Test

Normally, ya boi would jump right into the middle of things and show you muhfuckers the shit that be currently happenin’, but that was before. Now, bruh bruh nation finds itself thrust into brand new environments and situations. While in #DubSeaEff (that be WCF for all you niggas that been sleepin’ on Andre Aquarius’ career up to this point), I was usin’ that gab, them strikes, and that supreme cultural influence to terrorize any nigga put in front of me. Things all changed though wit’ that King of the Deathmatch tournament and what I did inside of that shopping mall.

I heard them sirens fillin’ the air not long after I put an end to the match via shootin’ Damien Simmons with a GAWD damn rocket launcher. Yeah yeah, I know what you be thinkin’ right about now. Y’all be like “b..b...but that’s illegal! You’re illegal! Deathmatch doesn’t mean you’re free to attempt murder, you dirty nigger!” Well hold up there just a minute, keyboard warriors and triggered faggots. Yeah, I know that my lifestyle choices come with certain risks. Livin’ reckless like this means that sooner or later, I was bound to end up in some kind’uh fuckin’ pickle.

This particular pickle means that it ain’t wise for ya boy to be stayin’ around the same places I used to be. Stayin’ wit’ one of my homies from #BeachKrew (the dopest stable to ever happen in pro wrestlin’ for any uncultured muhfucks who don’t know) was out of the question. I knew that I had to be gettin’ far away from the East coast and that even goin’ West, it’d be dumb of me to stay at home. The pieces weren’t put together just yet, so there was still that out for me. Luckily, Massah Seff Lerch (the nigga who runs my former place of employment) won’t speak cause that nigga know I got the blackmail on deck and Damien Simmons won’t say shit, because he apparently blacked out from the impact of that blast.

I ain’t stupid though. Layin’ low is mandatory for me right now and there’s only one city in the states where I’m gonna be able to do that. I remember gettin’ faded as fuck awhile back and searchin’ around on Google before stumblin’ into what’s known as the last lawless city in this country, a place so full of dirty hippies and vile drug addicts that law enforcement did their best to avoid havin’ to adventure into it.

Driver: The Slabs ain’t too far away now! Comin’ up on the mountain in just a minute!

The crusty muhfuck I hitched a ride wit’ claimed to know a thing or two about Slab City as well. A bit sketchy himself? Prolly, but any redneck lookin’ dude who is willin’ to scoop my wanderin’ ass up and drive me several hundred miles to that new homefront is alright wit’ me.

Driver: What you doin’ in Slab City anyway, stranger?

Andre: Fresh start.

This nigga chuckles at me sorta like any sus dude in the beginnin’ of a horror movie would.

Driver: Settlin’ down….in Slab City?

Andre: Yeah...problem?

A moment of silence fills the inside of this nigga’s beat up pickup before he changes the subject.

Driver: Well...like I said, there’s Salvation Mountain..

Andre: You a Leonard Knight fan?

Driver: Of course I am! Leonard was a visionary! Now though..just a bit too much’uh tourist trap for my likin’..

Andre: Fair enough.

Continuin’ down the road, we remain mostly silent as the bumps and twists of the road carry us toward the outline of the squatter’s paradise.

Driver: Slab City right there! You’re a first timer, right?

Andre: Yeah..

He slows down, kickin’ up dust as we sputter into our destination.

Driver: Here ya are!

Andre: Thanks again, bruh.

I pull my backpack from the passenger side floor and slide my hand into my pocket to retrieve my wallet.

Driver: What you doin’?

Andre: Here, take it.

His eyes grow wide as he looks down at his hands which are now full of Ben Franklins.

Andre: You earned it.

The driver folds the bills in half and shoves them into his own pocket, lookin’ through his windshield as he does so. As I turn toward the path ahead, I hear his voice once more.

Driver: Word of advice..

Andre: What’s up?

Driver: Don’t EVER go flashin’ that kinda money ‘round here, you got it?

Andre: Yeah, I just figured I’d tip the guy who drove me across most of the state.

Driver: I mean it. Slab City folk ain’t got a whole lot, but they can smell that kind of flash from a mile away.

Andre: I’ll remember that.

I throw my hand up as a last thank you to this nigga for his generosity, but he pays it little mind, optin’ to resume his hard glare through the middle of the town as I mutter under my breath.

Andre: Weird fuckin’ guy..

A cloud of Earth fills the area behind me as the nigga pulls a u-ie and heads back the way we came.
Starin’ up at the sign in front of me, I see rough tag work illustratin’ the vibe of the town.


While I was used to wakin’ up in a campus or some rich white bitch parent’s house, ya boy knows how to adapt. My experience as a drifter among urban locations brings me to this new home. The puss will be different, the conversations will be weird as fuck, and I have the feeling I come away from my time here a different person, but just like everything else I be doin’ in life, Imma ‘bout to make this lawless fuckfest my bitch.






Walkin’ through town, I spot a state worse than I expected. I’m barely able to think through the five million fuckin’ dogs that refuse to stop barkin’, tryna leap off they damn chains to get at me as their owners simply sit out and watch me pass by. Each buildin’ behind them looks like it was thrown together by a fuckin’ retard. At best, they’re poorly nailed together planks of wood, but generally seem to be rough tarp tents barely bigger than some lil’ kids pillow fort.

The voice comin’ from just over my shoulder is that of Mr. NSD, a nigga you won’t see if you was lookin’ wit’ your own eyes.

Nigga, I’m workin’ on shit.

An imaginary friend? Not exactly. Mr. NSD (Mr. No Skimpy Dubs or Dubs as I may also be referrin’ to him), a sort of follower lingerin’ behind me as a result of my decision to ingest copious amounts of hallucinogens throughout the past handful of years. I’d fucked myself up to the point that this spectator nigga from some other fuckin’ plane of existence was able to come to light in the physical world we find ourselves livin’ in.

What? You just gonna sleep out in the open and hope that a coyote don’t come along and make a late night snack out ya ass? 

Well, I’ll figure this shit out soon, but right now there’s an internet cafe up ahead here that I was plannin’ on peepin’.

A fuckin’ internet cafe? In the middle of the desert? Nigga, you tweak ya’self into brain damage territory or somethin’? 

I thought it sounded bizarre too, but shit’s supposed to be legit, man.

You better hope so, cause I ain’t feel like watchin’ ya ass die and ya body ransacked by some scraggly ass meth head. 

As I turned a corner, I notice my destination to be one of the more well built structures in the entire area, actually not half bad if I’m bein’ honest.

: Hey, neighbor!

The lil’ voice speakin’ to me belongs to a scrawny lil’ hippy thot layed out on a couch to my right. She looks up from the screen of a cheap laptop and shoots me a smile. So far, I wouldn’t have engaged wit’ most of these niggas out here, but she seemed to at least be holdin’ onto some sense of sanity on the surface.

Andre: What’s good?

: Not half bad out today, temperature’s a lot better than normal.

Andre: I guess so..

: Let me guess, this is your first time in Slabs, ain’t it?

Again, I wouldn’t be droppin’ details to most, but I’m diggin’ the vibe from this one.

Andre: Yeah..got into some trouble and I heard abou-

: Save it. You don’t gotta explain a word to me or anyone else out here. Last free city in America, right? We’re all looking to refresh our lives.

Andre: Yeah..

: Have a seat if you want, I don’t bite.

She scoots to the right more, closin’ her laptop as she pats a dirty couch cushion for me to sit on. I plop my ass down and squirm about just a bit to get comfortable as she extends a hand.

: I’m Kara.

I accept the handshake, a little thrown off as the vibe leans just a tad business while I stare at this dreadheaded chick I wouldn’t mind smashin’.

Andre: Andre..

Kara: You don’t always got hesitate here. We’re not all bad, you know.

Andre: My bad.

Kara: Don’t worry about it. I’m just fucking with you.

Andre: So...you here alone then?

Kara: Technically yes.

Andre: Ain’t that a literal dangerous?

Kara: Not if you know what you’re doing. You spend some Summers out here and you learn to adapt pretty well.

Andre: You been out here that long?

Kara: A little over four years.

Andre: Shit, hold old is you then? I ain’t seen much more than vets and shit so far.

Kara: Twenty-two.

Andre: Damn.

Kara: Well, parents kicked me out as soon as I came of age and when you don’t have a dime to your name, a city where I don’t have to pay rent sounds like it’s worth a shot.

Andre: Is it then?

Kara: You won’t find another place in the world quite like Slab City.

Andre: You right about that one.

Kara: I know I said not to worry too much about it, but since we’re having such a nice little chat about my background, what about yours? You don’t gotta tell me anything too sensitive if you don’t want, but you seem like an interesting character.

Andre: I’m a wrestler actually.

Kara: No kidding?

Andre: Yeah, you prolly don’t hear that every day, but I enjoy it.

Kara: Are you a pretty big deal then?

Part of me be feelin’ like I could spill the beans right now and let this lil’ thing know that I’ve got a couple million to my name, tell her about how I just fucked off a job wit’ a big touring promotion, but it’s probably best that I don’t.

Andre: I’m pretty good, but mainly just doin’ smaller shows and shit.

Kara: They have you traveling a lot?

Andre: I mean, you end up hoppin’ around to a lot of places for a small chunk of change here and there.

Kara: You got anything coming up soon?

Andre: Not right now.

Kara: Rough go?

Andre: Well, I just left one place I was doin’ a fair bit of work wit’.

Kara: Why not find more then? I bet California has some work out there for you.

Andre: Shit, I dunno.

Kara: Here.

She slides the laptop onto me and flips it open.

Kara: I bet you’ve got some offers somewhere.

Andre: Maybe.

Since she seems eager to lend a hand and help ya boy get comfortable, I figure I’ll entertain it a bit. Pullin’ open a Google chrome tab, I wait a second to let this slow ass internet connection load up my old hotmail account. Prolly nothin’ in there, but I ain’t ‘bout to use my WCF linked shit and have her askin’ all these extra questions right off the bat like that.

Andre: Looks like there ain’t nothin’ here.

Kara: Check your junk mail.

Andre: Looks like a whole lot of nothin’.

Kara: That’s because you aren’t searching right.

She takes the laptop back, typin’ in the word “wrestling” into a search bar and shootin’ me another smile as we continue to wait on the laggin’ ass net.

Kara: Here’s one!

Andre: Wait, really?

Kara: Yeah, Sin City Wrestling?

Andre: Let me see.

Leanin’ over I see the content of some old ass message from five years ago.


Andre: Holy shit! Berkeley All-Star? I was barely an adult when I was doin’ that shit. Who knows if this SCW place is even around anymore.

Kara: I mean, the number is right there.

Lil’ mama ain’t givin’ up apparently.

Andre: I suppose.

Kara: I’ll write it down for you. We don’t have to worry about contacting them right now if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’re still gettin’ settled in.

Andre: Yeah, bit of an adjustment.

Kara: Where’s your camp at?

Andre: My camp?

Kara: You don’t have one?

Andre: I ain’t really plan that part out too well I guess.

Kara: Look, you seem like an alright guy. It’d be cruel of me to leave you out in the Slabs at night without a place to stay. You’d stick out like a sore thumb. I’ve got a camper not far from here. I’ve got enough room if you want.

Andre: You sure?

A few hours out in this hippy haven and I’m already talkin’ all polite and shit. Fuck sake, what am I becomin’ right now?

Kara: Of course. Hospitality is key.

She grins and folds the laptop up, motioning for me to stand up and follow her lead.

Kara: Welcome to Slab City.






Kara’s camper was a bit dumpy, but was way better than the places of dwellin’ that most these niggas was usin’ in Slabs, a definite bright spot like the cafe was earlier. We were just a few minutes away from the crowdedness of town, but far enough out to escape the barkin’ and shit.

Kara: You want some tea?

Andre: Sure.

She be brewin’ up that shit legit for a minute before turnin’ to me and lettin’ it sit for a bit.

Kara: Here.

She slides me a piece of paper. Scribbled on it is the number from earlier, the one for SCW.

Kara: We’re here and just about settled in for the night. Why not give them a call?

Andre: Yeah, fuck it.

I pull my phone out, tap away at the screen, and dial that shit. Kara be flashin’ that same smile at me as I hear my shit start to ring.

Andre: You know, feds close down all the time and this shit bein’ like five years old. I’m tellin’ you, I don’t think Imma be gettin’ an answer from th-

To ya boy’s surprise, I’m cut off by a voice on the other end.

Andre: SCW?

Kara lights up a bit more as she hears the conversation start up.

Andre: The name’s Andre, I’m a talent actu-


Andre: Actually, this finna sound a bit weird, but you guys actually contacted me a few years back about a contract.


Andre: Yeah.


Andre: Andre. You said one of your scouts spotted me at a Berkeley All-Star show.


Andre: Last name’s Taylor, I worked there until I was nineteen.

Andre: Dope dope.


Fuck...they got me wit’ this one. A big detail I didn’t plan to throw out there just yet, especially in front of Kara. Good thing she ain’t able to hear the other end of this.

Andre: Andre Aquarius actually.

Andre: Yeah, that’s me, bruh.


I was thrown off wit’ that one, didn’t expect it to be that quick and to the point. I guess they be ridin’ that AA hype for real. Let’s see...today’s Wednesday..

Andre: Friday afternoon sound good?

Andre: Yeah, you too.


Kara: You got a meeting then I take it?

Andre: Yeah, don’t know how the fuck I’m finna get there though. I didn’t even drive here. My ass hitched to Slabs.

Kara: That’s the way it goes. You shouldn’t have any trouble gettin’ out if you got a little cash to give.

Andre: Yeah, that ain’t no issue.

Again, she just keep on smilin’ at me.

Kara: Tea should be done by now. You need anything extra with yours?

Andre: Nah, that’s fine.

Before grabbin’ our drinks, Kara leans over and pushes a finger under ya boy’s chin for a kiss. I feel them lips intertwine for a few seconds before she pulls away bashfully.

Kara: I..should get that tea..






Gettin’ into the show was hell. Turns out, when a bunch’uh sweaty ass bald muhfucks in faded merch from the GAWD damn 90’s show up to a casino wrestlin’ event, they show up extra early, especially when they hear that SCW’s biggest signin’ of all time is set to make his debut.


Tell me about it, bruh. I thought my ass was finna be stuck out there all night.


I am, but what can I say? My ass got a weak spot for white women..even if she a fuckin’ hippy.


The way I see it, I’m far away from the WCF brand and out of that spotlight. I can pop over, do these less broadcasted shows under a newer and more intimate company, and take my happy ass back to Slab City after the shows.


That’s what the contract has me doin’, right? Niggas always be lookin’ for a franchise type piece to add to they roster and Mister Kunta fills that role for #EssSeaDub now. Besides, this industry needs a lil’ of that lightskin goodness bustin’ up in it’s canals and shit, ya feel?

My back and forth with Dubs is cut off as this Frodo Baggins lookin’ faggot bumps right into ya boy. He straightens the cheap ass suit he be wearin’ as he eagerly raises a mic toward my mouth.

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Andre Aquarius! Andre Aquarius!

I swear every federation in the fuckin’ country has one or two of these no-name, squirrely muhfuckers runnin’ around in search of someone to get a word in with.

Andre: Nigga, the fuck you want?

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: I just want to say on behalf of everyone in SCW, we are SUPER excited to have you on board! Just a few minutes of your time if you could, Mr. Aquarius!

Andre: Boi, just call me Andre.

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Andre, what made you decide to sign with Sin City?!

Andre: I get paid to cave nigga’s heads in wit’ my elbow. That’s what I be doin’ to bring home bacon. SCW decided “Hey, this nigger has spunk!” and paid me a buncha fuckin’ money, so it’s a no-brainer.

See, you can say shit like that, because it makes white people uncomfortable which means it’s funny and they feel obligated to keep their mouths shut about it.

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Where do you see yourself ranking among the rest of the Sin City locker room?!

Andre: I am the rankin’, bruh bruh. It’s SickWaves City now and that means that the line starts wit’ me. Whether you book Kunta at the bottom or the top, I run that shiiit like the GAWD DAMN star attraction that #EssSeaDub and all them dudes waitin’ outside the buildin’ know me to be. That means that Calvin, Kris, James, and any other faggot in the back clingin’ to them hopes and aspirations get to lineup before my ass and pray to them GAWDS up above that my table scraps fall into they waitin’ mouths. Them niggas can try to convince themselves that they still big fish, but Blackamura a fuckin’ shark, my guy!

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Surely, you’ll get there soon enough, but what about your first opponent under the SCW banner, Killian Sweete?!

Andre: Killian finna be granted the honor of bein’ the first muhfucker to experience #FuccboiGenocide here in #EssSeaDub. The ability to tear beta cuck faggots like Killian limb from limb is exactly why SCW was interested in havin’ me on the roster in the first place. Well, that and the fact that I bring brand legitimacy that they just ain’t gonna be able to pull from any other nigga they got.

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Do you see Porter playing any sort of factor in your match tonight?! That Black Sheep factor may be something to look out for.

Andre: Nah, bruh bruh. You think I’m supposed to be shakin’ over this homo comin’ down to the ring wit’ a fuckin’ cheerleader? This shit corny as fuck, man. I ain’t ‘bout to be stopped by the brothers cuck’s combined lack of might, especially given that them niggas still finna be focused tryin’ to grab tag gold and tryin’ to not suck the big ol’ hangdown at Violent Conduct. This ain’t Killian lookin’ to kill Andre Aquarius to satisfy his own bloodlust. This is him constantly lookin’ over his shoulder and lookin’ for some sign of approval from his bro like he be missin’ somethin’ in that early childhood, ya know?

You wanna talk about the Black Sheep factor though? Nigga, I AM all that as just one nigga! I been that dude in tag work once upon a time and I been that shit when I was pickin’ up the upset wins over world champions in #DubSeaEff. SickWaves Blackamura be that mold breaker y’all niggas been dyin’ for, not the fuckin’ Brothers Sweete! Neither of these two would know the first thing ‘bout bein’ different, because they ain’t even a lil’ bit. I been watchin’ the tape and all I been lookin’ at is ya run of the mill, dime’uh dozen bullshit you’d find in any other promotion.

I ain’t starin’ at a couple’uh key ingredients. I’m up here takin’ a whiff of what be cookin’ up in the kitchen and what I’m smellin’ is a whole lot of squat. I’m not here against Killian as the rookie in the situation. Kunta is Gordon Ramsay up in this bitch! I’m the muhfucker that knows what a spice cabinet is, the one wit’ them dank ass recipes to fill up ya gut wit’ the finest dinin’ experience, the solution to the unseasoned chicken breast that is a Killian Sweete match! I get to force this man to step away from the ham and cheese sandwich and show him that when you against Andre muhfuckin’ Aquarius, the light mayo just won’t work.

See, ya boy came up doin’ the rough shit in life. I been that lil’ nigga slummin’ it and fightin’ to make it for a minute now. I know how to get down and dirty wit’ the best of’em and when you put my ass against a nigga who don’t do shit that way, that’s when I start exposin’ weakness and end up doin’ bad things to people. Ain’t nobody ‘round here really been around that kinda wildcard factor before. This ain’t a walk in the park or a pre-PPV warm up match for somebody else. This is simply me goin’ out there and crushin’ someone’s soul tonight.

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: You seem pretty confident among the circumstances.

Andre: Circumstances? I’m standin’ here tellin’ you they ain’t nothin’! Jake and Logan Paul ain’t finna be the ones to put no cracks in that lightskin armor, ya dig? Confident? You damn right, boi. I been poppin’ cherries since the sixth grade. I’m a vet when it come time to smash and that’s really what this sport about, right? You either takin’ or receivin’ and take a look at the nigga stand before you. Do I look like I’m ‘bout to go out there and spread my legs tonight? Helllllll nah! That mandingo machismo comin’ through to penetrate some trust fund babies, bruh bruh!

Lil’ white coked-out faggot: Some choice words from Andre Aquarius, SCW’s newest acquisition!

I step away from the interview as it meets an end, approachin’ Gorilla as I wait for the signal.

I’m bringin’ Killian’s head back to Slabs.

: Andre, you’re up!

I stretch out my arms and shine up that money makin’ elbow real nice as the bass past the curtains vibrates through me. #Showtime