Not Another Love Story
February 14th, 1989
Cue the bright sun, birds chirping, and a pleasant kiss of warmth to break up the typical cold. Everything about the scene just gives you the warm and fuzzies as kids run inside of their school with their bags of Valentine's Day cards in their hands, and a desire to make themselves sick on candy. Their laughter rings through as we pan to the side to see a young mother and father sneaking a passionate kiss, showing that there is still a spark in their marriage, one that makes some of the other less happily married parents growl in envy. This is broken as a young boys voice cuts through the air harshly.
Young Jamie</color>: But I wanted BUGS BUNNY VALENTINE CARDS!!! I don't wanna pass these out, the kids will think I'm a gay lord or something!
We cut over to the side to see an eight year old Jamie</color> stomping the ground angrily as he throws a tantrum. Spike</color>, who is eleven, simply shakes his head in disgust at this display as he looks down at Jamie</color>, grabbing onto his shirt collar, raising his fist in the air as he shoots daggers at him.
Young Spike</color>: You better watch it nerd bomber, or I'm gonna pound the crap out of you. At least you got Valentine cards to hand out. I didn't get jack.
Jamie</color> grits his teeth before throwing a stack of cards at Spike</color> and pulling his shirt free. He works the wrinkles out of his shirt as he looks over to his mother, a young woman with dark auburn hair, and sunken in eyes. She is standing there, but she is clearly checked out mentally as she slowly raises a cigarette to her lips, sucking in as she shakes intensely.
Jamie</color>: Here, take those penis breath! Let people think you're a homo, but I'm NOT handing out Strawberry Shortcake.
Spike</color>: Hey, Officer Dick Lickey, are you retarded? You already wrote names on them.
Jamie</color>: Duh, I wrote it in pencil. Use an eraser dipshit...
Lori</color>: Would you two knock it off? And stop talking like I didn't raise you two with manners...
Lori</color> is clearly upset by this, but the inflection in her voice doesn't show this. She drops her cigarette to the ground, stomping it pout with her foot as she gently pushes them along. With the recent passing of her husband, Valentine's Day was the last thing she wanted on her mind. She walks them across the street to the school where she plants a kiss on their cheeks, embarrassing them before they wipe it off with a resounding "Bleck". It might not have been pretty, but it got them to form a united front against mommy kisses. As they make their way to the school, Lori</color> smiles. She watches the boys disappear into the school building before wiping a tear from her eye. She quickly turns around, turning away from the view of everyone as she walks through the neighborhood, the tears soon getting to her more and more. She walks up to their house, stepping inside to look around at the mess. As if the sun had faded, and all happiness had drained from the previous scenario, Lori</color> leans against the door, stooping down as she covers her face, tears flowing like rivers. She sits there for a moment before walking over to the kitchen. She opens up a cabinet over the refrigerator, pulling out a fifth of Jack Daniels. She sniffles as she unscrews the cap, taking a nip straight. She walks back down the hallway, seeing a picture of her happy, smiling family. The thing that catches her attention the most is the confident, proud smile of her deceased husband, Robbie. She closes her eyes before knocking the picture off of the wall angrily. She begins stomping on it as she shrieks.
Lori</color>: YOU SELFISH BASTARD!!! I was a good, obedient wife, and how do you repay me? By fucking around on me? Huh? Partying it up while I'm at home taking care of our children?
Lori</color> pounds on the wall as she tries to calm herself down. She puts a bit of a dent in the flimsy wall before walking down the hall, knocking every picture off of it that contains Robbie. Broken glass crunches under her feet as she takes another, much longer, sip of the Jack Daniels. Without a care for the intense burning in the back of her throat, she downs the remainder of the bottle as if it were water.
*****
I had gotten the call, but I didn't expect this from Lori</color>. She was always such a responsible parent, so getting drunk at nine in the morning just didn't match up. She quoted scripture to me over the phone, telling me we should be together. The only woman I ever cared about aside from my own mother, wanted to grant me the one wish that had lied buried in the darkest recesses of my mind. But... not like this. Not induced by alcohol. I told her so, and said I was on my way, so here I am, sitting in my car, headed down Lindbergh Boulevard. A car ride that would normally take about fifteen minutes, had taken five as I weaved in and out of traffic. Something in her voice screamed urgency, and I wasn't about to let her drink herself into a stupor. Just ahead is the neighborhood as I switch on my blinker. I switch lanes, just as someone comes speeding up behind me. He honks his horn at me as he shouts, but I roll down my window, flipping his a one finger salute.
Me: Sit and spin on it asshole!
I certainly had a way of controlling myself, because I wanted to slam on my breaks and pull the scrawny bitch from his car and beat him into oblivion. However, there were more pressing matters ahead of me. He honks a few more times, but I'm beyond caring now as I turn into my sister in-law's neighborhood. I go down about a quarter mile until I turn into her driveway, spotting her through the large bay window out front. I quickly get out of my car and walk up to the front door. I go to open it, but the door is already ajar. Before I can take three steps inside, I trip over a few bags sitting on the ground. In the distance, I hear Tommy crying from his room. I look over to Lori</color>, seeing her stir slightly with a moan. She's screwed out of her mind right now, so I step over all of the bags, wondering to myself. I walk to the back and pick the toddler from his crib, patting his back as his crying slows to a bit of a lonely whimper.
Me: Lori</color>, how long has Tommy been crying?
I listen for a response, but nothing comes of it. I bob Tommy a little as I walk back into the hallway, stepping on broken glass. The crunch sends a tingle up my spine as I look down, seeing the half dozen pictures broken on the ground. I clutch Tommy closer to me, careful not to let him out of my grip over the glass especially. Something about this is very off to me, but Lori</color> had not been herself since Robbie O.D.'ed at the Chase a few months ago. This could not go on any longer. My brother might not have cared much about his wife and kids, but I did... I do... Sometimes tough love is what is needed to whip a person back into shape. I stepped around the broken glass as best I could before getting to the living room. Lori</color> is still sitting in the same spot, but her head is tilted back in the opposite direction. The tears are gently streaming down her reddened cheeks. I walk over to Lori</color>, ready to hand Tommy over to her just long enough to clean the glass from off of the floor. She moans and slowly shakes her head as she tries to say something, but it comes out as babble.
Me: Lori</color>, you and I really need to talk about things. These boys have been through enough lately, without...
I nearly passed out right here. I set Tommy down next to me as I'd rather him get a cut from the glass than to have a two hundred pound man fall over on him. He sees exactly what I see and terror takes over his face as he begins screaming. I fall over to one knee as my entire body is taken over. I grab onto Tommy's face, turning it slightly as I bury it into my chest. I'm shaking almost as badly as he is, my face white as a ghost.
Me: Lo...ri? What did you do?
My voice comes out as a mere whispering squeak as I stare at the crimson red gashes on her arms. I have to look away right now as I scoop Tommy back up. I immediately walk to the phone in the kitchen and dial 911 as I fumble around, grabbing all paper and linen towels that I can see.
Operator: 911, what's your emergency?
I can't even remember what I said to the operator as I latch onto Lori</color>'s arm, quickly wrapping towels around it, trying to cut off the blood flow before covering up the wounds. Tommy hides in the kitchen as his cries barely cut through the ringing in my ears. The operator keeps me on the phone, but I can't hear anything but the ringing, until Lori</color>'s weakened voice cuts through it.
Lori</color>: Errrrik? Please... take good care of... my... babies...
Me: You won't need me to because... you're... you're going to make it. You promised me earlier that... that we'd be together. You keep that promise to me, Lori</color>!
Lori</color> softly reaches up, incoherently as she pats at her chest, and then she points out toward me. I don't understand it, and what she says next gets to me somewhat, even if it confuses me more.
Lori</color>: It lives on. Our love. Look into his eyes and... and you'll see. Fourth of July, 1986.
Me: Lori</color>, save your energy, the ambulance is on it's way. You're not going to leave me like this.
I squeeze onto her arm as she winces a bit, groaning. I wasn't about to let her die on me. She wraps her arms around me, and I give her the same. She kisses my cheek before burying her face against my shoulder. We sit on the couch as she trembles. I remember that feeling better than anything else. The fear and sadness, the will to live, and the desire to die, battling it out within her. Within a few moments, one side had won... and apparently I wasn't on the winning side of this battle. Lori</color> died in my arms that day. My world was turned upside down, and would never be the same again. I went from a lone wolf bachelor to a father of three that day. That is something, as challenging as it was, I can accept. Losing the love of my life... that is something I can't get over, even with twenty years having passed.
******
February 10th, 2015
******
Erik</color> has a bit of a smile on his face, but tears are in his eyes. A proud man as he is, he wipes away at them, but he can't hide them entirely, as fresh tears appear. He has a bouquet of roses in his hands as he stands over the grave. In his other hand, he has a folded up piece of paper. He opens it up as he tries to read his handwriting through the tears. The light drizzle falling over the suited man doesn't help matters much as the rain drops melt into the paper. He shakes his head as he sets it down atop the tombstone. He chokes on his tears, gasping for breath as he tries to do the one thing he was never able to do before... tell her how he felt.
Erik</color>: You have to give me a mmm-minute here Lori</color>. This isn't easy. It's taken almost 30 years to duh-duh-do this... I wrote a poem that said it perfectly... but I can't read it.
Erik</color> looks down to the ground, almost as if he were ashamed. He tries to look back up to the tombstone as a point of focus, but he can't right now. Through his years, he had gotten a reputation of being a bit of a coward. He had disspelled many of these rumors, but this situation was the one that he had the hardest time dealing with.
Erik</color>: I loved you from the minute I saw you. I never had the guts to say it, and being a whole two years younger than you, I knew you would never accept some fifteen year old's request for a date. My brother had taken a liking to you, and he beat me to the punch. He was always better about expressing his desires than I was.
Erik</color> chuckles a bit, though there is a hint of disgust in his laugh at the same time. He shrugs his shoulders as he looks up to the tombstone finally.
Erik</color>: After getting to know you, I knew that you two weren't a good match. You were far too selfless for him. That was something he took from you. Had I gotten the balls to tell you how I felt sooner, I could have saved your life. I could have stopped you from doing the most selfish thing anyone could ever do... Robbie destroyed himself with his choices, but even he couldn't have done what you did, Lori</color>. He left his kids without a father with his actions, but he did not consciously make the choice to abandon his children. Even worse, you took your life willingly, two months after my brother's death. You left your children with no parents, where my brother left them with one...
Erik</color> tries so hard to show anger in his voice, but it comes across as sullen and insincere. True, he means what he is saying, but as hard as he tries to break things off, he simply cannot. Even in the afterlife, Lori</color> still has his heart. Erik</color> closes his eyes, clinching them as a tear strains through. He sniffs and then coughs as he straightens himself up. He takes a deep breath as he looks down to the roses in his hand before gently placing them on top of the note that rests on the tombstone. He clasps his hands together in front of himself before continuing.
Erik</color>: I didn't come here to remind you of that... I've come here to let you know that I can't do this anymore. I can't bring you flowers. I've deprived myself of many things, because I was unable to let you go. You have my heart... but I need it back. Robbie didn't care that he has a legacy. Two great wrestlers came from him, but I have nothing to show. Before I get too old to enjoy mine, I need to start looking seriously at things. I need you to understand.
As if he had gotten a response, the wind begins blowing rapidly against him. He steadies himself as it threatens to push him away from the grave. Something in him knows he needs to walk away, but he can't. He gasps for air as the tears come on once again. He tries to resist it, but he simply nods his head.
Erik</color>: Thank you...
Erik</color> nods his head as he turns away and walks toward the concrete path. He stops just short of it, and looks back, only to see that the roses have disappeared. The piece of paper with the poem wafts through the breeze, thumping against his chest, sticking to his suit jacket. His face sinks as he grabs at it. He turns around and begins walking on the path, slowly disappearing off into the distance as we fade...
********************
I always have had a rough time since that fateful Valentine's Day back in '89. I spent all day on Tuesday on a plane, trying to put some distance between myself and St. Louis. Between myself and the painful memories that have bound me to my hometown. I needed to get away, and I had a wonderful offer from my Blast From the Past tag team partner, Necra, who invited me to her private island off of the coast of Greece. I had expected to see beautiful green folliage, a serene setting of white sand and crystal blue waters. I did not expect the obvious... showing up to find all of the plants dead, and the sands were reminiscent of a crimson red hue. The only way on and off of the island is by sea. No helicopters allow... I didn't get it, but okay...
The architecture of the land was most astounding. It was a tasteful collision of Greek and Egyptian, with tributes to the Goddess Isis, the God Osiris, Hedes, the guardian of the Underworld, as well as Necra herself. I have to admit that visiting these felt more than just a little creepy, even if I was not invited inside most of these temples. I spent a large portion of my time relaxing and enjoying the cuisine provided for me, and feeling like the king that I rightfully am.
We talked old times, and what lies ahead for both of us. I think we both put things into perspective here for one another. The morning light threatened us, so we parted ways... but not before Necra showed me a mirror. She told me to look into it, and I would see what I wanted to see. Despite everything I had said the other day, a part of me spoke out louder than the rest. Deep down, I knew it wouldn't be so easy to get over my only true love, Lori. I... I spoke to her. I know it sounds desperate and crazy, but I did. She told me how much my love had meant to her up until that point, but she told me that I needed to move on and fine the love that was meant for me. I don't know exactly what she meant, but as heart wrenching as it was, I knew deep down that she was right. I couldn't keep going at this rate. This time of year was always hardest on me, but now... I feel relieved. I feel ready to focus on what lies ahead of me in life. I'm ready to be a better, more focused partner for Necra. Now, on to Oslo... </color>
********************
Returning to my Roots
Oslo, Norway; February 13th, 2015
Sin City Wrestling was traveling across the globe, and their next stop kicks off the Scandanavian leg of the tour, in style, as they head to Oslo, Norway. Today, it was blustery cold. The wind tussled around through the leftover bits of snow, though to the locals, this was probably a welcomes heat wave. Now, what would a trip to Oslo be without a visit to their famous ski jump? Unfortunately, we've missed what was certainly a sight to see, with Erik</color> Staggs bundled up in his ski suit. The look that says "I just shit my pants, and I'm not afraid to admit it" plastered over his face. Who wouldn't want to see a middle aged man flying at the speed of light down a steep slope, only to get launched as high as a bird in the sky? And one can only assume that Erik</color>, a ski novice at best, did NOT stick the landing... Shame, shame camera man Jeff...
However, we were able to catch up with Erik</color> on his next stop, after a day of recuperation from the ski adventure, to find him walking along the outside of the Viking Ship Museum. He appears to be in good spirits as he slowly approaches the front entrance door. He stops and looks up at the two stories of white paneling that adorn the outside before walking along with the gathered crowd. He holds the door open for a lovely local with sky blue eyes and platinum blonde hair. The young lady blushes and flashes Erik</color> a smile before walking ahead of him. He grins as he walks inside. He had to admit that the inside reminded him of a church, as if the outside hadn't been reminiscent of one to begin with. However, the sweet wooden ship that sits smack dab in the center, rather than endless rows of pews, seems to make up for it as he tilts his head to the side in curiosity. The locals and tourists alike mumble in amazement as they walk along the velvet barrier rope to get a better look at the ship being held up on stilts. Erik</color> admires from behind the crowd, wonderment taking him over for a moment.
Erik</color>: Wow...
He just shakes his head as the rest of the crowd moves along. Erik</color> takes a few steps closer, pressing himself against the ropes as he studies the ship. He raises his hand to his chin, stroking it gently as he thinks aloud.
Erik</color>: Just think of how many lands were conquered by the Barbarians that captained this ship. It's amazing... simply amazing.
Erik</color> turns to his right and slowly steps along the barrier, taking in each and every little nick and marking on the outside of the ship, taking in a deep appreciation for it.
Erik</color>: People don't tend to remember that the Vikings were the most feared people on the planet for many centuries. They traveled to places no other explorers dared, and they did so without fear. If they liked it, they took it, by any means necessary. Resistance was futile. Just ask the thousands upon thousands that fell victim to these warriors.
Erik</color> looks over to the camera, acknowledging it for the first time since we began rolling. He is clearly excited to be here. If we had any questions as to why, we would certainly be finding out soon enough.
Erik</color>: When I heard that we were coming to Oslo, Norway on our Scandanavian leg of the World Tour, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to stop by and connect with my own history. The blood of the Vikings travels through my veins. My ancestors were conquerors, rulers. Erik</color> translates to "King" in Scandanavian. Think about that for a moment there...
Erik</color> smirks as he stares, giving us a sort of Dora the Explorer, creepy blank expression before the smirk returns a few seconds later. He slowly begins to nod his head, rolling his fingers around in a churning fashion, humming a "mmm hmm" response.
Erik</color>: Are you getting it now? Where I am going with this? If not, then you've got serious problems with listening, or your name is Delia Darling. Either way, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to see where this is going. You see, it is my birth right to be a ruler. For the last thirty plus years, I have been the ruler of the Staggs Family. I have inspired those who have conquered the wrestling world. If you have not heard the Staggs name, then you are clearly not a wrestling fan. Spike Staggs, former two time GCW Xtreme Champion, former two time GXW X Division former undefeated GXW World Champion, former two time SCW Heavyweight Champion, former two time NeWA World Heavyweight Champion, undefeated in his second reign... yeah, he believes in doing everything twice for some reason.
Erik</color> chuckles as he shakes his head at his seemingly high brow quip. He clears his throat and straightens up slightly, adjusting the collar of his silver shirt beneath his black suit jacket.
Erik</color>: Anyway, that's just the mainstream Staggs legacy. There's also his brother, Jamie, who held the GXW Television Championship, and was the first ever SCW Tag Team Champion, alongside Rage. My third nephew, Tommy, held the GCW Xtreme Championship as well, but he was never one to chase championship gold. He was all about the thrill of flying around the ring. My Great Nephew, Timmy, is on his way to greatness as we speak. So, as you see, wrestling is in our blood. It is embedded in our DNA, from as far back as the Vikings. I gave up a lot to help bring the warrior out in my nephews. I've neglected my own fighting spirit to promote the stars of today. My decision to enter the Blast From the Past tournament was all about taking time to show that I am not just the man behind the warrior, but a warrior in my own right... a warrior king.
Erik</color> leans against one of the poles next to the viking ship for a second as he stares back at the camera. Pride is written across his entire face, but this soon fades into a touch of disappointment as he continues on, passing the ship along. He comes to a small display of Viking weaponry to his right. He steps closer to it, looking at the weapons behind the glass casing.
Erik</color>: People don't stop to think about that, as they just see an old man who seems to be past his prime. As many saw two weeks ago, I might be an "old man", but I'm timeless. My age and experience helped me get past a man I knew nothing about, and had no way of finding anything out about him either. I was at a clear disadvantage with this alone, not to mention my supposed age handicap. Yet, Necra and I overcame Joey Harris and Darknyss with relative ease. However, I'm not sure I can say that we're any luckier this week as we take on Candy Overton and "Dark Tiger" Sebastian Hardin. Wait, why... why does that sound so familiar?
Erik</color> tilts his head to the side as he taps at his chin. His eyes wander across the weaponry in front of him, secretly admiring the deep detail in the design. Suddenly, he gasps and holds a finger up as his eyes widen in surprise.
Erik</color>: I know! You see, two weeks ago, I pinned Joey Harris, eliminating him from the tournament, after all of that trash he was talking. By proxy... I also eliminated Darknyss from this tournament. *Chuckle* Now that... that's got to be tough for Sebastian, doesn't it? I mean, he's got to be looking for some sort of revenge against the man who knocked his wife out of this tournament. Not that I have anything against you, Sebastian. You and your nephew are amazing talents, some of the brightest in the future of the tag division. I respect the both of you, but I know that deep down, the macho bullshit is eating at you a bit, and I understand. If I were in your shoes, I would drive myself crazy thinking about the opportunity to avenge my wife. But you see, this won't be the case.
Erik</color> gives a stern look to the camera as he shakes his head from side to side slowly.
Erik</color>: I mean no disrespect by this at all. I've seen greatness from your family, Sebastian. Your own nephew impressed me right from the beginning of his SCW career, making a run at the Roulette Championship and not stopping until he got it. He did what he had to do in order to capture his glory. I enjoy a good underdog story, and your nephew certainly was that. However, for the same reasons he didn't put loyalties in perspective when chasing his championship glory... I cannot let respect blind me to my ultimate goal. For, you see, Necra Octavian Kane and I will not stop with one win to our names. We're not going to celebrate after we defeat you two, because we will only be half way to our respective goals. Necra and I will earn title shots, and she will save the Bombshell Division from that wretched skank, Delia. In turn, I will get my shot at Gabriel, and I will prove to be anything but a washed up has-been. I will claim my rightful seat at the head of the throne. I will rule SCW like the captain of the ship that sits right behind me. It isn't personal on my end, Sebastian. I really do honestly mean that this is all about business, son.
Erik</color> nods his head, but the serious look spread across his face lets us know that this is a fair warning, and not a group of well thought out empty threats.
Erik</color>: Sunday will be another stone stepped over toward our ultimate goals, Sebastian. But, I'm not going to sit here all day and hammer on about it. No, I intend to shake your hand at the start of our match. I intend to look you dead in the eye, Sebastian. I want you to see the look of a warrior, the icy cold stare from my inner Viking, and I want you to give me your best shot. But, I am telling you now... what ever happens as a result of that first shot... I cannot be held accountable for it once the final bell rings. But, don't worry, Hardin. I expect the very same treatment from you. You see, you and I will shake the ring as we tear each other apart. Now, I will ask you to warn your partner, Candy. She has such a lovely face, and a charming personality. I'd hate for her to rub Necra the wrong way, because Necra will rub her right back. Now, by rub, I mean break any bone that she comes into contact with. Neither one of us can stop it, either. Candy might have impressed two weeks ago, but this time, you both are going against a team with past experience, a team that is very familiar with one another. I beg you not to let Candy into this for too long, because I have to let Necra do what she needs to do. You understand, don't you?
Erik</color> nods his head, asking this seriously. Blinking for a second, he waits for an answer that never comes... at least that we can hear. After a moment, he takes in a deep breath through his nose.
Erik</color>: I certainly hope so... Now, let's continue this in the ring next Sunday, shall we? I have a tour group to catch up with here. I will see you at Climax Control, son...
Erik</color> winks once before turning to give the weapons in front of him one last look before he walks over toward the group that is gathering around a second, slightly smaller ship. The tour guides continue speaking, one in English, and the other in Norwegian. Erik</color> hides himself amongst the crowd as the scene fades out... TO BLACK!
