a hundred different starters // accepting
“SPEAKING OF…..”
Consequences. Such a FOUL WORD with foul meaning. A word so grotesque, Dean never really BELIEVED in it unless he was tearing someone apart LIMB FROM LIMB. Other than that…it was absent from his mind. However, with what happened at SURVIVOR SERIES…
“Don’t be surprised if PRINCESS MORBUCKS counters your ass with a dish of consequence. Y’really ain’t supposed’ta give me a HAND ‘nd get her goons off me…but then again, y’never really DID think with your HEAD when we were smashin’ people through tables along with the BIG MAN.” Keeping things on the down low about their newly rebirthed connection was SACRED – now, with it nearly out in the open, WHO KNEW what was in store for them? What STEPHANIE would do on the RED BRAND? “Don’t go riskin’ shit that’s gonna bite your furry ass.”
a hundred different starters // accepting
“….Escape WHAT?” Jaw dropped slightly, a land of confusion RIDDLED behind waves of beryl. COULD be a sarcastic mechanism. COULD be genuine misunderstanding. COULD be a mixture of both with such personas coming to clash. “If you mean a STRAIGHT JACKET, ‘been there and DONE THAT. You’re like one of them higher ups that speaks in MORSE CODE ‘nd leave people outta the loop, KIRBY.”
a hundred different starters // accepting
MUNCH. MUNCH.
“…What? A guy can’t EAT NOW? I’m a walkin’ disgrace cause I’m eatin’ a SANDWICH from catering?” A smirk played ‘pon twin flesh through the mess of FOOD clogged in his mouth. Tone was dropped a degree lower than usual, the itching need to just get underneath the redneck’s skin was ENTICING.
“Listen, if y’wanted a PIECE of this sandwich, all y’had to do was ASK. I’un mind sharin’, jus’ like I don’t mind you sneakin’ me to the nearest STORAGE CLOSET and demandin’ me to drop m’pants. Jus’ ask NICELY, Mr. Soccer Mom.”
a hundred different starters // accepting
“Have y’ever drank a WHOLE BOTTLE upside down while holding a TEN POUND WEIGHT? ‘might be able to get some recognition in the GUINEA BOOK OF WORLD RECORDS, ‘pecially to top off your goal of SWITCHIN’ HAIRCUTS every damn weak. ‘spend more time at a BARBER SHOP and with the MAKE-UP DEPARTMENT than most prostitutes I know.”
a hundred different starters // accepting
That question it was almost like a LOADED GUN. Commitment hadn’t ALWAYS been an issue for Ambrose, certain aspects of relationships birthing a feeling of SENTIMENT and EMOTION. Those days were long gone however and the only thing that kept him erect was his career. But…GENERALLY SPEAKING…
“Soulmates? Not like WRESTLING SOULMATES but SOULMATES?” Skirting around the question. Loophole after loophole. Things like this always made him feel…QUEEZY. “'can’t say NO, but I can’t say YES either, yanno? ‘s like asking me if I believe in THE CHUPACABRA. I do but I DON’T. ‘double sided kinda deal. Jus’ one of them things y’gotta FEEL TO BELIEVE.”
a hundred different starters // accepting
“Wha’, cause my dashin’ good LOOKS are a real sight for SORE EYES?” A hint of a tease. A brush of wet muscle along plump flesh. Expression was almost stoic for a brief second, breaking into the barest hint of a GENUINE smile, one that could only be elicited by the Canadian. “Maaaaaaybe I’m a magician just like YOU.”