His cell phone blared in his pocket, the custom ringtone more irritating than entertaining.  But he liked it that way.  Stupid people and their stupid trendy ringtones.  He hated them. 

He pulled it out and flipped it open, only to hear a dialtone.

Dammit, he thought to himself.  "If you dial a wrong number, at least have the balls to let me know!" he muttered under his breath to the empty room.  What pissed him off even more was the fact that this was the fourth time in a row it had happened in the past half hour.  His patience was wearing extremely thin.  And each number had been different, with no associated name.  If only he could reach through the phone, he would give some fool a special little surprise.

He should just turn the idiotic thing off.  But he hated missing calls.

Back to that silva.  He had been working on it far too long.  And all these interruptions weren't helping anything.  He needed some brain food.  Down the stairs to the kitchen.  Mom always had something worth snacking on around the house.  Sure, they had just moved, but that didn't prevent her from keeping the pantry too well stocked.

Snack in hand, he turned to head back up the stairs when his phone rang again. 

"Jello," he answered.

"You failed me Braeden," a deep and menacing voice coolly said.  "You broke your promise.  I don't like it when people break their promises."

"What are you talking about?" he questioned, a hint of nervousness in his voice.  "Are you the idiot who has been calling me all afternoon?  Then just hanging up?  Not cool dude, not cool."

"Not cool, hum?" the voice responded.  "Let me tell you what is not cool.  People who give their word and then don't come through.  That sits poorly with me.  I do believe I will need some sort of retribution."

"Retribution?  What the hell are you talking about?"  There was more than a hint of nervousness by this point.  Who was this?  I should just hang up, he thought to himself.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Do what?  I didn't say anything?  Now look, you moron, I'm just going to ha-"

"I said I wouldn't do that if I were you.  Do not trifle with me."  The voice was insistent, menacing and malevolent.  "I want you to walk to the window.  Now, tell me what you see."

Braeden walked to the window, moved the curtain aside and looked out into the empty street.  "I don't see anything.  Now look, just tell me who this is.  You have had your fun, I'm feeling a little nervous, so just hang up and leave me alone."

"Just a little nervous?  Then why is your hand shaking?"

Braeden looked at his hand.  It was shaking.  He hadn't even realized it.  This was not even remotely fun anymore.  He pushed the "End" button on his phone.  Nothing happened. 

A dark laugh came from the speaker on his phone.  "I warned you.  Now it is time to pay."

He knew that laugh.  He had heard it for years growing up.  Every time he was taken down while wrestling, every time he was a victim of a wet wily.  It was Peter's.

Suddenly the phone fell from his hand, his vision went white and he was lifted a good 6 inches from the floor.  He fell to the ground, his underwear firmly planted between his white cheeks, the waistband around his head.  He heard that laugh again, this time full of glee.

"That's right bro, you've been wedgied.  Atomic wedgied!  Booyah!"