337

[Cliff of Doom]

I’m running through an airport again.

But this time, I’m not running to make a flight. I made my flight from Kentucky after Slam and I got home at the right time. I see Tina in the terminal waiting for me. We share a quick greeting.

Cliff: Hi!

Tina: Hi!

She starts running with me and we make our way out to the car. I throw my bag in the backseat and get in. She drives. I don’t drive with her in the car. I suck at driving and it leads to too many fights.

Cliff: I won again.

Tina: I know. I watched.

Cliff: I pinned Teddy Blaze.

Tina: Is that a big deal?

Cliff: Yeah. He’s one of the most respected guys in the locker room and the Internet Champion.

Tina: Oh, well, congratulations.

Cliff: You don’t sound that excited.

Tina: I’m sorry. I’m tired. It’s 2:00 in the morning.

Yeah, I guess I should just understand and shut my mouth.

Tina: So, you ready for tomorrow?

She’s talking about my classroom observation with Dr. Coleman, which takes place in about six hours. After my awkward bathroom meeting with the boss, I spent every free moment I had at work the rest of the week getting ready for Coleman to give me my formal classroom observation. We met on Friday to talk about the lesson he was going to see. I showed him the lesson plan and all the materials that went with it. I told him what the goal of the lesson was and the essential things the students needed to know. I think I answered his questions to his satisfaction, but I was still nervous as shit, and I still am as I think about him watching me teach the first period of the day. I just finished wrestling another Fatal Four-Way that included two current champions and taking a four hour plane ride from Kentucky. I’m going to get about two hours of sleep and then I’ll have to teach the lesson of my life against a principal that has had it out for me ever since day one.

My union rep, Malcolm, was right. I’ve been giving reasons to be on Coleman’s radar all this time. Besides getting ready for the observation, I made sure I did everything by the book. My prep periods, I never left my computer. I didn’t read during my hall duty. I made sure I was in the hallway between every period. Scrutinizing every one of your own moves is tiring, even more tiring than wrestling.

I get home, take a quick shower, and hop into bed. I don’t get two hours for sleep. I get about half an hour. I’m just too nervous to sleep. I keep thinking about the observation. I have to do well. If I can just show the guy that I am a good teacher, he’ll take the target off of my back. I may be a fuck up, but I know at least that I can teach well. He’s just got to see that.

And Tina has to see that I can handle this crazy life that I’m trying to live.

Around 5:40, I’m dressed and ready to go.

Tina: Good luck.

I stop and look at her before I head out the door. Despite wishing me luck, I know she has her doubts. After what I’ve put her through the last month, I would doubt me, too.

Cliff: Honey…

Why try to plead my case? What will talking do? I’ve got to show her that she has no reason to worry by hitting this observation out of the park.

Cliff: I’ll see you later. I love you.

Tina: Love you, too.

I nod my head once. I’m out the door. Go time.

---

Kyle Steel: Ladies and gentlemen, this classroom observation is schedule for one period with a forty minute time limit. Introducing first, already in the classroom, from Selden, NY, weighing in at 190 pounds, Cliff McManus!

The crowd cheers.

Zach Davis: Freddie, I’m really looking forward to this one. McManus has been having a tough go of it here at South Bay Middle School over the last three weeks. A good showing in this observation just might help save his career.

Freddie Whoa: Well, he’s doing things the right way from the start. He’s out in the hallway greeting the students.

Kyle Steel: His opponent, coming down the hallway, from Franklin Square, NY, weighing in at 230 pounds, Dr. J. Mychal Coleman!

Freddie Whoa: And here he comes, Zach: the big guy. The man. The boss. The…

Zach Davis: We get it, Freddie. He’s the principal.

Dr. Coleman walks up to Cliff.

Dr. Coleman: Good morning, Mr. McManus.

Cliff: Good morning, Dr. Coleman.

Dr. Coleman: Where’s a good place for me to sit?

Cliff: Please, take my desk.

Dr. Coleman: Alright. I’m looking forward to this. See you inside.

Zach Davis: Let’s look at the tale of the tape. McManus is an eight year veteran in the classroom. He earned his BA in Adolescent Social Studies with a concentration in History from the State University of New York at Cortland and a Masters Degree from Long Island University, C.W. Post Campus. Coleman has been an educator since 2002. He holds three degrees, the most recent one being his Doctorate in Education, which he earned at Dowling College and is an author of two books on education. South Bay Middle School is his first building as a head principal.

Freddie Whoa: Didn’t Dowling College shut down?

Zach Davis: That’s beside the point, Freddie.

The bell to begin class rings.

Zach Davis: And here we go.

Cliff takes attendance and then walks around the room to make sure the students are completing their “do now” assignment.

Zach Davis: Cliff is doing a good thing here. He’s walking around the room making sure the kids are staying on task.

After two minutes, Cliff goes over the question to the “do now” assignment with the students.

Cliff: Okay, kids. The “do now” question was “What is curiosity?” Hands up, who can answer the question? Essence.

Essence: Curiosity means that you’re interested in something.

Cliff: Excellent. Now, hands-free question. What is an example of curiosity?

Zach Davis: What a sequence of moves there, Freddie. He’s using his patented “hands up, hands-free” method of asking questions. “Hands up” is for the students who raise their hands to answer a question and “hands-free” means that he will pick any student regardless of who wants to volunteer their answer. It really makes sure that every student in the class is held accountable, not just a few.

Freddie Whoa: And he followed up Essence’s answer by asking a higher order question, asking for an example of the word “curiosity.”

Zach Davis: Dr. Coleman is taking notes. You think he’s writing anything good?

Freddie: I hope so.

After a student gives an example of the word “curiosity,” Cliff transitions right into the next part of the lesson.

Cliff: I wanted to talk about the word “curiosity” because curiosity had a big effect on my life.

Zach Davis: Now it’s time for the opening hook of the lesson. This is one of his best stories.

Cliff: How many of you are the oldest child with an annoying younger sibling.

Some students raise their hands.

Cliff: Now how many of you are the annoying older sibling?

Some students raise their hand. Cliff raises his, too.

Cliff: I am the annoying younger brother. I have an older sister, Carrie. When I was five, I do what most younger brothers do- I snuck into her bedroom when she wasn’t home.

Some giggles from the class.

Cliff: I was trying to find something in her room to get her in trouble. I didn’t find anything, but as I was walking out, I looked towards her bookshelf and I saw this book.

He holds a small book in the air.

Cliff: Meet Mr. President. The man on the cover is President George H.W. Bush, who was the president at the time and whose son was President George W. Bush. The book gives details about every president from Washington on up to the first President Bush. I didn’t read every page. In fact, I was just interested in which number president each man was. After a few weeks, I realized that I had memorized every single president in order from the first to the last.

A student calls out “Can you really?”

Cliff: Raise your hand, please, if you have a question.

Freddie Whoa: It’s great that he reinforced the rules of the class as soon as the student called out.

The student raises his hand. When he’s called on, he asks the same question.

Cliff: Yes, I’ll show you at the end of class.

Zach Davis: These kids are excited now. You better believe he’ll have their attention so that they can hear him show off his talent at the end of the class.

Cliff: Anyway, my natural interest in the presidents causes my parents to start bringing me to different presidential sites all over the country, including homes, gravesites, birthplaces, museum, you name it, I’ve been there.

Freddie Whoa: Dr. Coleman looks impressed.

Cliff: And visiting all those places made me interested in American history in school. And when it was time to go to college, naturally, I studied history. And when I decided what I wanted to do with my life, I decided I wanted to talk about history every day, which is what brought me to where I am today.

A student raises their hand.

Cliff: Yes, Jason.

Jason: When did you decide you wanted to be a wrestler?

Zach Davis: I don’t think Cliff wants to talk about that part of his childhood.

Cliff: You know, Jason, I have a lot of interests in life. While I was interested in presidents, I was interested in wrestling, too.

Jason: Which one do you like more- teaching history or wrestling?

Freddie Whoa: Well, this is an awkward moment. He doesn't want to let on that he likes wrestling more. Dr. Coleman looks interested to see how Cliff answers this.

Cliff: I…like both of them equally.

Zach Davis: Well, that was the safe answer, but it’s the best he could do on his feet.

Cliff: So, where did it all start for me? What led me to being here doing this great thing I am doing right now. Yes, Francine.

Francine: Sneaking into your sister’s room and trying to find something.

Cliff: Yes, very good! I was “curious.” I was “curious” to find something and I discovered this little book about the presidents, which had a huge impact on my life. That’s what exploration was like. Europeans were curious about the world outside of Europe and they wanted to see what they could find. And just like this little book led to good things in my life, exploration, their curiosity, led to some good things for the world, but sometimes curiosity can lead to some bad things, and there were some bad effects of exploration. What I want to talk about today are some of the things that made Europeans curious about exploration.

Freddie Whoa: The kids look intrigued now to learn about the causes of exploration. So far, so good.

Cliff continues with the lesson. The students copy down their notes on the long term and immediate causes of exploration.

Zach Davis: Okay, now it’s time to take it to the next level.

Cliff: On the back of your notes, I want you to draw a line down the middle of the paper. On one side, I want you to write down the words “long term causes” and on the other side, write “immediate causes.” Once you do that, I want you to categorize the six causes we talked about as either “long term causes” or “immediate causes.” Let’s try some together and then I’ll let you try on your own.

Zach Davis: Good idea. Some kids won’t understand what to do right away, so it’s good to show them what to do. He’s really taking an active part in their learning with this lesson.

After going over some examples with the kids, they complete the rest of the activity themselves and he goes over it with them.

Freddie Whoa: Alright, moment of truth. Did they understand the lesson?

Cliff: Now, write your name on a separate sheet of paper. You’re going to hand this next activity in. I want you to write down the definitions of long term and immediate causes and explain one long term and immediate cause of exploration.

The kids complete the assignment and pass it up to the front of their rows for Cliff to collect.

Cliff: And now, since you were so good and because I said I would do it, I will name all of the presidents, from 1 to 44, in order.

He takes a poster of the presidents out of the tall metal closet on the far side of the room and gives it to a student to verify that he’s correct.

Cliff: Okay, here we go.

He starts to list the presidents in rapid fire succession.

Cliff: George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, James Monroe, John Quincy Adams, Andrew Jackson…

And so on and so forth until Barack Obama.

Freddie Whoa: WHOA!

The kids applaud.

Zach Davis: Look at how impressed Dr. Coleman is!

The bell rings to end the class. The students file out and Cliff meets Dr. Coleman at the door.

Dr. Coleman: Mr. McManus, that was supremely enjoyable. I’m looking forward to speaking with you for the post-observation conference tomorrow. Good job.

Dr. Coleman extends his hand. Cliff shakes it.

Dr. Coleman: Have a good day.

Dr. Coleman walks out into the hallway.

Zach Davis: Look at the smile on Cliff’s face!

Kyle Steel: The winner of this classroom observation, Cliff McManus!

“No Leaf Clover” plays.

Cliff closes the door to the classroom, stands on his desk, and poses for the imaginary crowd by raising his hands in the air.

---

Five periods later, I’m eating my lunch in my classroom. Tina walks in.

Tina: How did it go?

She looks nervous for my answer. I make her wait to increase her anticipation.

Cliff: It was…GREAT!

Tina: Oh, thank God!

She gives me a hug and a kiss.

Tina: I’m so happy. I’ve got to run. I just wanted to stop in and see what happened. We’ll talk later.

She walks out of my room with a completely different visage than she had this morning.

I come home right after school is over and collapse right onto my bed. I take a nap. Two hours later, I’m woken up by Tina.

Tina: Honey, wake up. Dinner’s ready.

Cliff: Huh? Um, okay. I’ll be right there.

I walk out and find a spread of burritos and beer on the dinner table. It’s like Christmas in September.

Cliff: What is this?

Tina: I picked up some Moe’s and a six pack of Miller Lite.

Cliff: Why? For what?

Tina: Because you’ve been on a winning streak in the WCF and because you rocked your observation today. I’m really proud of you, babe.

I love this woman.

Cliff: Honey, this is wonderful. Thank you so much. This was really nice of you.

I give her a kiss and take a seat.

We dig in to the food and drinks. I haven’t eaten like this since I started training to be a wrestler. I deserved this. I better enjoy it now because starting tomorrow, I have to turn the training up to 11 to get ready for War.

Throughout the dinner, Tina and I get a little buzzed. Then, she gets an idea.

Tina: You know, I haven’t heard you speak yet.

Cliff: What?

Tina: You know, like a wrestler.

Cliff: You mean, you haven’t heard me cut a promo yet?

Tina: Right, a promo.

Cliff: Yeah, Johnny didn’t really stress those and I haven’t been given TV time yet to do one on Slam.

Tina: Let’s practice right now.

Cliff: Okay. Right here at the dinner table?

Tina: No, let’s go into the living room.

We walk to the living room and I stand up against one of the walls.

Cliff: Um, so, what do you want me to say?

Tina: I don’t know. What do wrestlers say?

Cliff: Well, I could talk about the War Match that’s coming up in two weeks.

Tina: Okay, go for it.

She sits on the couch like she was watching a TV show.

Cliff: Alright. Um, uh…

Tina: Wait, don’t say anything yet. You need to look like a wrestler. Where’s your gear?

Cliff: Babe, you don’t want me wearing that right now. It needs to be washed.

Tina: Well, you don’t look like a wrestler in your teaching clothes. Strip down to your underwear.

I giggle a bit.

Cliff: Seriously?

Tina: Yeah! Do it!

I’m happy to oblige. I strip to my red boxers.

Tina: Wait, let me get my phone.

She runs to the bedroom.

Cliff: Oka- wait, what? Honey, no.

She returns.

Tina: Come on, don’t you want to hear yourself?

Cliff: Yeah, I guess, but don’t put this on Facebook. That’s the last thing I need- a viral video of me cutting promos in my underwear after a few beers.

She starts recording me.

Tina: Okay, so who’s in the War Match.

Cliff: Um…shit, a lot of guys. Pause that for a second. I’ve got to write them all down.

She pauses the video. I get a pen and paper and go to the official War website, where I find the participants and write down their names.

Cliff: Okay, you hold this while you record me so I know who to talk about.

Tina: Alright. Oh my God, this is going to be so funny.

Cliff: Babe, this is a really important match. I win this, I get a shot at the World Title. I win the World Title, we don't ever have to worry about money, or buying a house, or having enough money to support a baby, or anything ever again.

She sees how serious I am and seems to quietly agree with me.

Tina: I’m sorry. Okay, let’s be serious.

She holds in a giggle.

Cliff: Alright, whatever. Let’s do this.

She starts the video again.

Cliff: Okay, who’s first?

I look at the list. Who’s first? Joe Smarts.

Cliff: Joe Smarts, Joe Smarts

I think about my past history with Joe Smarts and the right words to say.

Then it comes to me.

Cliff: Joe Smarts, I already beat you once and your team lost in the last Slam. It just goes to show that there are no great Australian athletes who compete in the United States. It’s true. I looked it up when I was researching you for our first encounter. I found great Australian athletes who compete in Australia, but none in America. You, my friend, are just continuing the trend, with War being the latest chapter.

You’re all about brains, but that’s not enough. You need to use your mind AND your body, especially in a physically demanding match like War. But it’s not your focus on your brains that is going to be your downfall at War. No, the real problem is that you don’t take wrestling seriously. You don’t act like it’s the only thing in your life like me. You care more about vlogging and playing video games. Me, I live this. I breath this. I am putting everything on the line to make it in this sport. Is wrestling everything to you, or is it just a hobby? Either way, your lack of attention to the Sport of Kings will make you easy pickings on October 2. You make a big deal out of the fact that you haven’t been pinned or tapped out, but you can’t hide from defeat during this match. You will be exposed for what you really are- a bad wrestler.

I start going down the list.

Cliff: Jaice Wilds- I respect you, but that doesn’t mean you’re better than me. The facts don’t lie: I beat you- twice. I only wish that I had pinned you instead of O’Neal in our second encounter so that there could be no doubt that I’m better than you. It may not be settled at War, either, but somewhere down the line it will be. That is unless I win War. If I win War, I’m officially better than you. If I win the World Championship, I’m unquestionably better than you. You know, the fact that I’m considered part of the main roster while you’re still considered a new guy says everything about the difference between you and me [or “the fact that I’m considered part of the main roster while you’re still considered a new guy already settles it: I’m better than you]. If you want to prove me wrong, you’ll know where to find me on October 2. And trust me, I’ll be there when you enter.

Jay West, there are two recipes for losing: arrogance and irritability and you’ve got them both. I’ve got something you don’t: respect for my opponents. Do I think I’m better than them? Yes, of course. Do I discount them? No. If I do that, I got cocky and lazy. I won’t even discount you. You’ve got a high risk, hard fighting style. In a match where bodies are going to be everywhere, you could be dangerous. However, if I’m looking at your time here in the WCF, it makes you a little less intimidating. A Fatal Four-Way in which you were rocked off of the top rope by a Rampart Punch from Bruno Armstrong. A six man tag where you got lost in the shuffle and weren’t even a part of the decision. You were a non-factor. Don’t worry about that. You won’t be able to help but be a factor at War. You’ll lose, but at least you’ll be a part of the decision. Your theme song is “I’m a King.” Jake Wakefield thought he was a king, too, and he got his ass handed to him. How about a song called “I’m a Good Wrestler?” Eh, if a song about being a king doesn’t make you a king, than a song about being a good wrestler wouldn’t work either. Are you getting angry at your apparent lack of success so far in the WCF? Don’t let that eat away at you, now. I mean, if you find in your training that you aren’t progressing at the rate you’d like, I could see you getting frustrated and just wanting to quit. And then you’ll sit on your TV watching your favorite rapper’s VH1 show T.I. and Tiny instead of going to the gym. Then you’ll show up to War out of shape and unprepared to get your ass kicked by Cliff of Doom. But don’t let my premonition anger you, sport. I don’t get angry. Has everything gone my way lately? No. I’ve won every one of my matches in the WCF so far, but trying to teach and do right by my wife hasn’t been easy. But I don’t let it get to me. I take it one day at a time, doing one thing at a time. I don’t let my thoughts get muddled by my frustrations or the things that piss me off. I focus on the task at hand. When I’m at home, it’s being a good husband. When I’m at school, it’s being a good teacher. When I’m in the ring, it’s being a good wrestler. And at War, it’s going to be about being a GREAT wrestler. What are you going to be at War, Jay?

Bruno “Iron” Armstrong says he’s a Knight of the Ring? No, it’s going to be more like NIGHT IN the Ring because I’m going to put you to sleep after I kick you in the face and drop you on your head. Even though I’m a teacher, I had to look up the word “mesomorph” when I saw yourself described as having a mesomorph body type. It means you are athletic, lean, and muscular without even trying. Well, I guess you haven’t been trying because you haven’t won anything yet. You’re a little “lean” in the win column. Sorry, I had to make the pun. Why is half of your bio about what you look like? It’s like reading a Match.com profile. Newsflash, bro, if you’re on TV, people will see what you look like and what you wear. There’s no need to remind us that you look more like an Abercrombie model than a serious competitor. We can all see it. You should focus on winning War rather than winning a male beauty pageant. Actually, you should probably focus more on losing to me, because that’s what’s going to happen. Do you think I care about being beautiful when I get in that ring? No. I care that my wrestling is beautiful, and if you’ve watched me week after week, you know that it is. My wrestling is Heidi Klum. You’re wrestling is like those fat chicks who pose for Lane Bryant catalogues. They try to get people to accept them, but in the end, everybody wants to see the woman who’s 37-27-36. That’s what people are attracted to. You may try to get everyone to like your wrestling, but in the end, they want to see what fascinates them. That means the Cliff Dive. That means the Cliffhanger. That means the Doomstone. That’s what gets the job done. That’s what ends things. That’s what will end you at War.

Honey, how do you pronounce that next last name?


Tina: I think it’s pronounced “sing.”

Cliff: Oh, that fucking guy.

I get ready again.

Cliff: I “Singh” your praises, Steven! You have not lost a match yet. And I’m not talking about just surviving; I mean you’ve actually won your matches outright! You pinned Jay West. You pinned Jaice Wilds. You’re coming into War like me, on a win streak! The only problem is, I won every match clean, without question in the middle of the ring. Everything I’ve done has been legal and within the strictures of the WCF rulebook. You on the other hand, are a piece of shit. You faked a rib injury to pick up the win in your debut match. The next week, you sucker punched Bruno Armstrong and kicked him in the balls. I don’t doubt that being an underhanded turd stain could help you in War. It could possibly eliminate a few people, but it can’t last the entire match. At some point, you’ll have to face the music and compete legitimately. I mean, you’ve got guys you have been in this match a number of times, guys who have been in the WCF for a long time. You think your antics are going to best former world champs like Gemini Battle? You think you’re going to hustle a hustler like Joey Flash? No, you won’t. And guess what? It’s not going to work with me, either. I haven’t been here that long. I don’t WCF gold on my resume. But I’m on the verge of entering the same league as guys like Gemini Battle, Joey Flash, Mikey eXtreme, Thomas Bates, and the rest of the greats that have walked down the aisle in the WCF. I’ve proven it the last four weeks. I’ve beaten everybody put in front of me, including the current Internet Champion. Let me rephrase that: I PINNED the Internet Champion. You’ve done nothing to impress me or anybody else. You haven’t earned the moniker “Superstar.” And it’s a shame, because you have real talent. You have the submission and MMA pedigree to be the best. It’s just that you’re lazy. You’re afraid that if you fight honorably, it won’t be enough. If that’s what’s in your head when you enter War, then you have no chance. I don’t let those thought run through my mind. I know I’m going to wow that crowd. I know I’m going to show everyone things they’ve never seen before. I know that I’m going to win. Deep down inside, behind all the cockiness and arrogance, you’re insecure. You scared. With all the best in the ring at one time, it’s going to overwhelm, consume you, and end you. The “Superstar” is going to burn out at War.


Oh, Jesus. I can’t say this next one. Honey, you’re the Spanish teacher. You say the next name.

Tina: Oh, c’mon. You can say it.

Cliff: Babe, just say it, please.

Tina: Fine. Fuego del Eterno Infierno Silencioso.

Cliff: Yeah, him. What’s that mean again?

Tina: The Eternal Silent Hellfire.

Cliff: Yeah, good name. The Eternal Silent Hellfire was definitely silent in more ways than one during his debut match. One power bomb. That was it. Oooooone power bomb. El Fuego, no offence, but you powerBOMBED in your first match. Where was all that “hellfire” that you allegedly harbor? Where was the daredevil? Where was the student of the flying arts? I know where he was. You left him in the backyard with the rest of your high school buddies. I know you took part in garbage wrestling in Japan, but I didn’t know that mean that your wrestling was garbage. You just didn’t do enough to impress me, and if you’re not going to try to impress people on Slam, what makes you think you’ll impress people at War? It’s kind of a bad place to start trying. War is for the people that truly have the fire to fight, like me. I give 110% every time I’m in that ring. I don’t hold back. I don’t disappoint. I don’t leave anything in the ring. At war, it’s going to be the same way. You will stay silent while I make noise with my kicks. You’ll quiet down while I turn the crowd’s volume up with the Cliffhanger. Hell, I bet I’m the only guy that can make you talk. If you try to come at me with a hurricanrana, I’ll grab both your legs and tie you up for the No Leaf Clover, at which point you’ll have no choice but to scream in pain. It will be more insufferable than the car bomb that singed off half of your face. That is, if you make it that far. I don’t think you will. I think you’ll come in as quiet as a mouse, not make a lot of noise, and leave just as silently. In fact, I don’t even think people will notice that you’re gone, let alone notice that you were ever in the ring. Me, on the other hand? I’m going to be the noisiest motherfucker out there. And when I win, the whole world will be able to hear me.


Oh, here we go- the new kids on the block.

Zoey Ryback is the Daughter of Destruction? More like the In-Law of Insignificance. I’m all for gender equality, but you vs. everybody else is unequal. There is absolutely no chance of equality when you step into that ring. You are 127 pounds of inferiority. Your offense sounds impressive, but then I realize that I outweigh by over 60 pounds. There is no way you are getting me to the ground for a Kata-Gatame-Hi-Jo-He-Wa Choke or whatever the fuck you call your moves. You’re not going to have the strength to flip me over with a hurricanrana. In someone of your weight class, yeah, I can believe you’d snap some bones. In War, with the biggest, and most vicious athletes (including Lilith), the only bones that are going to break are yours. You haven’t proven anything yet besides the fact that you are a dead ringer for Hailey Williams. The only problem is that in her chosen profession, she’s successful, while you will be not. Somewhere out there, there is a job you’re good at. Wrestling is not that job.

Brian, it PAINED me to read up on you. You want to kick some ass, cause pain doing it, you love to fight, and you have a big mouth and an attitude. My friend, you just described…EVERYBODY THAT HAS EVER BEEN A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLER. I think WCF should hire your to write job descriptions instead of embarrassing you by letting you walk out to the ring on October 2. I averaged out the rankings you gave your fighting styles and I came up with zero. Zero will also be the number of eliminations you will have at War. Zero will be the number of seconds that you will be in War. Zero is the number of sit-ups and push-ups you will do to prepare for War. Zero will also be the number of times that I will be eliminated from War when I eliminate you and everybody else in my way.

Koola, you like Hinder, huh? So do I! No, that was a joke. Hinder sucks and you probably do, too. When I’m done with you, there will certainly be “2 Sides” of you. One side of you will be black and blue and the other side will be bleeding. The only “Shock” that’s going to 
“Drop” is when the shock you’ll experience when looking at yourself and your mangled face in the mirror the day after War. And stop wearing my ring gear!


Oh, God, more bad theme music, this time from fucking Kid Krazzy. Puddle of Mudd? More like Puddle of Shit, which will be emanating from your ass when you see the amount of people you are going to have to lose in front of on the night of War. You’re a self-describe spot monkey. That means all you really care about is flipping and diving but not actually beating anyone. I can flip and dive, too. The only difference is that I also think about how I’m going to beat people. Learn to do all three at once. Are you supposed to be the male version of Zoey Ryback, or is she supposed to be the female version of you? Either way, I’m going to eliminate the both of you. If you think differently, then you truly are on the Edge of Reality, except that you’ve fallen off that edge and landed in Delusion.

JNJ- oh, he’s from Syracuse, thirty miles away from where I went to college. JNJ, I’ve been to Syracuse. The only good thing that ever came out of that third rate city was Carmelo Anthony, and he ain’t anything great. You might think you’re like the legendary Syracuse University basketball team, but you’re more like the football team. No one pays attention to you, no one cares about you, and you suck. I’m glad you survived Syracuse, but maybe you should worry about surviving War and me. Since you’re someone who likes to say and do what he wants, I suggest that when I put you in the No Leaf Clover, you SAY that you give up and you only DO one thing- tap.

Little Tornado sounds more like little shit. So you had it rough as a kid? Great, take a number. Everyone had it bad as a kid. It doesn’t make you special. And as far as being God’s gift, well, I think God needs to bring the gift back to the store and get his money back. No one would want you as a gift. You’re from Florida. Florida is the second worst state in the Union behind Mississippi. The only good thing that ever came out of Florida was…NOTHING. NOTHING GOOD EVER CAME OUT OF FLORIDA.

Little Tornado- please. I’m going to be the fucking tornado on October 2. I will rip through you like Hurricane Andrew ripped through your home state 22 years ago. This time, however, there won’t be any recovery. There won’t be any aid. There won’t be any care packages to help you get on your feet. When this storm gets done with you, you will be completely and totally obliterated.

Shay McKay, you and I are the same. We’re some of the smaller guys. The only difference is that I’m better than you. I know you’ve got the whole brawling thing down, but I’m a wrestler and wrestling beats brawling ten times out of ten. As a fellow Irishman, I appreciate the Irish culture and heritage, and I understand the importance of 1916, the name of your finishing move. But I’m also English, and I know that in the Easter Uprising of 1916, the Irish got their ass kicked. Well, I may be a McManus, but I’m going to have to be English during War and do to you what the English did during that bloody week 100 years ago- kick your ass.

Zoey, Brian, Koola, Kid Krazzy, JNJ, Tornado, Shay, listen to me: this is the wrong time to start, kids, but I have to admire you for going through this trial by fire. You will learn many lessons as you go through War. The most important one is that I’m Cliff of Doom and I’m going to beat all of you. Don’t be ashamed once it happens. I’ve taught many people the same lesson already. Hell, I’ve taught so many people a lesson over the last month that War is going to feel like an alumni reunion for the 2016 class of the University of Doom. Jaice Wilds will be there. So will Joe Smart, Jason O’Neal, Alex Winterz, Lilith, Crazy J, and Teddy Blaze. They can all give you advice on how to deal with losing to me. The best advice I can give you is to turn and walk the other way down the aisle when you see me in the ring, because if you enter, I will embarrass you in your debut match in the world’s most famous arena. Save your energy and wait until October 9 to make an impact.


Tina: You need a break, babe?

Cliff: No, I’m on a roll. Let’s keep this going. Who’s next?

Tina: Um, Ser-u-jah?

Cliff: Yeah, that’s it. First of all, the moniker “Hebrew Hammer”- very misleading. I was expecting a rabbi gimmick. There are going to be a lot of dicks in this match. Gemini Battle, Joey Flash, and Mikey eXtreme are big dicks. I, on the other hand, am not a big dick. My wife accepts me for who I am, though.

Tina turns the camera on her face and mouths “It’s really little.”

Cliff: Hey!

Tina: Sorry.

Cliff: Anyway, don’t let that fool you on October 2. I’m not against hurting a woman, even a pretty woman, except my wife, of course. While you keep your mind on sausages and bananas and other phallic objects, I’ll be tying your little legs up in the No Leaf Clover. And if you really want to get close to my penis, you’ll find the Doomstone very accommodating. It won’t last very long however, because the Doomstone is a short ride and the end result in getting dropped right on the top of your head. And don’t try that Bronco Buster on me like you did to Jordan Ciserano. I’ve never really been into herpes and I’m not about to start right now. This isn’t the match for you. If it were an orgy, then yes, you’d be very successful, but this is War. It’s a match for serious competitors, and you are not a serious competitor. My advice- stay in the locker room and find a bench to rub your snatch on. It’ll be safer.

Tina: Honey, snatch?

Cliff: What’s wrong with that?

Tina: It just sounds like a gross word.

Cliff: Well, she’s a gross person.

Tina: Okay, whatever. It’s your video.

Cliff: Okay, next up.

I look at the list.

Cliff: Adrian Archer. So you’re a genius, huh? Well, let’s take a look at your month. You turned on your partner and ever since then you’ve been a loser. Really genius work there, Adrian. While you’ve been losing week after week on Slam, I’ve been doing nothing but winning; in multi-man matches none the less. Have you seen me compromise my morals? Have you seen me be underhanded about any of it? No. I’ve gone in the ring and been the best wrestler week in and week out, period. Between you and me, I’m the valedictorian and you’re last in the class. I’m the honors student and you’re in remedial classes. I’m on the fast track to success and you’re on the short bus. Do you get it? I’m smart and you’re dumb. Maybe you should have stayed with Damian Kaine after all. If this is what I have to work against at War, then maybe War will be easier than I thought. Maybe instead of trying to be a smooth operator, you should just try being a smooth wrestler.

Oh, Alex Winterz! Shit, we’ve got a celebrity in the War match- Bill S. Preston, Esq.! Oh, wait, wrong Alex Winterz. It’s still the same shitty wrestler that I beat a few weeks ago, who also lost to Joe (not so) Smarts and “(Not) The Real Deal” Jason O’Neal. Buddy, go back to Rochester. You’re about a big a failure as Kodak has been the last 25 years. I hope they’re hiring, because you’re going to need the work soon. War will not be a Kodak moment for you and neither will any other match that you ever wrestle in the WCF.

Jason O’Neal, you gave me a competitive match a few weeks ago and I applaud you for doing that. Still, the fact remains that you lost and I’m the guy that pinned you. I think you have found that the competition in the WCF is a lot harder than it was in any other wrestling promotion that you’ve been in during your short career. What else can account for the fact that you were a world champion in four different promotions but you can’t seem to break through the glass ceiling here? This isn’t the minor leagues, kid. This is as major as major can get, and I’m as major as they come. Majorly talented. Majorly victorious. Majorly focused. Majorly better than you. I hope that was a lesson you learned in our Fatal Four-Way. You took me lightly the first time. Instead of training and getting ready for what I had to bring, you decided to do a lame parody of me. Are you going to take that tact again in preparation for War or are you going to take it seriously this time? If you want to make parodies, go work for Saturday Night Live. There’s no room here for guys who want to be parodies of wrestlers.

I read the next few names.

Cliff: Zero Tolerance. Oh, man, I have the pleasure to talk about the three of you again.

First, let me say that I’m not taking any of you lightly. I mean, Crazy J is overweight, so taking him lightly would be hard. But seriously, I know you guys are dangerous. Any stable is dangerous. When it comes to putting up a fight, I know you guys will bring it and a victory over you three will be well earned.

Now, let’s get to talking about why you won’t win.

Crazy J, I’ve already proven that I can outlast you. I mean, anyone could outlast you. You’re fat and get out of breath easily. I have to say, you brought the comedy in our last match. I mean the whole thing with the dildo, hilarious. It was especially funny when Lilith started to beat you with it. Really, that’s what I like about you, J. You make me laugh. Why wouldn’t you? You’re a clown! Look in the mirror! You’ve got the face paint for it. And you have props just like clowns! The only think I would suggest is that you not talk, because when you talk you sound retarded. Hell, everything you do looks retarded. You are not fluent in the ring, which is why the only championship you will ever win is the Hardcore Championship. It’s the only belt that you have the ability to win. The World Championship is not for you. In order to be the World Champion, you have to train, in a gym and/or a wrestling ring, night in and night out. In order to do what you do, all you have to do is be familiar with your local Lowe’s or Home Depot. You don’t have to know a wrist lock. You just need to know where the light tubes are. And don’t give me that crap about Zero Tolerance having a wrestling school. It’s either not real or it is and you rip people off. You were exposed in the Fatal Four-Way match and you’re going to be exposed even more in War. I’ve already proven that I’m better than you. Who was the one that pinned Teddy Blaze? That was me. What did you manage to do besides get beaten up by a crazy woman with a dildo? You got speared by that crazy woman. Oh, and you hit a clothesline. Very good. I guess that’s the extent of your offense nowadays. I have the super kick, the single leg dropkick, the double stomp, the senton splash, the fisherman neckbreaker, the handspring back elbow, the Cliff Dive, the Cliffhanger, the No Leaf Clover, and of course, the Doomstone. I bet just thinking about all of my moves made you sweat and made you feel like you need to lie down. At War, you’ll be so out of breath trying to keep up with me that you’ll be begging for me to pin you just so you can go back to the locker room and pass out. Zero Tolerance? More like Zero Endurance.


Salem Shepard, I feel bad for you, man. A schizophrenic former drug addict. Jesus. You’re ripe for the picking. Anyone who sees that you’re vulnerable can take advantage of you, and that’s exactly what Crazy J did. He saw that he could manipulate you and now he’s got you painting your face and acting like him and that redneck who’s your tag team partner. Shepard, ditch the paint and ditch those two losers. What are you getting out of that relationship anyway? Certainly not the Tag Team Championship. You and Cash were the favorites in that match against Tomohawk and Captain WCF and you blew it. To be fair, Cash blew it, too. He tried to get in the ring to save your chances of winning but he’s so out of shape himself that he got winded just trying to get under the bottom rope. My hope for you is that before War, you break your ties to those two guys and walk into War your own man. I’m a realist, however, and I know that it probably won’t happen. They’ve got you under their thumb, and if you’re walking around wearing Juggalo face paint and a hockey jersey in the ring, you probably don’t have sound judgment anyway. Therefore, you will continue to wrestle like Zero Tolerance does- without skill, without style, and without strategy. Bring all the weapons you want, bring all the street fighting experience you want. It’s no match for technical mastery and ring psychology. If you want to follow the Zero Tolerance path, let me be the fortune teller and reveal what’s going to happen to you in War. I see you getting pinned. I see the ref counting to three. I see you walking back towards the locker room in shame.

And you can hold Jason Cash’s hand while you head back there because I’m getting rid of his ass, too. Ugh, where did this fucking guy come from? Mississippi? When people around the world think of why they hate America so much, they think of this fucking guy and his backwards-ass state. I’m glad you don’t wear face paint, Jason, because you don’t need it to prove that you are about as vile as the rest of your stupid stable. You know, I heard you once in the locker room saying that Abraham Lincoln had slaves. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. WRONG. Jason, Wikipedia is not a credible source of information. That’d be like me editing your Wikipedia page and writing “Jason John Cash is a fat, smelly, redneck, greasy, cousin fucking hillbilly bitch.” Wait, no, all of that is true. Sorry, bad example. Anyway, get your fucking facts straight, jack. Lincoln’s parents were part of an anti-slavery Baptist church and moved to Indiana, a free state. Neither them nor Lincoln had slaves. You’re just pissed because your side of the country lost the Civil War. I bet you lament the passage of the Civil Rights Act, too. Your state is the epicenter of hatred, racism, bigotry, prejudice, voter suppression, stupidity, sloth, gluttony, and a whole bunch of other nouns to describe the most degenerate state in the Union. I wish God would bring back the ten plagues and sick them loose on your fucking state. 49 states would not be a bad thing, believe you me. But since I don’t see that happening any time soon, I will just be the plague of Zero Tolerance at War. And trust me, with you, it’ll be easy. You won’t be yelling like a rebel when I plant you on your brainless dome. You’ll be yelling like the generic blond chick in every horror movie. You think you’re going to hit me with the 8 Second Ride? No. 8 seconds is all your fat ass will last. The only Sweet Chin Juice that will exist will be the blood running down your chin when I hit you with my own super kick. To put it in a way that even you can understand, I’ll stomp a mud hole in your ass.
Crazy J, you couldn’t get the job done against me in a Fatal Four-Way. Cash and Shepard, you couldn’t get the job done in the Tag Team Title match. If you three can’t get the job done in those types of matches, how are you going to get the job done when it’s just the three of you against me?

That’s right, I said the three of you against ME. You’ve faced a lot of opponents since debuting in the WCF and you’ve been impressive. But none of the people that you’ve faced in the ring are me.

Dion Necurat and Captain WCF are not me. ZMAC and Mikey eXtreme are not me. Adam Young is not me Kevin Bishop and Damian Kaine are not me. Gemini Battle is not me (thank God). I’m not Adrian Archer, Sarah Twilight, Tomohawk, Skittles, Lilith, or anybody else in this promotion. I’m better than them all. I respect the roster. They wouldn’t be here if they weren’t good. It’s just that I’m better, and if you think you’ve done anything in the WCF, well, boys, you haven’t done anything until you’ve stepped in the ring with me. Just surviving me for five minutes would be an accomplishment. Zero Tolerance, you’re going zero for three against me.

If none of the people that I just mentioned like what I had to say, they can try me at War, too.

That includes those people who belong to The Brotherhood.

How’s all the protective gear working out for you, Dion? With a 2-4-1 record, I would say not so well. You’re versed in many fighting styles. I admire that. It takes a lot to learn different disciplines in the world of combat. You seem like a hard worker. But this isn’t jiu jitsu. It isn’t gladiatorial combat. This isn’t even amateur wrestling. This is professional wrestling. It’s a whole different thing. You can add all the fighting styles to your repertoire that you can, but in the end, professional wrestling is a different beast with different rules. It takes more than just being a technical master to win. Shit, some of the best in the history of professional wrestling weren’t the most technical wrestlers. But they knew what to do and when to do it. I’m not approaching this match like some great general on the battlefield. I’m approaching this match like the Scottish in Braveheart. I’m running right into the fight and killing as many dudes as possible. The only difference between those warriors and I is that I’m going to win. I’ll work on that bum shoulder of yours the entire match if I have to. If all I have to do is keep you in an armlock until the end of the match, then that’s what I’m going to do. Without that shoulder, you lose the Bonds of Glory. You lose the Praetorian Driver. You lose whatever you use to kill an opponent. When that happens, I will kill YOU.

Tina: Kill him?

Cliff: No, I don’t want to kill him, but I will beat him.

Damian Kaine will be having some “bad company” at war- ME. Damian, during the match you will be “always on the run” from me. I’ll be the “rising sun” and you’ll be the setting sun. When I punch you in the face, it’ll feel like I have a “shotgun in my hand.” And if you try to make a “final stand” against me, I’ll drop you like a bad habit, and you will certainly call me “BAD COMPANY”- you can’t deny. Your shirt says everything about you. You are bat-shit crazy for thinking that you could step into the same ring as me and survive. Those scars on your back? They’ll be love bites compared to the scars I’m going to leave once I eliminate you from the match. Let’s face facts. You had an incredible debut where you pulled off a sick move to finish the match. Ever since then, you haven’t won a match and Adrian Archer turned his back on you because he thought you were a 165 pound “anchor.” I’m 4-0 and I’m showing no signs of failure. Anchor yourself to a new career or drown in the sea of sorrow that I’m going to flood you with at War.

Here’s irony: Kevin Bishop is called “The Plague.” And he’s the People’s Champion. Plagues kill massive amounts of people. The most famous one, the black one from the middle ages, killed around 25 million of them. And you know what? “The Plague” Kevin Bishop is killing me with his stupid haircut and that rat’s nest growing from his chin. What does his wife see in him? She’s a 10 and he’s a minus 10. Fuck, he’s a minus human. You know how I know that? He’s a cult leader. Every cult leader that has ever existed, be it Jim Jones, Marshall Applewhite, or David Koresh, is a fucking subhuman, piece of shit cocksucker. Only a gross perversion of a man would start a cult. Only a disgusting, degenerative life form would make a group whose sole purpose is to worship its leader and everything its leaders think. Is that what The Brotherhood is, Kevin, a cult? Is that what you bring to the table here in the WCF? This is a place of competition, not a place to get your rocks off while your ego and dick are stroked by people who’ve been brainwashed. That’s right, brainwashed. You say your goal is to rid the world of weak minded people who don’t understand your truths? Well, by brainwashing people into thinking that everything YOU say is correct, you’re creating weak minded people. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it. It’s what pieces of shit like you do. What are your truths, exactly, Kevin? That you’re going to lose War? That if it came down to you or me, I’d drop you with one kick to the face? That if the People’s Title were on the line right now, I’d pin you quicker than Crazy J could eat an entire pizza? Are those the truths you’re talking about; because I can’t imagine that there is anything else that could come out of your mouth that could be as true as what I just said. Man of the People my left testicle. More like Man of Everlasting Shit. I’m going to reveal the truth at War and expose you. Hell, you didn’t even know what War was until a few weeks ago. I would imagine that someone who is as all knowing as you would know what the fuck War was. If you don’t even know what War is, how can you prepare for it? I’ve been waiting for War XV ever since I watched War XIV on TV. Everything I’ve done in my training since then has been to prepare me for this night. How have you prepared, huh? By telling your cult that it was predetermined by some deity to win this match? Fuck you. The only thing that’s predetermined is me kicking your ass.

You may be talented. You may be a winner. You may be a great leader of brainwashed men. But you haven’t faced me yet, and I haven’t lost shit. Time for a real test, Kevin; time to see the real truth: that Cliff of Doom is better than you.

Psychopomp doesn’t remember much about his independent career after he was injured, and once I’m done with him, I bet he won’t remember much about War XV either. Let me write the narrative now so that when he does forget, he can read my words and remember the embarrassment that I caused him.

Ahem.

Psychopomp entered War. He was immediately met by a single leg running front dropkick by Cliff of Doom. Cliff then alternated between double stomps and senton splashes on Psychopomp’s torso. After that, he turned Mr. Pomp over and bent his body in an unnatural position with the No Leaf Clover. Sir Pomp tapped and screamed and tapped and screamed, but the ref wasn’t paying attention because he had to monitor Crazy J and Jason Cash while they had to share an oxygen mask after five seconds of movement. Cliff decided to be merciful and let go of the hold. He picked His Pompness up, turned him upside down, and Doomstoned him about eight times. When Crazy J and Jason Cash were finally able to move a few steps without passing out, the ref turned around. That’s when Cliff executed his last Doomstone on the Pompster and finally covered him for the 1-2-3. Pompernickel was brought to the back on a stretcher. The men of the Brotherhood all held hands as they rode in the ambulance together. Bishop, Kaine, and Dion all rode in the same ambulance because they were all injured as well. By me.


The End

Of Psychopomp.

And the rest of The Brotherhood.

Jordan Ciserano says he loves the smell of napalm because it smells like victory, and I believe he does know what napalm smells like. Not a lot of people in this match give me pause, but he’s one of them. He’s got a winning record like Zero Tolerance but unlike them, he doesn’t promote idiocy. However, I have noticed that when it comes to the big matches, he can’t pull it out. He’s had two big title matches in his WCF tenure and both times he failed. The first was against Thomas Bates for the Television Title. Jordan, you went for a sunset flip on a guy that big? What were you thinking, that you were going to pull him down onto his back? Um, no. You left yourself wide open for Bates to snatch you up by your neck, throw you in the air, and send you down with a vicious power bomb. In the Alpha Title match against CJ Phoenix, The Butcher, and Dion, you had Phoenix. You HAD him. You should have gotten Phoenix to his feet and kicked him in the face with the super kick to finish him off. You were too slow, though, and let The Butcher hit you with a skillet. I don’t know what it is about you, but you seem to have brain farts when you’re in the big spot. War is going to be the biggest match of the year, so there are plenty of chances for your brain to fart. I will take advantage of those brain excretions. When I see that you’re leaving yourself wide open, I will attack, drop you to the ground, and eliminate you. Then you can go back into the locker room and think of just how you blew it- again.


Teddy Blaze- You’ve got a lot to think about at War, my friend. TV Title. Internet Title. King of All Media. The War Match. How are you going to focus when you have those many goals in mind for one night? I’m not concerned about anything else but winning War and winning the World Championship. Plus, you will be spent from your match with Gemini. I hope it goes all three rounds had you have so little energy that you won’t even be able to walk to the ring when you enter War. And if you lose the Three Stages of Media Hell, then you’re going to be preoccupied even more with the thought that you lost everything and gained nothing. You could, of course, win the whole thing, but it’ll make no difference. The moment you and I cross paths, you will be doomed, and I will be standing over you while you look up at the lights.

Yes, you have a lot to think about, but the one thing you should think about the most is me pinning you in the Fatal Four-Way at Slam. A lot of people had you pegged for the win in that match and victory was mine. Yes, you were distracted, but I pinned you clean, in the middle of the ring. No hijinks, no cheating; just a good old clean pin in the center of the ring. You took your eye off the ball and I took advantage of an opportunity. If you think I’m not going to do it again at War, then you’re sadly mistaken, my friend. The only difference is that this time, when I pin you, I’ll make sure you see it coming. I want to prove to the whole world that even when you’re focused on fighting me, I’m still going to be the one coming out on top. You can push me and push me all you want to get the best out of me. Trust me, you’ll get the best out of me and more.


Since we’re talking about the Three Stages of Media Hell, I might as well mention Gemini Battle. Or Grayson Pierce. I don’t know. I can’t keep track of this fucking guy. Every few months he changes and becomes something else. Right now, he’s an asshole. A face painted asshole. Oh, fuck, is he part of Zero Tolerance, too? No, he can’t be. He’s intelligent.

He’s attempting to become a Grand Slam Champion at War. Just like Teddy, his mind is going to be on the Three Stages of Media Hell Match, where he wants to keep his TV Title, win the Internet Title, and win a fucking crown. Just like Teddy, he’s going to be physically spent, especially if it goes all three falls. And Teddy isn’t tenacious. He will make Gemini work for the win if he in fact is the victor. The only thing that Gemini and Teddy have in common is that I haven’t pinned Gemini-yet.

In all the time I watched the WCF before I earned a contract. I watched Gemini- or Grayson, when he was being normal- try and try and try to be the best. Last year he achieved the record for the most eliminations- and then he was immediately eliminated by Spencer Adams. And then the record was tied by Los Tiburones. After that, he won a shot at the title at One, but he came up short against Wade Moor. Next, he was entered into the WCF Classic and lost- in the first round- to Stuart Slane. He finally achieved his goal of becoming the World Champion at Blast- only to lose it at the next pay-per-view to Thomas Bates.


You see a pattern here? And no, I’m not talking about the male pattern baldness that’s creeping up on the back of Gemini’s head. The pattern is that every time Gemini achieves something, he quickly fails or is bested by someone else. It’s always one step forward, two steps back. Even if he wins the King of All Media Match, even if he becomes a Grand Slam Champion, he’s going to be brought back down to Earth in the War Match. The guy just can’t sustain success for very long.

I, on the other hand, have been sustaining my success ever since I entered the WCF. I have won, not just survived, every match I’ve been in. I’ve picked up the 1-2-3 every single time. The only thing Gemini’s picked up is flashes of brilliance followed by great moments of failure.

Grand Slam? The only thing that’s going to be slammed grandly is your head on the mat after I hit you with the Doomstone, and you’ll just add another notch to the moments where you were the best and then became the worst all in a matter of seconds.

Tina: Does this next name say “Zombie McMorris?” Is that really someone’s name?

Cliff: Yeah. He’s one of the heavy favorites. To die of a drug overdose. But seriously, he is one of the heavy favorites to win War. And probably die of a drug overdose.

Tina: My God.

Cliff: But that’s beside the point. Or is it?

Really, what has living the life that you live done for you, Zombie? I don’t want to come off as self-righteous, but you take the whole bitches and coke thing past the point of a pleasurable hobby. You’re an addict, and if you listen to “Master of Puppets” enough times, you know that in the end, it’ll smash your dreams.

You may say, in your broken English, that I should go fuck myself and that you ARE living the dream and I’m just some faggot teacher pathetically trying to live out some fantasy that I had when I was a kid. Well, some of that is right. I am a plain old teacher and I am trying to live my childhood fantasy. Ain’t nothing wrong with that. The difference is that I don’t delude myself like you do.
I know that it could all end for me like that. One little injury, and I’m done. That’s why I haven’t quit teaching. If I get rid of teaching and something bad happens to me here, I’ve got nothing to live off of. You, on the other hand, think that nothing is wrong with you and that the lifestyle you live and the wrestling that you do won’t hurt you in the end. You think you’re going to live forever. Son, no one lives forever.

Every day I wake up and I do something that helps people out. I’m not trying to sound smug, but it’s true. No one gets exploited by what I do for a living. In fact, my job is to help children avoid having to live a life where they will be exploited.
What the fuck do you do all day?

You wake up, do drugs, and go back to sleep. What great do you do for the world? Who is helped out by your way of life? No one, not even you. You might think you’re living the dream, but you’re just existing selfishly. There are some people out there struggling to live the American Dream. You take advantage of it. You appreciate nothing. You live the high life, and I put the emphasis on “high.”
I know that none of this is getting through to you. You’re sitting there saying “Dis teacha mothafucka should shut his dick holsta and stop bein such an SJW fag.” Trust me, I’ve heard you speak. You and Crazy J should get together and come up with your own language so the rest of us don’t have to hear you say your vile shit.

No, I know you won’t heed a thing I’m saying. So let me hit you with this: for as much success as you’ve had over the last few years as the leader of the hardcore division and a three time Hardcore Champion, you still haven’t been able to win the big one. For as many other titles as you’ve win, the Tag Titles, the United States Title, the Internet Title, you still haven’t been able to win the big one. You didn’t win War last year or the year before. And you’ve never been the World Champion. That is something that is indisputable. You can’t escape that fact by doing drugs and saying that people are gay. You may be a favorite in this match, but that’s all you’ll ever be: a favorite. A favorite is not a definite winner. You’ll be a guy that people will always say “He might win, but I just don’t think this year is his year.” You’ll always be the guy wanting: wanting for drugs and wanting for the World Title.

And don’t try to say I’m wrong. If I’m wrong, then why are you in this match year after year? It’s because you want that World Title. You NEED that World Title just like you need drugs. But unlike drugs, it’s not as accessible and you can’t just buy it from a dealer. It has to be earned, and people like you only know how to take things the easy way. You live for the quick fix, and having to work for the World Title just isn’t quick enough for you.

The wanting will continue this year. I’m not as experienced or as prolific as you, I know. But I am better than you. I’m more refined than you. You try to bring chaos to order. Well, I bring order to chaos. I’m not on anything, so my mind will be as clear as the day is long. You won’t be able to keep up with my speed, my agility, or my strategy. This will be the year when you finally realize that you can’t cut it against guys like me. It’s time for you to step aside, enter a rehab facility, and watch people like me succeed where you haven’t been able to all these years.

Henry Spearman- yikes, what a boring fucking name. Neforian was better.

You have the distinction of entering War at the least coveted of spots- #1.

Ouch.

Which is what Mikey eXtreme said when you kicked him in the face to get yourself disqualified and EARN that #1 spot. How do you mess something like that up? That would be like the bus driver in Speed going less than 50 miles per hour right after he was told not to go below 50 miles per hour. That’s like the time my mom said “Don’t spill grape juice on the rug” and the first thing I did as soon as she left the room was knock it over by accident all over the rug! You just have to think sometimes.

Is this what it’s going to be like when I face you at War? Are you going to be so absent minded that you don’t even put up a fight against me? If that’s the case, just don’t even enter the ring when the play your music to begin the match. Just walk out of Madison Square Garden, walk to The Plaza Hotel, and apply to be a doorman. It’s really one of the only jobs that even you couldn’t mess up. Unless, that is, you try to push the door open when you’re supposed to pull it.

I’ve noticed that you’ve been absent twice since Revenge. I would want to hide, too, if I fucked up as bad as you did. The only thing I’ll say about it is that you’ve missed half of my exhilarating rookie win streak here in the WCF. You missed me outlast Winterz, Smarts, and Wilds and then missed me pin- get ready for it- TEDDY BLAZE! Again, you make no sense. If there was a new guy on the horizon (me) who was burning through the competition week after week (again, me), I would want to scout that guy and figure out what I had to do to beat him in the hardest, most grueling match of the WCF pay-per-view year. But no. You went home and hid your shame.
The one week you were back, you got ambushed by Mikey eXtreme. The guy you looked like an idiot in front of made you look like just as big an idiot. That’s like pouring salt in the wound. Well, I’ll pour a bit more in at War. You think you’ve had it rough the past month but you ain’t seen nothing yet. It’s going to get rougher than a hand job by Gemini Battle’s mom. You don’t like the position you’re starting the match in? Think about the position you’ll be in when I’m done with you: looking up at the lights.

Captain WCF, you look familiar…very familiar…toooo familiar? Who are you? I know this Captain WCF gimmick you’ve got going on isn’t original, but just what the hell does it remind me of? You look like…Hideki Irabu! I knew it!

Tina: Who the hell is Hideki Irabu?

Cliff: He was a pitcher from the late ‘90s that was a hot prospect for the New York Yankees. The problem was that he was fat and he fizzled out. In fact, he was such a letdown that the owner of the Yankees, George Steinbrenner, called Irabu a “fat pussy toad.” Ouch.
I will say that Captain WCF is definitely more talented in wrestling than Irabu was in baseball. He earned the right to be Tomohawk’s tag team partner and one half of the Tag Champions. He has defended the right to call himself a champ, most recently in a win against Zero Brain Cells. I mean, Zero Tolerance. But let’s face it. He tapped out a few weeks ago against the cult asshole from The Brotherhood. He got taken out by Jason Cash the week before. Captain WCF is a gimmick. A flash in the pan. Comedy filler during an episode of Slam. The kids love him, and that’s fine, but that doesn’t make him a great wrestler. Neither does the cape or the shield. But if he’d like to bring the shield to try to protect himself and the cape to hide his face once he loses, then he is my guest. I just hope that after this, he takes his life and career more seriously and becomes something better than what he currently is.

Tomohawk, why would you hitch your wagon to this guy? I know you two are the tag champs, but you come from a proud people, the Cherokee people, one of the most advanced Native American people in the 19th century. What would John Ross think if he saw you cavorting with a Japanese guy who looks like he’s still wearing his Halloween costume from the third grade. I know what he would think. He’d think, my people walked 800 miles on the Trail of Tears and died by the thousands for this shit? Jesus Christ, Andrew Jackson is a better Cherokee than you!

I hope you’re not going to rely on Captain Crunch to get you by in War. I’m sorry, I meant Captain WCF. I was just thinking of what Captain WCF ate to get so fat.

Listen, you’ve really worked hard to get where you are. I saw you when you first started as part of the Trios Tournament with Justin Sane and Caleb Ronan. Those two guys sucked. You were the best part of that team. I think even Corey Black thought so. And eventually you worked your way up the ranks and became a Tag Team Champion. It’s regrettable that the Captain is your partner. You don’t need a partner. You need to rely on yourself. But if you decide to lean on Captain WCF during this match, then I will eliminate you faster than I planned. As a history teacher, I can’t help but make the analogy- I will be Andrew Jackson and the aisle to the back will be the Trail of Tears. I’m sorry. Too soon?

Oh, fuck, Adam Young. First of all, “Redneck” is not a wrestling moniker. That’d be like me calling myself “The White Man.” How sad is it that you’ve lived this long and the only thing you can say about yourself is that you’re a redneck? And a redneck from Texas! You know what they call people like you down there? Bubbas, because even for Texas, you are too stupid.

Dwight Eisenhower went to high school in your hometown of Abilene. That’s right, the commander of Allied Forces during World War II and President of the United States. He grew up in poverty but worked his way up to leading the army in the most important war in mankind’s history and becoming the leader of the free world. Do you think that at any time he went around saying “Hello, I’m ‘Redneck’ Dwight Eisenhower?” Hell no! He had more pride in himself than that. If he knew people like you were living in his former town, he’d come back from the grave, knee you in the balls, and shit down your throat. Then he’d go play a round of golf, have a martini, and then come back and do it again!

I’m not going to shit down your throat at War, but I certainly will make you feel like shit. I don’t know what it is about you assholes who are stubbornly, obsessively proud to be southern. Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself, like it’s okay to walk and talk like a bumbling idiot and show the rest of the world that half of our nation is as ignorant as a new born baby. Sometimes, I wish the Confederacy would have been successful so that I wouldn’t have to share the same country as you.

And speaking of the Confederacy, what the fuck is with people like you who wear a fucking Confederate flag on their bandana and then go ahead and listen to rap music. What the fuck is that? It’s like “I’m going to wear this symbol that represents the subjugation of millions of black people but then I’ll celebrate their culture by listening to the music of their descendants.” I don’t care if you listen to rap, but if you can justify wearing that flag by saying that it doesn’t represent slavery, then you are dumber than a box of rocks. You want to tell me that the South didn’t just secede because of slavery? Okay, I’ll buy that argument. But the fact remains that it was a part of the reason. Slavery is in the Confederate Constitution. The word “slave” is explicitly written a number of times. If that’s what you stand for, then I couldn’t in good conscience let you win War. I would rather die than let that happen.

I hope it’s just you and me at some point. Nothing would make me happier than eliminating you. If I can’t eliminate you from life or from this country, the next best thing is denying you the right to fight for the WCF World Title. And seeing as you have about three brain cells in your head, beating will be as easy as Grant taking Fort Donelson. Adam Young- just like the South, he won’t rise again.'

And neither will CJ Phoenix. Mr. Alpha Champion. If you’re the Alpha Champion, then I’m the Omega Champion, because I will end you at War. You claim that you’re a mystery, but I’ve got you figured out. You want to try to spear me? No problem. I’ll just make sure that went you dive at me, my knee somehow connects with your nose. Phoenix Splash? How about Phoenix Crash and Burn? Talon Kick? More like Talon Whiff. Crux of Fate? Uh-uh. I call it the Crux of Fake. It might put everyone else away, but I won’t be one of those guys.

Don’t bother wearing your “For God” T-shirt at War, because you’re going to embarrass God at War if he wasn’t embarrassed by you already. How could be proud of you? You were partnered up with the World Champion on the last Slam- the WORLD CHAMPION- and you lost! How do you mess something like that up? Oh, because you let yourself get taken advantage of by The Brotherhood and were too weak to try to stop Psychopomp from pinning your partner. Yeah, God was real proud of you that night.

And don’t try praying to God, either, before War. Besides the fact that God probably thinks to himself “Me-damn it, this fucking guy’s asking for help again,” he can’t help you during the match. You’re on your own when you’re in that ring with me. God can’t stop the Doomstone. God can’t stop the Cliffhanger. God can’t stop the No Leaf Clover. In fact, I’ll bet God will probably laugh at you while I bust you up in that ring. He’ll probably be like “I gave this asshole all the natural talent I could give him? Oops.” If God is real and favors anybody in War, it certainly isn’t you.


Tina: Honey, seriously? I don’t think mocking God is a good idea. It’s time to stop.

Cliff: Yeah, you’re probably right. CUT!

She turns the video off.

Tina: Well, that was a lot of fun.

Cliff: Yeah. Who says it has to end?

I shoot her the sexiest look I can, which means it’s the worst sexy look in the world.

Tina: Oh my God. Are you trying to seduce me.

I’m embarrassed. I look down.

Cliff: Yes.

Tina: Well, you don’t have to try that hard tonight. I’ve been horny ever since I saw you during lunch today.

What now?

We stare at each other for a second before walks into the bedroom, looking back at me as if to say “Follow me.” I won’t go into detail about what happens next. Let’s just say, I plan to last longer in War.

---

The next day in school, I’m happier than I’ve been in weeks. I’m killing it in the WCF, Tina is happy with me again, and Coleman seems to realize that I’m the real deal when it comes to teaching. The post observation conference hasn’t happened yet, but I know he’s going to give me a good review. I kicked that lesson’s ass. Nothing can be better than the way I feel right now. Well, maybe winning War, but I haven’t won that yet, so right now, this is the best feeling in the world.

I stand outside my classroom monitoring the hallway as the kids walk in for first period. I’m about to turn and walk into my classroom when I see a large throng of kids walking backwards down the hallway, almost in a circle, swarming down the hallway like a wave breaking in the ocean.

Oh, shit. I’ve seen this before.

I walk up to the moving crowd of kids. I push through them.

Cliff: Get out of the way! Get out of the way!

I make it to the center of the circle and see exactly what I thought was happening- a fight. And it’s two girls, which is always worse than two boys. I run back to my classroom, pick up the classroom phone, and dial the main office. The line is busy. I try again. Still busy. I look out into the hallway. There are no other teachers out there and no security guards to be found. Fuck. What should I do? I try calling the main office again but the line is still busy. Fuck. I can’t let this continue. This is a safety hazard. Fuck.

I walk back into the crowd and see the two girls bent over and pulling at each other’s weaves. One of them is Kesha, a huge black girl who is built like a brick shit house and has all of the boys afraid of her. Her arms are go goddamn big, she could be a UFC fighter. That’s not a joke.

Any other time, I wouldn’t try to break a fight up. However, I seem to be the only adult in the immediate area. I can’t just let this continue and I can’t just stare at the two girls try to kill each other.

Instinctively, my mind harkens back to my wrestling training. I think of one of the first and most basic moves I learned in my first few days. I grab Kesha in a front face lock.

I don’t cinch it in real tight, just tight enough to restrain her. I’m not trying to make her pass out.

Cliff: Let go. Let go.

I say it calmly.

Kesha: No!

Cliff: If you let go, I’ll let go of you.

Kesha lets go. I immediately stand in front of her with my arms out to stop her from getting to the other girl.

Kesha: Get the fuck out of my way! 

I remain calm.

Cliff: Calm down. Calm down.

I finally see a security guard approach the situation.

Cliff: Help me!

He grabs Kesha by the arms and pulls her out of the crowd. Another security shows up and grabs the other girl. I tell the rest of the kids to move on to class.

My adrenaline’s pumping and I can tell that my face is beat red. Even though I remained calm, on the inside, my nervous system was kicking itself into high gear. I walk into my classroom to find the kids staring at me.

Cliff: Get out your binders!

The kids immediately follow my directive. I take a seat at my desk and give myself a minute to compose myself. I start the lesson. About 20 minutes later, I get a call on the classroom phone. I answer it.

Cliff: Hello?

Roz: Cliff, it’s Roz from the main office. Dr. Coleman is cancelling your post observation meeting today.

Cliff: Um, okay. Is everything alright?

Roz: He still wants to meet in his office at the same time, just not about your post observation conference. He, um...wants you to bring a union representative.

Oh, fuck. Why do I need to do that?

Cliff: Okay. Thanks, Roz.

I hang up. I give myself a few seconds to collect my thoughts before I go back to teaching.

I think I have a pretty good idea of why I need a union rep to meet with Coleman.

God damn it.