“It all went to shit, approximately three years ago.”
The screen came to life with the beaming face of Kale Smith. It wasn’t the old Kale Smith that the Sin City Wrestling audience had come accustomed to 3 years ago, but still his white toothy smile was the same cheesy ham sandwich that it always was. It was enough to have the girls and some guys in the audience swooning, while the rest couldn’t stand the sight of his cheeky chops.
“That night should have been the best night of my life, and yet even though I beat Markus Reeves I knew as soon as I stumbled between those black curtains that something wasn’t right.”
The background around him was just darkness, so the footage was just focused on his face. it was slightly more aged than the last time her was around, but that didn’t take away from his child like personality that was still shining through, even though he was finally opening up about the past.
“I knew the burning feeling that was running up me leg, wasn’t on… it wasn’t right, and it definitely shouldn’t have been happening. But life has a funny way of kicking you in sack at times like this. I should be fucking used to it by now aye. Yet, it still hit me in the crouch with the power of ten thousand ex’s all coming for me nads screaming for revenge.”
Just a light-hearted smirk crossed his face as he winked towards the camera, Kale knew he was a bit of a heart throb back in his days, so he milked it when he could. Yet, even thought he was masking some of his story with humour, the audience couldn’t help but be drawn in by his think Australian accent that was retelling his side of the story.
“And instead of reporting it, I went on to have another match where well, history will be history it was my last fight for Sin City Wrestling. Not only was my lights knocked out in the centre of the ring, the light was fucking switched off on my career. Complete utter fucking darkness.”
The smile on his face, just dropped as if it had walked to the side of a cliff and jumped. His eyes were still focused on the camera as he started to piece together the rest of this story, it wasn’t going to be easy for him to admit what he was about to say but the truth is, his fans needed to hear it. Sure, Kale was only in Sin City Wrestling for a short time, but it he was highly promoted in the lead up to his debut and his sudden departure from the company had tongues wagging all over the wrestling scene.
“I was released due to negligence, painted with the tarred brush of being a green rookie who had not only put myself at risk, but the others I was working with. At the time I was livid, my skin crawled with the fury of a million ants in anger, but now I know why I was shown the door. I was a safety risk, a concern for my fellow peers and even though I didn’t see it back then, I sure as hell can see clearly now.”
His right hand came up as he brushed his fingers through his beard, his lips buttoned together as he took a moment to think about what he had just said before he continued on. It wasn’t easy for Kale to admit that it was his fault as to why he had lost his job in Sin City Wrestling all those years ago, so reliving the past wasn’t uncomplicated it still came with the shocking sting of regret and unmatched pain. It still haunted him to this day, but he needed to get his side of the story out and let the viewers know why he just disappeared all those years ago.
“It’s taken me three fucking years to get back here. It’s taken me three long fucking gruelling rough as guts years to get back into Sin City Wrestling… tryout after tryout, failure after failure, I had to drag my name out of the mud, I had to prove to Christin Underwood and Mark Ward that I wasn’t going to fuck it all up… I was pushed to my limits and sent packing time and time again… but I didn’t fucking quit, I didn’t fucking take no for an answer. It took me three years to get to where I am today and if you think I’m going to waste this chance? If you think I’m going to root this second chance up the dark path, then you need to realise that things fucking chance and if you can’t see that… then go to fucking Specsavers.”
That juvenile grin was back on his face, as his cheeks rose up his face to highlight his playfulness. Kale couldn’t help himself he had to let his mischievous chuckle escape his lips before he tossed his long untameable hair over his shoulder to expose his boulder sized trap and shoulder muscles, a sneaky insight to highlight the work that he had put into his body to grind his way back into Sin City Wrestling.
“Because I’m not the same Kale that was in Sin City Wrestling last time round, I’m not the same weasel of the boy that can be tossed around the ring, fuck that. I knew when the time came for me to make my comeback that I needed to be bigger, faster and stronger… because I have a point to prove and trust me, the point is harder than a set of nips in the winter time and lately it’s been pretty fuckin’ cold.”
Kale smirks before he drags his finger through his hair once more, before he turns his attention back towards the camera that is rolling in front of him. His hazel eyes focused on the lens as he knew it was time to wrap this part of his promotional up so the fans could step back and take a journey with him.
“Now enough of this sappy bullshit, let’s take a fucking trip down memory lane and see how I’ve changed from a puny little inadequate weed and chiselled myself into, this fucking King Kong sized mother fucker.”
He rolled his shoulders forward forcing a flex, but the smile one his face told the world that he wasn’t taking himself too seriously. King Kong was just one of friendly nicknames his best friend Alex Rush had given him over the path of his transition from old Kale to new Kale and well, he wasn’t ashamed to whip it out to boost his ego at times.
“And might I add, for shits and fucking giggles… no trips to any monasteries was fuckin’ needed.”
Kale roared out with laugher before he reached forward, switching the camera feed off leaving the screen to go pitch black. it was time to take a step back, to revisit some old history on the timeline that was rebuilding Kale.
--
Three months after Kale’s release from Sin City Wrestling was probably when he was at his lowest. Surgery on his ankle went well and even though he was given the green light to start rehabbing and training again, the thought of stepping back between those ropes was enough to cause instant nausea. He had embarrassed himself in Sin City Wrestling and all the hype that had surrounded his debut was for nothing, just two matches was all he could undertake before he was left out in the cold, needing to fend for himself. Kale wasn’t mad at Mark or Christian, it wasn’t their fault that he wasn’t ready… it wasn’t their fault that he didn’t treat his debut with the respect that it deserved. Kale had rushed in, under the veal of thinking he was unstoppable and right now he was leaning the hard way yet again that even young athletically gifted people can suffer at the hands of injury.
It was at this point, Kale’s attention shifted from wrestling to just doing whatever job he could get his hands on to keep his head above water when it came to paying his rent and keeping him planted in the United States. There was no way he could go back home to Australia, there was no way he could face his mother and see her break down when he told her that once again, he had brought shame to his family. His first career was in the AFL back home and when he went on a bender and ruined the multimillion-dollar deal that he was going to use to help pay for his seven brothers and sister’s futures, he couldn’t handle the pressure of disappointing his family. That’s why his career path was pointed towards another direction, that’s why Kale moved into the world of wrestling. Yet, here he was wallowing in the pity of having the rugged ripped out from underneath his feet.
And now since his wrestling career was in the background, Kale resorted to working for Thunder from Down Under. Yet, it wasn’t in the compacity you would think with a guy like Kale’s good looks and rustic charm, he wasn’t the guy you got to see on stage shaking what the lord gave him, so horny females could throw dollars towards him. He wasn’t even allowed to step on stage, Kale was just the guy that sold the tickets out front of the casino, they had picked him because they knew his rough good looks and his authentic Australian accent would be enough to draw the women in. Tricking them into believing they would see him later preform on stage however, even the managers of Thunder Down Under knew that would be a liability. Every day Kale went to work, in his crammed up little ticket booth he hated himself a little more, this wasn’t what he wanted, this wasn’t what he was born to do… he was caged animal but right now at times his subconscious had him too scared to put one foot in front of the other.
The thought of hitting the gym or stepping back into the ring was enough to cripple him like when Creed got his arse handed to him by that Russian dude… his back was against the wall and to be honest he didn’t see anyway out. The thing about Vegas is, that regardless of that stupid saying “what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.” Was stone cold lie, in this town no one’s personal lives were off limits and nobodies identity was hidden for long. You see word got out to one guy in particular about Kale’s whereabouts and what he was up to and well needless to say, he wasn’t going to let his buddy waste his life like this.
The day started like a regular day, with a line-up of flirty females, with their fists filled with cash as they waited for their turn to step up to ticket sale booth to drop hundreds of dollars down to see the cast of Thunder from Down Under. Yet Kale put on his best smile as he served the flock of women that passed him by like a revolving door. Each time a new woman stepped up, he could see the excitement beaming in her eyes as she asked for however many tickets she needed before leading into her next follow up question.
“Will we be seeing you on stage tonight, cutie?” The blonde asked him, as he blue eyes sparkled.
Kale just faked a laugh before he replied. “Sorry love, this cowboy doesn’t get to wrangle tonight.” He followed it up with a boyish wink.
That line was one of the many shutdown lines he had picked up over the past three months working here, they spilled out of his mouth so effortless he didn’t even have to think of any other witty responses. The blonde frown as she took her tickets from Kale, but before she left, she made her disappointment known.
“That’s a shame, they’re really missing out not having you up there.” She flirted back.
Kale couldn’t help but thank the woman for her compliments before he politely smiled and called the next woman up to the stall. It was wash, rinse, repeat with these women. All desperate to see him on stage, yet none of them knew that he hated himself for doing this nonrewarding job. As the woman left, Kale waved his hand expecting the next lady to approach his window and he was ready to feed them the same lines. His head was down for a spilt second before he opened his mouth to talk.
“How many tickets can I get you fine ladies?” His Australian accent was thick.
“Man, depression makes you look like a smashed pancake…” An either thicker British accent fired back.
Kale just moved to the next question. “Do you want to sit at the front middle or back.”
“Hellloooooo… Earth to Kale.” The man said before he knocked his knuckles on the glass that separated them. “We need to get you out of that box, the lack of air isn’t doing ya brain to good.” The man fired back.
It wasn’t until Kale looked up that his eyes had come into contact to the grinning face of Alex Rush. Alex was like his brother in SCW and even though they had only known each other for a short time, they clicked like mushy peas on a pie. Kale’s eyes lit up as he saw his friend’s smiling face for the first time in months and before he could say anything Alex’s booming, yet shrilling voice alerted everyone of their worst nightmare.
“THIS BOOTH IS CLOSED.” His announcement was meat with a chorus of groans.
“What are you doing? You’re going to get me fired.” Kale fired back.
Alex tapped the right side of his head. “You can’t get fired if you already quit.” He tapped again at his temple.
Kale looked up him through the glass with his face screwed up, as he was confused as to what was happening.
“Huh?” Was all he could muster up.
“Shh.” Alex said moving toward the glass. “But I totally forged your letter of registration, don’t worry I used big words like cheers and no-fucken’-worries-mate. To make it come across as authentic.” He smirked.
“I need this job, mate.” Kale replied his voice highlighting his confusion.
“You don’t need this. “Alex waved his hand at the booth. “You need this.” His hands waved towards the ladies. “And I’m going to help you get there.”
Alex went to walk off, leaving a confused Kale behind but when Mister Firecrotch noticed that Kale wasn’t following him, he quickly took a few steps back and knocked on the glass once more.
“Chop, chop… we don’t have time to waste.” He tapped at his wrist where there wasn’t even a watch.
Without any more question, Kale just stood up from his glass booth and he made his way towards the exit, leaving behind the worst job he had probably ever done and well the rest is well history that will be explored over the course of the Blast from the Past tournament.
--
“So, there you have it, just a sneaky little insight to my climb back into the Sin City Wrestling ring, if it wasn’t for my best friend Alex Rush… I’d probably still be selling those tickets. I don’t even get it ladies; the show isn’t even that great but still you go mad like flies on a dog’s breakfast to see it. It’s some freaky fifty shades of grey shit that happens in those seats”
The camera comes back to life to see Kale’s smiling face back on the screen. It doesn’t take long for his cheeky cheesy grin to become the sole focus on the screen before he continues.
“So, long story short… Caleb you can thank Alex this Sunday night after I make my return to Sin City Wrestling and I beat the holy swiss cheese out of your rock and roll death metal lovin’ music arse.”
A chuckle left his lips before Kale clapped his hands together.
“I’ve been waiting three years for this moment and trust me little fella, if you think I’m going to come back and take this fucking easy you have another thing heading your way. Last time I was in Sin City Wrestling I made a monkey out of myself and trust me when I say this, they might call me King Kong but I’m not going to ape around this time round. I’m all good for a laugh backstage and trust me there will be many, but once I plant these size thirteen feet inside that ring, It’s all business… because I have to show the world that I’m not the same fuck knuckle that was in Sin City Wrestling last time I was around. I have to prove to Wardy and Undow that I’ve come back with a purpose and with the goal of giving this a red-hot crack this time round.”
Kale continued to smile as he looked down the lens of the camera, before he moved his head from side to side cracking it.
“You see there’s a fire in this belly and trust me, it’s taken three long years to get it burning to the point where I can’t stand back and let it be contained for much longer… and welp it’s tough luck for you on Sunday at Blaze of Glory because my return into this sport is going to be the beginning of a long career, it’s going to be the beginning that should have happened three years ago, but I’ve learnt from those mistakes bro, that’s fucking history never to be repeated. So, I’ll see your flakily bony body bag on Sunday when I leave you down and out. You’ll be zipped up and tossed out”
Another chuckle left his lips before he cracked on and starting to wrap this one up.
“Don’t get me wrong, I saw how you stood your ground with Fenris last time you were in the ring, so I know this isn’t going to be an easy win for me, but mate… I can assure you no ring rust will sprinkle from these hands-on Sunday night. I’m coming back with one goal and one goal only to make up for lost time, and right now your busted mug is what’s standing between me and my golden ticket into the Blast from the Past tournament where I plan on winning my way up the ladder, proving my worth… so I can one day stand across the ring from the Sin City Wrestling World Heavyweight Champion… so I can look them dead in the fuckin eye and tell them, that I can’t wait to Toss my Salad.”
His chuckle vibrated into a roar of laughter as he mentioned the quirky name of his finishing move, his chuckle was one of innocence as his childish behaviour couldn’t help but sneak in.
“You and I bloke have somethings in common, we both want to win the big one on Sunday night, but when it all boils down to it mate… my hair is better than yours and that my friend is the fucking difference between you losing and me winning.”
Kale swished his hair around like he was a Pantene hair model before he smirked towards the camera.
“All fun and games mate, but once I step inside that ring on Sunday night… you’ll be welcome with a stamped passport to destination fucked.”
Kale brought his hands up in front of him before he cracked his knuckles, his childish smirk on his face didn’t shift as the camera slowly faded away into darkness. Leaving the SCW audience to wonder, did the Australian have what it takes this time round to move forward with his dreams of conquering his professional wrestling career.
