Paranoid

It had been more than a week since Slade Castle had seen or heard from his tag team partner, and with their challenge to The Phantom Troupe having been accepted and the match just a few days away, it was time to take matters into his own hands. It wasn’t unusual for the tag team partners to keep their personal business unspoken between each other, but if Julius’ absence went on much longer, Slade knew it could threaten their professional endeavors. Visiting Julius’ suburban home that he shared with his mother was not something Slade made a habit out of, but he was willing to make the exception if it meant having a better chance of busting the heads of DJ Hunter and Kyle Valentine.

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “Well, well, well…if it isn’t Mr. Slade Castle himself! It’s about time you came by to introduce yourself!”

Momma Fairweather greeted Slade at the front door with a wide smile as she looked him up and down as if he were a prime cut of beef and she were a ravenous wolf.

SLADE CASTLE: “Uh…hello, ma’am. I’m sorry to call unannounced, but I was hoping to talk to Julius…”

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “Mmm-hmm! A tall drink of water like you don’t ever need to apologize for showing up on my doorstep! Now you just walk that fine-looking behind inside and I’ll do my best to get Julius up and moving!”

Slade had never been nervous before a fight, even in one that involved machine gun fire and explosives but accepting the older woman’s invitation made him feel a little uneasy. He shut the door behind him and remained in the front room as Momma Fairweather made her way toward a nearby staircase. As she walked away, Slade felt as if she was thrusting her hips from side to side a little more than was necessary.

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “JULIUS! Get your lazy ass out of bed and get down here! You’ve got company!”

Slade glanced down at his watch, and seeing that it was well into the afternoon, he was confused to hear that Julius hadn’t gotten up for the day.

SLADE CASTLE: “Mrs. Fairweather, if Julius is sick or something, I can come back another time…”

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “Oh no, he ain’t sick at all. Truth be told, I don’t know what’s gotten into that boy. He’s been locked up in his room for a week now, ever since those government men came by to question him…”

This information was new to Slade, and he immediately wondered if this meeting involved The Illuminati or The Purple Reign. He silently cursed to himself as he felt the physical absence of the gun he would normally tuck into the back of his pants. Suddenly taking the situation more seriously, Slade stepped forward and put his hand on Momma Fairweather’s shoulder to gently step in front of her. While Slade was all business, he couldn’t help but notice her purr and act faint upon his touch.

SLADE CASTLE: “Have you seen Julius since these men talked to him?”

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “Well, no. I’ve tried knocking but he refuses to talk to me. You don’t think anything’s wrong, do you?”

Her infatuation with the handsome visitor began to subside as her concern for her son started to grow.

SLADE CASTLE: “I’m gonna need you to stay down here, Mrs. Fairweather. Which room is his?”

MOMMA FAIRWEATHER: “Second door on the right…”

Without further explanation, Slade began to jog up the steps, ascending two at a time. Julius’ mother remained on the first floor as instructed, but even in this potentially dire situation, Slade could feel the older woman’s eyes following his backside. Upon reaching the second door on the right, Slade banged his fist against it.

SLADE CASTLE: “Julie! Are you in there? Open up, man!”

Silence. As if nothing living were beyond the door. That was enough to convince Slade to raise his leg and slam his boot against it, sending it flying open. He rushed inside with fists clenched and senses fully alert, but he was immediately overcome by the thick haze of marijuana smoke that filled the room.

SLADE CASTLE: “Julie? *cough cough* Goddammit…”

Just then, a flurry of movement burst through the smoke as someone charged at Castle.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “You’ll never take me alive, motherfucker!”

Julius slammed into Castle with a spear that took both men off their feet and it was all Slade could do to keep his partner’s hands from wrapping around his neck.

SLADE CASTLE: “Julius! What the fuck, man? Stand down! I said stand down, goddammit!”

Slade shifted his weight and rolled on top of Julius, pressing the incredibly high and half-naked man against the floor. Only then did a look of clarity form in Julius’ eyes.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Castle? What…what the fuck are you doing in my motherfucking bedroom?”

The look of recognition was enough to convince Slade to release Julius and push himself off the floor.

SLADE CASTLE: “Your mother let me in. No one’s heard from you in weeks, Julie. You didn’t even do The F’n Edge! What the fuck is going on with you?”

As Julius rose to a seated position on the floor, Slade could literally see the paranoia that had embraced him. He made his way to the nearest window, opened the blinds, and then slid the window open to allow some fresh air to enter the room. That’s all it took for Julius to leap to his feet as he rushed toward the window, desperate to shut it.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Get away from the motherfucking window!”

Slade blocked Julius' path, slapped him across the face, and shoved him into a nearby chair.

SLADE CASTLE: “Not until you start talking.”

As if he suddenly realized how crazy he was acting, Julius let out a heavy sigh and hung his head forward.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Motherfucker...someone’s out to get me, Castle.”

SLADE CASTLE: “Uh-huh. You sure you haven’t been smoking too much?”

Julius shook his head back and forth.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Nah, man. They ran down my ex in the street…They poisoned three motherfuckers that I used to run with…and according to the feds, they even blew up a warehouse full of people…including Marissa Covington…”

SLADE CASTLE: “That Purple Reign chick that you had the hots for? Damn, Julius…I’m sorry…”

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Yeah, me too. I convinced the feds that I didn’t have anything to do with that shit, but it’s pretty motherfucking convenient that I had ties to all of those people and now they’re dead. Seems to me like someone’s out to trim the Fairweather family tree. Probably those motherfuckers in The Illuminati…”

Slade paused for a moment, considering everything that Julius had told him.

SLADE CASTLE: “Or someone who’s looking out for your best interests.”

Julius looked up, now even more confused than before.

SLADE CASTLE: “Think about it, Julie. They offed the ex that tried to frame you for murder. They killed the three sidekicks that tried to murder you. Then they targeted the secret society that made your life miserable over the past few months. Seems to me that someone is doing you a favor.”

While Slade was rationalizing to himself as much as he was trying to comfort his tag team partner, his words made some sense in Julius’ clouded mind.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “That…actually makes sense…”

Finally, Slade shrugged his shoulders.

SLADE CASTLE: “You know what doesn’t make sense? You, hiding in your own filth. It fucking smells in here, Julie, and not just from your constant smoking.”

Julius returned Slade’s shrug with one of his own.

SLADE CASTLE: “Look, you know I’ve still got some contacts. Let me ask around and see what I can find out. Until then, you need to get your ass in the shower, drink a pot of coffee, and get into the gym. We’ve got The Phantom Troupe, and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna let you cost us our chance at revenge. We cool?”

Hearing Slade use his own way of talking finally made Julius smile.

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “You’d do that for me?”

SLADE CASTLE: “You know I would. Cause through all our fights, all the hell we put each other through, you’d do it for me.”

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Well in that case, yeah motherfucker. We cool.”





Following his hot shower, coffee, and a full meal prepared by his relieved mother, Julius got to work.

He hit the weights.

He threw the medicine ball.

Push-ups. Sit-ups. Chin-ups.

The Motor City Psychos sparred in the ring.

Momma Fairweather eyed Slade Castle like a fat man in a cake factory.

The paranoid, pot-addled motherfucker got his ass in fighting shape. Then there was only one thing left to do…




JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “Phantom Troupe, we’re coming for you, motherfuckers! Dropping the tag team titles was the worst motherfucking thing that could ever happen to a pair of hard-as-nails pimps like me and Castle. That one blemish on our record stands out like a motherfucking pimple on prom night, and it’s way past time we Oxycuted that shit once and for all. Just imagine, losing to a pair of motherfuckers named DJ and Kyle. That shit’s almost as embarrassing as losing to a couple of motherfuckers named Chad and Karen. Well, fuck that shit. You wannabe fuck bois are about to get what you’ve got coming to you.”

SLADE CASTLE: “What my partner is trying to say is that the only reason you were ever the tag champs to begin with is because we were caught up in too much other shit to give you our full attention. Rest assured, we’re coming at you with clear eyes and minds set on pain and brutality. That might sound a little cliche, but there’s no better way to put it. You got lucky against us once and that won’t happen again. Julie and I are gonna shut the door on this long-standing issue with The Phantom Troupe, just like that steel cage door is gonna slam shut on all four of us.”

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “In honor of all the Red Bulls you’ve chugged and all the drywall you’ve punched, me and Slade are gonna beat you from one side of that cage to the other. There ain’t gonna be no BFG Division getting in the middle of things. No one outside of that cage is gonna have an impact on what goes down. This is a fight between two men, namely me and Castle, and two little boys who’ve gotten away with too much bullshit for too goddamn long. Insert all the woodshed, red-headed stepchild, government mule bullshit you can think of, and it still won’t compare to what The Motor City Psychos are gonna do to the Phantom Troupe.”

SLADE CASTLE: “One way or another, things between the four of us are going to end for good. We’ve already got our eyes set on bigger and better things, such as getting the tag team belts back where they belong. Bishop and Karlson will get theirs in due time, but right now you two are on top of the hit list. Hell, maybe Jackson and Thompson will be the tag champs before we get our shot. Maybe it will be the Golden Girls or even that runway model and his Hollywood bitch sidekick. In the end it won’t matter. DJ and Kyle are just the first step on our way back to the titles, a warm-up for what’s to come.”

JULIUS FAIRWEATHER: “We made this challenge with the intention of paying some outstanding debts. Bishop and Karlson didn’t have the jam to accept, and maybe that means they’re smarter than we gave them credit for. If that’s the case, it’s looking like The Phantom Troupe are a couple of dumb motherfuckers. Some people might say you're the ones with guts while Mike and Liz are just a pair of pussies, but those are the people who’ve never had a pair of pissed off badasses like me and Castle staring them down. So no, DJ and Kyle ain’t getting any credit for accepting our challenge. They just get to be first.”

SLADE CASTLE: “Two-time tag champs sounds pretty damn good to me but ending The Phantom Troupe inside of a steel cage sounds even better. We’ll see you boys on Thursday, and every other tag team in Project: Honor should watch this one real close. If you didn’t know why we’re called The Motor City Psychos before now, you’re about to find out.”