[Mac]

Forget what you know, shit’s about to get real.

“The true responsible will do whatever it takes to hold each droplet accountable when the stormwater inundates the fences of our living. ("Finally things had lost their weightiness" )”
― Erik Pevernagie

Foreword:

When the words CCPE are said out loud in the wrestling community, what do you think the general reaction is? Anger, and jealousy mostly. Our most recent feather in our cap is when we took on the world and reigned supreme. I do realize that this really doesn’t have anything to do with Sin City, but at the same time it does. You take someone like our boy Goth, he participated in that tournament against Joe Montouri. Do I like Joe? Not really, no. Thing is Goth gave him all he wanted and more. He pushed Joe harder than anyone other than myself that I’ve seen. Chris Page is here in SCW, Chris is the owner of the organization. Kat Jones, who is known to all, is now the president of CCPE, helping him run the organization. A very new addition to SCW is our friend Peter Vaughn. A man who really doesn’t need any kind of introduction, unless you’ve been living under a rock for the last two years. He’s a man who’s won 5 different world titles. I hate to have to repeat this but CCPE is not a stable, faction or whatever reference you want to use. We are a collection of some of the elite in this business. We’ve been proving our dominance for almost two years now, and yes we are so very proud of what we’ve accomplished.

Much like the Saviors, here in Sin City. We are the main event whether anyone likes it or not. It’s been that way since Ken Davison, Goth, myself, Kat at first, Kim, and of course the Lady Melissa first came together. I’ve held this title on four separate occasions, all within two years. Ken is a two time world champion, Goth has also held it twice but now starts his fourth reign as a roulette champion. Kat, of course, is retired now and is my agent full time. Then in comes one of the baddest women on the planet, Kim Pain. it doesn’t stop there, there will be some announcements made at the next climax control about new members and what that means for the blast from the past and the world titles.

Stay tuned kids, this ride is about to get bumpy as hell.


{The Roulette Wheel - Las Vegas NV - “A new start” }



By Shane Raynor - First Tennessee Park, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=42142515

That february wind bit deep into my skin as I watched the kid take batting practice. Every pitch thrown, it either hit the wall or cleared it in deep center field. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen an infielder with that kind of pop to his bat,” The coach muttered almost under his breath. Jimmy couldn’t hear it from his vantage point and I only barely caught it. Jimmy had been a hell of a good football and baseball player in highschool. It’s Texas, it’s what they grow up watching and loving. Jimmy wrestled for a couple of years without much success. I mean he had won a world title in the indies. It was a streaming fed called VCW, and he held that title for damn near a year. It might have been the independent scene but it was fun to watch him take it and run with the ball for that company. I ripped open the bag of sunflower seeds into my hand and they went in my mouth immediately. I worked them into position, looking like Tug McGraw to help with the visual. I knew Amber wouldn’t be here today, it was just practice and she didn’t seem to have any interest in baseball. I, however, would be around as much as I could, so he knew that the old man was for it and wanted him to have success.

They weren’t anywhere near done for the day but his time in the cage had come to an end. I watched him come out of the cage and waved to him and he nodded his head and kept on about his drills. He took this game even more seriously than he had combat sports. It was admirable to be honest, god bless I have good kids. Each one of them had unquestioned talent and in different areas. Jimmy had set the bar though, he was showing his younger brother that it’s okay to not be in wrestling. Aerik, who had been a really good basketball player in school, had plans to try out next year for the Rocket’s D-Leage team in hopes of landing a full-time gig.

Julez, my daughter, had not made up her mind yet. She was tempted by the wrestling industry and was hopeful that Amber would train her. I told her not to be upset if that didn’t happen. After the soul-crushing way that Avalon had treated Amber and Masque as well, I didn’t see her taking on any students anytime soon. Maybe not ever to be honest about it. I spit out a few shells as I turned to walk back to the parking lot. I sighed very loudly at the thought of what Avalon was doing to Amber, it made me bitter and angry. Here was a kid with all the potential in the world, and she was flushing it down the drain for spite.”Such is life, I suppose, people doing stupid human tricks.” I found my way to the truck in this massive parking lot and saw something odd. A single card was stuck under the windshield wiper on the driver's side. Without breaking stride, my hand went to the pistol I had holstered in the small of my back. As I continued to head towards my truck, I scanned the area, “Maybe I’m being paranoid,” I said to myself.

The card turned out to be blank, with not a drop of ink on it. Out of my hip pocket, I pulled out a telescoping mirror and started going around the truck's perimeter. That turned up nothing at all, everything was as expected. I started checking the door handle and no sign of anything there or on the mirrors, maybe it was just someone fucking with me. It made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, all the same. I hit the door release and checked the backseat as I would normally do, but no one was back there. I climbed into the driver's side and started the truck, there was no accompanying explosion much to my delight. Was it my disagreement with Ken that was driving this paranoia? Was it Masque? That was when I looked up where the business card was behind my windshield wiper and there was a message there. If I had removed the card I would have seen it. It read, “Shit’s about to get real.” A thinly veiled threat from someone? I wasn’t sure, Masque or Abigail as she was calling herself now was still very much a threat. Yes, Amber had defeated her but defeating someone in a single match, doesn’t make them go away.

I had this nagging feeling that something terrible was on its way and my gut was rarely wrong. Now it was time for keeping my head on a swivel.

{The Oblivion Ranch - Las Vegas, NV - “Former Glory”}





{In-Studio - The Oblivion Ranch - “Real Shit”}

A few hours later, I found myself standing on the front porch of the ranch house. A fresh cup of coffee in my hands and a satisfied smile on my face. Lighting a cigarette, I took a seat in my usual place. That old slatted wooden chair suited me, it was kind of a reflection of who I am. It had a very old-school feel to it. It was rigid almost to the point of being hard, and like me, it had very little give to it. I watched as the clouds began rolling in, tinged with grey, some a slightly darker color than others. That also felt like a reflection of myself and the world I lived in. Everything was in a constant state of flux. The only thing that was static, was my love for my wife. That’s the reason that when things had become so chaotic and we weren’t spending much time together, I had worked on her bike. I had done it on the sly to surprise her with something good, after all the bad she had gone through over the last six months or so.I had been able to restore it completely, and it now sat in the detached garage, just off to the left of the house. She wouldn’t be home for a bit, but it made me proud, because of the time, and energy I put into it. Complete with new paint, the same color it was of course. I’m not foolish enough to think changing the paint scheme was a good idea. She had gotten it that way and I wasn’t going to change that. My reverie is broken as the cigarette was causing my index and middle finger to become warm. So I crushed it out. Taking my coffee and pack of cigarettes with me I walked out to the garage where I had put her busa after I had gotten it done. I finished it earlier today while she was gone.



Down to the very last detail, this machine was ready to roll. It looked beautiful and I hoped she would love it as much as I did. I remembered when that bitch poured sugar in the gas tank, she was still owed a receipt as far as I was concerned. I knew red, she would finish that fight.

“No fucking doubt about that.”

Admiring my own handiwork, I sighed with contentment on a job well done. I knew it was road ready because I had ridden it here from the garage in town. It ran like a fucking dream, no one was going to easily be able to keep up with her on the open road. This Hayabusa was an absolute beast and a beautiful bike as well. When I started it up in the Oblivion Garage, I could feel the power surge, no wonder she loved this bike so much. It was crazy the amount of power that came from this thing. Not that I was going to convert from Suzuki to Harley Davidson, that simply wasn’t gonna happen. It was impressive though. My pleasant thoughts were interrupted as my mind drifted to the upcoming match against Vinnie and Bill. I knew I needed to get in there and cut my promos. So happy thoughts would have to wait until later after Amber got home.

That’s when I heard the click of the garage door opener, I was already here so I might as well wait. The door slowly rose up to meet the rafters of the garage, whining and complaining the whole way. I probably needed to grease that damn chain again. Oh, the joys of home ownership. I looked at her behind the wheel of my truck, her facial expression was blank. I didn’t know if he was going to cry and laugh or flip me off. I knew she recognized the bike but I couldn’t decipher the expression.

To be continued…


I’ve never been shy about voicing my opinions on things, and neither has Amber as was obvious in our most recent social media interaction. She got her “I told you so” moment. Me, being me, I simply let it go. It made me wonder how long it would take before I could do the same thing regarding Gabriel. Would I actually treat it like she did? There was some spite in that, spite that I could even feel through Twitter.

Adjusting the microphone in front of me, I test a few things and then I stand in front of the microphone. I can still feel the dampness of my hair, it would take most of the day to dry unless I took a blow dryer to it. I knew I wouldn’t, I smirk at my own indecision and tap the microphone one last time.

CCPE, that’s all people are talking about in the wrestling community these days. Why do you suppose that is? Because we fucking rocked the world! That’s why. What makes it even better is that Chris cut some of the fat out of our roster of talent. The guys that couldn’t be bothered to step up. What’s really interesting is that sometimes the fatheaded goofs cut themselves out of the equation. The people who don’t really contribute to anything we are trying to do. No reason given, just gone.

I shake my head and chuckle.
Some peoples fucking kids. Speaking of children, one of mine made the change from wrestling to baseball. My oldest son, Jimmy inked a deal with the Vegas franchise the blackjacks, who are a part of the newest cyber league. It’s still in it’s infancy but hopefully it will give him a chance to play at the pro level and on a high level. But, enough of that, now it’s time to talk bidness.

I laugh at the thought of this tag team match and I roll my eyes.

Fucking Bill and Vinnie.

I put my hands on my hips and bow my head for a moment.

This is the best you can do for your current world champion, the former world champion who has been his partner in crime for almost twenty years?

I don’t even bother trying to hide my anger at the situation. I flip the camera off and everyone who watches this.

It’s bullshit. I mean, how many times do we have to blow these punks up in the ring? One is an out of shape, overweight slob, while the other is running around here, thinking he’s fucking hugh heffner.

I turn my back on the camera and microphone, throwing my hands up in the air.

Mercer is right, it’s not the same Sin City that we all remember. In some ways it’s better and in some other ways it’s worse. This tag team match is an example of worse.  My last match, was against men of substance, mostly.

I turn back around, with a smile I begin to address my partner for this match.

My partner in crime for this match and yes it will be a crime. At least I think assault with intent to maim is still classified that way is none other than Ken Davison. We’ve been brothers for a long time. We’ve been through a lot of shit over the years.

I nod at the camera and I continue to smile.

I don’t know the why’s of it, but I do appreciate his transparency on the subject. He said that he was doing what he needed to for his family. I can respect that statement. Now then, Ken will continue to be pissy about what I said but at the end of the day, nothing changes. I’ll continue to fuck with him by bringing food to his wife, and you’re god damned right I’m building up those points for godfather rights to the new baby they have on the way. 

I stick my tongue out at him like you would a friend who was standing in front of you.

I had some shit I was going to say, and yes, my angst does have a target but it’s not my partner. Will it affect us as far as teaming together? Maybe? Yes? No?  I wouldn’t think so, we’re both professionals with goals and aspirations. The one thing I hope in this matchup is that his thinking remains in the present and not the future. It’s an easy trap to fall into when you have such a glowing future ahead of you. It has been a pleasure to witness my brother be happy.

My smile fades as I focus on our opponents.

Then there are you two glorified gorillas, oh, and Bea. In case you’ve forgotten about what she did to me the last time I was anywhere near you two. I haven’t forgotten and I damn sure have not forgiven. You three are the reason that Fenris was blinded, just like you had tried to do the same to me before that incident. 

I shake my head.

Don’t mistake my tone, I’m not angry and I don't have any real disdain for you.  It’s actually sympathy. I cannot help but feel sorry for you three, honestly. You guys are the textbook example of insanity. You do the same things over and over again and actually expect a different outcome.

Sighing quietly I look up at the camera.

The fact that you guys are trying to turn over a new leaf has not been lost on me. Nor has the fact that you guys have held virtually every title that this company has. The real issue is that I don’t give a shit. I don’t care about your accomplishments, your social status or anything else you have to talk about.

I harrumph as I continue to address them.

What I do and hopefully we do care about is continuing the dominance that we’ve shown for the last year. I know that’s all that matters to me.  We show up and show out every single week. One thing that no one can fault us for is our work ethic. Every single time we enter that ring, it’s maximum effort and execution. Unlike so many others that show up to collect a paycheck, we go out there to collect titles, week in and week out.

Fade