. Now, you can leave.” To drive her point home, she started cleaning the table again.

He stood up before reaching for her hand and stopping her from cleaning. “You know I could teach you how to kick a bitch’s ass, too. But I make no promises that you won’t find you like putting your hands on me.”

“That’s disgusting,” she said, pulling her hand away. “Does everything have to be about sex? You don’t have to wear the horny teenager stereotype like a badge of honor. There are more things people can do together than that.”

“From what I heard, King sleeps at your house and shit. You’re telling me y’all don’t ever fuck? Like honestly?” Caesar asked. When she didn’t answer, it finally clicked. “You’re a virgin?”

“Not that it’s any of your damn business, but yes. I’m saving myself for marriage. Some of us like tradition.”

“Hey, I’m just as much a good Catholic as you are,” he said before starting to laugh. “Wait, King’s a virgin, too?”

“That’s not any of your business either.”

Caesar grabbed his side as he laughed harder. “That’s rich. He’s got to be the only guy at Terrebonne who’s never been in some pussy. He’s a stronger willed man than me. I’ll give the little shit that.”

“Get out, Caesar, before I call the cops and say that you’re trying to steal.”

He raised his hands up, palms out. “I’m going. I’m going. But I do hope that we can be friends even though your boyfriend is a worthless piece of shit.”

“Out.”

“Alright, alright. See ya around.”

As Caesar walked out of the restaurant, he found that he had a bit more interest in Scarlett Babineaux that he had before.

-*****-
Devin walked into their living room and was surprised to find his grandfather sitting there. He looked around for his parents, but they were likely still at work.

“Don’t like around like I’m a damn burglar or something,” the old man snapped. “Come on and sit down here.”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I’ve seen you more in the last couple months than I feel like I have in years. You aren’t dying or something, are you?” Despite his questioning, Devin did as he was told and walked around the couch to sit down across from his grandfather.

“No, you little dipshit. Not anymore than any old man is dying anyway. I heard from some of my contacts that you’ve been talking to some pretty big schools over the last couple weeks. You ain’t give any of them a verbal yet, have you?”

Devin shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve even been given an offer to give a verbal commitment to. They just tell me that they’ll be in touch or to keep their number around and to give them a call. Doesn’t sound like an offer to me.”

“Good. You need to play them against one another and see what they give you.”

“What they give me?”

“Yes, what they give you. The NCAA isn’t investigating schools like Boise State because they haven’t gotten rid of that ugly blue field. These schools are going to give you shit for your name on a letter of intent. Don’t let them get you to give a commitment before you find out what someone else is offering.”

“I’m not trying to get involved in all that. I just want to play football and go to a school that’s going to set me up for when that’s all said and done.”

The elder Devin King smacked his hand on the end table. “Damn it, boy. You’re thinking like your pa. You need to pick the school that’s going to give you what you need now and what school is going to get you to the NFL. What good a degree gonna do you when you can get to the pros and make millions on your rookie contract? School ain’t going nowhere. A spot in the league is though.”

“I don’t even feel like I’m good enough to go pro, but why does all this matter to you all of sudden?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, boy. Your parents don’t know nothing about this shit. I do. I was already right. Didn’t I tell you those Vandebilt boys would bring the scouts and the recruiters?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

“So, I’m gonna to tell you how this gonna go every step of the way and we’re gonna make the best decision for the family and getting you to the league. From now on, whenever someone contact you about recruiting, let me know so I can give you some advice. Alright?”

Devin paused for a moment before answering, which was a moment too long for his grandfather.

“Alright?” he repeated

“Yeah, yeah.” Devin nodded. “I’ll let you know when I hear from schools.”

“I knew you had some sense in you.”
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 02 Sep 2019, 19:35

This Might Be A Good Time for a Vacation

“Hurricane Ana is expected to see significant strengthening in the next few days before making landfall somewhere between Vermilion Bay and Bay St. Louis. Currently, a high hanging over Louisiana may keep the storm just off the coast as it passes the extreme southern portions of the state on its way to Mississippi. This could bring devastating storm surges to Terrebonne Bay, Bayou Lafourche and the mouth of the Mississippi River. Mandatory evacuations have already been put into effect for those outside of the Morganza-to-the-Gulf levee system in southern Terrebonne Parish and outside of the South Lafourche levee system in Lafourche Parish…”


Caesar shut his laptop and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He’d been left to fend for himself before the storm with both of his parents in Seattle. Deion Jenkins would always bring his wife along when he inked a deal for a guy with a fiancée or wife. Deion would help the player settle, Candice would allay the usual fears of new WAGs.

But now Caesar had to decide if he was going to leave or ride the storm out.

He tapped out a text to Ron to ask if his family had plans. The response was almost immediate: “Nope. Out of town. Galveston?”



“The fuck did you put water in here for? We don’t need that shit and it’s taking up room for beer,” Caesar asked Ron as they navigated the mad house that was the nearest grocery store. “Better yet, why didn’t we do this shit in Galveston?”

“Do you know somewhere outside of Houma or Thibodaux that doesn’t ask too many questions about our fake IDs? I don’t.” As he spoke, Ron shoved between two men on the beer aisle and snatched up a case for himself to drop in the cart. “It’s also like a fucking zoo in here. They’ll be more concerned about getting these people out than who’s buying what.”

“That doesn’t answer why you are getting water.”

“Because from time to time I like to drink something that isn’t alcoholic, and I don’t trust the fuckers in Texas not to raise the prices because of evacuations.”

Caesar stopped walking, earning shouts from the people behind him. “You’re worried about the price of something?”

“Just because we’re rich doesn’t mean we can’t be frugal,” Ron said. “Did you ask Britton, Bentley, Anthony and all if they’re coming along?”

“Bentley’s going to Alexandria and Anthony said some shit about Baton Rouge. Britton’s down though. He said to pick him up on the way out.”

Ron nodded as he shoved a few IPAs into the empty spaces in the cart. “Good, we’re going to need his SUV. There’s no way that all three of us, this shit and luggage is going to fit in either of our cars.”

“More reason to buy this shit in Galveston.”

They passed Devin and Hasan stacking empty pallets under empty boxes of water. Ron shared nods with both of them, but Caesar walked past without acknowledging them.

-*****-
Devin pressed down on the release for the jack and dropped the stack of pallets in the warehouse. He wiped sweat from his forehead and took a brief break before he pulled the jack free and shoved it into a full pallet of cases of water. Hasan pushed the pallet from the other side to help him get it rolling.

A constant line of stockers brought goods out of the warehouse only for the pallets to be emptied within minutes.

Being tasked with moving the water, Devin had already been elbowed a few times and shoved out of the way as frantic people stocked up to prepare to ride out the coming hurricane at home. It took all his strength to avoid having the jack pushed onto him on at least two occasions.

Hasan hacked at the saran wrap with a box cutter, not caring if he punctured bottles of water underneath. It didn’t seem that the customers cared too much either as once it was pulled free, they descended like vultures on a dead nutria.

Dropping the pallet, Devin forced his way out of the crowd of people and back into the warehouse. Ralph, using an electric-powered jack, dropped another pallet of water for him to take.

“That’s the last one until we get the truck from Village East. It’ll be about 40 minutes,” he said as he walked back deeper into the warehouse.

Devin and Hasan repeated the process for the next pallet.

“So, explain this shit to me again because when Giroir said it the shit ain’t make no sense,” Hasan said. “Why are they movin’ everything from Village East to here? Wouldn’t it just be easier to let people buy all that shit?”

Devin shrugged. “I guess they think it’s going to flood down there so they’re moving shit, so they don’t have to hope people buy everything.”

“Still don’t make sense.”

“Something something that’s why they’re paid the big bucks something something.”

“Oh, you’re Mr. Funny Nigga now.”

Devin laughed for a moment before he once again had to dodge soccer moms trying to take his head off to get to the water.

-*****-
“Bro, there are like eighty people in this fucking line,” Caesar said pointing to the people in front of them.

“There are like eighty people in every fucking line,” Ron said, thumbing through a puzzle book that he’d pulled off a nearby rack. He looked up and counted the shoppers in front of them. “And it’s four people and they don’t even have full carts. You don’t have anywhere to go.”

Leaning down over the cart, Caesar pulled his phone from his pocket and decided to take a look at the recruiting rankings now that they’d been updated for the coming season. He spared himself a smile to see that he was the top recruit overall for his class.

He’d met a few of the other recruits in the top 20 through camps he’d attended in the last few years, but his eyes were drawn to one he didn’t know. A safety out of the Dallas-area who was the 17th ranked recruit, Erik Jenkins. The site had him 75% likely for LSU and 25% for Oklahoma.

Given his dad’s contacts in north Texas and Oklahoma, he figured he’d know who that was if he was good enough, but Caesar had never heard of him. Caesar shrugged. It was unlikely he’d face off against this guy.

“Caesar,” Ron called, pointing at the register that was now waiting for them.

Caesar pushed the cart forward and the two of them unloaded their stuff onto the conveyor belt.

“Y’all got ID?” the cashier asked.

Ron pulled his fake from his pocket and handed it to her.

“You, too,” she said to Caesar.

Caesar paused as typically only one of them was asked for ID. He looked up and his mood soured when he recognized the cashier.

“Don’t be a fucking cunt, Gina. Just scan the shit,” he said.

Gina leaned forward so she could lower her voice. “Fuck you, Caesar. I’m not losing my job for anyone especially you. You can drop the fucking tough guy act, too. I know you better than that.”

Caesar reached into his pocket for his wallet. Instead of taking out his fake ID, he pulled all the cash he had out of it and folded it before putting it on the register. “Since you need money so much you have to be a bitch. Now, scan the shit.”

“Can we move this along before all three of us end up in jail behind this transaction?” Ron asked, noticing that the other customers were beginning to take notice of them.

Gina took a moment, seemingly debating her decision. In the end, she snatched up the money and shoved it into her apron.

“Next time, both of you can eat a bag of dicks and get the fuck out.”

“You would know about eating dicks,” Caesar snapped back.

“Not yours though, right?”

Ron rubbed his eyes and shook his head. “Should’ve gone to fucking Wal-Mart.”

-*****-
“Wrap all those pallets and stack them to the ceiling. We’ll be getting the shit from Golden Meadow tomorrow and need to make room.”

Another stocker, Will, looked up at the pallets that had already been stacked one on top of another. “C’mon, Ralph. We’ll have to get on top this shit with a jack to move them all the way to the back. I’m not trying to die tonight.”

“Take the ones in the front down and put them four high from the back, dumbass. Make sure you don’t put the soft shit on the bottom and hurry the fuck up. I’m not trying to be here all night,” the manager said before turning and leaving them to it.

“Which cashier y’all think he goin’ fuck on?” Hasan asked.

“You’re still on that shit?” Devin asked.

“What you don’t think he fucks all the cashiers? I caught him in the break room with Trisha a couple weeks ago,” Will said.

Michael, another stocker, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and I caught that nasty motherfucker in his car with Chelsea on night. It’s not who he’s fucking. It’s how many of them he’s fucking.”

“He’s gonna catch at least 20 charges if it ever got out that he’s fuckin’ all these juvies,” Hasan laughed as he grabbed the electric jack to take the stacked pallets down.

“Well, you know, he’s going by that ‘grass on the field’ logic,” Michael said.

Will laughed. “Now, y’all know he convinces them to shave it, so they look younger. He has a fucking seminary degree. Man definitely a pedo.”

“You right,” Hasan agreed.

Devin shook his head and walked out of the way so that Hasan could start working on the pallets. “Y’all going to get all of us fired. His ass might be standing in the meat department listening to all this shit right now.”

“I’m just going to trade his secret and an in with a few of them to get my dick wet for my job.” Michael shrugged, drawing laughter from Will and Hasan.

“My nigga.” Hasan dapped up Michael. “Blackmail by a black male. I’d give his ass a list of demands. He can’t say no. It’s that or jail.”

“You think about this shit way too much,” Devin said.

“We’re bored high school students, man,” Will said. “What else we’re going to think about while we’re at work? You know you check out the cashiers just like the rest of us.”

Hasan laughed as he raised a pallet in the air. “You probably should start checkin’ out the cashiers, Devin. Ya girl was kickin’ it with Caesar’s ho ass. You know that nigga the type to walk around half naked like he’s old school Cristiano Ronaldo. It’s only fair.”

“Who the fuck is Cristiano Ronaldo?” Devin asked. He held his hand up. “Actually, I don’t even care. Let’s just get this shit done.”
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 02 Sep 2019, 20:43

Nice double-header, Gina going toe-to-toe with Caesar was a nice touch.

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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Soapy » 04 Sep 2019, 11:02

Devin somehow less like-able than Caesar is a feat in of itself.

baby back bitch.
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 08 Sep 2019, 03:13

Hurricane Fling

Some 300 miles away, storms clouds would be beginning to roll off the Gulf onto the lower reaches of Louisiana thanks to the outer rain bands from Hurricane Ana. Those who’d decided to leave would be heading toward their evacuation points, spending hours on the road for trips that took a fourth of that time. Those who decided to stay would be pulling in their last rations for the duration of the storm.

Some 300 miles away, the sky is Galveston was a bright blue and not a single cloud was in sight.

Caesar, Ron and Britton sat on the porch of one of the Jenkins’ family’s four beach houses – spread out around the country for the very purpose of leaving Houma behind in the case of an emergency or just a weekend getaway.

“I don’t see any reason why someone, namely you, wouldn’t take advantage of the fact that their girlfriend is hundreds of miles away and about to be with electricity and most likely her cell when it croaks,” Caesar said, a beer in his hand and his feet propped up on the railing surrounding the deck.

“Ron, talk some sense into him, man. You don’t have to play Russian Roulette with a baby everytime you walk out of the house,” Britton said.

Ron laughed, coughing as beer went down the wrong pipe. He took another swig to regain his composure. “Caesar isn’t playing Russian Roulette with any babies, B. He forgets his Catholic upbringings after the part that’s against condoms.”

“In what book, chapter and verse does it say that you can’t give a bitch plan B for breakfast?” Caesar asked.

“I don’t think there are any books in the Bible that says the word ‘bitches’ so you got me there,” Ron said. “But you can’t deny it says something against abortion.”

Britton spit beer out of his mouth. “You’ve taken a chick to get an abortion?!”

“No, Ron’s being a jackass. All the bodies I’ve gotten and I only had one pregnancy scare. Turns out she screwed her cycle fucking around with her birth control.” Caesar reached into a bag of chips on a table between them and poured a handful onto his lap to eat. “My point is that it’d be just like a summer fling? A hurricane fling if you will.”

“A fucking hurricane fling? If you make any puns about blowing, wind, spinning, water, moisture, or anything like that, I’m going to fucking kick you in the dick,” Ron said.

“Instead of judging my labels, how about you help me out here?”

Britton shook his head as he knocked back the remainder of the beer he was drinking. “There’s nothing to help with. I’m happy with Janelle. I don’t see the point of sticking my dick anywhere else.”

As if by divine intervention a group of four girls turned the corner of the street and were heading past where the three of them were sitting.

Caesar looked at them then at Ron and raised an eyebrow to which Ron shrugged. Britton palmed his face before leaning forward to grab another beer for himself.

Grabbing four bottles from one of the coolers, Ron and Caesar walked down to the street just as the group was passing. One of the girls, a thin redhead, snatched a bottle from Ron as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Why thank you. Nice of you to realize that we’re parched,” she said, giving Ron a wink as she opened the bottle.

“What can I say? I know what women want,” Ron said. He gave the other beer to a just-a-smidge-under-being-fat blonde. She took it somewhat reluctantly. “I’m Ron. This here is my brother, Caesar. I took all the good looks though.”

“Hardy har har,” Caesar said sarcastically, relinquishing one of the two bottles he was holding to another blonde – bleach blonde. The fourth girl hung back. Caesar pointed to Britton. “The rude fella up there is Britton.” Britton held up his beer in greeting.

“You guys look nothing alike,” the chubby blonde said to Caesar.

“Yeah, we’re half-brothers. Ron’s mom was a Queen of Spades and my dad, her bull, accidentally knocked her up and here we are.”

Ron feigned sadness, kicking the sand from the sidewalk pitifully. “Dad always was a little soft.”

“A what? Queen of Spades?”

“They’re fucking with you, Andrea,” the redhead said, laughing. “I’m Dawn.” She pointed to the other blonde. “That’s Val. Don’t mind our other friend back there. She’s a little heartbroken and doesn’t want to talk.”

“You ladies looking for some fun?” Ron asked.

Instead of waiting for their response, Caesar found himself drawn to the last of them. She was the most attractive of the group by far.

He held out the beer in offering. “Alcohol makes me feel better when my heart’s broken.”

She glanced at him then at the beer before rolling her eyes and starting to walk toward the water. Caesar felt compelled to follow her.

“You know, people typically try to have a good time when they’re on a vacation,” he said.

She ignored him and kept walking.

“I’m not typically a long walk on the beach in silence guy, but I think we could come to a compromise if you would get rid of the silence bit.”

Still, she ignored him. Not even sparing so much as a glance in his direction.

“I get it. You’re a siren, luring me to a watery grave, right? You just have legs and don’t sing a song before you drag sailors and men to their deaths.”

Once more, she ignored him.

Caesar sighed, opening the beer and beginning to drink it himself. “Maybe y’all are illegal organ dealers and my friends and I are going to end up in tubs of ice with our kidneys and shit cut out. I wouldn’t want to talk with that on my mind either.”

She continued to ignore him.

“Can you at least tell me your name before you slice out my spleen?” Caesar didn’t wait for an answer. “Of course, you’re not going to answer that. You’re being unnecessarily difficult, you know?”

She finally stopped walking at the end of where the Gulf was breaking on the beach.

“I don’t know the myth of sirens all that well. Would it be good to pra--”

“Kaley. My name is Kaley. Now, could you please leave me the everloving fuck alone?”

Caesar smiled. “Sure, bu--”

She turned toward him. “Fuck. Off.”

Her tone told Caesar not to push her any further and he only watched as she turned in the other direction, walking along the Gulf.

-*****-
“Turn here,” Hasan said, pointing to his right.

Devin swung his car from one lonely bayou road to another. He wasn’t sure whether he was glad for the darkness of night or the longing for daylight. With the combination of the parish shutting its floodgates and the off and on downpours all day, the bayou would be encroaching on the road and likely already on it in some places.

He didn’t exactly feel like a late-night swim.

As he drove down the street, the headlights illuminated sandbag barriers that had been constructed around homes. One ambitious, or overly cautious, homeowner had seemingly built a five-foot levee in his yard.

“It’s the one on the end on the left,” Hasan instructed, then he laughed. “The one that ain’t got no sandbags.”

“We could steal some from your neighbors,” Devin suggested as he pulled into the driveway. “I doubt they’d notice them missing.”

Devin paused as the two of them got out of the car. He heard water being blown by the strong gusts of wind coming from the south.

Hasan pulled his keys from his pocket. “That’s the canal or whatever down the road. The old white dude across the street told me that shit flooded 50 years ago. Had waves in niggas’ yards and everything.”

“You sure you don’t want to swipe some of their sandbags then? You probably just need to put them against the door.”

“Nah. Me and my brother ain’t got shit worth savin’. If it flood, it flood.” He opened the door. “Help me throw some shit in a bag so we can get the fuck before it start rainin’ again.”

Devin followed him into the house and quickly realized that Hasan’s comment about not having anything worth saving meant that there wasn’t much in the house. Little in the living room, nothing in the dining area, almost nothing in the kitchen.

He walked into a thin hall that had a room at either side. Hasan was in one of them throwing clothes into a duffel bag, the other was empty.

“Your brother isn’t evacuating?”

“Nah. Well, I guess you can see he did already. He in Canada or something for work.”

“Canada?” Devin asked, walking into Hasan’s room.

Hasan nodded. “He does that surveyin’ shit for pipelines. Said he’ll be up there for like three, four months.”

“It’s just the two of y’all.”

“Yeah. Pop’s a crackhead. Mom’s a crackhead. Sister’s a crackhead. We’re the only ones ain’t in jail or on the streets.”

“Damn.” Devin didn’t know what else to say.

Hasan laughed. “I’m only joking.”

“Ah, alright.” Devin

“We ain’t got no sister,” he said, zipping up the bag. “It was either this or go live in Connecticut with my grandma. I’m sure it’s a lot niggas love Connecticut, but I ain’t for the cold. That’s why this football shit gotta come together. Rakim make a nice bit of money but what I look like goin’ to Canada and fuckin’ with them maple syrup ass motherfuckers? Plus, I ain’t tryin’ to stay here. No offense.”

Devin waved off the last comment. “That’s not an insult to me. I don’t like living here either. I wonder everyday why my grandpa decided this is where he wanted to raise his family when he isn’t even from here.”

“White bitches. That’s why your ass gonna end up stuck here.” Hasan laughed, hiking the bag up on his shoulder.

“I don’t know what in the time you’ve known me gives you that impression.”

“Ain’t Scarlett white?”

Devin shrugged. “She’s also the only girl I’ve ever dated. You’re working with an extremely small sample size. That’s as good as a roll of the dice.”

“Whatever, nigga. You got a thing for white women. All y’all around here do. How many little mixed kids Bart done made? I’m guessing probably three. And that nigga ain’t nothin’ but 17. He’ll have a whole gang of ‘em by the time he graduate.”

“I think he only has one.”

“That he claim.” Hasan shut off the light in his room. “Let’s go before a levee break or something and we stuck down here.”

“What you can’t swim? If you’d date white women, they’d teach you.”

Hasan sarcastically laughed. “I can swim, motherfucker. That whole black people can’t swim shit died before we were even born.”

Laughing, Devin led the way out of the house as Hasan locked the door behind them. He stopped in the yard and pulled out his cell phone, reading a text under his breath.

“Hey, man,” he called to Devin. “Speaking of white women, Michael just texted me and said that Ralph is havin’ a hurricane party at his spot after we shut down tomorrow. We should roll through.”

Devin opened his car door but didn’t get into the car. “You’re not going to fuck Gina, Tristan or Krysta, man. Whether they are drunk or not.”

Hasan waved off the comment. “Ralph can’t fuck all three of ‘em at the same time. It’s a perfect opportunity.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Let me live, nigga,” Hasan said, shaking his head and getting in the car. “We goin’. I don’t care if I have to steal your car to make you come. You gotta get out and live a little.”

“You’re still not going to fuck them,” Devin said, getting into the car as well.
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Caesar
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Caesar » 09 Sep 2019, 22:15

Do Unto Others

Caesar groaned as he sat up, his head pounding. It took him a moment before he registered that he was on the floor and not in a bed. Rolling over to get to his feet, his hand pressed down on what felt like slick plastic. Lifting it, he saw it was a pair of used condoms. He grumbled to himself and brushed his hand on the wall before using that to steady himself.

He shuffled over to a pair of shorts and a shirt that looked like his and pulled them on, ignoring the smell of sweat, alcohol and bad decisions emanating from the room. He looked around on the floor and found his phone wedged between an end table and a dresser. Grabbing it, he headed out into the hall.

Ron handed him a glass of water when he stepped into the kitchen. He took it with the hand that he didn’t know where it’d been.

Turning on a stream of hot water, Caesar stuck his hand underneath it as he drank from the glass. He looked over his shoulder to see the three girls from last night sitting at the table plus their bitchy friend. Britton sat on the counter with his head buried in his phone.

“It was that good?” Caesar asked no one in particular.

“I wouldn’t mind another round,” Dawn, the redhead, said, turning around so she could look at Caesar.

“Or we could head out like I was just suggesting,” Kaley, the bitchy one, said.

Caesar tossed the glass into the sink, grabbed the dish soap and poured a generous amount on his hand. “Why are you even here? When did you get here and who let you in?”

“Britton did before we woke up,” Ron said. He held a sandwich in his hand, but only stared blankly at it as if he was still deciding whether to eat it – or if it even existed.

“She said she was going to call the cops,” Britton added.

“Kaley, what the fuck?” Andrea shouted.

The girl shrugged. “I felt that was a reasonable threat considering my friends had run off with three guys we’d known a grand total of 20 minutes. Who knows what they could’ve slipped into y’all drinks last night and done?”

“There were three of them and two of us. I’d say we were the ones taken advantage of,” Caesar said, drying his hands.

“Two?”

Britton raised his hand. “I don’t participate in their debauchery. Orgies ain’t my thing.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Val said. “You’re the one that just broke up with your boyfriend, not us.”

“That’s why she should’ve been the one getting some dick instead of us,” Dawn said.

Kaley pushed away from the table. “I’m leaving.”

“We all should,” Andrea suggested. “Or just get out of here for a bit. Let things cool down.”

“We could hit the beach,” Ron said. He nodded toward Britton. “I think you’d even be alright with that. Doesn’t involve cheating and what not.”

“Count me out,” Caesar said. “It feels like someone kicked me in the fucking head.”

“Someone did.”

Val looked down, embarrassment on her face. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Y’all know the beach goes all the way down back to our beach house, right?” Kaley asked.

“If you want to go back, go,” Dawn said. She stood up and headed for the door. Andrea and Val followed behind her.

Britton hopped down from the counter, shrugged and left as well.

“Don’t burn the house down,” Ron said to Caesar. Then, he left. The sandwich forgotten on the counter.

Caesar looked at Kaley. “What the fuck are you still doing here?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, but remained sitting. “I’ll stay here until my friends come back. I still don’t trust you.”

“You don’t even fucking know me, but I clearly don’t have to take pussy.” He scoffed, opening the refrigerator.

“Oh, I do know you, though. My cousin, Carla, told me to tell you to eat shit and die.”

Caesar leaned back so he could look around the refrigerator door. “You’re related to Carla Parfait from Houma?”

Kaley nodded. “We’re like sisters. She tells me everything.”

“Well, shit.”



Caesar poked at the tilapia sizzling in a skillet on the burner. He’d attempted to wait until Ron and Britton came back to find some grub, but they’d been gone for hours leading to him having to cook for himself. While he was actually a fairly decent cook, if he had to say so, he was grossly out of practice.

He and Kaley hadn’t spoken further since her little reveal. She’d left the table and had been sitting on the sill of one of the bay windows since.

Out of boredom, Caesar attempted to rank her in the pantheon of women he’d personally met in terms of attractiveness. His dick told him first, on account of him not having fucked her. His mind agreed, but for other reasons. Any other body parts be damned.

If only she wasn’t related to some chick he’d fucked over, he--

The beeping of the smoke alarm brought him out of his thoughts as black smoke billowed up from the skillet. He reached out to pull it from the burner, but only succeeded in burning his hand when he touched the pan. With a string of curses, he smacked the skillet sending burnt fish and oil onto the stove.

Almost instantly, a small flame poofed to life.

Kaley shoved him out of the way, turned off the burner and grabbed the salt, dousing the flame with it. She turned to him and shoved the cannister of salt into his chest. “Didn’t your friend tell you not to burn down the house?”

“I had it under control. Thanks,” Caesar said, snatching the salt from her and throwing it on the counter. “You can go the fuck away now.”

“Did your parents not send you to etiquette courses? This is where you say thank you, not go the fuck away.”

He laughed. “Oh, yes. Etiquette courses because I’m rich, right?” He bowed dramatically. “Thank you, your royal highness. I could have never saved my little village were it not for you quick fucking thinking, bitch.”

“You’re a fucking dick.”

“I am what I am. I accept it.” Caesar shrugged, shoving past her to grab napkins and a towel to start cleaning the stove. He cringed as he used his burned hand to scoop up the salt, only serving to make the pain worse.

Kaley watched him for a moment before grabbing at the towel. He moved his hands away from her.

“Get the fuck back. I got this,” he snapped.

“You’re just making more of a fucking mess and you’re going to fucking make your hand worse if you don’t put it under some water and bandage it up.”

Caesar waved her away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Go sit your ass do--”

She abruptly shoved him. When he turned toward her, the bit of anger that’d built up dissipated when she shoved him again. Then a third time. And a fourth.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

She shoved him again. “I know what I’m talking about!”

He backed up when she tried to shove him again. “It’s not that serious, man.”

Instead of saying anything, she grabbed his hand and pulled it toward the sink, turning on the water. Caesar let her. As she held his hand under the water, she used her other hand to rub her eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry for cursing at you and shit, but it’s not a reason to cry,” he said.

“I’m not fucking crying,” she snapped, letting his hand go. “Give me your shirt.”

“What?”

“Your shirt!”

He pulled it off and handed it to her. Biting the collar, she tore the shirt in half then into shreds. She grabbed his hand again and used the rags to make a makeshift bandage. Then she shoved the remains of the shirt, and his hand, back toward him.

“Never fucking doubt me,” she said, through clenched teeth, and she walked back to the bay window and sat on the sill once more.

Caesar watched her, confused on a number of levels. Sighing, he tossed the tattered shirt on the counter and went back to cleaning.

-*****-
“Man, I don’t know how to play this shit,” Devin said as Hasan pressed a ping pong ball into his hand.

The small house they were in was packed with employees from the grocery store that they worked at. Many of them were from the morning shifts so Devin didn’t know them, but they’d all greeted him just the same.

And no one made mention of the unusually high amount of high school students in a 20-something year old man’s house drinking and getting up to who knows what else.

“You hang out with all these white people and ain’t never played beer pong? What do you do with your life?” Hasan asked.

“I’ve never drank before,” Devin admitted.

Hasan laughed and slapped him on the back. “Well, it’s a first time for everythin’, ain’t it? Throw the ball into the fuckin’ cups. It’s easy.”

Will sipped from a red plastic cup in his hand. “This is going to be like taking candy from a baby. Two drinks and he’s going to be fucked up. I feel like we should let his ass get two or three tries to hit a cup just to make it fair.”

“Fuck that. I’m not trying to get drunk as fuck because you’re trying to be nice,” Michael said.

“My nigga gonna be a natural. He got that athlete blood. It don’t matter,” Hasan said. “Throw that shit, D.”

Devin shrugged and tossed the ball toward the cups on the other side of the table. It plopped perfectly into the center of the cup in the middle.

“HA! Told you niggas!” Hasan shouted.

Hasan’s celebrations were short lived as his toss was well wide of the table. Michael and Will both hit theirs.

Hasan held up both of the cups to Devin. “You gotta drink, bro.”

“Both of them?”

“Yeah, put some hair on your chest,” Will said, laughing.

“Go on, man. It ain’t shit but some Coors,” Michael said. “Piss water at it’s finest. So shit that Ralph probably stole it from the store.”

Devin apprehensively took one of the cups from Hasan and stared down at the yellow liquid. He glanced back up at Hasan who nodded and pushed up the bottom of the cup. He brought the cup to his lips and decided to drink it quickly. Tilting his head back, he knocked back the beer. He immediately began coughing.

“Popped his cherry!” Michael yelled. “You almost a man now, boy!”

Hasan handed him the other cup. “Here, get that in ya, too.”

Devin quelled his coughing fit before repeating the process. “That shit is fucking nasty.”

“Better get used to it. Y’all gonna be drinking a lot.” Will said, laughing.



Devin found his way to the porch, needing air and time to himself after a few too many rounds of beer pong with the guys. He sat down on a swinging bench away from the door and somewhat away from the sound of music and partying inside.

He laid his head back against the swing and closed his eyes, listening to the rain falling on the ground behind him. However, he only got a moment of rest before he heard someone walking up the steps onto the porch.

Gina sat down next to him. She looked at him and laughed. “First time drunk?”

He nodded.

“Well, that’s a milestone for you. Congratulations.” She gave him a congratulatory punch in the shoulder. “What other milestones you want to burn through before we all die in the hurricane tomorrow? I got some pills if you want to really party.”

“I think I’m good.” He had to draw the line somewhere.

“Ever fucked a chick in the ass? I can’t or won’t personally help you with that, but I know someone.”

Devin decided to change the subject in his drunken state and ask the question the stockers always discussed. “Are you fucking Ralph?”

She shrugged. “Yeah. Thought everyone knew that.”

“Isn’t he like 27?”

She shrugged again. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Are you fucking some dude like 10 years older than you?”

“Because I like to get fucked?” The words sounded more like a mixture between a question and a statement than either or. “It makes me feel beautiful. You want to take over for him so I’m not fucking someone ‘like 10 years older’ than me? You’re the only one who doesn’t chase behind me. Are you afraid or something?”

He opened his eyes and sat up. “No.”

She smiled then leaned over and kissed him, her hand falling to his waist. His mind told him to stop, but it was too slow to override his body.

He felt her unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Just as he felt her fingers slipping inside in his boxers, his phone buzzed against his thigh and the blood rushing back to the head on his shoulders kicked him into gear.

Grabbing her hand, he pushed away from her. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” He stood up and fixed his clothes.

She looked up at him, anger on her face for a moment before it disappeared for nonchalance. She shrugged and stood up, walking back into the house.

Devin pulled out his phone and saw a text from Scarlett asking if he was coming over after work. He sent back that he was on his way.



Hopping out of his car, Devin sent Scarlett a text that he was outside. He walked up to the house, feeling a little lighter than he normally did. Despite his initial reluctance, he felt like it was -- mostly -- a good decision to let Hasan drag him to the party.

Not even the bit of rain could dampen his mood.

Devin smiled when Scarlett opened the door. She leaned forward to hug him and give him a kiss but stopped short. Her eyebrows furrowed and she pulled back.

“What?” he asked.

“You smell like perfume.”

He grabbed his shirt and pulled it to his nose, sniffing at the fabric. “No, I don’t, but I mean, I have been at work all day.”

“Where have you been, Devin?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“At work. I’m literally still wearing the shirt.” He gestured to the logo on his chest.

“You don’t think I know how those girls are who work there? Everyone knows that they give out sex like it’s a grab bag. Is that where you were?”

“I wouldn’t cheat on you, Scarlett.”

“Then why do you smell like some other girl’s perfume?!” she shouted.

Devin looked around to see if any lights have flicked on in her house. “I know I’m not exactly sneaking in, but you don’t think you should maybe keep your voice down?”

“Is this because I was hanging out with Caesar? I apologized for that.”

“Scarlett, I didn’t do anything. I just came from work. That’s it.”

She nodded slowly. “I just know that it’s hard to keep waiting. I’m sure Hasan tells you all the time that you shouldn’t because no one else does that. I shouldn’t ask you to. You don’t have to. You know you don’t have to, right?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Devin asked, feeling confused and a bit of panic wash over him.

“No, no. I’m just saying that I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

“You do realize that I just drove here in a hurricane, right? If I didn’t want to be here, this would’ve been the prime time for me to change my mind. I love you. Calm down.”

Scarlett took a deep breath and nodded again. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just been a long week with this hurricane stuff.”

“Are you going to let me in now?”

“You have to get rid of that shirt. I don’t care why you smell like that, but I don’t want to smell another girl.”

“Now?”

She smiled and shrugged.

He sighed and took the shirt off.

“Thanks, babe,” she leaned up and kissed him before letting him follow her into the house.
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Captain Canada
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War of the Roses: Redux Edition

Post by Captain Canada » 09 Sep 2019, 23:06

Yo, Scarlett fucking sucks.
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