Week 6 - TITLE MATCH - Mr. J (4-1) vs. Vividlyvague (4-1) - Mr. J WINS BY DQ

[Mike Wrecka]

http://i.imgur.com/uAJesXX.png
Season 2

Rules

Verse Due Date - Thursday 23:59 PST

Voting Deadline - Sunday 23:59 PST

Line Limits - 16 - 48 Max can be higher if both agree

Voting - Must vote on 3 battles and post voting links in this thread, preferably all in one post.

If you don't vote on 3 battle you will be given a loss. If you lose by votes and don't vote on other battles you receive a one week suspension.


Topic :** You must use this quote as the last line of your verse.**

"Some stories don't get to have happy endings."




Good Luck Mr. J Vividlyvague

[Mr. J]

Bound to...a seat that I rarely hold ground to
dialect that infects my mind until I come around...
too much on my mind to focus...the room is sound proof
yet echo's loud enough to leave a whole crowd spooked
alone...the feeling will always be far from mutual
far from what you're used to, but I'm committed and useful
forgotten, my biggest achievement is what I give ridicule to
disputed, proof in the puddin', prepare to get a new spoon
get the new scoop and it's possible we see the same substance
share the same ear if the thought could retain abruptness
no more interruptions..
for those tortured the same, know freedom remains abundant
one lock away from escaping the shackles I came cuffed with
dancing to my own theories, creating my own melody
consumed by these hidden voices and what they keep telling me
I act selfishly so in the end their suggestions aren't helping me
that's when I realized how swell it would be...
if you sat in this cell with me & discussed your disgust so eloquently
my...perfect reliance, a partner in crime in the most uncertain of crisis
a visual learner, a worker of the same degree in this perfect silence
someone real, a compassionate counterpart to unnerve my sense
the one retrieving the thoughts behind the curtain..blinded
hidden from view, askew, and parallel to truth
we welcome the future and wave farewell to youth
where the reckless strive and the careless dispute
a reflection of oneself most are too embarrassed to view
only if you understood what I'm sharing with you
carry this burden and I swear..I am forever in debt
an opportunity, if you will, one you'll never regret
a learning experience to the story that never will end
something to cherish forever as we grow better as friends
creating a vendetta to those who only treasure the trend
the plot thickens, and we use any gesture to offend
because at the end of the day this is our immeasurable defense...
especially when placed in this seat, actions remain critiqued
our decisions are our own and we never aim to please
battling these old concepts recreated with adjacent themes...
lacking progress...yet see a way to easily gain release...
it's abominable...ridiculous...and far from new...
do you agree? If you do, then this is the job for you
Critics unite, rejoice in the moment we are apprehending
whether the truth is there or further off than what's transcending
because some movies deserve love...
and.. some stories don't get to have happy endings

[e11even]

The delicate balance of life rests on but a few variables-
from conception to burial, gated residences to barrios.
What makes us US? What does it take to undo this?
One usually won't know short of what would push us through it...

Sara, 29- working mother of two. Married happily.
New varied stacks cuz the Mr.'s backed by contractor salary.
She's on that day off.
Mark, 32- humps with the battery.
Finds a civilian life beside the military to be flattering.

Davis, 40- Mavis Beacon-supported, no jobs rewarded him.
Jousting his boardem with three on-board for licks, casually joining in.
Mom's worn Oldsmobile... materials torn in it- a hero was born within...
Jason, his older bro, comatose- since those Iraqi mortars took most his limbs...

The kids are home again... James and Carla- from the neighbor's gala.
Sara, the sleuth, attained a harbored refrain from both. Trained, she barks up,
"I smell weed!!! Who's retarded enough to abuse our 'behaved teen' charter?!?!"

"MOM!!! The neighbors use!!! We almost caught contact like Jodie Foster! offered- but we departed. It's True!"
"Kids." Sara said, reflecting on her memories of eighths and shrooms...

BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!

There's a knock at the door... breaking the concentration from her making stew.
Sara, chopping the veggies, sets the crock pot to warm, and lets the apron loose...

The door slowly opens before him, a warm light shown
as if greeting salvation and fortune to its face. This time's his alone.

"Hey darling... I couldn't wait to see you..." Mark said, in stark contrast to his battered appearance.
She gasps, hands over her mouth, praying they mask what she's fearing...
There's a click... her eyes widen... the following sound from the blast uncaps all her feelings.

KOOOWWW!!!!! Pink spatter hits Sara's face and chest as she rejects reasoning.
Her brain partially shuts down, hardly seeing anything except the exit wound... the awe deepening.

Davis lets Mark's limp carcass collapse into the house, his head spurts.
The four man mob let's lead work, shots into the ceiling, the bitch's leg jerked.
In and out... simple drill... you got this shit. Pretense against noviceship lied in dominance.
They scour the closets and cabinets for signs of prominence... against the clock, something's gotta give.
"Where the fuck is the safe??" Davis yells... only making himself look irritated, this aim a flop.
"Ayo, D... where the bitch at?" said one homie, pointing at her former spot...
"Find her, Ock!!!! Am I supposed to get that twat AND search BY MYSELF with this glock?!"
"Nahhh...we got you..." says another gun with hungry eyes, hoping the pussy was his if he had the drop.

Sara makes it upstairs trembling in disbelief, sensing squeaks...
End of the hall floor, she uncracks the door, James and Carla in one pissing piece.
Holes in the floor at Carla's feet where the thugs popped off... still a sizzling stink...
You hurt my family, I'll destroy yours... "You guys been missing me?"
They smile. "Go get em, Mom. Make all those punk bitches bleed!" Grins Carla.
"Show them what happens when an agent gets presented venison meat!" James said in a soft hum.
She inched in exit, body of fear headless, heart beat like a drum.

"Fuck that ho, split up!" Davis instructed, opening cupboards, ripping out buckets...
They spread thin, in different rooms, too distant for hushes... THUD!!!!
Davis backtracks into a bathroom... "What the fuck?!!?!?!" A throatslit ally dumped in the tub.
WHAM- SWASHHH!!!! He runs gun first into the dining hall... chandelier on top of a homie's body, sprawled. "FUCK!!!!!!"
A hand creeps up his torso and palm strikes his chin, he's reeling...
Sight on the ceiling, a swift stomach kick drilling him quick, repeats of punches to his kidneys...
"OKAY!!!! STOP!!!! FUCK!!!! I QUIT, BITCH!!!!!! Who are you?!" He yelped quickly...
"I'm an FBI Special Agent, Real name's Tiffany, and you killed Mark, my mark- so simply
put, your motherfucking life is ENDING!!!! You get me?" Blood seeps from his tongue and she's grinning.

"So now what?" Says a voice behind her as a CLICK reminds her, she missed one.
"You die..." She spins, dips, flips the firearm hand up, knuckles his throat, then kicks his dick with a higher
level of aggression than an offended horse hitting its rider. While he moans, she grabs his wrist, grips it like pliers,
and whips it back in the direction from which it'd be fired. He's shocked. "My aim is way tighter!!!"
She makes him pull the trigger.... KOOOWWWWWW! his scatter brained appearance proves he's permenantly retired.

"My bro knew your husband... he served in the same contracting firm.... he hadta learn."
"Oh, so he got what he fucking deserved!!!" Gun in hand, safety off, she was done sounding reserved.
He's weeping... she manages an expression forging concern. "He was a good man, you fucking absurd
excuse for a man. You a worm! Your brother was responsible for his own terms!!!!" CLICK.
"But we were supposed to grow together and now the dock will never get him limbs he had earned!!!!"
Sara smiles and aims. "So you robbed us to get burned. Look. Mark and I had a future too... but death is our worth.
Stop pretending." She puts him face to face with his friend's piece.

"You are a crazy fucking BITCH!!!! We could've been great!!! Nobody else fucking gets me!!!"
"Well, kid. Just ask my dead husband over there" She chuckles and crouches,"Some stories don't get to have happy endings."

KOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW!!!!