[GKD]

“Godly” Ken Davison has returned to his roots. Situated in his church, the refurbished St. Anne’s Catholic Church, he stands behind his pulpit, basking in the gentle glow of the rainbow of colors coming through the stained-glass window overhead. It portrays a scene of Ken being crucified, a depiction of the events that occurred on a High Octane Wrestling pay-per-view some years ago. At this moment, the recently deposed Sin City Wrestling World Champion.seems to be slightly perturbed by something.

“I’m sitting here and I can't stop thinking about my match with Finn Whelan. I am still sitting here and wondering why I lost. Finn Whelan is not, nor will he ever be, the better man. I refuse to lie to you the way he does. Perhaps Masque was right. Perhaps all of…” Ken waves his hand around in circular motion, “this has made me soft. I can hear her words in the back of my head, even as I am sitting here alone, “You've made yourself weaker to seem more palatable to them.” I stood up and put myself in the line of fire for them. I tried to be the hero because the “Bloodstained Hurricane,” the woman you will all cheer upon her return, decided to take a sabbatical. She decided to hide like a coward. I may have spoken in anger about Mac Bane, but at least he has been here. So, instead of focusing on Finn Whelan the way I should have, I split that attention. I fell into the same trap. Why? Because, for once, I wanted to be the hero. I wanted to be the good guy and do the right thing. I’ve been tiptoeing that line since I arrived because I haven’t exactly made a career for myself doing things the quote unquote “right way.” Perhaps THAT was my mistake.”

“As this match went on, it got more and more physical, I started to notice some changes. Changes in the way you felt about me and changes in the way I felt about you. When I needed your support, all I could hear was 'Finn,Finn, Finn.” After I lost, there was no appreciation from anyone for what I had done. Not from the fans, not from my coworkers, not even from my wife who decided she was going to dress up as a frigid bitch for Halloween. Sure, when I stood there face to face with Masque, then you cheered me. When I stood there with Mac, before the chloroform, I was cheered. Then what? Where did all that love go? When I showed that I was human, when I showed that I was a man like each and every one of you, where was the support then? When I have ever heard the chants of 'Kenny, Kenny' outside of the City of Baltimore, the city that showed me that I could be more than a Wrestling God. When have any of you embraced me or chanted my name? Never. You only cheered for me when I stood across from a larger evil. tYou only cheered for me when I stood beside a more sympathetic person. Part of the reason why I am in Sin City Wrestling and why I didn't leave like so many others before is because I felt like this could be my home. But what kind of home treats their family this way? I gave you everything! I gave you my heart, I gave you my soul, I gave you my Kendamned everything, taking trans-Atlantic flights on a weekly basis while we were in India, even if it was just so I could cut a promo for all of you. I am the MVP! So, Sunday, oh yeah, Sunday, when I beat Miles Kasey again, you can cheer for Kasey, I don't care, but if I was a betting man, I would bet on the GKD, “Godly” Ken Davison.”

Davison stands behind his pulpit in his den of self-indulgence. He is comfortable here. Many of his congregation are here, loyal to him despite not having returned “home” in a couple of years. Though, this openness is not something they are accustomed to hearing from their idol.

“You know, Miles, there's a fundamental difference between us. Sure we don’t particularly care about one another, that's no secret. But, it seems that you and I will have some kind of respect for one another. That goes out the window. Where there was once respect, there will now be transparency.”

“Let me ask you something, Kasey. Why do you fight? What do you fight for? I've listened to you talk. I've been around you enough. You fight for acceptance. You want these fans, these people to look at you a certain way. You have this self-absorbed desire for a legacy, to be great, to be remembered here at Sin City. You are fueled by pride. I know these things because they also fuel me. I know because you are in the same position I was twenty some odd years ago. But, this pride of yours, You call that a worthy cause? Sunday night, I fight for the worthiest cause of all. The greatest minds in the history of the world have contemplated it. Socrates studied it. Shakespeare wrote songs and plays about it. At Climax Control, in that very same fashion, I fight for it!”

“You see, this war I am waging, it's familiar to another war in history. Many, many moons ago, the fallen angel Lucifer and his minions declared war on God and the Archangels. Their uprising was declared in the name of pride, in the name of a legacy, to be the greatest. Well the Archangels went to Hell and back, but at the end of the day, love conquered all.”

Ken looks down to the flat part of the pulpit to a small wallet sized picture he placed there earlier, so he could keep his focus on his wife and daughter. Despite his momentary slip early, Ken still loves his wife very dearly. However, so long as Masque liners, so will the tension.

“Understand, Miles, you are a walking contradiction. The first statement you made after you won the Roulette Championship was something along the lines of “Anyone who says I didn’t earn this is a troll.” Am I right? Of course I am right. I remember it very vividly because just a few moments later, you said you felt like you won the lottery. If you earn something, you toil, you sweat, you bleed, you sacrifice to get what you deserve. If you win the lottery, then luck was on your side that day. So, which is it, boy? Did you get that championship by choice or chance?”

“You talk about a championship, a single solitary championship. When I speak, I speak about my legacy, I speak about a man who came to be the messiah of Sin City Wrestling. A few decades from now, you and I, Kasey, will be in the exact same place, six feet under. Our bodies decomposing, getting eaten by beetles and maggots, rotting away, and then what of your legacy? Miles “Milo” Kasey, former Roulette Champion. How many men who only earn one secondary, dare I say tertiary championship are remembered. Sure the fans that have seen you, they'll remember you, but when they die, their memories die with them. Men and women like myself, like Masque de Lune, we are revered not for our championships, though we have plenty of those, are revered because we give people memories. People remember when the United States Olympic Hockey team beat the Soviets in 1980. Red Sox fans still remember Game 6 of the 1986 World Series when Bill Buckner allowed a ground ball that, had he fielded cleanly, would have broken the Curse of the Bambino, to roll through his legs. Whether it is a moment of greatness or a moment of infamy, people remember moments.”

Ken motions up to the stained glass window above. The cameraman decides to focus instead on the very prominent scar on Davison’s hand.

“See that? People remember that moment, especially those who were there. But that’s not why I fight, Miles. I went through that “I have to make sure people know I am the best” phase a long time ago. Granted, do I still want to prove to myself that I am the best? You’re Kendamned right, I do. Do I need to prove it to anyone else? Probably not as my World Championships in four different decades and four Hall of Fame inductions will ensure my place in history.”

“There is one thing and one thing only that has been here since the beginning of humanity and will be here until the end. Love!” Ken reaches down and holds up the picture from the pulpit up to the camera. “That's what I fight for! I fight to provide for my family. I have been fighting for the love of my friends, even when they haven’t had the common courtesy to speak up for themselves. This is what I fight for. This is why I fight for Masque de Lune. Masque has spoken to me, listened to me. Masque has been there when others choose not to listen. Masque has instilled a confidence in me that I’ve not felt for a good, long while. Masque even reminded me of something I said to my wife while she and I were courting. I told her that I would do “great, terrible things” for her. So, do not give me a reason to have to dismantle you, boy, for I have the physical tools to dissect you in the middle of the ring for all to see, but lack the remorse not to do that because I have a point to make and you are the example I am going to set. Remember this, Miles, for this is the Word of “Godly” Ken Davison.”

Ken motions to his side and the organist begins playing “In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida” by Iron Butterfly. The film crew ends filming and begins packing up their equipment as the congregation stands up, slowly exiting the sanctuary with one lone, rather large exception.

“Alexi!”

“Dare are dings dat we need to discuss.” Alexi speaks with his thick Polish accent. “Is dare a place dat we can talk?”

“Of course, of course!” Ken says excitedly. He turns towards the camera crew, checking in before leaving. “Are you guys good or do you need anything?”

“All good. Thanks,” the foreman of the crew yells back.

“This way, Alexi.”

Alexi Madej is a mountain of a man. At six foot two, he was taller than average. However, it was his sheer muscle mass that makes him seem intimidating, At nearly four hundred pounds, he was layer upon layer of pure muscle. Truth be told, his image belied his actual demeanor. Alexi was a giant teddy bear to those people who had earned his trust.

Ken leads the man to his office, stopping only long enough to unlock the door. As Alexi had been a frequent visitor here in the past, there was a chair wide enough, and most importantly, strong enough to support his massive frame.

“I know about da Masque situation. Do you dink dat you can handle dis?”

“I’m not rehashing everything. Sean and Julia came by and I am sure that’s why you’re here. Isn’t it? Sean called you.”

“Yes, dat may be da case. Have dings wid da missus become bedder?”

Ken looks at Alexi with a look that tells you that him everything he needs to know.

“I’m not going to sit here and lie. You’re right.”

“Dat is right.”

“You’re not helping, big guy,” Ken says with a sigh. “The fact is I was so hyper focused on trying to make things better with Amber and myself. I mean, it’s my wife’s best friend. So after the whole getting kidnapped bullshit, I made a deal with Amber. Kyra found out and here we are. What I am supposed to do? Go to Mac? My wife won’t talk to me. I feel like I’ve got no one.”

“Bzdura! I am dare. Sean is dare. You have udder people dat are dare dis whole…”

“You’re right. Sean has been there, I feel like I’ve leaned on him far too much. He’d never tell me that, but he’s got a wife and kids. I can’t be up his ass all the time.”

“Den why did you not call Alexi, huh?” Alexi thrusts a his pointer finger in Ken’s direction. “Why did you not tell da woman how you feel?”

“I’m giving her space. It’s not like she’s ready to listen anyway.”

“Last time dat we talked, I asked you if dis woman was good for you. Do you dink she still is?”

“Too good.”

“Den what is da problem?”

“I’m afraid I’m going to fuck it up.”

“Bałwan. Do you dink dat your pride is dee most important ding?”

“Did you just call me a moron?”

“Idiot. Same ding.”

“ARSCHGEIGE!”

“Dat is German!” Alexi bellows as both men break out into laughter.

“I needed that.”

“Enough of dat. Dare is someding on your mind. What is it?”

“Well, it’s like I am trying to do this whole good guy thing, but it’s not like I’ve got a lot of experience doing it.”

“Is it dat hard to not kick someone in balls?”

“Depends… is the ref looking?”

Alexi can only give Ken a look of consternation.

“Here’s the ding. It does not madder if you are do good guy in da ring. You need to be da good guy at home.”

Alexi emphatically taps on the table.

“You need understand the pressure that I’m under.”

“Why is dat?”

“If I’m being blunt, right now, I’m fucked in the head. I need Kyra to understand where I’m coming from. I try to protect her, I’m the asshole. If she gets hurt, I’m the asshole. You know the story.”

“Dat I do, brudder,” Alexi nods solemnly. “Dat I do.”

“When I lost Crystal all those those years ago, I lost everything. I cannot lose Kyra and Adina.”

“But now, you have Kyra. Do you dink you lost perspective?” Dare has to be someding she’s said.”

“I’m scared that I will do something stupid, she’ll leave and I’ll be back at square one… with nothing.”

“NO! You cannot dink like dat. I may not have dings like you do, but I know dat nudding good comes from being like dat. If I was negative, I would not win Strongman. I would not come to dis great country. I would not have met you. For all problems dat you have, you always took care of me. Dat is why I am going to tell you dis plain. You need to swallow your pride and do da damn ding.”

“Alright, I get it.”

“You should. Sean said it. I said it. I am sure dat da only one dat say no is Masque.”

“She’s not said anything one way or the other.”

“Den why won’t you talk?”

“Every time I try to talk to her, I stick my foot in my mouth.”

“Dis is da same ding week after week after week. De people around you, dey want da best for you. But if you won’t talk, den dare is nudding dat we can do.”

Alexi looks down at his watch.

“How bout dis. Tell me about dis Kasey. Why not just beat him?”

“I feel for him. We walked parallel paths. We won and lost our championships at the same time. Of course, I know what that means. Between that and the fact that the last time we met, I was victorious, he’s going to come at me with everything he’s got. That’s fine, to be honest. I’ve never asked for anything else from my opponents. To be the best, I have to beat the best at their best. That’s cliche as hell, but that doesn’t make it any less true. He’s going to think because his little buddy from Wolfslair beat me, he can follow the same blueprint. Ain’t going to fucking happen.”

Ken pauses as Alexi nods his head in approval.

“Alexi, things are trending in the right direction for me. That’s not going to stop. Losing the Sin City World Heavyweight Championship is a set back, but not the end of the world. If I want to get to that level again, I am going to have to scratch and claw even harder than I did before. If I want to take back that championship from Finn Whlean, that’s fine. At the end of the day, I’m going to do what’s best for myself and my family.”

“Family?”

“Yeah. Kyra, Adina and I.”

“I know dat. I just want to know why you can do dat and not what needs to be done?”

Alexi stands up and Ken stands to meet him, Both men push their chairs in and Alexi walks around and clasps his giant hand on Ken’s shoulder.

“You got a good ding, man. Just remember, grass is not greener on da other side. Grass is greener where you water it.”

“You know fortune cookies aren’t Polish.”

“Dis one is.”

Ken and Alexi say their goodbyes as Ken shows Alexi out. Before turning to walk down the stairs, Alexi takes a moment to tell Ken one last thing.

“By da way. I made da phone call. Take care of yourself, brudder.”

“I will, big man. I promise.”

Alexi smiles and points behind Ken. He turns around, and standing behind him is his wife.

“We need to talk…”