“Is That Blood On the Ceiling?” (Patrons Only)

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Sometimes, folks, I don’t understand why my girlfriend puts us up with this SoBros team. 

We’re not as constantly amped as we may seem in our content. That is a sort of amplification of our true selves to a certain extent. But, when we all get together, we do tend to get a little rowdy. 

Sometimes, shit happens. i just look at Aura (that’s my girlfriend’s legal given name, just like mine is actually Stoney) and think, “what the fuck is she doing with me?” 

One of those occasions was brought up recently to Mose, who had never heard this story. 

I immediately knew it was premium Patreon content. 

We simply refer to it as “the pizza box story.” 

Aura is from New Jersey, and so, frequently flies home to visit family. One such week, she was out of town. I was bored and lonely, so I assembled a team of SoBros for a night of calm, relaxing debauchery. We weren’t even going to leave the apartment – just good old fashioned dude fun. Poppa Bear, Cadbury Pringlebatch, and “Nature Boy” Brandon Vick joined me at the “SoBros Studio.” Spoiler alert: SoBros Studio can mean one of many things: my apartment, my mom’s house, Poppa Bear’s house, Cadbury’s garage, my day job office that doesn’t know I work at work sometimes, etc. 

It’s like Asgard – the SoBros Studio is wherever your people are. Hope I didn’t just ruin some grandiose idea you had of one physical location where all these shenanigans take place. 

Anyway, we watched wrestling, drank a whole bunch of beer and whiskey, and ordered about five pizzas from Papa John’s. 

It was everything you’d want from a guy’s night, if you’re a guy who gets anxious in big crowds. No machismo flowing through the group – no one was trying to get laid (that I know of). Just good immature, childish fun….laughing at farts and such. 

Well, of course, we’re watching wrestling drunk. So, it was only a matter of time before we put in our old backyard wrestling tapes. 

Laughing at years past. Cringing at ex-girlfriends surfacing in the “crowd” at our shows. Wondering if we still had one more match left in the tank. 

Naturally, that nice sentiment evolved into me hooking Brandon in a sharpshooter in the middle of the living room floor. 

Poppa Bear interferes and we have a full-on triple threat. 

Cadbury didn’t grow up a wrestling guy. He wasn’t a wrestling guy at the time this happened, but he appreciated our commitment to what we were doing. I am proud to say that through SUP and the Scenic City Invitational, we’ve converted Cad to a wrestling guy. 

The fight spills over into the kitchen. Brandon executes a low blow on Poppa Bear, and tries to run away. 

Brandon was always the dastardly heel. 

As he’s running I pop up from behind the counter and knee him in the gut. He bowls over, and by this time, Poppa Bear is done selling the nut shut. So, he approaches the action, grabs one of the many pizza boxes strewn about. 

I remember it like it was yesterday.

He raises it over his head and comes down with the force of a speeding elk. The box crashes over the back of Brandon’s head. 

We’re all sitting in stunned silence for a minute. 

What Poppa Bear failed to realize is that there was still approximately half a pizza in the box. 

I’ve never seen such a splatter of pizza sauce. 

Our silence quickly turned into blue-in-the-face laughter when we realized what had happened. Poppa Bear was apologizing to Brandon, but none of us could breathe. Finally, Cad steps in and says, “guys we have to fucking clean this up quick. This is PIZZA SAUCE ON WHITE CARPET!” 

We immediately run, grab all the paper towels we can, get a bottle of spot remover and start scrubbing….EVERYTHING….it was on the floor. It was on my recliner. All over the dining room and living room. Specks on the couch…..I’m not kidding, it was everywhere. 

I look up at one point and notice that it’s on the walls, the counters. 

It’s no exaggeration to say it looked like a bomb of pizza sauce went off in my apartment. 

Brandon turns around and asks, “is there any on my back?” 

Indeed, there was. It was all over his back. In fact, Poppa Bear felt so guilty that he bought Brandon a new shirt within a week. But, we were all taken aback by the enormous gob of sausage and sauce affixed to Brandon’s hair. How he didn’t feel it, I’ll never know. 

We did a pretty good job of cleaning the carpet, the walls, Brandon, etc. It was actually pretty fucking spotless by the time we were done. 

We sat and laughed about it the rest of the night. 

A couple of days pass, Aura comes home, and I nervously watch every step she takes as she walks through the apartment, settling in, and setting her stuff down. 

I think, “whew, we’re in the clear!” 

She goes into the bathroom, and from the living room I hear, “is this fucking BLOOD on the ceiling?!?!?” 

I immediately knew – the only thing I can think happened is that Brandon went into the bathroom to change, he took his shirt off, and when he did, it flung sauce onto the ceiling. Sure enough, I look up and see little blots of pizza sauce all over the ceiling in the dining room.

I was dead to rights. I had to explain it all to Aura, who was shaking her head at me the whole time….”you guys are fucking idiots.” 

The fucking ceiling. 

Stoney Keeley is the Editor in Chief of The SoBros Network. He is a strong supporter of Team GSD and #BeBetter. “Big Natural” covers the Tennessee Titans, Alabama Crimson Tide football, the WWE, and a whole wealth of nonsense. Follow on Twitter @StoneyKeeley

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