Post by Your JESUS on Oct 18, 2012 13:17:18 GMT -4
You think you can hide from me? That is humorous. I know who you are, I know everything about you, what makes you tick. You can consider myself just as knowledgable as the seem stress that wove the very fabric that makes you who you are. You inner most thoughts, I have seen them. I know what pushes you forward, and keeps you running at the pace that you do. Your deepest secrets, your thoughts and fears...I am privy to those as well. Nothing can be hidden from me. I know you wish to be champion, I know that you are striving for excellence. I know that how hard you work is a direct reflection of so many things people could consider flaws and imperfections to your psyche.
I know that when you wake up in the morning you push your self forward to be the absolute best you can be for your own selfish reasons. I know that when you came to Meltdown that you looked at it as a playground that, you the big boy, could just rule over. All these things I know, and more. Things you don't want others to know, right? Like despite clearly possessing an abundance of talent, and self confidence...deep down inside lies a fragile human being. One filled with fear and doubts, right? You can't fool me...I know what your thinking. I know despite the number of victories, or accolades you may receive at the end of the day a little niche in your heart has a question. Your massive ego begins to turn it's ear to that crevice in your chest hoping to get fed. When your ego reaches a certain point it tends to have a mind of it's own, and hearing any shimmer of doubt or question is pure and simple chaos. I would know better then anyone. The fact that you thought you could hide that from me is laughable!
I simply look into my own eyes as I stare at my reflection. Water dripping from my hair as a towel covers my waist I simply give myself the once over and continue on.
I am you and you are me. This whole thing, this test, I get it. You want to know if you are as good as you think you are. This massive challenge, this colossal mountain you have chose to tackle, it all makes sense. You fancy yourself the baddest mother fucker in the APW, or the planet for that matter. Why wouldn't you, you have every reason to believe so. You accomplished damn near everything imaginable. So you concoct this challenge, this give every one on the roster a chance idea. You hype it up as motivating others, or giving those who might not get a shot, their fair shot. That load of bullshit might work out there, but in here...I know the truth. This is solely about you. Feeding you, giving you even more life. Well hopefully you don't realize you bit off way more then you can choose. Need I remind you of the Xtreme Championship Scramble match you begged for, does it at all sound familiar?
Again I simply just stare at myself intensely.
Of course not, because it bruised you just like this will. I look at it in a positive manor though. No matter the outcome I personally come out the winner. Things go your way, we walk into a match a huge under dog, somehow survive and finish the night still North American champion; you will have proved to the world that every ounce of hot air you spew is well deserved. If on the other hand I am right, then you get your bubble burst, come back down to reality. A reality where yes Michael Lively is a top notch talent. Where Michael Lively is a dangerous threat, and when the title is on the line you had better come suited up for war...because at the end of battle I most likely walk out with the crown. A reality though, where I don't intend to stack the deck so far against myself I drown in defeat before the bell rings. What's done is done. I'm here to go war with you. We will try our luck, just know no matter how the dust settles after the seismic rumblings, we don't come on any losing end of this battle from where I sit I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I have never been more ready to meet people at the gates of hell, I just hope you understand what you started...simple as that?
Just then I hear the voice of my body guard ring out over my left shoulder.
Sabur: Who you talking to bro?
I smile knowing full well how weird it must look. Me standing in a towel fresh from the shower after yet another main event appearance on Monday Night Meltdown, talking to myself none the less. My answer doesn't help the big man with his preconceived notion only offers up more possible concerns for my mental well being.
Lively: I was having a conversation with my ego.
The large mass of muscle and humanity contorts his face raising his eye brows while tilting his head at me.
Sabur: Damn...that's deep!!
I just chuckle slightly about to respond to what ever smart ass remark my long time friend has to offer. Just as I am about to open my mouth I realize he has nothing witty to say and simply just agreed with me. Now it is me looking shocked.
Sabur: It's completely believable that your ego is so massive that it can have it's own personality. I also find it some what comforting as your friend that you have decided to reign that fucker in a bit.
Lively: We will see, I'm just letting it be known, that this isn't a make it break situation. Either end of this rainbow so to speak has a pot of gold if you look hard enough.
Sabur smiles my direction.
Sabur: I had this this thought.
I turn toward the big man giving him a look that simply means "Let's hear it".
Sabur: You were first Grand Slam champion. You won every belt APW had to offer at the time. After an injury you come on back and snatch up a new title the company brought forth. So you are the only man to be world champion, Overdrive, Tag, Xtreme, and North American...
I shift my glance from out with it to you are now stating the obvious and shoot a follow up glare of make your point I'm getting irritated.
Sabur: Say you get drafted to Asylum, or maybe even petitioned for it. You capture the three belts the APW commissioned on that brand and you have won it all. An unheard of feet of greatness like nothing ever preformed before!!!
After that statement it's pure silence for a moment.
Lively: After we basically discuss my massive out of control ego and me trying to reign it in, you slap down what could only be considered a juicy steak for a hungry monster with that tid bit of information. GET OUT OF HERE!!! I have enough on my plate...
Sabur: Whatever it was creepy to talk to you when you are wearing nothing but a towel anyways!!!
The big man walks out like a child whose feelings just got hurt. I turn toward the mirror and look deep with in my eyes. I can almost see the monster licking his chops, begging for me to feed him that dose of prime rib just laid forth. I simply grin knowing it's too late, the smell of meat has hit it's nose. All I can do is sit back and think to myself that being the only man to hold the Holy Grail would be fitting. I push play on my iPod which is set to shuffle. I turn toward my suit case to grab my clothes as the voice of Brandon Boyd rings out. The lead singer of Incubus grabs my attention as I stare back toward the mirror with the words to this sing piercing my soul momentarily.
I shake my head and just laugh as if a message was supposed to be passed forth, sadly it falls upon deaf ears.
October 20th, 2012
Nothing but gibberish fills my ears as my irritation level rises to an all time high. I step forward sliding my passport on the counter to a dish faced man in a security suit. Harsh description I know, but in all honesty his face seriously looked like a diner plate. I just stare upon him as he looks at my passport then up at me, and so on. He picks up a phone spits some foreign none sense then hangs up.
Security Officer:(In Japanese)What is your business in Tokyo? I point to my passport in frustration.
Lively: Um, U.S.A...English mother fucker!!! This guy slams his hand on the counter and stands from his seat giving me the stink eye.
Security Officer:(Broken English Now) What is your business in Tokyo?
I give this guy a surprised look almost shocked that he doesn't recognize me and do what I do, smart ass this son of a bitch.
Lively: Well, I received a invitation from Shang Tsung to fight in the Mortal Kombat tournament...
I smile arrogantly toward the guy who just blankly stares my direction.
Lively: Ok, how about Toyota has brought me in to give a rugged insight on their auto mobile line for 2014...
Again this fucking dude is just stone faced and is not amused.
Lively: Would you believe I'm a sumo wrestler? How about business consultant of Chuck Norris and we are ready to take down the Yakuza...
No sooner then I outstretch my arms asking the guy I feel a hand cuff hit my right wrist. Three more security members of this airport in Tokyo slam me against the counter. The stone faced Jap leans forward.
Security Officer: Har-Har Mr. Funny man...who laughs now?
I struggle as these dudes lock my arms behind me in cuffs.
Lively: Ok...I don't know Chuck Norris...fuck Chuck...hail Antonio Anoki...wait...Great Muta...man shit!!!
October Something, 2012
I sit in a dark jail cell, on the cold floor with my head slumped on my knees. I have lost track of time in the Tokyo dungeon. The biggest match in my career lays before me and I have yet to be talked to in this torture chamber, and haven't a clue how I plan to free myself. So I sit here chained and shackled to my thoughts, getting caught up in the what if's, and what could of been. Just when I let desperation sink in and hope disappear, the roaring sound of an engine coming in hot rumbles out. I pick up my head turning an ear sideway trying to figure out what that noise is or coming from. The wall to my right explodes as the front end of a beefed up Hummer crashes through the bricks and mortar. Sabur hangs our of the drivers side window.
Sabur: Hurry up...get the fuck in here!!!
I spring to my feet, scamper toward the passenger side and hope in. The big man jams the gear select into reverse and powers backward spinning the truck around like a movie chase scene. With in seconds we power off on the run.
Lively: How did you find me?
Sabur: Chubs apparently is an Internet guru or some shit. He found out that you got locked up at the air port, so we sprung into action.
Lively: I'm not even sure why they locked me up, I mentioned Chuck Norris and next thing you know.
Sabur: Actually you were in Japan three and a half years ago. Apparently you wrecked havoc at a Geisha House, stole two of their women, an injured three others.All their Uterus's had been Super Kicked violently.
Lively: What? Oh my God!
Sabur: Yeah, some witnesses said you took the two Geisha's walked them to a temple screaming your free.
Lively: Haha...I do remember that now.
Sabur: Apparently the Geisha House burned to the ground. Japan looked at you as a Terrorist.
Lively: Are you kidding me? Wait my stuff, the title...
Sabur: No worries, Your mother broke into their evidence area and grabbed your bags, I hunted down a Hummer, which was extremely difficult, and here we are. Japanese Fugitives!!!
I kick my seat back smiling and fold my arms behind my head. I have my ticket, and so far according to the way things have gone thus far, it definitely seems I am on my way to Hell.
October 27th, 2012
Being on the lamb can be fun, it can also have some down falls. Right now I see no downside as we arrive at an undisclosed location. There is Chubs with his camera ready to roll. To his right Jerry O'Harrow holding my North American title. I step out of the Hummer and walk over to the two men as Sabur pulls my escape vehicle over to a double gated fence. I grab the belt as Jerry hands it over. The second it hits my palm my face shows a look of concern.
Lively: Hey...why are you handing me a replica title Jerry?
He smiles with guilt and walks over toward a black sedan that my mother rented upon her arrival to Tokyo. He knocks in the trunk, and my mother pops it open. The washed up wrestler reaches in pulling out the real thing realizing he can't get over on me. He tries to explain his infraction to me as he hands over the Gold. I just whoosh the man and grab my prized possession. Chubs takes his place in front of the face about fifty yards back. Sabur gets the thumbs up and drops a match. As the flame hits a wet substance on the ground the red light on Chubs handy cam lights up. Wouldn't you know it so does the Hummer. Our get away truck explodes and the gate behind it seems to be coated with something flammable as it ignites as well. I look at Sabur giving him a nod of approval, and step I to the cameras view with the fiery mess behind. I out stretch my arms as the title swings between my legs. The flaming back drop radiates heat as I start my rant.
Lively: Here we are, Tokyo Japan, and I stand here at the gates of Hell ready for my ever so important night. It's just One night, but a ever so important and meaningful night it will be. The big show, the grand stage, new comers to this company get a chance to be seen by millions, in mother fucking Tokyo Japan none the less. You will hear my name disparaged, run down, and dragged through the gutter this week. The reality of this situation is these fuckers should be thanking me instead of cursing me. Each one of these ungrateful fucks gets to join me at these flaming gates, they get to enter the pit of Hell for a chance to walk out something a hundred times better then they were before. Win loose or draw each person in this match just sky rocketed to the forefront of APW, and Meltdown. On this stage not only do they get a chance to claim victory, a chance to write their name in the record books, but also get a platform to shine in front of everyone who matters in the business side of this great company. You are welcome, but your thanks is not needed. I know the mind set you people must be in, the nerves that are brewing. I know the zone you are trying to enter. Been there, done that.
I pull the belt from my waist band and place it over my shoulder.
Lively: This is what it's all about? This is why you people are here? Streets, Krunk, Pennington, M&M, Shadow, and Young Mannie...it's all about being champion. For me it's so much more then that. I could spend my time running you people down, tossing out numerous valid points of why you are all unworthy. Instead I will tell you why I am the true worthy one for this title, why I'm fit to wear the crown. Why I have had so many resting upon my ego filled head over the years. Lets face it, I'm the one who begged for this match, I pleaded for this challenge. I fancy myself the best, and need to prove it to myself at every corner along the way. Lets be real, no other champion would ask to have the deck stacked this much against them. I already feel like a winner before the bell even rings. I had mad many proclamations in my days here in APW. I have called myself the landscaper that trims the hedges if you will. I have always held the pleasure and honor of being the measuring stick for this place, and loved punishing those who didn't stack up. I feel I have a bit of that hear on Meltdown. Sure a couple of frauds slipped through the slats like Shane Borderland, but luckily the rough waters here sink all the unfit ships. This match, this cluster of talents...all have their sails propped up in the wind. One Night In Hell we all float into the fiery torment together. Baptized in blood, bathed in pain and suffering. I can honestly say as a proud man that I am honored to go to war with all of you mother fuckers. I feel my job as an inspiration, as a motivator was done flawlessly. This title match has a group of people that not only have the ability to win a match, because let's be honest anyone can sneak out a victory, but this group of warriors has the capabilities to carry the burdens of success. My work is cut out for me...
I take the title down and lay it at my feet as Chubs pulls back a bit.
Lively: The goal isn't to walk out the champion. No...my goal is to leave every ounce of what I have to offer inside that ring. Despite my actions, no matter your Pre conceived notions about me. On this night I walk in that match the champion, when the dust settles I leave empty, depleted, and nothing short of a Living Legend. I have created greatness on a show that was viewed nothing more then a filter. I took Meltdown and the people on it proper them up to heights they may have never achieved. In a business where your shot, or chance for glory could never come, or may happen rarely like a solar eclipse...
I hang my head with an evil grin looking to the title laid before me.
Lively: I did what any true JESUS would do...
I turn toward the flaming gates watching the tips of the fire dance in the sky. My back toward the camera I continue on.
Lively: There is a song that I love to hear, it's words seem to just scream out to me. It goes...You know your days are numbered
Count 'em one by one, Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun. You can outrun the devil if you try, But you will never outrun the hands of time. The song sung by Mark Collie then goes on to to say, In time there'll surely come a day, In time all things shall pass away, In time you may come back some say...To live once more...To die once more...But in time your time will be no more. You can out run the Devil if you try. Well folks I am not running from anything, only toward a fight that I picked. The hands of time, that lyric is fitting because maybe those hands have caught up with me in regards to my title run as North American champion. The funny thing is only time will tell. You see I walk to the ring with this belt, lay it on the table like an offering for you all to admire. Once the bell rings though, trust me the last thing on my mind is that championship belt. I am warrior born for moments like these. I am a man made to fight, bred for battle. We are all gathered at the gates of Hell, each one of prepared and ready to toss fists, bleed and sweat. You all may be fighting for a title, or twelve pounds of Gold. I am fighting for ME, I am fighting for MY pride, MY arrogance. The notion that I am as damn good as I say I am. I have already won the prize, MY match was booked. In some twisted way that's toy at the bottom of the cereal box for me. Now I pour Milk in my bowl sit back and just enjoy. Know this many men wish to be where you are. Many men have made proclamations that I am sure all of you will make. Things along the lines "That you are ready to die for this". We are all ready to die, the difference between a winner and a loser in War is "Someone is willing to KILL for this". So while you show up ready to put yourself in the line of fire, lay down your life for the GREATER good of becoming a champion. Know I have notched out my Cross, I hoisted it upon my shoulders and carried it to the ring many times before this evening. I have Lived Once More as the songs says, because down here in Hell, the Devil knows who calls the shots. I a muderous son of a bitch. Born a Bastard and proud to live up to the hype that comes with the title. Each one of you challengers will bring to the table something unique. For this I am excited. After this night passes our names will forever be linked together in the history books. It will be a match unlike any before it. The emotion of the young, the thrill of the chase. The brutal fashion that desperation will unleash. These all but little glimpse's into Hell, a Hell I have experienced a time or two in my life. So as it goes In time there'll surely come a day, One Night In Hell could be that day. In time all things shall pass away, In time you may come back some say...I have experienced the taste and smell of Death.
To live once more...I ressurected not only myself, but this career of greatness, and cemented my Legacy with each tick of the hand. In this match though it could only be, To die once more...but in time, MY time will be no more. That last line has a dramatic feel to it, and I simply believe it's nothing more then that. The fact is Hell is waiting folks, and here I stand at the Gate ready to usher you sons of bitches in...
I outstretch my arms in the I am JESUS pose just lifting my head letting the heat from the flaming gates cover me with warmth. Chubs pans down focusing on the North American Title as he fades to black.
I know that when you wake up in the morning you push your self forward to be the absolute best you can be for your own selfish reasons. I know that when you came to Meltdown that you looked at it as a playground that, you the big boy, could just rule over. All these things I know, and more. Things you don't want others to know, right? Like despite clearly possessing an abundance of talent, and self confidence...deep down inside lies a fragile human being. One filled with fear and doubts, right? You can't fool me...I know what your thinking. I know despite the number of victories, or accolades you may receive at the end of the day a little niche in your heart has a question. Your massive ego begins to turn it's ear to that crevice in your chest hoping to get fed. When your ego reaches a certain point it tends to have a mind of it's own, and hearing any shimmer of doubt or question is pure and simple chaos. I would know better then anyone. The fact that you thought you could hide that from me is laughable!
I simply look into my own eyes as I stare at my reflection. Water dripping from my hair as a towel covers my waist I simply give myself the once over and continue on.
I am you and you are me. This whole thing, this test, I get it. You want to know if you are as good as you think you are. This massive challenge, this colossal mountain you have chose to tackle, it all makes sense. You fancy yourself the baddest mother fucker in the APW, or the planet for that matter. Why wouldn't you, you have every reason to believe so. You accomplished damn near everything imaginable. So you concoct this challenge, this give every one on the roster a chance idea. You hype it up as motivating others, or giving those who might not get a shot, their fair shot. That load of bullshit might work out there, but in here...I know the truth. This is solely about you. Feeding you, giving you even more life. Well hopefully you don't realize you bit off way more then you can choose. Need I remind you of the Xtreme Championship Scramble match you begged for, does it at all sound familiar?
Again I simply just stare at myself intensely.
Of course not, because it bruised you just like this will. I look at it in a positive manor though. No matter the outcome I personally come out the winner. Things go your way, we walk into a match a huge under dog, somehow survive and finish the night still North American champion; you will have proved to the world that every ounce of hot air you spew is well deserved. If on the other hand I am right, then you get your bubble burst, come back down to reality. A reality where yes Michael Lively is a top notch talent. Where Michael Lively is a dangerous threat, and when the title is on the line you had better come suited up for war...because at the end of battle I most likely walk out with the crown. A reality though, where I don't intend to stack the deck so far against myself I drown in defeat before the bell rings. What's done is done. I'm here to go war with you. We will try our luck, just know no matter how the dust settles after the seismic rumblings, we don't come on any losing end of this battle from where I sit I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I have never been more ready to meet people at the gates of hell, I just hope you understand what you started...simple as that?
Just then I hear the voice of my body guard ring out over my left shoulder.
Sabur: Who you talking to bro?
I smile knowing full well how weird it must look. Me standing in a towel fresh from the shower after yet another main event appearance on Monday Night Meltdown, talking to myself none the less. My answer doesn't help the big man with his preconceived notion only offers up more possible concerns for my mental well being.
Lively: I was having a conversation with my ego.
The large mass of muscle and humanity contorts his face raising his eye brows while tilting his head at me.
Sabur: Damn...that's deep!!
I just chuckle slightly about to respond to what ever smart ass remark my long time friend has to offer. Just as I am about to open my mouth I realize he has nothing witty to say and simply just agreed with me. Now it is me looking shocked.
Sabur: It's completely believable that your ego is so massive that it can have it's own personality. I also find it some what comforting as your friend that you have decided to reign that fucker in a bit.
Lively: We will see, I'm just letting it be known, that this isn't a make it break situation. Either end of this rainbow so to speak has a pot of gold if you look hard enough.
Sabur smiles my direction.
Sabur: I had this this thought.
I turn toward the big man giving him a look that simply means "Let's hear it".
Sabur: You were first Grand Slam champion. You won every belt APW had to offer at the time. After an injury you come on back and snatch up a new title the company brought forth. So you are the only man to be world champion, Overdrive, Tag, Xtreme, and North American...
I shift my glance from out with it to you are now stating the obvious and shoot a follow up glare of make your point I'm getting irritated.
Sabur: Say you get drafted to Asylum, or maybe even petitioned for it. You capture the three belts the APW commissioned on that brand and you have won it all. An unheard of feet of greatness like nothing ever preformed before!!!
After that statement it's pure silence for a moment.
Lively: After we basically discuss my massive out of control ego and me trying to reign it in, you slap down what could only be considered a juicy steak for a hungry monster with that tid bit of information. GET OUT OF HERE!!! I have enough on my plate...
Sabur: Whatever it was creepy to talk to you when you are wearing nothing but a towel anyways!!!
The big man walks out like a child whose feelings just got hurt. I turn toward the mirror and look deep with in my eyes. I can almost see the monster licking his chops, begging for me to feed him that dose of prime rib just laid forth. I simply grin knowing it's too late, the smell of meat has hit it's nose. All I can do is sit back and think to myself that being the only man to hold the Holy Grail would be fitting. I push play on my iPod which is set to shuffle. I turn toward my suit case to grab my clothes as the voice of Brandon Boyd rings out. The lead singer of Incubus grabs my attention as I stare back toward the mirror with the words to this sing piercing my soul momentarily.
"If I were your appendages I'd hold open your eyes So you would see That all of us are heaven sent There was never meant to be only one To be only one Hey megalomaniac You're no Jesus Yeah, you're no fucking Elvis Special, as you know yourself Baby, just step down, step down"
I shake my head and just laugh as if a message was supposed to be passed forth, sadly it falls upon deaf ears.
October 20th, 2012
Nothing but gibberish fills my ears as my irritation level rises to an all time high. I step forward sliding my passport on the counter to a dish faced man in a security suit. Harsh description I know, but in all honesty his face seriously looked like a diner plate. I just stare upon him as he looks at my passport then up at me, and so on. He picks up a phone spits some foreign none sense then hangs up.
Security Officer:(In Japanese)What is your business in Tokyo? I point to my passport in frustration.
Lively: Um, U.S.A...English mother fucker!!! This guy slams his hand on the counter and stands from his seat giving me the stink eye.
Security Officer:(Broken English Now) What is your business in Tokyo?
I give this guy a surprised look almost shocked that he doesn't recognize me and do what I do, smart ass this son of a bitch.
Lively: Well, I received a invitation from Shang Tsung to fight in the Mortal Kombat tournament...
I smile arrogantly toward the guy who just blankly stares my direction.
Lively: Ok, how about Toyota has brought me in to give a rugged insight on their auto mobile line for 2014...
Again this fucking dude is just stone faced and is not amused.
Lively: Would you believe I'm a sumo wrestler? How about business consultant of Chuck Norris and we are ready to take down the Yakuza...
No sooner then I outstretch my arms asking the guy I feel a hand cuff hit my right wrist. Three more security members of this airport in Tokyo slam me against the counter. The stone faced Jap leans forward.
Security Officer: Har-Har Mr. Funny man...who laughs now?
I struggle as these dudes lock my arms behind me in cuffs.
Lively: Ok...I don't know Chuck Norris...fuck Chuck...hail Antonio Anoki...wait...Great Muta...man shit!!!
October Something, 2012
I sit in a dark jail cell, on the cold floor with my head slumped on my knees. I have lost track of time in the Tokyo dungeon. The biggest match in my career lays before me and I have yet to be talked to in this torture chamber, and haven't a clue how I plan to free myself. So I sit here chained and shackled to my thoughts, getting caught up in the what if's, and what could of been. Just when I let desperation sink in and hope disappear, the roaring sound of an engine coming in hot rumbles out. I pick up my head turning an ear sideway trying to figure out what that noise is or coming from. The wall to my right explodes as the front end of a beefed up Hummer crashes through the bricks and mortar. Sabur hangs our of the drivers side window.
Sabur: Hurry up...get the fuck in here!!!
I spring to my feet, scamper toward the passenger side and hope in. The big man jams the gear select into reverse and powers backward spinning the truck around like a movie chase scene. With in seconds we power off on the run.
Lively: How did you find me?
Sabur: Chubs apparently is an Internet guru or some shit. He found out that you got locked up at the air port, so we sprung into action.
Lively: I'm not even sure why they locked me up, I mentioned Chuck Norris and next thing you know.
Sabur: Actually you were in Japan three and a half years ago. Apparently you wrecked havoc at a Geisha House, stole two of their women, an injured three others.All their Uterus's had been Super Kicked violently.
Lively: What? Oh my God!
Sabur: Yeah, some witnesses said you took the two Geisha's walked them to a temple screaming your free.
Lively: Haha...I do remember that now.
Sabur: Apparently the Geisha House burned to the ground. Japan looked at you as a Terrorist.
Lively: Are you kidding me? Wait my stuff, the title...
Sabur: No worries, Your mother broke into their evidence area and grabbed your bags, I hunted down a Hummer, which was extremely difficult, and here we are. Japanese Fugitives!!!
I kick my seat back smiling and fold my arms behind my head. I have my ticket, and so far according to the way things have gone thus far, it definitely seems I am on my way to Hell.
October 27th, 2012
Being on the lamb can be fun, it can also have some down falls. Right now I see no downside as we arrive at an undisclosed location. There is Chubs with his camera ready to roll. To his right Jerry O'Harrow holding my North American title. I step out of the Hummer and walk over to the two men as Sabur pulls my escape vehicle over to a double gated fence. I grab the belt as Jerry hands it over. The second it hits my palm my face shows a look of concern.
Lively: Hey...why are you handing me a replica title Jerry?
He smiles with guilt and walks over toward a black sedan that my mother rented upon her arrival to Tokyo. He knocks in the trunk, and my mother pops it open. The washed up wrestler reaches in pulling out the real thing realizing he can't get over on me. He tries to explain his infraction to me as he hands over the Gold. I just whoosh the man and grab my prized possession. Chubs takes his place in front of the face about fifty yards back. Sabur gets the thumbs up and drops a match. As the flame hits a wet substance on the ground the red light on Chubs handy cam lights up. Wouldn't you know it so does the Hummer. Our get away truck explodes and the gate behind it seems to be coated with something flammable as it ignites as well. I look at Sabur giving him a nod of approval, and step I to the cameras view with the fiery mess behind. I out stretch my arms as the title swings between my legs. The flaming back drop radiates heat as I start my rant.
Lively: Here we are, Tokyo Japan, and I stand here at the gates of Hell ready for my ever so important night. It's just One night, but a ever so important and meaningful night it will be. The big show, the grand stage, new comers to this company get a chance to be seen by millions, in mother fucking Tokyo Japan none the less. You will hear my name disparaged, run down, and dragged through the gutter this week. The reality of this situation is these fuckers should be thanking me instead of cursing me. Each one of these ungrateful fucks gets to join me at these flaming gates, they get to enter the pit of Hell for a chance to walk out something a hundred times better then they were before. Win loose or draw each person in this match just sky rocketed to the forefront of APW, and Meltdown. On this stage not only do they get a chance to claim victory, a chance to write their name in the record books, but also get a platform to shine in front of everyone who matters in the business side of this great company. You are welcome, but your thanks is not needed. I know the mind set you people must be in, the nerves that are brewing. I know the zone you are trying to enter. Been there, done that.
I pull the belt from my waist band and place it over my shoulder.
Lively: This is what it's all about? This is why you people are here? Streets, Krunk, Pennington, M&M, Shadow, and Young Mannie...it's all about being champion. For me it's so much more then that. I could spend my time running you people down, tossing out numerous valid points of why you are all unworthy. Instead I will tell you why I am the true worthy one for this title, why I'm fit to wear the crown. Why I have had so many resting upon my ego filled head over the years. Lets face it, I'm the one who begged for this match, I pleaded for this challenge. I fancy myself the best, and need to prove it to myself at every corner along the way. Lets be real, no other champion would ask to have the deck stacked this much against them. I already feel like a winner before the bell even rings. I had mad many proclamations in my days here in APW. I have called myself the landscaper that trims the hedges if you will. I have always held the pleasure and honor of being the measuring stick for this place, and loved punishing those who didn't stack up. I feel I have a bit of that hear on Meltdown. Sure a couple of frauds slipped through the slats like Shane Borderland, but luckily the rough waters here sink all the unfit ships. This match, this cluster of talents...all have their sails propped up in the wind. One Night In Hell we all float into the fiery torment together. Baptized in blood, bathed in pain and suffering. I can honestly say as a proud man that I am honored to go to war with all of you mother fuckers. I feel my job as an inspiration, as a motivator was done flawlessly. This title match has a group of people that not only have the ability to win a match, because let's be honest anyone can sneak out a victory, but this group of warriors has the capabilities to carry the burdens of success. My work is cut out for me...
I take the title down and lay it at my feet as Chubs pulls back a bit.
Lively: The goal isn't to walk out the champion. No...my goal is to leave every ounce of what I have to offer inside that ring. Despite my actions, no matter your Pre conceived notions about me. On this night I walk in that match the champion, when the dust settles I leave empty, depleted, and nothing short of a Living Legend. I have created greatness on a show that was viewed nothing more then a filter. I took Meltdown and the people on it proper them up to heights they may have never achieved. In a business where your shot, or chance for glory could never come, or may happen rarely like a solar eclipse...
I hang my head with an evil grin looking to the title laid before me.
Lively: I did what any true JESUS would do...
I turn toward the flaming gates watching the tips of the fire dance in the sky. My back toward the camera I continue on.
Lively: There is a song that I love to hear, it's words seem to just scream out to me. It goes...You know your days are numbered
Count 'em one by one, Like notches in the handle of an outlaw's gun. You can outrun the devil if you try, But you will never outrun the hands of time. The song sung by Mark Collie then goes on to to say, In time there'll surely come a day, In time all things shall pass away, In time you may come back some say...To live once more...To die once more...But in time your time will be no more. You can out run the Devil if you try. Well folks I am not running from anything, only toward a fight that I picked. The hands of time, that lyric is fitting because maybe those hands have caught up with me in regards to my title run as North American champion. The funny thing is only time will tell. You see I walk to the ring with this belt, lay it on the table like an offering for you all to admire. Once the bell rings though, trust me the last thing on my mind is that championship belt. I am warrior born for moments like these. I am a man made to fight, bred for battle. We are all gathered at the gates of Hell, each one of prepared and ready to toss fists, bleed and sweat. You all may be fighting for a title, or twelve pounds of Gold. I am fighting for ME, I am fighting for MY pride, MY arrogance. The notion that I am as damn good as I say I am. I have already won the prize, MY match was booked. In some twisted way that's toy at the bottom of the cereal box for me. Now I pour Milk in my bowl sit back and just enjoy. Know this many men wish to be where you are. Many men have made proclamations that I am sure all of you will make. Things along the lines "That you are ready to die for this". We are all ready to die, the difference between a winner and a loser in War is "Someone is willing to KILL for this". So while you show up ready to put yourself in the line of fire, lay down your life for the GREATER good of becoming a champion. Know I have notched out my Cross, I hoisted it upon my shoulders and carried it to the ring many times before this evening. I have Lived Once More as the songs says, because down here in Hell, the Devil knows who calls the shots. I a muderous son of a bitch. Born a Bastard and proud to live up to the hype that comes with the title. Each one of you challengers will bring to the table something unique. For this I am excited. After this night passes our names will forever be linked together in the history books. It will be a match unlike any before it. The emotion of the young, the thrill of the chase. The brutal fashion that desperation will unleash. These all but little glimpse's into Hell, a Hell I have experienced a time or two in my life. So as it goes In time there'll surely come a day, One Night In Hell could be that day. In time all things shall pass away, In time you may come back some say...I have experienced the taste and smell of Death.
To live once more...I ressurected not only myself, but this career of greatness, and cemented my Legacy with each tick of the hand. In this match though it could only be, To die once more...but in time, MY time will be no more. That last line has a dramatic feel to it, and I simply believe it's nothing more then that. The fact is Hell is waiting folks, and here I stand at the Gate ready to usher you sons of bitches in...
I outstretch my arms in the I am JESUS pose just lifting my head letting the heat from the flaming gates cover me with warmth. Chubs pans down focusing on the North American Title as he fades to black.
