Friday, 29 September 2034
Corbin, Kentucky
What if....
Everyone loves a what if story, so let's tell you one. What if J2H didn't have the money he did and didn't take wrestling seriously....
It's a path many wrestlers have to choose between in their careers when the question what am I doing this for seems to come up in to their heads. It might be after a damning loss, it might be after not having the success you expected to have at that point of their career, it might even be after getting hurt seriously for the first time in their career, but every wrestler at some point, will ask themselves that question. It's not always about that question though, it's about the answer. What are your levels? Do you want to be the best you can be or are you just happy scraping a living and not really giving a damn about anything else.
Well what if J2H was one of those people? What if he didn't care about the fame, or the hard work to get there?
It was a time to suspend belief as we jump eleven years in to the future to a place called Corbin, Kentucky, a place many probably haven't even heard of, let alone had the urge to find on the map or go and visit. A forty year old J2H sat in a dimly lit locker room, but the toned body from modern days had never been and haggard looking shadow of what could have been, sat on an old wooden bench as a light flickered in the room.
J2H: Place so shit, can't even fixed the lights.
His voice was less smooth, more gruff then the modern day version, as if years of fast food and cigarettes had taken its toll on him. He looked towards dripping water in the corner of the room and shook his head in disappointment as he reached down in a bag next to him, reaching in and pulling out a bottle of cheap scotch and placed it on the bench next to him. He fished his hand in once more, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter, pulling one from the box and holding it in his teeth. A flick of the lighter sent and orange and blue flame dancing towards the end of the tobacco filled tube and he breathed in the toxic concoction of seven thousand plus chemicals.
J2H: That hit the spot.
A cough came from his forty year old lungs, the smoke blowing in different directions as he reached for the bottle of scotch and unscrewed the cap. It took him seconds to lift the bottle towards his mouth, removing the cigarette from his lips with his left hand and glugging from the bottle after a quick movement of his right arm. He pulled the bottle from his lips, his face wincing at the cheapness of the alcohol and that added burn that comes with inferior brands.
J2H: Ugh...
It was all he could muster as the scotch hit home and his eyes looked around the room once more and he let out of a sigh. He raised the cigarette again, putting it between his lips and taking another inhale of thick smoke before blowing it across the empty room. The room didn't stay empty too long as his attention moved to the doorway and the promoter of tonight's show, a man with a balding head and a bad comb over walked towards him in a suit that looked like it had come from a thrift store twenty years ago, stood in the doorway. He walked across the room, cutting the space between them down in just a few seconds.
Promoter: James, you can't smoke it here!
J2H scoffed as he took another puff from the dwindling down cigarette and blew smoke in a disrespectful manner at the promoter, not really caring what he has to say. He reached for the bottle once more, lifting it up and taking another swig before screwing up his face at the bitter taste.
J2H: I can do what the fuck I want and you don't pay me enough to care about this place or the rules, so fuck off.
Frustration instantly hit the promoters face as he looked at the former SCW star, instinctively running his hand over his hair and messing up his bad comb over.
Promoter: You can get the building shut down because of that and you shouldn't be drinking before a match.
J2H looked at him through eyes filled with contempt and a mouth full of gritted teeth.
J2H: Again, you don't pay me enough for me to give a fuck, you don't pay me enough to be here... In fact, what shit box town are we in right now?
Promoter: Corbin, Kentucky.
He shook his head as he looked at the promoter.
J2H: A place where the best part of the town is the sign that reads your now leaving Corbin, Kentucky. I used to go on world tours, I used to wrestle on television, I used to travel the world and now I'm in hick town USA.
The promoter was clearly uneasy at J2H's outburst against the town.
Promoter: I grew up here.
J2H lifted the cigarette back to his lips and inhales deeply once more, letting out a cough as his lungs cleared of the toxic smoke. He dropped the cigarette to the floor, using his tattered wrestling boots to stump out the last of the burning tobacco and looked the promoter in the eyes.
J2H: You have my sympathies.
Again, the promoter looked uncomfortably at J2H, his eyes glancing towards the bottle as J2H picked it up for another drink, followed by the screwed up face. The promoter quickly tried to change the subject.
Promoter: We need to run through the show. You're on first.
J2H quickly put his hand up to the promoter, stopping him in his tracks, much to his frustration.
J2H: First? You have me curtain jerking? Are you fucking insane? I'm J2H! I was on SCW television, I was a former roulette and tag champion! I was someone people wanted to see every week and you got me opening the show in front of what, fifty people?
Promoter: Forty five confirmed people, but we expect more then that with walk up sales.
J2H: Great so we might expect forty eight then. You want me to open the show in front of forty five confirmed hicks and a couple of sisters slash wives that might show up. You want me to do that when I'm J2H? I was on some of the biggest shows in history and you want me to do that.
He stood up in frustration and it was clear to see the years had not been kind to the physique of J2H. His stomach hung over his wrestling shorts, almost covering the top half of the band. He took a half stumble towards the promoter.
J2H: I deserve better then this shit you're offering.
Promoter: It's what you agreed on when we spoke on the phone.
J2H turned his back on the Promoter for a few seconds, his eyes closed, his teeth grinding against each other as he spun back.
J2H: Well I must have been drunk or fucking stupid to agree to this bullshit! I must have been out of my mind to ever consider coming to a place where the average amount of teeth in people's heads just happens to be three! I must have been on something to ever agree to work in this place, in this town around people with IQs lower then their shoes sizes.
He took a deep breath as he looked around the run down makeshift locker room and back to the promoter.
J2H: I could go back to Sin City Wrestling if I wanted!
The promoter tried to hide a smile as J2H turned around in frustration. He knew J2H could never go back to Sin City Wrestling after he left because he chose the path of least resistance, the path of laziness over working hard.
J2H: But fine, you want me to wrestle first, that's fine. I'll do it because the sooner I do, the sooner I get out of this place and head somewhere much better.
Promoter: Right, so you go out there and you cut a promo about your opponent, a wrestler called Turbo, then he interrupts with an attack, you guys go back and forth for ten minutes and he beats you.
J2H couldn't believe what he was hearing as he looked at the promoter through narrowed eyes. He had come all the way to Kentucky to wrestle for ten minutes.
J2H: Are you fucking for real? I've come all this way to wrestle first and that time? Are you insane? I should be here putting on the show of their lives and I'm losing to a fucking guy called Turbo? Are you seriously out of your mind!? I'm the biggest star you've ever had here, I'm the biggest star you ever had here, so why the fuck am I losing to a guy called Turbo.
The promoter knew J2H was only a star in his own head, he knew his career had not gone the way he would have liked it to with minimal effort.
Promoter: Turbo is a local guy, he wrestles for me a lot, so he's going over in this one.
The thought of laying the promoter out with a right hook had crossed J2H's mind but he closed his eyes and took a very deep breath before looking at him again.
J2H: Fine, I will go out there and cut a promo, I will do the job, I will give them a match they would remember but I want you waiting for me right behind the curtain with my money so I can do that and get the fuck out of this place, agreed?
A look of relief covered the promoters face as he felt he'd won this round, unaware J2H might have had other plans.
Promoter: Great, you have a deal, show starts in two minutes so get ready.
The promoter left the room quicker then he walked in and once again, J2H reached for the bottle, lifting it to his mouth for one more shot of cheap scotch, before putting it back in to his sports bag. After pulling the zipper tight, J2H stood up and pulled the bag over his shoulder and headed towards the entrance. He saw the promoter and slid the bag from his shoulder and pushed it towards the promoters chest.
J2H: Hold this, get my money ready.
Generic music played as J2H stepped through the curtain and couldn't believe his eyes. A tired old ring was set up in the middle of a run down hall, just a barricade between floor seats and nothing else. No protective mats covered the floor, just cold, hard wood. J2H walked to the ring to boos and nothing more, zero theatrics or any sense of caring. He got in the ring, looking around at the people there, estimating maybe thirty and took the microphone off the ring announcer.
J2H: Cut that shit music that sounded like a thirteen year old made it on an old beat up computer while on a break from watch his sister in the shower.
Instant heat came from the crowd as J2H smirked.
J2H: You know who the fuck I am and you're probably wondering what a superstar like me is doing in a town like this. Well you're not the only one asking that fucking question cause I've been asking myself that question from the second I happened to be here and I can not wait to leave this damn place. I was told a few minutes ago I'm facing some hometown guy called Turbo.
The thirty or so people in attendance cheered the name, but J2H didn't care.
J2H: Original name bro. Being from around here, I guess you guys have a lot in common with him. I presume he too only had two teeth and introduces his wife to people as his sister.
More boos hit the ring, but J2H still didn't care. In this moment, he was numb.
J2H: I don't wanna be here longer then I have to be, so bring this backwards fuck out here right now so I can beat him and get the hell out of here.
Generic music played once more and a man with a mask ran to the ring at full speed. A referee had been waiting outside the ring and took their cue to slide in. Turbo quickly slid under the ropes and in to the ring. The feeling of impatience rattled through J2H as he looked towards the referee and waved his hand to hurry things along. The referee called for the bell.
J2H: A match to remember...
He beckoned at Turbo to run to him and Turbo understood, running to him to allow J2H to duck the clothesline. Turbo bounced back off the ropes and hit J2H with a high knee to the head. J2H crumbled to the floor and Turbo went for the cover.
ONE!
TWO!
THREE!?!
An air of shock descended on the building as J2H smiled and rolled out of the ring, turning back to just flip the bird at a stunned Turbo and referee. He walked back to the curtain and through it, back to the promoter.
Promoter: What the hell was that?
J2H smirked at him as he pulled the bag from the promoters hands, just looking him square in the eyes.
J2H: I promised you a match you'd remember, that people would remember and they will remember this. Your little home grown boy just got a big time win against someone who has been on TV, he can dine out on that for a long time and I can get the fuck out of here and never look back, so pay me and let me go.
The promoter looked uneasy but reached in to his pocket and pulled out a single one hundred dollar bill and handed it to J2H. J2H looked at it and walked past the man, hoisting his bag over his shoulder and making his way to the exit. He didn't feel the need to shower after a four second match or even change, just wanted out of the place as quickly as he could. He pushed the door open and made his way towards the parking lot.
J2H: Where the fuck did I park?
His eyes moved around before settling on his car, an old beat up red car with a huge scrape down the side of it and a yellow door. He made his way to it and opened the door, the door clearly not locked, owing to the fact J2H thought no one would steal that piece of shit. He threw the bag in the passenger seat and moved around the car to the drivers seat. He pulled open the stiff door and took a seat inside. He reached for his bag, pulling out the packet of cigarettes and placing one between his lips and scrambling around for the lighter. A few seconds later, the cigarette was lit and J2H looked around the surrounding area.
J2H: What the fuck did I do with my life?
A moment of clarity set in for the former Sin City Wrestling star.
J2H: I should have worked harder...
He slumped his head on the steering wheel, countless thoughts running though his head as he realised he was the only one to blame for his career going down to this....
*******
29 September 2023.
San Francisco, California
It was a stunning afternoon in The Golden Gate city, and it was as alive as to be expected for the forth most densely populated city in America, but J2H had found a quiet place to sit and talk. With the Golden Gate Bridge in the shot, he sat down at the waters edge and looked towards the huge landmark stealing up a lot of real estate on the camera. His eyes turned back towards the camera on the right of his face, the wind blowing his hair from right to left, just a cool breeze just strong enough to move his blonde lochs.
J2H: Everything you just seen Jaycee, everything that aired before this, the whole what if scenario, that's where you're heading.
He was never one for giving any kind of advice to anyone but he smiled at the thought of the tie in from what just aired.
J2H: We're wrestlers and it's not about some bullshit people think where if the fans talk about you, you become popular and able to take on the world, work anywhere, have a spot at the top of every card, be known everywhere you go. It's not fucking like that. You have to put in the work, the effort to be where you want to be in this fucked up world we call professional wrestling and you seem to be going the wrong direction. You seem to be running away from what people consider a success. You're sitting there wasting yourself away Jaycee and believe it or not, I used to be just like that.
He thought back on the days of humiliation that he suffered at the hands of everyone.
J2H: You was probably watching me all those years ago as a teen, watching by rise, but there was a time before that when I was everybody's little bitch. Let me refresh your memory and give you a little inside information. I bought my way in to SCW, charity shit because I could, not because I wanted to put in the effort, work for embarrassing shows and companies in piss smelling social clubs full of drug dealers and other criminals who found a place to do their dirty work away from the eyes of the law. I didn't want that bullshit, I wanted a shortcut and Christian Underwood did a charity auction to be a wrestler for a bit. Probably gave the money to some shitty animal charity or something like that, but he did that, I had the money, I had my foot in the door with no real effort. I sat backstage that day, looking at the eyes upon me, looking at everyone thinking who the fuck is this kid and what right does he have to be amongst us?
A slightly pained look crossed his face as he thought back.
J2H: The locker room leaders were dicks Jaycee, they didn't deserve hero worship, they were just straight up entitled dicks. I was this kid with a ego that kept most of their hate shielded and all I had to do was walk to the ring, act all high and mighty and go home, but humiliation number one happened that night. Just before the show, I was told there was an idea for me. In my head, I'm thinking great, then I was told I was gonna be given a shitty little belt and lose it to a fucking Teddy Bear. Do you remember that shit from back in the day Jaycee? Do you remember watching me lose to a fucking Teddy Bear because that damn thing was getting more of a push then anyone else backstage. It was child's play, it was embarrassing as fuck, I knew it was people trying to make me look like shit but I did it. I went out there and make an ass of myself and that's when SCW took advantage of me Jaycee.
He shook his head as his mind drifted back to some unpleasant incidences.
J2H: For a one off night where I didn't do anything, and I was meant to go find a trainer if I wanted to be a wrestler and come back, that was the offer, but they thought they could take liberties with me and fucking hell, they did just that.
He rubbed the side of his head.
J2H: I was learning on the job in every goofy match they could think of, I was covered in plum pudding at Christmas, and fake blood at Halloween, all under the guise of roulette matches. I was beat up by old guys and thrown in trash cans Jaycee, that was my fucking life. I could have been one of the famous Seven Deadly Sins, but the thought of working with Despayre and Rage made my skin crawl, and at that point, I had a simple choice to make. I had to decide what kind of wrestler I wanted to be. I had to choose where I wanted my career to take me, fuck, I had to decide if I even wanted a career in wrestling. I had the money to the point I didn't need wrestling, I didn't need to see those smirks on people's faces backstage, but something about me had caught on with the people. Maybe they wanted to see me humiliate myself every fucking week or something, maybe they wanted to see me get beat up, but people knew the face.
He pointed to his face but doesn't show emotion.
J2H: I could have gone home to my huge mansion, I could have sat there watching old movies and using years of top education to forge my path in life, or I could have fought for something more. I decided to fight for something more, so I searched for the best fucking trainer out there and I found him. You can talk about the best gyms till your blue in the face, The GO Gym, Wolfslair, Hero Academy, Hells Gate and of course your very own one Jaycee, Jet City. Each of those have had former World Champions teaching future World Champions, but I refused to be a generic wrestler turned out by the same old formula. I wanted unique and I got that.
A half smile appeared on his face.
J2H: See now you've had the advantage there Jaycee because you came out of one of those world class training gyms, you didn't have to suffer the embarrassments that I had to, you had a step above most people, but you're finding yourself in the same position I was in all that time ago. You have the choice to make, step up or get stepped on and you find yourself in a great place to do just that.
A smirk appeared on J2H's face as he breathed in the cool, fresh air.
J2H: You're in the biggest match of your career and you have disappointed everyone around you so far, but here you are, by order of Michael Harris to have the biggest match you're ever likely to have. It's a chance for you to step up and show the world you're not a loser. It's a chance for you to sit there and try and take things more seriously. I had to choose between being that guy who people pissed on, or become that guy who pissed on others and I stepped up and look at me now. I chose not to become a joke and put in the effort and you're in the same spot.
He cracked his knuckles and looked at the water in front of him.
J2H: Ben Jordan might see you as a future World Champion, he might see you as someone with potential but it's fucking amazing how different someone else can see you because I don't see you as that. I see you as the guy who's gonna drift through his career, clinging on to a well paid SCW contract for as long as he can because deep down he knows that all that awaits him in the big wide world when that contract is done, is twenty beer soaked people in a tiny room who think that you absolutely suck. Your career is gonna take a nose dive when you leave this place and you'll be working for places who can't air their fucking shows on time and claim tape delay.
He looked at the camera with a tilted head and a smirk on his face.
J2H: Yeah, it's 2023 and shit places still use that bullshit.
He rolled his eyes.
J2H: Anyway Jaycee, this is your dilemma at this point, this is where you need to choose if you're going to be the man who steps up and stops wasting his career being lazy, doing fucking nothing of note and cruising through a contract you haven't justified from the second the ink dried. It's time to either shit or get off the pot Jaycee because like I told Kris the other day, you either get your head in the game or it's gonna get real ugly real fast.
J2H waved his finger at the camera.
J2H: Just don't think you're getting a win out of this, far from it Jaycee. I can turn people in to stars just by beating them. Carter's star went through the roof after a match with me to the point I picked him personally to take on Michael Harris. You can be the same because I am gonna be your motivation because on Sunday, you're gonna feel that buzz of being in the ring with someone like me, you're gonna feel the buzz of real competition and nothing short of it. That kind of buzz is addictive Jaycee, that kind of buzz is something you can't get from anything else and it could give you the motivation to drag your ass off the floor, stop being the forgotten member of Jet City. No bullshit love in's like your thing with Ben Jordan, this is the addiction you're gonna need. Now believe me when I say you won't be winning this one at all, but this is your chance to have that star of yours start to rise, this is that chance for you to have people put eyes on you. This is not a time for you to be winning but it is a time for people to take a little more notice of you.
He takes a long deep breath before locking eyes with the camera again.
J2H: Take this one seriously Jaycee because if you don't, then this doesn't end well for you, you might as well show up, lay down, give up and I put you in my rear view mirror and start thinking about what fresh hell I'm gonna put Michael Harris through. Let's be real, I shouldn't even be taking you seriously Jaycee because you're a waster, a waste of talent, because there's a block in our own mind that won't let you be anything more then this, but I don't like wrestling chumps, I want the best everyone can offer, it's how I get the eyes look at me and hear those voices say just how good I am. I don't want some half effort bullshit from you because you know you've already lost. I still want you to give it absolutely everything you've got. I refuse to look like shit because you don't put in any effort so put in the fucking effort, accept the fact that you won't win but you will walk out of this match smelling like roses. Go and make those Jet City people proud even in defeat.
He stood up and looked around for a second or two.
J2H: I don't accept shit in the ring against me. I don't care how much you've lost in the past, I don't care if you are in a miserable mood. When you're in the ring with me, it's one hundred and ten percent or go the fuck home. There's more then enough people out there willing to step up, willing to take your place in this whole thing. There's thousands of wrestlers out there that will kill for a chance to be in the spotlight Michael Harris gave you. This is a career defining defeat for you Jaycee so try and keep up, try and look as good as you can because I'm telling you that you won't win but put in the effort at least then when you go backstage, sit there and reflect and ask yourself one simple question.
He raised his forefinger.
J2H: Do you want more matches against top stars like me, or do you want to break your body down in front of hicks for fifty bucks a night?
He paused for a second.
J2H: The choice is yours but I'm demanding you step up to me, I'm demanding you do something more in this one night then you've ever done in your career because if not, I'm taking you apart and waking up on Monday morning not giving a shit. I'm waking up and knowing that you'll be working for peanuts in dive towns in the near future and there will not be a single ounce of sympathy from me at all. That's real talk bitch!
J2H walked away as the camera fades to black.
