I'm so sorry for the waiting...my fucking PC's having a problem. Plus...I ran out of prepaid (I'm not really rich, you know.)

Here's Chapter 8! Enjoy its lameness!

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"Thank you, Mr. Jindrak," Angle announced over the microphone. "You may now take your seat."

The stoner bowed from the podium built on the front of the school cafeteria and took his seat with the draftees lunch table. But there was no applause. Not really. There were a few nods and half-hearted shrugs, but that's about it. No hysterics. No loud cheers. Everyone was bored to death that Monday lunchtime.

"This is taking forever," Rey whispered, twiddling his fingers in his lap. "I wish we had lunch at the bleachers."

"I wished it even more," Eddie told him.

I tuned out their continuing conversation while I yawned. I leaned back in my chair, wondering if my eyes were really glazing over or if it only felt that way. Last night, Eddie both hustled me and Rey to the dormitory common room. I spilled the beans to Rey about the "welcome" that I was going to give to the new recruits, and he seemed particularly thrilled. After researching the RRC draftees one by one, it took us until midnight to study them, but later on we decided that we should meet them in person. The three of us stumbled sleepily to our rooms, completely exhausted, but when I got to bed, I slept like a little boy.

Now...I've been wrong. The lack of sleep made me feel like I was hit with a baseball bat or pretty much ran over by a truck. And then there was the evidence of the clothes I was wearing. Looking down at the outfit I had carelessly pulled out of the closet without much consideration, I shook my head. Would any sane person wear a sleeveless shirt in such an air-conditioned facility?

At least, this day didn't turn out exactly as I expected. The warm weather had suited my mood perfectly, and the first classes ran as smoothly as ever. Even Rey and Eddie complimented my outfit with the perfect amount of sincerity. In fact, they aren't the only ones who have noticed. The entire female population of SC had been drooling.

I shook off imaginary lint from my top and looked down in my outfit again. Today's trends consists of a loose black Johnson jersey, faded gray throwbacks, and my infamous character symbols; my black sunvisor, black Reeboks, and my ever present padlock chains. I drew an exasperated breath and sunk down in my chair, feeling impatient.

"I hope we are all right about those researches," Eddie said.

Rey looked like he was gonna fall off the chair any minute. "I hope this is not worth skipping lunch, J."

"Relax. I know what I'm doing," I reminded them for the nth time. "I'll find the perfect victim. And I'm telling you, Rey. If you get out of here right now, it's not even worth it."

Rey's only reply was a shrug.

I sat straighter in my chair, patting "the prize" that I stuffed in my pocket earlier. I closed my free hand to my chains. I can hardly wait.

"And now, the last but not least," Angle announced. "Rene Dupree!"

I strained my eyes and saw the final guy stand up and walk to the podium, a white poodle trotting along his side and the flag of France in his other hand.

So that was suckers look like. Bleached blond hair, uneven skin tone, and he's even overly muscular for a freshman.

I smiled inwardly. He's perfect.

"N' ayez paz peur, SC!" Dupree bellowed. "I'm the French phenom Rene Dupree!"

His voice came out unintentionally priggish, and the audience let him know it, snorting and sniggering in their tables. Dupree didn't seem to notice it as he started to ramble on his achievements in RRC. Eddie and Rey were both snickering, making fun of Dupree's French accent, while I just waited for the right time to take action. My plan's going on top speed.

"That is all. Thank you for listening, SC!" Dupree concluded. He started to wave the French flag until the whole cafeteria started the USA chant.

I stood up abruptly from the original football team's table. Now's the time.

Eddie seemed to notice my actions. "Take your time out there, holmes!"

I nodded and started to walk to the podium. My music began blaring out on the boom box as the audience began to scream their appreciation.

Word life! This the basic thuganomics...

I went in front of Dupree and grabbed a microphone myself. The French fry looked surprised as he stopped waving his flag. Angle was below the podium, beginning to get angry.

"Get your scrawny ass down there, Cena!" Angle hissed.

I smirked and pretended I didn't hear him. The crowd eventually quieted down a little. I raised one arm, motioning the whole room around me.

"Welcome to Springville!"

The whole student body cheered, showing their explicit love for school spirit. Dupree shrugged, unaware he was in trouble. I noticed Tazz and Michael Cole applauding from the journalist's lunch table at the far end of the podium.

"This is where the franchise play," I continued in my rapper's accent. "That's Tazz...he a thug..."

I pointed to Tazz, and the bald guy gave me the "what's up" signal. Then I pointed to the man next to him. "...and that's Michael Cole...he's gay."

I saw Tazz laugh, while Cole merely shook his head. I spoke up again.

"There are a few things ya need to know...I'm here to keep you prepared, bro. First, don't leave your watch and your wallet anywhere near Eddie Guerrero. Fool pickpocketed me like five times, he still owes me 50 bucks he still got my ID!"

The people laughed appreciatively at the gibe, and I noticed Eddie was cracking up as well. Eddie was known in both schools as a liar, a cheater, and a thief, but he does this for the comic relief of everybody. This is why he became so popular.

I smiled. "Anyway...this the most important thing but you'll remember this one's easy. Don't go nowhere near a bathroom after Big Show or Rikishi! They got that funk like something up and died in..."

The crowd laughed again, louder this time. Paul "Big Show" Wight and Solofa "Rikishi" Fatu. Jr. were both the largest (or should I say fattest) of the football club and they always play as defenses, and right now I could imagine both of them chopping off a lunch table here somewhere. I guess I'll have to explain to them later. Then I noticed Dupree...well...eyeing me.

"Get your eyes off my equipment, I don't care how bad you want some," I immediately said. "This chain ain't for yankin' and don't touch my Magic Johnson!"

An excited murmur swept through the whole cafeteria—the other students were apparently starting to find the exchange pretty fascinating. And up 'til now Dupree still hadn't said a word.

"Those French folk got their own thing, ya know I ain't gonna judge but that's you, you do you, I do me...you know what I'm saying?"

The confusion was starting to show on Dupree's face, mumbling something in French.

I raised my arm again, this time motioning to the audience. "I'd introduce you to these fans, but it's obvious they want none of you. They say that France sucks, plus they throwin' out the W!"

I made the W sign with my hands, causing the audience to applaud with shouts and cheers. I took my mic back to my mouth and spoke up.

"This would be a good time for you to leave, don't let the door hit you when it shuts," I said, ready to conclude. "Oh! I've got something you can do, man..."

I fished out the prize from my pocket—one of the plastic covered dildos that I bought at the mall that Saturday. I held it up for everyone to see as the audience went awestruck.

"Choke on deez' nuts!" I boomed out. Then, I threw it right on his chest.

The simmering audience erupted into a boil—howls of laughter bounced through the walls of the whole room. I gradually took my seat next to Rey and Eddie, who were both laughing and congratulating me at the same time.

"J! That was great!" Rey told me.

Eddie smiled. "Best of all pranks. You have to give it up for the master, esse."

As I watched, Dupree picked up the dildo on the podium floor, stared at it, then threw it somewhere on the audience. He walked down the podium and stormed out of the cafeteria doors, a red-faced ape. Everyone cheered, accompanied by jeers and laughter.

Until Kurt Angle took the mic.

"So much for that interruption," Angle said loudly when the hubbub died down. "I have an announcement from Principal Vince McMahon."

Everyone strained to listen.

"Now as you all know, the Springville Eagles' former General Manager Paul Heyman had decided to quit after being drafted to Red River College last week. Which leaves us to the thought: Who is the new GM of the Eagles?" Angle stated. "Luckily, Mr. McMahon had just told me that the new General Manager was someone with class. Someone who knows what to do in any kind of calamity. Someone who has manners and is well respected by everyone."

Great. Another surprise.

"Who do you think it's gonna be?" Rey whispered.

"I hope we have a girl GM this time." Eddie said.

"Angle has to spit this all out." I muttered.

"Therefore, the Springville Eagles' new General Manager is..." Angle said, pausing to scare the people.

The crowd listened in utter silence. The suspense was killing me.

"Me. Kurt Angle."

(t.b.c)