Black Sabbath
“Because when we give too many fucks, when we choose to give a fuck about everything, then we feel as though we are perpetually entitled to feel comfortable and happy at all times, that’s when life fucks us.”
― Mark Manson, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life
The question lingers in the back of my mind, “Where do I go from here?''The answer is more simple than you might imagine.You don’t sit at home licking your wounds, you don’t quit just because you lost the top belt to someone you respect. You don’t act like a bitch on social media. You work your way back up to regain what you shouldn’t have lost to begin with. That’s not a slight against Alex Jones, quite the opposite. That’s a slight against myself for not getting the job done. His ability and talent saw him through the title match and the rematch. There’s no shame in that for me, every failure is an opportunity to learn and grow. Thanks to Alex and Austin, the Wolf’s Lair has become relevant again. Milo has his star rising and Alicia...well she’s the constant isn't’ she? Now as you can imagine, they don’t like me much because of the language I used in describing them as a whole and individually. The respect is still there regardless of how they feel, because you know…
I don’t give a fuck.
It really is that simple, I don’t care what people feel about me. Whether they respect me or not doesn’t matter. If I don’t have your respect then I’ll fucking beat it out of you. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. It doesn’t matter who they put in front of me, friend, acquaintance or foe you all look the same standing across the ring from me. You look like a victim when the bell rings, it’s just that simple. You take someone like Goth, I have a ton of respect for him as a competitor and his achievements here in Sin City. He’s changed his life around from where he was a few short years ago. He’s on the right path and he knows it. The end result was the same, I treated him like an enemy once the bell rang. As good as he was, the end of the match was the expected outcome, at least in my own mind. Think about this for perspective, I’ve been here for about a year now, I’ve accomplished all of my goals. I have done nothing but make history since my arrival. One of the fastest to a triple crown status in this company's history. I’ve beaten men that the so-called experts said there was no way I could beat.
Gents, I’m far from done.
Hell, I’m just getting started.
As far as the landscape of the world title goes, don’t think for a minute that I’m on the outside looking in. My main event status is far from over. Just because Jack finally got off his ass and earned a shot at the title doesn’t mean shit to someone like me. The way he did it was in typical Jack Washington fashion, he’s a fucking low life what else would you expect from someone like that. That shot could have been Vinnie’s but in what has become the expected, he took his eye off the ball. He became so distracted by other things, like brotherly love. You are nothing but predictable, big boy. You fancy yourself some kind of badass but at the end of the day, you’re just part of the body count, son. You’ve had your time in the spotlight, and you want that again. That’s something I can respect but you’ve already proven you can’t take the heat that goes with that spot. So, I’m going to do the humane thing and put you out of your misery. When you cut your promo I know it will be full of bluster and lip service but the fact that your hanging out with Bill tells me everything I need to know about you.
[“Knowledge is Power Part 4” -
Crooked M Ranch -
Port Arthur, Texas]
The air this morning had a crispness to it that was rare in SouthEast Texas, even in the fall the temperatures rarely dipped below fifty degrees. Thermometer read forty-six at the moment. Not cold enough for a jacket, for me at this moment it felt good. Being here right now, felt like the right place to be. I loved my wife with every ounce of who I am but lately things had been tenuous at best. She had told me that I was doing something similar to what she had done before, whether that was true or not? Well, the jury was still out on that. Her perspective did not necessarily translate to my reality. I was proud of her accomplishments, it was my own failures that were causing the problem between us. We’d even gone out to that swanky place to put on a good face for the fans and anyone saying or thinking that there were problems in our marriage. Like most celebrity couples we had to put on airs to quiet the fan boys on the internet. That was the one thing I hated about our life was all the pretending that we had to do in order to stay relevant. To put the right spin on who we were as the golden couple of Sin City. So, instead of being in Vegas playing pretend for people I didn’t give two shits about, I was home in Texas. I had just arrived the night before, flying in from Florida, another company's show. I was tired but it was a good kind of tired.
I felt fresh and ready to go for the first time in a long time. I still had my schedule to keep for Sin City, the usual round of signings and appearances to promote matches and the super show of course. A supershow that I hadn’t even been booked for yet. Not shocking, I’m sure that the people at the top of the food chain were still trying to figure that out. I knew I would be booked in some way and I was even more certain that it would be a result of this match I had coming up with Vinnie. There would be time to think about that later for now I had to focus on the task at hand. Figuring out why in the hell Thomas Mixon and the Senior Delgado wanted my land so much. That was the million dollar question for me right now. There were a lot of new buildings going in around town, most of them were owned by Mixon INC. That in itself was a red flag for me, he had a lot going on around town. So, what was it about my place that had so much attention on it from him and Delgado. I stared at the map of the property lines and nothing really just jumped off the page. It would have to be something subtle, so now I took a step back away from the map. From the bookcase I grabbed the tube that had a larger, more holistic view of the area. I unfurled it over the more local map and looked at it.
“The only thing I can see is this small inlet towards the edge of the property line.”, I muttered to myself. That section of land bumped up next to Mixon’s Logistic Offices and an Industrial Park. Was that the key? I wasn’t sure, so I went back to the documentation package the boys had sent me. “What is your game, you old bastard?!” I mused to myself as I scanned the map. According to the files that the boys had provided, it was going to be a way to ship goods more easily. Delgado had said that wasn’t entirely true, but which part of it wasn’t entirely true. There was other documentation there about his family's desire to go into real estate and build new residential complexes on the land. The list went on, rezoning parts of it for commercial use, shopping centers and the like. The last item I knew was a lie, a mall?
“Who the fuck builds malls these days?”
No one does I thought to myself as I scanned the map one last time. I finally rolled it up and put it back in the protective tube. Returning it to its place on the shelf, I grabbed my pack of smokes from the work table. The snicking sound of my zippo as I lit the cigarette was closely followed by the buzzing of my phone. A picture was incoming from my son James. He had gone down to the coast on a fishing expedition of sorts. The picture he sent me was of earth moving equipment. Lots of earth movers to be more exact. That would support the documents that the sons of Thomas Mixon sent me. Earth Movers were not uncommon in construction jobs. Something didn’t seem to add up though, the picture he sent didn’t have just a few earth movers, it was row after row of them. My phone buzzed again, the next picture was of the inlet, it was starting to look more like a series of docks. “Okay, so he’s building a wharf…” I said, trying to piece the puzzle together. Then a third picture came in, it looked like an architectural dig from the movies. The message from James was that I needed to come down there and see this for myself. My response was that I was on my way. I grabbed my cup of coffee and downed it. Setting the cup back on the table, I grabbed my smokes and my keys and headed for the truck.
Fade
Senor Vinnie is the topic of conversation this week. I guess scumbags of a feather flock together eh? You and the Barnhardts, that’s quite the recipe for disaster right there. Let’s go back in time a ways, you were injured in a match that David Shepherd was a part of. You spoke about how you were injured and could feel the ligaments snap. To come back from an injury so quickly is some borderline miracle kinda shit ain’t it? I mean, your doctor must be amazing. There is another option though. I mean what other option could there possibly be? You seem to be such a straight shooter with a great track record of being on the up and up, right? You’ve never misled the fans or anyone on the roster about who you are as a professional, right? Your word is as good as your bond, right? No one would possibly hesitate to shake your hand confirming it was a good deal and they trusted you, right? If anyone watching this right now can’t recognize sarcasm for what it is, I’m sorry.
Vinnie is a fucking liar.
I didn’t stutter.
I said what I said.
You’ll get the opportunity to prove me wrong, don’t worry about that for one moment. I’m very good at testing the structural integrity of a person's joints. I have no qualms about destroying you limb by limb Vinnie, it’s the least I can do for such a stand up guy like yourself. I’d much rather punch you in the face until you stop moving, but that’s frowned upon in this establishment. So, what is the point of our match really? Well, you had a match to try and become the number one contender for the world title. I lost my rematch to regain that title. My belief is that this match will determine a number of things for the supershow. Unless our bosses are just using this as filler on the show, and that would be sad. I know you’ll do your usual thing and talk my shortcomings into the ground. Afterall, that’s what we do right? I know that’s what I expect, as does anyone who takes the time to actually watch one of your promotional videos. The number of people who are entertained by you must be a huge number. I mean it’s got to be like...all three of them? You are not without some redeeming qualities though vin-man. I mean you have a right to be proud, You are a former internet and world champion. That’s a lot to hang your hat on. You were a good champion and I don’t think anyone would refute that. That’s where my respect for you ends. All of the other things that you’ve done here...the short cuts, the double dealing and all the other bullshit. It’s just fluff and not worth mentioning. To say that you are owed a receipt by many people is like saying the Pope is a little bit Catholic. It’s obvious, so obvious that even someone as dimwitted as the people you are keeping company with would see it.
This is definitely not about them though and It’s not that I don’t like you or respect your ability. Wait...did I actually just fucking say that?
Correction.
I do respect your ability but as a person I can’t stand your big lanky dumb ass. You are a sleeze, and hardly worth my time. The fact that I have to share a ring with you is disgusting to me. I know David wants to settle up with you, I hope he can wait until after the match though. I don’t think my ego could survive a disqualification loss to the likes of you.
[Las Vegas, Nevada - “Trouble in Paradise Part 2”
The Bane Home]
The smell of mesquite and oak filled my senses as I checked the smoker to make sure it was at the right temperature for the pig I was smoking. The smoker itself was as old as my oldest child. An old butane tank that had been cleaned out and cut in half for this purpose. I had taken this thing all over the place but it now rested on a concrete slab near the front driveway. I checked the digital gages for the temperature one last time and sat back down. Smoothing the legs of my jeans and leaning forward I finally exhaled a long steady stream. It allowed me to let the tension go a bit. Amber was away for the time being, taking care of whatever it was she needed to do. I had noticed that recently she had not been displaying her world title as prominently as she once did when we were both holding a world title. I notice a lot of things, especially with her, it’s both a curse and a blessing. I always knew when she was trying to hide something from me. Like the cut on her lip for example, maybe she didn’t realize that a little dab of makeup wasn’t going to hide that from me. At times it’s almost like I can summon her, just by thinking about her. I smirked as she rolled into the drive.
Grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder she shoots me a wink and a smile as she walks towards the house. Even at home it seems we like to play pretend. We pretend that everything is just fine and I know in time it will be. The path I’ve chosen, like her, we’ve walked it many times individually but never together. Together is kind of a misnomer right now because we may live under the same roof but we are definitely not together. I needed to try and figure out how to fix that. Checking the digital gage again, the fire is going well and it’s maintaining my target temperature. “Relationships are not hard” I muse to myself as I stand up and turn to walk towards the house. “It’s like gas really, if you try to push too hard, it’s just shit.” I say as I enter the house. Her bag is still resting on the bar as I enter the kitchen. I can see the strap of the bombshell's title sticking out just a bit. She has her back to me as she’s digging something out of the fridge. I grab the strap of the title and look at it. She turns around and sees me with her belt and I can see the wheels turning in her mind. I look up and smile at her, “It’s a bit scuffed, nothing that can’t be fixed though”, I muse outloud in a friendly voice as I shoot her a wink. I take the belt to the living room where my cleaning solution is.
I know she’s following me and I can feel the heat on my back from her stare. I take a seat on the couch and dig out the polish and the soft cloth and go to work cleaning up her belt. “What in the Hell are you doing?” is the question expressed in complete exasperation to me from my wife. I don’t say anything at first, but as she comes towards the couch, I begin to stand. I turn the belt around and show her my handy work, “Better?”, it stops her dead in her tracks. I find that sometimes with my wife, shock value can work best. My shining her belt had been a joke on social media for a while. Instead of handing the belt back to her, I take it to our display of titles. “I am setting things straight.” I say as I place the belt in its proper place. A place of prominence within our home. “This belt or any other that you wear should never be tucked away out of sight.”, I look at her meaningfully, hoping I’m projecting the right attitude and meaning to what I’m saying.
“You of all people should never try to protect my fucking feelings, Red”, I look back at the display and smile. I see the look on her face and can see the storm of emotions playing across her features. I nod, smiling and I close the distance between us. Hugging her I say, “I love you with every ounce of who I am, Amber.” She returns the hug and we stay like that for countless moments. “I want you to remember, just like I have to remember, I’ve always got your back. No matter what you do, it’s not going to change our relationship. I hope you’ll remember that.” She lifted her head, “Always” was her response to me.
Fade.
[“Final Word” - In-Studio]
I stand in the studio, looking out the window I think about what I want to say to close this out. I finally settled on a specific direction.
Senor Vinnie; an accomplished athlete, who has done virtually everything there is to do in this company. I can respect that, but not the method’s you use. I get it, I’ve done the “by any means necessary” thing many times in my career. Unlike me though, you seem to be quite comfortable continuing down that road. You care not for redemption or the fans or the company for that matter. The only thing that you want is the fame and notoriety that comes with being a champion.
I nod my head towards the camera.
Yet another thing that I respect about you Vinnie. You’re committed to yourself first and foremost. Your alliance with Bill and his wife? That will go by the wayside as soon as they outlive their usefulness. Again, part of your track record. It’s widely known that you can’t be trusted with anything or anyone. You don’t have a clue what loyalty is, much less what it means. Hell, I doubt you could even fucking spell it. Since I’ve been here, I’ve done my best to do everything the right way. I’ve given respect to people that have earned it. I don’t cheat to win matches. I also don’t just bury people when I cut promo’s.
Shifting my gaze back towards the window, so that the light gives my face an aura of sorts, not quite a halo but close enough for the desired effect.
When you do that, it makes you look like an ass should they beat you. At that point you’ve gotten your ass kicked by some loser that you have no respect for. It’s one of those “sucks to be you” moments in life that people have to learn the hard way. Once you’ve learned that, it’s the first step in being able to get out of your own way.
Turning back to face the camera, the smirk returns to my face. With a playful smile I continue.
My opinion doesn’t have much weight with you though, what do I know, after all? I mean, I’ve only spent the last two decades, honing my craft, in the ring and on the microphone. That doesn’t mean that you have no chance against me because let’s be honest. This is Sin City. If you are signed to a contract with this company you have a chance. Anyone can beat anyone under the right circumstance.
A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as I worked towards the finish.
You don’t believe that though do you? You’re one of those dumb motherfuckers in this business who thinks they’re ten feet tall and bullet proof. When I was younger, I believed that as well. Another of those hard life lessons that’s learned through trial by fire. Trial by combat in our case. I know you’ve been around the business for a while but it’s like you’ve forgotten everything you were taught. You don’t respect the business, only the dollar. That marks you in a way that I can’t even begin to describe. For the sake of this match, it puts the crosshairs squarely on your chest, and I’m the trigger man. I feel no remorse for the things I do inside that ring Vinnie. Especially to those like yourself who spit on the tradition that all of us who came before you fought so hard to preserve. I won’t go into that whole tired trope of respect the trail blazers...blah blah blah. Instead, I’ll welcome you to the body count. Should you survive this match with me you can count yourself among the few. It’s rare air you’ll be sharing and if you beat me? Even more rare, son. You should say a prayer and thank god for the ass whoopin you’re about to receive.
Fade.
