Scoops McGee had to shift in place, uncomfortable in his bandages as he subconsciously scratched away at the stitches buried underneath. The light bothered him, the rain bothered him, the sound of noise bothered him, it felt like every little sensation his eyes could pick up on had echoed into his brain for the sole purpose of trying to break it all apart.

“-Scoops!” Noah called to him, furrowing his brow as he kept the camera trained on him. “Are you alright? You’ve been out to lunch recently, I swear.”

“Just pissed off,” he grumbled. “Lost the damn tag match, got concussed, lost my goddamn social media password-”

“Social media password?” Noah had to bite back a laugh, getting out of the rickety seat in the living room he was holed up in as he sauntered forward towards Scoops. “Wait, you’re on social media?”

“That’s what they said it was called, anyway,” Scoops mumbled, itching again at his bandages. [b]“Somethin’ about a… fuckin’... a sky?”

“Blue Sky?”

“Yeah!” Scoops frowned as he pointed at Noah in realization. “Y’know, I had a WHOLE bunch of friends on there that liked my posts, and… and commented, and I had people shit-talkin’ me all the time, it was great!”

“Okay, Grandpa…” Noah jabbed lightheartedly, keeping a smile on his face as he tapped Scoops on the arm. Truth be told, it was hard to take him seriously whenever he started talking about the internet, especially with a pout like that on his face. “We’ll probably have to do something about that soo-”

KRA-KOOM!

The hotel room practically shook to its very core from the pulsating vibration of thunder off in the distance. As rain erupted from the heavens to pitter-patter against the windows, the lights quickly blinked out into darkness.

“Or… not…” An uneasy chuckle came from Noah as the camera remained on Scoops, whose hands gripped the arms of the chair he was on as-

“Motherfuckin’ sonuvaBITCH!” Scoops swore at the top of his lungs as he bolted out of his seat, opening the curtains up to expose the crying gray world in front of him. A torrential downpour was already underway, swamping the streets. “And what I’d give for a fuckin’ blue sky right about now! This shit’s been raining for days!”

“Isn’t that… normal in April?”

“That don’t make it any less annoying!” Scoops countered. “I sent Vidya Game Girl out there to go do some food shoppin’ for us, and what does it do? It rains again! For the third fuckin’ time this week! How annoying do you have to be?!”

Scoops looked back to the outside, banging on the glass of the window loudly as he hollered at the top of his lungs. “Leave us the hell alone, you piece o’ shit!”

A flash of blinding white revealed itself in the distance to respond to Scoops’ call, and immediately, the old man had to close his eyes as his headache flared. Thunder rumbled through the ground once more, making its presence known.

KRA-KOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

A loud snicker erupted from Noah as he tried to prevent himself from laughing fully at the ridiculous sight in front of him. “I think the storm hates you, Scoops.”

“No shit it does,” Scoops scoffed in response. “Wish I could just go up there and kick that stupid fuckin’ cloud’s ass…”

Noah thought on it for a minute, placing his finger to his chin as he hummed slightly. “Well… not quite the same, but there’s always at least American Storm on Warfare…”

“American fuckin’-” Scoops sputtered as he turned around to face Noah. [b]“You think it’s fate? You think God’s throwin’ all these shitty-ass storms at me, tryin’ to get me ready for this crap?”

A small moment of silence passed as Noah nervously blinked, trying to find his voice as Scoops pressed the question to him. “I, uh… I don’t think that’s how it wor-”

“That’s totally how it works!” Scoops shouted, a lightbulb practically going off above his head. “It all makes sense now! This shitty ass rain, happening every day it feels like! Just like how American Storm act like a couple o’ jackasses, coming out like zits each and every time on Warfare! And ain’t nobody gives a rat’s ass about those two little fuckers! They go out there, they get popped, again and again, and they get sent to the back, only to come out later again like some kinda broken fucking record.”

KRA-KOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

“SHADDAP ALREADY!” Scoops bellowed with rage as he shook his fist towards the window once more.

Noah plopped back down in the chair, now feeling himself start to have a headache the more that he thought about it. He groaned softly, but Scoops wasn’t done yet.

“Seriously, when’s any time American Storm have ever done anything relevant? These are a couple of career losers, people who got nowhere to turn to for any other kinda job because they were dropped on their skulls too hard as children, so the only way for them to earn a quick buck to live is to have them get dropped on their domes just as hard as adults. They wanna talk to me about having some CTE going on? I guaran-fuckin’-tee you that their brains look like some Swiss cheese, boah!”

“And another thing-”

Just as Scoops was about to continue on his unhinged, maniacal rant with him turning red in the face, the door echoed around the room.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

Scoops and Noah shared a look between themselves, before Noah got out of his seat and trudged onwards to the door. He grabbed the dusty knob, turning it open, as a sopping wet Game Girl blankly stared ahead. Water continued to trickle down her body like miniature waterfalls, soaking the hotel carpets beneath her.

“Uh…”

“Are you okay?” Noah asked, trying to look for a nearby towel.

“I don’t wanna talk about it…” Game Girl groaned as she walked inside, closing the door behind her before she looked at Scoops. “I think I hate storms, now.”

Scoops snorted. “Yeah? I’m starting to hate them too, girlie.”[/b][/b]