The deadline for Clmax Control 16 has now passed.

 ”Every story has a beginning, but it is never really where it begins.  And on the same token, every story has an end, but not often does it truly end where the story left off.  I would like to go on to tell you that this story is any different, but it isn’t.  The only way it would be complete is if I were on my death bed, and thankfully I am not.  I am sure Mr. Kraven would love to think he might put me there when we meet up at London Brawling, but sadly for him, he will live to see “his championship” around my fucking waist.

“As I left off last, I battled the images in the mirror pretty hard, and quite fortunately, I had been gotten by what I saw staring back at me.  I saw a filthy mess of a man who had fallen into a stupor of drinking and lazing around rather than focusing on the amazing opportunity that I knew was right around the corner for me.  When Misty left me at the altar, it screwed with my head… more than just a little I might add.  I felt a lot of pent up rage, anger, depression, despair, anxiety, manic, mania all rolled up into a lead ball that rested in the pit of my stomach.  I am not going to sit here and say that it is an excuse for trying to piss away an opportunity, but it certainly is the reason why I acted the way I did.

“I had a major wake up call right before leaving Paris to Berlin.  Just because it came in the shape of a hallucination taking shape of my deceased ex-girlfriend doesn’t mean that it loses any validity, and I wanted to pretend it did.  I wanted to set myself up for failure so that I could stay in a comfortable position of a regional legend.  The pressure of going on to become a World Class legend was something that practically put me out of commission five years ago.  Aside from a busted knee that I am lucky enough to have back at one hundred percent, I felt the pressure with a family and a fiancée, to stay out of the ring.

“When I woke up from that darkly devastating dream, I realized that I am a World Class legend, and I always have been.  I am just waiting for my time to rise up above the stars so that I might shine beyond the others.  But, before I could show the world that I am the next big time star, I had to prove a few things to myself.  I had to prove that I am capable of attaining what I want, regardless of what others will think of me.  I had to learn to do exactly what I want to do, and have no shame.  This lesson would prove quite useful to me.  Bare with me just a little longer here…”

-:{The Hangover}:-

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Drinking, partying, and surrounding myself with distractions didn’t seem to last quite long enough.  I did everything I could not to think about Misty, and it just didn’t seem to last long enough.  Everyone had a piece to say as if it made everything better by them bringing it up.  Calling her a bitch just didn’t seem to do the trick for me.  Believe me when I say that I wish it did.  My brothers and the rest of my family tested this theory.  Kittie did it, and just about every fan I encountered along the way did it too.  The one person who understood that was the person I had least expected to.  Misty’s sister Desiree approached me on my way out of the bar in Paris, the night before we left for Berlin, and she grabbed onto my arm as I tried to avoid the most awkward conversation I could imagine.

Desiree:  Spike, I wanted to make sure you were okay…

”Great, ANOTHER one of these…  Smile and act like it doesn’t phase you, Spikey boy…”

Spike:  Yeah, I’m fine.  Thanks for a…

Desiree:  Lying.  I thought you gave that up in GXW…  I sat back and watched as everyone badmouthed Misty to you and I saw how it hurt you.  I know more than anyone what a terrible person she is.  She put me through hell since the day I was born.

Spike:  I promise, I’m okay.  It’s been a month now.

Desiree:  For what it’s worth, you were the reason I ever came back around her.  Dixie and I are here for whatever you need.  But, the one thing that would piss her off more than anything would be for you to go on and rise to the top.  Show her that she held you back while you held her up.  Everyone back at that table is rooting for you to win in London.  Do us all a favor and don’t give up.

I was flabbergasted as to what to say in response, but she wrapped her arm around me, and gave me the first hug I’ve had since this European tour started.  It was nice, but it was only another distraction…

I stumble through the streets of Paris, and here I walk alone.  I see the young star crossed lovers curled up on a park bench watching the cityscape lit up by the bright moon.  I stop and look at the very same sight.  My face drains, making the “hangover” official.  I look back over to the bench, and I see what could have, and should have been.  The couple on the bench is Misty and I.  We just act as if there is no one else in the world right now.  We are content with the fact, and we don’t crave rings, or ceremonies, or anything material.  We were never about that, but apparently that was a delusion I had created in my mind.

I watch as she leans her head back, and I place my hand gently under her chin.  Our lips meet in a burning fury of passion, and I can’t help but look away from the mental flashback.  I take a deep breath to put on a brave face when I realize the mask is cracking a bit.  A single tear rolls down my cheek as I wrap my coat around me.  With every bit of strength I possess, I choke back any further tears, because I swore I wouldn’t let her break me.  I swore I wouldn’t allow my sadness or my anger to get the better of me.  The man who never cries is one big fucking mess right about now, the tears glistening off of my cheek in the city of lights.  Every happy couple I encountered walking through the park, near the canal, the Eifel Tower, and the city streets that stood between the club and my hotel room feels like one my knife to my heart.  A sinister glare that is ever so familiar returns to my face as I imagine doing every single one of them a favor and put them out of their impending misery.

I continue to walk on, and it feels like a blink of an eye brings me to the streets of Berlin.  The sobriety had become so foreign to me, and it felt like a medicine that goes down slow, painful, and bitter.  I walk into the nearest pub to my hotel. The real test awaited me.  I put a smile on my face as I walked in to meet my family members.  I spent several hours there laughing, chit chatting with my family, and getting built up for to perform in front of every single one of them like my uncle Erik, my cousins Sebastian, Gunter, and Selena, and about a dozen others, and make a fool of myself.  Of course I didn’t know that yet.  I figured if I sobered up, things would fall into place. As you know, they certainly did not.

Finally it is time for me to say my goodbyes with hugs and handshakes.  Tommy and Jamie stay behind as they are introduced the newest member of the Staggs family, Kittie.  I felt it best to spare myself the impending jokes at Kittie’s non-German heritage and her backlash, and I hit the streets of Berlin once again.  In another flash that feels so surreal, I am leaving the hall, embarrassed and covered in barbeque sauce.  I walked past the masses who want to shower me with their pity, but I need that about as bad as I need another drink.  Then there was the word vomit… No, real vomit… in the middle of the street like it was Mardi Gras and I was a dumb drunk blonde with a hundred sets of beads around her neck.

As my guts wrench, I feel the hangover really set in.  I fell down to my knees, and I prayed to God for the first time in about… well ever.  I prayed for him to help me change my ways, to give me guidance, or just put me out of my misery.  For what it is worth, my prayers were answered as I stand before you today.  The lights in the street seem to point me forward, and I get back up and I keep walking.  As I pass a fountain, I dip my head into it and wash off the sauce, and run my fingers through my hair to get it back to the way I like it.  I ripped my shirt off, and walk in my stained undershirt.  I would swear it was right then and there that I walked on to London.  In my mind, I didn’t stop until I was there.

I blinked my eyes, and in front of me was the biggest reality check imaginable.  Big Ben stood so majestically in front of me.  Not only did it let me know I was in London, but as it struck midnight, it felt as if it were telling my that my time was… is now.  This sign that felt like fate, it sent shivers up and down my spine, and eventually throughout my entire body.  I stood there for a good twenty minutes, completely in awe.  It was then that I realized something further.  My eyes felt on fire as if I hadn’t slept in days, but I saw it clear as day, that I must shamelessly go after everything that I want out of life, rather than repressing it.  So I marched on through the streets of London and on my way to the hotel.  I had been so consumed by my own self pity, and the pity of others, I lost sight of anything other than the gold…

Then there was him… This young man was standing in front of the hotel, smoking a cigarette, sporting red cheeks and bloodshot eyes.  As I passed by, our eyes locked, and instantly we understood the other’s pain.  His was just as intense as mine, and obviously much fresher than mine. I pass him up and place my hand on the door to the hotel when I feel a warm breath on my neck.  I start to turn my head when I feel the wet tongue rolling up my earlobe, and I hear her whisper.

Roxanne:  You know misery loves company.  Talk to the poor guy.  It might make you feel better.

I turn around and she is gone.  I look back to the guy standing there in a suit.  Underneath his feet is a bouquet of roses smashed and scattered underneath his feet.  I sigh as I slowly walk up to him.  Why did I want to butt into this guys business, because I certainly didn’t appreciate others doing that to me?  Honestly, if a stranger would have come up to me, I would have wound up with an assault charge.  As I approach him, he looks down to the ground and takes a long drag from his cigarette.  Uncomfortably, he runs his hands over his closely trimmed light brown hair, then he looks at me, and in a light British accent, he mutters in my direction.

Man: What you starin’ at, mate?  Lookin fer a good fuckin’ kickin’?

This was the BBC version of what I would have said in the same situation, so I can’t help but smile and let out a bit of a chuckle.  I lean against the same wall as him and look up at the stars.

Spike:  You got a cigarette I could I could bum from you, man?

Man:  Why the bloody 'ell would I do that, ah? I don't know you, and I ain't no pissing shop!

He stifles back his tears as he straightens up his posture.  He wipes away at his face, masking it with a yawn as if to try convincing me he is just really tired.  I shrugged my shoulders but I stay exactly where I am.  He shakes his head and pulls out a cigarette case and extends it to me.  I pull one out, and as I fumble in my pockets for a lighter, he lights it for me in a surprisingly friendly gesture.

Spike:  Thanks bud.  I’m Spike by the way.

Man:  Liam…

We shake hands for a second, and we spend a lot of time resenting the beauty of the city with many words unspoken.  I suppose curiosity gets the better of him as he turns around with a forced sly smile on his face as if he is trying to convince himself that he is okay.

Liam:  So why were you blubberin’ like a little bitch?  Got your knickers in a twist something?

Spike: Or something… How about you?  Football team get their arses stomped?

I knew the answer to that was about the same as my own answer, especially as I watched him try to kick away the flower pedals without me noticing.  As he gazed over to me to see me looking down, he takes a long drag from his cigarette.  As if to give me a “fuck it” gesture, he shrugs his shoulders as he exhales.  He reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out a little black box.  He tucks it back into his pocket quicker than he had pulled it out and he goes back to staring up at the stars.  I nodded my head and pulled out Misty’s engagement ring that I had been keeping in my pants pocket.  I held it up to gleam in the moonlight, and his expression softens up just a bit.

Liam:  Yer bird said no, too?

Spike:  Bird isn’t the animal I would use to describe her.  More like a snake. And no.  She said yes.  We were going to get married a month ago, seems like ages though… Was standing at the altar, looking into her bright eyes, and she kicked me in the balls, and threw the ring down at me in front of our families.  We have a daughter together and she just vanishes, leaving me to clean up the mess… Second time, I swear.  At least this time, I kinda knew what to do.

Liam:  Huh… Well ain’t that a shitter?  Fuck them birds anyway, mate.  I need to get bloody wankered, I mean pissed as a fart. Care to join?

I would have in a heartbeat, but I looked back to the door of the hotel.  I caught a glimpse of Roxanne giving me a dirty look and shaking her head from side to side.  I reached over and patted Liam’s shoulder and brought him in just a step closer.

Spike:  I appreciate that, bud… But I am off the booze at the moment.  This isn’t so fresh to me anymore like it is for you.  Look, I’m in town for the Sin City Wrestling show at the Royal Albert Hall fighting Jack Kraven

Liam:  Bloody ‘ell, I thought you looked familiar.  That Staggs bloke, erm, not the stupid one, not the old one, not the Schwarzenegger one, and not the new one… Spike!  Spike Staggs standin’ right in front of me face.

Spike:  In the flesh.  Going to take the NWA World Heavyweight Championship from Jack Kraven, and you won’t have to struggle to remember my name then.

Liam stepped back and I could see a bit of surprise and joy on his face as he perked out his chest. He gave me a sort of “bro bump” style hug and exclaimed out into the streets in a manner I could barely understand.  He ran around the empty streets whooping it up better than any fan I’ve ever seen.  Once he was winded enough, he came back around and leaned down to let out a howl that elicits screams from everyone else around.

Liam:  AWW BUGGER OFF YA MISERABLE TITS!  I’m meetin’ Spike FUCKING Staggs out here!

And it was then that the young man was on his way to getting the cops on us, so I figured we could bring the party off of the streets.  In the back of my mind, I knew what I wanted, and as much as I tried to hide it, I couldn’t keep it down forever.  As we walked through the halls of the hotel, I could feel that little voice inside of my head coaching me on.  The excited young man’s words began to fade into the background as we approach the elevator.  The joy in his eyes caused me to fight back even harder as we get to my floor.  I could feel my heart pounding in my head, and that is all I heard.  I closed my eyes, trying to fight it back, but when the elevator door opens, the urges from my past came back, and my eyes opened up with an extreme intensity.  I grit my teeth as we walk forward, and I try to shout out for him to leave, but the sinister glare of Roxanne as she nods her head seems to almost choke it out of me.

Roxanne:  Do it.  You know you want… You know you want to look deep into his eyes and…

She was right, I wanted to… And as we approached my door, my hands humbled for the room key, shaking and as I picked it up and raised it toward the door, I dropped the key, and before I knew it, my hands are on his shoulders, tossing him into the door.  He looks shocked as do I, but I cannot control taking exactly what I wanted.  Our eyes met, and then… Our lips met in a strange mixture of passion and fury.  He grabs my face and pulls me in further.  Out of the corner of my eyes, Roxanne nods before disappearing down the hallway.  He finally pulls away, looking a bit confused.

Liam:  I ain’t no bender…

Spike:  Never said either of us were…

I reached down and picked up the key to my room and quickly popped open the door.  We backed inside, back to our prior business as I shoved the door closed behind us.  I could give you more details, but the point is that I discovered that if something is there, and attainable, that I should go and grab it.  Seize the opportunity, and show no shame for it.

The next morning when I woke up to Liam shuffling about to pull the rest of his clothes on, I laid back with a free smile on my face.  This is not to come out and say that I am making a lifestyle change, but rather to illustrate that I wanted something and I went after it.  I did so without the slightest bit of shame.  I didn’t even feel ashamed when Liam slipped his shoes on and rushed over toward the door.  I lit a cigarette and pressed it firmly between my lips to take a deep drag.  He hadn’t learned the secret yet, but I certainly did.  Liam looked back to me, but lowered his eyes to the floor.

Liam:  I’ll uhhh… I’ll call ya mate.

Spike:  No you won’t.  You don’t even know my number.  It’s okay, you can go on without regret, bud.  Your ticket will be at the Will Call Center tomorrow.

Liam nodded his head and then he walked out of the room, closing the door behind himself quietly.  As I enjoyed my freedom, and my cigarette, Roxanne walked into my room with a smile as big as my own.  She said nothing, but her eyes said enough.  She all but handed me a pan cookie with big, bold, colorful letters saying “CONGRATULATIONS SPIKE!”  And I all but hugged her…


******************************************************


We fade to the present where Spike is seen in front of a bright spotlight against a blue background.  His face is the only visible space as the light flashes off of his sunglasses.  He sits there silently for a moment, taking a deep breath.  He leans forward, and the camera follows as he speaks into a microphone.

Spike:  And that is the end of this story.  But do not mistake this for the end of my story.  I would truly like to think that my story is just beginning.

Spike clasps his hands in front of him as he stands in front of a podium.  He blinks his eyes as the cameras flash intensely in his face.  He reaches up to adjust the red and black striped tie hanging over his black dress shirt to allow him a bit of room to breath.  He fans out his black suit jacket a bit as he opens his eyes to stare out amongst the crowd of reporters lined up in front of him.  His eyes wander upward to look at the NWA banners hanging throughout the rafters, forming almost an arrow that points directly at him intentionally.  His almost solemn expression brightens up as he switches out to a joyful smile that is practically infectious amongst all of the reporters and fans coming in closer.  Spike nods his head and holds his hand out in front of him.

Spike:  I ask that you please save your questions for the very end, because the story served as merely an introduction, like a “This is Spike Staggs” background story.  That tells but a mere percentage of what I have to say to the “champ”.  I prepared a nice and tidy little speech that stated my diverse feelings on Jack Kraven’s content of character…

Spike holds up a small stack of papers for the audience to see.  The camera zooms in to see scribbles and typed words blurring together.  Spike raises his eyebrows before he flings the papers out into the crowd.  The fans and reporters scramble to pick up the pieces as Spike continues.

Spike:  I am not a neat and tidy person, so to hell with that.  I don’t read prepared statements blankly in front of an audience of blood hungry reporters, and I don’t wear fucking ties and suit jackets!

Spike pulls off the jacket and lays it over the podium as a sort of cushioning as he slowly leans forward.  He pulls the tie from around his neck and tosses it out into the audience as well.  He grabs his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and he slides them over his eyes as his bright white smile gleams in the lights.

Spike:  I want to just cut to the chase because I have training to do, and fans to meet in London.  The idea of Jack Kraven representing the NWA as their World Heavyweight Champion is simply laughable.  Had you asked me two weeks ago, I would have given you an honest opinion that differs heavily from this one.  After the actions of Kraven on Climax Control in Berlin, he proved to be no different than any of the other jackasses running around in boots too big for them, like children imitating grown ups.  The concept simply is laughable, almost adorable.

Spike unbuttons the top button of his shirt as he takes in a deep, stifled breath.  He leans off of the podium a bit and lifts his head away from the microphone, as if looking to the very back of the auditorium.

Spike:  If I have a problem with someone, I have the balls to bring it to that person’s face, and I do it mano y mano.  I don’t play into the politics of inviting friends to fight your battles for you.  Had I wanted to be a big fucking prick, I could have invited my fellow New X-Treme’s out to the ring to manhandle Jack’s sorry ass! … I could have pulled out a steel chair and smashed his fucking head in, but I didn’t.  I carry myself with a true sense of decorum, of the World Class caliber.  But let us not mistake my complaints against the champion for his actions to be purely personal.  I take issue with a man who smiles in your face while knifing you in the back.

Spike reaches to his side and pulls out a water bottle.  He quickly takes a drink of it and places it back underneath the podium.  As the reporters jot down their notes and flash pictures, Spike breathes in through his nose, flaring out his nostrils in the process.

Spike:  If Kraven had a problem with my brother, it is his responsibility to take that up with my brother.  If my brother offended him so badly, my brother has been in his home region for a while now, giving plenty of opportunities to get his hands on that squirrely, spitfire sonuvagun, but he didn’t.  And to take that point just one step further, if he had a problem with me, he should have come out there and told me like a real man.  He chose to stab me in the back simply because he knows I am a threat.  Rather than demoralizing me, he simply showed me that he knows exactly what he is up against, and that puts a smile on my face from ear to motherfucking ear.  What it also shows is that your current, and I do emphasize the word CURRENT, World Heavyweight Champion is nothing but an opportunistic coward who has held onto that belt long enough.  It is time that someone graces the belt with a name that can proudly represent the entire NWA’s combined rosters.

Spike puts his fingers under his chin, stroking it before he raises his sunglasses to his forehead.  He looks out into the crowd as if making eye contact with each and every reporter, fan, and camera staring at him.  His eyes flash out an air of confidence, near arrogance, which is not synonymous with the Spike Staggs we all have grown to know.  As quickly as it flashes, it fades even quicker as he regains his composure.

Spike:  Your champion should not soil the name of this company, and it is about time someone stands up for the virtues and values, however loose they may truly be, that this company stands for.  I am no saint by any means, but I carry honor, respect, sportsmanship, star power, physical power, and a mental prowess that has gone unmatched to this very day.  Kraven has got a strategy mapped out, and he made one major mistake.  He read it out loud in front of a camera. In Vegas, we know when you have a good hand; you hold it close to your chest.  If you have a shit hand, you bluff the hell out of it and make everyone thing you got a royal flush.  I will do Kraven a favor, and say something publicly, in front of everyone here today, and those watching from home.  Allow me a moment to have a heart to heart with you now, because the next time I see you it will be several boot to ass moments…  I have a royal flush in my hand.  I go into every single one of my matches with the winning hand.  Don’t make the mistakes of my past opponents and think of me as the underdog, because it will only end tragically for you.

Spike lightens up his glare as he breaks the staring contest he was having with the main camera.  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.  As his look of disgust fades, and his eyes open, he attains a professional look once again.

Spike:  With that said and on public record, I feel I may continue.  Any NWA champion has a duty to give back to the profession in some way, shape, or form.  Your NWA World Tag Team Champions have done this by travelling to every NWA promotion to call for more participation in their respective division.  They have succeeded in pulling the interest of several SCW tag teams, as well as PRA.  Your NWA Television Champion, Gaetan LaValle has gone on to do the same within his own division, and drawn out the interest of every active NWA promotion.  For these actions, I would like to take a moment to commend them for this.  You have my respect, and as a fellow wrestler, you have my gratitude.  What has Jack Kraven done to promote the Heavyweight Championship?  What has he done to give back to the wrestling community?  He has put on some phenomenal matches, but that isn’t much out of the way of our job as professional wrestlers…

Spike pauses for a brief moment to emphasize his point.  He looks around the room again, drawing in the interest of each and every person in the room.

Spike:  Wouldn’t you like to see someone who goes above and beyond the expectations, instead of a prim donna with a rock star attitude?  I am a rock star, but…  Hey, I promise, I do have a point here… I would like to take a moment to make a major announcement.  Last week, I purchased a property in Las Vegas, Nevada where Sin City Wrestling is based out of.  With the help of my family back in the proud nation of Germany, I have people working hard to change the abandoned warehouse into a beacon of hope for those breaking into the business… I am transforming it from a rundown eyesore to a top notch training facility…

The crowd almost comically gasps in astonishment as a smile of pure joy spreads across Spike’s face.  He soaks it up for a moment as the audience begins clapping briefly.  He holds his hand up in a polite gesture for silence, and after the crowd hushes, Spike lowers his hand back to the podium.  He leans forward toward the microphone once more.

Spike:  That is right.  Once I return to Vegas, I will be inspecting the improvements of the facility and if all goes well and everything is up to code, The Staggs Dungeon will be open for business, and I will begin molding OUR FUTURE!!!

Spike raises his arms in the air and the crowd continues their previous round of applause.  Spike stunts it like a rock star as he tosses his sunglasses off into the crowd.  He goes back to the podium as if his outburst hadn’t happened, even though the grin on his face stays otherwise.  He raises his hand in the air in a presidential manner as the cheering finally starts to die down.

Spike:  There will be no votes on this matter, but I promise I will come out of this match with a landslide victory.  I will hoist that belt up high in the air with pride.  I will wear it with honor, pride, dignity, and integrity as I represent the National (e)Wrestling Alliance.  I will go on to prove to every person that ever told me I would be nothing, that they were wrong.  I will go on to show everyone who ever told me I could be anything I wanted to be that they were right.  I will go on to make them proud, while teaching the next generation all of the things that were taught to me.  This victory will be dedicated to all of them, especially my fallen friend, Apocalypse.  And with that said, the talking is over.  The next time you see me, the words will be gone and the actions will speak ten times louder…  Thank you all for coming today. And tune in to London Brawling for the true beginning of my story, and much, much more.

Spike bows his head as he replaces the microphone back down into the stand, and he steps away from the podium.  The audience applauds him as he slowly steps away from the spotlight.  He walks toward the curtains, but rather than exiting, he walks down the stairs and begins mingling with the audience as they crowd around him.  The scene fades… TO BLACK!!

 The Deadline has come and gone for 4-15-12 edition of Climax Control

 ”You are angry! …”

“You are sad…”

“You are PISSED! …”

“You are lonely..”

“You are… kinda hungry…”

So many things I tried to tell myself after the “incident” at Climax Control on March 25th, 2012.  It was the big day.  It was the day where I would spend the rest of my life with the one person I cared enough about to let into my heart.

”I loved her.  I LOVE her!”

“She’s a rotten, conniving, bitch!”

“She is my soulmate!”

“She can rot in hell for all eternity!”

“I miss the smell of her hair.”

“I’m glad she left me at the alter…”

So many things I felt as I sank down to the ground.  My nards felt like they were knocked into my throat, choking the very life out of me, and believe me… It would have been far easier for everyone involved if I really had choked on them.

”I’m so sorry to hear about what happened, Spike…”

“That bitch is gonna get her car fucked up for starters, and then…”

“Man, you had to have seen it coming.  Everyone did…”

“I was so shocked when I saw what happened…”

“Are you okay? …”

“You have our sympathy…”

“She’s such a bitch, and you are better off without her…”

“What’s going to happen with the kids, the house, the…”

So many things said by those who care about me.  If they really knew me, they would have just shut the fuck up and left me and my kids alone.  It’s bad enough that I have a four year old, who looks the spittin’ image of her mother, breaking my heart every time I took into her angel eyes…

”When’s mommy coming home?”

“Are you and mommy fighting?”

“What did uncle Jamie mean when he said mommy nearly knocked yer nards off?”

“Can I call mommy?”

“Why can’t we go home yet?”

“Where is mommy?”

“Can we get another ice cream for mommy?”

“Is mommy running away?”

So many questions that I could not answer for my baby girl.  The one man who is supposed to have all the answers, and I’m about as dumbfounded as she is.  I sit there and I try not to lose my mind in front of my children, but my son knows.  He knows… He has been through it with me once before.  The memories of that are far more painful, but they are further in the past, where I am used to it now, that was… until……….

”That certainly was rich, the way she laid you out in front of both of your families.  And everyone called me the bitch!”

I couldn’t stand it anymore.  Misty had her demons, and I still have mine.  She stands about six foot nothing, a red-haired, acid tongued, leather studded, fire breathing, cold, hard bitch of a woman.  She stands tall, but right now she was all but standing.  The cigarette pressed between her lips signified her lusty appetite had been quenched momentarily.  I knew it wasn’t real, but who am I to argue with my psychosis?  Still, I felt every quiver and every bite mark on my shoulder.  I felt… every… single… thing.  And it felt strangely satisfying.  I glanced over at her heaving bosom, covered only by the red satin sheets.. She gently exhales a silver stream of smoke in the dimly lit room where, in reality, we had spent many, many hours doing similar physical activities, one of which led to the conception of my, our son.

It is worrisome that this felt so real, as I buried this woman just before Misty and I were engaged.  But, it’s happening, even if only in my mind, so why not enjoy it?

Spike:  You have no room to talk, Roxanne.  You all but did the same thing to me.  Stabbed me in the back, went with one of my best friends, tried to wreck Misty and I for a solid year including stealing her championship, took Tim away from me, tried turning my whole family on me… I might have settled for being racked at the altar, if given the choice.

A smirk ran across her as she tapped the butt of her cigarette, her crimson lips parting just enough to stream out another wisp of smoke.  Her big, lovely eyes lock onto mine, and I want to hate her.  Somehow hating a dead woman seems blasphemous, so I settle for a slight contempt for her, and the events that had just transpired.  She leans in for a kiss, but when I turn my head away, she nips at my earring, working her way up to the lobe, without letting go.

Roxanne:  You were pretty spiteful yourself.  You had barely booted me to the curb when you were laying down with that cu…

Out of sheer reflex, I ripped my ear from her now gentle nibbling, and I put my over her mouth with an angry glare.  Her eyes brighten up by my near outburst only to show disappointment when my eyes sink downward.  I took a deep breath and shuffled around the blankets.

Spike:  I’m still not used to the idea of anything negative said about… her.  Even though she knocked my jewels off…

Roxanne:  Well, she definitely didn’t knock them off.  They’re still in working order.

Spike:  So, I just have to ask.  Misty had her demon, Sydney.  I knew about it the whole time, and apparently she is the reason for all of this.  She got what she wanted now… But I don’t get why I am being haunted, and by you?  Why?  I get that I’m turning into a basketcase, by why you?

I looked over for an answer, but I forgot how hard it is to read her.  Misty was almost always like an open book, but Roxanne was lock stock and no key.  Her she surprised me by putting her cigarette out on my arm, and I winced slightly, the feeling sending a jolt of pleasure up my arm, and throughout my entire body.  She dropped the butt into the more convenient ash tray to her right, and then she just shrugs her shoulders.

Roxanne:  Why not me?  You and I go way deeper than you and that Hot Topic trailer trash.  She is the first at everything… except you.  I would say I planted my flag in you, but it was quite the opposite. Hmm…

Spike:  So you turned me into a deviant.  I still don’t see why you are haunting me.

Roxane:  Get past the appearance, and get down to the real issue… The reason why is as obvious as anything.  You really have become pathetic, and it is really sad to see.  Spike Staggs used to be a name that was to be feared.  Now, the name is associated with a family man who reprised a team of losers, and who just got ditched at the altar by the only golden one of the stable.  You are just laughable anymore.  Every single thing that every person is saying about you, down to calling you Miss Elizabeth to Macho Misty, is true.  You can act like you don’t believe it, but deep down… you know it’s true.  You know that, and watch your opponents exploit any or all of those things, plus a thousand others that are equally true.

I hated hearing that.  I just couldn’t stand hearing her, and each word added to the rage I felt inside.  I did know it was true.  Maybe it was time I pulled a one way JT Underwood/Justin Underwood/Phoenix.

Roxanne:  No, it is not the same.  He reinvented himself, you are reverting to a fraction of what you used to be.

But I didn’t say that out loud.  How did she know?

Roxanne:  I’m in your head, idiot.  I know everything.

Spike:  Then what number am I thinking?

42…

Roxanne: 42

That’s just trippy.  As I sat there for a moment, I thought that I really should try to pull myself out of my slump.  Posture a bit to show the world that I wasn’t dead, more alive than ever actually.  I had already showed up and confronted Misty, showed her that I am not missing a beat.

Roxanne:  You need to focus on your match, Spike.  At least you have it easy this week.  They must know you are weak.

Spike:  First, I am not weak, and second…

I stopped because she burst out into a fit of laughter.  I started to remember why I left her in the first place as I stood up from the bed.  She smacks my ass, getting a firm grip with her claws to leave her print before letting go.  She stifles back her laughter, lighting another cigarette.

Spke: … AND secondly, this match isn’t some big cake walk.  Rage and Gabriel are a real challenge.

Roxanne:  Oh give me a break, Spike!  You are making me laugh too hard…  The biggest threat in the Seven Deadly Sins is Kittie, and thanks to the 1940’s style rules of SCW, you don’t have to worry about facing her.  Despayre is next, he’s unpredictable, and a great athlete.  Rage and Gabriel are bottom of the barrel.  And I mean the very bottom…  Gabriel is a con man, nothing but a joker, a rambler, and a gambler.  Unless he can pull an ass kicking out of his hat, you should be fine.  And Rage… Rage!  Don’t get me started on him.

I haven’t had any real encounter with Rage, but I have seen the damage this man can cause.  He is a monster in every sense of the word, and truly is where my biggest worry lies.

Roxane:  I can’t believe you are worried about that big waste of space.  Seven feet of nothing!  He is a useless ape, and you being afraid of him just goes to show you are a worse case than I originally thought.

Spike:  Oh yeah, you say that because you aren’t the one that has to face him.  Not that I will go down without a fight, but…

Roxanne:  Spike!  The man’s biggest achievement is that he was a Tag Team Champion with your brother… not the young one, the dumb one!  I just don’t get why you are so worried about it?

”Daddy?”

My eyes shoot open, and I look around the room in a sort of panic.  Just then, my daughter walks sleepily into my room.  She stands next to my bed, and lays her head on my chest, as if awaiting my permission to crawl next to me.

Eden:  Timmy’s snoring and it sounds like a monster’s under the bed.  Can mommy sing to me?

Stunned, I look over to the spot next to me, and it sits empty.  Of course it did.  I lift her up as I sit up in the bed.  I set her on my lap.  She rests her head against my chest as she whimpers.  I place my chin on top of her head as I hum a lullaby version of “Rainbow In the Dark”  My voice, somehow soothing to the little four year old

“When there’s lighting.  You know it always brings me down.  Coz it’s free, and I see that it’s me who’s lost and never found.  I cry out for magic, I feel it dancing in the light.  It was cold, lost my hold to the shadows of the night.  No sign of the morning coming, you’ve been left on you own… Like a rainbow in the dark… A rainbow in the dark…”

Humming the instrumentals, I watch as her eyes flutter open and closed, but she doesn't let herself go out that easy. She crawls up a few inchest and rests her head on my shoulder, groaning in protest of the oncoming slumber.

“Do your demons, do they ever let you go.  When you tried, do they hide, deep inside.  Is it someone that you know?  You’re just a picture, you’re an image caught in time.  We’re a lie, you and I.  We walk without a right.  There’s no sign of the morning coming.  You’ve been left on your own.  Like a rainbow in the dark.  Just a rainbow in the dark… Yeah…”

With a yawn, I know it won't be long before she is fast asleep.  I have to give her credit, she sure is stubborn like her old man.  She puts up a fight like a lot of the people I encounter in my profession.  She jolts, trying to stay awake, even though her eyes stay closed.  I run my hands through her hair, the one ray of hope that I have of getting through this...

“When I see lightning, you know it always brings me down. Coz it’s free, and I see that it’s me that’s lost and never found…”

I look down at her, and as I expected, she was fast asleep. Say what you want about my parenting skills, but at least my daughter will know that “Holy Diver” isn’t the only Dio song…  She purrs in my arms, and I rock her back and forth.  This is what kills me most of all, the fact that she did exactly what she always scrutinized Roxanne for doing with Timmy…

With the blink of an eye, I am on the plane to Amsterdam Airport Schiphol, that same beauty with her head buried in my son’s arm as he taps away at his Nintendo 3DS.  At least she has someone to help usher her through these hard times, someone who has been through it before…  That thought alone puts a hint of a smile on my face, watching as he holds her close.

I have been doing pretty good so far, but I can already tell that the craziness isn’t far from consuming me.  The idea of fighting my opponents is exciting.  The thought of any of the four of us spilling blood on the canvas sends glorious shivers up and down my spine.  Win or lose, I need this more than anything.  Everyone keeps asking me…

Spike shakes his head as he stands in the streets of Amsterdam, a group gathered around with as much enthusiasm as donkey show patrons in this fair city.  He winces a bit with a slight hint of a headache before he notices a microphone sitting just inches from his face.  He takes a deep breath, and acts as if he heard the question, and if pondering it.  He is even more surprised not to see a pair of boobs in his face, but rather the good ole “Stoner” Scott Oliver.  He apologetically smiles, putting his hand out to shake his hand.

Spike:  I’m… I’m so sorry, Scott.  My mind is in probably a millions different places right now.  Spacing out a bit.

Scott Oliver:  Sha, right?  It’s in the air here, man.  This is the world capitol for Sex, Drugs, and… Yeah, that’s right.

Spike nods his head, still sort of in shock over his sudden appearance.  He rubs the back of his head, clinching his eyelids, trying to shake off the headache.  He shakes hands with Scott, and then proceeds.

Spike:  Yeah… What was the question again?

Scott Oliver:  Dude, are you sure you are ready to come back to the ring already?  All of the talk of knackers, nuts, nads, nards, and gooley’s on Twitter, it’s gotta make you think twice about it.

Spike’s eyes narrow, as he swore the next time someone asked that, he would punch them right in their nose.  His jaw clinches, and he turns toward Scott, gently straightening out his shirt nice and neat.

Spike:  Am I ready to return to the ring?  Of course I am you silly asshole!

Spike pats him on the shoulder, allowing Oliver a second to breath before Spike leans back down toward the microphone with a smile on his face.

Spike:  What is every person’s dream?  You have a bad day at work, or you get dumped, or your car breaks down, or you get a speeding ticket, or your friend just drank your last beer… What do you want to do when any one of a million possible scenarios like that happens?  You want to kick someone’s ass.  You want to punch the fuck out of someone, anyone’s face.  You want to toss them on the ground and stomp them until they stop moving.  You want to choke the life out of someone, don’t you?  Well, I am fortunate enough to be in a profession where that is legal.  So, to properly answer your question in the most diplomatic manner possible… Yes.  I am sure I am ready to return to the ring.  As for anyone who has something to say about the knocking of the gooley’s or whatever, I implore you to refrain.

Spike looks down from the camera, his eyes showing a glimpse into his sadistic past before his attempt to hide them.  He closes them as his jaw is tightly clinched.  He opens them again, thinking that maybe they have lost the bitter cold.  He looks back into the camera, only having fooled himself as his eyes are even icier than before.

Spike:I can’t promise that you won’t fully and completely regret it. I don’t give a fuck if you are Joe Schmoe, The Sin of Wrath, Jamie Staggs, Misty’s father, Jordan Williams, or a flashy magician!  I could care less.  One day I will be ready to deal with what happened two weeks ago, but today is not that day.  Call me a loser, call me a low life, washed up has been, Mr. Mommy, and I will still shake your hand in the middle of that ring.  But even the slightest…

Spike holds up his thumb and index finger, bent to show about a centimeter between.  He squints his eyes to emphasize the tiny measurement.

Spike:  … smallest hint of a nut shot joke, and I will take pleasure in ripping your godamned esophagus right out of your neck with a smile.  With a smile, I said.  Old Spike is inside, and he is clawing at my gullet, trying to escape, but no one liked what they saw when he ruled.  The King of the bloodbath sold seats, but he was just a bastard… An angry, bitter, jaded man who was so sloppy, it was ridiculous.  I am trying to be a monster of a different color, but sometimes it’s just so hard.  So, a friendly warning to everyone… The thing you thought you saw in the ring two weeks ago… the sham of an engagement that you thought went on for five years… It never happened.  None of it.  As long as it stays that way, that reckless beast of a man stays in the past where he belongs.  We clear, Scott?

Spke’s eyes finally warm up as he looks back to Scott, reaching forward for another handshake from the rather stunned Scott.  He shrugs his shoulders and accepts the handshake.  As Spike turns toward the camera, Scott whirls a finger around at his ears to signify “crazy”.  He then brings the microphone back to his lips.

Scott Oliver:  So none of that shit happened, gotcha.  So tell me, bro.  That Twitter shit’s all over this place now.  You and Rage agreed to kick each other’s asses in a friendly way.  I’m excited to see that.  Us GXW people waited for the day you two locked up in the ring, and never got to see it.  But my question is about Gabriel.  You two have no history, but many are saying this is the true main event of the night.  Why do you think it is?

Spike smiles, truly contemplating the ideas of what makes this match truly epic.  He nods his head back and forth as if having a conversation with himself before leaning down to the microphone.

Spike  Well, there is just too many reasons to count.  All former Heavyweight Champions except Rage who should, and surely will be one soon. It is honestly a travesty that he has not been yet,  It is epic, because every person in this match has been a part of more Main Events than SCW has had matches.  The possibilities are endless, and I truly am excited to face off with the Sins in a friendly competition.

Spike pauses, as if answering himself again, in a more animated manner this time.  He nods his head and shrugs his shoulders.

Spike:  We all love a good surprise, but what makes this one such a hidden gem is the fact that we have two men who are so similar.  No, I am not talking about Rage and I… I am talking about Gabriel and I.  Rage is a powerhouse, but he is more like old Spike.  Sloppy.  His anger gets the best of him.  Gabriel and I, we are opportunists.  We know when and where to execute the truly devastating maneuvers.  We play with our prey before we eat them alive.  I was the mindfuck before Gabriel ever laced up the boots.  He is like Criss Angel of the wrestling ring, but I’m bloody David Copperfield!  Do I think I will outwit him?  I’m not sure.  It is all part of the fun of a match, but I promise you one thing… People will talk about this match for years to come.  Regardless of the outcome, I look forward to putting on one hell of a match with you boys…

Spike starts to walk away from Stoner, when he stops and slowly turns around.  Oliver looks kinda worried and confused as Spike pats him on the back.  A sly smile spreads across Spike’s face as he lowers his sunglasses back down to cover his eyes.

Spike:  To those watching at home, who might visit Amsterdam, I would not suggest looking into a crowd of people… But you, I think you might be into that sort of thing.  Do yourself a favor and take a gander, okay?

Scott Oliver:  Uhhh, okay dude.  Whatever you say.

Spike motions over to another crowd of people just down the block, and then he exits out of the picture.  Scott looks over to the camera and raises the microphone back to his mouth.

Scott Oliver:  This is “Stoner” Scott Oliver reporting from… Damn it all, now I’m curious!

He drops the microphone and walks over to the crowd of people.  The camera follows him as he peeks inside, it’s content still shrouded in mystery.  He tries to turn away, but is fairly unsuccessful.

Scott Oliver:  No way!  It’s like, straight outta Clerks II or something!

[FaDE]

 Going back to St Louis was meant to clear my head, and set me straight.  The idea of getting away from everything was so freeing, but now that I am here, I feel even more thrown off.  The woman on the airplane, taking advice from my uncle, missing my children… all of that has just been added to the rest of the shit running through my mind.

Tuesday, February 21st, 2012

The room is dimly lit, however Spike Staggs can be seen sprawled out across a canopy bed with red and gold trim.  His cell phone is in his hand as he furiously types away at it.  There is a muffled sound of house music thumping against the porcelain walls, and echoing through the vents, and the sound of two, possibly three drunken women moaning in the other room.  It was just like old times, more than Spike would even know yet.  Spike smiles, letting out the faintest of chuckles.

”I’m going to bet myself a hundred bucks that he tries to send one of them in here, just like the many single nights I spent here as a teen.”

Spike sets his phone down on the night stand as he grabs a pack of cigarettes sitting next to the lamp.  He pulls one out and places it against his lips.  Getting up from the bed, he walks along the Persian rug, toward a set of double doors.  He pushes them open, looking out over the back yard area, which looks more like the garden from Edward Scissorhands on flat land with a pool the size of a lake in the middle.  From the balcony, he looks up at the moon as he lights the cigarette, taking in a long, deep drag. He holds it in as if there won’t be another.  The silver stream escapes his lips as it reaches out for the moon, illuminated in a sort of simple beauty as the wind carries it off.

”So many things have changed, but it all feels the same when I come back here.  I can remember puking on almost every tree back here.  I remember pulling stupid stunts and pranks with Jamie and Tommy back here.  Looks like I started an epidemic there… I can remember being tied to the bedposts in that vary room.  My son was conceived in that room…”

Spike taps the butt of his cigarette firmly, letting the ashes rain down to the ground below.  He leans against the stone banister, staring across the topiary jungle in wonderment.  His eyes almost appear to be glowing, mimicking the color of the moon.

”I had my first drink here.  I nursed my first wrestling related broken bone, and my first concussion here, lost my virginity with my first girlfriend, first driving lesson…  So many firsts.  This is the birth place of so many memories, both good and bad.”

Spike takes a step back from the banister when he hears thumping against the window in the bedroom next door.  He looks over, against his better judgment to see a blending of bare flesh of mahogany and ivory tones pressed against the glass.  Before he is even able to distinguish body parts, he quickly turns his head back in the direction of the back yard.  He shakes his head as he takes another drag.

”I was staying here after I had my son taken away from me.  I stood on this banister, daring myself to jump, drinking myself into a stupor.  I am surprised I didn’t fall over, but it wasn’t meant to be.  I had nothing left to lose, and nothing more that I thought I could gain.  I know differently now, but the thrill of it all is so intense…”

Spike contemplates it for the briefest of seconds before he pulls himself up onto the banister.  He steadies himself like a cat as he looks down.  His vision blurs, and his heart begins to pound.  A bead of sweat glistens in the moonlight as it trickles down his neck slowly.

”The rush that I just had to feel to remind me that I was alive.  It did that, but what really helped me to live was coming back to the GXW ring.  The second my phone rang, I never expected to receive a new lease on life.  My old friend, Mark Ward Jr. was on the other end, and he told a much different story from what he is telling today.  He said that GXW needed to be put on notice.  They needed something extreme to really put an exclamation point next to Generation X-Treme.  That exclamation point was me.  If I didn’t get that call until even a minute later, I might not even be in front of thousands of fans every week, putting on the best damn show possible.  I would either be paralyzed, or six feet under.  That is why I owed him my life, and that is exactly what I gave.”

Spike flicks the cigarette from between his fingers, sending it in a downward spiral.  He watches intensely as the burning ember bursts into a thousand tiny pieces against the ground below.  He watches as its fire goes out, as his would have.  He then looks back up to the moon, a much calmer expression spread across his face.

”I came back with a vengeance, taking the GXW X-Division Championship in a ladder match.  Right after that, I took everything to the extreme.  If one brought a steel chair, I brought a cart of various weapons.  If one brought a table, I set it on fire and put his ass through it.  When I say that I was a monster, I mean it.  I was the biggest daredevil, high flying sonuvabitch that GXW ever saw.  I had a short title reign, but that was to make way for bigger and better things.  I met the love of my life, saving her from a burning dumpster.  Together, we showed the world what X-Treme really means.  If anyone messed with GXT, they messed with me, and I handled each and every one of them, even if most of it was on regrettable terms.  The point is, I might not have started the group, or established each and every big name who earned the right to be called Generation X-Treme, but I definitely took care of the fodder.”

Spike leans down, perching himself on the edge, as he lets his feet dangle above the thirty foot drop.  His eyes are enchanted by the moonlight, as he is deep in thought.

”I proved that I belonged with them, and they knew it too.  The black sheep was accepted by the flock, and groomed to blend in with the herd.  Like every male wrestler of the stable, I was destined to grab onto the GXW World Championship.  Even when I doubted myself, my friend Mark was there, cheering me on every step of the way.  Many said it was because he failed to defeat the champion at the time, Matt Seex.  He can agree if his ego will let him… But the truth is that he saw something in me that no one else saw.  He saw a fighter, a monster with the fury of a thousand suns, and he helped me to focus on that prize.  He really was my best friend.

“That is why I was shocked when he…”

Spike’s eyes glaze over as he stops the think about it.  His friendship with Mark was a great one.  Since the days where Spike had entered the big leagues of GCW, Mark had been backstage, giving words of encouragement to the mess that was Spike.  He mentored Spike, unbeknownst to any of the locker room.  Mark, and Mark alone, was responsible for bringing Spike to GXW, and then back to GXW as a member of GXT.  Like a coach, he was there, rooting for Spike, even if he was the only one.  Spike never expected that jealousy would rear its ugly head.

Spike recalled walking down the hallway with Misty, not unlike any other event.  He carried the GXW World Championship like a badge of honor, as it should have always been presented.  Mark walked up to them with Angelica on his arm, and they both smiled in Spike’s face.  Mark gave a short speech about how he knew Spike could get to the top, and that it can get lonely.  He let Spike know that he will be right there behind him, and they shook hands.  As Spike walked away, just seconds later, the chair came crashing down against his head.  The pain was certainly nothing he hadn’t felt before, but the shocker was as he watched Mark wrap the chair around his knee, and stomp it to hell as Misty screamed, and Angelica laughed.  Misty knocked past Angelica, but security had swarmed them, and a medic soon came.

”I spent the first few months trying to justify why my best friend would do that to me.  I was about as bat shit delusional as Kittie when I waited for him to come and visit me in the hospital to explain why he had done it.  A phone call, or a card would have done the trick.  If anyone else looked at me the wrong way, they would amount to nothing but a bloody smear on the ground, but this was ‘Hot Stuff’ Mark Ward, my friend.  I would have believed anything.  It took me a year to really come to terms with what had transpired the night everything was taken from me.  Right before Eden was born, I was consumed by an unrelenting rage and resentment toward Mark, and myself for ever buying into his bullshit.  The anger nearly ruined me again, as I sought out vengeance.  I plotted that revenge, and I waited for him to resurface in the wrestling world, even though I was not at one hundred percent.  It wasn’t until the day I looked into my beautiful angel’s eyes and saw innocence and purity.  That was something I had lost a long time ago.  But my daughter brought a small piece of it back.  Spike Staggs and innocence… It is a laughable concept, but I had to hold onto that piece so that I could pretend, and let the anger go.”

Spike gets down from his perch and sighs, as he breaks his gaze with the moon.  He paces back and forth for a moment, enjoying the brisk, refreshing air as the wind blows against his face.

”It was all so refreshing.  Years went by, and I hadn’t even thought of that backstabbing piece of trash… GXT Spike Staggs.  I didn’t miss him, or the evil doctor who created him, ‘Hot Stuff’ Mark Ward.  They had become a distant memory in the past that I was happy to cover up with new memories.  That changed the day Misty received the call to return to the ring in the promotion ran by Christian Underwood and… Mark Ward.  Being a new man, reborn into a world of tact, patience, and innocence, I played along.  I wore the Mr. Mom apron, and I smiled until he had the damned nerve to ask me to return to the ring… It became a game that I was happy to play.  I watched him, riddled with guilt, trying to offer me my place at the top.  He tried to bribe me with money, power, and easy wins.  He even offered me a Number 1 Contenders spot for the Heavyweight Championship.  Unlike Angelica… I am NOT easy.  I take the road with the most resistance, because it is the only way to prove that you truly deserve the rewards, and that is what I intend to do.  Starting with an old friend…”

Spike goes to reopen the double doors leading back into his room, but they are now locked.  He jiggles them a few more times, but to no avail.  He opens his mouth in a yawn, when it hits him that he never even closed the doors to begin with.  His other option is to knock on Erik’s door to get back in, but after the peep show, it wasn’t even an option.

”Great… Now what can I do?  Just sit out here all night?  At least it is unusually warm for this time of year…”

Spike turns around, and standing practically nose to nose with him is the woman from the airplane.  Her head is covered with the same head scarf, the big black sunglasses, and the neat strands of bright red hair hanging down over the left side of her face.  This time, she is dressed in a baggy black trench coat.  She leans in and gently brushes her lips against Spike’s, refusing to give into the temptation to ravage them.  Instead, she leans down, and lets her hot breath run across Spike’s neck before her luscious red lips part, and she runs her tongue across it.

”Awww, sweetie.  Did you miss me?  I sure missed you.”

Spike takes a deep breath, and several steps back, shaking his head in a sort of disbelief.  The woman chuckles and sinks down about six inches or so.  The moon shimmers off of her lips, and glowing off of her porcelain skin.

”Well, damn.  I guess not.  At least, not that you are willing to admit.  But the tension in your tight, firm ass cheeks tell a different story, sweetheart.  They say, ‘If I really loved her, I wouldn’t have waited five years to marry her.’  That steel gumball machine of a ring is a joke…”

”Who the hell are you?”

Her lips part into the faintest of smiles as she lets out a forced laugh.  Spike tilts his head down, inspecting her gaze as if he could see through her sunglasses.  If there were any color to his face, it would have flushed as his jaw drops down.  She takes a slow walk toward him, savoring his discomfort.

”Bitch please!  Don’t act like you don’t know.  I have rocked your world a million times, and I am ready to do it a million and one more times.  Every time you nail… her… I am right there, telling you how to make her moan.  I am… your mind.  And I am here to bitch kick your ass all over the place… Just the way you like it, if I recall correctly?”

Spike is somewhat relieved, but still in a bit of a shocked state.  His muscles are tensed up but his face relaxes a bit, almost forming a disgust at the apparition in front of him right now.  He steps forward, and grabs onto whatever tangible thing he can, and she smiles, looking up into his angry eyes, begging him to do it ten times harder.

”So, I’m trying to mindfuck myself?  Is that really what is going on here?  Because, if my subconscious is going to bring YOU of all people out, then I am already doing a real BANG UP JOB!”

”Mmmm daddy, I been a really bad girl.  Put me in my place, because you were the only one that ever could.  Oh yeah, I bet you never do that to her, do you?”

”SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW!!!”

Spike lunges forward as he tosses her against the double doors.  Her glasses fall off to reveal the sultry, devilish blue eyes that draw you in.  They roll back in delight as she gasps.  Spike clinches his fists tightly and then he slams them against the banister as hard as he can.  He lets out a primal scream as he does so, causing his uncle to come crashing onto the balcony through his bedroom door.  He clutches a pillow in front of himself as he breathes heavily.  He looks around the balcony and then to Spike with a confused look.  Spike gazes over at his uncle and points against the wall.

”She’s back!  She’s haunting me, Erik!  What the hell am I going to do?  She’s back!”

”What are you talking about, Spike?  I was in the company of three class A’s, and I came out here for a good answer.  Not, ‘Oh, I’m going crazy uncle Erik, I’m seeing shit!’  Get it together if you want to even stand a chance against Mark and Justin.”

Spike grits his teeth as he looks back to the bedroom doors, standing wide open as the wind blows the white curtains around wildly.  Spike tries to talk, but only sputters of sounds escape his lips.  He points, but then realizes that his argument is no use.  The woman sticks her tongue out at Spike as she leans down to pick up her glasses.  She walks off into the room and disappears into the shadows.  Spike takes a deep breath as his uncle shakes his head.

”Your psychosis… It is a gift and a curse.  Your father had it when we teamed together, and it is what got him killed.  I hope for your sake, you learn to control it better.  Learn to live on the bright side like your brothers and Sebastian.  Don’t let it get the best of you, sonny.  Now I better go in before I get blue balls for two different reasons…”

With that, he turns around, bare-assed to the world as he goes back inside.  His voice exclaims in excitement and is received with several squeals of floozies.  Spike shakes his head as he turns around to walk back into his room.  The scene fades…



The following is an X-Treme Press release, brought to you by Sin City Wrestling.  It reflects the views of the person providing it, and not SCW as a whole…


Spike Staggs
Thursday, February 23, 2012 7:42pm


Greetings fellow wrestling enthusiasts, fans and wrestlers alike, as well as parents,

I wanted to take a moment to discuss a very serious issue facing the youth of America today.  I am talking about cyber bullying.  Face to face bullying is terrible, but let us not forget that cyber bullying is a problem facing our children.  It can take place via e-mail, instant messenger, text messaging, interactive games, or any social networking site which children and teens access several times daily.  There are millions of children tormented each day, and many cases have led to teen suicide.  I have witnessed this first hand.  It is an epidemic that is spreading like wildfire through every aspect of technology.  It seems hopeless, but it is not.  It needs to be noticed, it needs to be addressed, and it needs to be opposed.  You can go to http://www.stopcyberbullying.org/ or trend #StopCyberBullying on Twitter.  Sin City Wrestling is donating $10 to the cause for every time it is trended by a follower.  The members of The NEW X-Treme’s support this cause all the way, and we have a huge announcement at Blaze of Glory concerning this matter.  So please, do something to stop cyber bullying today.


   Moving on, there have been questions as to why I have been so silent lately.  Some have asked if I am scared by the words of “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward.  To that, I answer a big “HELL NO!”  Those same people have asked me, “Do you fear ‘The Xquisite One’?” After I was done laughing, I restated the same sentiments with another “HELL NO!”  I have been having some personal issues creep up on me that I had to tend to so that I might be at one hundred and ten percent in mind and body for our match up.  It is unfortunate to report that this just isn’t the case.  I am at one hundred and twenty percent!  I will walk into Blaze of Glory in the best shape of my life, all thanks to the motivational words of a former friend and his new lackey.

   You gotta love the idea of former friends turned foe, battling it out in the ring.  Student Vs. Mentor and Student’s Student.  It just blows your mind, doesn’t it?  What I like most about it is the fact that my opponents think so little of me, even though my past successes are right there in front of them.  Kain underestimated me, and he has fallen to me twice, and he is the biggest threat Sin City Wrestling has going right now.  Taking down JT, Justin, Phoenix, whateverthehellyouwannacallhim Underwood, is going to be a piece of cake.  That leaves two against the boss.  What do you think the odds are there?

But, I am getting ahead of myself.  I wanted to make a few comments regarding Justin’s comments about me prior to the match.

“Since Spike Staggs debuted on Climax Control, ratings have gone down.”
Myth.  When a chart has a red line that ascends the charts, it means viewership is going up.  Unless, of course, his new personality involves not being able to read, in which case he was probably holding the chart upside down.

   “People are tired of hearing about you and your boring family.”
   This is debatable.  I am a family man now.  When I signed the contract, I was brought into this company to be me.  Unlike certain individuals, I don’t need to swagger jack or change myself just because someone doesn’t like how I do things.  With that said, I have come to SCW, sold out shows, and kicked some major ass. How have I done this?  I have done so with the love and support of my family.  I will continue to do so, and the fans are smart enough to know that my performance is not hindered, but enhanced by my family, and I will keep selling out the shows with my methods of madness.

   “You are a washed up has been that never was.”
   Myth.  I am a man who only had to wrestle for a few years, the honest and hard working way, so that I could support myself and my family.  I was brought back under unusual circumstances, but I am back to do what is in my blood, and in my heart.  It is my time to shine once more, only this time, I will shine with the New X-Tremes.

   Three idiotic, hypocritical statements made by your former SCW Heavyweight Champion, disproved.  A real man fights with his mind, son.  He doesn’t hide behind a gimmick that taints who he is, because a real man knows EXACTLY who he is. I am afraid that you don’t.  It appears your former mentor, Matt Ward, might have picked you from the vine just a little too soon. What a shame, because there is real potential there.  I can see why he picked you.  Now, you are throwing it away to become a “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward reincarnate.  What a sad day for wrestling when we have two of them walking around.  Kill me now (**on a legal note, he is not serious, and I would urge all readers not to kill Spike Staggs at the risk of 10 years imprisonment**)

With that said, I want to be the bigger man… in all aspects… and wish them luck in our match up at Blaze of Glory.  Let’s put on a show the fans will never forget.  Let’s remind them why they did not waste their money purchasing tickets, because each and every Sin City Wrestling star is top notch, and we will rock the very foundation of the Palm Springs Casino and Resort.

{{End Transmission}}**

 I walked up the walk way, on a journey that seemed to go on for miles, to see that the front door was still open.  It is the night of January thirtieth, around nine o’clock at night.  I remember everything drenched in red.  Everything.  It didn’t occur to me at the moment that I was just seeing red.  I could feel the veins in my eyes on the verge of bursting with an adrenaline rush unlike anything I have ever felt before.  A fear that I had no idea I was capable of feeling had overtaken me earlier in the night.  At this point, the fear had turned to pure anger, brought on by a new level of hate that I hadn’t thought possible.  I felt my nostrils flaring up to the size of two saucers, and my breath as hot as fire.

I cannot say that I didn’t deserve to feel this way.  What I had done was horrendous.  It was despicable, even for the old me.  Running down a man with a car is attempted murder, warranting several years in prison.  I would rather have just been thrown in prison than to be exposed to this hell that faces me.  I deserved every bit of revenge that this man wanted to exact upon me.  But that is just it.  I deserve it, not my family.

I heard Misty’s car door slam, and she was in pursuit just as fast as I was.  The car was still running apparently, and the sound of the idle engine matched that of the police cars that I had hardly noticed when I made a mad dash to the front door.  Even running, I felt like I couldn’t get through that door fast enough.  My vision flashed between bright red, and a purple, from the lights flashing above the cop cars.  Apparently we had beaten them there, and I could feel as they drew their guns.  I heard the cold steel clicking, but I did not hear their shouts to get down to the ground.  Apparently they had shouted two warnings before drawing their guns.  I only noticed that by the fact that Misty had dropped down to her knees several feet back.

Now at the porch, I hear the calming tone of the wind chimes… Wind chimes, ha.  I never thought I would own one, but here I am, slowly calming down thanks to them.  I hear the police shouting, matched by Misty’s shouts.

”MY BABY!  I JUST WANT TO SEE IF MY BABY IS OKAY!”

I put my hands behind my head, just short of the front step. Everything slowly came back to normal.  The red vision, the bulging eyeballs, the nostrils, the intense shake of anger… they all faded.  I slowly turned my head back to the police officers who are pointing their weapons at me specifically.  I do my best to shout, but it comes out a stern sort of murmur.

”I called you.”

I cleared my throat as they moved in, suspiciously.  I maintained my posture, and I gained a bit of control over my irritated tone of voice.  I took one deep breath, which was the best thing I could have done in this situation.  Upon exhaling, I felt a lot of the irritation and anger escape through my lungs.  I had no idea your lungs were a receptacle for such a thing, but apparently so.

”I called you.  I am Spike Staggs. My I.D. is in my right pocket, in my wallet.  I just want to go in and check on my kids and my sister-in-laws.”

The officer kept a firm aim on me, and I felt every shift in the trajectory of the barrel raking across my back like a tattoo needle of deadly proportions.  Another deep breath and I closed my eyes, still clinching my jaw a bit.  I felt the officer dig deep into my right pocket, pulling out my wallet in a sort of suspicious manner as he thumbed through my cards as if it were necessary since my I.D. was right in the front.  If I had my way, I would have gotten up and smacked some sense into this asshole so that I could go make sure everything was okay.

I remember that Desiree and Dixie came to the door and one of them said a simple “Oh my God” before watching the police give me a royal dick down.  I heard the guns go back into their respective holsters one at a time before they gave me the words that somehow activated an unknown spring loaded mechanism in my knees.  Before I knew it, I was through the front door, past Misty’s sisters, and up the stairs in a fraction of a second.  It felt like the house had somehow swallowed me up, and at the speed of light, I was exactly where I should be.  The darling little angel lying in her bed with her carrot topped brother playing Papa Bear in my absence.

I remember that stare.  I got it only two times in my life thus far, and it was one that let me know I had really, REALLY screwed things up.  Even though I was there, Tim did not leave his sister’s side.  He just ran his hands through her soft hair, silently reassuring her that it is okay to remain in the wondrous freedom and euphoria of dreamland.  As I approached, he slowly shook his head in the negative.  I gave him a look as we had a sort of telepathic conversation.  Him telling me to stay the fuck away, and me telling him I was the father here.  I came just inches from my two children, and he lashed out at me in his pubescent voice.

”Stay the hell away from her before you screw her up with your bullshit, dad!”

”Don’t you talk to me that way, son, or I…”

Even though I towered over him by nearly a foot and a half, he seemed to grow about three feet.  The roles seemed to be reversed, and I couldn’t stand it one bit.  I met his glare with an equally intimidating glare, and then showed him up by about a hundred times.

”Or what?  Huh?  Are you going to hit me again?  Hm?  You gonna smack the hell out of me?  You don’t change, dad.  You just put on a new face.  You’re still a monster, and you will ALWAYS be a monster.”

I had to take a deep breath to brace this entire conversation.  This pissing contest had surpassed anything I was even remotely prepared for at that point.  I remember grabbing at my hair, but I didn’t realize how hard until I saw small, black clumps leaving my head as my hands did.

”You know that none of that is relevant, son.”

Some of it was.

”I made a mistake as a parent, one time.  Watching you ripped out of my life was the single most horrible experience ever. And in that time is when I had done many of the horrible things I had done, trying to kill the pain by giving it to others.  Watching your mother damage you…”

”Don’t talk about my fucking mother!!!”

At this point, Misty had been standing there, watching and listening to everything.  Even though she wanted to swoop in and set the facts straight, she did not.  She was at ease that the earlier situation was merely a scare tactic.  Misty quickly turned around at the mentioning of Roxanne, my first flame, and the deceased mother of my son. That is not to mention she was a bitter rival of Misty’s after Roxanne and I had been apart for some time.  I never said I was Father of the Year at any point in my life… I used to be a monster.  Now?  I am a monster with a better disguise.

”I am sorry!”

I wasn’t really, which is sad.

”You and your sister mean the world to me.  You are both a part of me, and I am a part of you.  I’m tense because Rix Usher…”

”Yeah, he was here.  I saw it on the webcast.  I came in here and called the police on you.  It kinda reminds me of our old father-son bonding times.  Watching you on your knees with a gun pointed at your back because you are a sadistic bastard.  Only this time, it didn’t end with us going two different ways in cop cars.”

Bitch, bitch, bitch…  This kid is like his mother more and more every day.  Until I see leather riding crops and stiletto boots, I won’t interfere.  I felt like I was the child in this situation.  But, maybe that had been my problem all these years.  Instead of listening, and owning up to that which I was responsible for, I had always put a new coat of paint over a shitty situation, and spun it until it looked picture perfect.  Ha, what a metaphor for my life until this point… A picture perfect turd…

”I hate you!”

”Well, that is unfortunate because I love you, son.  You can send me to my room without dessert, take away my TV and video game times…”

Not really.  I would go insane without video games.

”… and all those horrible things parents have to do to enforce good behavior in their children.  But I will always love you.  You get it?  Because you are treating me like the child and all…”

”But you are acting like the child.  You don’t think your decisions through.  Just like in Halo the other day, when I told you that you should have stood guard by the flag, and you showboated across Asylum, and got mobbed and then they tea bagged your mutilated corpse?  It wouldn’t have happened if you would have thought it through.”

In a very strange way, my son had opened my eyes to the error of my ways.  Halo was, and still is a reference to how every man, child, and man-child should model their lives.  A true Spartan never gives up.  It was time to go in after what I wanted.

”I’m not a bad guy, Tim.  I’m just not the best good guy sometimes.  After all, I am the Sadistic Bastard/father of two.  Just remember that I am not the monster I appear to be.”

I am a much, much neater monster who has his sights set on former victim, Kain and his equally cowardly Mystery Partner.

”Okay.  Now, no TV and video games for a week.  That should teach you to play with toy cars instead of real ones.”

We shared a friendly chuckle, one of sincerity.  I bowed my head in a fake show of disappointment.  Tim looked down at Eden who was awakened by our shouting, and eagerly watching our argument, counting something up on her tiny fingers.

”Oooooh, daddy’s in trouble.  Go to your room mister.”

She jumps from under her covers and swatted my behind as I rushed off, faking a cry.  I let her chase me around for a moment before going back into her room.  She collides with Tim who picks her up as she squeals.  He sets her back on her bed and kisses her forehead.

”Not tired!  You guys woke me up!”

Tim and I take a corner of her cloud printed comforter, and he pulls it up to her chin, tucking her in gently as she kicks her feet in protest.  Tim rounds the corner, and I follow closely behind.

”Hey, you wanna play some CoD?”

Yes I did.

”Hmmm, why yes I do.”

He began running toward the basement, with me taking my time.  I wanted the game chair, but I didn’t feel a rush to get to it tonight for some reason.

”I call first!”

”Yeah, you’re grounded from video games for a month, sonny boy.”

He rolled his eyes at me as he turned around.  He chuckled, but I didn’t.  I smiled, and tilted my head to the side in the most smart assed display I possibly could, even narrowing my eyes at him.

”A joke isn’t funny when you rip it off from someone else, a la moi.”

”Well, that’s okay, because it isn’t a joke, and therefore it doesn’t need to be funny… You’re grounded from video games for a month.  Seems to be just the first of many things for going off on your father, I think.  What do you think, Misty?”

She gave me a look that affirmed she didn’t want to even get involved in this conversation.  Despite my open invite, she returned to speaking with the police.  This was something I really did not want to do at the moment.  Tim stormed back upstairs grumbling things that elicited a call for the swear jar from Eden thanks to her first favorite non-relative wrestler, Despayre.  I reluctantly approached the officers, and that urge to punch him in his face hadn’t faded much at this point.  Luckily, one of the perks of being Spike Staggs is that you know how to bullshit in a flawless manner.  A polite smile, and a diplomatic personality wins anyone over.  I know, I’ve been there.

”Ms. Waters, Mr. Staggs.  You have most certainly got the rights to pursue a restraining order on Mr. Usher.  He left the camera he used to shoot the footage you saw, inside your doorway.  This constitutes as trespassing and harassment.  Now, Officer Stanley and I can fill out a police report, and your motion will be pushed through immediately.  Now if you will just sign…”

”No thank you.  My worry was that he had entered the home and hurt somebody, which he didn’t.”

Misty turned to me, and her eyes pierced my entire body like a hundred daggers.  I swear, my family would have killed me a hundred times that night.  She put her hands on her hips and looked about as confused and angry as possible, all at the same time.  I started to speak, but she let her feelings be known before I could even make a peep.

”Not yet he didn’t!  You didn’t just involve yourself in this situation.  You involved everyone in this house… Our children and my sisters are involved in your mess.  Since you can’t clean this one up on your own, then I guess I will have to insist that you let me!”

I knew it was a bad idea.  I just knew it.  As the connections were being made in my brain, I got an immediate feeling that I should not say any bit of what had been formulating in my mind.  But, I did it anyway.  And that is why I slept on the couch that night, and about three nights after that one.

”Well, it is my house, and as the homeowner, I have the right to decline, so..”

Misty took the clipboard from the officers hands and she signed and dated a portion of the paperwork, and then shoved the clipboard into my chest.  I couldn’t help but find her extremely attractive in her state of irritation and anger.  If I knew the pay off wouldn’t have happened later that night, I might have spoken differently.

”Well Mr. Home Owner… Mr. Staggs.  Mr. Not My Husband STILL, maybe you should make use of YOUR house, and try sleeping in YOUR living room.”

She threw her hands in the air in a sense of aggravation, but she seemed to keep it in check for just a moment as she turned back to the police.

”Go ahead and get started on my restraining order, and my daughters.  Unless he is totally brain damaged, maybe he will at least sign for his son, since we are being possessive tonight.”

”Misty, you don’t understand…”

I read over the paperwork quickly, and I obliged for the safety of my… our son.  I handed the paperwork back to the officer in charge, and shook his hand.  He gave me his card, along with some banter about how he will serve and protect, rather than stay parked in front of Dunkin’ Donuts.  I could have cared less at this point.  Bed linens were being thrown down the steps, and complaints about video games and swear jars were ringing around in the background.  I thought I had it under control, even with all of this going on, I felt that calm, because I could hear those wind chimes bringing me back to sanity.  Too bad they don’t rub backs, because I’m going to need it after sleeping on my old bachelor couch.

<img src=http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v674/GXWSpikeStaggs/SpikeSceneBreak-1.png>

From the Mind of Madness comes Genius…

Nothing about this upcoming match set well with me.  Mystery Opponent?  Kain?  Really???  Is that the best you got, Mark?  The almighty “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward could not assemble his own mighty crew of titans to take down the supposedly inferior New X-Treme’s.  He tried everything he could to get me to sign on with Sin City Wrestling.  Why is he so surprised that I came at it like I do with everything that I take on?  Did he expect that I would sign away my life to him when I signed this contract?  I certainly hope he didn’t expect me to come back around as his lackey, because those days ended as soon as I won the GXW World Championship. But, as I said, he couldn’t assemble his own mighty army, so he enlists the aid of someone he beat the fuck out of on the last edition of Climax Control, and some coward who is so much of a pansy, he can’t even show his own face to us.  No clue as to who he is?  No nothing.  Or, yes nothing.

I have demolished anything this guy has thrown at me.  As soon as I bat away the first gnat, he throws another my way.  I vowed to make him regret forcing me to sign with SCW all while upholding my promise to bring in the ratings, the fans, and the monetary digits the only way a Staggs knows how to.  With style.  With controversy.  With panache.  With results…  That is why a Staggs have been involved in roughly ninety percent of the Main Events here in Sin City Wrestling.  Now, I have been involved in exactly two matches since I signed with Sin City Wrestling.  Both of those matches have been Main Events.  I sell tickets, and I do it by keeping promises.  My promise to the fans, staff, and fellow wrestlers, is that the result will be exactly the same as last time.  I will be victorious.  I will sell out Blaze of Glory, and every show I am involved with thereafter, just by my showmanship at Climax Control.

Kain… Haha… Yes, Kain. Six foot, three inches and two HUNDRED and FORTY POUNDS… of an over-hyped man wrapped up in a neat package of undeserved self entitlement.  Out of all of the people that come close to making me think I MIGHT be intimidated if I were half the star I am… It would be you.  You know how to fight.  Congratulations, you were my toughest challenge in our last encounter, aside from teaming with an incompetent redneck, of course.  You gave me a challenge of sorts, and it was refreshing to know that there are heels that can sort of hold a candle to the stature of former heel that I once was.

I say this only because, you are a cocky, arrogant prick.  You really are.  What is unique about that?  Such a statement sums up Blade Alexander pretty well.  Nick Jones has modeled his career around it, making it his gimmick, if you can even call it a gimmick.  Blaque Hart Bruce Evans uses a Canadian Flag to try to cover up the fact that he is as boring as the aforementioned heels.  He is a cocky, arrogant sonuvabitch.  “Primetime” Matthew Kennedy’s gimmick? A self absorbed, arrogant prick.  You can throw in a few factors, such as the nation of Canada, or an obvious superiority complex, but that does not distinguish you from the next.  Give me some substance, because I feel like any of these names are interchangeable.

But you, Kain…  While you act no different from any of these guys, you can fight on so many levels.  I didn’t expect it from you.  I actually have to commend you for that, Kain.  Your personality, and your ruthlessness outside of the ring don’t compare to the things I have done in my career as a heel, as far as I have seen.  But you fight for yourself, and you let everyone know upfront that you stand only for yourself.  You aren’t backstage flaunting a contract that no one cared about to begin with.  You aren’t giving Mark a handjob in his office to get a surprise number one contendership after beating no one of importance beside a stoner.  You aren’t bitching and moaning about every loss or every bit of missed attention.

That is one, and only one thing I can truly respect about you when it comes to your personality.  You and I are different on so many levels, but one thing that we have in common is that we can never be bought.  Promise us anything you like, but the fact is that we prefer to earn it.  We work for our opportunities.  Unfortunately, I don’t really like you, and I refuse to let you beat me.  I think another mark on my Win Column just might put me on the track to earning a Number One Contendership to the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship.  I am not about to give that up to you, or your unfortunate situation of an ally.

Speaking of which, who is this mystery coward?  Someone who has decided to cash in any bit of their integrity to align with my enemy, making them an enemy in the process?  Who are you?  Really.  Hiding behind a vale of mystery, you might think you are being mighty crafty… but instead, you are hiding from the humiliating beating I will give you at Climax Control in front of the Colts of Carson High.  While I am anxious to find out who you are, it is not because of any importance of your name, or your abilities.  I am anxious to find out how far I can shove my size 16 up your ass.  Or, as old school Spike Staggs fans might have expected me to put it, I am anxious to wafflestomp your ass into the mat.

Just remember one thing, Mr. “Mystery Opponent”… When your theme music starts, when your face is shown, it will be gloves coming off, not hats.  When you step into that ring, I will take every bit of my frustration out on you, and if you haven’t eliminated yourself from the match, I will see to it that you are.  Even though the match is every man for himself, it will be half of the New X-Treme’s standing tall above you and your partner, Kain.  You will see the fire burning in our eyes as we watch you walk back up the ramp, wallowing in your own disappointment.  It will not be through words, or ring invasions, or interviews with the lovely Ms. Willow.  It will be through action that we make our next advancement onto the scene as the dominant force… the Golden Standard of Sin City Wrestling, and one step closer to making good on our promise to be THE GOLDEN STABLE!

You will be stepping stones to our success, and for that, you should feel special.  Today, it is Kain and his pansy of a partner.  Tomorrow, it will be aforementioned pansy and “Hot Stuff” Mark Ward.  Then?  Anyone wearing a championship belt will be a target.  It is all for the greater good, and you should all be proud to be considered victims of New X-Treme’s.  I am very much looking forward to meeting you face to face, Mystery Opponent…

*******************************************************

The front door creaks open in the completely blackened house as Misty’s silhouette is seen walking in through the single source of light in the entire house.  Behind her is a very large man, roughly seven feet tall.  Their voices are muted as they laugh amongst each other, only for Misty to stop dead in her tracks, stricken by the darkness and the silence of their home.

”Hello?  Where is everyone?”

Misty found herself a bit worried now, given the events of the past week and a half.  She leans back, whispering something to Casey who just shrugs his shoulders, taking the lead into the house.  He takes just a few steps in the house, and immediately stumbles over something.  He mutters curses under his breath as he holds onto his knee.

”Damnit…  I thought you said Spike wanted us here to talk about our business at Climax Control and Blaze of Glory?”

”I thought so…”

Misty puts her hand along the outer edge of the lighted doorway, and finds the light switch.  Once she turns it on, she still sees nothing.  This only worries her a bit as she storms through the house.

”Spike?  SPIKE?! Spike! Where are you and the kids?”

Casey follows quickly behind her as she notices a trail of papers of all colors leading through the kitchen and to the back door.  A sheet of paper blocks the window of the door, and she flings it open in a panic.  What she sees outside astonishes her to no end.

”SURPRISE!”

Casey rounds the corner in a bit of panic himself, but his expression lightens up a bit as he follows Misty out onto the back porch, which has been extended into a platform with a red carpet stretched across it.  Casey looks around at the large crowd gathered in Spike and Misty’s back yard, and the many decorative black and red balloons and streamer along the fence and through the trees.  As they walks toward the edge of the platform, Spike runs up the steps to the platform, and points upward for them.  Hanging from one side of the stage is an Sin City Wrestling banner, and on the other side is an NWA banner.  In the middle is a rolled up banner underneath a hand made banner reading “Congratulations Misty and Casey” and has been signed by everyone in attendance, plus some.  Misty gives Spike a big hug, and then Spike steps up to Casey, and gives him a handshake, but pulls him in for a hug.  He pulls out a microphone rigged to a small sound system set up around their back yard.

”Everyone here wanted to show their support for the amazing opportunities you two have been given with two different NWA Championship battles!  Can we get a massive round of applause, everybody!  If not for them, then for the free booze! Hey-yo!”

There is a roar of massive proportions from the fifty or so in attendance.  Spike raises his arms in the air, trying to get as big of a reception as possible from them.  Eden runs onto the stage nearly tackling Misty, and Tim follows in an attempt to stop her, but is just a second too late.  Spike nods his head and then looks out into the audience.  He points to a few different people and his grin raises.  Jordan rushes through the crowd and onto the stage to join his comrades.

”This is a big time for the New X-Treme’s.  While our family is not yet complete, we are already making our mark on SCW and NWA.  I figured these events deserved a killer party.  Such a party doesn’t usually involve a long-winded speech, but I wanted to let you guys know that Jordan and I are very proud of you.  Blah blah blah, you guys want to drink, so let me introduce another special guest of ours for the evening.  Party people, please welcome the reason we sell out any show we come to… Mr. Christian Underwood!”

The crowd cheers as the nicely dressed Christian Underwood jogs up the steps, nodding at Spike.  He walks up to Misty and shakes her hand, giving his words of encouragement to Misty before turning to Casey and doing the same thing.  Casey nods his head, thanking Christian.  The crowd starts a chant of “Christian, Christian, Christian!”  He turns and waves to the crowd before politely excusing himself from the stage.  Misty hugs onto Spike, kissing him deeply in front of the crowd.  He acts as if he is trying to pull away, which is not the case.  Instead, he bends her backwards.  He leans up and looks back toward the audience.

”Okay, we’re gonna be right back… Continue the party without us, coz it’s going to be a while…”

Misty laughs as she smacks Spike’s arm playfully.  Just then, a loud mouthed voice comes from the crowd as Jamie Staggs stands on a chair, pointing.

”I TOLD HIM TO SAY THAT!”

He claps for himself, but Spike shakes his head.

”No you didn’t…. ANYWAY… Congratulations on your title shots, and good luck!  Enjoy the party, because it is your night!”

Another round of applause and wild cheering takes over the audience as Spike leads them down toward the very welcoming crowd.  Music begins playing through the spacious back yard as the partygoers begin gathering their drinks and snacks from the tables on either side of the yard.  Misty mingles with her sisters and a few others there, and Casey joins Laura and Jim while Spike watches on with a genuine smile.

”They deserve a parade right now.  I am so proud of them.  Misty could be a double champion in just over two weeks, and Casey could be the first to bring NWA gold into SCW.  Such amazing opportunities have been presented to them.  It looks like we just might make good on our promise to become the Golden Stable, not only in SCW but on a much, much larger scale of NWA.”

Spike sits on the edge of the stage, watching on in a sort of delight.  Jamie and his Dumbass University crew comes up to him and they talk to him.  His lips move, but he is deep in thought, which is something these five men are aloof to.

”Everyone thought that New X-Treme’s was the Spike Show.  I’m just the mouth of this group.  I want every one of our members to strive for greatness in everything we do.  Right now, my strength is encouraging my soldiers, and working my way up the NWA ranks to earn a title shot of my own…”

Spike nods his head and laughs as his youngest brother, Tommy, explains some scenario to him, using wild hand gestures and interesting facial expression.  Jamie shoves Tommy and laughs.  Spike shakes his head.

”Before I can pursue my own goals and dreams, I have two major roadblocks sitting in front of me.  This week, I’ve got Kain and a mystery opponent in this Rumble style match up.  Over-the-top is my strength.  Maybe I can show my wrestling roots as a high flyer.  For a big guy, I have showcased amazing agility in my day.  Let’s see if I’ve still got it.”

Spike waves to Tommy and Jamie, shaking hands with Metalhead and Nate Starr as they follow after their cronies.  Spike takes a deep breath through his nostrils.  Misty looks over at Spike to see if he is okay, and he simply smiles at her, allowing her to continue on with her conversation.

”Kain and I have met before, and he saw me with my arm raised in victory. While he is a worthy opponent, I am a firm believer that history repeats itself.  I will, once again, come out on top, and so will Casey.  I am confident that the two of us will be the last two left standing in the ring when all is said and done.  Nothing will stop us.  Nothing at all…”

Spike slowly stands up from the edge of the stage and walks down the steps to join the group of guests.  He shakes hands with former acquaintances, both friend and foe, from his wrestling past.  Some of the names are clear, but other faces he barely remembers.

”The mystery situation intrigues me, of course.  Not just because I will watch their face twist into anger and disappointment as I toss them over the top rope, but because they have willingly taken sides with my nemesis, and will be the opponent of Jordan Williams, and myself, at Blaze of Glory.  Any man who willingly opposes me or my X-Treme’s will find my wrath.  I just hope that Mr. Mystery knows exactly what they signed up for.  It certainly wasn’t for a cake walk…”

Spike’s smile fades, and a look of seriousness overtakes his entire face.  He slowly looks from the person he is talking to, and looks directly into the camera. As he does so, a real flame, blue in color, is in Spike’s eye, its flame sparkling in the moonlight.  He winks his eye before slowly turning back to his conversation.  As he opens his mouth, the first syllable comes out in a huff, and the scene fades… TO BLACK!