[Watts]

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<Center>Journal Entry | Private
| December 7, 2014 |

”Tonight I step into the ring with Drexel Matheson. Mr. Hardcore himself, or whatever the hell he thinks he is. My confidence is at a sky high, there is nothing that is holding me back, and I have been feeling amazing all FUCKING week. I can not wait to get into that right. Drexel has no idea what is coming to him. If only he knew wha…

Fucking pen… ran out of ink...

There we go, about time I found another pen that works. You’d think by now that there would have been some kind of pen invented that didn’t run out of ink, you know? Or maybe one that had a charger that re-charged the ink so that you wouldn’t have to throw them out and look for a new one every time you ran out of ink… who knows, maybe it’s already invented. Ah anyways, so where was I? Yes, tonight… tonight I step into the ring with Drexel Matheson.This is the guy who excels in hardcore matches, seems to actually be the new trend around here from what I have seen. Apparently people are saying Drexel will have to "adjust" in order to face me in a singles match with rules. Honestly, I don't give a shit what he has to do, adjust, not adjust, fuck off, not fuck off... whatever he does, whatever he tries, it doesn't matter because at the end of the night, when the bell sounds... it will be me standing victorious and Drexel Matheson, well... he'll just be another nobody, just like they all are.”

“WOW! Talk about one hell of a fucking win tonight! No, no, no! Not because of who my opponent was or the so called hype about how good of a wrestler this guy is, and how brutal he is, and how good he was in his debut match against Lord A-Raab or whoever the hell he faced…. but because of the way I ended him! I mean has that even been done before? I have hit the Highlight from many different situations, many different variation, and many… many different angles. But, never in my career have I hit a Highlight on someone who was going for an elbow drop on me, while I was laying on my back. The fact that I somehow jumped up into the air from being flat on my back and managed to pull off the move in mid air and smash his face straight into the canvas? Well that not only impressed everyone in the arena, shit… that even impressed myself… and that is hard to do. I guess I can add Drexel to the list of victims, and to the light of those who have been Highlighted. It’s beginning to look nice, the list is getting bigger by the match…

Hydro
Drexel Matheson

Oh and there was one more, well one and a half more that took a fall in the victims column tonight. Wallace Jordan, little hillbilly, redneck idiot bot. He thought he was cool last week when he talked shit to me… he thought I was joking when I gave him the warning about me getting my hands on him… well, was I? I took that bitch out faster than Rain Man can multiply 57382 by 91182… and that’s pretty damn fast, I think. Wallace walked into the wrong door, he took the wrong road… and tonight he paid for it, so did his little cousin Clint Outlaw… and hopefully it was a message to the hillbilly family, because if it wasn’t … then there will only be more to come, much more.”


Scene One | Off Camera
| Destruction Begins |


Another Climax Control, another mother fucking success! I swear, as weeks went by, shit just got better and better for me and the crew… at least in my eyes they did. Clint Outlaw just didn’t have enough last week, clotheslining him out of his clothes must have not been enough, he wanted more, he wanted to sign his own early retirement papers, and he did just that. Clint Outlaw came out to the ring, and he trashed me, he called me all sorts of names, thinking it would bother me… and then, then he called me out to the ring to challenge me. I am not sure if this guy is just a straight up idiot with no brains, or if the alcohol got the better of him tonight. Because nobody in their right minds, especially a non-wrestler like himself, would do what he did tonight. Challenge Andrew Watts to a match? Challenge SCW’s newest, and hottest superstar in the ring, one on one. Clint Outlaw has some issues, and after next week, he is going to have even more issues, idiot.. straight up, idiots. I made my way backstage, walking past a few backstage workers, paying little to no attention to them. A few tried to get my attention, a few smiled, a few acted as if they didn’t know me… but me? I ignored them, all of them. They weren’t important to me.I snagged a water bottle off of a nearby water bottle table and popped the cap off, taking a quick swig of water, refreshing  myself after all of the talking I just did with the idiot redneck. I tossed the bottle to the ground as it rolled behind me, water pouring out of it. Someone will clean it up right? That’s what custodians and shit are for anyway. I approached my locker room, pausing for a second as I ran my hand back through my hair. I turned the handle and I pushed the door open, I noticed Alex Kaelin was standing in the middle of my locker room, what did he want? I walked into my locker room, Alex turning around to face me as I started conversation.

| Andrew Watts |
"Hey dude, what you doing in here?"

I ask as I push the door shut behind me, then turning my focus to Kaelin who looks back at me.

| Alex Kaelin |
"Can’t a guy just stop by and congratulate his friend?"

I arch an eyebrow, still staring his way.

| Andrew Watts |
"Congratulate me?  On what? I didn’t even have a match tonight, I mean unless you are referring to me getting challenged by that loser Clint Outlaw I guess I understand. It is a win in my book that I get to face that idiot in a match next week."

I smirk, walking over towards my gym bag, as I pull a white tanktop out of it, throwing it over my head as Kaelin replies.

| Alex Kaelin |
"Congratulate you on taking charge. You know, stirring the pot around this place... Taking Wallace out with a steel chair. Now you got a match with his cousin, this place needs someone to take out the trash."

I nod my head, Kaelin was always a smart guy… definitely the type of person someone could trust at their side. I throw the tank top over my torso as I turn my attention back to him.

| Andrew Watts |
"Thanks brotha, I am not doing it alone though… everyone knows you are right there with me, as well as Gavin and Mikah. Seems I am the one stuck with all of the hillbilly rednecks in  this place though, I mean seriously… how many of these idiots are there? It’s like we joined Inbred City Wrestling or some shit."

I crack a smirk towards Kaelin, as he pulls out a pack of smokes. He pulls a cigarette out of the pack and tucks it away in the corner of his mouth. Slowly putting the pack back in his pocket before taking his lighter out and lighting one up.

| Alex Kaelin |
"Well as long as you don't hear a banjo you should be just fine. Those cunts don’t seem that bright anyway. Eh, more than likely be added to the highlight list.. Or whatever the fuck you call that move of yours.”

I let out a light chuckle as I shake my head.

| Andrew Watts |
"Don’t act like you don’t know the name of it, bitch. At this rate, I am going to have to rename it the Redneck Slam or something. I mean, how many do we have so far? Clint Outlaw, Wallace Jordan, Peggy Sue or whatever that big breasted bimbo’s name is… who is the next hillbilly I am going to have to face? Bobby Dee? Jury Bob Dickson? Big Bob Kabob? Ellen DeGeneres?”

I say shaking my head with a look of frustration, can’t I face someone who can speak normally or at least not smell like arm pits that have never been deodorized? I look up at Kaelin who is laughing to himself. Shaking his head before taking another drag off his smoke.

| Alex Kaelin |
”Ellen isn't a hillbilly bro, just because she isn’t a heterosexual it doesn’t mean she is one of them.”

I arch an eyebrow in confusion… what the fuck is he talking about?

| Andrew Watts |
"Not a heterosexual? Exactly my point, that means she like fucks her cousins and shit right? Basically the same thing as these inbred idiots bro.”

I say shaking my head, why couldn’t everyone be as smart as me? Or… shit.

| Alex Kaelin |
”Bro, she is a drag king..”

| Andrew Watts |
"Drag king? I didn’t know she drag raced.. that is actually kind of cool…”

I couldn’t tell if he could tell I was busting his balls or not, but judging by the irritated sound in his voice he must have thought I was being serious and really didn’t know what all of these terms meant. He answered back in a bit of an angry tone, his eyes shooting open as he spoke.

| Alex Kaelin |
”BRO! She is a lesbian… SHE LIKES GIRLS!.”

I smirk, nodding my head… trying my hardest to hold back the laugh… oh, lesbian, that word always had a sexy ring to it.

| Andrew Watts |
"Lesbian? Fuck, that’s hot man...”

| Alex Kaelin |
”What the fuck.. Have you seen her?”

| Andrew Watts |
"Yeah I have seen…. OH…. OH! Damn, yeah… not hot… definitely not hot.”

I pause for a second, and we both let out a light laugh, I shake my head as I begin to speak again.

| Andrew Watts |
"Wait, how the fuck did we get from us dominating and cleaning out the trash of SCW… to the talk show host who looks like a little boy?”

I smirk as I lean back against the edge of the couch’s arm rest behind me. Alex let out a soft laugh and scratched his temple as he pondered the same thing.

| Alex Kaelin |
”I was going to ask myself the same fucking question..”

| Andrew Watts |
"Oh man, I can’t wait to beat the living hell out of that piece of shit Clint Outlaw… I am literally ripping that family apart one by one. Not going to lie though, I kind of want to hit Wallace Jordan’s wife… and I don’t mean that in an abusive way…”

I smirk as I run my hand back through my hair, letting out a light chuckle as Alex nods his head, looking back at me.

| Alex Kaelin |
”You sure about that? I mean she has had Wallace inside of her.. Hell, probably had her brother Clint Outlaw inside of her as well...Fucking hillbillys.”

I nod my head, this is true.

| Andrew Watts |
”True, them inbred fuckers just don’t give a fuck, they see a nice pair of tits and pass them around like the tray of turkey at the Thanksgiving Day dinner table. Enough about the hillbilly idiots though… what about you bro? You have such an easy Semi-Finals match for the Roulette Championship! Literally, all you have to do is just go in there and finish whatever I left of Drexel Matheson. I mean, he can’t have too much more in him after I destroyed him last week… now it’s on you to finish the job and cruise your way into the Championship match!”

I push off of the couch, standing up straight. Alex nodded his head in agreement, it was clear he didn't view Drexel Matheson as a threat.

| Alex Kaelin |
”Bro, I am going to Mexico for a week and when I get back I am going to beat the piss out of Drexel. Whatever is left of him they will have to scrape it up off the canvas and serve as roadkill to those hillbillies you’ve been dealing with..”

I nod my head in agreement, that’s exactly what we needed in this group… confidence, and Alex and I both had that, a lot of it… almost too much, as if there was such a thing.

| Andrew Watts |
”Amen to that dude… I can’t wait to see you make quick work of him, I’ll be finished and done with Clint Eastwood… ugh, I mean Travis Outlaw… fuck, whatever the fuck his name is… shit, when I am done with him he will have a harder time remembering his name than I am having right now. He made a bad mistake, you don’t cross a REJECT, you don’t call out a REJECT, and you sure as hell… do not piss off a REJECT. I think we have made that message pretty damn clear, and if we haven’t… well Drexel and Hillbilly Willy will be perfect examples of that.”

I take a step towards Kaelin, throwing my arm up for a high five as he slams his hand against mine, gripping it into a handshake as we bump out shoulders together. I nod my head at him as he looks back in confidence.

| Andrew Watts |
”I’m going to hit the showers, I actually almost broke a sweat when I was talking shit to that idiot hillbilly out there tonight. You take care in Mexico bro, don’t drink the water… and don’t knock up Krissy, but do make sure you give it to her good. Make sure she is calling you Papi by the time you guys get back.”

I slap his shoulder as we both have a quick laugh.

| Alex Kaelin |
”Hahaha, Yeah, she will be calling me Papi alright.. Actually, I’m pretty sure I wont be getting a tan down in Mexico. It will be a miracle if Krissy and I leave the hotel room at all. It’s gonna be a week of nonstop sex and bondage.. You ever tried that shit? I swear, fifty shades of grey should be mandatory for any woman to read.”

I arch an eyebrow..

| Andrew Watts |
”Wow bro, what the fuck? Don’t go turning soft on me, you almost sound like you are in love or something…”

I shake my head with a light chuckle as I walk towards my gym bag.

| Andrew Watts |
”Shit, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you came back engaged or some shit, seems like she has got you wrapped around her finger pretty good bro.”

I smirk, grabbing a pair of boxers, shorts, and a new tank top out of my gym bag as Kaelin talks while I get my shit ready.

| Alex Kaelin |
”Hahaha fuck you..She kinda worships me, it’s really nice. You uh.. Have fun with your little Air Head while I’m gone alright?”

I shake my head as I zip my bag back up, tossing it back on the couch and walking towards the bathroom.

| Andrew Watts |
”Oh you know I will… speaking of, I should call her… good thinking bro, good thinking."

I smile as I make my way into the bathroom and hear Kaelin exiting my locker room. I toss my clothes on the counter, pushing the door shut as I make my way for the shower, turning on the water as I make sure the temperature is right. I lean over the counter, my hands pressed against the edge, as I stare at myself in the mirror. I look into my own eyes, as if I was another person or something… I felt right, I missed this, I was finally back to myself, back to what I loved the most… back to being the best.


Journal Entry | Private
| December 14, 2014 |

”Tonight was another great night, this week was another great week, and this month was just turning out to be fucking amazing so far. I keep telling myself that I am not the type of person to write, not the type of person to keep a journal… but for some reason I find myself back here, more often than usual, and the weird part? I like it. I guess it is just something new, everyone finds new hobbies as they adjust in life, and maybe writing was a new hobby for  me. Go figure, if someone told me I would be writing in journal once, or multiple times a week I would have never believed them. But here I am, once again, at least once a week, writing in this thing. The pages were starting to fill up and my handwriting was even starting to improve, is starting to improve… whatever. Past tense, present tense, I guess I wasn’t exactly the SMARTEST writer, but who gives a shit right? This is basically for myself to keep and reread and my grammar and spelling? Not exactly the main focus of me, Andrew Watts. I am smart in many areas, important areas, the areas that I need to be smart in. Anyways, about this week, about tonight… where to even start?”

“My workouts are getting better, my sparring is at the best it has ever been, and my athletic ability is just through the roof. I haven’t felt this good in… well ever, not to mention that this new piece of ass I have been around lately has been well… perfect honestly. And to top things off? Tonight I got challenged by another redneck. First we had the idiot Wallace Jordan running around, beating his chest, beating his dick, and probably beating his wife too… talking about how he wanted someone to have a great match with, how he was wondering why he wasn’t booked on the biggest so called show in the history of SCW and well…. I did exactly what I told him I would do. I shut him the fuck up! I smashed him in with that steel chair and he loved it, I mean… I loved it. I could literally see his wife’s nipples poking through her shirt as she watched a REAL MAN beat the hell out of her chump of a husband… and his cousin? Well that idiot made the wrong decision of calling me out. Now I find myself getting ready to go head to head against cousin Clint in some type of hardcore or no holds barred match, shit… I guess this dude really never wants to be able to live his life normally again. I can’t wait, I can not wait to get my hands on Clint Outlaw. He is mad because I insulted his bimbo sister? Well, he is going to be even more mad after I embarrass him in front of her, and she realizes what a chump he is and stops giving him that incest inbred sex that he loves… I am going to tear this family apart...and I am going to do it one… by one. I don’t know how I want 4 and a half years without stepping into the ring, because dammit… I fucking missed this.”


Scene Two | On Camera
| Inbred City |


Ugh, why did we have to do these things? I mean it wasn’t exactly a requirement, but the company says that we will get bonuses and it is well encouraged that we appear on camera at some point to “hype up” our match. Problem with this one is, how the hell do you hype up a match when your opponent is nothing but a complete dud? This guy isn’t a wrestler, he isn’t interesting, the fans don’t cheer for him, the guys in the back don’t care for him, what the fuck is there to hype? I mean I guess I could go out and talk about how bad he smells, how he never showers, the fact that you can smell the alcohol on his breath from across the ring, or maybe the fact that he eats his sister’s ass on a daily basis. Inbred rednecks are not something that people want to see, the only place they actually are half decent in is maybe a horror movie or something… but in a wrestling ring? That is where real talent should perform, not guys like Wallace Jordan and Clint Outlaw… and definitely not Peggy Sue, unless there is a dildo involved and she is naked with them big moon balloons out for everyone to get a nice view.

Ouch…

I bumped into something as I made my way through the dark arena. There was no show tonight, there was nothing going on, and I probably wasn’t even supposed to be in the building right now, but I know a guy… who knows a guy… who knows a girl, who I fucked… who knows a guy… who got me into the building no problem. He just said to try and not turn on too many lights, problem with that? I couldn’t find any lights. I made my way to the entrance stage, there was a camera set up in the ring for me, just as I asked him… hopefully it had a flash, because well… there wasn’t much light here. I slowly walked down the entrance ramp, using my iPhone flashlight app so that I can actually see where I was walking. I hopped up onto the apron, as I entered the ring through the middle rope and made my way to the camera which was sitting near the ropes, on a four foot stand. I began to play around with it, how the hell do I even get this thing to work?

Click…

Okay, that sounded good… I think I did something. Yep! I noticed a red light flashing with the letters R - E - C flashing in are font as well. I nodded my head as I took a few steps away, walking towards the center of the ring slowly, my back to the camera as it recorded me. I was dressed casually; a pair of black Adidas sports pants, with white double lines going up the side of each leg, and a black REJECT cut off t-shirt with the word REJECT in a white font across the chest. I ran my hand back through my hair as I walked a few more steps, across the ring and turned around, leaning back against the opposite ring ropes as I stared forward at the camera that was across from me. I sighed, taking a deep breath, swirling my lips as I began to speak… I hated this, but… I guess at the same time I kind of enjoyed it, or something.

| Andrew Watts |
”It all started three weeks ago, give or take a few days. I believe the date was November, 30th… and the show was Climax Control, the 100th edition of it, the biggest show of them all… or so some called it at least. I had the week off, but Mark Ward asked me if I could be present at the arena since it was such a big show for the company, as much as I really didn’t want to be here on a day off… I came anyways. I figured I would just take a stroll backstage, hangout in my locker room, see the other REJECTS, maybe stare at the Rocky Mountains a bit… you know, all of the fun stuff. So I actually decided to pay some attention to the show. I sat down on the couch in my locker room and flicked on the TV to watch the live feed of the show, and well...right when I turned it on, there was some cowboy like looking guy walking to the ring. I had never really seen him before, he didn’t strike a resemblance or anything really. But something about him just, annoyed the fuck out of me. I mean, I am not the biggest fan of people to begin with, but I just couldn’t stand this guy’s face. I wanted to punch it through the TV, my TV literally started doing some crazy shit too, I think it wasn’t a fan of him being on it either, who could blame the thing right?”

I smirk confidently as I continue to lean back against the ring ropes, staring forward at the camera that was still recording. I took a few breathes, lifting my hand up to my chin as I rubbed the bottom of my chin, before continuing to talk about the night from three weeks ago.

| Andrew Watts |
”So this guy finally gets in the ring, and my volume was at a decent level, and unfortunately I had to listen to him, it made everything about 100 times worse, it really did. This guy’s voice, his accent, it made me hate him even more...I just wanted to beat the hell out of this guy, and I didn’t even know him… yet. So this guy starts talking, and about the stupidest, most idiotic shit...it literally made like zero sense to me. He came out here running his mouth; Talking about how he is some resident Wild Man, talking about how the people and the fans in Vegas are so rude nad what not... talking about how he was sitting at a table and took a crap or something, and some guy was calling him Grizzly Adams... honestly I was lost, and almost feeling ashamed to be in the same company as a guy like this, seriously who the fuck signed this guy's contract? Good job, very good job... anyways, so he continued! He started talking about people sending him emails and calling him a jobber, complaining how his opponent bit him the week before, and then he was complaining why the Wild Man was left off of the card of the so called biggest show in the history of SCW... and then I had enough. I got my ass out of my locker room and made my way out to the ring, because there was no way I was going to sit there any longer and listen to this loud, annoying, ugly ass hillbilly ruin the show even more.”

I put both of my arms up on the top rope as I spread them out, stretching my shoulders and upper back as I take a break from talking for a second, taking a deep breath before I continue speaking… again.

| Andrew Watts |
”So I make my way out here, and I see this guy in person… even uglier than you would think honestly, I was a bit scared, and shocked… and scared. I basically told him that he needed to shut up, I told him I had heard enough of his shit, and I was pretty sure that the fans were falling asleep and leaving the arena because of him. He went on to say the whole "who are you" act, acting as if he didn't know who I was, and then in the same sentence he basically contradicted himself by saying that I am a huge shit talker... if he doesn't know me then how does he seem to know so much about me? That's because Wallace is just another bitch, he told me he never backs down and he wanted to face me right then and there, but I wasn't dressed, I was tired, and he smelled pretty bad too, so I wasn't really for it at that exact time. But I did do something... I made Wallacea promise, I promised him that he would regret the way he talked to me and oh... did I keep up on my end of the promise? I think I did...”

I give a cocky grin, running my hand across the bottom of my chin again, stupid razor burn… I guess I deserve that for trying to shave quick, and without shaving cream. I nod my head as I continue what I was saying.

| Andrew Watts |
”Fast forward, now… the next week, two weeks ago. Climax Control 101! It was great, I beat the fuck out of Drexel Matheson, the REJECTS made our debut and oh… one more thing, oh yeah, the important part, I kept my promise. Wallace thought he was going to go out there and be in the opening round of a match for the tournament that will determine the next SCW Roulette Champion, well Wallace was wrong. His opponent made his way to the ring, I forget his name... Chris Shitman I believe? Anyways I watched Shitman walk to the ring, nothing special either... your typical boring entrance, and then the poor crowd thought they were going to have to see a long, boring Wallace Jordan match. I would like to quote Justin De... Justin Dec... that ring announcer guy, I'd like to quote him... it went something like "Making his way to the ring, being accompanied to the ring by Peggy Sue and Clint Outlaw, from Country Boy Paradise, weighing around two hundred and thirty four..." BAM! The bam wasn't said by the announcer, but it was heard throughout the arena. Because the bam was the steel chair that I held, smashing straight into the back of Wallace Hillbilly Jordan! Wallace fell to the ground and the big tit bimbo let out a scream like the dick accidentally slipped from her pussy to her ass. Wallace fell to the ground and before he could even try to get up, BAM! Wallace at the chair once more... sending his ass straight to the ground, where it should have been. Then Titty Sue and Cunt Outlaw tried to approach me, thinking that I would back away or something... but I was ready and willing to take out either one of them as well, and Cunt learned that the hard way when I clotheslined him so hard that he flipped in mid air! Let's not forget the DDT that Wallace took that night, busting him open as his head bounced off of the beautiful steel of that chair, cutting his forehead and forcing his redneck inbred diseased blood to drain from his wound. Wallace laid there like the little bitch that he is, Clint right next to him and his bimbo wife could only watch, wishing that her husband was half of the man that I am... wishing that her husband wasn't so pathetic... and deep down inside, we all know she was wishing, well... that I was inside, if you catch what I am saying there. ”

I smirk confidently, pushing myself off of the ropes as I stand up straight, adjusting the bottom of my shirt a bit, pulling it down as I turn my focus back to the camera, taking a breath after pausing for a short moment, and then continuing. The tone of my voice staying the same, as if I was telling some kind of boring story about the inbred idiots of SCW.

| Andrew Watts |
”So then last week, a week after all of that went down… just when I thought I had finally shut up the inbred family, just when I thought I was done with redneck hillbillies and wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore… what the fuck happens? This idiot cousin of Jordan’s comes out to the ring. CLINT Outlaw, there you go… I actually called you by your name so you don’t go crying to the big bosses, not like they’d give a shit… probably fire you for being intoxicated. Speaking of, are you even employed here? Or do you just fucking think you are? I think security should look into that next time you step into the ring… then again, next time you step into the ring will also be the last time because, well… your dumb ass challenged me last week at Climax Control 102. And boy, that was the dumbest thing you could have ever done. You claim you can wrestle, you claim you can fight, and you claim you love when the rule book is thrown out the window… well buddy, do you realize exactly what you agreed to last week? You didn’t agree to a match with just anyone, you didn’t agree to a guy who will beat you down and then pin you and move on. No Clint, you agreed to much… much more. Do you have any idea what I am going to do to you next week Clint? Do you? DO YOU?!”

I walk towards the camera, getting about as close as I can, my face about half a foot from it, I don’t want to make out with the camera, but I do want a close up of this gorgeous face… especially when I am talking about what is about to go down. The tone of my voice changes a bit, getting a bit more violent, deeper, darker. I finish my sentence.

| Andrew Watts |
”Not only am I going to Highlight you. Clint, I am going to FINISH you Wallace, let this be a message to you, to show you why you should never… EVER… mess with the REJECT.”

I shake my head as I place my hand over the camera lens. I wonder how much this camera costs? SCW pays big bucks for this shit right? Well, I don’t really give a fuck. I push the camera backwards off of the stand as it crashes down against the canvas and then rolls right off of the apron and smashes against the outside arena floor. I suppose I could have just hit the “power off” button… but then again, why would I do it the normal way? I am a REJECT, right? Right…

Climax…





   
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