Categories > TV > WWE > So Much More Than Meets The Eye
One day I'm going to show all these tightasses that it's not smart to audibly heckle me when I'm within earshot.
Raven shot a veiled glare at the other patrons of the library. They stood in clumps, staring as he walked in, talking in whispers and hushed voices as he stalked past them.
"He's got to be a hobo..."
"No, he's a tweaker, I'd bet my life on it."
"Tweakers twitch, this guy is really mellow...I'd say pot at least."
It's heroin you morons, but you wouldn't know that. It pays to shoot up in your gums, kids.
He scrawled his name onto the signup sheet at the circulation desk, before sitting down in front of one of the unoccupied PC's.
Logging into his email account, he began to skim over the newest arrivals--most of them confirming shipments of his "goods", except for the last one, which was from a guy known only as Kaz. He was one of Raven's overseas affiliates, and rarely contacted him via the web.
"...Sex trafficking? Kaz, you naughty boy, I may have to retire the kendo stick for this one." he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as he continued to read the letter, his interests piqued.
"Appears to be very lucrative...very lucrative indeed..."
And it was--three times what he was currently making with the drug trade.
Raven's mouth twisted into a feral smile as he began to hurredly scribble down information. As soon as he was done, he cleared the history on the public computer, and left the facility.
Just outside, he found a payphone, and quickly made a call.
"Kidman? I need you and Sick Boy to meet me down at the docks, I think I may have found a solution to our business problem...Well, I want to consult Gypsy first, to see if we have the green light; if so, you and I may be making a trip to Russia."
-
Punk narrowed his eyes at the caged woman, as she laid down her hand.
"Straight, Ace high."
Nightingale smirked, glancing up at the tattooed man as he glared.
"Not cool."
"Go on, take off the shirt."
"This isn't right, I've never been beaten by a WOMAN at strip poker."
"First time for everything. Now take it off."
"And the sad part is, you're still fully clothed."
"Stop stalling."
"And why the shirt? Why can't I take off my shoes or something?"
"Because I said so, that's why."
"And here I was wondering why you'd pick Strip Poker of all games--"
"Look, do you want me to change my mind and make you take off your pants instead?"
"Women..." Punk muttered curses under his breath as he removed his shirt.
"Ooooh nice, pierced nipples AND a stomach tattoo!"
Punk smirked, doing a quick model like spin.
"I take it you approve?"
"Oh, me definitely likey. Ready for the next hand?"
"Well that depends, Nightingale, are you ready to lose your shirt?"
Nightingale shot her caretaker a grin.
"Dream on, Punk."
-
"Can I trust you, kid?"
Tripp looked up as Raven, Kidman and Sick Boy approached him.
"What?"
"It's not a hard question, Tripp. Can I trust you, yes or no?"
Tripp stammered as he managed to grind out an affirmative.
"Excellent, you're getting promoted. Kidman and I are going to be in and out of town for awhile, working out a new business venture, so Sick Boy needs a new wing man."
"Thank you."
"No thanks needed, just your word that you'll keep your mouth shut, especially around your pal from Chicago."
Tripp raised an eyebrow, but nodded his agreement.
"You're a good man, Tripp. Sick Boy, get him trained. Kidman, come with me, we have a Gypsy to consult and plane tickets to book, and packing to do."
Within seconds, Raven and Kidman had departed just as quickly as they'd appeared.
Sick Boy grabbed Tripp by the arm and lead him behind the cargo ship. Flipping open his switch blade, he quickly ripped through the tape on a cardboard box, extracting what appeared to be a statue of The virgin Mary.
"Do you know what this is?" Sick Boy asked, holding up the statue.
"I'm assuming it's a statue of the Virgin Mother." Tripp deadpanned.
"And you'd be making an ass of yourself." Sick Boy retorted, before smashing the statue.
Tripp was about to call out Sick Boy for the blatant act of blasphemy, when he saw the baggy roll out of the hollow statue.
"...Is that?"
"An ounce of cocaine. We sell that, crystal meth, opuim, and of course the standard marijuana. We import them from the ships here and from a cargo plane that comes in from Colombia every Saturday. This is why Raven wanted to know if he could trust you to keep your mouth shut. That means around your girlfriend, around Devine, Rave, Rock, Julio, and especially CM Punk. Are you sure you can handle the responsibility? If not, now is the time to back down and let someone else have the spot."
Tripp stared at his feet, pondering his options for a moment. Finally he looked up at Sick Boy and nodded.
"You have my word, I won't tell a soul."
Sick Boy smirked, clapping Tripp on the shoulder.
"Atta boy. Come on, we've got statues to inventory and junk to move. Time is money."
Raven shot a veiled glare at the other patrons of the library. They stood in clumps, staring as he walked in, talking in whispers and hushed voices as he stalked past them.
"He's got to be a hobo..."
"No, he's a tweaker, I'd bet my life on it."
"Tweakers twitch, this guy is really mellow...I'd say pot at least."
It's heroin you morons, but you wouldn't know that. It pays to shoot up in your gums, kids.
He scrawled his name onto the signup sheet at the circulation desk, before sitting down in front of one of the unoccupied PC's.
Logging into his email account, he began to skim over the newest arrivals--most of them confirming shipments of his "goods", except for the last one, which was from a guy known only as Kaz. He was one of Raven's overseas affiliates, and rarely contacted him via the web.
"...Sex trafficking? Kaz, you naughty boy, I may have to retire the kendo stick for this one." he mumbled, raising an eyebrow as he continued to read the letter, his interests piqued.
"Appears to be very lucrative...very lucrative indeed..."
And it was--three times what he was currently making with the drug trade.
Raven's mouth twisted into a feral smile as he began to hurredly scribble down information. As soon as he was done, he cleared the history on the public computer, and left the facility.
Just outside, he found a payphone, and quickly made a call.
"Kidman? I need you and Sick Boy to meet me down at the docks, I think I may have found a solution to our business problem...Well, I want to consult Gypsy first, to see if we have the green light; if so, you and I may be making a trip to Russia."
-
Punk narrowed his eyes at the caged woman, as she laid down her hand.
"Straight, Ace high."
Nightingale smirked, glancing up at the tattooed man as he glared.
"Not cool."
"Go on, take off the shirt."
"This isn't right, I've never been beaten by a WOMAN at strip poker."
"First time for everything. Now take it off."
"And the sad part is, you're still fully clothed."
"Stop stalling."
"And why the shirt? Why can't I take off my shoes or something?"
"Because I said so, that's why."
"And here I was wondering why you'd pick Strip Poker of all games--"
"Look, do you want me to change my mind and make you take off your pants instead?"
"Women..." Punk muttered curses under his breath as he removed his shirt.
"Ooooh nice, pierced nipples AND a stomach tattoo!"
Punk smirked, doing a quick model like spin.
"I take it you approve?"
"Oh, me definitely likey. Ready for the next hand?"
"Well that depends, Nightingale, are you ready to lose your shirt?"
Nightingale shot her caretaker a grin.
"Dream on, Punk."
-
"Can I trust you, kid?"
Tripp looked up as Raven, Kidman and Sick Boy approached him.
"What?"
"It's not a hard question, Tripp. Can I trust you, yes or no?"
Tripp stammered as he managed to grind out an affirmative.
"Excellent, you're getting promoted. Kidman and I are going to be in and out of town for awhile, working out a new business venture, so Sick Boy needs a new wing man."
"Thank you."
"No thanks needed, just your word that you'll keep your mouth shut, especially around your pal from Chicago."
Tripp raised an eyebrow, but nodded his agreement.
"You're a good man, Tripp. Sick Boy, get him trained. Kidman, come with me, we have a Gypsy to consult and plane tickets to book, and packing to do."
Within seconds, Raven and Kidman had departed just as quickly as they'd appeared.
Sick Boy grabbed Tripp by the arm and lead him behind the cargo ship. Flipping open his switch blade, he quickly ripped through the tape on a cardboard box, extracting what appeared to be a statue of The virgin Mary.
"Do you know what this is?" Sick Boy asked, holding up the statue.
"I'm assuming it's a statue of the Virgin Mother." Tripp deadpanned.
"And you'd be making an ass of yourself." Sick Boy retorted, before smashing the statue.
Tripp was about to call out Sick Boy for the blatant act of blasphemy, when he saw the baggy roll out of the hollow statue.
"...Is that?"
"An ounce of cocaine. We sell that, crystal meth, opuim, and of course the standard marijuana. We import them from the ships here and from a cargo plane that comes in from Colombia every Saturday. This is why Raven wanted to know if he could trust you to keep your mouth shut. That means around your girlfriend, around Devine, Rave, Rock, Julio, and especially CM Punk. Are you sure you can handle the responsibility? If not, now is the time to back down and let someone else have the spot."
Tripp stared at his feet, pondering his options for a moment. Finally he looked up at Sick Boy and nodded.
"You have my word, I won't tell a soul."
Sick Boy smirked, clapping Tripp on the shoulder.
"Atta boy. Come on, we've got statues to inventory and junk to move. Time is money."
Sign up to rate and review this story