[Christian Underwood]

Post your roleplays here by deadline. Good luck and have fun!

[GKD]

It was ten years ago. It was almost ten years since I had last given the name Sydney Laroux any thought. Though her name had not come up in conversation, there was something else that did. Twitter, the wonderful place that it was, had started me down the proverbial rabbit hole. Not one to share my thoughts when they turned to the dark side, I don’t know why I had decided on that day to post.

It’s not like me to reach out in such a way, but I’ve been having trouble keeping things on the inside. The first person to respond, not surprisingly, was Mac Bane, asking where I was. I was home. He was safe. He was fine. For some odd reason, he had been having some very disturbing dreams. Ken didn’t piece this together until some time later,

“I hope this isn’t the return of NV.”

The statement in and of itself was innocent enough. My old friend was speaking out of concern, not with any other kind of intent.

“No, NV stays with the memory of the cunt who inspired him,” I said coldly. We had treaded into waters I didn’t want to be swimming in. The memories there were like sharks that smelled blood in the water.

That’s when my wife turns to me and says “I’m confused.”

“Long story short, I had a friend and she used me and fucked me over hard, even going so far as the fake her own death. I infused elements of what I was feeling and created an alter ego for myself that was a reaction to that. NV was that alter ego.”

“Oof,” I hear from our other friend.

“Yeah, was a very dark time.”

I take my wife’s hand and give her my full attention.

“I was going through a bad relationship, the only other one I had before you and I got together.  She took advantage of my vulnerability. Being on the business end of an abusive relationship, no one noticed. It’s not like anyone ever believes a man when he says he’s abused. You add to the fact that I’m built like this and covered in bruises from work… yeah, not a good time.”

“Yeah, sorry if that scraped at some old wounds.”

“It’s fine,” I lie through my teeth. “But, for now, can we please just leave that alone?”

“I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to ask about something so bad.” I look over at my wife. She’s worried that she’s hurt me. Am I hurt? Yeah. Of course I am. Did she hurt me? No, that would be the woman who lived her life as Sydney Laroux.

“I'm not upset with you at all, my love,” I tell Kyra, taking her hand reassuringly. Those hand squeezes are one of our love languages.

“Awww.” It’s all she can say. I think she still gets confused that the man who is publicly one of the biggest assholes on television can be so affectionate. It is, admittedly, an interesting dichotomy.

“But I can see based on the tone why you would think that. No harm no foul.”

We finished lunch without broaching the subject again. Kyra and I drove home in silence. It felt, to me, like she still felt awkward about that little conversation about my past. She wasn’t distant. Her hand on mine while it was on the gearshift told me that much. It spoke to me more than any words could have at the moment. As my trusty old Grand Am rolls into the garage, I put the car into park and take the keys out of the ignition. Kyra goes to get out of the car, but I reach out and catch her hand before she gets the door completely open.

“So, since I'm in kind of a good headspace at the moment, I figured I'd give you a little more detail about the whole NV thing.  There's a lot to it, but even the short version is kind of long.”

“Oooookay, sure.” I can hear her voice shaking. “But there's no obligation either.”

“Of course there’s no obligation. You’ve never been that way with me. That’s why I feel obligated to tell you. You have done nothing but support me since we got together and it would be a dick move not to tell you about it, at least while I know I can handle it. But, I’m not being a jerk here, just let me get it all out or I don’t know if I can get through it.”

Kyra silently nods. We squeeze each other’s hands at the same time. I’ll get through this just fine…  I hope.

“Sooooo…..A little over ten years ago there was a woman named Jeisa.  She was the private person behind her public persona, Sydney Laroux. When she and I started talking, I was in a really bad place in my at the time relationship. I mean I was dead in the middle of the getting smacked around part of it. She and I had gotten really close. Talking, video chatting, she helped keep me sane.”

I’m trying to remain steady, but I can feel, not even hear, actually feel my tone changing.

“I got a text from her brother. I was told that Jeisa had passed away. I don’t even remember what the reason was. Blocked it out I guess. When I got that text, it tore me up. Honestly, I went into a full blown mental breakdown. I changed my name to NV Laroux as my way of mourning her. In the six or so months that followed, that was probably the only healthy way I coped with it. I drank, took pills, even tried to kill myself a few times. It was a mess. Pfft, I was a mess.”

“Oh, Ken…” Kyra almost whispered. But, I wasn’t done. I had to get through this.

“Oh, we haven’t even gotten to the fucked up part.”

“We haven’t?” she says in disbelief. I silently shake my head ‘no.’

I take a deep breath. I’m calm. I’m overwhelmed, but in Kyra’s care, I feel safe, so I continue.

“So… yeah… that worked out about as well as you would expect. Her reaction was to fly off the handle, accuse me of all sorts of bullshit, and turn almost an entire company on me. All because I was hurt by how she was treating me and asked what had changed. To say that there were feelings involved, would be the honest truth. I was absolutely crushed when I found out what the reality of the situation was. So, when I say I built up walls, and I mean huge ass walls, she is the most singular reason why.”

I take Kyra’s hand and kiss the top of it.

“She's also the same reason why I can't believe I let those walls down for you so easily.” I pause, relieved that the worst of this conversation was over. “And that's the short version.”

“Thats fucking horrible. I wouldn't trust no one else either after that.”

“I was vulnerable and she took advantage. Lesson lived. Lesson learned.”

“Absolutely. I get that and I respect it.  Life isn't without its lessons, but fuck!”

“Mac knows the story, most of it anyway, but I was not comfortable sharing all of with our friends.”

“That’s understandable.”

“Now that I got that out of my system…”

“I understand a lot better now.  I appreciate you telling me.”

She smiles softly at me. I don’t like to pry, but I sense that no one that she’s ever been with before has ever been this open, this emotionally available with her. To be fair, I feel like I am emotionally retarded, since aside from the “Sydney Incident,” I haven’t even tried to get involved in a relationship until now. So, yeah, that was a shitshow.

“Hey, you wanna hop in the backseat and make out like teenagers?”

“Now?”

“Right now.”

Kyra jumps out of the passenger’s side door and is in the backseat before I can even take my seatbelt off. I guess that’s a ‘yes.’

There was just something about the inside of this old church that feels like home. The smoothness of the wooden pews, the light, fragrant smell of smoke wafting from the prayer candles, and the immense feeling of smallness I get while sitting there staring up into the down turned eyes of Jesus Christ upon the cross. It was a far cry from the days of my childhood. The memories of Sunday services with my mother, the “excitement” of being able to take part in Holy Communion and tasting that delicious cardboard wafer for the first time, and especially the feeling of belonging … oh, wait, none of that happened. I was forced to go to church, although with this being the 80’s the priest’s were still being protected by the church. Thankfully, I was never around one place long enough to become an alter boy, serving a God I didn not believe in.. My mother claimed she was there to find forgiveness, but more often than not, she found the wine, leaving with bottles of it when it was intended for sacrament. No, I did not have fond memories there.

But that was the Catholic church. Now, I am sitting in the pews of St. David’s Episcople Church. As a professional wrestler and world traveler, I don’t get here as often as I would like. Still, I had found God and whether sitting in a hotel room in India or in these very pews, God is always a part of me, even though I don’t ‘visit’ like I would like to. I’m not the best Christian, but there is something that brought me back into the arms of the Lord. There is a longing that can’t be fulfilled with the glitz and glamor, titles and accolades, money and fame; the emptiness he felt could only be filled by rekindling my relationship with Christ. I don’t know if it was the loss of my father, or the fact that I was getting married, whatever the reason, I found my way here because I knew the man I had been was not the man I wanted to be. I could have found my way to some kind of emotional support group, I suppose. But that wasn’t for me.

I had found a friend in Rev. Amy Cornell. She was not the person I thought I would find in these hallowed halls, much less find as Rector. An woman in her late 50’s, she was an old time wrestling fan who could just as easily regale you with matches she watched featuring the late, great “Sailor” Art Thomas as she could speak of parables in the bible. She could throw the Ten Commandments at you during service and five minutes afterwards, list off her ten favorite Hammer horror films. She was a diamond in the rough, that was for certain. Never knowing what to expect from her, I smile politely as she approaches.

“I’m thrilled to see that a year has passed and you still don’t burst into flame when you walk in.”

“You and I both,” I say, smiling still as I feel the weight of her hand on my shoulder. “You and I both.” 

I repeat the words all the while sizing up the elderly man sitting in the pew behind me. I don’t know why I did that. I always did that. Perhaps it was the professional wrestler in me. Perhaps it was the knowing that my fight or flight mechanism was always set to fight, which had saved my ass a few weeks ago when I got jumped at that restaurant.

“So,” the reverend says with a slight sigh, “What brings you back here? The way I understand it, you should be well on your way to India.”
She sits back and smiles as she interlaces her fingers. She knows my schedule. She knows there much be a reason I am here so close to a pay-per-view. .

“And miss Ash Wednesday?” I say, knowing full well that it was a Sunday at the end of August. “Besides, I thought you weren’t supposed to watch our show in the rectory.”

Reverend Cornell smiles at me.

“I believe in three things;” she says, raising up a single finger “I believe in the church” adding a second finger “I believe that Jesus Christ was the son of God” and a final finger is added “and I believe in you. I always knew you’d be big. You had far too much personality to do anything small.” The Rev nods her head towards the cross. “You know, I bet he would have been a fan of yours.”

“Big? I think I was kind of a big deal before I started coming here. And, a fan of mine? Not likely.”

“Child, he has seen you make the decision, on your own, might I add, to grow in your faith and as a person. In just the year you’ve been coming here, I have seen that growth with my own eyes. It’s not as hard to believe as you might think.” Reverend Cornell smiles broadly. She seems legitimately proud of me. “So, tell me, when you have to be halfway across the world, why is it that you are here?

“Well, I’ve been having thoughts… dark thoughts. Ever since I got jumped, it’s like I am sitting and waiting for something else to happen. When it doesn’t, I start inventing scenarios in my head. I have dreams, nightmares, visions… I don’t know what you call them, where I wake up and I’m ready to fight someone. I almost punched my wife in her sleep the other night.“

“Did she like it?” Reverend Cornell asks me. I laugh it off, not really sure how to answer that. I mean, sometimes Mama likes it rough, but that is none of the church’s business.

“All kidding aside. I don’t know if I am okay. My next match is a World Title match. That’s not the troubling thing. I have had thoughts of doing unspeakable things to my opponent and my opponent is a man I think of as a brother. Do I want to be world champion? Yes. Who wouldn’t? Do I want to beat Mac Bane? Yes. Again, who wouldn’t. Anyone who can claim a win over him is in fine standing. Do I want to hurt him, to injure him? No. So, why am I thinking about it so much?”

“What are you looking for here? Do you want the Jesus answer or the Mega Powers are going to implode and destroy your childhood answer?”

I shrug. I don’t really know what I am looking for.

“In that case, let me give you an answer you aren’t expecting. General Schwarzkopf once said “The truth of the matter is that you always know the right thing to do. The hard part is doing it.” You know what you have to do, Ken. You also know how to go about doing it.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You will, Ken. You will.”

At that moment, a couple, probably about ten years younger than myself, walks up to Reverend Cornell. The Reverend looks over and I simply nod, acknowledging her need to tend to the rest of her flock. Sitting in the pew, I look up at the crucifix, seeing a man whom I had far more in common with than most people would ever realize.

“I suppose,” I mouth silently while making eye contact with my Savior upon the cross. “Only you know what I’ll do next.”

I sit in silence a few moments longer before something tells me I should go to my family.

I stand in the center of St. David’s Episcople Church in my full regalia. Amy has been nice enough to allow me to film here, so that I do not have to go to my church up in Boston. She says that it is important to spend as much time with my family as I can. She’s right. That’s why my wife and daughter have traveled with me to India, bouncing back and forth between two continents for the  two companies I work for. I am thankful that my wife and daughter will be there to support me.

I’ve chosen to wear my blue collar and tinted glasses, so as to match the interior of the sanctuary. Though I have publicly decried my Heavenly Father, being in a church that is still holy grounds, I know what not to say. More importantly, I know what I have to say. I take my place behind the pulpit and take a drink of water of the the blue Solo cup that Reverend Cornell was nice enough to fill with water for me.

“I feel as though we need to begin with the question that everyone is asking. “Why? Why after months and months of proclaiming to the world that the Savior's don't work the Savior's would I challenge Mac Bane for the Sin City Wrestling World Championship?”  It's a good question, a very valid question. The fact of the matter is my hand was forced. When I was forced to challenge the gothic one for an opportunity at the Sin City Internet Championship, the conversation I had with my brother put things in a new perspective for me. This is a job. It is our obligation to ourselves, to the fans, to challenge the best competitors in this company.With the Sin City Wrestling World Championship around his waist, that shows that Mac Bane is the best but this company has to offer.“

“Still, that does not answer the question as to why I've challenged a man, a warrior who I have fought with and against so many times, In so many ways, to this match. You see, we live very parallel lives. We met our wives around the same time. They were both a part of the same stable. They are both tied together by the same common thread. But, back to Mac and myself. We've been doing this for almost the same amount of time. We have crossed paths in more companies than most people have ever worked in  For all of our history, we have met in tag matches, we have worked together in tag matches. We've been in the same match with eight other people. Hell, I even put that motherfuker through a flaming table wrapped in barbed wire. With all of that shared history, some how, some way, we have never been in this position. We have never wrestled each other in a standard singles match, let alone with a championship as prestigious as this one on the line.”

“I know the reason why most people think I've taken this match, the reason I challenged Bane.  So, let's address the elephant in the room. Let's take on the green eyed monster directly. Each and every person thinks I am doing this for one reason. In fact, knowing who I was in the past, I would think the same thing if I didn't know any better. But it comes down to something that Mac said In conversation a couple weeks ago. He did not mean it in this context but he mentioned the word “Envy.”

‘Deep breath. Water.’ I think to myself. I am not going to bring NV up, but I am going to address things as they truly are.

“Let me tell you a little something about envy. Envy is when you don't want someone else to have what they have been given. Envy is when you look at someone and you think that you don't want them to have more than you do. Envy is to deny someone what they desire. In this business I can see how one would mistake this for envy. However, envy is mean spirited. Envy makes your mind rot. Envy make sure you do destructive things for the sheer purpose of bringing someone down to your level. “

“While I will admit to the sin of coveting thy neighbor's goods, I will not sit here and pretend that I am envious of Mac Bane. I do not want to bring him down to my level. I want to be at the level that Mac Bane is. I do not want him to fall. I want to elevate myself and my standing. And I realize that I will never be the man outside of the ring that Mac is. I know that. You know that. Everybody knows that. He may be one of the most universally respected people to ever work in this industry. In the ring, however, that is a different story.”

Another sip of water. I place the cup back and walk out from behind the pulpit.

“I was once told “If you're as good as you think you are, you can win in losing.” And while that may be true in certain scenarios see, this is not one of them. Where I won in losing is that I am now more motivated than I was before. My ego, it's far too big for my own good. I know this because I still feel that I need to be the best. I need proof that I am better than whomever I face off against. It is my weakness and shortcomings as a person that push me when I am in that ring. It is the chip on my shoulder that will drive me to defeat my best friend, my brother.”

“We are engineered from childhood seek superiority. Our parents and teachers, they tell children how proud they are of them. They see it as positive reinforcement when the reality is they are feeding their fragile young egos. We continue to seek the superiority because we find that we appreciate ourselves only what we are superior to us. This comes with a certain amount of risk. when we focus on ourselves, it has a tendency to weaken our relationships. Which is why now is the time that I need to answer the question that I asked at the very beginning. Why did I challenge Mac Bane, in the middle of a full house? Why did I challenge him in front of the world?”

I let out a kind of snort. I know I shouldn’t feel the way that I do, but I have to be honest with Mac. I owe him that.

“Mac, I challenged you in front of the entire world for the simple reason that I knew you would accept. I looked around the entire locker room and I saw no worthy challengers. I did not see a single member of the roster that deserved an opportunity, or at least not one that would have the balls to challenge you. I had to cut to the front of the line before someone that was unworthy of your attention did what I did.”

“Is that arrogant of me? Absofuckinglutly. Is it wrong? Absofuckinglutly not. I saw you make this mistake once already. When you gave Matt Knox, of all the fucking people in the world, Matt Knox was given an opportunity at your championship.  Not only was he unworthy, you underestimated him and you lost because of it. It hurts to say that, but I love you and you need to know that.”

“I knew that given the opportunity, you would not make that mistake against me. We have built that bond, we have earned each other's trust.  We both know that we will give our all in order to win this match. I do not want to be known as the man who stood in the shadows. I said it before and I will say it again, Saviors stand side-by-side.”

I pull the microphone away from my mouth and retreat to the pulpit and take a huge gulp of water so that I can get the lump out of my throat. Thankfully, I’ve got a good poker face. I carry on as if I’m not actually worried about this match. After all, I have a reputation to uphold.

“This may turn out to be my moment. Ideally, it will be the Saviors’ moment. I know that I am just as Kendamned good in that ring as you are. I know that for both of us this is a coin flip. Either of the two of us could walk out victorious. The question that I have, that I need answered, are you going to show up as the Mac Bane who kicked ass and took names?  The Mac Bane I know would have a singular focus on the GKD, “Godly” Ken Davison. I feel like you're distracted. I want you at your best. I want you to bring the biggest baddest son of a bitch that you possibly can.”

“You know why people fall to Mac Bane? They show him too much respect. Each and every time I have made that mistake, I’ve lost. You know why people lose to Mac Bane? Simple, they show him that they’ve respected him too much. For years, I have watched opponents fail to challenge him to the best of their ability because they went in going, “Oh, shit! It’s the legendary Mac Bane.” Don’t get me wrong, Mac deserves to be called legendary. But Mac, he knows who he is as a person. He knows the respect that people have for him. He uses that. He waits for opponents to show that respect. Then, POW! Right in the kisser. Good night, princess. Done.”

“That is not what is going to happen here. This is a match of equals. My legend goes as far back as his does. The reverence people have for myself and my career is on par with Mac Bane’s. I am here to fight. I’m not saying anything that's not real. Everything I say is justified and truthful. Just because I should be in a position of the challenger, does not mean that I am less than Mac Bane. I am a One Man Master plan and I can, have and will beat Mac Bane one more time and become the SCW World Heavyweight Champion.”

Now, I truly feel it. I see Reverend Cornell out of the corner of my eye and see her pointing to her wrist. It’s time to wrap this up.

“Coming into this match, I have literally nothing to lose. I don’t need this business, I do this because I love wrestling, not just wrestling, but I love wrestling the best. Mac, this just happens to be the place to do it because you are here. Mac, I am going to spare you the usual fluff and bullshit and leave you with this one thought. I am perfectly calm and perfectly insane, perfectly prepared to accept what this moment has to offer. I am Indifferent to the magnitude, which can be achieved only by someone ready to let go of who he is. I am ready to let it all go and leave it all in the Indira Gandhi Arena. Are you ready to do the same?”

Reverend Cornell cuts the feed and I sit down right on the stage at the front of the sanctuary. I’m emotionally exhausted. I think to myself, ’Is this really worth it?’ I guess at Violent Conduct X, I’ll find out.

[Mac]

The Best Of Us

“If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?”  ― Jodi Picoult, Nineteen Minutes

How did we get here?

Brother’s to the bone, neither will ever ride alone. That was our vow to each other after we had our last fight. It wasn’t a lie, fabrication, or tall tale. It was and is simply who we are. Our friendship was built on respect and later on trust. Our story begins before I ever even sniffed the main event. Our matches would become the stuff of legends, the amount of each other's blood we spilled was god damned legendary. Excuse me, “kendamned” legendary. It was a doomsday massacre match that sent both of us to the hospital. For a little more transparency, that match is a table wrapped in barbed wire that you have to set on fire and put your opponent through it to win. I don’t remember how long we were in the hospital, two weeks maybe? We had tried to kill each other and when I say that, it’s not an exaggeration. His mental state…. was in a very dark place at the time. Having lost a friend recently had scarred him. I was bold and young without a filter and no fucks left to give. He was out to teach me some manners and I was out to prove that I belonged. We both got what we wanted out of that match. I’m not gonna lie, he beat me half to death. I know, because we’ve talked about it in the past, that when he looked in my eyes after that match. What he saw was a mixture of defiance and respect. To be fair, at that moment, I can tell you it was mostly respect. That was my first home in this sport. He had been to other places before we met.

It’s a place we don’t talk about, mostly because of what a scum bag the owner was. I would go on to win two world titles there. He was in one of those matches. The title had been abdicated and there was an eight-man eliminator. We were the final two in that match. I would go on to win that, and that was when our friendship started to become more of a thing. After that, wherever he or I would go, the other was sure to follow. We’ve always had each other's backs and there is no one in this business that I have more respect for than him. He is more than a friend, he is family, whether anyone likes it or not. He is the one guy that I’ve teamed with that hasn’t turned on me. At least long term, that is. There were and are others who I’ve teamed with that never turned on me. Those were all short-lived alliances and relationships. We’ve won tag team tournaments and titles together. We’ve been there for each other for the worst that life had to offer. So, when I tell you and the world that I am proud to defend the Sin City Title against him, you can take that as the gospel. He already knows this but so the rest of you can understand. No matter how much I love the man. No matter how much I think he deserves this shot. I’m going to do everything within the rules of our sport to wreck his ass.

He is well aware of my attitude when it comes to defending this title. Just as I know that he is more than capable of beating anyone, anywhere, and at any time. He is without a doubt one of the best technical wrestlers I’ve ever known. I won’t treat this defense lightly because he’s a friend. Quite the opposite, I’ll treat this the same as I would defending against anyone on this roster. He’s more dangerous than most of you, by a large margin. From the time that bell rings to the time it rings again, he’s my focus and my priority. Making sure that I continue to be able to represent this company as its world champion is what matters to me. Knowing what and who I’m up against, gets my blood and adrenaline pumping and that’s all I need to get up for this match and do everything I can to continue this roll I’m on. For him it’s a natural progression, he wants to be a world champion again. I know he had wanted this match whenever Knox still held the title. This was always his game plan, it didn’t matter who held this title, he wanted his shot, and rightly so. All you have to do is look at his complete body of work to understand what I’m talking about.

You don’t have to agree with my assessment of my brother, I don’t care if you do. I put this out here to the world in order for you to understand my perspective. He challenged me like a man, he didn’t cut corners or sucker punch me to get me to agree. Did it surprise me? Sure it did, when you’re part of a group, you don’t really consider that the next challenger will come from within. I’m glad it did, I’m happy he called me and this company out. They were things he considered transgressions by both. Maybe he’s right, I mean he didn’t blame me because he knows who I am as a person. My hope is that we can get back to being the saviors versus everyone else when the dust settles.

Fade

{The Bane Home - Las Vegas NV - “New Family Members”}

Recently, we had a new family member or members join us. The female great dane that Kuyon had knocked up had come to join us. Her and her nine puppies. I was laying down on the bed, face down, my left arm hanging off the edge. I heard Amber giggle and then a wet nose pressed against my cheek, followed by licking. I raised up partially and looked at Sher and laughed. “Okay, I’m guessing it’s time for food and a walk, is it?” She woofed at me, danced around, and woofed again. “Sounds like outside first.” I smiled as I slid my shorts on and headed for the back door. I flipped on the hall light because no one likes a poop mine this early in the morning. I didn’t have to worry about Sher or Kuyon doing that, but nine puppies….”Well, none in the hallway” We headed outside, and Kuyon and Sher took off like a shot. “The joy of being outside is not lost on them.” I smiled as the thundering herd made their laps around the backyard, barking and playing. After the initial excitement, nature called of course, and with a bag in hand, I cleaned up after them. I disposed of the bag in our trashcan that was due to go to the curb at the end of the day. While the dogs continued to play in the yard, I began the task of feeding eleven dogs. Amber was already working on puppies' food, so it was a short routine.

“Thank you, my love, I appreciate you.” She smiled at me, “You’re welcome,” she said softly. I’d been trying to spend more time at home with her and less with Page and the Enterprise. I had also been watching her reaction to things, and by and large, what I was getting was being pleasantly surprised by her. That had really been all I wanted is for her to be happy. She had been through so much because of Masque. I had taken care of Knox, there was still some animosity there but I was trying to ignore it. I know he regretted his decisions where that was concerned. To be honest, neither of us could really blame him for what he did. I considered it in the past and I was moving on. Amber would occasionally throw a barb his way, which would send him back to being moody and difficult. It was amusing to me, no doubt about that, but I didn’t compound it by adding my commentary to it. All the animals were now fed, puppies had a belly full of food and were snoozing quietly. Amber brought me a cup of coffee and handed it to me. I accepted it gratefully, “Thank you, you are an angel of mercy.” She snorted at that comment, nearly spraying coffee everywhere.

“Was it something I said?” I quipped at her as I shot her a wink. She glared at me as she used her t-shirt to catch the little bit of coffee that was running down her chin. She swallowed her coffee, “That is gonna get you killed one day, you know that right?” I nodded my head, “Well, I’ve always thought you’d be the death of me.” She shook her head and laughed, “More like that smart mouth of yours.” I shrugged, “Probably.” She must have felt my tension, she looked at me in concern. “What’s going through your head, Mac?” I looked at her and sighed. “This match with Ken concerns me.” She gave me a stern look, which was an improvement when his name came up. She used to roll her eyes, huff, and walk away. “When I saw his tweet about being in a bad head space the other day.” I paused only briefly, “It reminded me of another time and place that should be left in the past.” We took our seats as the conversation continued. “It was a dark time for him and I’m hoping he was honest when he assured me that he was okay.” She seemed to take that information in, “You don’t think he’s lying to you do you?” I smiled, “No, he has no reason to.” She nodded, “No, you’re right, he is the most honest asshole on the planet.” That caused me to laugh out loud. “Yes, he is. He’s always told me he would never stab me in the back, it would always be in the chest.”

I took a moment to light a cigarette and pet Sher on the head, scratching her ears. She sighed with contentment and laid her head back down beside me. She kept a close eye on her puppies, as did Kuyon, who still insisted on laying between us. “Well,” she began, “You don’t really have anything to worry about.” I accepted her point of view, “He’s not weak love, pound for pound he’s one of the best I’ve ever been around.” She nodded quickly, “I won’t argue that, I got a good dose of that in Carnage.” Internally I cringed because I knew that was part of the hate between them. He had beaten her for the Carnage World Title. I nodded at her, “I know love, I wasn’t even going to mention it.” She smiled at me, sitting back in her chair, “Good.” We sat there for a while longer, sipping on coffee and making small talk. It was much like the subject of Masque and Amber’s retirement, we chose not to discuss that either in order to keep the peace.

Fade


{The crooked M Ranch - Port Arthur TX - “Expectations”}

I was back at the ranch for a short check-in with my foreman, Jimbo was a hard-working guy and expected nothing more from this crew than for them to do their job well. It’s the reason we had been friends since childhood, through middle school and high school. I had been getting messages from one of the new hires off and on this week so I thought I’d check on things. The new guy was first on my list of people to talk to. Earnest was his name, no I’m not kidding, that is his actual name. I finally found him, he had been mucking stalls all morning. It’s a thankless chore that no one wants to do, but it has to be done. He was soaked with sweat when I arrived, I nodded at Jimbo and didn’t say anything. Jimbo took my lead and stepped outside. Earnest when he realized Jimbo wasn’t there, paused for a moment. “I don’t think he likes me, am I going to get fired?” He shook his head in dismay. I cleared my throat, “I dunno, are you doing your job well?” He jumped, my voice scares people at times and I smiled internally. “I mean, it looks to me like you are busting your ass and doing everything that is expected.” He slowly turned around and looked at me. “Mr. Bane…I’m sorry sir, I’ll get back to work.” I shook my head, “No sir, I want you to take a break so we can have a little chat.”

Now, this is a grown man, who’s probably twenty-five to thirty years old, when I mentioned that I want to talk to him, his skin turned a beautiful shade of pale. I handed him a bottle of water as he approached me. We took a seat nearby, just making small talk in the beginning. I learned that he had come from a home with no father. His mom raised him and his two sisters on her own. No help from anyone, he had no idea how much that in itself impressed me. I could tell he got her work ethic, which was the entire reason that Jimbo hired him. “Okay, so why is the opinion of someone else so important to you?” He looked at the ground in front of him, and I thought for a moment that he was going to bolt. “Well, he’s my boss, and I want to be sure that I’m doing what is expected.” He looked off in the distance as he said it. “Earnest, I can assure you that if you weren’t, Jimbo would let you know.” I smiled at the young man as I said it. He chuckled, obviously remembering something he had seen at the ranch. “Yes sir, that’s fair. I’ve seen him rip guys a new one, live and in color.”

“Do you have many friends, Earnest?” I asked the question in a blunt kind of way. I was never one to sugarcoat anything. I was betting that he didn’t. “Not many, I mean not real friends.” That was one of the clues I was looking for. “You like doing this kind of work, yeah?” He nodded his head vigorously. “Yes sir, I love my job!” He said it so enthusiastically that it caught me by surprise. “Okay, so what you were saying when you didn’t know I was there.” He nodded his head and gulped hard. “If Jimbo hasn’t yelled at you yet, that’s a pretty good indication he likes you just fine. You are doing the job as we like it done.” I let that hang there for a moment. “Kid, something to remember about life. The opinions of others don’t make a bit of a difference.” He looked at me a bit surprised. “What people think of you is none of your business first of all. They’ll share that with you if they choose to. You won’t have to ask, especially with this bunch.” He nodded in acceptance. “The only thing that you should concern yourself with is, have you done everything every day to the best of your ability? If you’ve done your best, no one will ever fault you.”

He looked up at me and smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Bane.” I nodded to him, “Kid, call me Mac, that whole mister thing makes me feel old. You’re very welcome Earnest.” I motioned to Jimbo who came over and I thought Earnest was gonna shit himself. “You had something to say to this guy, yeah?” Jimbo nodded with a very stern expression on his face, “Yeah”. Jimbo looked at me and winked. “Mac, this is gonna hurt you a lot more than me.” I arched an eyebrow in askance. “Earnest, I’m putting you in for a raise, and if this tightwad agrees to it, the first round is on you.” He winked at the kid, who kept looking back and forth between us. “Congratulations kid,” I said to Earnest. I stood up and offered him a hand up, he took it and we shook hands. “For the record, Jimbo hasn’t given anyone a raise in years. And he calls me a tightwad…” Jimbo laughed, “Oh, and Earnest, you’ve also got the rest of the day off. Meet me at Mandy’s and I’ll have your paycheck with me. I smiled as the kid shook hands with Jimbo, he was excited to the point of almost hugging Jimbo which made me laugh. Jimbo pointed at me and mouthed “not a word” which caused me to laugh more.

They walked away as I was thinking about that situation, “Everyone worries so much about what other people think of them. It’s really a shame, a person can lose themselves living that way.” I sighed, thinking about my match with Ken. The only thing I could think of, as far as why he had challenged me. I mean we glossed it over as his natural progression but it still bothered me that he would do that in front of a live crowd. Could it be jealousy? “Nah, not my brother’s style,” I said softly but out loud.

Fade


{The Bane Home - Las Vegas NV - “Nightmare’s that become all too real”}

I remember looking at the angry red digital clock beside my bed, “two thirty in the morning”, I grumbled as the phone continued to ring. The caller id read as Jeff Castello and I sighed as I rolled out of bed. “Trouble?” Amber grumbled from her side of the bed. I shrugged, “it better be since he’s calling me at this time.” She chuckled softly as she drifted off back to sleep. I answered the call as I made my way down the hallway. “What’s going on Jeff?” He sighed, “Mac I’m sorry to have to call you at this time of night, but we’ve got reports coming in about Frank being sighted in Vegas. I knew you would want to know.” I stopped dead in my tracks, “Do you have eyes on him?” “Yeah, we do, he hasn’t gone anywhere near you or any family members.” That was a relief for me, “Let me know if that changes.” “I will, and I’ll keep eyes on him as long as I can.” I stopped again, “As long as you can?” He sighed, “Yeah, he’s up for promotion and appointment in Washington.” “Thanks,” told him as I hung up the phone. I started making the coffee, I was so wide awake now that it was ridiculous.

Frank Spatharos was a monster from my past, the person that is responsible for my nightmares and my guilt about the things I have done in my past. The man was responsible for turning me into a killer. “Fuck me,” I mumbled as the coffee began to brew. I threw a t-shirt on over my head as I stepped out back. I lit a cigarette as I stepped out on the patio. Kuyon and Sher, ever alert were hot on my trail as I stepped out. They both whined a little as if concerned and I assured them both that it was okay by petting them and scratching their ears. “So, what do we have,” I began as I thought about Spatharos. “We have a man who is on the verge of realizing his life-long ambition. Appointment in DC, likely a promotion to Admiral to go with it. He has many friends in the Justice Department, and also with the alphabet boys.” It was tracking so far, “There are few people left in this world that even know about his war crimes.” I knew I was one of those people, as was Jeff and one of the men from my group that was due to meet again for our monthly in the next few days.

My phone buzzed on the table and I saw a breaking news alert.

Jon Krator a Gulf Veteran and former Navy Seal were found dead today. Initial reports are saying that it’s an alleged suicide. No foul play other than his own hands is expected at this time.

I sighed when I read it, Krator wasn’t a drug user, he was too paranoid about not knowing who or what was around him. “Fucking Hell,” I said as I exhaled the smoke. “That confirms what I thought,” I said in almost a whisper. “I don’t believe in coincidence.” My phone buzzed again, a message from Jeff, “He’s been spotted near an old bar that you used to frequent with Krator.” I sighed and shed a single tear for the man. I responded to Jeff, “They reported him as dead from suicide on the news just now.” I lit another cigarette and blew out forcefully. “I know why he’s here, he’s scared and trying to tie up loose ends.”

Fade

{In-Studio - unnamed location - “The Best of Us”}

The studio lights were warm, but not hot. I could hear the central AC kick on in an attempt to keep it that way. I stood at the microphone and stared at it, not really sure what to say to my best friend, or the people watching this promo.

A lot of you may have noticed that I’ve not lashed out at my friend in a way that would make his new family angry. I’ve not seen his promo and I don’t need to when it comes to this…

I look at the world title and then back at the camera with a smile.

I know I have nothing to worry about in that regard. Doing things like that? That’s some bush league bullshit when you have to rely on things like that to get your point across about a match or a person. 

I unhook the title belt from around my waist and hold it up for all to see before I lower it onto my shoulder.

This. This is the reason we’re all here today. One of them anyway. I’ll be defending the world title against “Godly” Ken Davison. My longtime friend, a man of honor and integrity. A lot of you may laugh at that, at his core that is absolutely who he is. He has been my best friend for a long time. He was one of two men that were at my side when my first wife Melissa died. We have been best men for each other since we both recently got married. I bare no hatred or malice towards this man.

I bow my head briefly in respect for the man that I just spoke about, when I raise my head again you can see the fire in my eyes. My smile is gone and a more feral nature overtakes my appearance.
You see, Ken was the one that coined the phrase the gentlemen wolf when describing me. It’s all good when things are kept on the up and up, but when it’s not that’s when the wolf comes out to play. He doesn’t play well with others the say the least. Ken and I still haven’t had a chance to discuss why he did what he did in front of a packed crowd.

With my free hand, I pass my hand over my face and the fire in my eyes is gone and I smile.

Was I shocked? Yes, yes I was. It was momentary because we have an understanding between us. We would not dream of trying to block the other from achieving their goals. That’s a fact. I cannot control what the company does as far as the way I am booked or the way they present me. That is out of my control.

I allow the smile to remain as I continue.

As far as them, turning this into the Mac Bane show goes. Before the Saviors were formed. I watched as some notable names retired or simply walked out the door. Some of those that walked out the door did so out of pride and jealousy.  The overinflated egos of those people.

I pause as I shake my head in disgust.

They did so because they didn’t feel appreciated. I’ll take the blame for that one as well. I put this company on my back for the last two years. I take pride in that, I helped to make Sin City a better place, every step of the way. Now then, when the saviors were formed, it was a continuation of that effort. I wasn’t trying to make anyone in our group less important than anyone else. The thought was to create a more competitive environment that everyone would come to love. That was my intent, maybe it got lost along the way and turned into something completely different.

I shrug my shoulders in indifference.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions though, right? I digress.

I unbutton my jacket and take it off laying over the back of a nearby chair. I take my hat off and place it on the seat.

You came in and helped me keep the ball rolling. You, Kat, Goth, and now the Lady Melissa. You’ve all been fantastic to say the least. You had my back when I needed it most. Who knows, maybe this group has outlived its usefulness. Maybe I have outlived mine. All I know is now I am fighting someone who I hoped I would never have to fight again.

Staring down at my shoes, I shake my head, looking back up there is no malice, no hate, nothing but a blank stare.

We’ve each won our fair share of matches against each other. This will likely be a rubber match of sorts. This will determine between the two of us, which one is the best of us. I’m not sad about the situation, it’s business and nothing else. You feel like this is a natural progression for you, and I don’t begrudge or deny that. You do deserve this, but I’ve never felt like I didn’t deserve to be a champion. I’ve earned everything I’ve ever gotten here. Every step of the way. The Mac Bane show? Not my intention or invention, that’s your perception. I personally don’t agree with your assessment, but again, maybe I’m wrong about all of it. The results of this match will determine a great many things, I do hope we are all ready for the consequences. 

This time I hang my head in shame and shake my head knowing I’ve said too much.

There it is for all to see, there are few people who can elicit an emotional response to a situation like Ken. He said some things, and I’ve said some things. This goes beyond titles. It’s a brotherhood, and I’ll not allow my own emotions to ruin this match. As I said, I don’t like having to fight friends over the leather and gold strap. That is where we are, and that’s where I will leave this. Good luck brother, you’re gonna fucking need it. The name of the show is Violent Conduct. So that being said, let’s show them how it’s really done, shall we?! I may have said this a time or two, but it bears repeating. This is not a match I would have chosen. Not out of fear or anything like that. Out of love, and respect for a man who’s been family to me for a long time. We are going to do this though, and we are going to tear the place down.