Post by Deleted on Jun 12, 2016 2:07:36 GMT -5
I had a knot on the back of my head the size of Boston. Small, but throbbing. That douche nozzle Nathan Chambers blindsided myself and Slane this evening as some sort of way to exert dominance over us. All he really proved is that he can't hang, and is a little bitch. Doesn't stop the headache that I have right now, though.
The headache was going to be explaining to everyone back at the hotel room why I bailed after the last match for a week and bothered not to show up save for my one shoot interview I had with the cameraman. Truth be told, I couldn't take anymore of their negativity, and the week away from everyone proved to be just what I needed. But not just to get away from all the negative, but also to help me think over all of my relationships and the futures of said relationships.
But first, I had to get the hell out of the building. That proved to be rather difficult. The first obstacle that laid in my way was Seth Lerch. For the first time in weeks, he seemed to be his somewhat normal drunken self. Last week, he was as sober as a preacher, or judge, which proved to be quite annoying. Let it be known that a sober Seth is a Seth you really don't want to know. As I passed by him with my gear slung over my shoulder, he says...
Seth: I finally got Logan to come out of the locker room. Everything is back to normal.
Me: You got him out of the locker room, now to get him out of the closet...
Seth: Ha ha. But to show Family dominance is still in existence, I'm booking a six-man tag match with The Family against Oblivion, Bates, and Jeff Purse. And in case you forgot, you're still part of The Family.
Me: How can I forget that detail? You let me know almost everyday that if I don't play ball, I get fired. But this match isn't the worst ever. Gives me a good chance to have a look at the World Champ. The last two, to be precise. Though you really had to put Bates across from us?
Seth: The guy won't shut up about anything related to The Family! He's still super pissed about losing to you in the Classic, and he just hates Logan and Dag with the heat of a thousand suns. Don't know why...
Me: Great. I'll do my best to embarrass him yet again inside of the ring.
Seth: Looking forward to it! Don't let me down next week! Logan's been looking for you, by the way...
Me: Yeah, I'll go see him right now...
Seth smiled and walked away, as I continued in the direction I was going to begin with. Logan can wait, but this confrontation with my own personal relationships could not.
I continued walking to the rented Buick that has started to become more of a personal vehicle than an actual rental. The back seat was pretty comfortable whenever I didn't feel the urge to rent a room, if only to stay off of the grid. I popped the trunk with the keys and tossed my gear into the trunk, before closing it and getting into the driver's seat. I started the car, as I saw movement behind me in the rear-view mirror. As I looked to investigate, I heard a click of what I assmed was a pistol, before it was pressed on the side of my face, before a familiar voice says...
Dennis Kincaid: Don't turn around, just listen. We tasked you with a mission, which you have yet to provide any viable information that can serve us and our mission...
Me: What part of "not my job to do your job" did you not...
I got hit in the back of the head with something cold and blunt. Probably the butt of the pistol this asshole was holding on me, as he says...
Dennis Kincaid: This is my turn to talk, not yours. Anyways, since you've basically refused to play any games, we've lost contact with you. So now I've been forced to communicate with you via alternative methods. There's a phone on the passenger side seat in which we will contact you. If you do not answer it, we come find you and we get whatever information we want from you. Regardless of the situation you find yourself in. It could be at an autograph session, or while you're working with that new Jap trainer. Whenever we feel it necessary to talk. And believe me, we will make it as awkward as we can make it. Play ball, or we're going to hit you where it hurts.
Oh, I cannot wait to beat the fuck out of this guy, if it ever presents itself. I will shit in his mouth when it's over, just to let him know what it feels like to have to deal with this asshole. But I refrain from saying this, instead saying...
Me: Well, I got good news. I got a match next week with Dag as my partner. We'll be working together again, if only for a week. Last week, he got brutalized pretty bad. Bad enough I figured he was going to be spending a few days in a hospital. Hence why I figured you guys would be there to hold his hand while I healed from the assault Bates laid on him.
Dennis Kincaid: That's your job, not mine...
Me: I'm not getting paid for my services, so this is not a job I care to want.
Dennis Kincaid: Do you realize just how badly I can make your life suck? Or anybody else close to you? I thought I made that clear the last time we spoke in person...
Me: You did. You also told me to act natural. Being a racist piece of shit asshole is NOT how I act normal. Me suddenly changing my mannerisms would throw some huge red flags, you ass. Did you pick me because you thought I would be that guy for you? Or was it because I actually have people I give a shit about?
Look, this week I'll be working with Dag, so I'll call you and tell you about it. But right now, I got more important shit to deal with than your mission that you should be doing yourself, rather than pawning off on someone else that has no fucking clue on how to do whatever it is you really want me to do.
Dennis Kincaid: This isn't brain surgery. Just tell me where he goes, what he's doing when you're around. If you find his effects, look through them to see if anything out of the ordinary appears. Pictures would be nice. But you avoid me again, I will get meaner than just hiding out in the back of your rental waiting for a conversation that could have happened on a different format. You catch what I'm tossing?
Me: Yes, I get it.
Dennis Kincaid: Good...
I hear the door open, and he steps out of it and briskly walks away from the car after slamming the door behind him. It dawns on me that I could just whack the fucking bastard right here and now. His fingerprints and all sorts of stuff of his has got to be in this car. I could justify this as a struggle and a citizen's arrest. Hell, to sell it, I could slam myself onto the ground, maybe give myself a scrape or two...
Instead, I think to myself that somewhere I'd miss something and get charged with running down a federal agent. Especially if he's written me into anything official. I instead adjust my rear-view mirror once again and back out of the parking space. I drive in the opposite direction towards the parking lot exit.
Maybe tonight was the night to throw out my verbal haymakers. If anything, it may get some people out of the wake of danger this guy is just dragging to my front door...
Sammy: Where the hell have you been man? We were worried!
This was my greeting when I came through the door, as Sammy and Chojun were sitting in front of a computer watching the most recent episode of Slam. It was right at the point where we had won the match, but Chambers blindsided both myself and Stuart Slane in the middle of the ring. Chojun says in his Okinawan accent...
Chojun: You miss out on very valuable training time. My time is very valuable...
Susan came into the room from the bedroom we'd been sharing for the last several weeks, dressed in a large overshirt, as she says...
Susan: Oh thank God. Where have you been?
Me: I've been away because I needed to get away from all the negative, but it wasn't wasted time. Sue, we need to talk. I need to talk to all of you, actually, but Sue, we're going to talk privately. Can you wait in the bedroom for me?
She doesn't look pleased at the request, but she nods her head and walks back into the bedroom as she holds her stomach. Sammy then asks again...
Sammy: Seriously, where have you been?
Me: Never mind where the hell I've been. We've got more important things to talk about. Like everyone's attitude and the reason why I left...
Sammy: What are you talking about? You know we're all here for you...
Me: Bullshit! None of you expected me to get far in this tournament, but here I am, about to face off for the World Heavyweight Title. But I'm certain that someone in this room thinks that I don't have a snowball's chance in hell, even though I've broken my ass to get where I am! For eight fucking years, that's all I've fucking heard from everyone else but the people in this room. Now that I've made it to the big stage and I'm on the brink of something great, everyone wants to become those same fucking naysayers that I've been making eat those goddamn words? Un-fucking-acceptable! What do you have to say about it Sammy?
Sammy's face is frozen in shock, as I'm certain he didn't expect that barrage of words to come slamming into him as I walked in the door. After the shock, he starts to try and formulate words to retort, but I had more to say...
Me: Look, I didn't expect to get this far in the Classic, either, but here I am. Now that I'm here, I do not need to hear anymore negativity coming from anybody near me. Not you, or you, or her, for that matter. That tournament and title are the only things worth focusing on right now. Because if I win that damned title and tournament, guess who is no longer under the hold of Seth fucking Lerch? We've got to look at that situation and do our best to get me out of that damn situation! You guys know that I'm booked to work with The Family this upcoming week?
Sammy: Yeah, I...
Me: And do you think I want to work for them? The only good thing about this match is that I get a good long look at the World Champion. That is if he even has the balls to step into the ring and face us. Yeah, he's got Oblivion and Bates as partners in the upcoming week.
Chojun: Brutal!
Me: No shit. And with the partners I have, you think they're willing to keep me safe from these guys? Fuck no! But I'm going to go and face them. Again, with the hopes of getting a good look at the World Champ. If you guys have any help to offer or some advice, I'm all ears. But if you want to offer criticism with no substance, or further negativity, the door is right there. Use it to go back to wherever the fuck else you'd rather be.
An awkward silence followed that last statement, as Sammy raises his hand and says...
Sammy: Look, I'm sorry if what you took from me was nothing but negative. I just didn't want to see you get worked up over this tournament, just to be disappointed later on if it didn't work out in your favor. I've been in a situation like this before, only to have it taken away because of some shit in the back and because people have doubts about your abilities out there.
When we started out, I didn't make some grandiose promises to you. I never told you that you were going to be World Champ, though I did say that you and everyone else in the world has the capacity to become one if they put everything into it. You've done that, but the thing I failed to say is that there have been instances where people give it their all, and its still not good enough. I was one of those people.
Me: I'm not you Sam.
Sammy: I know. But it doesn't make it any easier to see you get there, while I floundered. I mean, look at yourself. Nobody would see a World HEAVYWEIGHT Champion when they see you. But your size has fooled so many in terms of the heart you have. And I've not only failed to see it, but I've even shit on it. And I'm sorry. Sorry because I never got the opportunity that you have now.
That, and on top of all the other shit you got going on with Susan and The Family, I just didn't think it through what I was saying. I just didn't want to see you disappointed.
Me: Sammy, its not like I've never been disappointed before. Trust me, I can handle disappointment. But if this is going to be what I expect from you for the rest of my career, you can go home now...
Sammy: I can't go home now, and you know it. I've got to see some stuff through first. I've gotta help you cement yourself in pro wrestling history here in the WCF first, before I do anything else. Can you handle that?
Chojun speaks up on his own behalf before I could say anything else...
Chojun: James, I love Okinawa. I love being around people I know. I hate America because this is a land of strangers to me. It big and scary. I would have left to go back to Okinawa if I think you were not serious about wrestling. I would have also left if I think you would not benefit from training. If you still want my services, I will stay in this large and scary country for as long as you need me and my training. But I knew before you left how much this match means to you. I will be here for you. But if you no longer want me here, then say the word. I will go back to Okinawa.
I nodded my head to acknowledge what Chojun had said. Ever since I had met Chojun Kyan, he had been very rude to me in general. But he had proven to be quite proficient in submission wrestling and tactics, and I have benefited from his expertise. But I had no clue how much he hated it in America, or the reasons why. In hindsight, America is a much bigger place than Okinawa, and could be construed as a very scary place compared to the tiny island in the East China and Philippine Sea. I then say to both of them...
Me: Look, without the both of you, I wouldn't be here in this situation. Sammy, you've trained me for the last eight years, and I'm grateful you stuck with me when most would've told me to take a hike. Chojun, even you were helpful in getting me past Mikey in the last round. I probably would have been wrapped up and destroyed by Mikey if it wasn't for your training.
I'm grateful to both of you. But now is not the time for any doubts about what I can do inside of that ring. I've got my own doubts about what comes next, but when that is all I hear from everyone is doubts, well, it makes me want to keep driving until I find myself on the Jersey Shore. It makes me want to drink myself into oblivion with a bunch of fake tanned funny talking 20-somethings that make very little sense to me.
Sammy: You went to Jersey?
Me: Atlantic City, to be precise. No gaming, just a lot of staring into the Atlantic and drinking. Wishing I was anywhere else but here in my life.
Chojun: Life is tough. Tougher when you incompetent. But you not incompetent. You can handle this.
Sammy: Chojun's right. Life gets tough sometimes, but when it happens, you got to get tougher. I just hope you're ready for it.
Me: About as ready as I'll ever be...
I looked over at the door where Susan was looking out from, before she closed it completely. I then say to Sammy and Chojun...
Me: Speaking of tough, I still have one more conversation left tonight. Why don't you guys go find a bar or something? I'll catch up to you guys later. Maybe work a strategy for this upcoming match.
Sammy: Just take it easy on her. Remember she cares about you.
I nod, as both of them get up and walk out of the hotel suite. As they do that, Susan opens the door again, and says...
Susan: Atlantic City? That's where you went?
Me: That's just where I wound up. I just kept driving, and before I knew it, I was there, looking into the ocean.
Susan: Glad you could let us know that you were alright. You had us all worried.
Me: Sorry, but the last thing I wanted to do was talk to anybody. Seems like every time I talk to someone, I get reminded of what my chances are going into this match is. It's like nobody but me has any faith in my chances, and I'm sick of hearing all the doubts. From them, and from you. Do you realize just how much that hurts to think that you guys have no faith in me? It's indescribable just how painful it is. Especially from you. My wife and the future mother of our child, thinks that I have no chance in becoming the next World Heavyweight Champion of the World.
Susan: Well, the truth is, I've never wanted this. Any of it. When I first met you, I never thought you'd ever make it this far, and I was alright with that. I didn't want you to.
Me: What are you saying?
Susan: Think about it James! Why do you think I hardly ever went to your matches? I was always afraid for you! I was afraid that one day you were going to get hurt and never be the same person I love again. You could be crippled, or worse. But then you came into the WCF, and you kept winning...
Me: You knew that this was my dream, and you don't want me to have it, now that I'm this fucking close?
Susan: I NEVER THOUGHT IN A MILLION YEARS YOU'D EVER MAKE IT THIS FAR!!! LOOK AT YOURSELF!!! DO YOU SEE A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR?! I MEAN...
Me: I see... You were perfectly okay with me going nowhere in life. But now that I'm doing what I want to do, AGAINST ALL ODDS OF IT ACTUALLY HAPPENING, you... What do I say?
Susan: Say you're going to stop pursuing this infantile dream! Say we're going back to Portland, so you can be a husband and father to me and our child. Without the risk of you becoming a vegetable...
Me: You're asking me to give up my dream, is what you're doing. And I can't do that. Not now, when I'm so fucking close to not only winning the World Title, but also sticking it to these guys that have been fucking with me since I first laced up my wrestling shoes.
I can't walk away, because if I did, just think what the rest of our life is going to be like. I may be safe to be a husband and father, but what kind of husband and father? I can tell you that I'll be unhappy. Unhappy because you took that dream from me when it was this close to me. I'll probably be resentful and angry. Especially going back to the life we once had when I've been in this life. But you've felt this way for years and never bothered to tell me?
Susan: Like I said, I never thought you'd ever get called up to a big promotion like this! I mean, I love you, but I've never loved this pro wrestling. I mean, you've seen and heard what happens to pro wrestlers. Look at Sammy! You want to look and feel like him when your career is done?
Me: THIS IS WHO I AM!!! DEEP DOWN INSIDE, THIS IS WHO I'VE ALWAYS BEEN!!! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW THAT ALL THIS TIME!!! WHY DID YOU STAY WHEN YOU KNEW THIS?!
Susan: I thought you would change!!!
Me: Competitive fighters like me do not EVER CHANGE!!! We find challenges and we confront them! Regardless of the odds or consequences! AND YOU KNEW THAT!
Susan shuddered when I made that final statement. She knew it to be true, but for the first time ever, she couldn't deny it any longer. She then walked to the closet and pulled out her luggage, as she said...
Susan: You're right. I should have known. But now that I can't deny it anymore, I'll get out of your way. I just hope this business doesn't kill you...
Me: So now you're running away. Great. What about us? What about the baby?
Susan: I don't know! I don't know anymore! All I know is that I can't sit around and wait for you to come back broken and bloody anymore! But I'm going home to Portland. Whenever you give up this stupid dream or quest or whatever the hell you call this, I'll be there. No guarantees that I'll be there waiting for you if you ever do!
She starts packing her luggage, as I still process what she just told me.
I had to walk away, for fear that I would say something else that could drive her away. Especially now, considering our relationship was in complete jeopardy of being over. The bad part was that she was the primary reason why I was able to maintain a level of success that I had. She kept me safe, despite what she thought. But with her no longer in my corner, I had no clue what was going to happen next...
I left the room, with the intent of going to the nearest bar and drinking myself into a stupor. Never have I ever been this bad before, but my fledgling alcoholism was getting tested the more and more I continued on this path. Hindsight, but then again, who the hell quits when they're so close to their life goals?
I walk into the WCF Studios, where I'm scheduled to do a shoot promo against the team of Thomas Uriel Bates, Oblivion, and future opponent in the WCF Classic Finals and current World Champion Jeff Purse. I see the cameraman from the week before approach me, albeit I'm not in much of a mood to talk about much of anything. The cameraman approaches me and says...
Cameraman: Hey James! You feeling like a game of chess after this shoot? I've been reading up on how to execute a better Sicilian Defense...
Me: I'm not feeling much of anything in regard to games today.
Cameraman: Yeah, I see that. You doing alright? I mean, last week you were talking about lack of support from your friends and family, and now...
Me: Yeah, my pregnant wife and I are separating, so I'm not doing so hot right now. The thing that pisses me off the most though is that she seemed so supportive over the last 7 years we've been together, only for her to want out right as I get close to the prize at the end of the road. How fucked up is that?
Cameraman: Whoa... I'm sorry to hear that. You want to talk about it? I mean, I'm not an expert on relationships. Who am I kidding? I've been going steady with an alimony payment and child support for two kids that may not even be mine. But I'll talk if you need to...
Me: No, I think I'll just internalize this one for now. You got the scene ready?
Cameraman: Yeah, I thought "Risk" would be a good game to reference your match. Six players, with unofficial alliances made throughout the game. I've played it more than a few times when I was in high school.
Me: Swell. Just let me know when you're ready to start shooting. I wanna get this done and over with quick.
Cameraman: You got it. I'll just be a minute. I'm ready to roll, I just got to set up a bit more...
I let him do his thing, and in a few moments, after setting up his camera, he gave me the signal that he started rolling. But instead of talking about the game Risk, I instead upended the table. The board, the little figurines, the Risk cards, and the dice scatter into the air, as the table crashes to the ground, as I then say what is on my mind...
Me: Normally, this would be the part of this little promo that I shoot where I talk about my match in the form of a game that exists. Like Risk, the game of global domination! But this week, I feel like talking about something else...
You see, I spent 8 excruciating years to get to where I am. Years of drills, practice, and performances to be able to share a wrestling ring with some of the greatest wrestlers that the professional ranks have to offer. And what do I get for all my troubles and work over the years? I get shit on by people in my personal and professional life. And for what? Because of my physical stature? Obviously my physical stature aside, I've done quite well as a professional wrestler in the WCF, despite all odds thrown against me. And for that, I have one person to thank for that opportunity.
Seth Lerch.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Without him taking a chance on me, I would probably still be floundering in some regional promotion still hoping and praying that I'll get a shot at the national and international level. Because for years prior to that, I've had plenty of executives and other bigwig types tell me that I wasn't good enough, or big enough, or whatever they wanted to try and force into my head in an effort to make me want to quit. But not Seth Lerch. And for that, I made a promise to him that I give all of my efforts to be the absolute best that the WCF has to offer.
Granted, I can't say that I have much love for my "Family" brethren. To be quite blunt, I find Dag to be quite insufferable, to the point past offensive. He's a delusional fool that tries to make himself seem better than he actually is. And what can I say about Logan that hasn't already been said? The man is a treacherous menace to the world at large. But here we are again, a "Family Reunion" to say the least. And despite all of our differences, we did work quite well together. The team across from us will have their work cut out for them.
Speaking of that team, let's get down to the nitty gritty of who they are at a core level. I guess I'll start with Bates, since I'm already familiar with him...
Thomas Uriel Bates, the so-called "Savior" of the WCF. Such arrogance coming from the guy who couldn't get the job done in the WCF Classic. And like the WCF wants to be saved by a guy like you to begin with. News flash, the Civil War is over! The South lost. Get the fuck over it, already! But aside from those things, here's my actual problem with you. You come up to me and you tell me how cheap my victory is over you? Fuck you! It's not my fault you couldn't keep your focus! It also isn't my fault you couldn't stay conscious when I slapped Rage Quit on you...
Actually, that IS my fault... Eh...
But you want to talk about cheap? What about when you tried to get physical with me before I stepped into the ring with your so-called DRG brother Mikey eXtreme? Not that I couldn't defend myself, but does the pot call the kettle black in this instance? It does, and you are. You're not the white knight that you make yourself out to be, because you're just as cheap as you make me out to be. And to be an arrogant prick on top of that? Well, you go ahead and maintain that level of arrogance, because if given the opportunity again tonight, you will pay for it. And once again, I will enjoy killing a giant in front of the whole world. Only this time, you will have NOBODY to blame but yourself. And maybe your team.
Speaking of them, we've got the most recent and the latest holder of the World Title across from us this evening. I guess I'll start with Oblivion, and save the best for last...
Oblivion, the once greatly feared monster of the WCF, but now a shadow of his former self. But what should I have expected from a guy who can't even hold on to the World Title for a month? Yes, for all of his accomplishments and achievements that could warrant an entry into the hallowed ground that is the WCF Hall of Fame, he'll be remembered as nothing more than a transitional guy at best when history speaks. Yes, let me quake in my boots at the shell of a man who once commanded respect from the WCF. Especially after the performance he gave against Jeff Purse, when he dogged you like the bitch you've turned into for that title a week after you fought so hard to regain it.
You had the chance to command respect once again, but you've blown that. And now here we are, with you trying to regain your respect. But everyone knows that you're the weak link of your team. Everyone knows you got lucky against Logan. Everyone knows you're just a shell of the man, or monster, that you once were. And when you cross me, just like with Bates, I'll be more than happy to prove that to anybody who's watching.
With that, let's move on to the final competitor of your team, the incumbent and reigning World Champion, Jeff Purse. The obsessive-compulsive jackass of professional wrestling. The reason why I will not be applying any deodorant this evening for our match-up, just an FYI. The guy that beat the transitional guy Oblivion for the World Title, who also happens to be his partner for this evening. I smell potential friction here, don't you? You should, in case that monster comes out to avenge "IT'S" loss of the World Title.
But on a more serious note, barring some sort of catastrophic injury to yourself, it seems you and I have a date at Blast. Don't expect flowers, but maybe a little dancing. As in I dance all over your face come Blast. I guess you could call tonight the rehearsal dance. You get a good look at me, and vice versa. Well, try to keep your arrogance in check, or not. I hope you take me lightly, because I just LOVE that! Ask Bates for those details, though he'll probably just tell you that we're all a bunch of "cheap bastards".
Well cheap or not, we're way more on the same page than your rag-tag team. If anything, your team has only strengthened the resolve of Logan, who's super pissed at losing his title. Sure, you have the opportunity to keep knocking him down more pegs, but can we be realistic about those chances? Between him, Dag, and I, we really do make one hell of a team. It's a damn shame that the Trios Tournament had to be cancelled in order to prove that fact. Tonight, we prove once again why we were the force to be reckoned with, and what better targets than you three to prove it on.
We've already proven we've got game. Let's see what kind of game you bring to us.
I walked off of the set, as the cameraman shuts off the camera. He calls after me about the mess I made, but I don't hear him. If anything, I'm focused on the prize at the end of the rope. One by one, I've dropped several opponents en route to that prize, and at great personal and professional cost. And I refuse to lose my focus now. All my life has brought me to this moment where I lay claim to the World Heavyweight Title, and tonight I stake that irrefutable claim.
The game is mine to win, and I intend to win big...
The headache was going to be explaining to everyone back at the hotel room why I bailed after the last match for a week and bothered not to show up save for my one shoot interview I had with the cameraman. Truth be told, I couldn't take anymore of their negativity, and the week away from everyone proved to be just what I needed. But not just to get away from all the negative, but also to help me think over all of my relationships and the futures of said relationships.
But first, I had to get the hell out of the building. That proved to be rather difficult. The first obstacle that laid in my way was Seth Lerch. For the first time in weeks, he seemed to be his somewhat normal drunken self. Last week, he was as sober as a preacher, or judge, which proved to be quite annoying. Let it be known that a sober Seth is a Seth you really don't want to know. As I passed by him with my gear slung over my shoulder, he says...
Seth: I finally got Logan to come out of the locker room. Everything is back to normal.
Me: You got him out of the locker room, now to get him out of the closet...
Seth: Ha ha. But to show Family dominance is still in existence, I'm booking a six-man tag match with The Family against Oblivion, Bates, and Jeff Purse. And in case you forgot, you're still part of The Family.
Me: How can I forget that detail? You let me know almost everyday that if I don't play ball, I get fired. But this match isn't the worst ever. Gives me a good chance to have a look at the World Champ. The last two, to be precise. Though you really had to put Bates across from us?
Seth: The guy won't shut up about anything related to The Family! He's still super pissed about losing to you in the Classic, and he just hates Logan and Dag with the heat of a thousand suns. Don't know why...
Me: Great. I'll do my best to embarrass him yet again inside of the ring.
Seth: Looking forward to it! Don't let me down next week! Logan's been looking for you, by the way...
Me: Yeah, I'll go see him right now...
Seth smiled and walked away, as I continued in the direction I was going to begin with. Logan can wait, but this confrontation with my own personal relationships could not.
I continued walking to the rented Buick that has started to become more of a personal vehicle than an actual rental. The back seat was pretty comfortable whenever I didn't feel the urge to rent a room, if only to stay off of the grid. I popped the trunk with the keys and tossed my gear into the trunk, before closing it and getting into the driver's seat. I started the car, as I saw movement behind me in the rear-view mirror. As I looked to investigate, I heard a click of what I assmed was a pistol, before it was pressed on the side of my face, before a familiar voice says...
Dennis Kincaid: Don't turn around, just listen. We tasked you with a mission, which you have yet to provide any viable information that can serve us and our mission...
Me: What part of "not my job to do your job" did you not...
I got hit in the back of the head with something cold and blunt. Probably the butt of the pistol this asshole was holding on me, as he says...
Dennis Kincaid: This is my turn to talk, not yours. Anyways, since you've basically refused to play any games, we've lost contact with you. So now I've been forced to communicate with you via alternative methods. There's a phone on the passenger side seat in which we will contact you. If you do not answer it, we come find you and we get whatever information we want from you. Regardless of the situation you find yourself in. It could be at an autograph session, or while you're working with that new Jap trainer. Whenever we feel it necessary to talk. And believe me, we will make it as awkward as we can make it. Play ball, or we're going to hit you where it hurts.
Oh, I cannot wait to beat the fuck out of this guy, if it ever presents itself. I will shit in his mouth when it's over, just to let him know what it feels like to have to deal with this asshole. But I refrain from saying this, instead saying...
Me: Well, I got good news. I got a match next week with Dag as my partner. We'll be working together again, if only for a week. Last week, he got brutalized pretty bad. Bad enough I figured he was going to be spending a few days in a hospital. Hence why I figured you guys would be there to hold his hand while I healed from the assault Bates laid on him.
Dennis Kincaid: That's your job, not mine...
Me: I'm not getting paid for my services, so this is not a job I care to want.
Dennis Kincaid: Do you realize just how badly I can make your life suck? Or anybody else close to you? I thought I made that clear the last time we spoke in person...
Me: You did. You also told me to act natural. Being a racist piece of shit asshole is NOT how I act normal. Me suddenly changing my mannerisms would throw some huge red flags, you ass. Did you pick me because you thought I would be that guy for you? Or was it because I actually have people I give a shit about?
Look, this week I'll be working with Dag, so I'll call you and tell you about it. But right now, I got more important shit to deal with than your mission that you should be doing yourself, rather than pawning off on someone else that has no fucking clue on how to do whatever it is you really want me to do.
Dennis Kincaid: This isn't brain surgery. Just tell me where he goes, what he's doing when you're around. If you find his effects, look through them to see if anything out of the ordinary appears. Pictures would be nice. But you avoid me again, I will get meaner than just hiding out in the back of your rental waiting for a conversation that could have happened on a different format. You catch what I'm tossing?
Me: Yes, I get it.
Dennis Kincaid: Good...
I hear the door open, and he steps out of it and briskly walks away from the car after slamming the door behind him. It dawns on me that I could just whack the fucking bastard right here and now. His fingerprints and all sorts of stuff of his has got to be in this car. I could justify this as a struggle and a citizen's arrest. Hell, to sell it, I could slam myself onto the ground, maybe give myself a scrape or two...
Instead, I think to myself that somewhere I'd miss something and get charged with running down a federal agent. Especially if he's written me into anything official. I instead adjust my rear-view mirror once again and back out of the parking space. I drive in the opposite direction towards the parking lot exit.
Maybe tonight was the night to throw out my verbal haymakers. If anything, it may get some people out of the wake of danger this guy is just dragging to my front door...
Sammy: Where the hell have you been man? We were worried!
This was my greeting when I came through the door, as Sammy and Chojun were sitting in front of a computer watching the most recent episode of Slam. It was right at the point where we had won the match, but Chambers blindsided both myself and Stuart Slane in the middle of the ring. Chojun says in his Okinawan accent...
Chojun: You miss out on very valuable training time. My time is very valuable...
Susan came into the room from the bedroom we'd been sharing for the last several weeks, dressed in a large overshirt, as she says...
Susan: Oh thank God. Where have you been?
Me: I've been away because I needed to get away from all the negative, but it wasn't wasted time. Sue, we need to talk. I need to talk to all of you, actually, but Sue, we're going to talk privately. Can you wait in the bedroom for me?
She doesn't look pleased at the request, but she nods her head and walks back into the bedroom as she holds her stomach. Sammy then asks again...
Sammy: Seriously, where have you been?
Me: Never mind where the hell I've been. We've got more important things to talk about. Like everyone's attitude and the reason why I left...
Sammy: What are you talking about? You know we're all here for you...
Me: Bullshit! None of you expected me to get far in this tournament, but here I am, about to face off for the World Heavyweight Title. But I'm certain that someone in this room thinks that I don't have a snowball's chance in hell, even though I've broken my ass to get where I am! For eight fucking years, that's all I've fucking heard from everyone else but the people in this room. Now that I've made it to the big stage and I'm on the brink of something great, everyone wants to become those same fucking naysayers that I've been making eat those goddamn words? Un-fucking-acceptable! What do you have to say about it Sammy?
Sammy's face is frozen in shock, as I'm certain he didn't expect that barrage of words to come slamming into him as I walked in the door. After the shock, he starts to try and formulate words to retort, but I had more to say...
Me: Look, I didn't expect to get this far in the Classic, either, but here I am. Now that I'm here, I do not need to hear anymore negativity coming from anybody near me. Not you, or you, or her, for that matter. That tournament and title are the only things worth focusing on right now. Because if I win that damned title and tournament, guess who is no longer under the hold of Seth fucking Lerch? We've got to look at that situation and do our best to get me out of that damn situation! You guys know that I'm booked to work with The Family this upcoming week?
Sammy: Yeah, I...
Me: And do you think I want to work for them? The only good thing about this match is that I get a good long look at the World Champion. That is if he even has the balls to step into the ring and face us. Yeah, he's got Oblivion and Bates as partners in the upcoming week.
Chojun: Brutal!
Me: No shit. And with the partners I have, you think they're willing to keep me safe from these guys? Fuck no! But I'm going to go and face them. Again, with the hopes of getting a good look at the World Champ. If you guys have any help to offer or some advice, I'm all ears. But if you want to offer criticism with no substance, or further negativity, the door is right there. Use it to go back to wherever the fuck else you'd rather be.
An awkward silence followed that last statement, as Sammy raises his hand and says...
Sammy: Look, I'm sorry if what you took from me was nothing but negative. I just didn't want to see you get worked up over this tournament, just to be disappointed later on if it didn't work out in your favor. I've been in a situation like this before, only to have it taken away because of some shit in the back and because people have doubts about your abilities out there.
When we started out, I didn't make some grandiose promises to you. I never told you that you were going to be World Champ, though I did say that you and everyone else in the world has the capacity to become one if they put everything into it. You've done that, but the thing I failed to say is that there have been instances where people give it their all, and its still not good enough. I was one of those people.
Me: I'm not you Sam.
Sammy: I know. But it doesn't make it any easier to see you get there, while I floundered. I mean, look at yourself. Nobody would see a World HEAVYWEIGHT Champion when they see you. But your size has fooled so many in terms of the heart you have. And I've not only failed to see it, but I've even shit on it. And I'm sorry. Sorry because I never got the opportunity that you have now.
That, and on top of all the other shit you got going on with Susan and The Family, I just didn't think it through what I was saying. I just didn't want to see you disappointed.
Me: Sammy, its not like I've never been disappointed before. Trust me, I can handle disappointment. But if this is going to be what I expect from you for the rest of my career, you can go home now...
Sammy: I can't go home now, and you know it. I've got to see some stuff through first. I've gotta help you cement yourself in pro wrestling history here in the WCF first, before I do anything else. Can you handle that?
Chojun speaks up on his own behalf before I could say anything else...
Chojun: James, I love Okinawa. I love being around people I know. I hate America because this is a land of strangers to me. It big and scary. I would have left to go back to Okinawa if I think you were not serious about wrestling. I would have also left if I think you would not benefit from training. If you still want my services, I will stay in this large and scary country for as long as you need me and my training. But I knew before you left how much this match means to you. I will be here for you. But if you no longer want me here, then say the word. I will go back to Okinawa.
I nodded my head to acknowledge what Chojun had said. Ever since I had met Chojun Kyan, he had been very rude to me in general. But he had proven to be quite proficient in submission wrestling and tactics, and I have benefited from his expertise. But I had no clue how much he hated it in America, or the reasons why. In hindsight, America is a much bigger place than Okinawa, and could be construed as a very scary place compared to the tiny island in the East China and Philippine Sea. I then say to both of them...
Me: Look, without the both of you, I wouldn't be here in this situation. Sammy, you've trained me for the last eight years, and I'm grateful you stuck with me when most would've told me to take a hike. Chojun, even you were helpful in getting me past Mikey in the last round. I probably would have been wrapped up and destroyed by Mikey if it wasn't for your training.
I'm grateful to both of you. But now is not the time for any doubts about what I can do inside of that ring. I've got my own doubts about what comes next, but when that is all I hear from everyone is doubts, well, it makes me want to keep driving until I find myself on the Jersey Shore. It makes me want to drink myself into oblivion with a bunch of fake tanned funny talking 20-somethings that make very little sense to me.
Sammy: You went to Jersey?
Me: Atlantic City, to be precise. No gaming, just a lot of staring into the Atlantic and drinking. Wishing I was anywhere else but here in my life.
Chojun: Life is tough. Tougher when you incompetent. But you not incompetent. You can handle this.
Sammy: Chojun's right. Life gets tough sometimes, but when it happens, you got to get tougher. I just hope you're ready for it.
Me: About as ready as I'll ever be...
I looked over at the door where Susan was looking out from, before she closed it completely. I then say to Sammy and Chojun...
Me: Speaking of tough, I still have one more conversation left tonight. Why don't you guys go find a bar or something? I'll catch up to you guys later. Maybe work a strategy for this upcoming match.
Sammy: Just take it easy on her. Remember she cares about you.
I nod, as both of them get up and walk out of the hotel suite. As they do that, Susan opens the door again, and says...
Susan: Atlantic City? That's where you went?
Me: That's just where I wound up. I just kept driving, and before I knew it, I was there, looking into the ocean.
Susan: Glad you could let us know that you were alright. You had us all worried.
Me: Sorry, but the last thing I wanted to do was talk to anybody. Seems like every time I talk to someone, I get reminded of what my chances are going into this match is. It's like nobody but me has any faith in my chances, and I'm sick of hearing all the doubts. From them, and from you. Do you realize just how much that hurts to think that you guys have no faith in me? It's indescribable just how painful it is. Especially from you. My wife and the future mother of our child, thinks that I have no chance in becoming the next World Heavyweight Champion of the World.
Susan: Well, the truth is, I've never wanted this. Any of it. When I first met you, I never thought you'd ever make it this far, and I was alright with that. I didn't want you to.
Me: What are you saying?
Susan: Think about it James! Why do you think I hardly ever went to your matches? I was always afraid for you! I was afraid that one day you were going to get hurt and never be the same person I love again. You could be crippled, or worse. But then you came into the WCF, and you kept winning...
Me: You knew that this was my dream, and you don't want me to have it, now that I'm this fucking close?
Susan: I NEVER THOUGHT IN A MILLION YEARS YOU'D EVER MAKE IT THIS FAR!!! LOOK AT YOURSELF!!! DO YOU SEE A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR?! I MEAN...
Me: I see... You were perfectly okay with me going nowhere in life. But now that I'm doing what I want to do, AGAINST ALL ODDS OF IT ACTUALLY HAPPENING, you... What do I say?
Susan: Say you're going to stop pursuing this infantile dream! Say we're going back to Portland, so you can be a husband and father to me and our child. Without the risk of you becoming a vegetable...
Me: You're asking me to give up my dream, is what you're doing. And I can't do that. Not now, when I'm so fucking close to not only winning the World Title, but also sticking it to these guys that have been fucking with me since I first laced up my wrestling shoes.
I can't walk away, because if I did, just think what the rest of our life is going to be like. I may be safe to be a husband and father, but what kind of husband and father? I can tell you that I'll be unhappy. Unhappy because you took that dream from me when it was this close to me. I'll probably be resentful and angry. Especially going back to the life we once had when I've been in this life. But you've felt this way for years and never bothered to tell me?
Susan: Like I said, I never thought you'd ever get called up to a big promotion like this! I mean, I love you, but I've never loved this pro wrestling. I mean, you've seen and heard what happens to pro wrestlers. Look at Sammy! You want to look and feel like him when your career is done?
Me: THIS IS WHO I AM!!! DEEP DOWN INSIDE, THIS IS WHO I'VE ALWAYS BEEN!!! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW THAT ALL THIS TIME!!! WHY DID YOU STAY WHEN YOU KNEW THIS?!
Susan: I thought you would change!!!
Me: Competitive fighters like me do not EVER CHANGE!!! We find challenges and we confront them! Regardless of the odds or consequences! AND YOU KNEW THAT!
Susan shuddered when I made that final statement. She knew it to be true, but for the first time ever, she couldn't deny it any longer. She then walked to the closet and pulled out her luggage, as she said...
Susan: You're right. I should have known. But now that I can't deny it anymore, I'll get out of your way. I just hope this business doesn't kill you...
Me: So now you're running away. Great. What about us? What about the baby?
Susan: I don't know! I don't know anymore! All I know is that I can't sit around and wait for you to come back broken and bloody anymore! But I'm going home to Portland. Whenever you give up this stupid dream or quest or whatever the hell you call this, I'll be there. No guarantees that I'll be there waiting for you if you ever do!
She starts packing her luggage, as I still process what she just told me.
I had to walk away, for fear that I would say something else that could drive her away. Especially now, considering our relationship was in complete jeopardy of being over. The bad part was that she was the primary reason why I was able to maintain a level of success that I had. She kept me safe, despite what she thought. But with her no longer in my corner, I had no clue what was going to happen next...
I left the room, with the intent of going to the nearest bar and drinking myself into a stupor. Never have I ever been this bad before, but my fledgling alcoholism was getting tested the more and more I continued on this path. Hindsight, but then again, who the hell quits when they're so close to their life goals?
I walk into the WCF Studios, where I'm scheduled to do a shoot promo against the team of Thomas Uriel Bates, Oblivion, and future opponent in the WCF Classic Finals and current World Champion Jeff Purse. I see the cameraman from the week before approach me, albeit I'm not in much of a mood to talk about much of anything. The cameraman approaches me and says...
Cameraman: Hey James! You feeling like a game of chess after this shoot? I've been reading up on how to execute a better Sicilian Defense...
Me: I'm not feeling much of anything in regard to games today.
Cameraman: Yeah, I see that. You doing alright? I mean, last week you were talking about lack of support from your friends and family, and now...
Me: Yeah, my pregnant wife and I are separating, so I'm not doing so hot right now. The thing that pisses me off the most though is that she seemed so supportive over the last 7 years we've been together, only for her to want out right as I get close to the prize at the end of the road. How fucked up is that?
Cameraman: Whoa... I'm sorry to hear that. You want to talk about it? I mean, I'm not an expert on relationships. Who am I kidding? I've been going steady with an alimony payment and child support for two kids that may not even be mine. But I'll talk if you need to...
Me: No, I think I'll just internalize this one for now. You got the scene ready?
Cameraman: Yeah, I thought "Risk" would be a good game to reference your match. Six players, with unofficial alliances made throughout the game. I've played it more than a few times when I was in high school.
Me: Swell. Just let me know when you're ready to start shooting. I wanna get this done and over with quick.
Cameraman: You got it. I'll just be a minute. I'm ready to roll, I just got to set up a bit more...
I let him do his thing, and in a few moments, after setting up his camera, he gave me the signal that he started rolling. But instead of talking about the game Risk, I instead upended the table. The board, the little figurines, the Risk cards, and the dice scatter into the air, as the table crashes to the ground, as I then say what is on my mind...
Me: Normally, this would be the part of this little promo that I shoot where I talk about my match in the form of a game that exists. Like Risk, the game of global domination! But this week, I feel like talking about something else...
You see, I spent 8 excruciating years to get to where I am. Years of drills, practice, and performances to be able to share a wrestling ring with some of the greatest wrestlers that the professional ranks have to offer. And what do I get for all my troubles and work over the years? I get shit on by people in my personal and professional life. And for what? Because of my physical stature? Obviously my physical stature aside, I've done quite well as a professional wrestler in the WCF, despite all odds thrown against me. And for that, I have one person to thank for that opportunity.
Seth Lerch.
Yes, you heard me correctly. Without him taking a chance on me, I would probably still be floundering in some regional promotion still hoping and praying that I'll get a shot at the national and international level. Because for years prior to that, I've had plenty of executives and other bigwig types tell me that I wasn't good enough, or big enough, or whatever they wanted to try and force into my head in an effort to make me want to quit. But not Seth Lerch. And for that, I made a promise to him that I give all of my efforts to be the absolute best that the WCF has to offer.
Granted, I can't say that I have much love for my "Family" brethren. To be quite blunt, I find Dag to be quite insufferable, to the point past offensive. He's a delusional fool that tries to make himself seem better than he actually is. And what can I say about Logan that hasn't already been said? The man is a treacherous menace to the world at large. But here we are again, a "Family Reunion" to say the least. And despite all of our differences, we did work quite well together. The team across from us will have their work cut out for them.
Speaking of that team, let's get down to the nitty gritty of who they are at a core level. I guess I'll start with Bates, since I'm already familiar with him...
Thomas Uriel Bates, the so-called "Savior" of the WCF. Such arrogance coming from the guy who couldn't get the job done in the WCF Classic. And like the WCF wants to be saved by a guy like you to begin with. News flash, the Civil War is over! The South lost. Get the fuck over it, already! But aside from those things, here's my actual problem with you. You come up to me and you tell me how cheap my victory is over you? Fuck you! It's not my fault you couldn't keep your focus! It also isn't my fault you couldn't stay conscious when I slapped Rage Quit on you...
Actually, that IS my fault... Eh...
But you want to talk about cheap? What about when you tried to get physical with me before I stepped into the ring with your so-called DRG brother Mikey eXtreme? Not that I couldn't defend myself, but does the pot call the kettle black in this instance? It does, and you are. You're not the white knight that you make yourself out to be, because you're just as cheap as you make me out to be. And to be an arrogant prick on top of that? Well, you go ahead and maintain that level of arrogance, because if given the opportunity again tonight, you will pay for it. And once again, I will enjoy killing a giant in front of the whole world. Only this time, you will have NOBODY to blame but yourself. And maybe your team.
Speaking of them, we've got the most recent and the latest holder of the World Title across from us this evening. I guess I'll start with Oblivion, and save the best for last...
Oblivion, the once greatly feared monster of the WCF, but now a shadow of his former self. But what should I have expected from a guy who can't even hold on to the World Title for a month? Yes, for all of his accomplishments and achievements that could warrant an entry into the hallowed ground that is the WCF Hall of Fame, he'll be remembered as nothing more than a transitional guy at best when history speaks. Yes, let me quake in my boots at the shell of a man who once commanded respect from the WCF. Especially after the performance he gave against Jeff Purse, when he dogged you like the bitch you've turned into for that title a week after you fought so hard to regain it.
You had the chance to command respect once again, but you've blown that. And now here we are, with you trying to regain your respect. But everyone knows that you're the weak link of your team. Everyone knows you got lucky against Logan. Everyone knows you're just a shell of the man, or monster, that you once were. And when you cross me, just like with Bates, I'll be more than happy to prove that to anybody who's watching.
With that, let's move on to the final competitor of your team, the incumbent and reigning World Champion, Jeff Purse. The obsessive-compulsive jackass of professional wrestling. The reason why I will not be applying any deodorant this evening for our match-up, just an FYI. The guy that beat the transitional guy Oblivion for the World Title, who also happens to be his partner for this evening. I smell potential friction here, don't you? You should, in case that monster comes out to avenge "IT'S" loss of the World Title.
But on a more serious note, barring some sort of catastrophic injury to yourself, it seems you and I have a date at Blast. Don't expect flowers, but maybe a little dancing. As in I dance all over your face come Blast. I guess you could call tonight the rehearsal dance. You get a good look at me, and vice versa. Well, try to keep your arrogance in check, or not. I hope you take me lightly, because I just LOVE that! Ask Bates for those details, though he'll probably just tell you that we're all a bunch of "cheap bastards".
Well cheap or not, we're way more on the same page than your rag-tag team. If anything, your team has only strengthened the resolve of Logan, who's super pissed at losing his title. Sure, you have the opportunity to keep knocking him down more pegs, but can we be realistic about those chances? Between him, Dag, and I, we really do make one hell of a team. It's a damn shame that the Trios Tournament had to be cancelled in order to prove that fact. Tonight, we prove once again why we were the force to be reckoned with, and what better targets than you three to prove it on.
We've already proven we've got game. Let's see what kind of game you bring to us.
I walked off of the set, as the cameraman shuts off the camera. He calls after me about the mess I made, but I don't hear him. If anything, I'm focused on the prize at the end of the rope. One by one, I've dropped several opponents en route to that prize, and at great personal and professional cost. And I refuse to lose my focus now. All my life has brought me to this moment where I lay claim to the World Heavyweight Title, and tonight I stake that irrefutable claim.
The game is mine to win, and I intend to win big...
