Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2008 2:25:05 GMT -5
There lies a land where glacial frost meets spacious, palatial beauty. There lies a land so free and majestic that moose and antelope roam free and graze without a care in the world. This is the land that Chad Evans calls home, a beautiful log cabin tucked away in the snow-capped hills of Hartford, Connecticut on the outskirts of town. It always is the outskirts because city life cannot provide this peace of mind and tranquility. Such qualities can be hard to come by in times like these for a man like Evans. Evans, the highly touted prospect from Bobby Cairo's Ultra Nova Dojo, is in a pressure packed situation. Evans has become a hot commodity in the wake of his victory over Lawnmower Jones in the first round of the WCF World Title Tournament. A young man of only 22 years of age is now one victory away from a world title match live on PPV. Can it be and should it be that Evans is feeling the nerves?
Adding to his pressure, Evans will be facing an opponent who has never been defeated, a former WCF World Champion with a wealth of experience, experience that Evans could only dream to possess. All of these facts are not lost upon Evans. That's why Evans agreed to appear on a live video stream for one of those popular internet sites and speak his mind without censors or scripts. Evans had some things to get off his chest and he voiced his opinions on such varied topics as global warming and God, and he even chatted a bit about his debut against Lawnmower Jones and upcoming match against Torture. Evans was not lost for words as he appeared live via internet stream from his home. The following footage was streamed live on the internet beginning at 3:15 PM EST on Tuesday afternoon.
As the video begins we see Evans seated in a black leather office chair. Evans is looking well dressed and well groomed in a Cosby sweater, beige slacks and black shoes, his blond hair looking perfectly coifed. The room that surrounds Evans is tastefully and exquisitely decorated. The walls and floors are solid oak, polished and clean. A lovely array of paintings adorn the walls. Crystal lamps sit on marble end tables positioned on both sides of a black leather sofa; in front of the sofa lies a Persian rug on the floor. To the side of where Evans' is seated a fire crackles in the brick fireplace. More impressive than anything in the room is the view from the windows behind Evans. The view from this cabin atop the hill showcases a picturesque landscape of the snow-capped hills, the forest and the city below, truly a breathtaking sight. In his hand Evans is holding a black mug. He takes a sip from the mug before beginning to speak.
Chad Evans: "Ladies and gentlemen, how are you today? I want to thank everybody for tuning into my live internet video stream thingy. I've never done this before so please bear with me. How are you folks doing today? It's another lovely winter day here in Hartford, Connecticut. I hope that you're enjoying the view of the land behind me, isn't it beautiful? Some people might be bothered by the cold, but the cold doesn't bother me. I'm wearing my favorite winter sweater and I'm nice and warm and toasty sitting here in front of the fireplace. It feels good to be alive, it feels damn good. You know something? We're a proud people here in Connecticut and all throughout New England. Some people try to circumnavigate the wintry terrain, they fly to Hawaii or Florida for the winter, they avoid challenging the snow and the ice head on, but not true New England people. We were born to face the cold weather because we've got ice water in our veins."
Evans swishes the mug in his hand and takes a sip, then chuckles.
Chad Evans: "Maybe I've got something else in my veins too. Hot cocoa and hot tea are good for some people, but nothing warms me up like a little bit of cognac. I'm talking about Hennessy, baby! You know how I do this. This stuff will warm you up faster than a Canadian snow bunny. That's a slang term for a Canadian prostitute for those of you uninitiated. Did you know that Kim Jong Il loves Hennessy? I guess that's one thing that I share in common with the controversial North Korean leader. Kind of funny really. You know I always wonder what makes some people tick. For example do you ever wonder what makes George W. Bush horny? What makes the leader of the freak world pop a wheelie in his panties? I would imagine that we see the answer to that question every time we see images of war zones and dead bodies on the nightly news. There's a little political commentary for you.
Getting back to the weather for a minute, it never ceases to amaze me that some people believe that weather can be controlled by man, even created in a laboratory. These are the people who tell us that we should all go green quote-unquote to prevent The Day After Tomorrow from happening in real life. I suppose these are the same people who believe that we can and should clone human beings? When will these fools learn that only God can make it snow or make the sun shine? Only God can put a bounce in your step and a song in your heart. Only God can cure the pain in your soul. He can even cure your soul, Mr. Torture. Oh I mentioned Torture's name I guess he's going to jump out of the closet like the Candyman or Freddy Krueger?"
Evans laughs and then takes another sip of Hennessy from the mug.
Chad Evans: "You know what I'll get to Torture in a minute. First I want to talk about my weekend because I had a lovely weekend. I busted my ass all last week training for my match with Lawnmower Jones and by the end of my training on Friday I was sore and I was black and blue. To be honest I think we overdid the workouts but my team wanted me to be prepared for my debut match, because they're a great team. I was so tired on Friday night from the workouts but I couldn't sleep, I was too pumped up thinking about my match against Lawnmower Jones. I was lying in my bed at 3 o'clock on Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep and finally I decided to post a blog entry on the internet because I was bored and lonely. I didn't have any punani to hit because I'm not allowed to have sex before a match, trainer's orders. That includes no playing with myself-slash-wanking it to porn. So I posted my little blog entry and that took me about 10 minutes but I was still bored. I decided to go for a walk.
I was walking along the side of the road early Saturday morning and it was cold. There was snow and there was ice, I couldn't see five feet in front of my face. I was walking in a blizzard, baby! Imagine that! People say, some people say that you need money, you need talent and you need brains to be successful in this life, in this world. I believe that all you need is balls, big balls, and you need heart and guts. I want to be that man walking in the storm, walking until I reach my destination, all the way at the top of the mountain. I want to be a champion, the kind of champion that people remember fifty and one hundred years from now, not just a champion that gets dismissed as a flash in the pain. I was that man walking to the top of the mountain and you know what? I was so inspired by my journey that I felt like Rocky running up the steps. In that instant I knew that I would beat Lawnmower Jones, because Lawnmower Jones could never feel that kind of powerful spiritual experience, the exhilaration felt like a rising tide inside of my soul. I bet that while I was becoming one with nature at three o'clock in the morning, Lawnmower Jones was crouched over a toilet puking his guts out on a late night bender."
Evans chuckles and then takes another swig of brandy, a smirk on his face. Evans swishes the mug to check how much brandy is left in it, then he looks back at the camera.
Chad Evans: "I don't want to sound like I'm bashing Jones, he was a very tough opponent and I have to admit that I was nervous going into our match. When I arrived at the WCF Arena on Sunday afternoon I felt good, I felt like I was scouting punani at a gymnastics competition. I've never felt so alive as the moment that I was walking down to the ring for my entrance, my music kicked in and I was pumped up. When the bell rang for my match and I locked up with Jones I could feel his power. We're roughly the same size, but he's a bit heavier and stronger than me, that was a surprise. I learned that I need to bulk up because I'm used to fighting at the light heavyweight limit of 205 pounds in MMA and I'm used to cutting weight, but here in WCF it's all open-weight, there's no weight classes. That's a big change for me to adjust to. The sheer violence of the match was also surprising, I had seen wrestling on TV and in person, but you can't understand how violent wrestling really is until you're actually in the ring, fighting your opponent.
The referees in MMA will stop the fight when one fighter is rendered unable to intelligently defend himself. It's not like that in pro wrestling. The only way a wrestling match stops is by pinfall or submission or unless somebody is completely KO'd, as was the case when I choked out Jones. There's such a degree of latitude that allows the wrestlers to do pretty much whatever they want to each other. That was also a huge adjustment for me. Even though I have a killer instinct and I have no problem punishing my opponent, I'm used to having a referee step in at some point to stop the fight. Obviously it doesn't work that way in pro wrestling. Conversely I've never taken the kind of beating that Jones put on me without a referee stopping the fight, so that was a real gut check. Overall, all things considered, I think that my debut was a success because I beat a much more experienced opponent and I overcame some adversity early in the match. I will say that I'm not satisfied. I'm happy with the win but I'm not satisfied with my performance. I know that I have to improve for my next match and I know that I will improve.
After my match I went back to the locker room. I showered, I watched the rest of the show while getting a massage from this lovely Japanese girl. I left her a nice tip, got dressed and attended the post-fight press conference, did some Q and A. I went back to the hotel, had a quick bite to eat from room service. I decided to drive back to Hartford on Sunday night with a couple of my training partners from Ultra Nova. We didn't arrive in Hartford until around five in the morning. I was beat, I went to bed, watched a little Nick at Nite and fell asleep. I slept through the day, woke up at around three in the afternoon. Did a quick workout here at home, I have a room with a gym setup. I studied the tape of my match, took some notes. Decided to unwind a little bit, played eight ball in the billiards room, played darts. I admit that I did watch some porn but I did not jerk it. I've been ordered not to cum until after I win the World Title, if you can believe that. How the hell is a man supposed to survive for more than a month without cumming?
I swear everytime I go to the gym or I'm at a restaurant, even shopping at the supermarket there's beautiful women. I'm just glad that I'm not in Brazil because those are the most gorgeous women in the world and they're totally freaky. Those Brazilian women will have you licking their shoe polish while they're sucking your... well you guys know where I'm going with this. Back to my story! On Monday night I was treated to a lovely wonderful fish dinner here at home. The entire team at Ultra Nova came over here and cooked dinner, we had good food, good wine and we celebrated. My victory over Jones was a victory for the entire Ultra Nova team because they all put in so much work to prepare me for my match. This girl named Sandy was here for the dinner, she's one of the chefs at Ultra Nova, and I wanted so badly to hit that booty, but the women folk are off limits right now. Hey if Sandy is watching right now I just want to say, hi Sandy! Who loves ya, baby? Sandy is the chick that I was making out with in that photo that I posted on my blog last Saturday, for those of you not in the loop."
Evans takes another swig from his mug, stands up from his chair and then walks over to the liquor cabinet to get a refill. Evans pours some more of that sweet, sweet brandy into the mug and then sits back down in the chair.
Chad Evans: "This match on Sunday is a perfect challenge for me. This is precisely the step up in competition that I've been looking for. Lawnmower Jones pushed me, he challenged me, but it wasn't enough. This Sunday night I'll be facing a man WHO CANNOT BE BEAT! Torture has never lost a wrestling match to anyone ever... EVER! This man--no, no this MACHINE is infallible, flawless, designed to destroy all that oppose him. I gotta be careful not to spill my cup here because, man, Torture in so many words is the professional wrestling equivalent of Fedor Emelianenko; a cyborg sent from the future to rule the world of professional wrestling. Even that explanation does not suffice because even Fedor lost on a cut against Tsuyoshi "TK" Kohsaka. In that fight Fedor was hit with an elbow and he started bleeding the way that a human being bleeds. Is Torture human? Does Torture bleed? Can Torture bleed? I want to find out.
You know I've been ripped apart by the disappearance of my dear friend and mentor Bobby Cairo for these last few months, not a day goes by that I don't think about Cairo and wish that he was with me. I wish that he was working out with me at the gym or shooting pool with me in the billiards room or driving snowmobiles with me up in the hills. It's not a pain that you learn to cope with, you just try to distract yourself from the feelings of loss and regret and longing. Now I have something to distract me, I have something else to worry about. I have a new burden to deal with. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place; either I have to accept the fact that my friend is missing or I have to accept the fact that I'm a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter when I step into the ring against Torture. How fucked up is my life? I can't even breathe right now, I can't even savor my victory over a great veteran wrestler like Lawnmower Jones because I have to deal with all of this pressure and all of this inevitable disgrace and disappointment when I get my ass kicked by Torture."
Evans takes a big swig from the mug and then looks straight into the camera, a stern expression on his face.
Chad Evans: "Do I let it bother me? Do I let it wind me up? Just a little bit yeah! I feel like I'm being ripped apart inside because nothing that I do will make anything better. I want peace, I want levity, I want success and happiness, but I am inadequately equipped to achieve these goals. I feel like there's an earthquake inside of my soul. I feel like that pyromaniac with a gas can and a blow torch who's hell-bent on burning down city hall. Torture believes that he is God. This man is purporting to be some sort of wrestling deity, perched high above all of his so-called challengers, and who could blame him? The man has never tasted defeat. He's the longest reigning WCF Hardcore Champion, he's a Tag Team Champion, an International Champion and oh by the way he's the longest reigning World Champion in WCF history. Even the great Jack of Blades couldn't break Torture's record title reign. This man, this God named Torture became so bored with the lack of competition that he retired from WCF in the midst of his record breaking World Title reign as the undefeated undisputed greatest champion in the history of the sport, better than Hogan, better than Flair, better than Rhodes and Sammartino and Backlund, Hart and Michaels.
All of those men lost eventually but not Torture. So why precisely have you returned to WCF, Mr. Torture, Mr. Sister as I shall call you now in a sly reference to eighties hair metal Twisted Sister? Have you come back to reclaim your belt that you never lost or have you come back just to make everybody else's lives as miserable as yours? I do know this, whether intentionally or otherwise you've returned to take the bread out of my mouth. I like bread, Mr. Sister, I need my bread. You're not taking my bread out of my mouth. I don't have a wife and kids, I'm not married with children. I have parents that live in Jersey, well my mother lives in Jersey and my father lives in upstate New York. It's a long story and I'd rather not bore you with the details, Mr. Sister the Wrestling God. I don't have a family of my own but that doesn't invite you to take the food out of my mouth. Do you see this beautiful house that I'm living in? I don't own this house. Bobby Cairo and Ultra Nova Dojo own this house, they've been so kind as to let me live here because I'm a member of their team.
I want to prove that I deserve to be a member of their great team. They believe in me, they wouldn't waste their time training me if they didn't think that I could be the World Champion, but I still have to prove it to myself and the rest of the world. I want something that I can call my own. I want the WCF World Title and I'm willing to fight for it with guns blazing, me laying my balls and my heart and my guts on the line. Do you understand that, Mr. Sister, or are you just too damned cool? It seems to me that you've returned to WCF with a new attitude. You're starting to let your emotions show, you're getting all emo and shit. Why so serious, Mr. Sister? Do you have the quote-unquote emotional pains? Do you want a shoulder to cry on? You better turn to God and give him your soul because your ass belongs to me and I'm gonna be riding that booty all night long!"
Evans swaggers a bit while taking another drink of Hennessy, then his mood changes to a more solemn tone.
Chad Evans: "When I was watching the match on TV, or I should say the locker room monitor, can you imagine my horror when I saw Torture destroying Outcast? I knew that I was next. What am I supposed to say about that? What type of commentary should I offer? Should I be modest and praise my more experienced opponent, lavish praise upon the undefeated former World Champion? Should I play the role of cocky upstart and totally disrespect the man? Should I hightail to Tangiers with a briefcase full of cash, take my chances on a run from the law? No fucking way, son! IT CAN'T HAPPEN THAT WAY! I'm going to stand there in the ring on Sunday night in the face of a full onslaught and I'm going to do my damnedest to withstand everything that Torture can throw at me! Maybe I will be beaten and defeated on the mat within the opening seconds, or maybe just maybe I'll tear the roof off the place and put on my greatest performance yet, shocking the entire wrestling world by defeating the undefeatable.
Should I play the role of spoiler? Should I play the role of doormat? Why must I be faced with this dilemma? I've never been afraid of failure before, why should I start now? Is it because I'm too close to greatness? Is it because this is my chance to write my name on the marquee, to walk amongst the stars on high between Heaven and Earth? I can't stop now and I can't quit. Bobby Cairo would not be afraid. Hell, Cairo wasn't afraid to stand up to the tyranny and oppression of the American government. Did Cairo pay a price? For certain he did, but don't all great men pay a price for standing up for that which they believe in? I don't quiver and I don't quake. I don't dance the hokey pokey and I don't shake! I am not a stone nor a stick, I am not a rock nor the great barrier reef. I am a man, flesh and bone and I will fight for what I believe. The truth is out there and the truth is in here."
Evans slaps his heart with an open hand and then turns the hand into a fist.
Chad Evans: "You will see a show, you will see lights and you will see two stars on Sunday night. You will see the death of one star and the birth of another. Torture, your legacy and your mystique will die a gruesome death. The burden of the challenger is never so great as the burden of the champion, the superstar, the headliner, the big man on top of the mountain. You're the big man but I've got a big gun. My heart, mind, body and soul cannot be vanquished, they can't die like a star. Stars die all the time, they live for 40 million years and then they die. You don't have that much time left, Torture. You don't deserve it and you shall not receive it. You've been a spoiled and greedy man for far too long. Your reprieve has been denied courtesy of the judge, jury and executioner named Chad Evans. You'll be wishing that you were in a holding cell at the Modesto sheriff's office when I get through with you.
You know what else I hate about you? I hate the way that you talk. You're always so damn smarmy like Bill O'Reilly or Bill Maher on some kinda acid-washed ego trip. I hate the way that you say people's names, especially my name. Chad, Brad, Thad, what's in a name anyway? What's in your name, Torture? A big man with a big blade, that big gun and that big knife? What's in your name? What's in your eyes? Do you see the horror of a thousand genocides when you lay your head down to sleep? Is there anything that I should offer you, scary man? A new shade of crazy, a new taste of enlighten mint, oh so refreshing! What do I propose? I propose that you join me for a walk on the wild side, like Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground.
Now that I've made my proposal, I also have a query. Tell me what you think about this. Is it really better to keep your mouth shut and appear foolish than to open it and remove all doubt? Foolishness is subjective, one man's foolishness is another man's wisdom. For example some might say that I'm a fool for speaking ill of the undefeated undisputed pound for pound top ranked wrestler in the world. I don't think I'm being foolish, I think I'm getting inside of your head, you twit, you nitwit you! This is a contest that you cannot win, Torture, because I am a master of mind games! Hey dummy I bet you're too stupid to realize when someone is insulting you, hey old man? I'm giving you grade-A bulletin board material, you old geezer. You're an old man sitting in your rocking chair. You better stay in L.A., don't bother with that cold Chicago weather, who needs it? In fact you should move down to Florida with all the other senior citizens."
Evans takes a long sip from the cup and keeps drinking until there's nothing left. Evans turns the cup upside down to confirm that there's nothing left, and stumbles over to the liquor cabinet, nearly knocking over a lamp on his way over there. Evans grabs the bottle of Hennessy, takes a big swig and walks back to the couch, bottle in hand.
Chad Evans: "Oh man this is good shit. Who needs sex when I've got you, Hennessy baby! Haha... Oh wow there's a camera in front of me. That's right I was talking to my friend Torture. Mr. Torture, there's something that you need to understand, a little bit of food for thought. I'm Brock Lesnar in this equation and you're Randy Couture, you overrated bag of dinosaur bones! You're an old man fumbling for your reading glasses and your brain pills. You and I are relatively close in age, I believe that you're 23 or 24 years old and I know that I'm 22, but your soul and your spirit are old and dead inside, Torture. You might as well be a thousand years old and I might as well be a newborn baby. I am pure and vital, beaming with the essence of life. You, sir, you are decayed and rusting. I've seen men tremble with the look of fear in their eyes at the mere mention of your name, Torture. Do you think I'm scared? Hell no! I laugh in the face of your aura and mystique, your holier than thou attitude, your sneer and your smirk and most of all I laugh at your threats of bodily harm. I'm more scared of being eaten by clowns when I fall asleep than I am of facing you... sissybitch!"
Evans takes another swig of the Hennessy, holding the bottle up and drinking from the bottle for several moments, before placing it down on the table next to him. Evans walks over to the sofa and lays down in a reclined position with his feet up, a very satisfied expression on his face, a sort of self-satisfied smile. After a few seconds of gloating and reveling in his trash talking achievement, Evans looks toward the camera and he stares for a moment as if pondering some deep thought. Then, after a few moments, Evans' eyes grow wide and he jumps up from the sofa.
Chad Evans: "Oh my God... oh no... what have I done? Torture, I'm so sorry! I don't know what got into me! Oh God, what have I done? Please don't let him hurt me! He can't see this video, I have to stop the camera, I can't let anybody see this video. How do I stop the damn video?!"
Evans, clearly in a state panicked, picks the camera up and turns it away. We see an office desk with a computer and some audio/video equipment, then the camera is placed down on the desk. Next to the desk is a mirror in which we can see the reflection of Evans picking up a cell phone and frantically dialing a phone number.
Chad Evans: "Bolts, it's me, it's Chad. I think I made a big mistake. I was doing that internet video thing that I told you about and I had too much Hennessy and I started talking shit about Torture, really bad shit. I think he's going to hurt me."
Evans pauses for a moment as if listening to the party on the other line, presumably his trainer Bolts Quackenbush.
Chad Evans: "I think I turned the camera off, let me check."
In the mirror we see a reflection of Evans walking toward the camera. Suddenly we see the image of Evans staring directly into the camera while holding his cellphone to his head.
Chad Evans: "The red light is still on, how do I turn it off? No, I've never used it before. Some guy from the internet sent it to me the other day. OK, I'll just unplug it then."
Evans turns the camera to the floor and all we can see is the hardwood floor panels and Evans' shoes. Suddenly the camera feed goes dead.
Adding to his pressure, Evans will be facing an opponent who has never been defeated, a former WCF World Champion with a wealth of experience, experience that Evans could only dream to possess. All of these facts are not lost upon Evans. That's why Evans agreed to appear on a live video stream for one of those popular internet sites and speak his mind without censors or scripts. Evans had some things to get off his chest and he voiced his opinions on such varied topics as global warming and God, and he even chatted a bit about his debut against Lawnmower Jones and upcoming match against Torture. Evans was not lost for words as he appeared live via internet stream from his home. The following footage was streamed live on the internet beginning at 3:15 PM EST on Tuesday afternoon.
As the video begins we see Evans seated in a black leather office chair. Evans is looking well dressed and well groomed in a Cosby sweater, beige slacks and black shoes, his blond hair looking perfectly coifed. The room that surrounds Evans is tastefully and exquisitely decorated. The walls and floors are solid oak, polished and clean. A lovely array of paintings adorn the walls. Crystal lamps sit on marble end tables positioned on both sides of a black leather sofa; in front of the sofa lies a Persian rug on the floor. To the side of where Evans' is seated a fire crackles in the brick fireplace. More impressive than anything in the room is the view from the windows behind Evans. The view from this cabin atop the hill showcases a picturesque landscape of the snow-capped hills, the forest and the city below, truly a breathtaking sight. In his hand Evans is holding a black mug. He takes a sip from the mug before beginning to speak.
Chad Evans: "Ladies and gentlemen, how are you today? I want to thank everybody for tuning into my live internet video stream thingy. I've never done this before so please bear with me. How are you folks doing today? It's another lovely winter day here in Hartford, Connecticut. I hope that you're enjoying the view of the land behind me, isn't it beautiful? Some people might be bothered by the cold, but the cold doesn't bother me. I'm wearing my favorite winter sweater and I'm nice and warm and toasty sitting here in front of the fireplace. It feels good to be alive, it feels damn good. You know something? We're a proud people here in Connecticut and all throughout New England. Some people try to circumnavigate the wintry terrain, they fly to Hawaii or Florida for the winter, they avoid challenging the snow and the ice head on, but not true New England people. We were born to face the cold weather because we've got ice water in our veins."
Evans swishes the mug in his hand and takes a sip, then chuckles.
Chad Evans: "Maybe I've got something else in my veins too. Hot cocoa and hot tea are good for some people, but nothing warms me up like a little bit of cognac. I'm talking about Hennessy, baby! You know how I do this. This stuff will warm you up faster than a Canadian snow bunny. That's a slang term for a Canadian prostitute for those of you uninitiated. Did you know that Kim Jong Il loves Hennessy? I guess that's one thing that I share in common with the controversial North Korean leader. Kind of funny really. You know I always wonder what makes some people tick. For example do you ever wonder what makes George W. Bush horny? What makes the leader of the freak world pop a wheelie in his panties? I would imagine that we see the answer to that question every time we see images of war zones and dead bodies on the nightly news. There's a little political commentary for you.
Getting back to the weather for a minute, it never ceases to amaze me that some people believe that weather can be controlled by man, even created in a laboratory. These are the people who tell us that we should all go green quote-unquote to prevent The Day After Tomorrow from happening in real life. I suppose these are the same people who believe that we can and should clone human beings? When will these fools learn that only God can make it snow or make the sun shine? Only God can put a bounce in your step and a song in your heart. Only God can cure the pain in your soul. He can even cure your soul, Mr. Torture. Oh I mentioned Torture's name I guess he's going to jump out of the closet like the Candyman or Freddy Krueger?"
Evans laughs and then takes another sip of Hennessy from the mug.
Chad Evans: "You know what I'll get to Torture in a minute. First I want to talk about my weekend because I had a lovely weekend. I busted my ass all last week training for my match with Lawnmower Jones and by the end of my training on Friday I was sore and I was black and blue. To be honest I think we overdid the workouts but my team wanted me to be prepared for my debut match, because they're a great team. I was so tired on Friday night from the workouts but I couldn't sleep, I was too pumped up thinking about my match against Lawnmower Jones. I was lying in my bed at 3 o'clock on Saturday morning, I couldn't sleep and finally I decided to post a blog entry on the internet because I was bored and lonely. I didn't have any punani to hit because I'm not allowed to have sex before a match, trainer's orders. That includes no playing with myself-slash-wanking it to porn. So I posted my little blog entry and that took me about 10 minutes but I was still bored. I decided to go for a walk.
I was walking along the side of the road early Saturday morning and it was cold. There was snow and there was ice, I couldn't see five feet in front of my face. I was walking in a blizzard, baby! Imagine that! People say, some people say that you need money, you need talent and you need brains to be successful in this life, in this world. I believe that all you need is balls, big balls, and you need heart and guts. I want to be that man walking in the storm, walking until I reach my destination, all the way at the top of the mountain. I want to be a champion, the kind of champion that people remember fifty and one hundred years from now, not just a champion that gets dismissed as a flash in the pain. I was that man walking to the top of the mountain and you know what? I was so inspired by my journey that I felt like Rocky running up the steps. In that instant I knew that I would beat Lawnmower Jones, because Lawnmower Jones could never feel that kind of powerful spiritual experience, the exhilaration felt like a rising tide inside of my soul. I bet that while I was becoming one with nature at three o'clock in the morning, Lawnmower Jones was crouched over a toilet puking his guts out on a late night bender."
Evans chuckles and then takes another swig of brandy, a smirk on his face. Evans swishes the mug to check how much brandy is left in it, then he looks back at the camera.
Chad Evans: "I don't want to sound like I'm bashing Jones, he was a very tough opponent and I have to admit that I was nervous going into our match. When I arrived at the WCF Arena on Sunday afternoon I felt good, I felt like I was scouting punani at a gymnastics competition. I've never felt so alive as the moment that I was walking down to the ring for my entrance, my music kicked in and I was pumped up. When the bell rang for my match and I locked up with Jones I could feel his power. We're roughly the same size, but he's a bit heavier and stronger than me, that was a surprise. I learned that I need to bulk up because I'm used to fighting at the light heavyweight limit of 205 pounds in MMA and I'm used to cutting weight, but here in WCF it's all open-weight, there's no weight classes. That's a big change for me to adjust to. The sheer violence of the match was also surprising, I had seen wrestling on TV and in person, but you can't understand how violent wrestling really is until you're actually in the ring, fighting your opponent.
The referees in MMA will stop the fight when one fighter is rendered unable to intelligently defend himself. It's not like that in pro wrestling. The only way a wrestling match stops is by pinfall or submission or unless somebody is completely KO'd, as was the case when I choked out Jones. There's such a degree of latitude that allows the wrestlers to do pretty much whatever they want to each other. That was also a huge adjustment for me. Even though I have a killer instinct and I have no problem punishing my opponent, I'm used to having a referee step in at some point to stop the fight. Obviously it doesn't work that way in pro wrestling. Conversely I've never taken the kind of beating that Jones put on me without a referee stopping the fight, so that was a real gut check. Overall, all things considered, I think that my debut was a success because I beat a much more experienced opponent and I overcame some adversity early in the match. I will say that I'm not satisfied. I'm happy with the win but I'm not satisfied with my performance. I know that I have to improve for my next match and I know that I will improve.
After my match I went back to the locker room. I showered, I watched the rest of the show while getting a massage from this lovely Japanese girl. I left her a nice tip, got dressed and attended the post-fight press conference, did some Q and A. I went back to the hotel, had a quick bite to eat from room service. I decided to drive back to Hartford on Sunday night with a couple of my training partners from Ultra Nova. We didn't arrive in Hartford until around five in the morning. I was beat, I went to bed, watched a little Nick at Nite and fell asleep. I slept through the day, woke up at around three in the afternoon. Did a quick workout here at home, I have a room with a gym setup. I studied the tape of my match, took some notes. Decided to unwind a little bit, played eight ball in the billiards room, played darts. I admit that I did watch some porn but I did not jerk it. I've been ordered not to cum until after I win the World Title, if you can believe that. How the hell is a man supposed to survive for more than a month without cumming?
I swear everytime I go to the gym or I'm at a restaurant, even shopping at the supermarket there's beautiful women. I'm just glad that I'm not in Brazil because those are the most gorgeous women in the world and they're totally freaky. Those Brazilian women will have you licking their shoe polish while they're sucking your... well you guys know where I'm going with this. Back to my story! On Monday night I was treated to a lovely wonderful fish dinner here at home. The entire team at Ultra Nova came over here and cooked dinner, we had good food, good wine and we celebrated. My victory over Jones was a victory for the entire Ultra Nova team because they all put in so much work to prepare me for my match. This girl named Sandy was here for the dinner, she's one of the chefs at Ultra Nova, and I wanted so badly to hit that booty, but the women folk are off limits right now. Hey if Sandy is watching right now I just want to say, hi Sandy! Who loves ya, baby? Sandy is the chick that I was making out with in that photo that I posted on my blog last Saturday, for those of you not in the loop."
Evans takes another swig from his mug, stands up from his chair and then walks over to the liquor cabinet to get a refill. Evans pours some more of that sweet, sweet brandy into the mug and then sits back down in the chair.
Chad Evans: "This match on Sunday is a perfect challenge for me. This is precisely the step up in competition that I've been looking for. Lawnmower Jones pushed me, he challenged me, but it wasn't enough. This Sunday night I'll be facing a man WHO CANNOT BE BEAT! Torture has never lost a wrestling match to anyone ever... EVER! This man--no, no this MACHINE is infallible, flawless, designed to destroy all that oppose him. I gotta be careful not to spill my cup here because, man, Torture in so many words is the professional wrestling equivalent of Fedor Emelianenko; a cyborg sent from the future to rule the world of professional wrestling. Even that explanation does not suffice because even Fedor lost on a cut against Tsuyoshi "TK" Kohsaka. In that fight Fedor was hit with an elbow and he started bleeding the way that a human being bleeds. Is Torture human? Does Torture bleed? Can Torture bleed? I want to find out.
You know I've been ripped apart by the disappearance of my dear friend and mentor Bobby Cairo for these last few months, not a day goes by that I don't think about Cairo and wish that he was with me. I wish that he was working out with me at the gym or shooting pool with me in the billiards room or driving snowmobiles with me up in the hills. It's not a pain that you learn to cope with, you just try to distract yourself from the feelings of loss and regret and longing. Now I have something to distract me, I have something else to worry about. I have a new burden to deal with. I'm caught between a rock and a hard place; either I have to accept the fact that my friend is missing or I have to accept the fact that I'm a sacrificial lamb being led to slaughter when I step into the ring against Torture. How fucked up is my life? I can't even breathe right now, I can't even savor my victory over a great veteran wrestler like Lawnmower Jones because I have to deal with all of this pressure and all of this inevitable disgrace and disappointment when I get my ass kicked by Torture."
Evans takes a big swig from the mug and then looks straight into the camera, a stern expression on his face.
Chad Evans: "Do I let it bother me? Do I let it wind me up? Just a little bit yeah! I feel like I'm being ripped apart inside because nothing that I do will make anything better. I want peace, I want levity, I want success and happiness, but I am inadequately equipped to achieve these goals. I feel like there's an earthquake inside of my soul. I feel like that pyromaniac with a gas can and a blow torch who's hell-bent on burning down city hall. Torture believes that he is God. This man is purporting to be some sort of wrestling deity, perched high above all of his so-called challengers, and who could blame him? The man has never tasted defeat. He's the longest reigning WCF Hardcore Champion, he's a Tag Team Champion, an International Champion and oh by the way he's the longest reigning World Champion in WCF history. Even the great Jack of Blades couldn't break Torture's record title reign. This man, this God named Torture became so bored with the lack of competition that he retired from WCF in the midst of his record breaking World Title reign as the undefeated undisputed greatest champion in the history of the sport, better than Hogan, better than Flair, better than Rhodes and Sammartino and Backlund, Hart and Michaels.
All of those men lost eventually but not Torture. So why precisely have you returned to WCF, Mr. Torture, Mr. Sister as I shall call you now in a sly reference to eighties hair metal Twisted Sister? Have you come back to reclaim your belt that you never lost or have you come back just to make everybody else's lives as miserable as yours? I do know this, whether intentionally or otherwise you've returned to take the bread out of my mouth. I like bread, Mr. Sister, I need my bread. You're not taking my bread out of my mouth. I don't have a wife and kids, I'm not married with children. I have parents that live in Jersey, well my mother lives in Jersey and my father lives in upstate New York. It's a long story and I'd rather not bore you with the details, Mr. Sister the Wrestling God. I don't have a family of my own but that doesn't invite you to take the food out of my mouth. Do you see this beautiful house that I'm living in? I don't own this house. Bobby Cairo and Ultra Nova Dojo own this house, they've been so kind as to let me live here because I'm a member of their team.
I want to prove that I deserve to be a member of their great team. They believe in me, they wouldn't waste their time training me if they didn't think that I could be the World Champion, but I still have to prove it to myself and the rest of the world. I want something that I can call my own. I want the WCF World Title and I'm willing to fight for it with guns blazing, me laying my balls and my heart and my guts on the line. Do you understand that, Mr. Sister, or are you just too damned cool? It seems to me that you've returned to WCF with a new attitude. You're starting to let your emotions show, you're getting all emo and shit. Why so serious, Mr. Sister? Do you have the quote-unquote emotional pains? Do you want a shoulder to cry on? You better turn to God and give him your soul because your ass belongs to me and I'm gonna be riding that booty all night long!"
Evans swaggers a bit while taking another drink of Hennessy, then his mood changes to a more solemn tone.
Chad Evans: "When I was watching the match on TV, or I should say the locker room monitor, can you imagine my horror when I saw Torture destroying Outcast? I knew that I was next. What am I supposed to say about that? What type of commentary should I offer? Should I be modest and praise my more experienced opponent, lavish praise upon the undefeated former World Champion? Should I play the role of cocky upstart and totally disrespect the man? Should I hightail to Tangiers with a briefcase full of cash, take my chances on a run from the law? No fucking way, son! IT CAN'T HAPPEN THAT WAY! I'm going to stand there in the ring on Sunday night in the face of a full onslaught and I'm going to do my damnedest to withstand everything that Torture can throw at me! Maybe I will be beaten and defeated on the mat within the opening seconds, or maybe just maybe I'll tear the roof off the place and put on my greatest performance yet, shocking the entire wrestling world by defeating the undefeatable.
Should I play the role of spoiler? Should I play the role of doormat? Why must I be faced with this dilemma? I've never been afraid of failure before, why should I start now? Is it because I'm too close to greatness? Is it because this is my chance to write my name on the marquee, to walk amongst the stars on high between Heaven and Earth? I can't stop now and I can't quit. Bobby Cairo would not be afraid. Hell, Cairo wasn't afraid to stand up to the tyranny and oppression of the American government. Did Cairo pay a price? For certain he did, but don't all great men pay a price for standing up for that which they believe in? I don't quiver and I don't quake. I don't dance the hokey pokey and I don't shake! I am not a stone nor a stick, I am not a rock nor the great barrier reef. I am a man, flesh and bone and I will fight for what I believe. The truth is out there and the truth is in here."
Evans slaps his heart with an open hand and then turns the hand into a fist.
Chad Evans: "You will see a show, you will see lights and you will see two stars on Sunday night. You will see the death of one star and the birth of another. Torture, your legacy and your mystique will die a gruesome death. The burden of the challenger is never so great as the burden of the champion, the superstar, the headliner, the big man on top of the mountain. You're the big man but I've got a big gun. My heart, mind, body and soul cannot be vanquished, they can't die like a star. Stars die all the time, they live for 40 million years and then they die. You don't have that much time left, Torture. You don't deserve it and you shall not receive it. You've been a spoiled and greedy man for far too long. Your reprieve has been denied courtesy of the judge, jury and executioner named Chad Evans. You'll be wishing that you were in a holding cell at the Modesto sheriff's office when I get through with you.
You know what else I hate about you? I hate the way that you talk. You're always so damn smarmy like Bill O'Reilly or Bill Maher on some kinda acid-washed ego trip. I hate the way that you say people's names, especially my name. Chad, Brad, Thad, what's in a name anyway? What's in your name, Torture? A big man with a big blade, that big gun and that big knife? What's in your name? What's in your eyes? Do you see the horror of a thousand genocides when you lay your head down to sleep? Is there anything that I should offer you, scary man? A new shade of crazy, a new taste of enlighten mint, oh so refreshing! What do I propose? I propose that you join me for a walk on the wild side, like Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground.
Now that I've made my proposal, I also have a query. Tell me what you think about this. Is it really better to keep your mouth shut and appear foolish than to open it and remove all doubt? Foolishness is subjective, one man's foolishness is another man's wisdom. For example some might say that I'm a fool for speaking ill of the undefeated undisputed pound for pound top ranked wrestler in the world. I don't think I'm being foolish, I think I'm getting inside of your head, you twit, you nitwit you! This is a contest that you cannot win, Torture, because I am a master of mind games! Hey dummy I bet you're too stupid to realize when someone is insulting you, hey old man? I'm giving you grade-A bulletin board material, you old geezer. You're an old man sitting in your rocking chair. You better stay in L.A., don't bother with that cold Chicago weather, who needs it? In fact you should move down to Florida with all the other senior citizens."
Evans takes a long sip from the cup and keeps drinking until there's nothing left. Evans turns the cup upside down to confirm that there's nothing left, and stumbles over to the liquor cabinet, nearly knocking over a lamp on his way over there. Evans grabs the bottle of Hennessy, takes a big swig and walks back to the couch, bottle in hand.
Chad Evans: "Oh man this is good shit. Who needs sex when I've got you, Hennessy baby! Haha... Oh wow there's a camera in front of me. That's right I was talking to my friend Torture. Mr. Torture, there's something that you need to understand, a little bit of food for thought. I'm Brock Lesnar in this equation and you're Randy Couture, you overrated bag of dinosaur bones! You're an old man fumbling for your reading glasses and your brain pills. You and I are relatively close in age, I believe that you're 23 or 24 years old and I know that I'm 22, but your soul and your spirit are old and dead inside, Torture. You might as well be a thousand years old and I might as well be a newborn baby. I am pure and vital, beaming with the essence of life. You, sir, you are decayed and rusting. I've seen men tremble with the look of fear in their eyes at the mere mention of your name, Torture. Do you think I'm scared? Hell no! I laugh in the face of your aura and mystique, your holier than thou attitude, your sneer and your smirk and most of all I laugh at your threats of bodily harm. I'm more scared of being eaten by clowns when I fall asleep than I am of facing you... sissybitch!"
Evans takes another swig of the Hennessy, holding the bottle up and drinking from the bottle for several moments, before placing it down on the table next to him. Evans walks over to the sofa and lays down in a reclined position with his feet up, a very satisfied expression on his face, a sort of self-satisfied smile. After a few seconds of gloating and reveling in his trash talking achievement, Evans looks toward the camera and he stares for a moment as if pondering some deep thought. Then, after a few moments, Evans' eyes grow wide and he jumps up from the sofa.
Chad Evans: "Oh my God... oh no... what have I done? Torture, I'm so sorry! I don't know what got into me! Oh God, what have I done? Please don't let him hurt me! He can't see this video, I have to stop the camera, I can't let anybody see this video. How do I stop the damn video?!"
Evans, clearly in a state panicked, picks the camera up and turns it away. We see an office desk with a computer and some audio/video equipment, then the camera is placed down on the desk. Next to the desk is a mirror in which we can see the reflection of Evans picking up a cell phone and frantically dialing a phone number.
Chad Evans: "Bolts, it's me, it's Chad. I think I made a big mistake. I was doing that internet video thing that I told you about and I had too much Hennessy and I started talking shit about Torture, really bad shit. I think he's going to hurt me."
Evans pauses for a moment as if listening to the party on the other line, presumably his trainer Bolts Quackenbush.
Chad Evans: "I think I turned the camera off, let me check."
In the mirror we see a reflection of Evans walking toward the camera. Suddenly we see the image of Evans staring directly into the camera while holding his cellphone to his head.
Chad Evans: "The red light is still on, how do I turn it off? No, I've never used it before. Some guy from the internet sent it to me the other day. OK, I'll just unplug it then."
Evans turns the camera to the floor and all we can see is the hardwood floor panels and Evans' shoes. Suddenly the camera feed goes dead.
