[Off Camera: Hendrix Compound]
(In the basement turned massive in door gym, Brandon is sitting on the trainers table, a doctor checking on Brandon for a normal check up that Brandon has on his health since his first major heart attack in 2022. When the doctor is finished up, he steps back and starts putting his medical equipment away.)
Brandon Hendrix: Alright doctor, give it it to me straight. How long do I have left to compete?
Doctor: Well, give or take… I say about five years, maybe seven.
Brandon Hendrix: Five to seven years? Are you kidding me? I spend two million dollars a year on my body to keep it in the best shape ever and you're only giving me less than ten years? Is this a fucking joke?
Doctor: I'm sorry Brandon, but even spending all that money on your body does not take away the toll and impact it's having on your body. Look at the scars on your face, your entire body. Most importantly, look at the one on your chest.
(Brandon stares down at the scar on his chest that is directly over his heart. This came from when Brandon was in a cryogenic chamber and a lightning strike ripped through the building and struck Brandon in the chest, not only healing his heart completely, but forming a protective barrier around his heart.)
Doctor: You thought because that became protected that you could do anything you want and be fine for another twenty to thirty years, but that's not the case, sir. The damage you're bringing to your career- no scratch that, your life to an end sooner than you think. Obviously, you're a grown man who makes his own decisions so I'll give you my advice: retire sooner than later unless you want to see your daughter walking down the aisle from a wheelchair… or from the afterlife.
(The doctor pats Brandon on the shoulder before grabbing his suitcase of medical equipment and walks up the basement stairs. The advice is sinking into Brandon's brain: being told to retire before it's too late. Brandon was only twenty eight years of age and he was being told this. No no no and no! He was not believing that nor would he listen to it. Brandon dusted himself off and walked out of his own trainers room and walked into his massive gym portion of his compound's basement. Brandon takes his phone out of gym shorts pocket and connected to the built in Bluetooth speakers in the walls of the gym.)
[Playing- Monster by Imagine Dragons]
“Ever since I could remember
Everything inside of me
Just wanted to fit in (oh, oh, oh, oh)
I was never one for pretenders
Everything I tried to be
Just wouldn't settle in (oh, oh, oh, oh)
If I told you what I was
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
That this problem lies in me”
(Brandon walks over to his bench press and sees his four hundred and seventy pounds is still on the bar. His max is five hundred and forty pounds, but being told what he was told, he wants more. Brandon starts putting more and more weights onto the bar. By the time Brandon was done, he was at six hundred and twenty pounds. This was eighty pounds more than his max and considering nobody should be adding that much weight to advance their max, he's not thinking like a sane man, but as a man who was told to take your foot off the pedal or you lose everything soon. Brandon grabs his wrist wraps and applies them to hs wrists, keeping his wrists safe from anything that could happen. Brandon paces in front of the bench press, breathing heavily, starting to yell.)
Brandon Hendrix: Come on…. Come on…. I'm that guy…. I'M THAT FUCKING GUY!!!!!!
(Brandon yells before laying on the bench and places both hands on the weight bar. He breathes heavily and he lifts, slowly raising the the bar off the rack and slowly brings it over his chest and slowly lowers the bar to his chest, the cold metal touches against the scar on his chest, the one right over his heart……)
”I'm only a man with a candle to guide me
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me
A monster, a monster
I've turned into a monster
A monster, a monster
And it keeps getting stronger”
(And with a burst of rage, he pushes the weight up into the air, yelling as he does so and the weight bar and plates slowly move upwards and stays in the air before he sets the bar on the rack. Brandon sits up fast and beats on his chest.)
Brandon Hendrix: BITCH I'D RATHER DIE!!! FUCK YOU DOC!! FUCK…. You….
(Brandon holds onto his head, the feeling of dizziness and a fading feeling takes over and suddenly, Brandon falls backwards, and suddenly everything goes dark for Brandon. When he comes too, he's in the middle of the ring, and surrounded by one hundred thousand fans. OWA's High Noon event in the AT&T stadium, one hundred thousand fans. In one corner stood a turn bad guy, but recently turned very evil Nobi. And in the other, stood a drizzled warrior with a massive brusie covering his chest and a their Immortal Heavyweight Championship around his waist in Brandon Hendrix. In Texas, Brandon's resting ground as both men get ready to battle in the main event, but didn't know this match would have drastic consequences. Everything around Brandon fades again as the next thing he can see is the end of the match. Brandon is laid on his back, Nobi on the top rope, and Nobi leaps, forearm in motion as he nails a nasty H-Bomb right into Brandon's chest, right into his heart…..
[DING! DING! DING!]
….. and like that… Brandon becomes unresponsive. Medical running into the ring, and Brandon is forced to watch himself be declared dead, Nobi step on his body and hold the World Heavyweight Championship up in the air, and then….. the visual of his crying daughter before everything fades out again. Brandon slowly opens his eyes and sits up. He holds his head, but he's not in the gym, but he's in his office. He is in the corner of the office, able to move his body, but every step he takes, he soon realizes that he cannot move at all. He can't move forward no matter how much he steps. When he blinks, on one end of the table is himself, Brandon Hendrix dressed in all white. On the other end, himself again, dressed in all black.)
[To Be Continued]
[On Camera: Monster]
Brandon Hendrix: Let me ask you something Carter……
How do I taste?
I ask this because ever since I went after LJ all the way to just recently on X, you've been talking about me while I never focused on you. I mean it runs in the fucking family because your husband's soon to be sister in law did the same thing at the same time. Almost like…. It was a planned attack. A family affair that I've done my best to stay away from because I'll be honest, if I was getting paid the big bucks like that Lethal Lockdown match paid me, I wasn't dealing with that stupid ass family. It's not beneficial to me right at this second, even if Miles is the World Champion because that pussy ass boy would never give me a title match for making a man out of his brother, something he or their father never did.
Now I go out, leave your attention seeking ass family alone, and go after another wrestler, and all of a sudden it's your business. It's Alexandra's business. You should be focusing on Logan Hunter, you remember Logan, yeah? Graduated with the fucker and now he wants your career in the dirt. But of course, come jump on the Brandon train. Focus on me. Alexandra should have been focused on someone who could challenge her for the championship she holds, but no. She wants to ride the Brandon train too. I'm doing this match, but after this…..
Until your family becomes something that crosses my sight, truly leave my fucking name out of your lame ass marks mouths.
Now…
You're coming after a wounded dog, Carter- and you know that they are the most dangerous creatures in the world. That trapped in the corner feeling. Fight or die situation, approach me and lose everything. I haven't been one hundred percent since Into The Void, and probably won't be ever again. But that makes me more dangerous, and that's why you hate me. Remember the last time you fought a wounded dog? He took the World Heavyweight Championship from you. And while I put that old, wounded dog down, now you're facing a young wounded dog with a nastier bite. Ask your brother in law. When he has to show off those scars that will remain imprinted in his skin till the day his body decays and all that remains are his bones. My bite was nasty as a motherfucker.
Think of everything I've been accused of since I've returned. Coward, bully…. Monster….. dangerous… evil…. Deadly. The first two things are subjective, but the last fourth… truth.
I'm the real Truth.
At the end of the day I'm going to expose the lie that you are. The lie that you've presented to the Kasey Family. The lie you've presented yourself as to the SCW locker room. And the lie you've presented yourself as to the fans. You're trying so hard to be a good boy to Miles, a good brother in law to LJ and his whore, but when I expose that lie on television, you're going to have to admit that you're taking this fight because you need me more than I need you. I might be a monster and destroy people, but never once would I turn on my own family. You? Your eyes tell me you want to use this and Logan Hunter to fill your selfish needs, to fill that hunger your World Championship reign left you by having another one. You want to run it back, yeah? Have the name Helluva Bottom Carter run the spotlight again. And you speak like a man who'd fight and win anything you want, yeah? And deep down, you're the guy to turn on anyone, including your husband.
Makes sense, because sooner or later, Miles will see the lie for himself, and all you'll become to that boy is a pocket pussy. A toy he will use until he gets tired of you and tosses you to the side.
I said I'm the Truth because that's all I ever spoke. I tell people I will hurt them, step on them, and do whatever it will take in order it takes to make it to the top. And I'll speak the truth when you and your ‘family’ will speak lies. I always admit when someone is good in the ring, but you can't. It's why I've been main eventing every promotion I've joined, been in World title pictures since my debut in 2020, because even if they hate me, they respect what I do in this ring. Hell, I've wrestled LJ straight up, Cyrus straight up, and I'm about to wrestle Carter straight up, but the goal post will always move. What happens when I outperform you, Bottom Boy? What will you say then? “Even guys like you can get lucky I'm former SCW World Heavyweight Champion Helluva Bottom Carter and I'm just better than you 🤓” right? It was the lack of respect and opportunities I got when I tried so hard to be the good guy is what led to all of this. You didn't respect me when I did things by y'alls rules and traditions, but then I did things my way and I'm the son of a bitch?
Kill yourself.
You see, Carter, I got thick skin. Always have. But when the same person repeats the same insult every day over the internet or not to my face, yes talking to you, it becomes like a fly that just won't leave and is always trying to attack your food. That food being any success I get. “You weren't man enough! You weren't man enough!” Listen here, Cowgirl Carter. In one year, I've been more of a man than you ever pretended to be and I can handle hearing that I'm not one only one time. But you have to push and push and push until I react.
Congratulations, you got your reaction and your death certificate.
This isn't David Versus Goliath, it's two former World Champions that have been overlooked in their own ways to meet in the ring. And I do feel for Logan Hunter because I know he'll want you one hundred percent for your match, but he might not like me because I'm going to hurt you bad, boy. Now me? I'm going to the Internet Championship Gauntlet, enter last, and I'm going to walk out Champion. My path is clear, yours is on rocky roads, and it's all your fault for getting involved in business you should not have gotten involved in and lied your way to this match.
Also, you mentioned Raven, but let me ask you… why do you care? After all, he exposed you first for the fake ass bitch you are and took your championships after torturing you. Why do you care that I made sure his career ended in real time? You don't. Just my case of you needing to be in someone else's spotlight because yours is fading. Yes, fading. Let's keep it real, two pay-per-view matches I've had since my return, they get talked about more than any you've been in. Hell, rumor is Lethal Lockdown is in lock for Match Of The Year, and anything involving you? No. Hell, your husband could be getting Superstar Of The Year, me and LJ get awards for our shit. What do you get? To hold the trophies like a good little side bitch. Maybe I'll let you hold my trophies up too when I win them, let you feel what true greatness feels like.
I can't wait till our match Carter, because I truly end this once and for all. I don't have dead weight trying to hold me down anymore, I move on. And you will move on whether you want to or not. Word of advice, Carter. We can hear it. You still get cheers. No doubt, but you can hear the tide turning. Soon you'll have to face the music. Continue lying… or do what's right. Choose wisely, the consequences depend on that.
