Post by Cartier on Apr 24, 2021 19:40:26 GMT -5
Tuesday - Nighttime in Brooklyn.
People have taken to the streets, finding ways to congregate and dance and party without having the usual accoutrements of a nightclub as they normally might during non-pandemic times.
On the sidewalks, handfuls of people crouch with stereos or with dice or dominoes. They drink from red solo cups, mixing together concoctions of gin or cognac, sometimes involving codeine.
It’s like something out of a Spike Lee movie, honestly, or a 1990s “block party” style Puff Daddy music video.
Cartier is there, and she’s apparently decided to leave the haunted totems and cursed totems back on her bedroom self, because she seems a lot more like her old self here in this element. She’s walking from area to area in her fluffy cheetah print house slippers, handing out drinks and taking puffs on spliffs as they get passed around.
“Get it girl!”
One of the other females at the block party shouts to her as Carty gets a little low along with couple of other neighborhood ratchets. Normally she’d be just as likely to throw hand and pull weave off of these bitches, but a party is a party and it’s a good time for all.
As the sun sets overhead, Cartier finds things dispersing a bit and she ends up sticking around one particular area that looks like its got enough steam to make it later into the night. There’s a speaker with an aux cable plugged into someone’s phone, and the beats are flowing as well as the Hen. She gets to feeling good. Feeling comfortable. It’s a welcome break from all the working out and preparing she’s been up to recently.
“Bitch we ain’t seen your face in a while, what’s good?”
A man with golds in his mouth smiles wide and hugs Cartier, being careful not to spill either of their cups.
“Quincy shut the fuck up you know I’m always down… but I’m workin’ hard, too. You know. Always on that hustle. I got a match wit’ a new partner in Union Battleground, tha talent level there is through the fuckin’ roof so I been takin’ shit more serious. We talkin’ about the top of the top, Quince, an’ this tag team shit’s gonna be one of the toughest I ever been in.”
“What, you? Tag team royalty Cartier? Come on…”
“Nah, I’m on that level but I don’t even know about this partner I got. He a fuckin’ Huxtable. They tagged me up wit’ Tapp “Carlton Banks” Addams. He a talented kid but I don’t know if he’s ready for these people. American Tommy’s in this shit, and that right there is a big enough concern. Tommy’s one of the best. I ain’t worried about me, but I’m worried Tapp out of his depth.”
“He smoke weed? Call him up, let’s put some street into Urkel before he goes out there an’ embarrasses the Queen of Brooklyn on live TV.”
“Weed? Shit, I don’t think Tapp even stays up after nine at night.”
“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…”
The party continues. Occasionally an NYPD cruiser drifts slowly by, checking the scene, but luckily, none of them stop in for a visit. Cartier loosens up more and more, finding herself in the middle of the street dancing.
Cartier twerks her championship ass to the applause and adoration of the young black men in attendance, with a few receiving sideways looks from their babies’ mothers. But, again, a party is a party, and cooler minds keep prevailing. For once, it’s all good times.
Someone plays the old Silento song “Watch Me” and Cartier cackles, hitting the Whip and the Nae Nae in perfect precision along with several other neighborhood girls. Right when she hits the Stanky Leg, she’s startled by an arriving Tapp - who seems to walk up to her from out of nowhere, as if he simply materialized.
“Cartier, you’re supposed to be in training, not m out here Hitting the Whip Whip and doing the Nae.”
“What the fuck Tapp where you came from?”
She walks up to him confrontationally, getting into his face.
“How you even knew I was home? I got personal appearances an’ shit all the time, plus matches all over the country. You ain’t called or texted, what was you gonna do break into my house?”
“Don’t be stupid. You shared your location with me when I requested it last week. Why do you think I wanted it? I need to make sure you’re following the training program I emailed you down to the very last detail. This is a B Day, didn’t you check the Training schedule?”
“B Day my ass! It’s 4-20! I got a text from Brennan that said Weed Football an’ then I put my shit on silent. I only accepted that location shit by accident last week because I thought the link was a dick pic. I was curious.”
“Cartier…”
Tapp’s voice gets quieter.
“Why would I send you a picture of my penis? This is business. Can’t you be serious for a moment!”
Cartier laughs out loud, placing her hands on Tapp’s shoulders to keep herself from literally falling over.
“Tapp why the fuck your voice got all high pitched when you said penis? You sound like Michael Jackson on the witness stand!”
“Cartier!”
She keeps laughing. Tapp is becoming visibly annoyed by his tag partner’s lack of seriousness, which of course just makes Cartier laugh even harder. It’s a vicious cycle.
“Yo, this the Lightskin you was talmbout?”
Quincy, the man Cartier was speaking to earlier, heads over with a hand up to greet Tapp. Tapp doesn’t respond to the attempted high five, and in fact doesn’t even give Quincy direct eye contact.
“Cartier, let’s go. I brought my gear.”
Tapp shrugs the small duffel on his shoulder.
“We can hit your usual spot and work on some timing drills. Some signals. We need to be razor sharp in the ring against these people.”
“I ain’t goin’ anywhere Tapp I been workin’ my ass off all week, I need a day to unwind too. Shit’s good for you, you should try it.”
Cartier reaches out, handing Tapp a solo cup with a purplish liquid inside.
“Disgusting. We need to go, come on.”
Tapp grabs Cartier’s upper arm, and she screeches.
“What the FUCK Tapp, I said no!”
“Yo, get your hand off her, Token.”
Quincy shoves Tapp, and Tapp swiftly twists Quincy’s wrist into a painful position, adding pressure until the taller man is down on one knee grimacing in pain.
“Tapp! Let his ass go! Come on!”
Quincy grits his teeth but when he tries to fight back, Tapp swings a leg over his shoulder and hyperextends the man’s arm. Quincy screams.
“God dammit Tapp! The fuckin’ cops!”
Red and blues start to swirl in the air and dozens of people from the party disperse, running off between buildings and hopping fences. Tapp lets go of Quincy as officers start to walk near, with the safety straps of their holsters opened.
“Let’s go Tapp you fuckin’ moron we gotta run.”
“Cartier, I’ll talk to the officers. It’s a clear case of self defense and I’m no criminal, I don’t run from the police.”
Quincy cradles his arm and stares daggers into Tapp as he gets up and runs away.
“I guess I can’t say the same for your friends…”
“Tapp, don’t be a R-Word. You can’t talk to Twelve, you’ll end up a hashtag after they kneel on you for ten minutes.”
“Absurd. Excuse me! Officer! Officer, over here!”
Tapp walks toward the oncoming cops with a smile and a wave, even as several of the arriving NYPD officers pull their tasers out.
“Tapp cut the shit! Tapp! TAPP!”
Cartier screams to him, but he keeps walking…
“I get it.”
“I get the criticisms. I get the laughter.”
“I talked big an’ I lost. Ain’t the first time an’ it sure as hell won’t be the last. That’s the game. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes it ain’t your night. Long as I get the respect from my performance an’ from my opponent, we good. I give what I expect to receive, so all the props an’ all the respect in the world to Anna Daniels. She took it to me an’ she walked out wit’ the W. Fair and square, she won.”
“But man…”
“It’s a tough one to swallow, I can’t lie. The debut is special. It’s a time for a statement. I gotta hand it to Union though, they throw you right in the fire. I like that. This was no warm up match, this was a worthy-ass challenge that at another time or another place you might see in a main event. I knew that comin’ in, an’ I spent weeks preppin’ my mind an’ my body for a hell of a war. An’ a hell of a war is what happened… then it occurred to me. What was missin’ from all that prep an’ all that hard work. Long hours in the ring, long hours in the gym, diets, fasts, all that… I knew my body was ready but my mind wasn’t right. I needed to re-focus. Re-center. I made some changes an’ some adjustments. I walked away from Revo for now because it served its purpose, an’ right away I ended up winnin’ the Television Title in Mainstream. Took it off American Tommy’s best known tag partner Manny Fernandez. I’m confident I’m ready now for Tommy an’ Zack. Indi an’ Moxie. These people, they got game. Any one of ‘em can win on any given day, but me, I gotta make sure that next Sunday down in Virginia ain’t their day - it’s gotta belong to me. Well, me an’ Tapp.”
“No secret that me an’ Tapp butt heads online. But on May 2nd? It’s a team. I know a thing or two about teamwork. So forget about the past, just be ready for the Norfolk Scope. We comin’ to Tapp That Ass.”