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Three’s a Crowd

Three’s a Crowd

Threesomes: Every man’s dream, right?

Personally, I think three’s a crowd, especially with two dudes. Let me tell you why.

It starts off all peachy. Everyone knows why they’re there and what’s on the table. We’re all after the same prize:

Getting off.

But these boys with their egos, they turn it into some kind of fuck-off. They forget that we’re a team working together for a common goal. Instead, they try to thrust through me like I’m not even there. I become a prop to them, used to show who “the man” is.

It’s all friendly to them, some rite of passage.

But what about me?

All I can do is wait for the best moment I can, trying to wait until these knuckleheads have worn themselves out. I don’t need em, you know?

I can take care of myself.

Which is what I did at Ring of Dreams, isn’t it?

Luke and Xavier partnered up with me like we were going to do big things. We put our eyes on the prize of ruling OSW. Of taking all the gold, and kicking all the asses.

But three’s a crowd.

We demolished the roster. Completely. We fucked everybody.

But Mister Motherfucker and the Big fucking Deal forgot that there was a third in the equation. Luke got so obsessed with Simon that he only wanted to use me to get to him. Zero ended up the same way, but only after he got his.

He was “the man,” and then he might worry about someone else.

But the only rite of passage he undertook was going from motherfucker to motherfucked.

Because I wanted for my moment, didn’t I? I took the beatings from everyone, but I made sure to pick my spots.

And when Little Z had finally worn his cybernetic ass out: that was my moment, my rite of passage.

Because I never needed them. Either of them. All I ever needed was a moment to take care of myself, and at Ring of Dreams I got it.

I took the prize. I got off in the biggest of ways when that gold was wrapped around my waist. No longer a prop, the world could only stare in awe at Pyre as she went home to a real man with the prize that eluded your sorry asses.

I got mine, Z, sorry it was at your expense. Luke, you could have been a contender, but instead you’re going back to the Razzies.

Because the two of you so-called Bad Mother Fuckers? You were left like every other guy who forgot that the point of a threesome was to get off.

Stroking limp dicks across from each other while trying to figure out where your bitch went.

Sorry boys, this bad bitch came and went.

Wish I could say the same for you.