<img align=left src= "http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v428/CMFrank04/BoDreamwolf01.jpg" width="244" height="334">"I had never understood just how much work went into booking and promoting a professional wrestling event. Not until the time had come where I decided to book my own."

"I guess this might take a bit of explaining how I came about this decision. Don't get me wrong. I'm not looking to compete with Sin City Wrestling. I have absolutely no intention of promoting wrestling being the next step on my career path. This was just an idea that I had that could help provide some much needed aid to the poor souls who had suffered so much from the Hurricane Sandy tragedy. After all, many other celebrities had taken steps to raising funds for the disaster relief funds floating around. Why couldn't I do the same? (Not that I consider myself a celebrity by any meaning of the word.)"

"So here I am, laying the groundwork for what was going to perhaps be one of the most unique and satisfying experiences of my life."

"The first step was to figure out whether or not I was going to need a license to promote wrestling. I know this was to be for charity and a one-time only thing, but in situations such as these, you can't afford to skip any steps on the ladder that is the law. The last thing I would need is to be escorted out of the building in handcuffs just as soon as the opening bell had sounded. I mean, if that's what would happen. I don't know. I guess the worst that could happen would be they'd simply cancel the show."

"I wasn't taking any chances, however, so I started doing research on all avenues."

"The first thing I discovered was that I indeed did need a license for the state of Oklahoma. I suppose I could have looked elsewhere but this was going to be a personal endeavor, and not only did I want this held in my home state, but I was determined to hold it in my home town. So I set about applying and woe be to me when I discovered a year long license would cost me over a thousand dollars! That was a definite road block because I just did not have that kind of money to spend. I know many of my peers in SCW speak of big money, but the fact of the matter is, their money comes from other promotions or endeavors. SCW is an indy fed and no indy fed pays out thousands of dollars in salaries. I was ready to just pack the idea in when my sister, Abigail, pointed out something that I hadn't noticed. A simple month long license would only cost one hundred dollars. Now, as much of a tight wad as I like to consider myself, that I would be able to swing. It just turned out that I didn't have to. My sister and grandmother both wanted to help in some way with the disaster relief funds, so they each contributed half of the money I would need for a promoter's license."

"I truly do love my family for the faith they show in me, and it opened the door for me to get things started. The next thing I was going to need was a location, but that was actually the first piece of the puzzle that I had solved."

"So, Bo. What can I do for you?" The principal of the school where I taught, Mister Montoya, asked as he took a seat at his desk, opposite of where I had currently accepted a chair of my own. The teachers of the school, Mister Montoya most of all, were perhaps critical of my second profession, but also incredibly supportive. They knew well that many of my students appreciated professional wrestling as fans, and knew that I incorporated this fandom into many of my lessons to their own benefit.

It was why I immediately thought of this school.

I answered, "Well, it's going to be a bit of a surprise to you, I'm sure. But, I would like the use of the school gym to hold a wrestling show."

"A wrestling show?" Mister Montoya repeated with a knitted frown.

"Yessir." I said with a nod to confirm what he had heard. "It was an idea that came to me some time ago after the Hurricane hit the East coast. I wanted to see if I could hold a show that could raise funds to send to New York and the other states hit for disaster relief."

Mister Montoya nodded, then said, "I see. Well, it's a noble idea. Not something unexpected to anyone that knows you Bo, but you have to understand why I might be a bit hesitant. Not everyone here at the school supports that business, and some might even disagree with the use of our school for such an event."

"A regular show, perhaps." I conceded. "But I don't think anyone would object to a show being held for a charitable cause. And if there were any, I think it could be argued that the pros would far outweigh any cons on the matter. The violence factor should not be an issue, as there is far more violence in the average TV show or movie than any wrestling show."

"And the sex factor?" Mister Montoya asked. "I might not be a fan but I know much wrestling is built around glorifying the women involved, and to some extent, the men."

"True." I nodded, then added with a laugh. "I mean, I myself found myself an unwilling participant in a mud pool match! But, this isn't any promotion out to raise eyebrows or push the limits. This is just a one time show that I'd like to hold, featuring some of the men and women I've grown to know over the years. It would give the kids a nice evening out, and raise money for a worthy cause. I even have a few ideas on how to involve the students, you know, to give them a sense of accomplishment."

Mister Montoya nodded, his hands clasped on his desk. I could tell he was thinking it over and the idea, I could see, had merit in his eyes. This was my only real shot at doing this because there was no way I could rent a venue for use.

"And you're sure the school gym would be large enough for this?" He asked me.

"Oh, definitely." I nodded. "We could easily fit over a thousand people in the audience with the stands and chairs on the floor. I don't think we'll get quite that many, but one can hope."

He rubbed his chin and sighed before he said, "The minor worry would be the fact that we just had the gymnasium floors finished." He looked up at me and smiled. "But I imagine that's why the school also has insurance. Bo, you can use the gym."

I could not help but feel the smile immediately on my face as I reached over the desk and shook my boss's hand, thanking him profusely.

"Okay, those hurdles had been leapt over, so I could move on from the where to the when. One thing I knew in this sport was that timing was everything. People would not attend the show if they didn't have available funds, so the earlier in the month, the better. Also, weekends were a must. I would have preferred a Friday or a Saturday as those were the single most ideal days of the week for any wrestling show, and especially the independents."

"However, that was one luxury I would not be privy too and I had to settle for a Sunday afternoon. Reason being was the school had a few weekend events already scheduled that I could not in good conscience compete with."

"So Sunday it was. The next thing I was going to need was a ring, and I knew of only one person who had their own."

"Yer own rasslin' show?" My mentor, Mister Austin Parker, questioned over the telephone.

"Yeah." I said as I sat back in my favorite chair in my living room. "To raise money for New York. I got a date and a place to hold it. I just need a ring to use and since you're the only person I know of that owns one, and I'm on a pretty tight budget..."

"You thought you'd call the old man and see if you could use his." He finished for me.

"Well no. I had no intention of calling an old man." I smiled with genuine laughter in my voice. "I was actually thinking of you."

"Oo! Flattery!" Mister Parker said from his end of the phone. "Very smart! Alright kid, we can do this. You jest give me the time and place and ah'll get the ring there in plenty of time."

"How?" I couldn't help but blurt out. The question came to me so swiftly, I couldn't help but wonder why I didn't think of it before I made this call.

"Ah do own a truck, y'know." Mister Parker answered. "An' ah got a trailer big enough to haul the ring in. We'll jest need a few guys to help get it moved into yer gym or whatever and put it together."

"Not a problem." I said. "I can help with that and a few of the teachers said they would help too if we needed it."

"Fine."

"Oh, one more thing." I said.

"Of course." he said with a mocking tone but one that I had become accustomed to over the years. "Can't make this easy, can ya? What is it?"

I said, "Since this is a charity event, I was hoping all proceeds would go to the cause. Do you know of any workers who would be willing ....?"

"To travel to Oklahoma and work for free?" He finished.

"Yeah..." I said, hesitant, because I worried about what the answer might be. "I have a couple of guys here and there who said they'd do it, but I'm obviously going to need more."

"Ah think ah might know a few." He said, easing my tension. "Hell, maybe ah can get Derrick an' Tony to do something for it."

Derrick and Tony? Of course! Chippendale and Thunder! The fans knew them as the tag team legends, Twisted Steel and Sex Appeal. They had just stepped out of retirement for a one-time only wrestling match against Mister Ward and Jordan Williams in a Legends Tag Team Match. I knew that they and Thunder's two children called New York City home so this disaster affected them greatly. They left the state for the time being and were currently staying at Mister Parker and his wife's ranch in Atlanta.

He then said, "You get yours confirmed. Then call me back in a couple days. Ah'll start placing some calls and see what ah can do."

"Thank you." I said, and after giving my mentor my good-bye, I hung up and started to breathe just a little easier.

"Mister Parker did more than just get a few names. He called in a number of his contacts and I ended up with a plethora of who's who in this business, men and women, ready, willing and able to make the trip here to work this show for free for a worthy cause."

"I could hardly believe it!"

"Okay! I had the venue, a ring and the men and women who would be participating. I dipped into a bit of my savings to get some posters and the tickets printed. Now all I needed was help in the advertising. I knew just how to spread word around the fastest way possible. They don't call the internet the 'information highway' for nothing."

"So, here's the deal." I said as I took a seat on the edge of my desk to address my class. "Many of you already know that our school will be holding a wrestling show in the gym to raise funds for Hurricane Sandy victims."

Many of the students nodded, and a number even wore smiles and fist bumped their neighbors -- showing perhaps more enthusiasm for the show itself rather than the cause.

I went on, "And given I am the one in charge of promoting it, I am going to need some help. And I'm willing to make this an extra credit project for everybody -- even those of you who have no interest in wrestling."

Drew Anglen, a fifteen year old boy seated in the center of the class, raised his hand before speaking and asked, "What do you want us to do?"

"Simple." I smiled. "I want you all to use your hobbies to the benefit of those on the East Coast. I know many of you have both Twitter and Facebook accounts, because I have a number of you on my friends lists on those websites. I am going to pass along a sheet to everyone here with all the information on the show. The date, time, location, who will be appearing -- everything. I want you to promote this as much as possible. Post it on your Facebook walls and Twitter posts. Share it with others. I'll be posting a scan of the poster for the show. Feel free to share that as well, and encourage your friends to do the same. The more word gets spread, the bigger crowd we'll draw and the more money we'll raise."

A miss Veronica Coates asked, "I know I'm going to sound like a total dweeb asking this, but what if we're not into the whole Facebook/Twitter thing? How can we get the same extra credit?"

I turned at the waist and picked up a large stack of what were the posters made for the show. I turned and held them up for all to see and said, "If anyone finds themselves in that situation, or if they want to do a little extra to help, I'll give you some of these posters to put up around town. Store windows, telephone poles, memo boards inside of grocery stores, the YMCA, whatever you can manage. Point is, everyone can benefit from this. And, for those of you who are interested in wrestling, you do this, and I'll let you into the show for free and see to it you get to meet the wrestlers backstage."

That little announcement was met with quite a bit of excited chatter from many of the kids in the class.

"It wasn't just the kids who helped advertise this show. I sent the details too every wrestling website and newsletter with credibility. I spoke to the local news in case they'd be interested in covering any details of the show for the newscast. I also gave all the details, and a few tickets, to a couple of the radio stations around town so they would both advertise the show, while running contests for the tickets and hyping their own ratings all in one fell swoop."

"Finally the night of the show arrived, and I couldn't possibly have been more thrilled -- or nervous. I had the final list of who would be working and sat down a week in advance and took all the names and came up with what I thought would be a fun show for all involved. I then called Mister Parker and his wife to get their take on what I came up with."

"They proceeded to take it apart and switched the matches around to what I have to admit, was even better. (Yeah there is a definite reason I am not a promoter!)"

"I was the first to show up at the gym, as was only fair. A local DJ, and a fan of the sport, had agreed to use his incredible set up for our sound system. Mister Parker arrived soon after, along with his family, and Chippendale and Thunder, and they and my teaching colleagues, had the ring set up in no time at all."

"The local Coca Cola distributor also got involved, and set up no less than three of their vendor trucks outside of the school for our use to sell snacks and drinks for the show. Students and their parents took charge of those, and all proceeds from these sales also went to the cause."

"I can't tell you how thrilled I was as I stood in the back of the school and welcomed each and every man and woman who arrived to give their time and bodily welfare for this cause. I met each one with a shake of the hand, greeting them as a friend and equal. I let not one pass by me without giving them my thanks and appreciation. I watched as they went down the hall and took a look at the large blackboard with the show's rundown on it. Who they would be working with and in what order. They then moved on and separated into either the boy's lockerroom, or the girl's."

"Despite all of this, the one thing I worried about the entire time was what kind of crowd would be drawn to this event?"

"As it would turn out, I had no reason to fret at all."

"Wow." I murmured as I peeked from behind the curtains erected over the door of the gym where the wrestlers would be making their way to the ring.

The gymnasium was packed - literally! Every seat that I could see was taken, from the folding chairs around the floor, to the stands on three sides of the gym itself! I was so damned proud of my kids! They really came through!

And the enjoyment was not lost on anyone in the crowd, as there was a little something for everyone involved. They were behind the show and all of the wrestlers from the start to the end. Even my sister and Grandmother pitched in, taking the tickets at the door.

It all opened when a young Japanese wrestler named Condor Sawaii traveled down from Canada where he was working regularly to open the show against another cruiserweight in the multi-colored Heavy Metal. These two kids put on a high flying exhibition that even had the workers in the back stunned with awe. There were countless near falls until Condor put Heavy Metal down for the pin.

Then a part of me had been curious if we could pull off something a bit edgy for this show, so I spoke to Mister Parker about a man he had worked with many times in the past named Brian DeFuria. This guy was nicknamed the Ragin Cajun and with good reason; he took the term hardcore to the extreme. He started off as a 'pretty boy' wrestler, but then outgrew it and went hardcore which quickly would become his trademark. Well he agreed to travel from Louisiana for this show and his match against KORE: Python was just brutal! Considering we were in a school filled with kids, I asked both guys to avoid blood letting, if at all possible. They agreed (begrudgingly), but that didn't mean they went easy on one another! Anything they could get their hands on, they used! They fought all over the gym until Brian pinned Python while he was stuck inside of a mangled trash can. I paid particularly close attention to this match, because I would be competing in a Hardcore match soon myself. My first, and what better way to learn than by close observation? Okay, so maybe there was a bit of an ulterior motive in my booking this. So sue me.

I know a number of the people working this show were less than well-known, but I was very lucky to get some SCW stars to take part. Even the bosses took part as Mister Underwood teamed up with his 'husband' and partner in Scott Schriener aka the Big Pump and this could have easily been billed as another Legend's Tag Team match as they opposed the other half of the SCW bosses, Mister Ward and Jordan Williams. It was a big win for Hot n Sexy when Mister Ward pinned Mister Underwood right there in the middle of the ring!

I knew deep down I had to give those teenage boys I taught a bit of a treat so there wasn't any chance that I would not book the ladies. Fantasia of the Seven Sins stepped back into the ring and she went up against one-half of the Party Girls in Brandi Shotze. It's true what they say about the female of the species being deadlier than the male because these two women went at it, tooth and nail! Brawling! Wrestling! Catfighting! They did it all, right up until Brandi pinned Fantasia to end their contest.

I wanted a big match as the next to last and another tag team match I felt would be popular. I spoke to the right men and found myself booking the popular tandem of Gabriel and Despayre against one of their own teammates, Shane Boswell, and his cousin and former partner, Jason Adams. It had been years since Bad Medicine worked together as a team but the chemistry was still there, as evidenced by the fact that the dominant Sins could not defeat them and both teams went to a thrilling thirty minute draw that had everyone on the edge of their seats!

Then it came time for the last match, the main event. Yes, I was involved. I could not resist the temptation of wrestling in front of my kids and some of my colleagues. I wanted to be earlier in the show but Mister Parker and his wife pointed out that in this case, I would be the so-called 'hometown hero' and I should be on last to draw the most out of the show. I didn't agree with that, but who was I to argue against the more experienced? The thing was, who would I be working against? That answer came in surprising fashion as none other than Synn himself stepped out of retirement to be my opponent. The man had not competed in a number of years but that did not stop him from throwing everything he had at me, and in brutal fashion! How he maintained that physique is beyond me but good God! If I had any notion he might take it easy on me since it was my hometown, I was sorely mistaken! I'd like to think I gave as good as I got, but nothing I did seemed to be able to hurt him or wear him down enough to put his shoulders to the mat. Yeah, in case you haven't guessed -- I lost the match. Synn pinned me, and I hate to admit it, but he did it cleanly.

I could hear my kids boo when Synn was announced as the winner, but I hugged the man never the less and thanked him profusely for the match. I then closed the night off by thanking everyone for everything they did to help make this show a success.

It was truly a night to be remembered.

"Would I do it all over again? Most likely, if the cause was just, but now there are other avenues to take. other paths to cross, and Blaque Hart Bruce Evans is the first among them."

"This match between us has been long in coming, and there is little more that can be said between us to tell the other, and everyone else listening, our take on the other. I admire the man for what he is able to accomplish in the ring, if not his ethics in doing so. When he told me he could handle his own against me in the Scientific Rules match we competed in, I was skeptical. But I'll be damned if he didn't keep to his word and give me everything he could and then some. Still, it wasn't his arm that was raised at the end of the evening. That distinction belonged to yours truly."

"It'll be the very least that I can do when I return the favor and face him in this Hardcore Rules match that he has been so desperate to get me into. I still believe that he just wants a match with no rules, because in a fair fight, he was unable to get the job done. Trash cans. Kendo sticks. Steel chairs. Those are the tools he needs to try and put me down successfully in the ring. Not armbars, suplexes or step over toe holds."

"Well, it's all nice in theory, but there will be a very big difference in his accepting my challenge as opposed to my accepting his;"

"I won't lose."

 "I love Halloween. I always have."

"Ever since I was a kid and when Abigail and my parents were still alive, Halloween was by far my favorite holiday. I loved the whole costumes and Trick or Treat traditions. The horror movies and even as an adult, staying at home and passing out candy to the tots who would come to our door, begging for treats."

"After our parents passed on, Grams and Grandfather took up the tradition to take Abigail and myself out each Halloween once dusk started to set it. Some narrow minded individuals always thought she and I would be dressed as Native Americans, for obvious reasons. But no. We always enjoyed being creative with our costumes. I preferred monsters with the goriest makeup I could muster. Abigail always fancied fantasy females such as elves and faeries. Oh man, I just wish I could show you the picture of her in this really elaborate faerie costume from when she was eleven! Unfortunately though, beautiful as it was, she grew self conscious over the years and won't let anyone be shown."

"I can remember when as a teenager I was too old to go out Trick or Treating, I would stay at home with my grandparents and help them hand out candy. Not that I actually beat them to the door very often in order to do so. You see, handing out candy that one spooky night was a favorite for our Grandparents as well. The neighborhood kids always knew it would be worth coming to our house in particular because our Grandparents always had the best treats to give out. Not just candy, either, but popcorn balls and caramel apples. They had it all to give away -- what Abigail and I didn't help ourselves to when we were able, I should add."

"I even remember the one year Grandfather fell ill and could not take Abigail out, so while Grams handed out candy at home, I took it upon myself to escort my baby sister out for what turned out to be her last year to Trick or Treat. The following year she decided she was too mature for such silliness."

"Baloney, I say. Nobody is too old to enjoy this dark holiday with candy and movies, goblins and witches. It's just all a matter of having fun but doing it safely. That's why I went to the school board at the Sequoyah school and proposed what I thought would be an ideal way for the kids too old for trick or Treating to enjoy the holiday. It would also be 'safer' than seeing them running around in the dark, playing pranks or God forbid, stealing the smaller children's hard earned candy."

"Hey, it happens. Sad, but true."

---

All of this is why I'm in the kitchen of our home, working my butt off, trying to get everything ready. By now I probably smell like a sugar factory, given as many treats that my Grandmother, sister and I have dutifully prepared for this school party in which the three of us would be helping to chaperone.

I wanted everything to be perfect for the kids. Granted, they'd probably not even care how nicely these treats were being presented. They'd just grab and chow down -- which is probably what I would do if I were in their shoes. (Heck, I snuck a few myself when neither of the women folk were looking. Shh!)

"I still think you're over doing it a bit." Abigail said as she walked in and surveyed the sweet scene. All around us on every counter and all over the table were small plates and baskets filled with everything from caramel corn to candy apples, and my Grandmother's special sugar cookies decorated with colored icings to befit the holiday.

"How can you say that?" I shook my head as I looked about, apparently not seeing what she was. "Willy Wonka himself would be proud of what we accomplished in this kitchen."

"Yeah, my point exactly." Abigail smiled as she started to pick up some baskets in hand. "Are you sure enough kids will even be showing up?"

I nodded and followed her lead, picking up some plates with homemade rocky road fudge piled high one them. "I think so." I said as I followed her out into the hall. "It's not just the grade I teach that's coming. Everyone from the freshmen to the seniors were invited."

"I hope you're right." She said as we set down our load down on the tables in the hall, right by the front door. She turned around and dusted off her hands. "You sure spent enough on all of this."

"No more than you do when you cook for Christmas." Our Grandmother spoke up, stepping out into the hall from the front room where she had been prettying up some of the covered platters I had made up, filled with her homemade butter cookies. Just covering them up wasn't enough, apparently. They had to have orange and black ribbon and little ghost stickers as well.

Hey, whatever tickled her fancy. That's what I say.

"That's different." Abigail protested with a faux air of indifference. "That's Christmas."

"Yeah and that's just figuring for family." I smiled, reaching into a bowl and grabbing a handful of Abigail's caramel corn before she could so much as smack my hand for doing so. I popped a few pieces into my mouth and replied while munching, "This is going to be for a lot of kids so I want it to be fun for them."

"Mm hm." Abigail pursed her lips and pointed toward me with her finger. "And I'm sure the other teachers will be impressed with that caramel stuck between your teeth."

Hm, damn. I frowned and went toward the mirror that was hung on the hallway wall and picked at the spot with my pinky while I listened to my Grandmother speak;

"You can't tell me you don't want those boys and girls to enjoy these treats. You took a great deal of care making those candy apples."

She really did, actually. Anybody can shove a stick in an apple and dip it in hot caramel. But my sister took each one after she dipped them and added something special to it. M&Ms, crushed peanuts, mini marshmallows ... oh she did it all. If she thought it would go well on them, she went crazy.

"Oh, I know." I heard Abbey say, admitting defeat. "It was fun. I just want to make sure the night goes well for Bo, too."

Grandmother said, "It will. We'll be keeping him company and the other teachers and parents chaperoning will be bringing food too."

"Not as much as this candy glutton I call a brother is, I'll bet."

Damn, that took long enough. I gotta remind myself how dangerous caramel popcorn is on these teeth! Almost as bad as Milk Duds. Now those things are hell!

"You know..." I spoke up as I turned around the corner to approach them where they were chatting. "You two don't have to come with, if you'd rather stay at home. Trick or Treat isn't until next week anyway so there's still that if you'd rather..."

"Oh nonsense!" Grandmother said, waving off my concern with a flick of her hand. "Someone has to be there to make sure you don't eat all of this before it even gets to the school."

I had suspected they were only going with me to keep an eye on me or because they missed me from when I was on the road. This wouldn't be the first school function Abigail volunteered to help me with, with Grams coming with to help out any way she could. There was the spaghetti dinner to raise funds for the band, and a bake sale for the cheerleaders, as well.

It hadn't really occurred to me that perhaps they wanted to go simply to keep themselves busy. Grams always loved being around kids of any age, so I couldn't fault her for that. Abigail enjoyed helping me out at these functions simply because. I imagine it was also a way for my sister and myself to get our Grandmother out of the house more often, as well.

"Woman's got a point." Abigail said. "You've already eaten half the fudge I made for tonight."

I could not help but shrug at her, trying to look as innocent as possible (and failing miserably). "Hey, it's your fault. Not mine." I reasoned -- badly. "You should have made something other than rocky road."

"I did." She said with a comical sneer as she started to walk past me. "You ate that too."

"Oh yeah." I frowned, remembering. "I'm going to have to jog an extra mile just to work all that off."

"An extra five miles is more likely." Grams added, patting my stomach as she passed. Boy! Grandmothers really knew how to zing their grand kids -- and without fear of reprisal!

"Hey..." I called out in a sad protest, my hand on my stomach where she swatted it. "I am not..."

I glanced down and patted my own stomach. Oh. Maybe I am getting a little....

"Well it's your fault!" I called out toward the two women, following them into the kitchen. "All that good cooking you two are always coming up with..."

"And the Whoppers and Big Macs when you're on the road..." Grams said.

Abigail chimed in, "And the fact he can't seem to pass a Wendys without stopping for one of those Frostys."

"What is this!?" I called out, aghast. "Pick On Bo Day?"

Grams and Abigail shared a look and then said together, "Yes!"

Oh ... pth!" I stuck my tongue out at the two of them and blew a raspberry. "We still have a couple of hours before we have to get all this to the school. So there's time for you to go get ready."

"Ready?" Abigail frowned. "I'm ready."

I turned from the counter where I had started to load my arms up with plates of candy and looked her over. A tan sweater, a matching calf length skirt and her favorite boots. I kept my head down but looked up at her through my eyebrows and she stood firm, planting her hands squarely on her hips.

She asked, "And just what is wrong with what I have on?"

I could not help but feel the smile grow on my face. She didn't "get it" and that little bit of info just made me feel all the more smug.

"It's not very fitting for a Halloween party, is it?" I asked, smiling wide.

It dawned on her. I could tell the moment she understood what I expected as soon as I saw her frown. She started to shake her head.

"Oh, no. No way." She said, waving her hands, palm out. "I have not worn a costume in since I was a kid, Bo."

"It doesn't have to be anything elaborate, Abbey." Oops. Used her least favorite nickname -- again. (heh) "Just a little something to suit the occasion. I am." I shrugged and jetted a thumb at our Grandmother. "Grams is."

Abigail turned to her and her frown turned to a raised brow of surprise. She asked, "You are?"

"Why not?" Grams replied, taking a bite of a sugar cookie. "I'm a good sport."

"And young for her age." I winked, then turned to my sister with an overwhelming sense of superiority. "C'mon Abbey, er, Abigail. You don't want to be the only one standing out, do you?"

Abigail looked back and forth between Grams and her beloved brother (that's me), before she huffed and snatched a plate off of the counter and 'stormed' off into the hall. I laughed (albeit silently) and held my hand out to Grams and she slapped her palm down into it in an amusing 'low-five'.

---

Any worries my sister had about the student turnout was unfounded as the school's cafeteria was packed with teens from freshmen to seniors, each one in costume to take advantage of the evening's good will from their school teachers, directors and family volunteers. The lights were kept low for atmosphere and theme music from scary Halloween movies was playing through the school's sound system.

An entire table set up back against the wall was filled with treats from not just my household, but a number of others. We really wanted these kids to have a safe and fun celebration, and it appeared they were. I looked around from where I stood against the far wall with my own family, and saw so many kids in the most colorful and elaborate of costumes, many with plates piled high in their hands while they talked and mingled with their peers.

Grams was chatting with two teachers, and I noticed Abigail maneuvering her way from the table after having freshened it up and approaching me. I couldn't help but smile at how great she looked. If Mister Ward saw her dressed up in this medieval style gown and feathered ball mask, I think his heart would thump right out of his chest. Our Grandmother was just as sweet, in her black and red sweater, Mickey Mouse ears atop her scalp and a little black smudge on her nose, just because.

What was I wearing? Well given my long hair and the shape of my face, I happened to fall to the ideas of my students (the girls that is), and I ended up as a Native American version of a Lord of the Rings elf. I doubt I'd ever live it down if Mister Parker saw me dressed like this, but then Mister Ward told me about a party where my mentor was dressed up like Julius Caesar so I don't have much to worry about.

Abigail arrived at my side with a plate filled with cookies and a few pieces of fudge and handed it to me. Have I ever mentioned how much I love my little sister?

She said, "The kids look like they're having a great time."

I nodded, enjoying a bite of butter cookie before I responded, "I'm glad, and a bit relieved."

"relieved?"

"Hey, I was hoping this would all work out for the best but I have to admit, I was a little worried not very many would show."

Abigail smiled and leaned against the wall at my side.

"So you have to leave in the morning for Las Vegas?" She asked casually.

"Yeah." I said, keeping my eyes closely on the kids dancing on the open floor. "I'll get back sometime Monday evening if all goes well. Then I have to get ready for the big show." I looked over my shoulder at her and asked, "You and Grams are coming with me for that one, right?"

"Yes." She answered with a nod. "Though I haven't told her yet what kind of match you let yourself get hoodwinked into."

"I didn't get 'hoodwinked' Abigail. the man challenged me, and I accepted."

She turned to look at me and I hated seeing that kind of worry in her eyes. I knew already she was thinking about my injuries and what a match with no rules could do to them.

She said, "You could have turned it down."

I chuckled and shook my head, "No. No, I couldn't have. Not if I wanted to keep forging ahead there. He accepted mine, so what's fair is fair."

"Your challenge didn't involve the loophole where he could bash your head in with a trash can, Bo."

"Point well taken." I admitted. "But I guess it's just an aspect of the business. Or a guy thing. I have to do it. I accepted. The contracts are signed. It's a done deal."

"You're going to have to tell Grams sooner or later what you got yourself into." Abigail pointed out. "You know that, right?"

"I know." I said quietly. I turned to her and gave her my best smile. "Everything's going to be fine."

She gifted me with a shoulder nudge before the two of us turned back to watch the kids enjoying themselves. Everything would be fine.

It had to be.

---

"Well, I had been hoping for some time for another opportunity at an SCW Championship, but I have to admit that this isn't quite what I expected."

"I will be the first to admit this puts me in an awkward position. And I'm not saying that because the bosses have a nasty sense of humor that put me with Bruce Evans for a partner -- again. I'm saying it because I never really saw myself as a tag team wrestler. I've been wrestling for a number of years now and it was just something that never drew me in. I just could not see myself just standing there on the ring apron, watching someone else wrestle while I waited to get tagged into the match. And yet, here I am! Not in just an ordinary tag team match, but a match competing for the Sin City Wrestling Tag Team gold."

"This is going to be a daunting task, to say the very least. Again, I'm not referring to the fact that the man watching my back as my partner will most likely end up stabbing me in the same back he should be keeping an eye on."

"No, I'm referring to the simple fact that the team that we're trying to dethrone has never suffered a loss together as a team in the three years that they've been together. That is one monumental accomplishment and I don't know of any other tag team in wrestling history that can even touch that. I asked Mister Parker if he knew of any, and you know what he said? There's just never been a tag team like Despayre and Gabriel in the business before. I believe that."

"I did what I always do when faced with wrestlers I've never opposed before. I studied them. I looked up every match I could of them in both SCW as well as their old stomping grounds in the Asylum Wrestling Alliance, and my god I've never seen such teamwork! They really are bonded like brothers, let alone close friends. And the fact that they are as different as night and day both personally as well as professionally makes them all the more troubling to try to handle."

"Gabriel is as fine a competitor as you could ever hope to set foot in the ring against. I would certainly rather have him for a friend than an enemy. What else can you say about a man who was the very first Heavyweight Champion of the SCW? His loss was controversial in itself, but the man is just talented! He is a skilled technician but takes to the air to throw off the opposition. That is where I am going to have to focus on countering. Gabriel has earned his place in the business. The man has my respect for his work ethic and the fact he can blend his ring style with showmanship like I've never seen before. If he's watching this right now, I want to wish him the best of luck. I'm hoping to work a bit of magic myself and do what nobody else has been able to do; dethrone the Sins."

"His partner, Despayre, I just do not know what to think about that kid! I have heard stories about his past a bit, random locker room gossip I guess you might call it, and it's disheartening to think what he's been through. Yet it's quite heartening to see what he's managed to fight past and accomplish with his own shortcomings. The thing is, whatever you might think would hold him back, almost seems to empower him. I have watched every match I could find of this young man, and I repeat; I do not know what to do about him! He is small in stature, but where you might think that would be a hindrance, he uses it to his advantage. I have watched so many of his opponents struggle just to get a hand hold on him. He's like greased lightning to get a hold of, and just about as dangerous once you manage to. Despayre is a gifted aerial wrestler, and that can be countered, but the times when he just seems to, I guess 'snap' is the word for it, I don't know of any counter for competing against an animal. And by animal I mean absolutely no offense. That is just the first word that comes to mind when I see him just go on the attack. He appears hard enough to get a two count on, let alone a three count!"

"The ironic thing? Mister Parker told me about a time a few years back when they first started wrestling when Synn brought them to the Parker ranch for a training session. He put them through the ringer a bit, though not nearly as rough as he still does to me to this day. He told me basically the same thing that I tell you; Gabriel and Despayre are as different as night and day -- and that's exactly what makes them so dangerous together. Their styles blend perfectly, but what's more important? They actually care about what happens to the other. They may not be blood, but they are brothers."

"I can not say the same about my own partner, but if he can keep from kicking me when I'm down (again!), then I won't German suplex him on his head, either. I'm going out there with every intent to walk away with the tag team belts with new owners. Gabriel and Despayre -- good luck my friends. Blaque Hart Bruce Evans  -- don't even think about doing what I know you're thinking about doing!"

 I am not normally someone who enjoys shopping. I admit I find it to be somewhat of a waste of time to walk into a store or a mall for the sole purpose of browsing and/or window shopping. I just feel like there's so much that could be done and accomplished aside from wandering around a mall or Target or ... wherever and just looking at stuff. If I don't have a list when Grams sends me to the grocery, I'm lost.

(That or I wind up returning home with the wrong brand of something or other but that's neither here nor there.)

If I have to go to the mall or some department store, it's for a specific reason. I have something I want to buy. I walk in, buy it, walk out. Simple, yes? Not when you have a Grandmother and sister who feel the opposite way that you do, it isn't. I've never understood how those two can spend so long at a Target or a Wal-Mart, and even longer at the local mall. Seriously, who spends an entire day at the mall just looking around? My family, that's who. And it's yours truly who always ends up doing the driving because I realize shopping is one of our Grandmother's simple pleasures that she can still indulge in in her late years, and I want to be there for as much of it as possible. I can only be thankful that they just do this once every other week.

So I have to sit back and ask myself; why am I enjoying this?

I'd spent most of the morning here at this quaint street market here in Tokyo, and found myself genuinely interested in much of what the proprietors were selling in each one. There was everything from arts and crafts to fresh food, and even pastries and the like. I found myself quite surprised when I ran across another stall where an elderly gentleman was selling Native American weaves that one might hang from their walls. They were of beautiful quality and handmade from what I could gather. I wanted immediately to buy one or two for home (and did), but that did not stop me from insisting on authentic Japanese goodies for my two special ladies back home.

(And maybe a gift for Brandi Shotze as well.)

I had already decided that both Grandmother and Abigail would get kimonos. Heck, I was tempted to get one for myself as well. How can you not look at that colors and artistry of those gorgeous robes and not want to indulge and get one for yourself?

I knew that Mister Parker was somewhat annoyed at me. He hated shopping even more than I did, but I saw him looking at those same kimonos too when his wife had her back turned or was moving toward another stall to look about. He wanted to get straight to our training session at a colleague's gym. I'm sorry but this wasn't going to wait. I had cut my first promo against Blaque Hart and with a second still in the waiting list and training to come, I was going to have precious little time to do a little shopping so I could pick up some souvenirs for my family that was waiting back home.

I also had a little bit of a side stop that I had to make here, myself.

"Bo?"

I turned at the sound of my name being called and spotted Ms. Angel over at a stall across the street. She was waving to me and I scooped up my bags and headed on over to see what it was that had caught her eye and how it involved me.

She asked me, "Are these what you were looking for?"

She stepped aside and motioned with her hand to draw my attention to a large table carefully decorated with an allotment of porcelain and wooden nesting dolls. For those who aren't aware (or who haven't read the appropriate promo), a nesting doll is a series of sculpted dolls, each smaller than the last and placed inside of the other. Grams had always wanted one and it was one of the main reasons behind my little shopping excursion today.

"Yes!" I smiled and moved around the table to inspect them while a kindly looking elderly Japanese woman smiled and waited patiently. I had to admit that I was spoiled for choices and wished my Grandmother could see them and choose the one she herself liked best. Each one was decorated subtly with paints and carvings and appeared as smooth as silk to the touch.

"Found `em?" Mister Parker asked as he joined us at the booth, and a quick glance from both Ms. Angel and myself allowed us to see a couple new bags in his hand from that booth that was selling kimonos. I knew he would! "Maybe now we can get going and get to the gym?" He offered and was promptly swatted in the stomach by his wife. He rubbed the spot with his free hand and frowned down at her (and I mean 'down' -- he's 6'5" and she's 5'4"). He asked, "What the hell was that for?"

Ms. Angel said, gesturing toward me, "He's trying to pick the perfect one for his grandma. Give him some breathing space."

I heard a quiet 'huff' behind me and knew without looking my mentor had just performed a dramatic roll of his eyes. I didn't dare turn to look or else the smile I had on my face right now would probably earn me a few extra body slams when we got to the gym.

I leaned down over the table to look at a few of the ones on display in the back, and sighed. I stood back upright and brushed my hair from where it had fallen over my shoulder and smiled at the 'granny' who was presiding over this and smiled.

"It's so hard to decide." I said, whether she understood English or not. "They're all so beautiful." And they were. I swear if I were a rich man, I would have bought them all. Each one had a quality that the other did not and that had me thinking Grams would like the one, then the other. I probably would still be struggling for a choice when Mister Parker came to the rescue.

"Hey." He gave me a tap on the shoulder. "What about that one?"

He pointed at a small tree in a ceramic pot where another was one display. It was sculpted out of a pure, white wood and decorated in a simple and tasteful way with just a hint of colored oils. It was perfect.

"Yes." I nodded and pointed toward that one in particular. I didn't want to touch it myself. I had heard to just start grabbing these products was considered rude in Japan. The woman smiled and reached for it herself and once she had taken it down, she held it out to me. As I had it in my hands, I knew this would be the one my Grandmother would have selected for herself as well. I looked up and smiled. "How much?"

The old woman nodded and must have understood at least that much because she answered me with, "6216."

"How much!?" Mister Parker exclaimed and that got him another smack to the stomach.

I looked at him and had to smile as I said, "That's just $79." and I held it back to the woman with a nod. I reached for my wallet with my exchanged currency while she carefully wrapped the doll in sheer, white paper and laid it inside of a small box. She tied a string around it to keep the top on and handed it to me while I passed her the money.

"Are we ready now?" Mister Parker asked, emphasizing the word 'now'.

"Not yet." His wife answered before I could. "I saw another booth i want a peek at first."

"This is gonna be the death of me." Mister Parker jokingly (?) said as we followed her from the stall to the courtyard of the street. "We've spent all morning here and if ah drop over here an' now, yer only gonna have yerself to blame. Then how are you gonna feel?"

She didn't miss a beat when she answered, "I'm going to feel like I'm no longer shopping with a five year old."

Mister Parker watched with a frown as she moved across the street to another smattering of booths and stalls. He turned and pointed a forefinger at me and warned, "An' you jest wipe that smile offa yer face." before he started to follow his Ms. Angel. he paused when he realized I was not following and turned to ask, "You comin'?"

"Not yet." I answered. "I'm going to check something else out for myself. I'll just be a bit and I'll meet you right here in a few."

There we saw it! The rolling of the eyes!

I watched him head off and then turned around myself and walked along the street and passed many booths until I came to a small store in an equally small building on the corner of the street. I knew enough from my past tours here that this was an herbalist store that sold traditional Japanese herbs used for cooking as well as to heal varied ailments.

I had already bought an extra large bottle of Advil at the local store in front of the Parkers, claiming I was feeling under the weather and didn't want to take any chances of being ill before the actual show. But the truth was with my actual prescribed pain killers still at home, my back and shoulder were tightening up on me with alarming regularity. I suppose I could have brought the meds with me, but I was traveling with friends and didn't want to risk them seeing in case the screening personnel at the airports questioned me about the pills.

A couple of the men I worked with here in Japan around two or more years back swore to me these helped when brewed in a tea. So who was I to judge? I figured anything is worth a try when I was hoping to ease the burden of the pain I was in constantly.

"お困りですか。?" The older man behind the counter asked me the moment I stepped through the door and the small bell overhead had signaled he had a customer.

I sat my bags down by the door so as to soothe his suspicions in case he thought I might slip a little something extra in them without paying, and approached.

"ください。" I knew a little Japanese, but was afraid that it was incredibly rusty given I hadn't been here in well over a year. So to make matters simpler for the proprietor and myself, I had written down the herbs that I was looking for along with a Japanese translation (thanks google!) on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

He looked it over and read that I was asking for ginger, noni and ginkgo biloba. Each one used for treating pain of varying degrees. He looked at me with a toothless smile and nodded before he walked back to the rows of shelves he had at the back of the store with so many jars filled with different herbs that had been crushed into a fine powder. I watched as he selected the three that I had asked for and placed them on the counter and proceeded to measure small amounts into small, plastic bags. I would have thought he not giving me enough had I not been forewarned how potent these sort of herbs were when taken in their natural state. But the Chinese and Japanese had been using them for centuries so who was I to judge?

He placed the jars back where they belonged and then put my purchases in a brown, paper bag and held it out to me as I passed him the amount he had written on the bag. I only hoped these would do the job. I'd wait until the day of the show and my match against Bruce Evans before I took these so I'd be at running at full capacity.

I tucked this into my already bloated shopping bags and scooped them up before I headed back outside again. I just turned the corner of the building and walked back into the market when a heavily laden Mister Parker carrying all of his and his wife's shopping bags stalked toward me.

"There you are." He called out. "What the hell exactly did you need in this part of the square?"

I shrugged. "Tea herbs." I answered innocently enough. I mean, technically it was true.

---

"What exactly qualifies a person to label themselves a 'wrestler'? The use of this term is thrown around rather aimlessly these days, which is sad. When you think of a wrestler, or more precise, a professional wrestler, what do you think of? Me, I think of a man or woman who is a skilled athlete in the ring. Someone who can do more than drop a leg on their opponent or pick a smaller opponent up for a body slam. These days it seems that anybody can use the term 'pro wrestler' when describing themselves just because they possess the ability to step through a set of ring ropes. Can you swing a chair? Why, you must be a pro wrestler. (insert sarcasm here)

To me, a professional wrestler is just that. A wrestler -- in the literal sense of the word. Not someone who relies solely on size and strength to get by coupled with a clothesline and a legdrop. But more so someone who can spot a weakness in an opponent and wrestle them down to the mat and exploit said weakness. Someone who can work a certain body part until it's completely useless and then move on to the next, until the opponent is ready to hand in the proverbial towel and call it a night.

I've been asked who I think are the best wrestlers in the sport, past or present. Many of you might be disappointed in some of my answers but I can tell you who I do not think fits the bill. Men like John Cena and Batista for one. John Cena is charismatic beyond compare and strong as an ox, but as far as actual clinical wrestling ability? I'm sorry but I do not see it. Batista was big and strong, but that's it. His size made him intimidating and that alone is what he had going for him. Also, Ric Flair. Yes, the Nature Boy. As much of a legend as he is, it's hard to call a man a wrestler when he mainly seems to chop and kick, and every match is seemingly the same thing night after night.

As hard as it is for me to say this because I enjoy the ring style so, but aerial competitors don't fit the bill. To me, that style is acrobatics, not wrestling. I apologize, but it's true.

The best? Easy, Austin Parker. "Hot Stuff" Mark Ward. Dean Malenko. Bret the Hitman Hart. Lance Storm. If I might bring the ladies into this; Miss Linda and Susan Sexton, a woman bar none in technical expertise on the mat.

Notice how nowhere in the above did I mention Blaque Hart Bruce Evans?

Reason being he had shown me no reason to place him in the same category as the above men and women. And before he says so, no, he is not better than any of them.

Blaque Hart Bruce Evans likes to speak of himself in a vaunted sense of self worth, but when you get right down to it, he has shown very little aside from the fact he is capable of cheating to come out ahead of me in a match. Anybody can pull the tights or use the ropes to get a victory, which is exactly what Blaque Hart had to resort to in order to put my shoulders down on the canvas for the one-two-three. Any other time or place, he would have been defeated soundly, but no. Not that night, and not by any just means.

You can boast and brag all you like, Blaque Hart, but you can't ignore the fact that you had to hold onto my trunks to pin me. Well, you might be able to ignore it. You have thus far. All I've heard from you is how you beat me, but you never seem to be able to bring up just how[.i] you managed to do so. It's just as well. Everybody save for the official saw that little rule infraction, but it's about to be corrected.

Boast all you will, but I knew very well that a man with an ego the size of yours would never be able to pass up the chance to shine in the spotlight of a major Supercard like 'Violent Conduct'. And you can insult me as much as you feel the need, but the fact remains you continue to brag about beating me so there must have been something about me worth bragging about. You don't brag about manhandling a jobber in the ring, but when your opponent makes you bleed and sweat, then you can brag. And you've done more than enough for the both of us.

Even from before our match, I watched you and what you were capable of inside of the ring. I can admit it; you are a dangerous competitor -- but, I wouldn't exactly call you a wrestler. Now here you are and you've went and accepted my challenge to a match where there are no short cuts. You're going to be in front of several thousand people watching your every move and there won't be any excuses for when you end up flat on your back for the one-two-three. Or who knows? I have a few new tricks up my sleeve. There's always the option of tying you up in knots so tight that even the Boy Scouts wouldn't be able to figure them out and you'll have no other option but to cry 'Uncle'.

Either way, everyone here in Tokyo and watching the world over is going to find out you're the third best wrestler in the ring that match -- because even the referee could wrestle circles around you.

 Before anything else, I am sincerely hoping that we can refrain from any of the typical Indian in India jokes, if you would be so kind? For one, I'm not Indian. I'm Native American, and have been proud to be so since the day I was born.

I have to admit I was looking forward to this tour of Asia that Sin City Wrestling had embarked upon. I didn't get booked for Thailand last week, but that's okay. A couple of years ago, I had been booked on a one week, three show tour of the nation and the scenery was nothing short of breath taking. I would have enjoyed visiting again with a little more wiggle room for sigh seeing, but as I had been there once, I had no room for complaint. It gave me precious little time to spend at home with my family until it was time once again to take off overseas. With promises, of course, for presents for the ladies in my life for when I returned home.

However I had not been lucky enough as of yet to get to see India in person so I am both pleased and grateful to have gotten booked on this particular show. Blaque Hart Bruce Evans is a skilled competitor, bar none, and I believe he and I will give the fans a real treat once it's our time inside of the ring. The rest of the tour, both China as well as a potential return to Japan, are intriguing thoughts. But for now, I intend to enjoy India as much as possible.

I can't even begin to tell you all how much my sister and Grandmother pestered me to remind me to make certain to have enough batteries for my camera to take as many pictures as possible of these sights in India. New Delhi is one place both ladies can agree on that they wished to be able to see. So experiencing it vicariously through my camera would have to suffice. I know enough how much of a tourist I must resemble. No real sense in denying it. I might as well kick back and enjoy it until Sunday looms its ugly head.

The one good thing about these tour stops is there is only one show per week, which gives all of us who are working for the SCW plenty of time to enjoy the sights before each show should we be lucky enough to arrive early. Of course we have the obligatory fan meets and autograph signings, interviews and some of us with special TV appearances. Those are to be expected, and not something to be taken for granted. If we want to succeed and get our names out there, it won't happen by sitting in our hotel rooms or running our butts off, seeing the sights.

As Mister Ward and Mister Underwood both said before this tour first started; It's a working holiday.

I had to admit to myself a hint of surprise that many of these New Delhi fans of professional wrestling knew who I was. India doesn't exactly have the market of the sport, but news travels fast with the internet and television so the arrival of Sin City Wrestling was met with much excitement.

Today is the first day of my arrival, a Wednesday, and I had no chance to really get settled in or to see any sights. It was a pleasant room that I walked into at the hotel. Small, but comfortable. I didn't need much, really. I really didn't plan to be here any more than necessary. I wanted to make the most of my time here, so all I needed really was a place to sleep and refresh myself. Unfortunately I didn't even have time to do that.

No sooner did I set my bags down in my room than my hotel room phone rang. I crossed over and picked it up, and felt a curious frown on my brow as I answered, "Hello?"

"Blimey, Bo! I was wondering when the bloody hell you'd finally get your arse into town!"

Of course. Mister Ward. Even without the British slang I'd know the voice anywhere. I brushed my fingers back through my hair and could feel the grit. I needed a shower and a good wash after that plane ride.

"Well you didn't tell me I had to be here any sooner." I said, perhaps a bit more defensively than I probably should have. I guess being tired doesn't work too well for me. "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong. Well, `cept for the `tude." I could hear the humor in his voice but it didn't stop me from regretting how I spoke so quickly and frankly. "Someone needs a nap!"

"That would be nice." I said, admitting to both him and myself I was about ready to crash. "With any luck I'll be doing so after a quick shower here in a minute."

"Er... I know you'll hate me for saying this but that's going to have to wait, mate."

"Huh?"

Mister Ward elaborated on his end, "It's the reason why I'm calling."

"You mean besides to show concern for where I was?" I quipped. "You're as bad as my Grams."

"Careful ya smart arse." He replied with a laugh in his voice if not outright. "I got her number. bring her name into this and it's open season!"

"Oh fair enough." I protested humbly. "You win. But you cheat."

"I know." He admitted. "But that's why I win."

I set the hotel room's phone back on the bedside table and sat down, and almost immediately wished I hadn't. It was incredibly comfortable and made me wish I could just forget about the rest of the day and sleep sleep sleep. But it would appear duty called.

I asked, "So, what's up?"

He answered, "We have a bit of a meet and greet set up by the India Gate. It's a big deal and we could use one more to be there if you'd be so kind."

I groaned and said, "Playing on my good upbringing and manners is not playing fair, Mister Ward."

"Of course it's not." He said. "That's another reason why I win. Plus we set it up there so you guys and gals could get in the sight. It's a big deal for New Delhi, the India Gate. Bring your camera."

"Alright. What time?"

"I'll have a cab sent over within the hour. Time enough for you to get changed and prettied up."

"I think I'm pretty enough as it is."

"Alright, now enough's enough." Mister Ward laughed. "My ego must be rubbing off on you. See you then."

"Bye." I said as I hung the phone up and fell to my back on the bed and heard myself sighing with exhausted pleasure. I imagined that I could have said no or at the very least, asked for this day off because of this jet lag, but I never seemed to be able to do such a thing. It's all part of the job.

Slowly I sat up and started to unbutton my shirt so I could jump in the shower. It was time to get to work.

---

I wish that I had told Mister Ward that I would have found my own way over to the India Gate. On the way over in the cab I watched a trolley go by and I had an immediate desire to hop on the thing and just go wherever it might take me. Luckily I still had plenty of time after today to so just that. I have never ridden a trolley before, and one can never be too young to indulge in a whim. But I was here now and I had to admit I was pleased to not having passed this up.

The India Gate was a marvel to behold.



It is the national monument of the nation of India, and commemorates the 90,000 soldiers of the Indian Army who lost their lives while fighting in World War I and the Third Anglo-Afghan War. It is inspiring to say the very least, and I felt the perfect place for those of us in the SCW to meet the people of this proud country. As it turned out, the event was being held here as the sun started to go down in the sky and overhead we were blanketed in colorful hues while the stars started to peek out from overhead. The lawns of the great Gate were filled with fans who were lining up along the tables erected for the SCW stars in attendance.

I cast my eyes down the table during the beginning and recognized a good many men and women seated side by side, signing the pieces of paper and 8x10 photographs that were being handed out for free. The Seven Deadly Sins were there, as was Jordan Williams. Odette Ryder and the rest of the NXT team were gathered together. I even saw a few who were not booked to compete on this show, but were arranged to be here for promotional purposes -- the Party Girls for example. It just went to show how seriously SCW was taking this tour, to spend the money for their stars to appear for the fans even if they were not to be in the ring this coming Sunday.

"Bo Dreamwolf."

I looked up from signing a photograph passed to me and found a small family standing in front of me. A young mother and father and two even younger, small boys. The parents wore warm smiles on their faces but the two boys, whom I assumed to be their sons, seemed positively ready to fire off into orbit. They had that glistening light in their eyes, matching he bright smiles on their faces that I believe is one reason why many of us begin our foray into the wrestling business to begin with. It never gets old seeing children that excited to lay eyes on you and meet you face to face, as if you were some sort of living, breathing superhero.

"Hey there." I said, looking from one of the boys to the next. "How are you doing?"

I offered my hand over to them and both boys eagerly grasped it, one at a time and gave it a hearty shake. They looked to their parents and eagerly awaited with smiles as the dad asked me if I would mind standing with the boys for a photograph.

Oh Lord. As tired as I've been, I can only imagine I look like proverbial Hell for photographs, but it was not something I could outright deny. Well I could, but I wouldn't.

"Of course." I said and I stood up and slid through the small area between the tables until I was standing in front where the fans stood gathered. I placed my hands on both boys' s shoulders and gently guided them so that each was standing on one side of me. I slowly kneeled down between them and they put their small hands on my shoulders and waved to the camera their father was holding and I gave it a 'thumbs up' with a smile of my own.

Once the flash went off, both boys made this happy 'whooping' noise and ran to rejoin their father and mother who both thanked me profusely. I made certain they knew that no thanks were needed, and I proceeded to thank them. I held up a forefinger to give them pause and grabbed two of my 8x10's. I signed my name to both along with a little personal message for each boy and passed them over.

You'd think I had just handed them a handful of gold, the way their faces lit up. The father shook my hand and they moved down to the next superstar at my side. I made my way back behind the table and sat down as more fans lined up before me.

No, I never really got tired of this.

---

"I can't say that I am disappointed to find myself in the ring once again with Blaque Hart Bruce Evans. As anyone out there would know, this isn't the first time he and I have met inside of the ring. We have a bit of a past I guess you could say, and I am not ashamed to tell you that he is a competitor that I have come to respect inside of the ring. For all of his, I guess you could call say 'personality defects', he is a skilled wrestler and one of whom could dethrone any champion in the SCW. The only flaw he has, I guess you might say, is his ego of which he has quite a large one."

"I was proud when a wrestling newsletter spoke about our past match and gave it such a rave review. Four stars it rated us out of five. Quite an accomplishment when that same newsletter did not give some main event matches the very same. I could only imagine what Blaque Hart and myself would be capable of if there were championship gold on the line between us. But there's not. It's just him and me, and the only thing on the line is our win-loss records and pride."

"No gold on the line, but I can assure everyone that he and I both have the same in our sights. I can't speak for him, but I have never lost sight of the accomplishment that has thus far eluded me, and that's the SCW Heavyweight Championship. I have no excuses for my past trail of unsuccessful attempts at that title belt. The other men at the time were simply the better men. But I have to admit I grow tired of people who say that I have either lost the drive or desire to get what needs done, done. I have heard some say that I just am not trying as hard as I could."

"If that's what they want to believe, then fine. Let them. I know my desire for this business, and what I want to get done in it. I have sat back for long enough while others have stepped past me and taken something that I long to have around my own waist. If they want to believe that I'm not capable of getting the job done, or that my heart is not as into it as it once was, fine. I have no qualms at showing them just how very wrong they are."

"Blaque Hart Bruce Evans will simply be the first in a long line to learn this lesson the hard way."

 So much has happened over the past week that I have to admit that I'm having a pretty difficult time in processing it all.

Several years ago when I met Mister Parker for the very first time, he and I had a long talk about the business of professional wrestling and family, and how at times one will always tend to over shadow the other. He said that when you become a professional wrestler, and if you have family at home, be it siblings, a spouse and children, or like me, a grandmother, you will have to take a respite from being at their side in order to further advance your career. Initially I didn't understand the concept of for what sounded like literally abandoning your family, but as he explained it and I later came to understand, if this is your dream and you're using it to support that family, then there will be times when you have to step away from them in order to do what's needed to help provide for them.

I admit I scoffed, although not openly but I know Mister Parker knew what I was thinking. After all, he had thought the same thing when he first entered the business and when things really took off for him and he had to leave his home and family for weeks at a time. It was rough for him, he told me, but in the end if the bond was there, then their family would endure. And it has. Mister Parker and his wife have been married for nearly sixteen years. He told me once that he was one of the few wrestlers on the road who never 'indulged' himself with extracurricular activities, in other words -- ring rats. I believe him. Although they had tried with him and still do. I remember once with Mister Ward watching him reduce one adamant girl who wouldn't take no for an answer to tears in order for her to get the message; his family meant more to him than a cheap moment of company.

I thought I could do that and perhaps even better, still and always be there for my family. I might not have always succeeded with the company issue, but as far as my family I always made certain my grandmother was always watched after while I was on the road or touring a foreign country. Whether my sister would come to watch over her, our neighbor who is like family, or even the Parkers who would often have her stay at their home in Atlanta, she was watched over and taken care of. So in that degree I felt a bit of success.

A shame I realized too late that while I took all precautions to make certain she was cared for, there was another who was dear to me I am ashamed to say I perhaps overlooked. I know I've discussed the relationship between my sister Abigail and her husband, Darius, numerous times, so I'll try to avoid boring you with repeating myself. Needless to say, things were worse between them than I had imagined. I knew they argued quite a bit, but I never knew how much, or how vehemently.

Not until last week when Abigail called me from out of the blue to ask me to come to Oklahoma City to pick her up. She had left Darius.

You see, I always knew Darius had control issues when it came to all aspects of his life, especially when it concerned his wife -- my sister. He wanted her to be a house wife, to concentrate on being the mother of his children and to care for their home. Now please don't misunderstand me. Taking care of a home and children is work, believe me I understand that, but not going out into the world and holding a job simply wasn't my sister's style. But, she did it anyway because Darius asked her to and she loved him. She didn't see it for what it was; a manner for him to control her. She had little money to call her own save for the pitiful allowance he allotted her on a weekly basis and when he moved them from her family's side to Texas, I saw it as him removing our influence, mine most of all, from her. Darius knew in our family we would always stand by the other, and he did not want my grandmother nor I to be there to put any doubts into Abigail's ear as to her role with her husband.

I didn't let that stop me. I loved my sister and risked much to voice my opinion against her husband. Grandmother knew, as did Abigail herself, that I disliked Darius with a passion I can't ever recall feeling towards anyone. He systematically manipulated my sister into complete dependence on him, and I hated him for it. But still, my sister wanted to handle things her own way. She wanted to make this marriage work despite the negativity she endured on a ritual basis. She was just that kind of woman; strong and determined. She stood by Darius against any onslaught he suffered from me, and I only stopped when I believed it might risk the very bond she and I had since we were children being raised by our grandparents.

And then Darius made one fatal mistake in judgement; He decided to try and use his lawyer to have our Grandmother declared incompetent and thus nullify her signing the family house over to me. Darius was a greedy bastard who had a keen eye for money. He knew our house was prime real estate and he thought eventually he'd get his hands on it thanks to his family connections with Abigail. Oh I wish I could have been there to see the look on his face when she told her husband that Grandmother had signed the deed of the house over to me. Our grandmother had reached her eightieth year but her mind was as sharp as it ever had been, and she knew Darius for what he was. She could recognize the gleam of greed in his eyes whenever he paid us the rare visit with Abigail, and so she did the one thing she knew that would keep our family homestead out of his grasp. Our family attorney studied everything for days before he was satisfied there were no legal loopholes for Darius to use against us in a court of law, and it was done.

That's when he decided to fight dirty and try to accuse our Grandmother of senility and accuse me of using that fact against her for what eh referred to as my own "selfish purposes". What he didn't count on was my sister discovering this, and that one act being the final straw in their now fragile relationship. Abigail would not give me the details as of yet on what exactly happened. I just know she collected what money she had stashed away and what clothes she could carry, and she hopped on the first bus she could catch to get to Oklahoma, effectively leaving him and that piece of her life behind.

The fear she had to have been enduring when she made that final decision. The courage it took to move past that fear and do what she had to. The doubts my poor sister had to have been struggling with from the moment she stepped on that bus, until the moment she saw me at the bus station. I can not even begin to imagine the hellish turmoil she had to have experienced in those waking moments. I can only admire her for having been able to make it past the trial and not have turned back.

This is why I've been feeling guilt these past several days, ever since Abigail moved back in. I wish you could have seen our Grandmother's face when she saw her darling little girl was home again. No words needed to be said. Grandmother knew what was going on through life experience alone, and she welcomed Abigail home again with open arms. It's just our way. Darius tried calling -- repeatedly -- and each time with the same threat; come home or face divorce. None of the calls were returned. Abigail had made her choice.

All of this is why I felt overwhelming guilt still as I pulled my car into the drive way of our home and parked it. I keep thinking that if I had been home more, and had fought harder, my sister would not have had to go through any of this. Yet when I tried saying this she just gave me 'that look' and the subject had been dropped. Grandmother explained to me that we all had our own paths to make in life, and none of them would be entirely without thorns and road blocks. We had to stumble before we could walk. It didn't make me feel entirely better over everything, but it did help soothe the doubts somewhat.

I turned the engine of my car off and stepped out, shutting the drivers door behind me. I then walked around to the back of the car and opened the rear passenger's side and grabbed the two grocery-laden paper bags from the seat. I never understood why Grandmother always sent me to stock up on groceries so much. The pantries, fridge and our two freezers were stuffed to capacity. Nobody can ever say they've been to our home as a table guest and say they went home hungry. if they did, it was their own fault. Mister Parker and Mister Ward can attest to that. Now, with Abigail home again, Grandmother felt she had one more mouth to feed so that meant for trips to the store for me as opposed to the usual delivery that came once a week for her. Normally, she would accompany me to get out of the house. (I strongly suspect it was also she also liked to peek at the Enquirer and Weekly World News but she would never actually purchase those rags.) But she did not want to leave Abigail home, so I went alone with a list and God help me if I left something off.

Walking up the three steps to our front porch, I started to lower the bags to the wooden porch so I could open the door when it opened anyway, with my Grandmother standing there with that perpetual twinkle in her eye. Her arm stretched out to hold the door, she beckoned me inside with a wave of her free hand.

"Come on now." She said to me. "I don't want the cat getting out again."

"Maybe you should consider letting her out once in awhile." I said as I slipped past the doorway and she shut it behind me. "That's probably why that little thing is going wild in here and clawing at everything."

"Your pants leg does not qualify as 'everything' Bo." She almost cackled and reached for one of the bags but being the gentleman that I like to consider myself, I pulled the bags out of her reach and winked.

I said, "What kind of man would I be if I let a lovely lady such as yourself carry such a load?"

She just rolled her eyes and moved past me and headed for the kitchen, saying behind her, "Oh you are so full of it. Just like your Grandfather."

"Full of what?" I asked with a smile as I followed after her. "Charm? Grace? Stunning good looks?"

She stopped just long enough to turn and give me a funny look before setting foot in the kitchen. I entered after her and wasn't about to give this one up as I offered her another, "How about a butt you could bounce a quarter off of?"

"I'll have to ask that young lady we had drinks with about that one."

Okay, maybe I would give this one up.

I stopped and slowly set the groceries down onto the counter and Grandmother took one look at what I can only imagine being a face flushed deep red and she barked out in laughter.

She giggled like a school girl and said, "Oh I'm sorry, but you had that one coming!"

"If you say so."

"And I did." She smiled and walked around and she started reaching into the bags to remove the groceries and set them on the counter so she could begin putting them away. It would be of no use for me to offer to help, as she always turned me down. She wanted everything in just the right spot and this was her domain. It was her way or no way so I tried to stay clear of the kitchen as often as possible.

"Did you get the cookies?" She asked as she snooped in the second bag.

"I got them." I answered. "Both kinds."

"Both kinds?" She asked, looking up to me. "I just asked for the walnut milanos."

I nodded and nodded towards the bag. "They're in there. So are the oatmeal ones Abbey likes."

"Ah." No more needed be said.

We both knew Abigail would end up being a bit spoiled while she was going through this rough patch in her life, and deservedly so. She pulled the box of oatmeal cookies from the bag and handed it over to me and I went around the table to the cupboard where the dishes were kept and fished one out. As I tore the box open and tilted it so a number of cookies slid out onto the plate, I had to ask.

I looked up at my Grandmother and asked, "So, how is she?"

"Still in her room." She answered with a light sigh. "She doesn't seem to want to come down today."

I nodded. I knew all of this was weighing heavily on our Grandmother. She wanted to be there for Abigail just like she and Grandfather had always been, but this was one instance where she had to allow her grandchild to recover all on her own.

Of course, she'd have a little assist from her big brother.

After pouring a tall glass of cold milk, I moved around to the kitchen's entrance and said, "Let me go see what I can do."

"She might not let you in." Grandmother said. "She told me she just wanted to be alone."

I leaned back into the kitchen and smiled, "Well then she won't get the cookies then, will she?" And I left again, leaving a laughter behind me coming from the kitchen.

I walked upstairs and down the small hallway to the last of the two bed rooms. The other was mine, as Grandmother was getting on in years admittedly and she did not want to make the trip up and down those stairs every day so during her last visit, Abigail and I converted Grandfather's old den into a new bed room for her. I think we over did it on the pink decor but it is Grandmother's favorite color and that's all Abigail needed to know. I always felt my sister would make for an incredible interior decorator but go try telling her that.

I knocked on the bedroom door and said, "Open up! It's the police!"

I waited and didn't hear anything for a few seconds when Abigail said through the closed door, "Bo, I'd really like to just stay in bed. Please."

"I have cookies...." I called out in a sing song voice that I could only hope would annoy her enough to open the door just to shut me up. "Oatmeal coooookies....."

I waited again and again, several seconds passed. I was starting to imagine she had just rolled over and ignored me to go back to sleep when the latch on the door turned and it pulled open. I took one look at her and knew that my sister had spent a good portion of the night crying. Her hair was disheveled and she had not yet even changed from her bed clothes.

I asked, "Are you going to let me in?"

"Is that the only way I'm going to get the cookies?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

She huffed, her good humor shining through this dark cloud even at a time such as this, and she opened the door wider and i passed inside, handing the plate over to her. Abigail walked around and sat back on her bed, scooting back to rest against the head board. I took it upon myself to sit on the edge of her bed so I could be close to her.

At first I didn't say anything, and neither did she. We just let our company be enough for one another as I waited and watched her pick up a cookie and nibble at it in a silent form of contentment.

"Sometimes I wonder what it is that I did wrong."

I wasn't certain that I had heard her correctly. Actually, I wasn't certain I had heard her at all. The words just came from out of nowhere all of a sudden, it was only seeing her lips move with the words that convinced me she had actually spoken.

She continued, "I thought everything was going to be alright. That I could make everything alright." She took another bite and shook her head in self dismay. "I can't believe I was so stupid."

"Stop it." I said. I watched her head slowly droop and her eyes clenched shut tightly but not enough to stop the first stream of tears from escaping and slowly sliding down her cheek. I don't think I ever hated Darius more than that exact moment I saw that tear escape my sister's control.

I lifted my feet up onto her bed and slid back to sit beside her and wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder. I think that was actually what she had been waiting for because no sooner did I do so, than did she rest back against me, forgetting all about the cookies in front of her. She wanted to be held and to be reminded that she was still there. A person.

"None of this was your fault." I said as I felt her head rest down against my shoulder. "That's something you need to get through that thick skull of yours. You went out there and tried to make this succeed."

"And I failed."

I shook my head and said, "No, you didn't fail. He did. Darius is the one that pushed you away. He's the one that thought he could test you and your loyalty to your family. That's not a person that you can change, Abbey. It's a person you have to separate yourself from before his negativity drags you down as well."

She sniffed back, forcing herself not to let loose more tears just yet, and she asked, "Why did I marry him? Why did he have to do this?"

"You married him because you loved him." I said, telling her the truth. I then said, "As for why he did all of this ... who knows? Sometimes people change for the worse. From what you told me, him being an only child had his parents give him everything he ever wanted. He was never told 'no' in his childhood and when he became an adult, he expected that kind of treatment to carry over. He thought anyone and everyone should cater to his every whim and desire just because. When it didn't happen, he became a child again and acted out to make things happen his way. I guess you might say this is all his parents' fault. He didn't have the same upbringing that you and I did. Our grandparents took the time to teach us right from wrong and the meaning of the word 'no'. His parents just thought it would be easier to give in and let him always have his own way. They had no back bone in dealing with their own son."

"It almost sounds like you feel sorry for him." Abigail sniffed.

I scoffed and shook my head, "No, I don't think I could ever feel sorry for him after everything he's done to you and Grandmother. I just dearly wish you hadn't hit him because I would have loved to have done that myself."

Abigail said, "And he would have had you in jail that same night for doing so. Me, he won't do anything other than use that against me in the divorce proceedings." She slowly sat up and wiped her eyes before she went on, "I don't care though. Let him. He can have everything if it just gets me away from him."

"You would let him win so easily?" I asked.

"He lost me, Bo." Abigail smiled as best she could while wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. "That makes him the world's biggest loser."

"Touche'." I answered and leaned over to give her a lasting hug. Once we separated, I started to stand up and I said, "But try to come downstairs soon, okay? You have Grams worried sick."

"Tell her I'm fine."

"She needs to see it for herself." I said. "Plus, I need to take you shopping soon. We need to get you some things you can wear on the cruise."

"Bo..." Abigail started to say, her eyes closed again. "I thought we had settled this. I don't think I can go on this cruise, even if I was invited."

"Maybe that's exactly why you should go." I offered. "I finally got Grams to agree to go. It's going to do her a world of good, and it would do the same for you. Mister Ward was nice enough to send me a third ticket for you. You've never been on a cruise before so you might have a really good time. In fact, I know you will."

Abigail brushed that long, black hair from over her shoulder to behind her ear and she drew in a breath. I knew she was fighting with herself inside on whether or not she could or would go. I knew she wanted to go, but when people are in these kind of moods, it sometimes seemed as if they would sabotage themselves from doing things to help them to recover. They would deny themselves the chances to get up and get out to make themselves feel better. That was not something I was going to let her do to herself.

"Come on Abbey." I said, using my best annoying pleading voice. "Mister Ward will be very cross with me if I don't get you on that ship." This was quite possibly true as I knew he invited my sister for the main purpose so he could try to work those British charms on her. He and I would have to have a chat about that goal sometime. "Plus I'm going to need the cheering section when I have my match. You know how unpopular I am."

Abigail just rolled her head to the side and looked at me to say, "Oh give me a break."

"You give me one." I said with a smile. "You can't leave me alone on that ship with Grams. She'll be trying to fix me up with every available woman that crosses my path."

Abigail said, "Bo, I'll be trying to fix you up with every available woman that crosses your path! Especially that scary one that almost carried you off."

"Yes, but if it gets you on that ship I'll gladly endure it." I smiled as she looked at me and she shook her head.

She reached down and picked up the plate of cookies again and kept her eyes on it when she asked, "When does the ship leave?"

I could not help but smile. Success! I answered, "It leaves Saturday evening."

She picked up a cookie and sighed as she took a bite. She said, "I guess this means I can use this as an excuse to buy a few new clothes."

"And to make your big brother sit near the dressing room, holding your purse." I added.

She gave me that fiendish little smile and said, "That is a nice bonus, yes."

"So you'll come?"

She huffed and said, "You're not giving me much choice here. Though I strongly suspect you're also pressing this issue to keep any chances away of me going back to that lout while you two are gone."

I gave this thought a moment's pause and frowned, asking her, "Why? Was that something you were considering doing?"

She turned to me and said simply, "No. That's not something you had to worry about."

"Good." I said and I headed for the door. I pulled it open and turned to her to say, "Get dressed in your finest shopping clothes, m'lady. I'll take you to yonder Target to buy something pretty."

"Target!?" She exclaimed. "My I do feel quite the royal personage! And here i was worried you'd take me to K-Mart instead."

"Abbey, you wound me."

I smiled and headed out into the hall, shutting the door behind me. I took a moment to collect myself and feel as if this little hurdle passed had been done so successfully. I was not going to be happy until I had gotten my sister on that ship.

---

"It amazed me to look around and see the level that the SCW Heavyweight Championship has pushed the men in the six-pack challenge into. The SCW title belt is like the shining beacon, a star in the heavens that six men are standing on the top of the mountain, at its highest peak and stretching with their arms. Reaching, straining to touch that star and grasp it into their hands. It's a goal that's within their reach, but in the end that star will only fall into the grasp of one man. Only one man will answer to that final bell and he will be the man himself. The SCW Heavyweight Champion. I want to be that man. I will be that man. The others in this match have each said at one point or another that they will do the contrary because they deserve it more."

"How can they say such a thing? How can they actually stand there and tell their peers that their dreams mean more than the dreams of another? Its something that I personally don't understand. Everyone's dreams matter, gentlemen. Everyone's wishes and desires mean no more or no less than someone else's. It's not even about who's means more. It's about which of us is going to work the hardest to realize those dreams. Which of us will pull out all the stops to defeat five other men and walk away with the gold around their waist. Some of us will stoop to low levels more so than the others to walk away the top man of Sin City Wrestling. others will stick more to the rule book and fight as a man should, but still not yielding the match to the others willingly."

"I am going into this match with all the drive and ambition that the rest of you have. I have every bit the level of determination as Jordan Williams or Kain or the champion himself, Rage. I have the same fire and hunger of Nick Jones and Lucas Darby. Just because I don't spend the vast majority of my time trash talking my opponents doesn't mean I don't have the desire. Just because I show respect when it is due, doesn't mean I can't put aside the feeling of brotherhood I feel with some of these men. Just because I choose to abide by the rules of the jungle doesn't mean my style of competition isn't as intense or successful as someone who bends every rule in order to take the easy road to that light at the end of the tunnel."

"I don't need to talk trash or to cheat to show what kind of man I am. The simple fact that few of my opponents ever have much bad to say about me shows that I am doing something right. So you'll please understand if I choose to forgo the usual 'I'm going to kick your butt' content in this promo. It's all been said and done anyway. Why bother repeating it and just end up sounding like a broken record?"

"I appreciate it more than you can know when these men speak highly of me and what I've done or tried to do. I learned from my rookie years that respect from your peers was a difficult thing to attain in this business, and few truly managed to accomplish such a thing. I didn't set out to try and make people like me or to coerce them into respecting me for my actions. I simply acted as myself. I behaved like me, like my own person. I was lucky enough to walk through this path and the man I am is the one these men have spoken kind words for. In the end, it is something I am truly grateful for."

"But as I said before, that spirit of brotherhood and camaraderie will have to be put aside because when six men are put inside of the same ring to compete for the same lofty goal, it can only spell chaos. It'll be every man for himself and God only knows what will happen then. Personally I've never even heard of a six-pack challenge so I don't know if we fight until one by one, we each get eliminated, or if we simply go at it all at once like a triple threat or four corner match and the first man to get the pinfall is the champion. I notice the bosses like to keep things like this as a bit of surprise and that's fine, believe me. If Mister Parker taught me anything, it's how to adapt my style to any given circumstance. So, once we understand where we go from here, that's just what I'm going to do."

"Nick, we've had our past history, you and I. I was watching these situations going on between you and Jordan and I honestly thought maybe you were turning over a new leaf. I was hoping you were becoming a changed man. I don't know if the moment had overtaken you and that's why you attacked Jordan, or if it's the same spots on the same leopard, but I know well enough not to turn my back on you. Even if you were to be sincere in wanting to be an all new man, you are still a man of opportunity. If the chance to strike comes to you, you'll take it, whether the opponent's back is turned or not. Of that I have no doubt. The thing is, if you have turned for the worst, you played that hand far too early. The smart thing would have been to continue on with that little charade, and to have struck when it really counted; during the championship match itself. You didn't. You struck early, and let everyone know what could be expected out of you. That was a mistake you will come to regret Nick, and one that I intend to capitalize on."

"Kain, you are one of the ones whose words struck me as unexpected but I want you to understand that it makes them no less appreciated. respect is a two-way street, and you earned mine long ago. Maybe not the short cut and tactics you take, but certainly the talent you have and the skill in which you wield it. As a former world champion, you've already proven yourself to be every bit as capable of walking away a champion as the rest of us, but if you think i will bow down to any man, you are sadly mistaken. if you think i will fear you, then a piece of the respect I held for you just went out the window. I bow to no man, and I will fear nobody that believes it their God given right to be feared. your desires and glory mean no more and no less than my own. Like me, you are simply a man, Kain. One that can be beaten, just like anyone else. You won't like hearing this, but it is the simple truth; you are a mortal Kain, and any mortal has a weakness that can be exposed."

"I really haven't much to say right now toward or against Lucas Darby. he has such a golden opportunity and he hasn't even stepped out and shown himself as of yet. I know some people might have spoken out against his being placed in this match, so early into his SCW career, but i won't. he has shown himself to be a top tier competitor from the time he signed his first contract. He's rugged, skilled, and has every tool at hand to be a champion. But he's not going to accomplish that goal if he doesn't step it up and show himself to us, one and all."

"Now Jordan Williams is a man that little needs be said about because we pretty much already have said it. One look at him and you pretty much have seen it all. He's the veteran amongst us. he has more experience than the rest of us put together, I dare say, and believe me Jordan, I say that with the utmost of respect. I am in awe when I look back at your history in this business and all of the things that you've accomplished. We've met in the ring, but never one on one. It seems that something always comes between that experience, doesn't it? A tag team match here, a six-pack challenge there... it's always something. That's fine, I'm a patient man. I can wait. I know you're expecting to have the utmost advantage in this match because of everything that you've done over the course of your career, but you have five men in that ring who each have the same ideals and goals, and no level of experience is going to carry you past that hurdle. I strongly suspect that you have Nick Jones and Kain targeting your back, and I have every intention of engaging Rage in a rematch if you will. I have the training, you know this, and the experience is coming my way. Let the chips fall where they may, Jordan, but I strongly suspect they'll be falling over in my favor."

"And that leaves you Rage, you might say saving the best for last. And you are the best. As the Heavyweight champion, only a fool or a liar would be stubborn enough to refuse to admit that fact. That chance I had against you really made me realize just how hungry I was for that title around your waist. I wasn't able to put you away and score that win, but then again, you couldn't do the same with me, either. Did that do anything to your confidence level, I wonder? Could it be the first sign of cracks are starting to appear in the foundation of your reign? I mean, if you can't pin one of your challengers, what then will you do when you're facing five? If I know you, you'll plow through us hard and fast and your anger and energy will both erupt like an active volcano. See? I can't deny any of that. I was in there with you. I felt the stiffness and power behind each of your blows. You gave me the thrashing of a lifetime. I don't think I ever hurt like that before, and I sincerely hope i don't ever feel like that again. But the fact is, that match went to a draw. Neither of us won, but neither lost either. That makes this chance against you stand out for me all the more. I would rather face you one-on-one again, but I'll grab that brass ring whenever it's my time to reach for it. It's in my reach, Rage. It's my time."

"Each one of you will slowly come to accept that."

 "I have to admit that I was really beginning to lose patience. And hope."

"Last week I was asked by Mister Underwood and Mister Ward to make the trip from Tahlequah, Oklahoma to Malibu, California for that particular edition of Climax Control. I didn't know why. I didn't ask. There weren't really very many details being thrown around, but the business itself was unpredictable. I assumed that one of the talents had canceled or been unable to make it for any one of a hundred possible reasons, and they wanted me to substitute in a match. I figured, 'Sure. School was out for the summer so I'd love to get a regular schedule wrestling again in the time off from my 'day job.'"

"The trip itself wasn't easy. Over a fifteen hundred mile drive to get there. Why I didn't just invest in a plane ticket is beyond me. I guess I just wasn't thinking. My mind's been on a few other things, but that is neither here nor there. I finally get there and I'm told that I'm needed for promotional purposes for their upcoming Supercard, 'Summer XXXTreme'. Well, imagine my surprise that I drove almost two thousand miles to be told I didn't have a match."

"I was instead asked to appear before the show at the fans' usual meet and greet. That part I didn't mind. It's always a thrill for me to get to sign an autograph or have a fan ask for my picture. Oh and here's a little secret; don't ever ask for my picture, assuming yours won't get taken as well. I've learned the vast majority of fans who ask for a wrestler's picture want theirs taken with them, even if that's not what they asked for. So if I have to have my picture taken, then so do you! Play coy all you like but once I'm asked, my arm is going around your shoulder and that camera will be in the hands of someone else so smile and say 'cheese'!"

"Imagine my surprise, a pleasant one, when Mister Ward met me in the middle of the show and handed me my salary for my personal appearance. It was the same amount as I would have gotten had I competed. Not bad, but truth be told, I still would have preferred a match. Over the course of my career in Sin City Wrestling, I haven't been getting booked as much as I would have liked, but truth be told, part of that was my own doing. Family obligations and my career as a teacher got in the way but God bless them, Mister Ward and Mister Underwood always managed to work around that and get me booked when they could. I just admit that I wanted more."

"I really thought things were going to take off when this 'thing' with Nick Jones started. As the heavyweight champion, any feud against him would become an instant championship encounter. The only problem with that was, I wasn't the only person who was gunning for Nick. Since his arrival, he had made a fair few enemies and each one wanted what he held around his waist at the time. A number of wrestlers had that professional 'gold fever' and I was one of them. The fact that it was held by that loud mouth, egotistical jerk made the prospect all the more sweeter. I just couldn't seem to get at the front of the line for my opportunity to strip him of his most prized possession. I really wanted to get even with him for costing me the Roulette Championship."

"Now don't get me wrong. I was proud to be the Roulette Champion. Every championship is a great championship. It adds to your personal legacy in the business and keeps your status cemented. Nick took that away from me, so I wanted to return the favor and take away his own. proud as I was of the Roulette Championship, the heavyweight title was my real goal. I think it's that way for every wrestler to want to eventually hold the top prize, no matter what title they might currently be wearing around their waist. It's a lesson Mister Parker instilled in me from the very beginning;

Be proud of what you have in this business, but don't ever close your eyes to a higher goal."

"Words to live by. Then the unexpected happened. Rage got a second chance at Nick one-on-one and lo and behold, we found ourselves with a brand new Heavyweight Champion. Don't misunderstand me. I'm happy for Rage. He busted his butt for that win and earned it. But when that happened, I thought my own chances of a title shot flew right out the window. Everything that had been building between Nick Jones and myself no longer held any meaning in regards to a title match between us. if we met again, it would end up being a singles match and nothing more. Those big one-on-one matches are great, trust me. You always learn from them and getting the best of Nick in a normal encounter would be fun, but I was starting to really feel those 'hunger pangs' hit me. I wanted the championship. I wanted Nick's championship, and that desire was really no longer valid."

"So there I sat backstage at the Firestone Fieldhouse when all hell started to break loose in the ring. The tag team match between Lucas Darby and Kain against Nick and Jordan Williams went south and all the guys were fighting. The referee couldn't stop it so out i went, hoping to lend a hand. I got into it with Kain, then I got a shot from Lucas. Before you know it, the champ himself, Rage was out and they might as well had paid me to wrestle because I sure was in a battle royal, albeit an unofficial one. That's when the bosses stepped out and surprised us all, announcing that the six of us would be competing in a single match for the very championship I had been wanting a crack at in a few weeks."

"Okay, so it wasn't a singles match, a one-on-one. It was still a chance at the top title and I was going to take it and do everything in my ability to beat those five men and walk away with the gold. Oh but then it got even sweeter. The bosses wanted to hype things up so they decided to have Rage put his title on the line, and who should be the lucky recipient of title opportunity one, but yours truly. I smiled. I guess I was thinking too fast at what I wasn't going to get, because before I knew... I had it!"

"So now I'm going to be heading for San Francisco, and I am going to take destiny by the horns and make the most of this chance."

---

"Bo?"

I felt the gentle tap on my bare shoulder and I about jumped out of my skin. I had become so engaged in my thought process about this match with Rage that I didn't even hear my grandmother come outside, let alone approach me from behind. That is until it was a bit too late and I gifted her with a god natured laugh at her grandson's expense.

I turned around to face her, a bit wide-eyed and her eyes danced with the merriment she had now so enjoyed for making me start unintentionally. She clucked her tongue and shook her head at me, the smile never disappearing from her face.

She said, "Well, I didn't mean to scare you but a little fright is always good for you. gets the heart pumping and makes you realize you're still going."

"Yeah," I mused, looking back at the soft dirt my hand was half buried in. "It won't make my dry cleaner any happier though."

My grandmother had a very pretty little garden that she enjoyed taking care of. We lived in a wonderful little neighborhood and our house was modest but never without it's comforts. The garden outside in front my her crowning glory. I can't even name half the flowers she had growing in it, save for a few roses, lilacs and orchids but I knew there were plenty of others. It was my Grandmother who excelled at growing flowers and caring for them. She'd been doing it all her life and had even won a few awards at local shows. She always had a green thumb. Me? My thumb was a bit closer to a shade of black by comparison. Still, her garden needed some tending today and it was in the triple digits so I had her stay inside in the air conditioning while I watered the weeds and trimmed the flowers -- or something like that. So long as I promised not to massacre her arrangements.

I slipped the two rose stems I had accidentally clipped with a couple of weds out of her sight and behind my shoe and looked up.

"So, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure?" I asked. "I thought you were watching your shows."

"I came to check on you." She answered and made a wayward gesture towards me. "And good thing I did too. You've been out here a bit too long."

I could not help but smile. "Why? Could you smell me all the way from inside the house?"

"No." She met my quip with her own sharp witted answer. "I couldn't smell you until I set foot out the door. But I have eyes, Bo. You're starting to burn."

I frowned and glanced down at my shoulders and lo and behold, my tan skin was starting to show the signs of turning a healthy shade on many pink! I thought I had dressed smart enough for a bit of yard work. Muscle shirt, shorts, but I guess showing too much skin in this heat wasn't my brightest move. I sighed and stood up carefully. Two times this week Grandmother had almost caught me take a mis-step and I almost gave away my physical conditioning, a secret I held close so as not to worry or disappoint her.

I pulled my gloves off and used my bare hands to brush my shorts off and I followed her up the three steps that led to our porch and was about to step inside after her when she turned just enough to gift me with a stare through the screen door. She glanced 'down' and my eyes followed and I knew when to admit defeat. I reached down and pulled off my sneakers so as not to leave any remnants of my foray into her garden on her clean floors.

My house, perhaps legally. But it would always in heart be her home. I just happen to be lucky enough to be allowed to live there with her, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

We had just stepped inside when the phone started ringing.

"You get that, Bo." Grandmother said. "It's probably for you. I'll get the lemonade for you to cool off."

I turned the corner and walked into the living room where the phone's main line was. I took a seat down onto the chair that was my Grandfather's and was my favorite because of that sole reason. I leaned back and picked the phone up and held it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Bo." It was Mister Parker. "I got some news for you."

"Shoot."

"Bang." He chided me in jest. "Ah jest got off the phone with Mark. It's all set. Your tickets will be sent for you for the cruise liner. Did you manage to get your gramma to agree?"

I cast a glance back towards the kitchen and heard her opening up the fridge. "No." I answered. "I'm trying. I think it'll do her a world of good to be out in all that fresh sea air but she keeps telling me she's too old for that."

"Hm, pity." he said. "Well, keep tryin'. Oh and Mark told me to make sure you knew there was a third ticket bein' sent in the package."

"Third?" I frowned, not understanding. "Who else does he expect me to bring? My Grandmother's cat?"

"No." I could hear the amusement in his voice and it all became clear. "But ah think he's hopin' you might bring yer sister with ya too."

"Oh Christ." I muttered and heard him start to laugh. "Doesn't he understand my sister is a married woman?"

Mister Parker replied, "In all the years that you've known Mark, when has a wedding band really kept him from takin' an interest in a pretty woman?"

I sighed. "For that reason alone I shouldn't mention this invitation to her. She has enough on her shoulders as it is."

"Well, think about askin' her anyway." he said. "It'll keep Mark off muh back if you do an then we'll all be happier."

I glanced up as my Grandmother entered the front room and handed me a glass of her homemade raspberry lemonade. I took a drink and she asked me,

"Is that Mister Parker?"

"Sure is." I answered.

She leaned in to the phone and called out, "I'm not going and that's final!"

I lost it, and on the other end, I could hear Mister Parker laughing uproariously himself.

She says that now, but I don't think she's heard quite the last of this little debate.

---

"Well Rage, I can't even begin to express how much I'm looking forward to this match against you. I haven't had an opportunity to set foot in the ring against any member of your stable to date, but I assure you that I've kept aware of the Seven Deadly Sins. Only a fool wouldn't. The whole lot of you have made an impact in the SCW. It's not every often we see a stable these days that is as dominant as you are to the point each member has a shiny gold belt wrapped around their waist. heck! Even that teddy bear companion of Despayre's has one."

("Is James Huntington-Hawkes III ever going to get that Universal title back?")

"You waited a long time, Rage. longer than even me, I believe. A lot of people were starting to wonder if anyone would be capable of stripping that title from Nick. Some believed Jordan Williams would be the man to do it. Alas, he fell just a hair short. I'm certain that you're well aware of the history between Nick and myself, so I hope you take no offense to the fact that at the time I had hoped it would be Nick I was facing in a championship match. Still, you proved yourself the man. A worthy man capable of doing what so many others had failed to do. Now you're the champion, and I finally have that shot I had been wanting since i signed on the dotted line."

"I remember being a champion, Rage. Not just here but a few years ago in the Global Championship Wrestling organization. I had won the GPW Intercontinental championship, second only to their world heavyweight title. I was beyond excited because I was still in my rookie year and to win such a prestigious title so soon? I knew that the challengers would be lining up, and perhaps down the road this win would catapult me into contention for the big one. Unfortunately destiny didn't play to my favor and the GPW ceased operations before I could even make my first title defense. A bit of a bitter pill to swallow but things don't always work out the way we hope they do, do they?"

"So trust me when I say out of all the Sins, you're perhaps the one that I am most well aware of. You've been around longer than Gabriel or Despayre. Almost as long as Synn himself. I've watched you since your days in Generation-X Wrestling, on TV and recording. That's the beauty of having a wrestling scholar as your friend, mentor and manager. Mister Parker has a slew of your matches just waiting to be seen and studied, all the better to watch and to learn."

"I think I can go on record and say that you're probably, to date, the largest man that I've ever found myself up against. certainly the meanest and angriest (no offense!). So I know I have to be at my best when that bell sounds and you come charging. I am expecting nothing short of a full blown mauling by your hands. And I will brook nothing less. If I was the champion, I'd give any challenger the hardest fight of my career to keep them from taking what was mine, and I expect nothing less from you. I've seen the hurt you've put on just about every man you've stared down from your corner. It's why you're the top man in this company today, and why I imagine it'll be no easy task to secure a win of any kind against you. But am I up for the task?"

"Oh yes."

"You see Rage, as hard as you bring it to me to retain your championship, that's just as hard as I'll be taking it to you to strip it away. I don't presume to think of myself on equal standing when it comes to the ability to exchange fisticuffs with you. I'm not that foolish! I've seen other men try the same and walk away battered, bloodied, and beaten. I will not be that man. I'm not a fighter, rage. I am not a brawler. I was trained for this business to be what I am; a wrestler. I believe that's where I hold the advantage over you. You're bigger than I am. Stronger and just plain angrier. I see that works for you. The anger is as fuel to a fire. the trick is knowing when not to get burned."

"I won't be like so many others. I won't stand here and tell you in detail what I intend to do. For one, it's foolish to explain to your opponent just how you intend to take them down, because then they'll know what to expect and have a counter for it. And two, as I was taught -- strategies do not always go according to plan. You can look for weak spots and where your opponent lacks and think to yourself, 'Hey, that's where I'll target him and the rest will be history!' I've had some opponents think the same of me but they always fail to understand one key thing about any ring strategy; your opponent simply has other ideas in how they think the match will go. They have other ideas that conflict with your own and then where are you? It's time to improvise what's going to go down in that ring and Rage, it's not going to be me."

"I waited a long time to get a chance at the top prize in Sin City Wrestling. I've waited a long time to get the top prize in any promotion, be it world or regional. I know when and where to make the most of the opportunities passed down to me, and Rage?"

"This opportunity will be golden."

 Tuesday, May 1st, 2012

The Tulsa International Airport wasn't as busy as I would have suspected as I stepped off of the rampway and found myself weaving in between the people who were standing in line, waiting to board themselves. I imagine if I had really given it any thought, I shouldn't be too surprised. I guess more people travel during the weekend than the start of the week.

I paused only long enough to buy myself a Coke from a small vendor and I then made my way through the confines of the airport to retrieve my luggage and meet my sister who was picking me up. 'This day is going to be a long one.' I kept the private thought to myself as I stepped onto the escalator that would bring me down to the baggage area. I knew it to be true as it was almost noon, and I wouldn't get home until well into the afternoon. Then I had to make certain too contact the school officials to let them know I was back and would be in for classes again starting tomorrow. I needed to check in with Mister Parker and let him know i arrived safely, and see what he knew anything about the bookings over the course of the next few shows. I'd need to let the school officials know who were always gracious enough to work around my wrestling schedule. I imagine the substitute teachers in their employ were grateful as well. And of course, I would have to take care of any odd chores of my own and of course, my Grandmother would probably need a few things done as well if Abigail hadn't already taken care of any loose ends.

Then there would be a quick trip to the pharmacy at our local grocer. That I would not be able to put off if I intended to be able to move at all in the morning. This tour of Europe, while fun and informative, had been nothing short of a living Hell on my personal welfare. When my prescriptions got confiscated right here in this very airport, I was left to fend for myself throughout most of the time in Paris and London and elsewhere. As much as I felt my body was being racked with nagging pains, may the people at Tylenol forgive me but their products simply don't do the job when one is used to the blissful effects of a light morphine. The over-the-counter medicines helped somewhat, but not enough. Not when I was spending my time being tossed across a ring and dropped at a height of ten plus feet. It was a wonder I was even able to get out of the ring and head for the back. I think I spent more time under the hot showers than the rest of the roster combined. That and the rare occasion of a shot of Jack helped get me through another night. I didn't want that particular dependency to continue though.

On a side note, I really wish they would have put signs over the locker room doors. That rather buxom Bombshell, Brandi Shotze, 'accidentally' wandered into my shower. That was certainly an awkward moment.

I liked this airport. I arrived at the base of the escalator and it opened right into the lobby where the baggage carousels were for the many flights. I checked my ticket for the carousel number where my bags could be retrieved and headed over when a movement and familiar face caught my eye. I turned my head to spot my sister standing by the correct locale I was headed for and she was curiously bobbing a bright, neon green balloon in her hand with a smile on her face.

I frowned briefly, despite the amusement I felt inside and turned to approach her. Once I got close enough, she threw her arms around me and welcomed me with the loving embrace only family can understand.

"Oh, it is about time!" Abigail stated as we parted and she gave me a playful huff of feigned exasperation. "Your flight was due almost forty minutes ago."

"You'll have to forgive me." I replied casually with a feign of indifference in my tone. "The next time I decide to have a flight delayed due to weather, I'll make certain to check with you personally to see if it's convenient."

"See that you do Rain God." She replied without missing a beat as she slid her arm within my own and personally escorted me towards the carousel that held my flight's bags and such. My curiosity would not be contained much longer so I simply had to ask;

"What's with the balloon, anyway? Going through your second childhood finally?"

She raised her eyebrows and shot me a haughty look without deigning to turn her head to look at me directly and she shrugged, "I wasn't sure how crowded it would get in here so I wanted to make sure you saw me."

"By playing with a neon balloon?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Touche'!" She smiled, satisfied that she had won out on this particular sibling debate and passed the balloon from her hand to my own. I looked at it and said, "Well, at least I can't say that you never gave me anything."

"Yeah, wait until grams sees you with that." She smirked, pursing her lips tightly.

That little tidbit caught my attention and caused me to 'accidentally' let the balloon slip from my grasp and go floating up to wherever balloons go to pass on. I said, "Grams? You brought her with you?"

"Mm hm." Abigail murmured through her lips as we arrived at the baggage carousel and waited for my bags to arrive. "She was tired of being in the house and wanted to go with me for the drive."

I raised a brow and looked at her over my own shoulder, "Aren't you the one who chewed me a new one for taking her on these little road trips?"

Abigail shrugged noncommittally and said, "Yes, well, that was before I was aware of her little secret weapon to get youngsters like us to do what she wants us to."

"Grandma Guilt?"

"Grandma Guilt." She confirmed as my bags appeared around the bend and I grabbed at two of them while Abigail, went for the third.

I hefted them up and turned to her with a smile as she set the baggage cart down and proceeded to give it a pull. Figures my wise sister would be the one to get the bags that didn't need to be carried. She glanced up at me to meet my eyes and I shook my head, "There's no defense for that tactic."

"Please don't remind me." She answered with a rather phony sense of annoyance and she led me over to a waiting area with seats where I spotted that fabulous lady who had a small book on her lap and she glanced up.

I never could tire of that shine in her eyes when she spots me showing up. There's nothing quite like the love of a grandma. I set my bags down and walked the extra few steps to gather my grandmother in my arms and she returned the embrace as fiercely as she was able.

I let loose the hug and my grams smiled like a girl quite a few years her junior and asked, "What did you bring me?"

I frowned and held my arms outward, "What? No 'hello dear grandson'?"

"Hello dear grandson." She smiled and looked at my bags and pointed at them. "What did you bring me?"

A brief bark of laughter managed to escape me and I turned around to look at my sister. I jetted a thumb back toward the older woman and asked, "Can you believe her?"

"Don't expect me to come to your defense." Abigail said, shaking her head. "I better be seeing a little something for your baby sister too."

"Wow." I said and I walked over to my 'baby sister' and relieved her of the baggage and hefted it towards me. "What chance does a man have when his sister teams up against him with his grandmother?"

"None at all." Was the answer I got from Abigail as I dropped down to one knee and winced. I tried to hide it but I was facing my sister and i could almost bet that she noticed. Yet if she did, she said nothing to alert my grams. The two little beggars moved in to hover closer as I unzipped the baggage and said aloud, "You'd think my safe return would be enough to satisfy you two."

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Abigail chirped as I fished out a brown box adorned in a golden ribbon and handed it to her. I then gave a violet box over to my grandmother  and hefted myself up to a vertical position and watched as these two acted the parts of 'little girls' and they practically tore off the ribbon and opened the boxes.

"Chocolates?" Abigail said with a smile. The box was filled with truffles of varied flavors; everything from champagne to key lime.

I nodded, "From Paris."

"Oh my." I heard the murmur from my grandmother as she held out the beautiful scarf I had picked up in Holland. It was a blend of several shades of purple in both light and dark hues in a floral pattern. Abigail walked over to her and took the silk accessory and draped it around our grandmother's neck and arranged it so that the tie dangled over her shoulder. She looked up at me as her fingertips draped along the soft garment and she said, "Oh it's lovely."

"I got it in Holland." I nodded. "It was so beautiful I immediately thought of you."

My grandmother rolled her eyes which caused both me and my sister to chuckle. Abigail promptly turned to me and smiled sweetly before she said, "And I suppose the chocolates reminded you of me because your sister is so sweet?"

I shrugged and replied with a simple, "Okay." and was promptly rewarded with a cuff to the arm by my so-called 'sweet sister'.

"Just for that..." She said taking one of the candies from the box for herself and holding the box over to our grandmother to pick one. "You get no chocolate."

I replied, "Big threat considering I bought enough for myself as well." I nodded toward one of the bags and said, "There's more but they can wait until we get home and I... what are you doing?" Referring to Abigail who was now on the tips of her toes and looking into my ear with one eye closed.

"Checking for any traces of dried mud." Came the short and terse response.

I exhaled and looked to our Grandmother who shook her head and said, "She's been waiting to make some joke like that since we saw your match."

I shifted my gaze to my sister and narrowed my eyes at her. I said in an accusing tone, "You recorded that blasted mud match, didn't  you?"

Abigail gave me her best 'Who, me?' face and I responded as only I would be able with some opposition.  I picked up my cast aside baggage and headed for the exits.

I was no fool.

"Looking back to the simpler things serves it's purpose, if you take the time to think about it. When life hands you some bitter disappointments, you like to believe that you can count your blessings to make what's bad seem not so much so."

"I thought that I was on top of the world when I went into Europe as the Roulette Champion. I believed if I could just make it past the next few weeks, I'd return to Oklahoma as the champion still, and possibly move up in the rankings for a Heavyweight Championship encounter. That all went to pot the moment they booked me in that 'Clash of the Champions' tag team match with the SCW Champion, Nick Jones, as my partner."

"Mister Ward has told me so many stories about this man and the small war of practical jokes they carried against each other, that I had a difficult time believing that any of it was possible. I mean, I admit I never understood why you'd want to even bother with such immature actions against a person who in effect, you would be working with for the foreseeable future. I heard everything from Nick picking Mister Parker's pocket to pay some outlandish hotel bill, to a bit of payback where Nick ended up at some gay leather bar surrounded by some rather intimidating men. And back then I don't think Nick had his Entourage around to protect him from exploring hands by those fetish enthusiasts. It just all sounded so ridiculous that I couldn't believe it -- until I myself ended up with Nick both as a tag team partner as well as an antagonist."

"I know you all are familiar with what went down, if you'll pardon my pun, in Europe. As far as the jokes I mean. So there's really no need to go into further detail. That's for my own sake as well because I don't think I will ever get over the humiliation of being stripped naked by two transvestite prostitutes and come that close to being molested in ways I wouldn't want to explore with the female of the species -- well, maybe. All these incidents between us proved to me only one thing when it came to the Champion. And that's the fact that Nick Jones is perhaps the most spoiled, immature child that is on the SCW roster. True, so many people refer to Despayre as a child in a man's body, or James Huntington-Hawked III as a spoiled 'brat prince', but to me Nick has each one beat."

"Of course that could be because I haven't really dealt with either Despayre or the rich kid before."

"Nick has it in his head that being who he is, champion or otherwise, he should be able to do whatever he wants, whenever he wants, to whomever he wants -- without the fear of reprisal. He thinks his jokes and actions are funny, and nobody has the right to get upset or deal him a little payback. That's because then it's no longer funny -- to him. That's all I did after all. Just a little payback, but not much. I nearly get gang banged and I was painted blue, so compared to that, getting tossed out onto the streets of Berlin buck naked isn't nearly so bad, is it?"

"Well, Nick certainly thought so and his actions proved that he's not man enough to endure a taste of his own medicine. Our trading insults and jokes wasn't enough for him. Not by a long shot. He had to up the stakes in London when he cost me the Roulette championship and prevented me from returning home with gold around my waist to make my family proud. I think deep down he knew what he was doing in that regard, and even if he didn't, the damage was clear. I think Nick thought that would be the end of it. That costing me my match against Kennedy would be the end of what was going on between us. He probably believed that there wasn't much else that I could do after that. But oh how wrong I want to prove him to being."

"I'm more than willing to bet that he didn't think I'd go to Mister Ward and ask for a match against him. Any match, so long as it allowed me to get my hands on that smug jackass. Nick doesn't have to pretend any longer. I know he called Mister Parker whining and complaining about what I did and what he needed to do to get me under control. You know what Mister Parker told me, Nick? He just told me to get out there and prove to you that you're not as invulnerable as you like to think yourself to being. Anybody's shoulders are capable of being pinned to the mat, including that of a champion's. Including your own. But when we finally get into the ring with each other, I'm not going to be trying to put your shoulders down for the three count, Nick. I don't think I'll be quite satisfied until I tie you up into so many knots you'll find yourself tapping out to the tune of your own theme music. Hearing you squeal in pain and telling the referee you give up will be sweet, sweet music to my ears, and it'll vindicate everything that has happened in the shared past of Mister Parker and myself."

"When you cost me the Roulette title, you proved an old adage to be true; that every champion has one thing in common, and that they will all one day be a former champion. Personally Nick, I would love to be the man that unseats you from that lofty throne that you've put yourself on. I've never held the top singles championship of any promotion I've worked for, and doing it at your expense and seeing the smug look melt off that kisser of yours will be all the reward I need. You started something Nick, so I want you to sit back, relax, and wait for the inevitable. Because I intend to finish it."

"I knew the moment my tag team partners were announced that the win would be in the proverbial bag. You just don't get any more dominant than the combination of Gabriel and Despayre. These two have never tasted defeat in tag team competition, and this will not be the first blemish on an otherwise spotless record. They wouldn't be holding the Tag titles if they didn't know how to work as a team, and now I have to enter somewhat unfamiliar territory as I find myself in their 'sinful' midst. Plus it has more to do than just with their quality work inside of the ring. It also has to do with the mentality of who you're dealing with when you're facing Sinful Obsession."

"Despayre's reckless antics make it almost impossible to prepare any strategy in the ring against him. I should know. On a hunch I tried coming up with something if the time ever came I would find myself facing him and Gabriel. I got nothing. I spoke to Mister Parker and he told me with an opponent like that, all you can do is play it by ear and try to ground him. And as far as Gabriel goes? The distinction of being the first SCW Heavyweight Champion speaks all that need be said. I say with no doubt that if a rather tainted backstage deal had never taken place, Gabriel would still be the champion -- and you wouldn't Nick. So I admit to looking forward to what will be happening in the ring when the former champion faces the current."

"That brings me back to Nick. Don't think I haven't noticed how this man acts whenever Despayre is anywhere near him. Anger. resentment. perhaps a tinge of fear mixed in that mind of yours, Nick? Well, don't you worry. I want to occupy as much of your ring time as possible in our six man tag, but I won't be selfish. I know how much you look forward to spending some quality time with your friend, Despayre. I'm sure I can sacrifice a little time for him to play with you."

"Which brings me to the other two members of Nick's team, and that's Bobby Cage and Johnny Brown. Now see, I thought that since Nick and I would be on opposing teams, then the two men on Nick's team  would be a pairing that might soon be facing the Sins for the tag gold. If that's true, I can't think of a more unlikely combination to challenge Gabriel and Despayre than Cage and Brown. And even if it isn't, I am more than familiar with at least one of these two guys."

"The True Brit has already opened his mouth and promptly stuck his foot in it. He can talk all the trash he wants, make all the Indian taunts and jokes that he thinks will turn an ear to his direction, but it'll all be for naught when the bell rings because there's a big difference between Johnny and myself. I've been a champion. He hasn't. I'll be a champion again, and before he even gets his first taste of SCW gold. He has got a pretty solid win/loss record, that I can't deny. But he hasn't exactly been in there at a main event level by his own admission. And it's not the fault of the staff of SCW, either. It's quite simply because he hasn't earned it yet. So let him run his mouth all he wants. Let everyone in Sparks, Nevada sit back and watch the big man choke on everything he spewed. All it'll get is a smile of satisfaction from me. Johnny, the only end result of all this bravado on your end will be you being tossed right out of the main event picture because you proved that you just were not ready."

"Bobby Cage on the other hand, has seen action in the upper echelon of the shows in Sin City Wrestling. He's had chances and even if he hasn't been able to grasp that brass ring, the time will come. His time will come. I know because I've been in the ring with him at least once or twice and the man has one of the roughest, stiffest styles I've ever had to try to adapt to. I'm man enough to admit that I can't go in there with the Convict and expect to trade fisticuffs with him and come out on top. If I tried, he'd most likely hit me with enough shots that my head would be spinning faster than Linda Blair's in the Exorcist. So it's all going to come down to an age old debate of who is the better athlete ... a boxer versus a wrestler. There have been a number of times in history when these two sports have met, and a boxer stepped into a match officially against a wrestler. And more often than not, it was the wrestler who walked away with his held high. Because if a boxer can't stand, and can't have the use of his arms, then he's useless in a fight. This time won't be any different, Bobby. Unlike your two partners, you do have my respect. I would certainly be willing to shake your hand, but during the match? It's all business. I'm not letting anything come between me and putting my foot up the backside of your partner, the Heavyweight Champion."

May 16, 2002

I watched as the last of the students filed out of my class room with their bags and books. I took a small degree of amusement from their grumbling at the stack of homework I had assigned because I knew that years ago, I was one of those complaining students. It's funny how time changes these things. How I used to hate the mere aspect of homework itself, only to find myself discovering the wisdom behind it when I discovered my hidden desire to be a teacher and set out on the path to achieve it.

There was an after school function that I had to get ready for, a spaghetti dinner to help raise funds for our school choir to make a trip to the regional competitions. A lofty goal my family and I heartily would endorse. My sister was planning to come to this 'feast' and bring our grandmother along. I imagine too both get her out of the house as well as keep either of them from having to make dinner tonight. The worthy cause was just icing on the cake.

But I picked up my phone to see if I had any calls. I saw that there was just the one, from Abigail. Her husband, Darius, had went to New York on some business trip with his banking associates. I strongly suspected that was just a  ruse to get a paid vacation from their employers and time away from the so-called nagging wives. Abigail could have went along but she told me herself she'd sooner dance naked with our mailman than hang out with a bunch of boring bank accountants -- and that included her own husband.

Have I ever said how much I loved my sister?

She surprised me even more so when she announced that she and my grandmother would be accompanying me on my trip to Nevada for the next Sin City Wrestling show. Now I have to confess that Abigail said she quite honestly detests professional wrestling. She finds it barbaric, but she also supports her big brother and wants to cheer him on at least once before the drag aka her husband, gets home and whisks her back home to Texas.

I clicked onto my phone to check my messages, thinking all the while she also had some hidden agenda to wanting to tag along. Most likely it has something to do with the not-so-hidden amusement she got at my expense with the wanton attentions I seem to have earned from an SCW co-worker in Brandi Shotze. She also said she wants to meet some of my wrestling friends. Mister Parker I can understand. I almost shudder to think of her meeting Mister Ward.

The message played, and my sister's voice piped up, "Bo, I just wanted to remind you that Grams and I would be there around half past three. I know the dinner doesn't start until four or so but I thought it would give Grams a chance to rest while I can help you and the other school staff set things up. Bye."

The call ended and the timing was perfect as I heard a rap on the classroom window. I looked up to see the two smiling faces of my beloved family looking in on me and waving. I couldn't help but laugh as I beckoned them inside from the Oklahoma heat outside. They turned and vanished towards the school entrance and I started to pack up the papers on my desk into my briefcase with a light heart.

Family really was everything.