Post by Deleted on Aug 16, 2022 22:32:33 GMT -5
== JULY 3, 2022 ==
== 11:50 AM ==
The date and timestamp appear clearly in the bottom right corner of the screen, a label of “Living Room A” affixed at the top left. From this camera viewpoint, it reflects facing towards the back of the house but from a three-quarter-overhead view. Ken is reclined back in a recliner chair, appearing to try to apply pressure around his temples with one hand. Sitting nearby on the carpet is Rachel, who appears to look up as Jeremy walks into the room.
[ Rachel ]
I mean, this isn’t the first time he’s pulled something like this… Or am I misremembering, Jay?
He appears to have a festive chef’s hat on, carrying a plate of Brownies with him - and is already scarfing one down as he walks over to Ken first.
[ Jeremy ]
Yes, this isn’t the first time. Graham tends to lose his attachment to rational thinking when you push him. Brownie?
Ken drops his hand, noticing the plate of brownies is almost hovering over his chest.
[ Ken ]
Umm…sure…? Can I at least try to sit up first?
[ Jeremy ]
Oh, sorry!
Jeremy steps back a couple paces, allowing Ken to slowly rouse himself to grab at the recliner level to force it forward.
[ Jeremy ]
I’m telling you, I want to hack your fancy convection oven to play Pemex whenever the timer goes off. As a matter of fact, let me see if that's even possible.
[ Ken ]
I really don’t fucking get why he’s basically been gone for eighteen hours a day, let alone expecting you two to handle everything while he goes and acts like a dumbass. All that has to happen is one call to the cops, and his ass will end up in jail and he’ll stop it. Maybe…that, or he’s going to end up getting shot…
Ken, who has stopped trying to sit himself back up a few words in, begins to do so again - clearly self-distracted. This time, he succeeds.
[ Rachel ]
You really don’t get how this family operates still, do you? And you need to stop upsetting yourself, you’re going to end up standing up too quickly and falling down and none of us need that.
[ Ken ]
And maybe you don’t understand that your cousin, my husband, is out there acting a goddamn fool and it’s scary enough having a Grade III concussion!
Ken does stand up, causing Rachel to immediately begin to stand. Shortly after this, Ken’s legs go visibly wobbly. He thankfully stumbles back into the recliner he was sitting in, with Rachel quickly stepping in and making sure he doesn’t fully fall back out of the chair. However, Ken appears to be leaning forward into Rachel. Jeremy has already stepped out of the room to set the plate back down in the kitchen.
[ Rachel ]
Jeremy, you may want to set the damn plate down, he’s heavier than he looks!
[ Jeremy ]
Word.
Ken, who seems to come back quickly, grabs onto Rachel’s shirt sleeve. Jeremy has since stepped back into the room and is making his way towards them as Ken begins replying.
[ Ken ]
I’m… I’m okay…
[ Rachel ]
No, you’re not…
Ken, trying to push himself back into the chair, appears to get frustrated as he can’t seem to catch his bearings. Rachel is able to help him move back, but he clearly is not accepting the fact that he’s not fully in control of his balance still.
[ Ken ]
God DAMMIT!
Jeremy raises one hand up, as if to stop Ken’s outburst.
[ Jeremy ]
Hey man, not so loud. Aneurysms are a thing, and I don’t want to be cleaning up puke from the carpet. By the way, you got an extra USB 3 cord anywhere? If I do a little bit of extra scripting, I can hook my cell phone up to the oven and change all the default tones. Prepare to hear Tarzan Boy every time this thing is preheated.
Although Jeremy comes in with some humor, Ken’s frustration has let loose - holding his forehead with one hand, tears begin rolling down.
[ Ken ]
You two shouldn’t be the ones here taking care of me! Fuck, when are these headaches going to STOP?!
[ Jeremy ]
When you stop letting yourself have them. And also, when you've got something in your stomach. Last I checked you hadn't gotten your ibuprofen 800 yet.
Rachel stands up, appearing almost appalled.
[ Rachel ]
You got your head slammed in a bathroom stall, twice, and you only got ibuprofen?
[ Ken ]
And give Graham the chance to swallow a whole bottle of Percocet? Again?!
Ken laughs in derision, still clearly fighting through head pain.
[ Ken ]
Not a fucking chance, Rach!
[ Rachel ]
So you’ve been suffering through the pain because you’re afraid your husband is going to go Death Diving again? Oh, honey… He wants to kill someone over you, there ain’t a chance in Hell he would’ve pulled that. Get your reasoning why…
[ Jeremy ]
Plus, he wouldn’t know which ceiling panel I have it stored in. Speaking of, let me know if you ever redo that drop ceiling in the half bath downstairs. I still haven't found that dab rig. He's also not here, except maybe checking the security server. For all we know, he’s watching you right now.
[ Ken ]
I swear, if you have any fucking Vicodin stored down there, I will look the other way… All I want is for it to stop so I can sleep for more than three hours at a time…
It’s clear the man is in pain - mostly physical, some emotional, but definitely physical.
[ Jeremy ]
Well, let's theoretically say that I knew a guy. Let's say I could get some.
[ Ken ]
The fucking Hell are you asking your son for shit!
Ken grasps his head with both hands, covering his eyes. Clearly, that outburst may not have been a smart idea, as he groans.
[ Jeremy ]
Stop. I don't need him to get anything in this world. But I also can’t even give you Children’s Tylenol until you put something in your stomach.
Jeremy exits the room while still talking, only to come back in with the plate of brownies.
[ Jeremy ]
That’s not just me being thoughtful of you, that's a description of the function of opioids.
Jeremy nearly shoves the plate’s edge into Ken’s chest, almost as if he’s holding him hostage with an improvised weapon - of food.
[ Jeremy ]
Please, have a couple brownies. I made a bunch, and if I eat any more, I’m going to regret it.
Ken sighs, taking two of the brownies. However, the camera shifts briefly to “Living Room M1”, which appears to be a camera in the fireplace mantle somewhere - where it catches Ken stopping and locking eyes…or, eye with Jeremy; Jeremy’s left eye is suspiciously only half-open and not opening any further.
[ Ken ]
I swear I’m going to have a fucking gut again by the time I can even begin working out again… Blink if you’re stoned, Jeremy.
The camera shifts back to “Living Room A” as Jeremy pulls the plate back, pivoting towards Rachel.
[ Rachel ]
And you say Graham’s a calorie counter.
[ Ken ]
Well, the stoner keeps feeding me sweets!
Jeremy turns his head towards Ken, defending his selections.
[ Jeremy ]
They help you feel better! Trust me!
Ken, appearing annoyed, lifts his t-shirt up and points towards his abs - which are slightly less defined than previous.
[ Ken ]
Do you know how hard it was to make this fucking six-pack look as good as it did when I fought in the cage? I’m going to be 42 this year, Jeremy. FOURTY FUCKING TWO!
Ken lets go of the shirt, letting it slide back down on its own.
[ Ken ]
You have no idea how much work someone like me has to put in to keep looking like a trophy husband to a 30-year-old at my age…given he doesn’t end up in an orange jumpsuit first…
Oh, Ken, you don’t have to do anything to be a trophy. Graham’s lucky you picked him.
[ Jeremy ]
Congratulations. You just figured out the meaning to life, the universe, and everything. Now, you gonna eat the brownie, or you going to keep complaining about your womanly figure?
[ Ken ]
Bitch, can you let me at least finish these two first?
This catches Jeremy off guard, causing him to laugh. Even Rachel laughs. Who knew Ken could be so catty?
[ Ken ]
At the rate you’re trying to shovel stuff into me, I’ll be adding Crossfit back into my regiment. You also push food like Graham’s Abuela.
Ken mimics the infamous Noom commercial as he delivers his next sentence.
[ Ken ]
LEAVE ABUELA ALONE!
[ Jeremy ]
Who do you think gave me this recipe? Now if she'd just start selling her beans too, it would be the perfect one stop shop…
Jeremy shuffles back off into the kitchen, leaving both Ken and Rachel looking at each other confused.
== JULY 3, 2022 ==
== 12:27 PM ==
A label of “Kitchen B” affixed at the top left. From this camera viewpoint, it reflects facing towards the front of the house and still from a three-quarter-overhead view - these are clearly cameras posted in corners of the rooms. We hear a couple rings before we hear what sounds like the phone being fumbled a bit, a call being placed on speaker.
[ Jeremy ]
It’s about time you picked up.
[ Graham ]
Yo! Sorry, just got back to the car after the most recent stakeout and almost dropped the phone.
Pacing back and forth between the two entryways of the kitchen, Jeremy fishes around into his pockets.
[ Jeremy ]
I figured you just didn’t want Ross to hear you stalking him, so you had your phone on silent. Yeah. A little tip, partner. If you’re gonna stalk someone, don’t stalk someone whose kid got a GoPro from Grandpa for their birthday.
[ Graham ]
You mean the one he had strapped on him when he was running into everyone’s rooms on Christmas late at night?
[ Jeremy ]
Yeah. That GoPro.
Maneuvering his way around without drawing anyone else’s attention, Jeremy pulls out his pack of cigarettes and subsequently a lighter as he finds a door to the outside world.
[ Graham ]
Sick little fucker… I swear, if he has anything questionable of me out there… Claimed he deleted that shit…
[ Jeremy ]
You think you’re mad now? Don’t go on YouTube.
[ Graham ]
…excuse me?
As Jeremy steps outside and lights up we see that the camera has shifted to “Back Deck A”, which is set towards a corner that faces outwards towards the backyard, but still catches the entrance door back into the house.
[ Jeremy ]
Yep. Videos WERE private, at first. You can’t keep memories on VHS anymore, so this is the best way to do it.
[ Graham ]
Whoa…whoa…at first?
[ Jeremy ]
Yeah, I couldn’t watch any of them so I taught him how to publish. Check it out-
Graham’s voice almost sounds as if it jumped three octaves and is almost inaudible - almost as if he got kicked in the nuts while finding out he’s adopted.
[ Graham ]
HOW MUCH DID HE CATCH?!
[ Jeremy ]
Well, the video of you throwing your wallet at a preacher hit 250,000 views.
[ Graham ]
Wait, what? Oh, so it wasn’t footage of that…
[ Jeremy ]
No, that got 337,000 views.
[ Graham ]
Fuck! You realize that shit will put both Ken and I, let alone you, in jail?!
[ Jeremy ]
STOP TRAFFICKING MIDGETS OUT OF THE HOUSE THEN!
Pause.
[ Graham ]
Resume. I think you and I are talking about two different things.
[ Jeremy ]
Nah, we’re on the same page here. It’s not so fun when it’s you getting videotaped doing private shit, huh?
[ Graham ]
No, bro, I think you’re crossing up what I’m saying. I had to take that thing away from him on Christmas because he literally burst in on Ken and I at 2 in the morning. Put together the time, and the fact that I had a tie on my doorknob, and figure out what was going on for me to do that.
[ Jeremy ]
Yeah, it was the same tie you wore to my wedding.
HOLY SHIT, I DIDN’T SEE THAT COMING! AHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!
[ Graham ]
…oh God. Well, hope you liked the view of Ken’s ass bouncing, and please tell me it’s deleted.
[ Jeremy ]
You looked like two lumberjacks fighting over a corn cob. And yes, it didn’t even make it to PornHub.
He appears to almost be enjoying himself making Graham sweat as much as he is this cigarette.
[ Graham ]
Got more of those lines? Because I’d really like for you to get to the point of why you’re interrupting me while I plot your son’s death.
[ Jeremy ]
This is something that’s always pissed me off with you, brother. You overthink shit. You overthink it to the point you’ve exhausted all logical branches and just mosey right on into what the fuck territory, brother!
Graham chuckles at this. Jeremy realizes his mistake, but it is far too late to correct it.
[ Jeremy ]
God damn it…
[ Graham ]
So…guess you’re putting your reading glasses finally on? Are you gonna burn me in Paris, darling? Because if you are, you better make it count.
[ Jeremy ]
And you reference shit I don’t have a clue what the fuck you’re talking about!
And now he’s gone full Cornette. Great. What’s next, Schiavone?
[ Graham ]
YOU’RE BEST FRIENDS WITH A GAY MAN! YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT!
[ Jeremy ]
Dude, you know God damn good and well that I am useless at being the responsible adult and being the one to talk sense into anybody. This isn’t gonna be pretty, and it’s not gonna sound cool when you play it back. But at least it’ll make fucking sense, unlike what you’re trying to do.
Dammit, he did. I walked us all right into that, I am so sorry! However, Graham laughs, screaming out as he does so. Between his words, he continues to cackle before he turns into Trixie Mattel for eight seconds.
[ Graham ]
Honey! HONEY! HON-AY! AHHH!!!
Jeremy sighs, an audible neck crack as he tweaks his neck slightly. He steps back into the house, the camera feed switching back to “Kitchen B”. Clearly, all of those vocal impressions he just did were not intentional and definitely weren’t meant to be humorous - but, they happened. We have to accept this tragedy. This time, it’s more than clear he’s speaking in his own voice. As he speaks, he paces around in the kitchen.
[ Jeremy ]
Okay, hon-ay. See if you can follow me here without stopping to fucking jack off. You remember a long time ago back in Evolution Pro? You said “Ariel’s a whore” and I said “stop saying that shit or I’ll beat your ass.” Now, before I did that, did I spend months coming up with a big ass plan that required me to do sus shit just to try and look like I was on an even playing field? Or did I just say “ight bro, I told you what I was gonna do” and did I just do it? Did I overthink it? Did I need to go fucking private investigator on you?
Midway through Jeremy’s questioning, he has moved his way into the Living Room. We switch to “Living Room A”, which is the opposite corner facing towards the kitchen. Both Ken and Rachel just stare towards Jeremy, who appears to not realize that he’s allowing both of them to hear exactly what is being said.
[ Graham ]
If you remember, this happened when you decided to show up to my home and piss in my ex’s car, so you shouldn’t be surprised. Speaking of which, need some Skittles?
[ Jeremy ]
Your ex was a meth-addicted, abusive piece of shit. I shoved a bag of Skittles up his ass before they buried him in the ground. You wanna go grab me that bag, or shut the fuck up for a second and listen to me?
Ken looks towards Rachel, tapping her with his big toe on the shoulder. The camera catches him mouthing “What is the deal with these two and Skittles?”
[ Graham ]
Were they Original or Tropical?
Rachel shrugs.
[ Jeremy ]
Brightside.
[ Graham ]
You monster.
I agree, Graham. Rachel even cringed!
[ Jeremy ]
He wasn’t getting the Wild Berry ones, that’s for damn sure.
[ Graham ]
By the way, your molotov isn’t burning yet and I’m about 30 seconds away from hanging up this call. Right now, you haven’t said anything of value that warranted I pick up.
As soon as this is heard, Rachel can be seen getting upset with Graham and is about to stand up. Jeremy, noticing this, extends a hand to indicate to back down.
[ Jeremy ]
30 seconds? I’ll only need 29.
Jeremy mouths quickly to Rachel “I’ve got this!”
[ Graham ]
Twenty-eight….
At this time, Jeremy clenches a fist and almost raises it into the air like some random villain.
[ Jeremy ]
Shut the fuck up! Just shut the fuck up, and beat my son’s ass! He needs that! He’s got everything he’s got coming to him and then some! I don’t give a fuck how bad you beat the shit out of him! Beating him into retirement would be the best thing for him, his son, and in the end all of us. He’d have no choice but to stay home and be a good dad. So do what you gotta do to him next month at...what’s Larry or Jax or whoever is claiming they run the shots now calling that show?
[ Graham ]
I think it’s Solstice.
[ Jeremy ]
Then just go to Solstice and beat the fucking brakes off Ross. Don’t do this dumb shit that you’ve fallen for time and time again! One minute it’s stalking, next minute you’re playing mind games, the next minute you’re trying to have a rematch in a big ass glass dome full of barbed wire. Or was it an electrified cage? I don’t know, either way it’s not wrestling. It’s a stunt show with personal vendettas.
Graham almost sounds as if he’s squealing with glee after Jeremy finishes his sentence.
[ Graham ]
Well, since I’m such a goddamn spot monkey, that’s a great match idea! I’ll see if I can get someone to blow a huge glass dome for that. They gotta make sure there’s at least a few thin spots I can throw his ass through or something. Better yet, let’s have this match be on top of a fucking skyscraper so I can watch him splat once he lands on someone’s piece of shit Ford Ranger driving down the highway!
At this point, Rachel is about to tackle Jeremy from a sitting position - she’s livid. Jeremy backs away, returning to the kitchen and back towards the exit back to the deck. The cameras quickly swift as Jeremy is pulling out another cigarette and lighting up mid-way as he exits back to the deck. This time, though, he steps out further and triggers another camera angle - “Backyard B”, which is what appears to be from above the Guest House and shows the entire back deck.
[ Jeremy ]
No, you fucking idiot! NO FIGHT TOWER! NO FATAL ATTRACTION! NO FUCKING SHARON STONE SHOWING HER GOD DAMN PUSSY TO SELL TICKETS, NO FUCKING DOING STUPID EMO SHIT THAT DOESN’T SELL TICKETS! PEOPLE DIDN’T PAY TO SEE ME ACT OUT FUCKING SOFTCORE ROMANCE NOVELS ABOUT WINNING WRESTLING TITLES, THEY PAID TO SEE ME POP PILLS AT GORILLA AND WIN ONE ANYWAY!
LOL 10K, TL; DR.
[ Jeremy ]
THE ONE THING YOU CAN’T SEEM TO DO AND IT’S THE ONLY THING YOU GOT LEFT TO TRY DOING IS TO JUST NOT SAY SHIT, SHOW UP, AND FUCK THE DUDE UP! All this fucking effort you put into not being the idiot you used to be, and you’re gonna throw it away on my fucking kid?
[ Graham ]
Okay… You almost had me on the Fight Tower, that was actually good. But dude, you still don’t fucking get it. You never have, so let me spell this out to you in terms your stoned ass may actually understand. This is me we’re talking about. The guy who basically has maybe a handful of actual anchors in his life, right? What would you do if someone decided that all because they didn’t get their little way…like a punk bitch that you weren’t around to spank him for…was going to pretty much make sure one of those anchors were ripped from the ground and never to be replaced, huh? What if it was the most important one? That’s what your son did when he decided he was going to try to crush my husband’s skull in-between a bathroom stall door. This is beyond some wrestling match at this point, Jeremy. Your son tried to kill a part of my soul last week, and you know damn good and well the Clauson line doesn’t play “Eye for Eye” - we end people who think that’s acceptable. I once would’ve taken a bullet for your kid, but I want him to feel that same turmoil and uncertainty that he made ME feel.
Jeremy shrugs, exhaling in near exhaustion.
[ Jeremy ]
…I just don’t get it. He tried to kill a piece of you, sure. But he failed, bro. At this point, you’re letting him kill your soul. This isn’t the dude I’ve known for over a decade. You’re letting him talk you into breaking your own morals and principles. You’re letting him turn you into the person you swore you wouldn’t turn into again. If you’re so rent-free in his head, it looks like he’s decided to squat in yours. That’s the only thing I’m trying to tell you.
[ Graham ]
Oh, the person who sat back and let everyone walk all over him like I did for years? The guy who had sat there and let people take advantage of him? Hold me back every time I turned around because I wasn’t some homegrown star for them? Because they thought I was an easy target? I got done letting people do that to me, bro. Your son decided my husband was an easy target to get to me, and he was unfortunately right - he was told not to press the button. He pressed the button.
[ Jeremy ]
What about you? You are the guy who threw someone down a flight of stairs for being “too gay” on a wrestling broadcast, and that’s some shit for you. And you’re also the guy who threw me off a stage while my legs were in atrophy, and I was in a wheelchair my damn self because he thought my little sister would give him a World title match.
Graham chuckles.
[ Graham ]
Would it be inappropriate if I said “Thug Life”?
[ Jeremy ]
It is what it is, man. But if you haven’t figured out that we work alongside some really shitty people in this business, and if you can’t figure out how to deal with shitty people without turning into a shitty person yourself, then I don’t know if I’ve anything to say to get through to you. And that scares me.
[ Graham ]
This isn’t business! This is fucking personal! That whole staircase bit was a damn work, camera tricks and a crash pad! And if that were true, why the hell am I friends with Todrick today after that? Your son concussing my husband wasn’t some fucking work!
[ Jeremy ]
Dude, all of life is a fucking work. We’re just not always smartened up.
[ Graham ]
Okay, let’s sum this up. You’re saying that the way that I’m defending my husband is inappropriate. But, yet this is coming from the guy who got arrested for trying to fly to someone’s house with a rifle over a Twitter argument, broke a 62-year-old man’s nose because he dropped a cinder block on Darren Hughes’ knee, broke another grown man’s arm using a Nintendo 64 controller like a whip in front of his own child, had a phony match with Ariel for a title just to set Malicia Savage up to get shoot beaten down two-on-one because she shoot dissed you for smoking weed on television, crashed a press conference because your boss hired Caleb Houston, Tweeted out every day for five years to Chris Callum “LET’S GO CHAMP”, set up a false hallway to make Project: Revolution concuss himself running into a brick wall, puked on Cayle Murray during a match after taking bootleg black market quaaludes in the back, the already mentioned shit with British, you faked your fucking death…
[ Jeremy ]
Hey, I DID NOT fake shit. I had no fucking idea I was gonna go to bed with a terminal disease and wake up in full remission two years later. And to be honest with you, I still haven’t figured out who the hell was responsible for that. But the rest of that shit, I did every bit of it and I admit to it. If I don’t admit to it, I can’t be better than it. You feel me?
[ Graham ]
NO! YOU DON’T FEEL ME! You’re the last fucking person to be trying to tell me what to do when you’re worse than both of us combined! If the shoe was on your foot, you think you wouldn’t be doing exactly what I’m doing? Madman?
Oh shit, that there’s some “Worldstar” words…
[ Jeremy ]
Suck a dick, ho.
[ Graham ]
Where?
[ Jeremy ]
There’s one you left at home to go and stalk some drunk jealous bastard, maybe you need to quit running your dickbeater and actually put it in your mouth.
[ Graham ]
The drunk jealous bastard’s the one who decided he was going to live in the same city as me, thinking he’s going to attack my family, and think he’s going to be safe anywhere he goes in it? Oh, Hell no! He’s lucky I haven’t left him lying in a Popeye’s parking lot. Easy to make it look like he got shivved for a sandwich.
[ Jeremy ]
Nobody’s shanking anybody for a damn Popeye’s sandwich, that was over a year ago! Get over yourself, stop doing dumb shit, beat my son’s ass in a month, and come home and see your husband! The dude is in major pain, he’s been upset for the last week that you’ve been out doing stupid shit, and I had to spend $140 on lean to get him to actually get some sleep!
Speaking of, you may want to go check on Ken?
[ Graham ]
You can take equal share from the green stash as payment.
Tossing his cigarette down, Jeremy rushes back into the house. As he continues, he makes it into the kitchen, but he hasn’t made it fully back into the Living Room quite yet.
[ Jeremy ]
It’s not about the fucking money, Graham! I get why you’re doing it, but you’re eventually going to have to come and deal with the fact one of those anchors is damaged - you can’t expect the rest of us to do it for you! Not this time! I literally just got out of recovery from three surgeries not even six months ago. My kid’s a drunk self centered asshole, my grandson is too busy learning how to edit his own YouTube uploads…
[ Graham ]
You just gave me a great idea.
Jeremy stops briefly in his tracks, just short of the actual living room itself.
[ Jeremy ]
…what? Skillshare? That’s what I bought Lil’ Man…
[ Graham ]
Call you back.
[ Jeremy ]
…they should have courses on cutting promos, maybe then yours wouldn’t sound more awkward than Marjorie Taylor Greene reading a Maya Angelou poem…
[ Graham ]
Bitch, still I rise!
Beep-beep-beep.
[ Jeremy ]
Hello?
Jeremy holds the phone out from his head, staring at it. He tries shaking it, but he has been hung up upon.
[ Jeremy ]
Motherfucker trying to ruin my buzz…
[ Rachel ]
Ruin your buzz?
Looking around the room, Jeremy freezes.
[ Ken ]
You didn’t have to stick up for me, but thank you. I know he’s beyond upset, but I’m not some helpless damsel in distress to be avenged or anything… I know how overprotective he can get about me, and it’s not that it isn’t mutual…
[ Rachel ]
No… But, like the runt pitbull, you also weren’t going to stop even knowing the dude was double your size.
Ken looks at Rachel, his head slightly cocked to the right.
[ Ken ]
I was only going to try to subdue him and try to calm him down. But, yeah, he overpowered me and I wasn’t going to just give in to someone trying to essentially bully me. And I’m paying for it tenfold.
[ Jeremy ]
Don’t sweat it, don’t even worry about it. We’re where we are at now, we have to figure it out. I hate having to get like that with him, but I’m the one who’s got the most experience at it. I need another brownie.
Look at Jeremy being the adult in the situation for once. Go you! Jeremy moves towards the kitchen, where the tray of brownies has shrunk by half at this point. Rachel stands up and follows him into the kitchen, with the camera switching back to the “Kitchen B” camera.
[ Rachel ]
All these years and I'm still shocked you know how to cook anything, yet alone it be good.
[ Jeremy ]
Wait…you ate one too Rachel? Oh shit, rocket ship.
[ Rachel ]
I had a couple. They were really good. What was that? Vanilla?
[ Jeremy ]
Good taste buds! About a half a teaspoon of concentrated Mexican vanilla, I also added a cup of liquid codeine.
Now it’s Rachel’s turn to freeze, as Jeremy eats another brownie.
[ Rachel ]
You WHAT?
[ Jeremy ]
Yeah. Thought he could use the pain relief.
[ Rachel ]
How much is a cup?
Jeremy holds up a 20oz Styrofoam cup that was sitting on the counter.
[ Jeremy ]
However much was in here. I don't know. I got a good deal on it….I think dude was having a "about to get raided so all my shit is 90% off" sale.
[ Rachel ]
How long before it kicks in?!
[ Jeremy ]
No idea. Never tried baking it before. If I had to guess, I'd say probably when you least expect it.
[ Rachel ]
Is Ken sitting or at least laying down?!
From the other room, Ken can be heard yelling into the kitchen.
[ Ken ]
Damn, that chocolate must have been a cure or something!
In walks Ken, who’s appearing to not suffer from any major pains at the moment.
[ Ken ]
That, or you put something in this.
[ Rachel ]
Ken, you may want to go sit back down at minimum…
[ Ken ]
Why? Did that bald fucker lace the brownies?
[ Jeremy ]
No, I didn't have a good bag for piping the icing…you’re also bald, so maybe YOU laced the brownies…
Ken stretches his arms upwards and begins to yawn. The camera swaps to “Kitchen A” this time, only apparently to catch another angle of what is about to happen.
[ Ken ]
With what? And why is the room spinning, but I don’t feel like I’m going to…
And at that moment, Ken slumps against the doorframe, turning to where is back is against it. He is slowly sliding down the frame - eyes still open, appearing to still be lucid as he ends up slumping down right onto his ass.
[ Ken ]
Sit on the floor, I guess?
Rachel, although concerned, does find this response humorous as she lets out a wheezing laugh. She begins walking over to Ken, who begins to try to stand up but appears more ready to slump over onto the floor more than anything.
[ Rachel ]
You still got enough in you to help me get him into bed?
[ Ken ]
What in the Hell did you do to those brownies, Jeremy? Did you fucking GHB me or something?
Jeremy walks over, kneeling down to help Rachel bring Ken back up to a standing base - one arm draped over their shoulders as they help him back up to standing.
[ Jeremy ]
No, you would like that too much. You did say get you something for the pain, though, you just had no clue I had already done it.
At this point, Jeremy and Rachel have already began nearly carrying Ken into the bedroom - not even letting him walk so he can’t drop to the floor again. The camera changes between “Downstairs Hallway A” and “Master Bedroom”. Although gently, they essentially drop Ken onto the mattress.
[ Ken ]
Asshole… Thank you.
[ Jeremy ]
Sleep easy. I'll bring you a towel, some water and turn on a Shakewell playlist.
[ Ken ]
Just make sure to check on me in an hour and make sure I’m not dead.
[ Jeremy ]
Do you sleep on your back? If not then you'll be fine.
[ Ken ]
No, but I think I’m going to be… I seriously don’t think I want to even move…
[ Jeremy ]
I got you fam.
Jeremy kneels down, reaching underneath Graham and Ken’s bed, to pull out a large plastic storage container that says “All of Jay’s Belts He Didn’t Want”, and another that says “All of Graham’s Belts He Doesn’t Want” - Graham’s container being completely empty. He picks up the container intended for Graham with one hand and puts it on the bed on one side of Ken. He then goes to pick up the other container, appearing to legitimately struggle to pick that container up, before it hits the bed with a slight bounce. After this, Jeremy sets the containers into a specific position while rolling Ken onto his side and wedging him in between them at waist level. Ken’s not even fighting this off, he appears almost ready to drift into sleep.
[ Ken ]
I feel like I’m in a taco holder…
Jeremy walks over to shut the door, only for Ken to roll forward onto his stomach - causing the empty “All of Graham’s Belts He Doesn’t Want” container to tumble onto the floor. Jeremy shakes his head with a chuckle as he shuts the door, looking right at the security camera that he knows is mounted in Ken and Graham’s bedroom…
[ Jeremy ]
That’s because you only have one belt to speak of…
Who’s that fourth wall breakin’ son of a bitch? It was Cun-diff all a-long! And why is he softly witch cackling?
[ Ken ]
Shut up and let me sleep.
== JULY 3, 2022 ==
== 12:51 PM ==
A label of “Lil’ Man’s Bedroom” affixed at the top left. From this camera viewpoint, we can see essentially all of his bedroom facing towards the entry door, including his computer desk setup. The kid has a nice kit, he could easily stream professionally with this. Also, on the door, we see a poster that says, “This footage is sponsored by RAID: Shadow Legends”. We hear a ringing come from the computer, with what appears to be a Facetime call notice. Lil’ Man picks up what appears to be an iPad.
[ Graham ]
‘Sup, JK?
Before Lil’ Man can spin his iPad’s front camera to face him, it catches him on a laptop….at a YouTube upload video page?
[ Lil’ Man ]
Uncle Ass-whole, what’s a meta tag?
[ Graham ]
Are you quizzing me, or are you asking me?
[ Lil’ Man ]
I dunno…
As this happens, Lil’ Man appears to switch the call back over to the laptop, prompting the first appearance of Graham this entire time. He appears to be sitting in his car, tired and maybe needing a shower.
[ Graham ]
Well, let’s just cut to the chase, because I have to make moves here. You know that GoPro that I took away from you for a month because you misused it?
[ Lil’ Man ]
I ain’t done nothin’ else! I swear!
Graham stops before he replies, clearly disappointed as he raises his eyebrow.
[ Graham ]
J.K.… You’re Grandpa Jay’s grandson, I know you’re still using it for things you shouldn’t be. You’re just not getting caught.
Graham looks up away from the camera, almost looking as if he’s second-guessing what he’s about to do before he looks back.
[ Graham ]
I can’t believe I’m about to enter illicit negotiations with my own godson, but here goes. JK, I promise you won’t get into any trouble…but I need to see all of your videos.
[ Lil’ Man ]
I can just send you the channel link, that should do it.
[ Graham ]
No, JK… ALL of them. Not just the ones you have posted. I need the original source material.
Lil’ Man sits back, folding his hands like Baby Ross Perot.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Well, I reckon you need ‘em for somethin’ important?
[ Graham ]
Well, yeah… Your Dad.
The young man is a firm negotiator. He understands why Graham and Ross are fighting, but he doesn’t understand "WHY-why".
[ Lil’ Man ]
You’re askin’ an awful lot, Uncle Ass-whole.
[ Graham ]
Let me put it to you this way. How did you feel when you saw your Dad slam Uncle Ken’s head in on television?
[ Lil’ Man ]
Grandpa let me say “GOD DAMN SON!”
[ Graham ]
Okay… But that’s not how you felt, that’s something you got away with because of it. How did seeing that make you feel about your father?
[ Lil’ Man ]
Like Dad was a big ole’ bully!
Graham smiles, almost getting a Disney-like villainesque glimmer in his eye.
[ Graham ]
Okay. So, let’s add another layer. So, your Dad is bullying Uncle Ken. But, do you know why he is bullying Uncle Ken?
[ Lil’ Man ]
Because he can’t drink as much as my dad?
[ Graham ]
No, that is something else, but that’s for when you are older. The reason why your Dad did that to Uncle Ken is because he wants to get back at Uncle Ass-whole for trying to look out for him. As well as you, by extension. Remember when your Dad and Chelsea split up?
[ Lil’ Man ]
Yeah, I remember Dad being really mad and saying ‘homies over hoes’ all the time.
Graham chuckles, knowing what the inference of “Homies Over Hoes” really is.
[ Graham ]
Well, remember how he started drinking a lot more than he was? And how he was always yelling and being…well, just mean towards everyone? Well, I wasn’t going to put up with that, and I was supposed to be your Dad’s tag team partner. I didn’t feel safe having your Dad in the ring, so I told him to go home and focus on you for a bit. Instead, he waited six months and tried to kill Uncle Ken because of it. I didn’t tell him I didn’t want to be his tag team partner; I just told him to take some time because he was really hurt by Chelsea and was taking it out on everyone else. Like he always does…
[ Lil’ Man ]
But you wanna do the same thing to Dad you done got mad at me for doing to you!
[ Graham ]
That was different! You walked in on pretty much everyone while they were gettin’ busy, you lil’ sex offender!
[ Lil’ Man ]
What the cotton-picking mother heck is that supposed to reckon?
[ Graham ]
You’re too young for that shit!
[ Lil’ Man ]
And you're too old for this shit!
Graham clearly heard this and took this personally. He takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes, exhaling slowly before opening his eyes and looking right back at Lil’ Man through the camera.
[ Graham ]
I don’t know how the fuck you got so smart for your age, but you know you would’ve gotten rag-dolled already for that.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Yay! Skyrim physics!
[ Graham ]
Okay…look… I know what I’m doing may be a bit…hypocritical…
[ Lil’ Man ]
Ya reckon?!
I like this kid… Too smart for his age, but he knows how to hit ‘em.
[ Graham ]
How in the hell am I getting told off by a five-year-old? Shit, look… You know that what I’m doing is wrong, I know what I’m doing is wrong. But, if your Dad can attack my husband because I didn’t want to play with him on the playground and that’s okay, then what I’m doing isn’t wrong. It’s called payback, and sometimes paybacks will result in some very wrong things happening. But I’m also not asking you to go find your Dad’s pistol I’m sure is hiding between his mattress and box springs still and go pop one in his head for me.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Dad has a gun?!
[ Graham ]
No! No, he doesn't! Forget I said anything! But you also know that he shouldn’t have even put a fingerprint on even a shoulder hair on Ken. Your Dad signed a bill he couldn’t pay for with that. All I’m asking for is for you to help me by giving me anything else you have on your Dad hidden somewhere. He doesn’t deserve to feel safe after he decided that our favorite person needed to have his head caved in, and you can’t say you disagree! I know for a fact that all I got was the SD card you had in that damn camera, but who knows what else you kept hidden.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Are you too old to know how to use Megaupload?
[ Graham ]
Son, you speak old magic to me of which I was there when it was written.
[ Lil’ Man ]
I'm sending it to you.
After the sounds of a few key presses, and a couple clicks, Graham feels a vibration on his phone to signal an incoming message. As he sees the notification, we see a slight wheeze of amusement before he responds.
[ Graham ]
….why do I have a new message request from "dickfloss2017"?
[ Lil’ Man ]
…do I have to spell it out for you, or are you dumber than a dried cowpie?
[ Graham ]
Please don't send me the footage of your grandpa pulling a kidney stone out of his penis with a fishing line, or something like that…
[ Lil’ Man ]
THERE'S FOOTAGE? MY FANS HAVE BEEN ASKING FOR IT ON PATREON!
[ Graham ]
NO! NO, THERE IS NOT! FORGET I SAID ANYTHING! AND HOW DOES A FIVE-YEAR-OLD HAVE A PATREON?!
[ Lil’ Man ]
Grandma's bank still thinks she's not dead…thanks to my friends over at HackYourShit.ru!
[ Graham ]
And I’m worried about catching a charge, yet here is my Godson committing bank fraud so he can become fucking Twitch famous… For fuck’s sake, send every bit of the damn footage on your father, and you and I are going to be having a long conversation with Ken about your antics when he doesn’t black out chasing you throughout the entire house and yard to kill you.
[ Lil’ Man ]
I done did! All 518.2 gigger-bytes!
[ Graham ]
…you have half a fucking terabyte on your Dad?!
[ Lil’ Man ]
Oh, naw, you asked for it all! I gave you all of it! I hope y’all ain’t too busy for about a month and a half…
[ Graham ]
I’ll pay you $200 to look at your own file tags and sort them out, I’m sure you’re smart enough to know what each file has in it.
Lil’ Man sits back, folding his hands like Baby Ross Perot.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Well, can I finish?
[ Graham ]
And I’ll buy you a better graphics card once one isn’t getting ganked for Crypto-farming.
Lil’ Man turns to yell out his bedroom door.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Grandpa! I’m gonna need a lot of Pop-Tarts!
[ Graham ]
Shit, I forgot you’re in your room upstairs at my place! Don’t tell your Grandpa I called you, he’ll know exactly what I’m doing and he’s not liking it already.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Never mind! I’ll come get them!
[ Graham ]
Don’t get crumbs on your keyboard! Also…
[ Lil’ Man ]
Yeah?
As Lil’ Man returns to look at the camera, Graham appears to look away for a second.
[ Graham ]
Your Grandpa made a good point earlier… Uncle Ass-whole has been an asshole lately.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Duh.
Graham sits back, folding his hands like Butch Ross Perot and returns in Ross Perot’s vernacular himself.
[ Graham ]
Can I finish?
Well played, Mr. Clauson. Well played.
[ Graham ]
As much as I’m pissed, he was right. I’ve got to save face or this is going to get much worse than any of us want… But I need to get what I need so I make sure your Dad understands the weight of what he’s done. I’ll be home a little later, but have you overheard anything involving your Uncle having cravings for any place good? May as well use his stomach to my advantage here and bring home dinner. It’s bad enough they’ve been helping keep Uncle Ken from smashing his head into a table and I’ve left them there…
[ Lil’ Man ]
I don’t know what he wants, but I’ll take Arby’s.
[ Graham ]
You’re too young for Arby’s, you don’t really know what it stands for and it’s disgusting.
For those of you who don’t know, it stands for “American Roast Beef Yes Sir” …and we know you’re thinking “Mickie James”. You sick fuck.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Fine. Hooters.
[ Graham ]
Fuck it, I’ll think of something. I should’ve remembered your Dad thinks BW3’s is a food group.
[ Lil’ Man ]
ASIAN ZINGY WINGS!
[ Graham ]
However, your Dad won’t be making those decisions soon enough anyway…
[ Lil’ Man ]
Why, you gonna hurt him?
[ Graham ]
Just enough… Just…enough… By the way, you may not want to get too attached to Sbarro’s.
Beep-beep-beep. The call abruptly ends, Lil’ Man sitting in his seat for a moment before he stands up. Suddenly, he no longer speaks with a southern drawl… He sounds like a kid from the Vermont/New Hampshire region.
[ Lil’ Man ]
Dammit! I knew the bearded bastard was going to ruin a good thing for me…