Fear and self-loathing in New York City
Feb 10, 2015 11:00:53 GMT -5
Logan, occulo, and 2 more like this
Post by Joey Flash on Feb 10, 2015 11:00:53 GMT -5
Unwelcome Return
It was nearly midnight as the little family of Joseph, Alessandra and Christian finally returned home. The night was crisp and clear as they stepped from the car, a complete contrast to their trip to Sicily; Joey opened the door for Alessandra and then pulled Christian out and hoisted him in his arms to carry the sleeping child inside. As they approached the door, it opened from within and stood in the doorway was Alessandra’s bodyguard Vincenzo.
If looks could kill the gore and guts of Vincenzo would have filled the hallway where he stood, Joey gazed on him with the look of a lion spotting a gazelle drinking from its favourite watering hole.
Vincenzo: Welcome back Miss Allegri, I hope you had a fantastic time.
Alessandra: Oh it was delightful, thank you.
Joey approached the doorway with his son in his arms. Vincenzo looked at him with a smile.
Vincenzo: Oh hello to you too Joey. Awww he’s a sleepy one, shall I take him to bed?
Joey stopped in his tracks and clutched the child further to his chest. You are coming nowhere near him you motherfucker.
Joey: No, I’ll deal with him. Make Al a drink, she’s shattered.
Vincenzo: What would you like Miss Allegri?
Alessandra: Wine, lots of it.
Joey brushed passed Vincenzo and cradled Christian as he carried the boy upstairs. Interesting Vincenzo, you’re acting like you’ve never been away, forever the loyal servant. He placed Christian in bed and wrapped a blanket round him; sitting at the end of his boy’s bed he sighed and rubbed his head with his hands. What to do, how to play this?
Joey came back downstairs to find Vincenzo sat next to Alessandra, both with a glass of red wine in their hands. Interesting cocksucker, you gonna make a move on her too? Lil girl all grown up. Joey entered the room and grabbed the bottle of wine.
Joey: Oh don’t mind me.
Alessandra: Use a glass. How many times?
Joey swigged from the bottle.
Joey: I’m enjoying it.
Vincenzo: The lady is right; other people have to drink from that.
Joey: Really?
Joey takes another swig.
Joey: Want a refill Vinnie?
Vincenzo places his glass on the table, Joey felt like wrapping the bottle around his head and repeatedly stabbing him in the neck with the broken shards, but poured the red liquid into the glass, rather than spraying it on his cream carpet.
Joey: I’m not contagious.
Alessandra: That’s up for debate.
They shared a look and smiled.
Vincenzo: How was your holiday anyway Miss?
How was it? You were fucking there you rat bastard.
Alessandra: Beautiful, thank you Vincenzo, I wish you were there, father was asking about you, he misses you you know.
Vincenzo chuckled.
Vincenzo: It would have been an honour; I’d love to share a drink with your father again. It’s been far too long. I hope you weren’t too intimidated Joseph.
Joey: Me? Nah you must be thinking of someone else.
Joey sat down; he needed to get off the passive aggressive bullshit. Calm down Joey, stern and stone faced. He smiled.
Joey: Though I couldn’t say the same about Fran, she had me weak at the knees.
Alessandra choked on her wine.
Alessandra: Would you shut up with that.
Joey: Never.
Vincenzo: Am I missing something?
Joey: Nah not at all. Anyway, I’m tired as shit, I’ll leave the pair of you to catch up. I need some shut eye, training and that in the morning.
Vincenzo waved a sarcastic goodbye to him.
Alessandra: You don’t want to wait up?
Joey: Nah too tired. Just be quiet when coming to bed, don’t get too drunk.
He gave her a kiss and whispered a good night and an ‘I love you’ then slunk away up the stairs. The stairs had been his personal spy point for the past week, don’t fail me now. He listened in as Alessandra and Vincenzo talked.
It was a whole lot of nothing for nigh on fifteen minutes, small talk and boredom was the story for Joey who was legitimately growing tired. As he was about to give up and go to bed he heard a loud shrill ‘WHAT?!’ from the room. He padded a couple of steps of down, the voices just in earshot.
Alessandra: Not a chance.
Vincenzo: I didn’t want to tell you before you went away, I’m sorry.
Alessandra: Don’t be stupid, it could be anything.
Vincenzo: Look.
Joey hears some rustling and shuffling.
Vincenzo: I found this in your son’s cupboard while cleaning; I think Joseph is using it as his stash. I daresay that’s the reason he was so quick to take Christian to bed, and to head to bed without you, but little does he know I managed to get it out and remove it before your child could maybe even…
Alessandra: But he swore to me, he swore he was off it and it was over.
Vincenzo: This is a needle; this is a bag of tar heroin. You can smell if you don’t believe me.
A pause.
Alessandra: I-…fucking hell Joseph.
Vincenzo: It’s okay, come here.
Unfuckingbelievable. The 1% of doubt Joey had running through his mind about his judgement of the situation was sent flying from his mind. He’s really going to set Joey up here, paint a picture and then have Joey collapse from a ‘bad bang’. Wow. Joey felt all the bile and venom in the back of his throat. Bodybags on deck? I’ll suit you up good; I’ll suit you up real fucking good Vincenzo.
Heroin Confessions
Joey Flash stirred his drink of scotch; he had become rather fond of this tipple. It reminded him of many things, the most important thing it was keeping firmly in his mind was survival.
‘Another dead junkie on the streets’
Was he over complicating things? Just get someone to blast Vincenzo in the street, quick and easy. It wasn’t like Joey hadn’t considered it, it wasn’t like hadn’t put feelers out to his man Miguel Diaz for the very job. The thing that gnawed at him is if he did it in such a brazen, open way it wouldn’t bring the devils to his door for Joey to face but would send them further in their lair where they would just orchestrate a hit themselves without getting further involved.
He didn’t know what the fuck the motive, what the reasoning is but he was damn fucking sure he wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt because of him. He had caused too much pain, too much suffering in his life. No more, no one else close to him is ever going to be hurt again, he had been backed into a corner, and they had taken the fight to his very home and to his family. For this, Joey was damn sure going to wield the headsman’s axe with no quarter. You want a junkie Vincenzo? That’s the picture you want to paint? Well fine, I’ll be a co-operative little puppet Vinnie, get ya tap shoes on; you’re in for a slow dance with the devil.
Joey had finished half the bottle of scotch by midnight; his vision had a lovely buzzing haze. He had made the first phone call to his dealer, Eddie for two months. After many exclamations of ‘I thought you’d quit this shit’ and ‘Are you sure?’ from the other end of the phone, Joey pushed through and made the deal. He wasn’t sure, he fucking hated this. He had driven, half-drunk to Eddie’s house to pick the H up. Everything had to be real, everything had to look legit, and Joey wondered if any Hollywood actors would method it to this extreme, if their fuckin life was on the line, yes. He looked down at the table at the syringe, hello darkness my old friend; I’ve come to talk with you again. He slapped his forearm stiffly with his palm to raise a vein, no half measures Joseph. He broke the skin and the vein and pressed down on the syringe.
Now, we wait…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This hadn’t gone how Joey had expected. He found himself in a pool of his own sick, his mouth bloody from collapsing and hitting his head, all the bad thoughts, all the bad feelings that Joey had been doing so well to lock away in a safe in his mind had been broken into by his high. Maybe this is what he deserved, maybe this is every bad thing he had ever done coming back to haunt him. He had hurt people, he had killed people, he had ruined lives…he had…he had children killed.
He sobbed into the vomit, this was justice. He wouldn’t let anyone else got caught in this, it was going to end tonight. He staggered back to his feet and fumbled in his gym bag, it was here, it was here somewhere…he found it. Glock 9mm, meet Joey Flash.
Alessandra kicked her shoes off at the door, she spotted a speck of blood on one of the sneakers, poor chap had stained her shoes. He would have been made to apologise if his skull wasn’t in a thousand pieces in the Hudson River. It had been far too messy for her liking, but she had to take her frustrations out on someone. Only yesterday had she found out her fiancée was hiding drugs in her fucking child’s room. She hadn’t said anything yet, but was in full ‘I’m going to rip you to shreds Joseph’ mode tonight.
Making her way through the living room she wasn’t ready for the sight that greeted her. There were empty bottles of beer dotted sloppily around the room. She growled, kicking one of them angrily against the wall. Her attention then turned to a pipe on the sideboard, which she picked up and flung against the wall. She stormed into the next room, following another couple of beer bottles…and a needle. It was true, Vincenzo had never lied to her before, our child is asleep here and you do…you do this. She was beyond anger at this point. Joseph wasn’t perfect, in fact she loved him for the fact he wasn’t, he was naïve, very naïve about the world, but he was a strong, powerful, smart alpha male. She accepted being his mate and quickening his seed happily, but she was not going to let this ruin her. He was becoming a liability as much as a lover.
She kicked the door open into the kitchen, and there was a sight she definitely wasn’t ready for.
Joey felt the cold metal against the roof of his mouth, don’t pull, squeeze. It’s taken you enough intoxicated courage. Do it. His palms sweaty, he could taste the salt of his tears in his mouth now masking the blood and vomit. Just do it. One second and it’s all gone, no more pain, does it really just fade to black, does it hurt? One more deep breath, Joey closed his eyes. Squeeze. He went to squeeze, but found nothing but air, as the gun had been knocked out of this hand onto the floor. He soon joined it
as the second swipe knocked him straight to the floor.
Alessandra: Cazzo Joseph, che cosa stai facendo?!?!
Joey seemed stunned, before screaming back.
Joey: What the fuck are you doing?! Just let me...
He was cut off as she kicked him in the face.
Alessandra: Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.
Joey offered no resistance. His nose shattered, as is the normalcy for noses owned by Joey Flash, he just lay there. No more pain.
Alessandra: WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!
Joey didn’t even look at Alessandra, just rolled onto his back and slowly wiped his eyes with his hand.
Joey: It doesn’t matter.
Alessandra: What the fuck is this shit?
Joey crawled back to his feet, and found the nearest half full beer bottle, taking a long swig.
Joey: What does it look like?
Alessandra said nothing for a moment before answering.
Alessandra: What is it Joseph? What is it that is so bad that you have to do the most cowardly thing possible? Is it your loving fiancée? Your beautiful house? Your adorable son? Vincenzo told me what you had been doing, I came to give you a punch and telling off and now…and now I find you…
Joey threw the bottle against the wall, the smash echoing through the room. Staring at Alessandra for the first time.
Joey: That’s exactly why.
Alessandra felt her stomach tighten and her eyes start to burn, she was crying. It had been years since something had done this to her. Seeing the person she loved more than anything in this world in such a state made her…vulnerable. She had doubted ‘love’ and thought of it more of protecting ‘her property’ any time she had helped him in the past. But seeing the man on his knees like this made her fucking heart break.
Joey: See, this is all I can do, you’re learning now. Leave me be.
Alessandra: What? What have I done? What have I done to turn you into this? What have we done?
Joey: Just shut up, I can’t do this right now.
Alessandra wiped her eyes to little avail.
Alessandra: Ple... Jeey jus’ till April.
Her words were messed up from the crying.
Joey: Why did you have to go fuck things up, why’d you have to come home now, Jesus...
He started pacing.
Joey: I was ready, I was finally fucking ready, and you had to...
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a patter of footsteps as the kitchen door opened.
Christian: Mama?
Alessandra covered her face.
Alessandra: Go to bed Chris...
Christian stayed put.
Christian: Why Mama crying?
Alessandra: GO... TO FUCKING...BED! NOW!
Christian now started crying a bit, and ran off upstairs. Alessandra growled under her breath.
Alessandra: You might have pushed me too far this time Joey...
Joey: Then fuck off and let me finish what I started, go upstairs, your kid is crying.
Alessandra: OUR KID JOEY! OUR KID! You don’t think he’s gonna cry a lot more if you’re a bloody mess on the carpet?! What if he’d come down and found you for fuck’s sake?
Joey: I’d be doing him a favour, cunt is coddled enough as it is.
Alessandra: HOW DARE YOU!
She picked up the nearest bottle and flung it at him. It cracked onto his shoulder. Joey stared at her; he dragged the pistol toward him, and kicked it toward her.
Joey: Try that next time.
Alessandra duly picked it up and flung it at him. This time, she hit him on the head. He took a step back as the pistol clunked to the floor, blood trickling from his head.
Joey: That’s not how you use it.
Alessandra: You really think I don’t know how to use a fucking gun? Go disinfect your head before it becomes rank.
Joey ran his hand along his head and looked at the blood.
Joey: Don’t ever tell me what to do.
Alessandra: Just pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.
Joey: Don’t you get it? This is as together as I'm ever going to get, just let me get it done.
Alessandra: No! It isn’t! We have a life! A future! A family! We do...
She started to cry again.
Joey: You call THIS a life?
Joey picked up another bottle, sunk it in seconds.
Joey: I can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t look at myself without feeling sick, I can’t bear to even look at my own child. What life is this? Tell me cunt? This...
He threw the bottle against the wall.
Joey: This...
He picked the needle up and dropped it on the floor and crushed it with his bare foot, wincing as the glass sliced through his skin.
Joey: ... is all that keeps me close to living.
Alessandra: WHY? WHY? JUST PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME...
Joey: Okay let me put it in plain terms, imagine having something tearing at your stomach, in your heart and in your head every second of the day. I’ve seen things, done things, that you couldn’t possibly understand, and I'll be damned if I’m gonna force this shit onto you. Just...just leave me alone. I can handle my shit, just fuck off Al.
Alessandra: Try me. If I can’t understand then I’ll go... I... promise...
His tone lowered for the first time today, feeling the blood run down into his eyes.
Joey: It’s not that easy Al.
She went across to him, and slipped her arm gently around him.
Alessandra: Why?
He flinched at first, before his shoulders relaxed.
Joey: You’ll hate me more than you already do. It’s bad...it’s really bad...
He started crying, for the first time, she saw him cry. She squeezed him tighter.
Alessandra: I won’t. I promise. Nothing could shock me.
This was truer than Joey could ever know, the poor chap earlier tonight could solidly attest to that. Joey paused and shrugged her off.
Joey: I just need to breathe.
He slowly inhaled and exhaled, looking upward at the ceiling.
Joey: Robert.
He was silent.
Alessandra winced. Of course it was, she knew her father said something to him about it. Why did he have to even bring it up? She had flown into a rage toward her father about it, even as far as threatening his life. He allayed her fears and assured her nothing would come from it. Well guess what, something has come from it, he just tried to fucking kill himself.
Alessandra: What about him?
Joey put his head in his hands, shoulders shuddering from the tears.
Joey: It...It was only meant to be him...I didn’t....
Alessandra felt her chest tighten, no, no; he can’t think…he didn’t. She knows he didn’t. He thinks he caused the death of the two girls, does he think he killed them? She was having to use every last bit of her willpower to not break out into a fit right now Should I tell him the truth? She was so close. But what will he think of me? She swore never ever to involve him or Christian in anything to do with that side of the family. But if she didn’t tell him…
Alessandra: Joey...
Joey looked up her, his tears mixed with the blood from his head.
Joey: So I deserve this? A fiancée, a nice house, a fucking child? I can still see their little faces Alessandra...I did something really bad...The only thing I deserve is what I was going to do earlier, why did you have to...
Alessandra: NO! You don’t deserve that!
Joey: No?! Fuck you. If someone hurt Christian, really hurt him, would he deserve that?
Alessandra: I’d do it my fucking self.
She was losing it; she had to stop now before anything more slipped out. She couldn’t focus her thoughts.
Joey: ...That’s why.
She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t tell him, and the words were at the tip of her tongue. Seeing what it had reduced him to, had it been this bad since then? Is this why he was so…different? Why he would wake her up for a hug after a nightmare every night? She cursed herself, but had to play along.
Alessandra: Joey? Who did you hurt?
Joey: I ripped out my own heart and ground it into dust, I’m living their pain right now, and I deserve every sleepless night, I deserve to be hated. You’re right, I’m a coward, there’s no other way past this than to end it, this isn’t life, and I sure don’t deserve whatever life is.
He stood up.
Joey: I either finish it tonight or I’m ground down slowly by all these demons, and I take you with me. It’s just not worth it anymore.
She felt physically sick. She had seen pain and suffering from every possible angle, she had taken a microscope and fucking studied that shit. She was an expert. Fear, intimidation, pain and death, she had killed a father of three just this evening for the simple fact he didn’t say ‘Sorry’ for not paying her father, her only reaction was annoyance his blood was on her shoes. Seeing this, seeing Joey a broken man…this hurt, this really hurt.
Alessandra: It is worth it. You didn’t do anything you didn’t have to. I love you.
Joey: I didn’t have to kill children.
He finally said it, with that his tears came again. He couldn’t breathe. Alessandra said nothing, she just went pale.
She wished for everything she could tell him, she held him and only one thought was in her mind. You didn’t kill any children...
...I did.
Let's do the Timewarp Again.
The world of Joseph Flash was a complex one; he had more issues than the New York Times. For everything there was one saving grace Joey still had in life, some visited church for forgiveness and cleansing on Sundays, Joey’s Sunday penance was in front of tens of thousands of people was in the middle of a squared circle under all the spotlights in the world. Joey was standing in the middle of partially constructed WCF ring. The arena was completely empty; the only sound that echoed through the large vast hollow was the creaking of the wind battering the building. Joey raised his head and a spotlight clicked on, shining down upon him like acceptance from a God. Joey smiled.
Joey: No more games.
I’m going to air this shit out right now before I air some people out myself. The WCF Trilogy Cup has been announced. I was watching Slam just like the rest of you, I was kicked back doing my stretches and shit, downward facing dog all up in this motherfucker. Seth appears and announces this shit, I hear from my television ‘The winner of the tournament will get a World Title shot’ and damn son my ears pricked up faster than a Seth Rollins instagram page. So I rub my hands in glee and think ‘Gee Wizz, four matches until I’m World Champion!’ this shit light work. Then this morning I’m happily browsing www.wcfwrestling.com and see that the PPV card has been partially announced, oh shit I thought, here we go, who am I gonna be walking through in the first round? The page loaded, it loaded slower than 56k on a good day, my heart was a flutter and I was getting pumped. The matches loaded one by one:
Jayson Price vs Chelsea Armstrong vs Dune
Okay, this is aight, two worthless bastards and a woman. Who cares, where’s my match?
Jackson White vs Occulo
Good god, really? Cockulo probably going to blow it and lose to this shit bastard right from the off, dunce, at least I might have to pound Occy’s fuckin face in if I get to fight him again. Small victories.
Jay Omega vs Deuce Murdock
Now I’m getting concerned, but shit, they saving the best til last right?
Then it loaded, the last match loaded. Wanna know what it said? Wanna know what it fucking said?
Alex Richards vs DVS.
Wanna know where my laptop went? Straight out the fucking window. I can take a lot of shit, I can take being ignored by cowards, I can take having to defend my belt every single week, I can take fighting every single jobber that the WCF deems as a potential ‘new star’ and sending them to the scrapheap, you know what they even had me doing last week? They had me opening the show against two wrestlers who can barely even be classes as amateurs. I can take that, I can forgive that. Wanna know what I’m not going to be forgiving for Mr Lerch? It’s being so flagrantly and blatantly disrespected.
Things are going escalate quickly. Truth told, I didn’t give a fuck, I didn’t care about defending my title to open the show, it’s a quick night for me, and I can fuck off home. I didn’t care that I was working at the highest level in the whole federation and getting paid a fifth of what someone with a fifth of my talent like ICE is, I thought that my own knowledge of my superiority was enough. That I could sleep at night knowing that I could wash the whole roster with consummate ease. Then you go and do this, it’s completely clear to me your angle now motherfucker. Didn’t realise you worked in the protection business. This is asset management at its finest, which business school did you go to, The School of Hard Cocks? It’s not the fact I’m being ignored, or the fact I’m an afterthought, it’s the fact that you are thinking about me too much, ya’ll are scared, I’m living rent free in Seth’s idiotic mind. You know the result already if I’m in that tournament, it makes for no good business, it doesn’t do anything for marketing, it doesn’t build a new superstar, and it would be a fucking procession to my inauguration ceremony. Disrespect.
As I said, I didn’t give a fuck, I didn’t care. I was happy chugging along at the bottom of the card because I love this shit, the biggest mistake you’ve done now? Is you’ve made me give a fuck, you’ve made me care.
This tournament won’t even be a tournament; it’s going to be a fucking bloodbath. I’m going to turn each match into a crime scene. That wild card spot? Shove it up ya pussy, don’t even think about offering that shit to compensate, we past that, I’ll defend my Television title then I’m going to destroy all your little plans, all the people you’re protecting, one by fucking one.
Joey slides out of the ring, grabs a chair from ringside and slides back into the ring, unfolding it and plopping himself down.
Joey: Another sacrificial lamb from the venerable Mr Lerch. Doc Henry, bring your sorry ass to the slaughter. Welcome back Doc, you’ve been missed…said no fucker ever. You picked exactly the wrong time to make your long lauded return, ‘Mystery Champion’ is about to become ‘Missing ex-wrestler, has anyone seen him?’ So you plopped back onto our screens at the time that Joseph Flash is the Television title, and what reward do you get? A match with him, it’s okay, you’ve won the Television title before, so you should be an old hat at beating people like me right? You’ve competed at a higher level than me right? Let’s see how that logic fares ya you daft Southern twat. Punk pussy thinks he can walk in and just throw himself back to the top of the federation off my back, soft ass bastard you as sweet as the tea in the south.
You don’t know what you’re gonna get from me, lemme outline for a bit of help, no bullshit, no gimmicks, no flashing cartoons, no strange elaborate metaphorical character studies, just straight disrespect. This gonna burn worse than ya fuckin gunshot wound.
What up cunt, let’s get it poppin. Where you been all this time? You were ‘banished to a temporal realm’ or as we in the real world know it ‘locked up in a fucking nuthouse’. Fucking hell, so rather than handling your shit with ya boy Johnny Reb you’re taking a side track and deciding to fight me instead? If someone who did that to me was in the same fuckin building as me I’d be right there in their face the very next second demanding my pound of flesh. Hopefully the beat down you catch will shake the cobwebs loose and make you focus on what really matters. You were robbed of your freedom, pride and happiness, so fucking handle it. Shit, I’ll be cheering you on and drinking a beer in your honour.
Mr Tag Team specialist, this shit ain’t your forte buddy. You the man with a posse, but left to your own devices you just sort of…exist. You don’t win much, you don’t lose much, you’re batting for nearly .500, that’s the equivalent of the Mendoza line in this business, and you’ve got Randy Johnson bearing down with a heater by ya fuckin chin. So step back from the plate and just walk away, it’s a big man move to know when you’re outmatched. You need a partner to help you get by; no motley crew to help you this time, when I’m through the Doc won’t feel good.
The thing I like about you the least is your balls to be running about claiming to be a champion. Championships are earned, championships are worked for, sweat for, bled for…let me guess, in order to win the Confederate title you had a black guy do it for you? Let’s do this you faggot, put your worthless trinket on the line against my title. One of ours has legitimacy; the other is simply a comfort blanket for someone who used to be something. If I win, I take your belt; if you win you take mine. You’ll say no, they always will. If you have any confidence in yourself you’ll take that little pacifier for your soul and put it on the line, Could do with a ‘JOEY FLASH CHAMPIONSHIP’ belt.
You’ve travelled space and time to make it into this match; it’s a hell of a travel and struggle for five minutes of embarrassment and humiliation. Consider this your welcome back party. What kind of sights did you see in your journeys through time? I can tell you now; it has nothing on the majesty you are going to witness first hand on Slam. The ages have come and the ages have gone. The one constant in this company is Joseph Flash, I reign and I dominate. Reign, dominate, reign, dominate. It’s getting tedious at this point, Seth has pushed me to add another word to my happenings here, conquer. You’ve made this shit personal, some shit you never should have done. Pay my checks and I’ll give you ratings, but you spit on my pride I’m gonna do some total other shit. Crazy shit, week after week, I wasn’t even caring about my opponents, just wanting to top myself like Marylin Manson.
Don’t mistake it Doc, I don’t care about you. You’re just the unlucky loser of a lottery of stupidity Seth continues to place a bet on each week. Bet on Flash and you’d have won ya bet eleven times in a row. You’re not a bad wrestler; you’re not a bad guy. I don’t hate you and I don’t want to hurt you, you evoke no emotion in me Mr Generic. You’re just…’a guy’ and I’m the best wrestler in the world. The difference is stark, and it will be brutal. This match is like a colostomy, I’ve got this shit in the bag.
Bodybags on deck, call the fuckin Doc.
Man in the Mirror
It had been two days since Joey’s drug addled meltdown. He looked at himself in the mirror, rubbing the stubble that covered his jaw. He still ached from head to toe. He couldn’t remember a thing, he had no idea what had happened to him. He just hoped that he hadn’t hurt anyone, but if anything it seemed to be the opposite. He woke in bed the next day with Alessandra stroking his hair. She talked to him about the drugs, and he admitted to everything, that he would never do it again, blah fucking blah. She didn’t believe him, he knew, but that was good. He needed to be a ‘junkie on the streets’ for his plan to work. Had his gambit worked? He would see over the coming weeks. Joey had laid the bait and gambled with his life, it would either be a jackpot or the end of his time on this earth, ride your luck Joseph.
Joey smiled; he always was a lucky man.
It was nearly midnight as the little family of Joseph, Alessandra and Christian finally returned home. The night was crisp and clear as they stepped from the car, a complete contrast to their trip to Sicily; Joey opened the door for Alessandra and then pulled Christian out and hoisted him in his arms to carry the sleeping child inside. As they approached the door, it opened from within and stood in the doorway was Alessandra’s bodyguard Vincenzo.
If looks could kill the gore and guts of Vincenzo would have filled the hallway where he stood, Joey gazed on him with the look of a lion spotting a gazelle drinking from its favourite watering hole.
Vincenzo: Welcome back Miss Allegri, I hope you had a fantastic time.
Alessandra: Oh it was delightful, thank you.
Joey approached the doorway with his son in his arms. Vincenzo looked at him with a smile.
Vincenzo: Oh hello to you too Joey. Awww he’s a sleepy one, shall I take him to bed?
Joey stopped in his tracks and clutched the child further to his chest. You are coming nowhere near him you motherfucker.
Joey: No, I’ll deal with him. Make Al a drink, she’s shattered.
Vincenzo: What would you like Miss Allegri?
Alessandra: Wine, lots of it.
Joey brushed passed Vincenzo and cradled Christian as he carried the boy upstairs. Interesting Vincenzo, you’re acting like you’ve never been away, forever the loyal servant. He placed Christian in bed and wrapped a blanket round him; sitting at the end of his boy’s bed he sighed and rubbed his head with his hands. What to do, how to play this?
Joey came back downstairs to find Vincenzo sat next to Alessandra, both with a glass of red wine in their hands. Interesting cocksucker, you gonna make a move on her too? Lil girl all grown up. Joey entered the room and grabbed the bottle of wine.
Joey: Oh don’t mind me.
Alessandra: Use a glass. How many times?
Joey swigged from the bottle.
Joey: I’m enjoying it.
Vincenzo: The lady is right; other people have to drink from that.
Joey: Really?
Joey takes another swig.
Joey: Want a refill Vinnie?
Vincenzo places his glass on the table, Joey felt like wrapping the bottle around his head and repeatedly stabbing him in the neck with the broken shards, but poured the red liquid into the glass, rather than spraying it on his cream carpet.
Joey: I’m not contagious.
Alessandra: That’s up for debate.
They shared a look and smiled.
Vincenzo: How was your holiday anyway Miss?
How was it? You were fucking there you rat bastard.
Alessandra: Beautiful, thank you Vincenzo, I wish you were there, father was asking about you, he misses you you know.
Vincenzo chuckled.
Vincenzo: It would have been an honour; I’d love to share a drink with your father again. It’s been far too long. I hope you weren’t too intimidated Joseph.
Joey: Me? Nah you must be thinking of someone else.
Joey sat down; he needed to get off the passive aggressive bullshit. Calm down Joey, stern and stone faced. He smiled.
Joey: Though I couldn’t say the same about Fran, she had me weak at the knees.
Alessandra choked on her wine.
Alessandra: Would you shut up with that.
Joey: Never.
Vincenzo: Am I missing something?
Joey: Nah not at all. Anyway, I’m tired as shit, I’ll leave the pair of you to catch up. I need some shut eye, training and that in the morning.
Vincenzo waved a sarcastic goodbye to him.
Alessandra: You don’t want to wait up?
Joey: Nah too tired. Just be quiet when coming to bed, don’t get too drunk.
He gave her a kiss and whispered a good night and an ‘I love you’ then slunk away up the stairs. The stairs had been his personal spy point for the past week, don’t fail me now. He listened in as Alessandra and Vincenzo talked.
It was a whole lot of nothing for nigh on fifteen minutes, small talk and boredom was the story for Joey who was legitimately growing tired. As he was about to give up and go to bed he heard a loud shrill ‘WHAT?!’ from the room. He padded a couple of steps of down, the voices just in earshot.
Alessandra: Not a chance.
Vincenzo: I didn’t want to tell you before you went away, I’m sorry.
Alessandra: Don’t be stupid, it could be anything.
Vincenzo: Look.
Joey hears some rustling and shuffling.
Vincenzo: I found this in your son’s cupboard while cleaning; I think Joseph is using it as his stash. I daresay that’s the reason he was so quick to take Christian to bed, and to head to bed without you, but little does he know I managed to get it out and remove it before your child could maybe even…
Alessandra: But he swore to me, he swore he was off it and it was over.
Vincenzo: This is a needle; this is a bag of tar heroin. You can smell if you don’t believe me.
A pause.
Alessandra: I-…fucking hell Joseph.
Vincenzo: It’s okay, come here.
Unfuckingbelievable. The 1% of doubt Joey had running through his mind about his judgement of the situation was sent flying from his mind. He’s really going to set Joey up here, paint a picture and then have Joey collapse from a ‘bad bang’. Wow. Joey felt all the bile and venom in the back of his throat. Bodybags on deck? I’ll suit you up good; I’ll suit you up real fucking good Vincenzo.
Heroin Confessions
Joey Flash stirred his drink of scotch; he had become rather fond of this tipple. It reminded him of many things, the most important thing it was keeping firmly in his mind was survival.
‘Another dead junkie on the streets’
Was he over complicating things? Just get someone to blast Vincenzo in the street, quick and easy. It wasn’t like Joey hadn’t considered it, it wasn’t like hadn’t put feelers out to his man Miguel Diaz for the very job. The thing that gnawed at him is if he did it in such a brazen, open way it wouldn’t bring the devils to his door for Joey to face but would send them further in their lair where they would just orchestrate a hit themselves without getting further involved.
He didn’t know what the fuck the motive, what the reasoning is but he was damn fucking sure he wasn’t going to let anyone else get hurt because of him. He had caused too much pain, too much suffering in his life. No more, no one else close to him is ever going to be hurt again, he had been backed into a corner, and they had taken the fight to his very home and to his family. For this, Joey was damn sure going to wield the headsman’s axe with no quarter. You want a junkie Vincenzo? That’s the picture you want to paint? Well fine, I’ll be a co-operative little puppet Vinnie, get ya tap shoes on; you’re in for a slow dance with the devil.
Joey had finished half the bottle of scotch by midnight; his vision had a lovely buzzing haze. He had made the first phone call to his dealer, Eddie for two months. After many exclamations of ‘I thought you’d quit this shit’ and ‘Are you sure?’ from the other end of the phone, Joey pushed through and made the deal. He wasn’t sure, he fucking hated this. He had driven, half-drunk to Eddie’s house to pick the H up. Everything had to be real, everything had to look legit, and Joey wondered if any Hollywood actors would method it to this extreme, if their fuckin life was on the line, yes. He looked down at the table at the syringe, hello darkness my old friend; I’ve come to talk with you again. He slapped his forearm stiffly with his palm to raise a vein, no half measures Joseph. He broke the skin and the vein and pressed down on the syringe.
Now, we wait…
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This hadn’t gone how Joey had expected. He found himself in a pool of his own sick, his mouth bloody from collapsing and hitting his head, all the bad thoughts, all the bad feelings that Joey had been doing so well to lock away in a safe in his mind had been broken into by his high. Maybe this is what he deserved, maybe this is every bad thing he had ever done coming back to haunt him. He had hurt people, he had killed people, he had ruined lives…he had…he had children killed.
He sobbed into the vomit, this was justice. He wouldn’t let anyone else got caught in this, it was going to end tonight. He staggered back to his feet and fumbled in his gym bag, it was here, it was here somewhere…he found it. Glock 9mm, meet Joey Flash.
Alessandra kicked her shoes off at the door, she spotted a speck of blood on one of the sneakers, poor chap had stained her shoes. He would have been made to apologise if his skull wasn’t in a thousand pieces in the Hudson River. It had been far too messy for her liking, but she had to take her frustrations out on someone. Only yesterday had she found out her fiancée was hiding drugs in her fucking child’s room. She hadn’t said anything yet, but was in full ‘I’m going to rip you to shreds Joseph’ mode tonight.
Making her way through the living room she wasn’t ready for the sight that greeted her. There were empty bottles of beer dotted sloppily around the room. She growled, kicking one of them angrily against the wall. Her attention then turned to a pipe on the sideboard, which she picked up and flung against the wall. She stormed into the next room, following another couple of beer bottles…and a needle. It was true, Vincenzo had never lied to her before, our child is asleep here and you do…you do this. She was beyond anger at this point. Joseph wasn’t perfect, in fact she loved him for the fact he wasn’t, he was naïve, very naïve about the world, but he was a strong, powerful, smart alpha male. She accepted being his mate and quickening his seed happily, but she was not going to let this ruin her. He was becoming a liability as much as a lover.
She kicked the door open into the kitchen, and there was a sight she definitely wasn’t ready for.
Joey felt the cold metal against the roof of his mouth, don’t pull, squeeze. It’s taken you enough intoxicated courage. Do it. His palms sweaty, he could taste the salt of his tears in his mouth now masking the blood and vomit. Just do it. One second and it’s all gone, no more pain, does it really just fade to black, does it hurt? One more deep breath, Joey closed his eyes. Squeeze. He went to squeeze, but found nothing but air, as the gun had been knocked out of this hand onto the floor. He soon joined it
as the second swipe knocked him straight to the floor.
Alessandra: Cazzo Joseph, che cosa stai facendo?!?!
Joey seemed stunned, before screaming back.
Joey: What the fuck are you doing?! Just let me...
He was cut off as she kicked him in the face.
Alessandra: Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.
Joey offered no resistance. His nose shattered, as is the normalcy for noses owned by Joey Flash, he just lay there. No more pain.
Alessandra: WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?!
Joey didn’t even look at Alessandra, just rolled onto his back and slowly wiped his eyes with his hand.
Joey: It doesn’t matter.
Alessandra: What the fuck is this shit?
Joey crawled back to his feet, and found the nearest half full beer bottle, taking a long swig.
Joey: What does it look like?
Alessandra said nothing for a moment before answering.
Alessandra: What is it Joseph? What is it that is so bad that you have to do the most cowardly thing possible? Is it your loving fiancée? Your beautiful house? Your adorable son? Vincenzo told me what you had been doing, I came to give you a punch and telling off and now…and now I find you…
Joey threw the bottle against the wall, the smash echoing through the room. Staring at Alessandra for the first time.
Joey: That’s exactly why.
Alessandra felt her stomach tighten and her eyes start to burn, she was crying. It had been years since something had done this to her. Seeing the person she loved more than anything in this world in such a state made her…vulnerable. She had doubted ‘love’ and thought of it more of protecting ‘her property’ any time she had helped him in the past. But seeing the man on his knees like this made her fucking heart break.
Joey: See, this is all I can do, you’re learning now. Leave me be.
Alessandra: What? What have I done? What have I done to turn you into this? What have we done?
Joey: Just shut up, I can’t do this right now.
Alessandra wiped her eyes to little avail.
Alessandra: Ple... Jeey jus’ till April.
Her words were messed up from the crying.
Joey: Why did you have to go fuck things up, why’d you have to come home now, Jesus...
He started pacing.
Joey: I was ready, I was finally fucking ready, and you had to...
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a patter of footsteps as the kitchen door opened.
Christian: Mama?
Alessandra covered her face.
Alessandra: Go to bed Chris...
Christian stayed put.
Christian: Why Mama crying?
Alessandra: GO... TO FUCKING...BED! NOW!
Christian now started crying a bit, and ran off upstairs. Alessandra growled under her breath.
Alessandra: You might have pushed me too far this time Joey...
Joey: Then fuck off and let me finish what I started, go upstairs, your kid is crying.
Alessandra: OUR KID JOEY! OUR KID! You don’t think he’s gonna cry a lot more if you’re a bloody mess on the carpet?! What if he’d come down and found you for fuck’s sake?
Joey: I’d be doing him a favour, cunt is coddled enough as it is.
Alessandra: HOW DARE YOU!
She picked up the nearest bottle and flung it at him. It cracked onto his shoulder. Joey stared at her; he dragged the pistol toward him, and kicked it toward her.
Joey: Try that next time.
Alessandra duly picked it up and flung it at him. This time, she hit him on the head. He took a step back as the pistol clunked to the floor, blood trickling from his head.
Joey: That’s not how you use it.
Alessandra: You really think I don’t know how to use a fucking gun? Go disinfect your head before it becomes rank.
Joey ran his hand along his head and looked at the blood.
Joey: Don’t ever tell me what to do.
Alessandra: Just pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.
Joey: Don’t you get it? This is as together as I'm ever going to get, just let me get it done.
Alessandra: No! It isn’t! We have a life! A future! A family! We do...
She started to cry again.
Joey: You call THIS a life?
Joey picked up another bottle, sunk it in seconds.
Joey: I can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t look at myself without feeling sick, I can’t bear to even look at my own child. What life is this? Tell me cunt? This...
He threw the bottle against the wall.
Joey: This...
He picked the needle up and dropped it on the floor and crushed it with his bare foot, wincing as the glass sliced through his skin.
Joey: ... is all that keeps me close to living.
Alessandra: WHY? WHY? JUST PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME...
Joey: Okay let me put it in plain terms, imagine having something tearing at your stomach, in your heart and in your head every second of the day. I’ve seen things, done things, that you couldn’t possibly understand, and I'll be damned if I’m gonna force this shit onto you. Just...just leave me alone. I can handle my shit, just fuck off Al.
Alessandra: Try me. If I can’t understand then I’ll go... I... promise...
His tone lowered for the first time today, feeling the blood run down into his eyes.
Joey: It’s not that easy Al.
She went across to him, and slipped her arm gently around him.
Alessandra: Why?
He flinched at first, before his shoulders relaxed.
Joey: You’ll hate me more than you already do. It’s bad...it’s really bad...
He started crying, for the first time, she saw him cry. She squeezed him tighter.
Alessandra: I won’t. I promise. Nothing could shock me.
This was truer than Joey could ever know, the poor chap earlier tonight could solidly attest to that. Joey paused and shrugged her off.
Joey: I just need to breathe.
He slowly inhaled and exhaled, looking upward at the ceiling.
Joey: Robert.
He was silent.
Alessandra winced. Of course it was, she knew her father said something to him about it. Why did he have to even bring it up? She had flown into a rage toward her father about it, even as far as threatening his life. He allayed her fears and assured her nothing would come from it. Well guess what, something has come from it, he just tried to fucking kill himself.
Alessandra: What about him?
Joey put his head in his hands, shoulders shuddering from the tears.
Joey: It...It was only meant to be him...I didn’t....
Alessandra felt her chest tighten, no, no; he can’t think…he didn’t. She knows he didn’t. He thinks he caused the death of the two girls, does he think he killed them? She was having to use every last bit of her willpower to not break out into a fit right now Should I tell him the truth? She was so close. But what will he think of me? She swore never ever to involve him or Christian in anything to do with that side of the family. But if she didn’t tell him…
Alessandra: Joey...
Joey looked up her, his tears mixed with the blood from his head.
Joey: So I deserve this? A fiancée, a nice house, a fucking child? I can still see their little faces Alessandra...I did something really bad...The only thing I deserve is what I was going to do earlier, why did you have to...
Alessandra: NO! You don’t deserve that!
Joey: No?! Fuck you. If someone hurt Christian, really hurt him, would he deserve that?
Alessandra: I’d do it my fucking self.
She was losing it; she had to stop now before anything more slipped out. She couldn’t focus her thoughts.
Joey: ...That’s why.
She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t tell him, and the words were at the tip of her tongue. Seeing what it had reduced him to, had it been this bad since then? Is this why he was so…different? Why he would wake her up for a hug after a nightmare every night? She cursed herself, but had to play along.
Alessandra: Joey? Who did you hurt?
Joey: I ripped out my own heart and ground it into dust, I’m living their pain right now, and I deserve every sleepless night, I deserve to be hated. You’re right, I’m a coward, there’s no other way past this than to end it, this isn’t life, and I sure don’t deserve whatever life is.
He stood up.
Joey: I either finish it tonight or I’m ground down slowly by all these demons, and I take you with me. It’s just not worth it anymore.
She felt physically sick. She had seen pain and suffering from every possible angle, she had taken a microscope and fucking studied that shit. She was an expert. Fear, intimidation, pain and death, she had killed a father of three just this evening for the simple fact he didn’t say ‘Sorry’ for not paying her father, her only reaction was annoyance his blood was on her shoes. Seeing this, seeing Joey a broken man…this hurt, this really hurt.
Alessandra: It is worth it. You didn’t do anything you didn’t have to. I love you.
Joey: I didn’t have to kill children.
He finally said it, with that his tears came again. He couldn’t breathe. Alessandra said nothing, she just went pale.
She wished for everything she could tell him, she held him and only one thought was in her mind. You didn’t kill any children...
...I did.
Let's do the Timewarp Again.
The world of Joseph Flash was a complex one; he had more issues than the New York Times. For everything there was one saving grace Joey still had in life, some visited church for forgiveness and cleansing on Sundays, Joey’s Sunday penance was in front of tens of thousands of people was in the middle of a squared circle under all the spotlights in the world. Joey was standing in the middle of partially constructed WCF ring. The arena was completely empty; the only sound that echoed through the large vast hollow was the creaking of the wind battering the building. Joey raised his head and a spotlight clicked on, shining down upon him like acceptance from a God. Joey smiled.
Joey: No more games.
I’m going to air this shit out right now before I air some people out myself. The WCF Trilogy Cup has been announced. I was watching Slam just like the rest of you, I was kicked back doing my stretches and shit, downward facing dog all up in this motherfucker. Seth appears and announces this shit, I hear from my television ‘The winner of the tournament will get a World Title shot’ and damn son my ears pricked up faster than a Seth Rollins instagram page. So I rub my hands in glee and think ‘Gee Wizz, four matches until I’m World Champion!’ this shit light work. Then this morning I’m happily browsing www.wcfwrestling.com and see that the PPV card has been partially announced, oh shit I thought, here we go, who am I gonna be walking through in the first round? The page loaded, it loaded slower than 56k on a good day, my heart was a flutter and I was getting pumped. The matches loaded one by one:
Jayson Price vs Chelsea Armstrong vs Dune
Okay, this is aight, two worthless bastards and a woman. Who cares, where’s my match?
Jackson White vs Occulo
Good god, really? Cockulo probably going to blow it and lose to this shit bastard right from the off, dunce, at least I might have to pound Occy’s fuckin face in if I get to fight him again. Small victories.
Jay Omega vs Deuce Murdock
Now I’m getting concerned, but shit, they saving the best til last right?
Then it loaded, the last match loaded. Wanna know what it said? Wanna know what it fucking said?
Alex Richards vs DVS.
Wanna know where my laptop went? Straight out the fucking window. I can take a lot of shit, I can take being ignored by cowards, I can take having to defend my belt every single week, I can take fighting every single jobber that the WCF deems as a potential ‘new star’ and sending them to the scrapheap, you know what they even had me doing last week? They had me opening the show against two wrestlers who can barely even be classes as amateurs. I can take that, I can forgive that. Wanna know what I’m not going to be forgiving for Mr Lerch? It’s being so flagrantly and blatantly disrespected.
Things are going escalate quickly. Truth told, I didn’t give a fuck, I didn’t care about defending my title to open the show, it’s a quick night for me, and I can fuck off home. I didn’t care that I was working at the highest level in the whole federation and getting paid a fifth of what someone with a fifth of my talent like ICE is, I thought that my own knowledge of my superiority was enough. That I could sleep at night knowing that I could wash the whole roster with consummate ease. Then you go and do this, it’s completely clear to me your angle now motherfucker. Didn’t realise you worked in the protection business. This is asset management at its finest, which business school did you go to, The School of Hard Cocks? It’s not the fact I’m being ignored, or the fact I’m an afterthought, it’s the fact that you are thinking about me too much, ya’ll are scared, I’m living rent free in Seth’s idiotic mind. You know the result already if I’m in that tournament, it makes for no good business, it doesn’t do anything for marketing, it doesn’t build a new superstar, and it would be a fucking procession to my inauguration ceremony. Disrespect.
As I said, I didn’t give a fuck, I didn’t care. I was happy chugging along at the bottom of the card because I love this shit, the biggest mistake you’ve done now? Is you’ve made me give a fuck, you’ve made me care.
This tournament won’t even be a tournament; it’s going to be a fucking bloodbath. I’m going to turn each match into a crime scene. That wild card spot? Shove it up ya pussy, don’t even think about offering that shit to compensate, we past that, I’ll defend my Television title then I’m going to destroy all your little plans, all the people you’re protecting, one by fucking one.
Joey slides out of the ring, grabs a chair from ringside and slides back into the ring, unfolding it and plopping himself down.
Joey: Another sacrificial lamb from the venerable Mr Lerch. Doc Henry, bring your sorry ass to the slaughter. Welcome back Doc, you’ve been missed…said no fucker ever. You picked exactly the wrong time to make your long lauded return, ‘Mystery Champion’ is about to become ‘Missing ex-wrestler, has anyone seen him?’ So you plopped back onto our screens at the time that Joseph Flash is the Television title, and what reward do you get? A match with him, it’s okay, you’ve won the Television title before, so you should be an old hat at beating people like me right? You’ve competed at a higher level than me right? Let’s see how that logic fares ya you daft Southern twat. Punk pussy thinks he can walk in and just throw himself back to the top of the federation off my back, soft ass bastard you as sweet as the tea in the south.
You don’t know what you’re gonna get from me, lemme outline for a bit of help, no bullshit, no gimmicks, no flashing cartoons, no strange elaborate metaphorical character studies, just straight disrespect. This gonna burn worse than ya fuckin gunshot wound.
What up cunt, let’s get it poppin. Where you been all this time? You were ‘banished to a temporal realm’ or as we in the real world know it ‘locked up in a fucking nuthouse’. Fucking hell, so rather than handling your shit with ya boy Johnny Reb you’re taking a side track and deciding to fight me instead? If someone who did that to me was in the same fuckin building as me I’d be right there in their face the very next second demanding my pound of flesh. Hopefully the beat down you catch will shake the cobwebs loose and make you focus on what really matters. You were robbed of your freedom, pride and happiness, so fucking handle it. Shit, I’ll be cheering you on and drinking a beer in your honour.
Mr Tag Team specialist, this shit ain’t your forte buddy. You the man with a posse, but left to your own devices you just sort of…exist. You don’t win much, you don’t lose much, you’re batting for nearly .500, that’s the equivalent of the Mendoza line in this business, and you’ve got Randy Johnson bearing down with a heater by ya fuckin chin. So step back from the plate and just walk away, it’s a big man move to know when you’re outmatched. You need a partner to help you get by; no motley crew to help you this time, when I’m through the Doc won’t feel good.
The thing I like about you the least is your balls to be running about claiming to be a champion. Championships are earned, championships are worked for, sweat for, bled for…let me guess, in order to win the Confederate title you had a black guy do it for you? Let’s do this you faggot, put your worthless trinket on the line against my title. One of ours has legitimacy; the other is simply a comfort blanket for someone who used to be something. If I win, I take your belt; if you win you take mine. You’ll say no, they always will. If you have any confidence in yourself you’ll take that little pacifier for your soul and put it on the line, Could do with a ‘JOEY FLASH CHAMPIONSHIP’ belt.
You’ve travelled space and time to make it into this match; it’s a hell of a travel and struggle for five minutes of embarrassment and humiliation. Consider this your welcome back party. What kind of sights did you see in your journeys through time? I can tell you now; it has nothing on the majesty you are going to witness first hand on Slam. The ages have come and the ages have gone. The one constant in this company is Joseph Flash, I reign and I dominate. Reign, dominate, reign, dominate. It’s getting tedious at this point, Seth has pushed me to add another word to my happenings here, conquer. You’ve made this shit personal, some shit you never should have done. Pay my checks and I’ll give you ratings, but you spit on my pride I’m gonna do some total other shit. Crazy shit, week after week, I wasn’t even caring about my opponents, just wanting to top myself like Marylin Manson.
Don’t mistake it Doc, I don’t care about you. You’re just the unlucky loser of a lottery of stupidity Seth continues to place a bet on each week. Bet on Flash and you’d have won ya bet eleven times in a row. You’re not a bad wrestler; you’re not a bad guy. I don’t hate you and I don’t want to hurt you, you evoke no emotion in me Mr Generic. You’re just…’a guy’ and I’m the best wrestler in the world. The difference is stark, and it will be brutal. This match is like a colostomy, I’ve got this shit in the bag.
Bodybags on deck, call the fuckin Doc.
Man in the Mirror
It had been two days since Joey’s drug addled meltdown. He looked at himself in the mirror, rubbing the stubble that covered his jaw. He still ached from head to toe. He couldn’t remember a thing, he had no idea what had happened to him. He just hoped that he hadn’t hurt anyone, but if anything it seemed to be the opposite. He woke in bed the next day with Alessandra stroking his hair. She talked to him about the drugs, and he admitted to everything, that he would never do it again, blah fucking blah. She didn’t believe him, he knew, but that was good. He needed to be a ‘junkie on the streets’ for his plan to work. Had his gambit worked? He would see over the coming weeks. Joey had laid the bait and gambled with his life, it would either be a jackpot or the end of his time on this earth, ride your luck Joseph.
Joey smiled; he always was a lucky man.
