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The Aftermath
#NP "So Cold" by Breaking Benjamin
Locale: Eureka Municipal Auditorium; Eureka, California
The show must go on, it would seem. My son and I left it all on the mat, and we put on one hell of a match together. Credit is most certainly due to Lucy Seraphina and Amanda Cortez for putting on one wicked display, but the world was on fire the moment I stepped through those curtains, and everyone felt that heat. My own son was the only person who knew that I was behind that mask, and not even then was he certain. I'd like to think that we stole the show, but reality settles in as I watch everything going on around us. Camera crews are on the hunt for a new story to cover. Ring technicians are getting things cleaned up for the next match to begin, and we are simply two guppies in the pond, swimming against the current. Literally no one bats an eyelash at the two of us. I had this image of coming back to the show, and proving everything that I had thought about my relationship with this company wrong, but all it had done was solidify why I left in the first place. It proves validity as to why Misty felt the need to return each time after she retired. No one gets that more than I do, especially now.
But, the more painstaken detail is seeing the look on my son's face. He had always mentioned that one day, he wanted to do battle with me, and he got his wish. Granted, it didn't turn out the way he had hoped, and there is a part of me that wishes I had pushed things in his favor a bit. No parent likes to see their child disappointed, but I stand by the fact that it would have been a major disservice to him to hand him an undeserved victory. But the pain on his face is beyond that of the outcome of our match. He just put on one of his best matches to date, and not a single person noticed. Not a one approaches him to tell him what a great job he did out there. I remember those days all too well, so they hit a little bit closer to home than one might imagine.
I wrap an arm around him as we approach the Nobodies locker room. I look to him, and the worry in my eyes must be showing, because he immediately pulls out from under my arm and he stares right into my eyes.
Tim: Don't worry. They won't tear you to shreds in there. Truth be told, I don't think any of them even like me anymore. Not that I give a shit at this point.
Me: Truth be told, I don't care what three little girls think of me. Not enough to stop me from facing them, anyway. I'm more concerned about you. I'm worried because you have been starting to go down the same road you went down when you were friends with that douche, Johnny Tsunami, and Liz Smalls.
Tim stares at me, but there is an air of uncaring there. Behind that mask, there is an extreme fear, anxiety, worry, self doubt, and anger that forms what is apparently an explosive emotional maltov cocktail.
Tim: You don't even know the half of it! I've done things that would make you cringe, and that's just since losing the tag titles, and Connor as a friend.
Me: You have not lost him as a friend. Sometimes people just need a bit of space to breathe.
Tim: I'm going fucking crazy, dad! It's no secret that I slept with my Blast From the Past partner, and her wife, and we did some things I may never get over. Degrading, hot, self loathing, wonderful things! I'm tattooed as Rose's "Bad Boy" for life! Right there on my left ass cheek!
Without me needing visual proof, Tim pulls down the back of his tights and flashes his newest piece of body art. It's such a plain font choice, even for a prison style tattoo, but that was the last thing I needed to see at this point. I turn my head and let out a disgusted grunt, shielding my eyes.
Tim: And now Celeste is mad at me, because she facilitated something between her boyfriend and I, and then when it actually happened, she blew up about loyalty and some other bullshit! I'm not playing a victim... not since leaving Amanda's dungeon at least, but why would you dangle a carrot in front of a rabbit, and then get pissed when the rabbit fucks the carrot?!
Me: Ohhhhkay... I know I've always been one for promoting total honesty, and that is my mistake. Some things are better left unsaid, because I can't unhear that. As much as I wish I could... I can't. Not that I am one to judge, because I've experimented many times in life, but a father just doesn't need to hear about his child's sexual escapades.
My mild indifference to Tim's honestly surprising sexual preferences almost seems to shock, yet underwhelm, my son. He seems as if he's unsure of how to continue, while maintaining the fiery emotional explosion. He almost seems aggravated that I'm not upset about his bi-curious exploration, so he turns away from me.
Me: I'm not going to look down on you for choices concerning your sexuality, so long as you play safe. I don't necessarily want to hear about them, as you're my child, but I'm more than happy to lend an ear for advice. I just don't want you to feel like you have to work your way through this without any sort of guidance, son.
Tim: I don't need to hold your hand while I'm having sex. I'll be 18 in just a few weeks now, and truth be told, I lost my virginity back in Japan. This isn't new territory for me... well, Chad was, but in general? No. I just don't feel comfortable in my own skin right now, and I know that won't change until I find it in myself to change. I just can't seem to get someone else off of my mind.
Me: Alexis?
I ask in a horrified manner, though I know I don't even need to ask. She has dragged his heart through the mud for as long as I've known of her existence. Since the day I walked in and found her crashing on the couch in my office at Staggs Dungeon, as a matter of fact. I stare at Tim as he nods his head.
Me: Look, I know this won't do a damn bit of good, because it didn't stop me from pining after your mother... but everyone warned me that she was trouble. Everyone told me that she would drag me down, and that I would never rebound from the damage she would do to me. Granted, I did my own damage in return, but I didn't listen. She was like a wildfire that just swept me up, and for the longest time, I enjoyed the burn. I just didn't realize that I was also a wildfire. We burned together, until we caused explosions, and our flames separated. We were not good for one another, and unfortunately, you had to feel the burn as well. Alexis is your mother in so many ways.
Tim: Yeah, but I'm not you, dad. I'm not Roxanne, either. Alexis might not be good for me, but that doesn't stop my heart from wanting her. But, since that just isn't going to happen, I'm going to live my life, and I'm going to set it all on fire.
Me: You aren't me. You're right. But do you realize that you sound exactly like me at your age?
Tim goes to speak, when the Nobodies step out from the janitors closet we had been using for privacy. Tessa stops and stares at me, as Celeste avoids looking at Tim. Alexis looks right at him, though it is clear that she hadn't heard anything Tim just said about her. Celeste leans in and whispers to Alexis, who doesn't seem phased by her words at all.
Tessa: What'er ye two doing out here gabbing all private like?
Celeste: If I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with fucking boyfriends?
Alexis stares out of the corner of her eye at Celeste, an obvious look of surprise comes over her face. However, there is no confusion on what Celeste meant as Alexis tries her best to shake it off. She looks to me, seeing that I'm about ready to explode on Celeste, so she quickly changes the subject before Tim and Celeste have a chance to look to one another to start a war.
Alexis: That match was fuckin' awesome, guys. I swore that Tim had it a few times there.
Me: He did a wonderful job out there.
Celeste: Oh? I didn't even notice, what with getting his ass kicked by a legend and all.
Tim: If you need references on any "jobs" I do, why don't you ask Chad? He might tell you that I... blow...
Tim smiles as Celeste rolls her eyes. I step up between the two of them, and I give both of them a firm push apart. I look to each of them with a stern father look that I instantly wish I hadn't done. While I'm worrying about rewinding the dad look, I do something even worse.
Me: KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF!!!
Tim: Yeah, C...
Me: BOTH OF YOU!!!
Tim quickly zips it up as I stare directly at him. I then turn to give the ever defiant Celeste a look. Neither one of them says a word, and while I regret intervening, it is too late to turn back now, because it's already begun.
Me: As a matter of fact, why don't the four of you shut the hell up and listen to me. I don't mean stare at me with contempt, Tessa and Alexis. I mean drink in the knowledge I'm about to drop on you.
I stare to Alexis who crosses her arms over her chest as Tessa holds her hands up in a dramatic surrender.
Me: I was the original Nobody before most of you had your first long term memory. I am the Underdog Story. I went through everything that you guys are going through right now, and then some. And do you know what happened?
Alexis: You sold out to "Hot Stuff" Mark Ward?
Me: Yes, but you are too far ahead of that. I formed a group, much like this little one... except much less vagina. People came, and people left. The parallels are great in numbers. But, the second we all actually got on the same page, and stopped fighting over petty bullshit like someone fucking someone else's boyfriend, who they were trying to get rid of anyway... we actually accomplished things. I'm not talking about championships. I'm talking about getting noticed, and appreciated, to the point that, yeah, someone like Mark Ward Junior noticed my potential, and gave me a platform to go on to bigger and brighter things. I became a Somebody, not only because of myself, but because my stable mates and I weren't at each other's throats constantly. We worked together as a cohesive unit, and that is something that you guys have yet to do. So I suggest that you four work out whatever issues you have with one another, or at least find a way to choke them back to help each other instead of hindering. That's how you become a Somebody... Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to take Tim to an emergency clinic to get tested after his training sessions with Amanda...
I pull Tim by the arm as we walk away from the three ladies, and they all look to one another, stunned at what they are hearing. Tim doesn't protest, though he does give me a dirty look as we head toward the Men's locker room to collect our things.
The Natural Order
#NP "Alive" by Nekromantix
Locale: Tucson, Arizona; Location unknown
Walking through the streets of Tucson at night is a much more tame time than walking the streets of Vegas. Some might even say that we are in the middle of nowhere. Despite the smaller demographic than I'm used to, there are plenty of similarities. Such as the woman standing on the corner of the street, smoking a cigarette, and dressed in clothes that shouldn't be worn for another month or two out of respect for the seasons. If she were in Vegas, she would be wearing some kind of small mini skirt, with a sequin top. The costume is different, but the intent is the same. She is a predator, seeking her next meal. She watches the streets like a hawk, and each passing car could be her ticket. One approaches, and little does she know, this duo of wolves is also in search of their next meal. The skeezy look matches those in Vegas to a point, the trucker hats, dirty blue jeans, and unkempt hair and facial hair. There is something different about these men. The wolves have devious intentions, though the degree of which may vary. She gets in the car, and aside from the two wolves in hillbilly clothing, I just might be the last person to see the hawk alive. It's a gamble one takes in the urban jungles. The concrete dwellings might replace the foliage, but the rules are always the same. Stay alive for as long as you can.
As I watch the tail lights fade on the beat up car, I turn to see another specimen. One that is much less aware of the dangers surrounding them. There is a stray cub, no more than fifteen years of age. He is seated on the sidewalk, covered by a piece of cardboard that reads "Will work for food". A man dressed in a Mr. Rogers cardigan and slacks, approaches him, likely with false promises of his next meal. But what I see in the urban jungle, is a serpant, with devious intents of his own. He leans down and whispers to the young man, but one can only imagine what tempting words of pure venom drip from his eager fangs. The boy gets up from his spot on the sidewalk, and readies himself for his next job, which just might take away everything.
This is when the anamoly enters the equation. The wild card. The factor that no one can count on as a certainty. I walk over to the two, and I stare right at the snake, my very own dead eyes glaring right at him as I step between them. I notice something dead in his eyes as well, though the deviant thoughts are almost too much for even me to take. I reach into my pocket and pull out a fifty dollar bill. I turn to the kid, and I place it into his cupped hand, unexpectedly. The man turns me around and tries not to cause too much of a scene as he speaks to me.
Snake: Hey man, what do you think you're doing? Go get your own...
I'm sickened to my core. I understand desire better than the next man, but this is nothing by comparison. I scoff at the man, shaking my head as I turn back to the boy, who cuts me off before I have a chance to speak.
Cub: What do I gotta do for this, sir?
Me: You have to go down the street to the diner, eat and drink to your heart's content, and find somewhere off the streets to sleep tonight. It's not safe here anymore.
The boy nods his head as he stares at the snake, his plans now foiled. He looks angry with me, but because of my size, he makes no attempts to get physical with me. Though, we gaze upon one another as if we were the next meal, following a grueling battle to the death. The cub scampers off as the snake is struck with the realization that I was not after the boy, but instead, after him. He slowly backs up, but I do not relent. I have a Punisher Complex tonight, and I'm not going to stop until this scum bag has learned his lesson. I stalk forward as he chuckles nervously.
Snake: I, uh... needed my lawn mowed, and...
Me: At 11:30 at night? The noise pollution laws must be different than where I'm from.
Snake: He was obviously homeless, and I have a spare bedroom for him to get a good nights rest.
I wink at him and click my teeth as he continues to back up. Anxiety takes over his face as he quickens his backward pace. I know I don't need to quicken mine, because I am the most fierce warrior of the urban jungle. I seek justice, as well as my next meal. I am man, the true king of the concrete forest. I don't need to use fear tactics, because his fear is already real enough.
Me: As a man with a son not much older than that kid, I find predators like you to be the lowest form of humanity.
He trips over a trash bin on the sidewalk, and I hover over him as he tries to slither away on his ass and hands. However, I grab onto his throat and I stare down at him as I begin to tighten my grip. I see the reflection of myself in his glossy eyes, and it's a look I haven't seen in ages. My teeth are gritted, and I'm shaking with rage and anticipation for his lights to go out completely. The smile on my face almost makes me sick for a moment, but the moment quickly passes.
Me: The world would be better off without your kind, preying on children because you aren't beast enough to admit to yourself exactly what you are. You can't man up to take on the other creatures of the night, so you ruin children instead... heh, well not today, Satan...
Lights approach us, and I quickly turn. Like a chameleon, my smile changes to that of a helpful one as the police car comes over to us, slowing down as they shine a light on us. I laugh it off as I only turn to face them, blinded by their spotlight.
Officer: Is there a problem, gentlemen?
Me: None at all, officer. This man tripped on the sidewalk, and I was just trying to help him up.
The officer shines his light over to the man who is catching his breath. I can see the steel blue eyes, searching over the man, and waiting for the truth to come out. Luckily, I retained memory of my old ventriloquist act from grade school, and I speak to him without moving my lips at all.
Me: If you tell him what happened, so will I... the whole story.
The snake nods his head as I grab onto his arm to jerk him up almost violently. He finishes catching his breath, and then forces a smile onto his face to convince the officer.
Snake: Yes, officer. I've just been a bit clumsy tonight. But I have a feeling that this won't ever happen again.
Me: It better not, right? It would be a shame to have your knee caps shattered from another slip...
The officer sighs and rolls his eyes, taking off slowly again. As he turns the corner, I bury my knee into the pit of the snake's stomach. He doubles back over in pain as I walk off, leaving him to his own tortured memories. Just outside of the slightly urban cityscape of Tucson, I find a hill, the grass as artificial as the idea that grass could even possibly grow naturally in this region. The plastic feels almost realistic, minus the mosquitoes in search of their next fix. I sit there, and watch the city. Despite not having much going on by comparison to Las Vegas, I seem to be able to hone in on more here. The faint gunshot that I would have taken for granted in Vegas. The echoing scream of drunken delight from the girls leaving the bar. Every little noise seems much more crisp here, and the inner workings of the jungle are more clearly heard.
Me: You know... there is a natural order to things. It is, well, the nature of it all. Every creature is one of habit, and form. We all take to our niche in life, and we don't ever question it. Only those who do, are destined for great things.
I stare out as the lights of the city slowly start to die down. This is something else that Tucson has on Vegas. Smaller numbers of predators, and the shadow of the night as a blanket for the dirtiest of deeds. As the city tucks itself in for bed, I stare at it all, a cigarette between my lips. The glowing ember lights up my face with each drag I take.
Me: I have never been one for complacent thought. I do not accept the reality of what is placed in front of me. By natural law, man is not at the top of the food chain, as we would like ourselves to believe. There is no food chain. There is only the circle of life. We are born, we consume, we grow, we deteriorate, we die, and we become fertilizer for another organism to continue on with the same process. There is no true rhyme or reason to what is going on. The mightiest of beasts can be taken down by the tiniest, simplest of organisms. It happens every day.
The near silence is almost deafening to me, taken over by only the sound of cars driving up the hill to pass me by.
Me: This is why I do not take my opponent this week for granted. CJ Sharpe is a mere single celled oranism in the SCW Animal Kingdom. While I would like to deny it, I am the elderly wolf, who is standing on his last leg. Sure, I appear to be big, and bad. I've done some pretty sickening things in my time, and I've earned the respect of most of the pups running around this place, as well as my peers. On paper, this should be an easy match for me. I should walk in, stomp CJ out, and continue on in the tournament. Though, in my years of great wisdom, I can't say that with any kind of certainty at all. Last week, I was the wild card, but this week? CJ is a complete unknown to me. For all I know, he could be the next... me. Is that arrogant sounding? Good...
I take another drag from my cigarette, finishing it off before flicking it out into the street, very non chalant.
Me: CJ Sharpe could be the next phenomena, and he could be waiting for the perfect opportunity to take down the weakened beast with the highest of decoration. He might go into that ring and destroy and embarrass me, the way Andrew Watts did to my uncle in last year's tournament, in the second round no less. Who knows? It could very well happen. Though, logic tells us that I could just as easily walk into the ring on Sunday, smash him to pieces, and win the match within seconds. That will likely be the outcome, but it is due in part to not thinking that it will. No one should go into a match expecting to win, and listing off their accomplishments as a way of convincing themselves why they are going to win. List them as honor, not that you held the titles, but that you were part of something much bigger than yourself, building it up. What has CJ done here in SCW? I couldn't honestly tell you, because I have not paid an ounce of attention. It is the order of things around here. I pay attention to that which is necessary, and I never viewed CJ Sharpe as "necessary". No one is perfect, myself included.
I reach into my pocket and pull out another cigarette from my pack. I place it between my lips, and just savor the cool touch on my lips.
Me: This match isn't so simple, of course. It isn't just about me. It is about Lucy Seraphina and Kate Steele. Both ladies have their accomplishments, but on paper, Kate has the advantage of being a champion. She is the Bombshell Roulette Champion, currently reigning. Kate is a beast all her own.
I size up my cigarette for a moment before I light it up. Taking one harsh drag, I pause and shake my head.
Me: I've come to realize that people don't remember anything in this business past two weeks. Kate just won the belt. Lucy held a belt of higher tier. She defeated Amy Marshall to get that honor, a woman who I consider a dear friend, and a woman who is no laughing matter. She is the only Bombshell to Grand Slam all four title, and Lucy found it in her to best Amy. Lucy is a beast by nature, both literally and figuratively. Her and I work so well together, because we both have a thirst for blood. Mine isn't a need as much as a desire, but still. Lucy and I are both skilled and controlled, which is the most lethal kind of beast. In the jungle of SCW, we are the anomalies, and we will prove this week why we are absolutely nothing to laugh at. We both have our sights set on the trophies, and we will not stop until we have won them, or can no longer move. I will not repeat what my uncle did last year. Lucy and I will advance past the second round, come feast or famine. CJ, I hope you watched what I did to my own son last week. I hope you studied it really hard, because that is but a mere taste of what is to come for you. I'll see you on Sunday...
I wrap this up quickly as my eyes get lost in the rarest of sights. The starry sky mesmerizes me into a trance-like state as the scene fades out... TO BLACK!
