April 22nd, 2013
Charity:
The idea of charity is not always derivative of donating money. Sometimes charity is taken a step further by taking actions. Sometimes it isn’t enough to write a check to pay for your sins. Sometimes, action and compassion are required… Ahhh, Compassion; This is something that I have been losing a lot of lately. My proverbial “Give-A-Fuck” Meter has been in the red for months now. I go out there, do what I do best, and walk out as a dual champion. I have fought the odds as long as I could, but the odds are becoming overwhelming. I am starting to see people as nothing more than obstacles to get over, with only a few exceptions, such as my children, NXT, and my girlfriend. You can only abuse that cute little puppy before he turns into a rabid, blood-thirsty beast. The motivation for this is that we all want to get ahead in this cut-throat world. We will take whatever we want from whoever we want because we are a nation of greed.
Humility:
Am I the only person who knows how to practice this virtue? I look forward to a match with nothing on the line but one of my titles, and a whole hell of a lot of pride. I try to show humility to any opponent I encounter, but nobody ever accepts the handshake and warm wishes without spitting in my fucking face. I can only take so much of it before I fucking snap. I can only let so much go without reacting before I lose it and go ape-shit on somebody. We are so caught up in our own pride that we are consumed by it.
Diligence:
This is something I have always practiced, no matter how much of an ass I was. I always believed in a cause, and I always fought for it regardless of who else fought by my side. Often times, I stood alone, but I have always been persistent. I always stuck by my ethical code. As I evolved as a person, so did my code. It got me this far, but only because I hung on to them by the skin of my teeth. I am growing tired. I am growing wary of everything around me. Looking around in this sport, it seems like I am the only one who holds true to honor, dignity, and the virtues. I am beginning to wonder why I even bother. We are dishonorable because we are lazy… (Sloth)
Chastity:
We all know I have never been a chaste person, if I had one vice, it would be lust. After all, I never claimed to be a saint. Allow me to substitute one trait that falls within this realm that I truly believe to be a virtue of God… Trust; Can I really trust anybody? It has been said a hundred times that I have a big red bulls eye painted on my back. Better yet, I have felt the knives whirring past my head in every attempt to take away what I worked so hard to earn. Members of my family have turned on me. Both friends and past acquaintances have thrown knives at me lately. I can only find reverie in solitude. But I am beginning to wonder if I can even trust myself… I don’t want to become like I used to be. I want to remain a role model for my children, and to be a better person in general.
Temperence:
Self control… Honor… JUSTICE! These three things are missing from wrestling today, and their absence sickens me. All we want to do these days is play nice with people until we see their weaknesses. We are like cockroaches… snakes even. We strike at times that are only opportune for ourselves, grinding the honor of our opponent into the ground. This is sad. It disgusts me beyond explanation. We have become lazy, and gluttonous.
Kindness:
Where is loyalty in wrestling today? When I left the business back in 2009, even if you were considered a low-life, you respected your peers. You may not have liked them, but you generally respected them. You gave them the courtesy to at least punch them in their fucking face instead of racking their nuts when they weren’t looking. Okay, I am being a bit lenient here… It wasn’t as common. If you wanted to hurt someone, you did it in a somewhat honorable way. Now, it is the cool thing to ruin someone’s reputation in this business. We want to take what others have only because we envy them. We don’t want them because of what they represent; we just don’t want someone else to have them. This is where I gain a bit of satisfaction. People like Nick Jones or Jordan Williams, legends in their own rights… they want what I now have because it is something they don’t have. Whenever they utter my name in discontent, it is because I am top dog now. Gentlemen, green is not your color…
Patience:
Over the last several months, I have represented this virtue in spades. I have let people trample over my name with their filthy fucking mouths. I have let them get away with stabbing me in the back, or kicking me between the legs, because it showed their weaknesses. I have listened to people call me a loser. I was under the impression that losers didn’t win. At least that is the subtext. If I didn’t win, I wouldn’t have two championships, top regional, and top world levels on my shoulders. SCW title has been present for nearly 6 months now, and the NWA title will have been defended twice in a few short days, successfully I am betting. My point is that I have showed a lot of patience, but that patience has worn thin over the last couple of weeks. I have been fighting a losing battle with myself in this category. Wraith is taking over… and I’m in love with the feeling.
In ways, all seven of these heavenly virtues have been present within me since SCW’s inception. I have worked hard to fight with honor, dignity, justice, and integrity. Have I been perfect? By no means. Each day I live in the city of sin, the seven deadliest of sins are trying to consume me. You don’t want to see what happens if they do. It is an ugly sight. Unfortunately, the likelihood of a glimpse of the old Spike just might rear his ugly face, and my desire to stop that from happening is practically non-existent.
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April 23rd, 2013
As I sit here today, I can feel the pressure weighing down on my chest. It feels like, any second now… my ribs are going to give way. I can almost feel them cracking. I can hear it as my mind shatters into a thousand pieces. Like glass breaking against the cold hard recesses where my heart should be. Am I losing it? Or have I finally, TRUTHFULLY, found it? I can’t be sure that there is an answer to that because I can’t be sure of anything. Are you off your fucking meds, Spike? You’re God Damned right I am. Wait, I took them this morning. Who remembers? Surely not me. Why are you looking at me?
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April 24th, 2013
I am driving myself crazy and I can’t stop it. As I sit here with my angel deck in hand, I shuffle them, feeling them glide between my fingers. They move effortlessly, interchanging position with one another. This has become my saving grace, relaxing me for a moment. The stories they tell, and the guidance they give me has lead to a serene feeling this afternoon. I know what I must do, and I know how I will get there. With two titles on the line this weekend, the stress levels are high, but I can’t let it get to me. I must persevere. That is what I have done all along, and I will continue to do it. The angels are telling me that they have an important message for Jordan Williams, but they say I’m not ready to relay it just yet. Could this mean that they know it is my time to overcome the veteran?
Surely it must, but I can’t stop wondering. I am not ready to give up my SCW championship. I don’t want to, and I won’t do it. After what Jordan did to me at the end of the last Climax Control, he doesn’t have the honor that I have tried so hard to restore and reflect with this championship. He has proved nothing to me, other than the fact that he is nothing more than the children running around with Team Erik. He is a sneaky, cowardly, jealous pussy and that is not the type of person we want leading Sin City Wrestling. With this war going on right now, we have to make sure that those who aren’t sided with Erik have some kind of ethical values.
We haven’t done that great of a job so far. Outside of NXT and Sinful Obsession, we have the slimy, slithering, painted Goth. We have the self-entitled, rambling prick known as Kain. They can’t get along with one another to function as a team. No one can trust Mark. The only people who can are the ones that have dicked him over in the past like Jordan Williams, or a man so obsessed with himself that he can’t see past a reflective surface, and neither of them even believe in what we are fighting for. I fight for what I believe in, and I believe in the foundations, the traditions, and the practices that encourage hard work, ethics, and integrity. Those values are present with Mark and Christian. They are not with my uncle.
How can I be confident that this war is worth fighting anymore? Team Erik has numbers, and they have instilled doubts in everyone’s minds. Whether we like it or not, they are winning.
I can’t trust anyone going into this match against Jordan. I simply cannot. I can’t predict any real outcomes, because the ideal of good prevailing over evil is being thrown out of the window right before my very eyes. I will fight this battle alone if I have to, even if it costs me… everything.
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April 25th, 2013
Video Entry
We focus in on the flickering of a candle. Its flame dances with the persuasions of the light breeze circulating throughout the room. The fragrance coming from the candle is almost intoxicating. There are various small stones set out around the candle. These gems almost glow from the light of the candle. Upon further inspection, there is a deck of cards, blue with golden celtic weaving around the edges. They are spread out in an arched line, bowing out away from the chair. Heavy footsteps are heard from outside of the room. They get louder as they approach, and soon they stop. The door handle rattles a bit before the old door creaks open. The footsteps start up again, this time it is much louder. There is a faint clanking noise reminiscent of chains as a shadow appears behind the chair. The legs of the chair screech as it is slowly pulled out. The shadow steps around and sits down in the chair. From the light of the candle, Spike Staggs face is seen. He is wearing a somewhat devious grin as he chuckles. He scoots forward in the chair and his hand reaches in to grab a translucent white stone. He grips it in his hand as he closes his eyes. He goes into an almost meditative state as his lips move, allowing whispers to escape them. His eyes eventually open up and his smile returns briefly.
Spike: Welcome. I have asked the angels for their permission to video tape this reading, and they have agreed. As I stated yesterday in the manifesto, they have a very important message for Jordan Williams. The angels have chosen me as their oracle, although I am fairly new to this, so bare with me…
Spike reaches in with both hands, sliding the cards together toward the center. He sweeps them up into his hands and begins shuffling with the stone still in his hand. He closes his eyes and begins mouthing something else. As we pay closer attention, we see he is repeating the name, “Jordan Williams”. After a moment, one of the cards falls from the deck. Spike’s eyes shoot open as he heard it. He smiles and sets the rest of the cards off to the side. He rubs his hand over the small crystal and then he looks down at the card. He slowly flips it over and studies it in the shroud of darkness. He spins it around and slowly slides it out into the camera’s view. Red borders the white angel holding her hand up toward a radiant, heart-shaped star. In Celtic lettering, it reads Divine Guidance.
Spike: Jordan, the Angels are trying to tell you that they are there for you. They have seen you through these tough times. Divorce caused by your many infidelities. Your excursions with a taken woman in hopes of stealing her away from her boyfriend. The treacherous attack on me… the angels want you to know that, even though you are a piece of shit with absolutely no business being anywhere near something as prestigious as the SCW Heavyweight Championship… they are still there for you. Isn’t that special? But wait, there is more…
Spike smiles as he speaks in a calm, soothing voice. He allows the card to sit there. He picks up the deck of cards and begins shuffling them once more. He feels them gliding effortlessly between his fingers. He looks up at the camera as his mouth still makes the motions of his opponent’s name being spoken. He looks down at the deck as if he were cued to do so, and he pulls out another card. He looks at it, taking a moment to really soak it in. He seems a bit taken aback by it. He slides it out in front of the camera, next to Divine Guidance. It has an image of a woman crying on a set of steps with an apparition of an angel behind her, touching her shoulder. It reads, Guardian Angel.
Spike: The love of your angel is unconditional, Jordan. They know that every action has a consequence. Again, your divorce with Vanessa. She got tired of being treated like shit, so she divorced you. Odette saw you for the player you were, so she humiliated you in front of the world. The same way that I will humiliate you for being the slithering snake that you are. You will be resorted to a slobbering, sobbing mess. But rest assured, your guardian angel will be there for you as you take those pain pills and get those stitches. They will be there…
Spike nods his head in a very reassuring manner. He rests his eyes on the deck of card, just looking at them and waiting for something. He finally gets his answer and he picks the card back up. He shuffles the deck one last time, very vigorously. You can hear the whispers repeating. “Jordan Williams… Jordan Williams…” He keeps shuffling them and shuffling them until he feels satisfied. He stops and looks at them before one catches his eye. He nods his head and pulls it out, looking at it for only a second. His eyebrows furl up as he studies it carefully. He slams his fist against the table, shouting “DAMN IT! NO! NOOOO!” He looks up at the ceiling in an angry tone. He shakes his head as he tosses the card onto the table. There is an image of a female angel holding a bouquet of flowers and a solemn look on her face. Below it, the card reads New Beginnings. Spike growls as he gets up from the chair. He gets in view of the camera, widening his eyes as his nostrils flare up. He sits there, seething as he looks into the camera silently. After a moment of this, he points back to the table while never breaking his stare and he shouts “NO!” He shoves the camera down and it falls to the ground. It continues rolling as Spike is seen pacing back and forth, with his hands running through his black spiked hair.
Spike: Why? WHY!? How could you do this to me, I told you I was trying to be a good person, I really REALLY did! How can you take this from me? I will fight it. I WILL!
Spike flips over the table in a fit of anger as he lifts the camera back up. He takes several shallow breaths as he raises it up and points it down. He looks up into the lens, showing off the damage he has done to the room. His eyes show intensity as he stands there, trying to get a grip.
Spike: The only new beginning you will see is reincarnation, Jordan. I will defeat you. I will humiliate you. There is no way in FUCKING HELL that I will stand back and let this one slide. You attacked me like a bitch. I will treat you like a bitch, Jordan! I will do it. I’m not a fucking joke… I’m not!
Spike stumbles a bit as he sits down in a chair. He tilts his head down and runs his free hand over his hair once more. He smacks himself on the side of the head a few times to collect himself. Once he feels a bit more calm, he slowly looks back up into the camera.
Spike: I have worked too fucking hard to let some old has-been who can’t even commit to a serious cause that his best friend is so adamant about. It is because you are selfish, Jordan. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. You stepped on me to get back into the wrestling world by using NXT to build your credibility back up. You stepped on our backs to get further ahead, and then you climbed onto Mark’s back. You used him, then you used Odette to win back some popularity, and you can’t give any of us the fucking courtesy of a “Thank You”? You are a snake, and I won’t let anything, not even the Heavens, stop me from blocking your path. You don’t have anything it takes to be a champion. You still won’t even back your best friend… who you stabbed in the back for a bit of notoriety… and that is a damned shame, man. You are pathetic.
Spike takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he can’t seem to shake the look of disgust from his face. He grunts as he clinches his eyes shut. He keeps them closed for nearly a minute before finally opening them. The intensity hasn’t left one bit, but he seems closer to normal that he had moments before.
Spike: If the angels think you are worthy of such a new beginning as they say you are… you will have to make it a true new beginning, Jordan. No more being a backstabbing sack of shit. If, and that’s a big fucking IF, you can beat me… you will have to make sure you have the guts to lead an entire company. Can you be a role model? You are going to have to find out quickly, because Hostile Takeover is just a few days away now. Just remember… you have to get through me first. Be prepared.
Spike takes a moment to look into the camera, showing how serious he is. The flame of the tipped over candle is raging underneath him, casting an eerie, sinister glow on his face. Finally he looks down away from the camera and we slowly fade out… TO BLACK!
END FEED
///The preceding was a written documentation of days leading up to the present. All parts were written by the same author, one Spike Staggs. In no way was the video portion edited by Sin City Wrestling, the National eWrestling Alliance, or any affiliates. This was an independent work, published by Gen-X Wrestling Inc, and does not reflect the views of it, or subsidiaries. Please refer all questions, comments, or concerns to the author of this manifesto.
