"You know, I've thought about this long and hard, and I can't help but feel that the timing of this match, my first in over two years, is perfect for this time of year. You might even say that it makes me feel like a bit of a kid again. You know what I am talking about, I'm sure. Christmas is just right around the corner and the children of the world look toward this one magical morning where they experience plenty. You know what you want, or at least you believe that you do, and you wish for it with all your heart. Ah but our mind, your mind is suggesting something altogether different. A part of you wonders if you will get what you believe is your heart's desire. Another part of you ponders if what you wished for is really, truly what you want. Looking back, you perhaps wonder if somewhere along the way, you made a mistake when wishing upon that star. When you sat on the lap of jolly ol' Saint Nick, did you tell him one thing when somewhere along the line, you realized you wanted another?"
"You might say that's the cross roads at where I am right about now. I've come to a fork in the road that I've been traveling along for the last two plus years, and I am looking both ways before I determine just which way is the way for me. Oh don't get me wrong. I wouldn't be where I am today had I not known it was what I wanted, but I think for me, the wonderment is whether or not what I wanted is what was best."
"A couple of years ago I was at the best of my game, at least that's what I believed at the time. I had held the Roulette Championship for a brief period of time, and a time or two I even competed for the Sin City Wrestling Heavyweight Championship. And although that prestigious title had yet to find its way around my waist, the simple fact that I had main evented a time or two, for both Climax Control as well as the inaugural Summer XXXTreme supercard gives me reason to believe that my career was heading in the right direction. Had I just pushed myself a little bit further, a little harder, I truly think that I would have made it to where I had most desired to be. Of course, that was before I made a few mistakes in my life."
"I've been graced in this business with good friends and friends who have become like family, brothers if you will. And for all they gave me, I had kept secrets from them purely for the sake of my own ego. I couldn't admit that I was hurt, and had been for quite some time, so I resorted to other measures to make it through the long nights, relatively pain free. I did so legally, contrary to what others had done on their own, but it made it no less shameful. To me, as well as those that I love most. I had so many people telling me that I was too nice to be in such a back stabbing business as professional wrestling. I had been described as being one of the more respectful competitors. I hear those things and it makes me feel proud, but it also makes me feel ashamed for what I had done, and what I had almost caused to happen due to simple ignorance."
"Now before I move on ahead, I hope you will indulge me and let me look back and share with you a few confessions from time to time. I had kept so much bottled up and away from those that have had my back for so many years. Think of this as a cleansing of the soul, if you will. After everything you all have done to support and wish me well, I think you all deserve to know the truth. Now you will forgive me if I go about this in a different way than I was usually accustomed. The memories are a bit foggy so I am relying on friends and family to help fill in the blanks. I have made several mistakes. What can I say?"
"I am only human."</color>
<Be>November 11, 2012
Mandalay Bay Events Center</Be></color>
Synn walks at a fast pace towards the ring and jumps up on the ring apron to a confused looking Blaque Hart. Blaque Hart steps towards Synn but before Synn or Blaque Hart can say anything, Synn nails Blaque Hart in the face with a jarring right hand.
<Be>Simone:</Be> Blaque Hart may need some dental work after that shot!
Blaque Hart stumbles back towards the center of the ring, Bo springs to his feet and wraps his arms around Blaque Hart and lifts him backwards, crashing Blaque Hart through the chair with a German suplex! Bo bridges, keeping Blaque Hart's shoulders down. Drew drops down to count
1...
2...
3!
Ding, ding, ding!
<Be>Justin:</Be> The winner of the match.... BO DREAMWOLF!
<Be>Adams:</Be> That's it! Bo wins and Blaque Hart has to leave SCW!
<Be>Simone:</Be> I won't be missing him.
Blaque Hart lays on the floor, staring out at Synn in shock as the realization sinks in of losing
<Be>Simone:</Be> Don't forget to turn the lights out on your way out Bruce! </color>
High Stakes II had been a commercial success for Sin City Wrestling. The building had been near to sold-out capacity, and not during a single match had the crowd been silent or chanted the ever-annoying 'bo-ring' that would seem to curse so many matches as of late in the major leagues.
It seemed almost a shame when the building had started to empty out. Such an evening it was! Several brand new champions would now reign in the SCW! The new Bombshell Champion in Amanda Cortez! The shocking achievement in James Huntington-Hawkes III winning the men's Roulette Championship! Becky 'Ragdoll' Jones and Jessie Salco winning the Bombshell Tag Team Championship! But above all, the main event highlight of the evening when Spike Staggs defeated the most dominant man in SCW, Nick Jones, for the SCW Heavyweight Championship!
But for the young man seated at the booth in the lobby bar of the Las Vegas Hilton, it was something even more. Bo Dreamwolf stepped completely out of his element when he participated in a Hardcore Rules match against his perennial rival in Blaque Hart Bruce Evans. Both men had scored victories over the other, and this was to be their final encounter inside of the ring -- literally. Blaque Hart had demanded that this match also be added on with the stipulation that the loser would be forced to leave Sin City Wrestling afterwards.
Bo had agreed. Austin Parker had tried to talk him out of it but it was one time that Bo's pride had over ruled his mentor's advice. The match was set and despite all misgivings, Bo fought hard and implemented the weapons available when he had no other alternative. Blaque Hart gave as well as he got, and the two alpha males brutalized each other to the point it seemed neither would walk away unscathed -- if either would be able to walk away at all.
Some might even say that Synn caused the loss on Blaque Hart's part. That might very well be true, but given that it was indeed Hardcore Rules where anything and everything was fair game, nothing could be said. The win was Bo's. The loss was Blaque Hart's. What would happen next in the camp of Bruce Evans was anyone's guess. The stipulation of 'Loser Leaves' was not in the legally binding contract, so would he be a man of his word? That would only be answered another day and at another time.
For now, there is a tale to be told where something long kept hidden would finally come to light.
"So, how's your gramma?" Brandi Shotze asked as she took a seat in the booth opposite of Bo in their shared booth, a beer in her hand.
"She's okay." Bo nodded. He himself had a glass of brandy in front of him, along with a shot glass empty of tequila that he had just downed before this buxom bombshell had returned from the bar. "I wish she and Abigail had been able to make it to the show but she came down with that cold and it just wasn't worth the risk of her getting even sicker."
Brandi nodded and took a large swallow of her beer and despite himself, Bo found the motion incredibly intriguing. His 'fear' of her aside, Bo had to admit that the shared amorous times that they shared with one another over the past number of weeks had been some of the most fun he had ever experienced. He had come to find the time they shared together to be very satisfying, and he had started to truly like her.
She said, "Yeah well, better safe than sorry. She probably watched the show on the computer or something with your sister."
"Yeah," Bo said. "I hate to think the fuss they'll make when they see me walking in, looking like Frankenstein."
"Frankenstein wishes he looked that good." Brandi muttered but with a wicked smile. "Perfect man my ass."
Bo looked up and wore an impish smile on his face as a flush of color tinted his cheeks. Try as he might, he simply was unable to grow accustomed to the flattery that this woman threw his way on his ... physical qualities? He reached over toward his drink and his hand brushed against the silverware wrapped tightly in a napkin, accidentally sending it to the floor.
"Damn." Bo muttered as he leaned over and immediately regretted the action as a searing pain shot up his side and enveloped the whole of his back. He bit back from crying out but the anguish on his facial expression alerted Brandi to his condition.
"What is it?" She asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Bo answered as he caught his breath and sat back upright and dropped the silverware back onto the table.
"Don't give me that shit." Brandi scolded the man. "Just because I got big tits doesn't make me a dumb ass! I saw your face. You're sweating like a pig and I haven't even touched you." She rested her forearm on the table and looked at him accusingly. "It's your back again, isn't it?"
"Among other things." Bo frowned as he picked up his glass and drained it. He clenched his eyes tightly as the burning sensation of the alcohol coursed down his throat. He took a moment's pause and then opened his eyes. "That match certainly didn't help."
It was then for the first time that Brandi really noticed the welts and bruises on Bo's head and arms, and she could see the padded sign of the bandages on his upper body through his shirt.
"So," Brandi started to say, resting her chin in the cup of her palm. "Should I assume this means you won't be up for tonight -- if you'll pardon the expression?"
"I'll be fine." Bo assured her. "I'll just take my meds and all will be right in the world."
"Sounds good!" Brandi said as she stood up and clapped Bo on the arm. "Then let's get moving. We'll have you back on your back in no time."
Whatever Bo had done, or more to the point, however he had 'performed', he must have done something right as Brandi awoke earlier than she intended, none the worse for wear from her evening spent drinking, but with a voracious appetite. Opting to let the man beside her sleep in for a bit longer, it's not like he hadn't earned it, she slipped out of the bed she shared with Bo and hit the shower, determined to wake herself up first, and then wake up 'Tonto' as she sometimes might refer to him as. There was a rather large breakfast buffet down in the lobby of this hotel and she intended to do some damage to it. Knowing Bo, he probably wouldn't have the stomach for as much of a morning meal as she did right now, without risking losing whatever he ate a half hour later. He just wasn't as much of a drinker as she was, but bless him, he tried and that's what counted!
Reaching for the knob (all boob jokes aside), Brandi turned the shower off and stood there for a moment, allowing the steam to remain wafting across her skin and along the shower tile. She then reached out through the shower curtains and grabbed blindly for the nearest towel hanging on the rack and pulled it free in order to give hr mist skin a brisk rubdown. She then whipped the now damp towel along her chestnut tresses to at least keep it from dripping everywhere and making more of a mess of he hotel room than she had already done last night.
Who knows? Maybe she shouldn't have tried playing "Ride `Em Cowboy' with the injun without warning him first?
Once satisfied she was at least moderately dried off, Brandi gave the damp towel a toss, and grabbed a fresh one and wrapped it around herself. Modesty aside, she was in fact, a lady. And if she could hear the half of you suppressing those snorts of laughter, she'd box your ears until they bled. She stepped out of the shower and then opened the bathroom door, and almost immediately her flesh was ignited with goose bumps as the cool air hit her warm, moist skin. She gave an involuntary shudder, Christ why did Bo always prefer sleeping with the god damn A/C on? She turned her head past the corner of the room where her clothes from the previous night were flung over the armrest of the chair by the bed's side. She instead opted for something fresh, and not so worn and walked over to where she had dropped her suitcase.
Jostling Bo's bare leg which had snaked its way from beneath the comforter of the bed, Brandi spoke aloud, "Bo. Wake up Sleeping Beauty." And she opened her luggage and started to rummage around for something to put on. She knew Bo would be headed back to his home in Oklahoma after breakfast, but she herself had plans for the rest of the day with Odette Ryder and Cookie S'Mores. She pulled out a tank top that didn't have any beer stains on it, or at least any that were detectable, and grabbed a pair of blue jeans. She turned to head back into the bathroom when she noticed that Bo hadn't stirred.
Christ, she silently mumbled to herself. She must have really done a number on the poor guy the previous night. She grabbed his shoulder and gave it a shake. "C'mon. Get up. I'm hungry and I ain't eatin' alone!" She gave another shake of his arm, then frowned.
Nothing.
"Bo?" She dropped the clothes to the floor, not caring if they got wrinkled and she grabbed a firmer hold on Bo's shoulder and gave him a harder shake. "Bo!"
Still nothing. Brandi started to breathe deeper, quickly, not knowing what the hell was going on but she knew enough to know that something simply wasn't right. She glanced at his chest and saw a rhythmic movement, or at least she thought she did. She then grabbed for his wrist and held her fingers to it. There was a pulse, thank God, but did it feel wrong, somehow? Weak? She was no expert and couldn't tell, but her face was now betraying the fear that was starting to swell in her already swollen bosom.
"Bo!" She gave him a hard shake once more with her one hand and cracked her other open palm across his cheek, trying to rouse him by any means necessary. "God damn it, Bo! Wake up!"
It was no use. He wouldn't wake up! Now uncaring for her modesty, Brandi ran for the hotel room door and looked around. The hall was empty, as all the wrestlers for SCW were probably sleeping off their previous night's celebrations! She saw a cart belonging to the hotel maids who would be working the floor, changing out sheets and such, but no maid in sight. She then hurried out of her room and ran for the first door she laid eyes on, and pounded heavily on it!
"Wake up! Help!" She called as she continued the heavy pounding. "I need some God damn help!"
She could hear noise elsewhere behind one of the other doors, but she knew who was behind this one and it was the reason she ran for this one first.
"God damn it!" She bellowed, pounding on the door. "Open the fuc..." But before she could finish her harrowing statement, the door was yanked open and a very disgruntled looking Austin Parker filled the door way, rubbing at his eyes with one hand and resting his forearm along the side of the frame.
"Jesus Christ!" He angrily seethed. "What the hell..." It was then he noted who was standing in front of him, and her attire, or relative lack there of! "Jesus, Mary and Joseph, girl! What the hell aren't you wearing!?" Was the first thing that came to Austin's mind, as opposed to his initial demands of what Brandi Shotze was doing pounding on his door.
"Bo won't wake up!" Brandi hollered, and she heard the tell-tale sound of one or more locks on the doors in the hall being undone. But she cared little for any disturbances she was causing at this early hour. She stared hard at Austin who was forcing the sleep from his system with her words like the shock of water in the face.
"What the hell are you talking...?" He started to say but Brandi grabbed his arm and dragged him the hard way from his hotel room, clad in just a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt.
"Bo!" She reiterated."I can't wake him up!"
And there it was, like a shot to the heart, when her words hit him exactly and Austin practically shoved her out of his way as he raced across the hall and right through the open door to Bo's and Brandi's shared hotel room. Brandi did not even pay no mind to the other sleepy yet curious faces as they poked from out of the door to see what was going on. She raced right after Austin, almost tripping and hitting the door frame in her haste but she righted herself and followed, finding Austin half on the bedside, shaking Bo as hard as he could.
Only then did she notice Bo starting to stir, but in an incredibly weakened state. He tried lifting his arm as if to roll over, but it was like when you laid on you own arm in bed and it fell asleep, and you were attempting without success to move it!
"Bo, c'mon boy." Austin did as Brandi attempted earlier, slapping him on the cheek with the palm of his hand, trying to rouse him. The fact he was beginning to show movement was a testament to his success, but it wasn't enough.
"What in flying fuck is going on!?" Their heads turned to spot none other than 'Hot Stuff' Mark ward standing in the door frame of the hotel, clad in just a pair of pajama pants, most likely hastily thrown on had he been sharing his bed with anyone, and he usually was. Mark looked particularly disgruntled at the bedlam of the noise being generated when he saw the situation in front of him and his healthy tan paled a shade lighter. "Oh bloody hell..." He muttered and hurried into the room, darting right past Brandi who seemed to be in shock.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Mark barked at Brandi. "Call the god damn desk and get an ambulance here!"
Mark's volume and tone snapped Brandi from her state and she quickly grabbed the hotel phone, tearing it from the receiver and started to dial frantically.
Mark then assisted Austin in pulling the barely coherent Bo up into a seated position when something on the bed stand attracted Ward's attention. He turned his eyes to cast a look and saw a bottle of pills, and recognized the prescription label for the pain killer, morphine. Next to it, an empty shot glass.
"Austin..." Mark said and he turned to look at Austin who was completely preoccupied with trying to help Bo. As big of a self-proclaimed bastard as he was, Austin thought the world of this young man he had trained for a career inside of the ring. A young man he watched over while on the road and sought to protect as if he were his own flesh and blood. And in many ways, that was exactly what he became over the course of time; like a son.
"Austin!" Mark hollered, finally getting parker's attention and with a nod of the head, Austin looked to where Mark was directing him and he too saw the evidence, and what had accidentally caused this state of emergency. Austin immediately shot Brandi a look that Mark felt would have roasted him alive had it been possible. Austin looked at Bo, seeing the sweat on his bare skin, skin that felt feverish to the touch.
"Son of a bitch..." Austin muttered then shifted himself, pulling Bo up against him and looked at Mark. "Move."
"What?"
"Move!" Austin commanded. "You ain't going to want to be near this!" And that being said, Austin used the hand of the arm draped around Bo's shoulder to hold the Native American's jaw open, and then, with his free hand, jammed his fingers into Bo's open mouth, causing the gag reflex. Bo gasped and came alert enough to struggle but Austin held him tightly and did it a second time, this time with the intended result as Bo lurched forward at the waist and got violently and physically sick on the carpeting of the hotel room floor!
"Fuck me!" Mark jumped back out of the way, and Brandi also cursed openly as she slammed the phone down.
Bo fell forward, and only Austin's strong arms kept him from suffering a hard fall on top of everything else. Austin threw the sheets from the bed on top of him to protect his modesty at the very least. Bo landed hard on his hands and knees and Austin dropped to his knees beside him, holding his shoulders as Bo continued to get sick.
"That's it boy." Austin said calmly, more calm than he truly felt at the time. "That's it. Get it out of yer system."</color>
"I'll be the first to admit that it wasn't one of my finer moments. In fact, it was probably the worst. I never felt more humiliated, or ashamed, than by having the men I look up to so highly stand there as I vomited up the contents of my stomach while I wallowed in my own self-misery. Mister Austin Parker, who stood by me since the very start and has supported me through every trial and error, both personally as well as professionally, that I have come across since I first set foot inside of that gym all those years ago. I can't thank him enough for everything he's done for me, and to have repaid him by nearly costing myself my own life. It's something I don't know if I'll ever be able to ask forgiveness for, let alone forgive myself. I could speak the same for Mister Ward, who gave me so many chances for the sole belief that he himself believed in me. He did not do these things to help build my career and push it forward because of Mister Parker who was his close friend. he did it because he trusted me. He believed with all his heart I was capable of everything he thought. And that was how I thanked him."
"Then there was Brandi, a woman whom I have grown quite fond of over the course of time, despite my best efforts to remain elusive. I freely admit that there were times her straight forward attitude scared the living hell out of me, but her self confidence I believe is what caused me to grow closer to her in admiration. She does not care what anyone thinks of her, and is unwilling to change herself to suit another's needs, as it should be. I understand what happened scared her to no end, although she might be difficult to admit such a thing."
"There is certainly more to tell, but for now I think what I've shared with you for now will suffice to explain why I had left so abruptly after that win. A win that could have propelled me forward once again into main event status. At least, this was all just a piece of the puzzle. The rest can wait for next time, because right now there are other things that need be addressed, namely this coming Sunday in Arizona, and the man that I will be setting foot inside of the ring against."
"Gavin Stephens is a man that I admittedly know little about, but what I have been able to look up and study has been nothing short of impressive. You've had a pretty successful go of things thus far in your career, Gavin, and that success has apparently elevated you onto a pedestal that nobody else but you, and perhaps your wife, believe you deserving to be set upon. Ironman Championship? While I really haven't the faintest clue what that particular title is all about, the fact that you held it is a testament enough to your capability inside of the ring. Winning a title, any title, in this profession is something to be proud of, but it's what you let that success do to you over the course of time that defines you as both as a professional as well as a man."
"I've held a title or two in my time. Here in Sin City Wrestling, I wore the Roulette Championship around my waist. I defeated none other than Lucian frost for that honor, and held it until I met Primetime Matthew Kennedy. Before that, in Global Championship Wrestling, I won the North American Championship, and was never defeated for that title until the time that promotion, most unfortunately, went belly up. That belt is still in my possession, Gavin, but you know what the key difference is between you and I? I'd like to think those titles made me more confident, while you? Your own success made you little more than a school yard bully."
"Yes. I've heard enough about your backstage mannerisms and how you treat both your peers as well as the men and women who work diligently to make SCW a success behind the scenes. You push and you threaten. You laugh at the intimidation factor that you inflict upon others that have little course to defend themselves, and you feel proud of yourself when doing so. Don't you, Gavin? You feel proud to stand over others such as the men who set up the ring, or the woman who does the makeup for the Bombshells. The staff who bring the ring jackets and robes from the ring to the backstage area, you take great pleasure in yelling at them, tripping them in front of crowds, and generally making their very existence a living hell to experience. That's alright. I imagine it works for you, because the fact of the matter is, you are a bully, and like all bullies, you have your strengths, as well as your weaknesses."
"Your strengths are, of course, your false sense of bravado when you find some tidbit of success behind your actions. For every victory you have inside of that ring, it just fulfills that purpose you have to take out all that anger you feel because Santa didn't bring you that yellow pony when you were just a little brat. You score a victory, and in your own mind, it elevates you higher and higher, until you are not just looking down at your peers in SCW, but the entire world around you. Of course, that's all you really have going for you. Your weakness is but one, really, and it's the very same weakness that every other bully on the face of God's green earth suffers from;"
"Fear of reprisal. You have no problem picking on people that are smaller than you, weaker than you, but once you find yourself up against someone bigger, badder and better, then that is an altogether different story. You don't like it when that person you just hit upside of the head hauls off and hits you back. You can't handle it when you realize that when inside of the ring, you not only have to be able to dish it out, but you discover that you sure as hell have to be able to take it! I may not be bigger than you, Gavin. Badder is debatable at the very least, but better? All false modesty aside, of that I am certain of."
"I will gladly shake your hand before this match, Gavin. I will even shake it afterwards if you're half the man I doubt you to be. But during? Well, I did not come back after all the hell that I've experienced, just to fail. I've been in this business a good deal longer than you. I've experienced more inside of that ring both here as well as across the ocean, and most importantly, I had, have, the finest teacher this sport has ever produced. I asked for this match, Gavin. I asked for my return to be against someone tough and promising, and Mister Ward did not fail me. The only one he failed, is you. Try all you might. Fight as hard as you have to, but in the long run, a school yard bully, deep down, is nothing more than a craven little coward, and when you find yourself flat on your back, yelling 'uncle', you'll do exactly what any other bully in your position would do."
"In your case, you're going to go running home to your wife, and try to find someone else that you can act the part of the big, bad man against."</color></size>
