"You know, in all the years that I've been involved in wrestling, I've aired countless promos and aired so many aspects of my personal life. I've let the fans in, so to speak, and they've gotten to know a little bit of everything about me over the years. But here's a little something that I'm willing to bet not many of you were aware of."
"I hate -- and I mean hate dentists!"
"Then again, that's not really very much of a secret, is it? After all, do you know of anyone who wakes up one morning and says to themselves, 'Oh, gee! I feel like paying my local dentist a visit! Oh! Better still, maybe he'll have to take a drill inside of my mouth! Hooray!'"
"Yeah. No. I doubt this visit would have been wreaking such havoc with my mind if Halloween hadn't just been a few short days ago and my sister and I had watched the horror movie 'The Dentist' on cable. Our own little tradition, if you will, since we were kids. The week leading up to Halloween? We'd watch one horror or monster movie per night. Unfortunately one night we just happened to watch a movie about a psychotic dentist -- and here I am."
"Well Bo, I have some good news and some bad news." Doctor Ryan said, re-entering the exam room with his assistant trailing behind him. Seriously, where is it stated that all dental assistants had to be young, blonde and buxom? Do they manufacture them at some form of ranch, like Playboy bunnies and those handsome UPS men that my sister seems to fawn over? (Don't tell her I said that.) In the dentist's hands, he was holding a set of X-Rays and looking them over. He glanced up and smiled. "Which would you like first?"
"I'm sitting in a dentist's chair, and he walks in and says he has some bad news?" I sighed. "Spoiled for choices." I shrugged. "I guess bad first. Least the good news will dull that."
"I think it will." Doctor Ryan said with a confident smile. "The bad news is that unfortunately that one tooth was cracked straight down the middle. Hence why you've been in such pain. It went straight to the nerve and as such, I'm afraid we won't be able to save it."
"I had that feeling." I nodded. "So the good news?"
"The good news is that the other two teeth were just knocked loose, so as long as you take it easy, avoid chewing, etcetera -- the teeth will take root again and they'll be fine. Maybe a little crooked but fine, never the less."
"That is a blessing." I nodded. "My sister was making meatloaf for our dinner tonight. Now I'll have an excuse not to have to eat it."
Doctor Ryan and his assistant Candice (Candy, really?) both chuckled at what they perceived to be a joke, and I guess it was. A truthful one, however. Abigail is nothing short of a whiz in a kitchen but the one thing she seems to have trouble with, is meatloaf. So why bother making it? The logic is lost to me. Pride, perhaps?
"So..." Doctor Ryan said as he set the X-Rays down and Candice maneuvered around behind me to place a 'bib' around my neck. "...I'm afraid we're going to have to cut that bad tooth out." And he walked over to the glass cabinet where I could clearly see the syringes and pain killers that he was about to inject into my mouth.
"Thanks, Gabriel. I really owe you one, buddy."
"You know, I've traveled extensively since my foray into the rough and tumble world of professional wrestling. I've been as far as Africa, Europe and Asia. I will go on record and credit the men in Japan as being the roughest and hardest hitting that I've ever opposed, but I seriously don't think any of the ones I've fought could hold a candle to Gabriel and that kick he nailed me in the face with. And trust me, I should know! The Japanese use martial arts kicks the way most wrestlers use their fists! Yet Gabriel hit me with one that really rang my bell harder than I can recall being hit before. All I remember is waking up with a horrible pain in my face and blood in my mouth."
"I should be angry with him. I should have sought him out, demanded a match against him and by all logic, forced a reckoning. After all, I had done him no harm. I played no role in what that blathering idiot Bruce Evans did to that boy. Quite frankly, I should have kicked Gabriel's ass. 'Should' being the operative turn of phrase. The problem was, I felt none of those things. Not really."
"Truth of the matter is, I fully understood just why Gabriel responded the way he did when we found Despayre locked in that coffin. A coffin! I mean, seriously! Who in God's name would do that to another human being!? Especially a boy who everyone knows already has certain mental deficiencies! It would be akin to locking a child in a coffin! I have no idea how long Despayre had been locked in that coffin, but I saw with my own two eyes his reaction. I saw how the inside of the coffin was shredded by the boy's fingers, trying to get out. I heard the terror in his voice when he screamed for Gabriel to help him."
"That is why I can't find it within myself to answer Gabriel's attack in kind. I understand fully why he did it. As a matter of fact, I think I'm going to end up doing the exact opposite. When I saw what Bruce Evans did to that kid, I fully came to realize the level of cruelty that Blaque Hart was capable of. I'm not going to target Gabriel for that kick to the mouth that sent me to the dentist. I'm going to take this out of Evans's hide with interest. I'm going to make whatever terrors that were inflicted on Gabriel's friend's mind seem tame by comparison to what Bruce is going to be put through. Blaque Hart wanted a Hardcore Match, and he got one. I might never have been in one before myself -- and that is a fact I'm certain he was counting on -- but he obviously forgot that I was trained by a man that is by the very definition of 'hardcore'."
"Mister Parker's exact words? 'Show that bastard no mercy, because he sure as Hell won't show you any.'"
That's pretty much the reasoning behind why I had to visit that dentist, and why I was now stepping inside of my home in Oklahoma with half of my face numb and a mouth full of cotton. By all common sense, I should have went to a dentist straight away in Las Vegas, but if I have to be honest, I wasn't going to be coerced to visit any dentist other than my family's own. So I took the pain killers and put up with the agony for a few extra days until I got back to Tahlequah.
"Bo?" I heard my Grandmother's voice coming from the living room and I turned the corner, taking a detour from my intended destination of the kitchen for an ice pack and found the matriarch of my family seated in her chair, watching the news. "What happened at the..." She glanced up from the screen and I felt her concern immediately when she saw my face. "Oh no..."
She turned the television on mute and stood up from her chair and walked around the table beside it to get a closer look at me. She placed her fingertips from both hands on the sides of my face gently and tilted my head to inspect my face. She clucked her tongue and let my face go.
"Will you be needing...?"
"Is that Bo?" My sister interrupted as she entered the living room, wiping a dish with a hand towel and she caught sight of the condition of my face and frowned. "Ouch."
"Yeah." I murmured and tossed the keys to my car into a dish on the coffee table. "That about sums everything up perfectly."
"What did the dentist say?" Abigail asked and it was just as well she had come in, as the way my mouth felt, I was not keen on repeating myself. The less talking I had to do, the better.
I sighed and said simply, "One tooth was cracked and had to be removed. Two others were knocked loose but will reroot."
My Grams's face fell and she shook her head.
"So I suppose it's just soup for you tonight." Abigail added. "No meatloaf."
"Hunh." I jetted out my bottom lip and looked to my Grandmother. "There's your silver lining."
Grandmother's eyes sparkled with mischievous humor at that crack and Abigail shifted a hand to her hip and gave me a scathing look, but one of humorous intent. She pursed her lips and shook her finger in my direction.
She said, "Just for that, I know what the first meal is going to be when you can chew again." She then looked at Grams and said, "I'll have supper ready in a bit. You want to finish watching the news while I get Bo to help?"
"Not particularly." Our Grandmother answered. "It's all just terrible to watch. That storm has hurt so many people."
She was, of course, referring to Hurricane Sandy, or what some had coined it -- Frankenstorm. This storm had brutalized the East Coast, leaving a trail of devastation in it's wake. Millions were without electricity, and roughly fifty or more tragically lost their lives. It had been a topic of discussion in our house since it had first started. Oklahoma had felt the winds and some heavy rainfall, as had Georgia as is my understanding from when I phoned Mister Parker to check on his family. He told me that his and his wife's friends, Tony and Derrick who wrestled Mister Ward and Jordan Williams at the last supercard, came to stay at their ranch with Tony's children until things cleared up, as they called New York City home.
"Well take a break from it then." I suggested. "Pop in one of your 'Golden Girls' and have a laugh while Abigail torments me in the kitchen."
"Which would be a laugh in itself." Grams smiled and she moved back around to sit in the chair, not to turn on one of her movies but to continue watching the news. That was just her way, it seemed.
I turned and saw Abigail head back down the hall and toward the kitchen and I calmly followed her. No sooner did I set foot in the kitchen than I smelled something actually good, and if it were her prepared dinner, I would hazard a guess that her skill at this particular dish had improved greatly. A shame then that I wouldn't be able to sample it myself to see.
"Here." Abigail said softy, shutting the freezer door and holding out, of all things, a large Wendys Frosty, to me. "I ran there as soon as you left. Had a feeling it wouldn't be the best of news."
I smiled my thanks as I took it. There was no avoiding it. Leave it to my sister to find even the smallest of ways to take care of her big brother. I walked over to the sink and opened the cabinet door to the bottom where the garbage can was, and proceeded to pull all of the cotton from my mouth and threw it in with the refuse. I then grabbed the nearest spoon and proceeded to dive into the sweet treat that would also have the added benefit of numbing the area where my tooth had been.
I stood back against the counter and watched as my sister opened the oven door to check on dinner, and then she shut it and moved over to the cupboards. She glanced my way and asked, "So how is it?"
"Great." I said thickly, shoveling another spoonful of the frosted treat into my mouth. "How could it not be?"
Taking a large can of soup from the pantry, my dinner I assumed, she shook her head and said, "No, I mean your tooth, or what used to be your tooth. Does it still hurt?"
I nodded, "It will for awhile, I guess. Pain'll go away on it's own in a day or two. The other two that got knocked loose will fix themselves."
Abigail grabbed a can opener from a drawer and opened the can of soup while she continued with her train of thought, "Is that going to be safe? I mean, you said this match coming up had no rules. You two could do anything to each other. What'll happen if he hits you in the mouth?"
"Well, I'll probably either end up paying another visit to the dentist or they'll fly out all on their own, most likely." I answered as she dumped the soup into a sauce pan and set it on the stove. "Either way it'll work itself out."
"Not funny." Abigail said as she turned on the stove to heat my dinner and then turned around, taking a brief break while talking to me. "Maybe they'll let you cancel?"
I tilted my head and smiled at my sister's ignorance over the business side of wrestling. "Over a tooth ache?" I joked. "Come now, Abbey. I've seen men wrestle with busted ribs. Surely I can do the same with just a couple teeth loose."
"A match like that, you could get hurt." She did seem determined to voice her displeasure at the notion of my going into a match where absolutely anything could happen. "You just seem more hard edged about it lately."
I nodded, setting the half full cup on the counter beside me. I said, "I feel a little harder edged. Have ever since the show was over."
"This isn't about you, any more. is it?" She observed. "You've been talking about what happened to that boy ever since that show was over."
"You saw the match?" I asked. She nodded silently to confirm that she had and I sighed, "Then you saw what that bastard did to that boy?"
"I saw." She whispered. "So did Grams. She was, I guess 'horrified' is a pretty good way to describe her reaction."
I nodded and picked the Frosty back up and sighed, "That was pretty much how I felt too. That boy has ... problems. I don't know if his friends and family intend to do anything, but maybe they won't have to the way I'm feeling."
"Maybe not." I admitted. "It just feels like it. I just want to kick his condescending ass for doing that to him."
"You know what your problem is?" She asked, turning back to continue with our dinner preparations. "You feel as I you have to take the weight of the world's troubles on your shoulders. Now go keep Grams company. Dinner's almost ready."
"Yes, Ma." I joked and took my Frosty back into the living room and had a seat on the sofa to my Grandmother's left.
I leaned back into the cushions and turned my attentions to the scene on the screen, watching as the very location of the World Trade Center was flooded. I listened to a report on the millions living there, and how everything had been ground to a screeching halt. The subways were flooded. How were these brave people going to recover from such Hell?
"I was thinking of sending some money." Grandmother said softly, pulling me from my own thoughts. "There's a telethon that's going to air. I thought it might be nice if the three of us sent them something to do our part."
"A telethon, huh?" I nodded. I could donate as much as needed. I knew Abigail would, as would our Grandmother.
That was when an idea started to enter my mind.
"Do I really take the weight of the world's troubles on my shoulders, as my sister so eloquently pointed out? Who knows? I'm usually my own worst judge, but this is one case where I have decided to. This thing between Blaque Hart and myself has went on far enough to the point it's almost gotten tedious. We've had a couple of matches against one another, and each of us picked up a win against the other. The key difference is that while I got my win cleanly, he had to cheat to achieve his. Then we ended up in a couple of forced tag team matches, teaming up with each other. Yes, the one win we got was because of him. But might I also stress the fact that in our loss to the tag champions, he did no better than I?"
"And yet to hear this boastful buffoon talk, you'd think he could do no wrong. You'd think everything that has happened between us has been entirely in his favor. He talked big but what has he really accomplished here in Sin City Wrestling? Nothing, really. He's scored a respectable number of wins over quality opposition, including myself, but everything else he has fallen short on. Championship gold has eluded him so far, but that's none of his fault, not to hear him speak of it. No, of course not. The fact he has choked in every title encounter that he's been in is the fault of his opposition, or the staff of Sin City Wrestling themselves."
"Never his own fault."
"Well, Blaque Hart, the time for you laying blame on everyone else's door steps is at an end. I am so tired of listening to you run at the mouth, talking so much trash about the United States and yet not hesitating to swarm in here and cash your paychecks every chance you get. You seem to despise everything about America except for the money that lines your wallet."
"I've listened to you for so long, and by now it's gotten to the point where I just want to turn the sound off so I don't have to bother hearing you repeat yourself. I give you full credit. You knew what you were doing when you challenged me to this match. You knew that I had never been in a hardcore match before of any sort. You knew that it would put you at a decided advantage. Fine. I can admit that. But the fact is, Blaque Hart, is that I am tired of all of this false bravado that you put on, and I'm tired of the pain you inflict on others in your self fulfilling quest for greatness."
"What you did to Despayre was beyond disgusting, and yet you smiled. You actually found the mental anguish you put that kid through amusing! I hope to God his friends and family decide to turn your butt into mulch, but they're going to have to get in line after me if they want to do it. I was sickened by you using someone's fears against them like that without a care. I was sickened by the mere thought of what the after-effects of what you did. At first I was planning to just go into this match and wing it, as is the case for most hardcore matches. But your actions gave me a drive I didn't have before. Your cruelty is your own detriment."
"I avoided any form of hardcore match because of the simple fact that they are not 'wrestling', and they show no talent for skill or athleticism. They are just a cheap way to get a 'pop' from the crowd, and satisfy a modern lust for violence. You can't beat me cleanly, Evans. I already proved that. So now you have to have a situation where you can use a chair across my head or choke me out with a cable. That's fine, because you forget that these things you plan to do to me, I can also do to you."
"You just don't think I will. That will be your mistake, Blaque Hart. I might have had no intention before of doing this, but that's all out the window now, and by your own doing. I have had so many people refer to me as one of the nicest or more respectful men in this business. A distinction I appreciate, but I know that if I want to win this match -- heck, if I want to survive this match, I can't afford to be nice. I can't afford to respect you for being anything more than a leech who attaches itself to anything remotely successful in the hopes a little of that will rub off on itself."
"Because that is all you are, Blaque Hart. A leech. A common slug -- and I have no intention of being very nice to you."
