Post by Your JESUS on Mar 13, 2013 22:55:19 GMT -4
~An Average Day In The Life~
We are back at home in Las Vegas preparing for the biggest show of the year. Action Packed Wrestling has it's share of big events. Test for the Best generates excitement, as every participant jockeys to put their best foot forward in hopes of furthering their career. Survive and Conquer has become something similar to a time share production. People from all over the globe descend on APW for a trial run and dip their toes in the water to see if they can hack the sub zero temperatures. Those who are man, or sadly...woman enough to have stepped through the curtains under the APW banner all again tried to shine. No matter how diverse the individual, or where they see themselves in championship contention, equally we all hope to have our names printed on the final card when Jeff announces the line up for Rasstlemania!!! I could be cliche and start to summarize how big this show is. I could compare it to the Superbowl, or the World Series. Then again if you don't already understand the magnitude of Rasstlemania then I suggest you simply tune out. I can honestly say you have no further business here, and I can't waste my time trying to entertain you any longer. At this stage in the game you should understand the importance of this Pay Per View. With that being said I won't be the guy trying to convince you that this PPV, better yet this match is what I have worked my entire career for. I won't bore you with a speech about my years of hard work and dedication, and try to persuade you to believe that it is all about to pay off here, in one night. There are a number of things that will prevent me for doing any of that. First of all it's not my first rodeo nor do I intend it to be my last, not until I have scribbled a few more accolades of greatness next to my name.
This show with the companies hype, the fans excitement, and the media's attention becomes something larger then life. Some guys soak in the experience like a sponge, and by the time the bell rings they are simply bogged down and completely overcome with Mania that their best performance is next to impossible to bring forth. I understand this shows importance, respect every part of it's historic value, but I value myself and my own needs much, much more. I won't chalk it up as just another show, but you won't find me getting mushy, teary eyed or butterfly gut over it. I am walking that aisle with my goals firmly implanted in my mindset. Out work, out perform, and out class two men that aren't on my level. Do it all on the biggest stage of them all. I plan to show the world why the Wild Card is free to move up and down the ladder of success at will. My goal is to prove my theory of Smith and Gooch's mid card status as complete and indisputable fact. These two geniuses may think it's all about the Xtreme title, while I, on the other hand could care less about that championship. It's much bigger then that for me. When that bell rings, the announcer shouts out my name over the sound of AFI, and the ref hands me the Xtreme championship...as God as my witness I will hold it long enough to mark it down in the record books, enter my name in the stats...then I will drop it in the middle of the ring for Gooch and Smith to bicker over.
Then, and only then, in that moment when I walk to my locker room like a legendary veteran who has many more Rasstlemania's left to compete at, will it sink in for these men. Like getting slapped in the face by the bitch known the world over as truth the sting of reality will warmly flush their cheek as they stare at the prize they both hoped to walk out with. a prize they lost, left there like scraps left for the dogs.
Please don't take this bold thought process of mine as a disrespect to the Xtreme championship, or APW itself. It's just a peer into my mindset, a mindset that at this moment doesn't have a need for the Xtreme championship. There are titles I am interested in capturing, but lets just say I haven't made it to that chapter just quite yet. We might be heading that direction, but to get there I do know I can't have the extra baggage of the Xtreme championship weighing me down. This match, it's about me putting two men in their place, labeling them so the world can see them at their true value. Belt or no belt, I would line up all day to have an opportunity like this, on the grandest stage of them all to do it on. I consider myself the filter of this company. Filter out those unfit, weed out the unworthy, and sadly keep people meant to fill up the middle as far from the top as possible.
So with my bags packed and the tickets booked for myself and the entourage I surround myself with, there is nothing more to do then unwind, because we fly out in the morning. So here I stand in the sunlight of a mid seventy degree afternoon in the town I reside. A beat up Ford Taurus parked at my side as Sabur, Jerry O'Harrow and Chubs all make their way out side. You could tell they were uneasy by the look on their faces a few minutes ago when I told them I was bored and that we needed to go do something.
Like game show contestants of Fear Factor these men nervously walk forward not sure what shenanigans wait for them. Luckily for my crew I am not into watching people eat animal testicles, or quiver while covered in bugs. I have another form of amusement in mind.
Lively: Alright guys...I'm driving!!
Collectively they all groan as they remember what happened in Europe when I drove on the wrong side of the road.
Lively: Sabur you and Chubs are in the back. Chubs you brought the camera like I asked?
My fat cameraman nods his head. Jerry O'Harrow smirks toward Sabur and Chubs as he walks toward the passenger side of this beat down sedan.
Jerry: Haha shotgun bitches!!
Lively: Whoa!!
Jerry pauses as he reaches for the handle. His eyes looking my direction as I wave him over.
Lively: Come here, did you bring the pillow case?
Jerry nods holding it up. I grab it from the drunken, washed up wrestler and then walk toward the trunk. With a turn of the key I pop the luggage compartment of this vehicle.
Lively: You get to ride back here Jerry.
Jerry: What? No, you are kidding right?
The look on my face is not one of someone about to break from seriousness.
Lively: Listen Jerry you are about to play a very important part in this little expedition we are about to embark.
I lean over whispering in the guys ear and what I explained to him not only gave birth to a smile on his face but coaxed him in the trunk. I slam the lid shut as I spin the key ring around my pointer finger and jump in the drivers seat. Chubs seated right behind me and holds up the camera as I turn back looking toward he and Sabur.
Lively: Alright Chubs lets just say we are making a viral video, you film it how you see it.
The fat guy still unsure what's going down just nods in agreement as I fire up the engine. I click this clunker into gear and drive off. After a few turns and a couple of stop signs we make it out onto a main road. With a target insight I gas up the car to a fast speed and roll down the drivers window. Going sixty miles an hour I rip the steering wheel making a tire screeching right turn into the parking lot of a Home Depot hardware store causing a big scene. I quickly look back to the camera.
Lively: I'm Michael Lively and this is the Day Laborer!!!
I lock up the brakes as we pull up on what I presume are illegal immigrants gathered outside this hardware store. They are lined up along a fence on the right side of my car and I climb out the window of the car quickly looking toward them.
Lively: I need one guy...UNO, and you better understand English!!!
One guy runs over as I slide back into the drivers seat. I reach over propping open the passenger door. No sooner then he gets his ass in the seat I floor it taking off screeching the front tires of this junk heap. The door flies backward as this guy scrambles to get in and shut it to safely keep him inside. I barrel out of the parking lot as Chubs films this entire thing. This gentleman I have just picked up looks nervous as I say not a single world. He cautiously looks back to see Chubs with a video camera pointed his direction and my huge steroid infested body guard Sabur with his man eating, blood thirsty stare. This guy swallows nervously as he looks forward just as I rip us around a corner, just as hot as I pulled in when I picked him up a minute ago. I lock up the brakes as we stop in an alley. Unsure what is going on the guy looks at me. I offer up nothing just a blank stare forward with my hands still clutching the wheel. Suddenly I break the silence.
Lively: You a hard worker boy?
The man replies with a crackling voice saying yes.
Lively: Well, I can't really tell you where we are going...
With that I slowly turn my head toward staring him in the eyes making the situation even more awkward. I take my right hand off the steering wheel and grab the pillow case from my lap. I extend it toward my passenger not saying a word. He grabs it unsure what I am asking him to do.
Lively: Are you an illegal??
The guy nods his head nervously answering yes.
Lively: Then you know the drill...pillow case it up!!!
Full of tension and nerves my passenger reluctantly places the pillowcase over his head shielding himself from seeing anything. Not skipping a beat I quickly ask him in my most intense and serious voice.
Lively: You good with a shovel?
I here again a nervous voice muttering out the word yes.
Lively: Great we need you to dig us a hole...
With that Jerry O'Harrow begins kicking and screaming in the trunk as if right on cue.
Jerry: Let me out of here...HELP!!!
My recently acquired Day Laborer rips the pillow case off his head, and looks around before he speaks again.
Laborer: I...I can't be a part of this...
Lively: A part of what?
Again Jerry causes a commotion. The guy reaches for the door handle opening the door, but before he steps out I quickly grab his wrist.
Lively: HEY!! You never saw us! Don't forget I got you on video, so I will find you!!!
The guy leaps from the car and breaks out in his best Jamaican sprinter impersonation by booking it down the street. I can't help myself as I blurt out into full laughter. No one else in the car laughs but you can hear Jerry yelling from the trunk.
Jerry: Did it work? Tell me he freaked out??
I yell back to Jerry to inform him it was priceless. Sabur having a conscious, shakes his head as I fire up the car and drive off to another destination. I quickly scream out...
Lively: Jerry, round two!!!
With that I gas it up once more. I drive toward a Lowes hardware store. Again I come in hot and rip this shit can of a car to a screeching halt with smoke coming off the rather bald tires. I step out looking at the waiting Hispanic men who all lean forward hoping I may have a job for them.
Lively: UNO, I need one, and you need to understand English.
Again an eager gentlemen steps up hoping to make a days wage. I step back in the car as he takes a seat as my passenger. We drive off a little more calmly this time. As we come to the first stop light I engage in conversation to ease this guys nerves.
Lively: What's your name?
"Pepe"
Lively: Alright Pepe, just out trying to make some money today?
Pepe: Si...I mean J'es!
Lively: Seems like a hard way to make a buck. I mean there had to be about sixty or seventy of you back there, all hoping to get picked.
Pepe: J'es sir! Tis hard.
Lively: And here it is your lucky day? You are riding passenger ready to earn some money.
Pepe: Thank You Señor!
This guy still hasn't noticed the fat guy in the back seat filming, he is just happy as could be to have what he thinks is an opportunity. Sadly I'm the dream crusher and will enjoy shattering his momentarily.
Lively: Let me ask you Pepe, why not just get a regular job like most Americans. You know a job where you pay taxes, and contribute to this country?
Taken back by my tone and questioning Pepe looks my direction.
Pepe: Well Señor I no have papers!
At this point the man notices Chubs pointing a camera at him.
Lively: Oh no papers, so you are here illegally?
Pepe hesitates to answer the question knowing he is being filmed.
Lively: Pepe...didn't you just say you had no papers?
Nothing but silence as this fellow seems to have taken to our countries rights by invoking his right to remain silent. I try to calm him down.
Lively: Is the camera making you nervous Pepe? I'm sorry bud, it's for my protection, I mean I just picked up a random stranger to come to my home and help me move furniture...relax man I don't care if you are an illegal immigrant.
I pat the guy on the shoulder as we round the corner. He smiles as my reasoning seems to have eased his tension.
Pepe: Sorry Señor I just get nervous, I don't want to get deported, no papers!
Lively: So you are illegal then?
Pepe nods his head yes as I quickly lock the brakes of this Ford Taurus. With the blink of an eye I slap a pair of handcuffs on his wrist and firmly grab the seat belt to prevent him from bolting.
Pepe: Señor...no Señor!
The guy shakes his head as I grab a roll of duct tape. I rip off a piece and place over his mouth to keep him from further trying to pour out guilt. Sadly it falls upon deaf ears either way, how does it go "ain't nobody got time fo dat".
Lively: Now I'm sure you are curious what is going down...
Just on cue Jerry starts kicking and mumbling from the trunk creating lots of noise and helping to sell the gravity of this situation for Pepe.
Lively: I'm a Wolf! You know what a Wolf is?
Pepe shakes his head no.
Lively: Do you know what a Coyote is?
Pepe shakes his head yes knowing about the smugglers for hire that help people like himself get across the border.
Lively: Well a Wolf is the opposite of a Coyote. I yoke up a trunk full of you assholes, drive you back across the border and collect a fee for each one!!
Pepe looks extremely disappointed and concerned as I step out of the car. I walk around opening his door and unbuckling him. I grab him by the collar as Jerry starts up with the noise again.
Lively: I got one of your home boys in there, and the way I see it I can fit about three more of you bastards in there before I make the drive...
I walk him to the trunk and let him go. I move slowly acting like I am going to pop open the trunk. Pepe with duct tape on his mouth and his hands cuffed in front of his body sees his opportunity and ran off like a man desperate to save his own life. I open the trunk to free Jerry as we both break out in laughter. I clutch my stomach as tears fill my eyes from extreme belly rumbling chuckles. We both walk back to the front of the car and sit down. I try to catch my breath.
Lively: Whew my cheeks hurt...
Jerry: I can't wait to watch the video.
Sabur: You know that was pretty despicable!
I turn around toward my body guard who is obviously seated upon his horse of humanity.
Sabur: Not only was that kind of distasteful, but it is borderline racist and an exploitation!
Lively: Sure I know numerous people will lump those actions into a box of inappropriate. They will view my video prank as racist. Many will think of me as an asshole exploiting those men for my own satisfaction or enjoyment...
My body guard not on board with my actions just glares at me.
Lively: I don't expect anyone to take it as a learning lesson. I don't think many people will take it for what I meant it to be. This stunt or prank was meant to serve as warning for A.C. Smith and Buckson Gooch.
Sabur: What kind of warning was that??
Lively: I am a master of finding weakness. When I do, I skillfully use your weakness anyway I please to benefit my needs. Today these illegal immigrants had Michael Lively pick on their weakness for my entertainment purposes. Rasstlemania I will pick apart Smith and Gooch, on display in front of millions of people I will turn them inside out. I will open them up pointing out their weaknesses for all to see. I plan on performing a world class exploitation way more dastardly and despicable then this Sabur. I appreciate your concern for a couple of measly day laborers but seriously everything I do has purpose, it all has meaning. Like I always say, I may come across distorted but when I hand you the 3D glasses of Lively Vision everything seems crystal clear.
My friend gets my symbolic creation but still doesn't agree. As in life you find it so true in times, that it is easier just to move over then argue with someone as stubborn as myself. Sabur seems to just let it go as I drive us onward to grab a bite to eat. Who knows maybe I will take up drive through pranks next?
~Rasstlemania Is Upon Us All~
The mid morning sun shows it's glare as you feel the heat radiate off the glass. The curtain covering the window to my hotel room is drawn open as the sights of Toronto Ontario can been seen in the background. I tilt a cup backward finishing off a protein shake attempting to refuel after a great conditioning routine earlier this morning. My cut off "In Lively We Trust" t-shirt is stained with sweat as I snap my my fingers toward Chubs who had specific instructions to be ready to film upon my return. I pull out a chair from the desk in the room and place it with the window as my backdrop. I slowly take a seat with my head hung as Chubs flicks on the camera. I sit for a moment letting silence fill the air. With my head still dropped looking at the tile floor I start to quietly mutter...
Lively: There was a time when dancing bears thought we could all use a friend. A time where dreams were big and at the end of every episode of your favorite cartoon, the good guy prevailed. Well like the great spoiler of all things I will enjoy breaking the news to you that Bears don't CARE about you or you friends, they don't want you to spread hugs and kindness around the world like a movement, as if it were a new craze.
I lift my head looking toward the camera as my voice lifts from the soft tone, to one slightly more intense, as if I were giving a stern warning.
Lively: No they will swat the hair right off your head as if it were a toupee, all in hope of shaking you down for a snack. That's the animalistic nature of things, a bear will fuck you up for what they view as their survival. Just as harsh as that truth is so is this next revelation, good guys finish last.
I sit up now, not leaning on my thighs any longer. My arms rest on the sides of this chair like a teacher about to take people to school.
Lively: When was the last time you heard a news story about a home owner shooting a robber invading their home with intentions of stealing all they cherish spinning the tables of justice by suing the said home owner for all they have. Legally obtaining all they set out to take from a so called Good Guy. Quite often right? The stories are endless, and work in many facets of REAL life. Take hard working, honorable Soldiers sacrificing everything to serve a country they love. When the politicians royally fuck up everything like they always do and push comes to shove, who is the first to receive a pay cut...Ahhh the Good Guy. Yep the Politician otherwise known as the Bad Guy has their overly inflated compensation, medical benefits, and retirement ready for them at the drop of a hat. Just another example of good stumbling under the heals of the bad. Well come Rasstlemania, Michael Lively plays the role I embrace every morning when I rise. A role I was born to play, as it seems to be the theme of all my on goings...Your JESUS is indeed the Bad Guy!!! Say hello if you will, but there are only two people I hope introduce themselves to me...that's right Buckson Gooch and A.C. Smith...your proverbial Good Guys.
I smirk with pleasure thinking about my role in this wonderful world we all participate in. Then get right back to business...
Lively: I'm sure right now as we speak A.C. Smith is thinking about our match, and simply glancing past it. He is trying to envision a time where he will no longer feel me sticking in his side like a knife. His confidence full and overflowing, like a clogged toilet...spilling out the sides. Just like that toilet Smith, the shit will rise to the surface. In your case "The Hottest Shit Going". I have seen you around, I have watched your demeanor, and even looked into your eyes. You are a man who thinks he has it all figured out. A man counting his chickens before they hatch. Well, while you have been making phone calls and Pre selling your flock...A hungry wolf has snuck into the hen house. That's right I'm that wolf Smith, and while you have been riding high on the hog thinking you have life sowed up, I have been gobbling up your eggs and raping your dirty hens. This whole thing will play out like life always does. You haven't had an upper hand one moment in our little journey, it's all been a part of my master plan. Rasstlemania, in front of thousands I check you in a way you have never been checked before. REALITY, it's a heavy burden and a tough pill to swallow. I force feed it to you come bell time.
I stand from the chair moving it aside to look out the window. The fat man holding the camera steps to the side capturing me look out upon the host city to our precious spectacular.
Lively: You won't be alone Smith, your day of reckoning has brought you a companion to enjoy it with, Buckson Gooch!! A man that has tasted the thing I threaten you with...that bitter taste of defeat. I haven't built him up for it like I have you. No, I slapped this silly hog farmer with it right away. I buried it within his soul so it can spread like a disease. Overtake his body leaving him sick with nerves and violently ill with negative thoughts. If these things weren't enough to keep our resident porker from the spoils of victory. Pooch McGooch has decided to fill his plate with things more familiar to his success rate...like tag team wrestling.
I turn toward the camera folding my arms as I lean against the window with a look of disgust.
Lively: Now it will pain me to say this, Smith you have the tools to be a handful, and lord knows I'm a dangerous Cottonmouth inside the ring...every moment spent with me could be deadly. Add these two factors up and that's a hell of a night for anyone to overcome. Yet this hard headed redneck has taken up a tag team match that will take place right before our triple threat bout?
I scratch my head in confusion.
Lively: This fat prick will be worn down before I even enter the arena. Not to mention it's not even going to be televised? I understand you are desperate to make your name known...well congrats because you will be known, along with Smith, as the son of a bitch Michael Lively decimated to kick off Rasstlemania. APW welcomes in another grand event, and as the opening of the celebration they give the fans a slaughter house. It's cool folks, the JESUS will baptize the ring in blood to start us off.
I look down at my sweat soaked shirt with an evil grin.
Lively: You two aren't as prepared as me, or even ready! Neither one of you have a clue what you are in store for, I was bred for moments like this. I constantly position myself so the world and everyone around thinks I have my back against the wall...then when everyone is at their most vulnerable I strike with deadly accuracy. My poison is injected and I calmly slither on leaving people just like yourselves behind me writhing in pain. I have big plans, but first I must do what a JESUS must do. Showing you two that you are completely outclassed, out skilled and unfit for anything more then what you already have. That is my cross to bear. I will gladly hoist it on my shoulders and drag it with me toward the ring. I will gladly do what only the JESUS can, that is restore order to the un-orderly, cleanse the filth plaguing the minds of APW match makers. No more will they look upon you two as future stars, main event hopefuls. No, they will leave you right where I will, in the mid card as insignificant fillers and curtain jerkers. Rasstlemania, the ring gets covered in the blood of the lambs as the Shepard stands tall. Nothing is more shocking to the flock, then the Shepard revealing himself as the big bad wolf the entire time. That's how you will feel when the realization that I was pulling the strings through out this entire process sinks in. No worries, you aren't the first to be played, and damn sure won't be the last. When I have my way, you two will be the worst victims I have left in my wake, but serve as the prime example in which I have been preaching...
With that I quickly remove my shirt and toss it on the lens of the camera.
We are back at home in Las Vegas preparing for the biggest show of the year. Action Packed Wrestling has it's share of big events. Test for the Best generates excitement, as every participant jockeys to put their best foot forward in hopes of furthering their career. Survive and Conquer has become something similar to a time share production. People from all over the globe descend on APW for a trial run and dip their toes in the water to see if they can hack the sub zero temperatures. Those who are man, or sadly...woman enough to have stepped through the curtains under the APW banner all again tried to shine. No matter how diverse the individual, or where they see themselves in championship contention, equally we all hope to have our names printed on the final card when Jeff announces the line up for Rasstlemania!!! I could be cliche and start to summarize how big this show is. I could compare it to the Superbowl, or the World Series. Then again if you don't already understand the magnitude of Rasstlemania then I suggest you simply tune out. I can honestly say you have no further business here, and I can't waste my time trying to entertain you any longer. At this stage in the game you should understand the importance of this Pay Per View. With that being said I won't be the guy trying to convince you that this PPV, better yet this match is what I have worked my entire career for. I won't bore you with a speech about my years of hard work and dedication, and try to persuade you to believe that it is all about to pay off here, in one night. There are a number of things that will prevent me for doing any of that. First of all it's not my first rodeo nor do I intend it to be my last, not until I have scribbled a few more accolades of greatness next to my name.
This show with the companies hype, the fans excitement, and the media's attention becomes something larger then life. Some guys soak in the experience like a sponge, and by the time the bell rings they are simply bogged down and completely overcome with Mania that their best performance is next to impossible to bring forth. I understand this shows importance, respect every part of it's historic value, but I value myself and my own needs much, much more. I won't chalk it up as just another show, but you won't find me getting mushy, teary eyed or butterfly gut over it. I am walking that aisle with my goals firmly implanted in my mindset. Out work, out perform, and out class two men that aren't on my level. Do it all on the biggest stage of them all. I plan to show the world why the Wild Card is free to move up and down the ladder of success at will. My goal is to prove my theory of Smith and Gooch's mid card status as complete and indisputable fact. These two geniuses may think it's all about the Xtreme title, while I, on the other hand could care less about that championship. It's much bigger then that for me. When that bell rings, the announcer shouts out my name over the sound of AFI, and the ref hands me the Xtreme championship...as God as my witness I will hold it long enough to mark it down in the record books, enter my name in the stats...then I will drop it in the middle of the ring for Gooch and Smith to bicker over.
Then, and only then, in that moment when I walk to my locker room like a legendary veteran who has many more Rasstlemania's left to compete at, will it sink in for these men. Like getting slapped in the face by the bitch known the world over as truth the sting of reality will warmly flush their cheek as they stare at the prize they both hoped to walk out with. a prize they lost, left there like scraps left for the dogs.
Please don't take this bold thought process of mine as a disrespect to the Xtreme championship, or APW itself. It's just a peer into my mindset, a mindset that at this moment doesn't have a need for the Xtreme championship. There are titles I am interested in capturing, but lets just say I haven't made it to that chapter just quite yet. We might be heading that direction, but to get there I do know I can't have the extra baggage of the Xtreme championship weighing me down. This match, it's about me putting two men in their place, labeling them so the world can see them at their true value. Belt or no belt, I would line up all day to have an opportunity like this, on the grandest stage of them all to do it on. I consider myself the filter of this company. Filter out those unfit, weed out the unworthy, and sadly keep people meant to fill up the middle as far from the top as possible.
So with my bags packed and the tickets booked for myself and the entourage I surround myself with, there is nothing more to do then unwind, because we fly out in the morning. So here I stand in the sunlight of a mid seventy degree afternoon in the town I reside. A beat up Ford Taurus parked at my side as Sabur, Jerry O'Harrow and Chubs all make their way out side. You could tell they were uneasy by the look on their faces a few minutes ago when I told them I was bored and that we needed to go do something.
Like game show contestants of Fear Factor these men nervously walk forward not sure what shenanigans wait for them. Luckily for my crew I am not into watching people eat animal testicles, or quiver while covered in bugs. I have another form of amusement in mind.
Lively: Alright guys...I'm driving!!
Collectively they all groan as they remember what happened in Europe when I drove on the wrong side of the road.
Lively: Sabur you and Chubs are in the back. Chubs you brought the camera like I asked?
My fat cameraman nods his head. Jerry O'Harrow smirks toward Sabur and Chubs as he walks toward the passenger side of this beat down sedan.
Jerry: Haha shotgun bitches!!
Lively: Whoa!!
Jerry pauses as he reaches for the handle. His eyes looking my direction as I wave him over.
Lively: Come here, did you bring the pillow case?
Jerry nods holding it up. I grab it from the drunken, washed up wrestler and then walk toward the trunk. With a turn of the key I pop the luggage compartment of this vehicle.
Lively: You get to ride back here Jerry.
Jerry: What? No, you are kidding right?
The look on my face is not one of someone about to break from seriousness.
Lively: Listen Jerry you are about to play a very important part in this little expedition we are about to embark.
I lean over whispering in the guys ear and what I explained to him not only gave birth to a smile on his face but coaxed him in the trunk. I slam the lid shut as I spin the key ring around my pointer finger and jump in the drivers seat. Chubs seated right behind me and holds up the camera as I turn back looking toward he and Sabur.
Lively: Alright Chubs lets just say we are making a viral video, you film it how you see it.
The fat guy still unsure what's going down just nods in agreement as I fire up the engine. I click this clunker into gear and drive off. After a few turns and a couple of stop signs we make it out onto a main road. With a target insight I gas up the car to a fast speed and roll down the drivers window. Going sixty miles an hour I rip the steering wheel making a tire screeching right turn into the parking lot of a Home Depot hardware store causing a big scene. I quickly look back to the camera.
Lively: I'm Michael Lively and this is the Day Laborer!!!
I lock up the brakes as we pull up on what I presume are illegal immigrants gathered outside this hardware store. They are lined up along a fence on the right side of my car and I climb out the window of the car quickly looking toward them.
Lively: I need one guy...UNO, and you better understand English!!!
One guy runs over as I slide back into the drivers seat. I reach over propping open the passenger door. No sooner then he gets his ass in the seat I floor it taking off screeching the front tires of this junk heap. The door flies backward as this guy scrambles to get in and shut it to safely keep him inside. I barrel out of the parking lot as Chubs films this entire thing. This gentleman I have just picked up looks nervous as I say not a single world. He cautiously looks back to see Chubs with a video camera pointed his direction and my huge steroid infested body guard Sabur with his man eating, blood thirsty stare. This guy swallows nervously as he looks forward just as I rip us around a corner, just as hot as I pulled in when I picked him up a minute ago. I lock up the brakes as we stop in an alley. Unsure what is going on the guy looks at me. I offer up nothing just a blank stare forward with my hands still clutching the wheel. Suddenly I break the silence.
Lively: You a hard worker boy?
The man replies with a crackling voice saying yes.
Lively: Well, I can't really tell you where we are going...
With that I slowly turn my head toward staring him in the eyes making the situation even more awkward. I take my right hand off the steering wheel and grab the pillow case from my lap. I extend it toward my passenger not saying a word. He grabs it unsure what I am asking him to do.
Lively: Are you an illegal??
The guy nods his head nervously answering yes.
Lively: Then you know the drill...pillow case it up!!!
Full of tension and nerves my passenger reluctantly places the pillowcase over his head shielding himself from seeing anything. Not skipping a beat I quickly ask him in my most intense and serious voice.
Lively: You good with a shovel?
I here again a nervous voice muttering out the word yes.
Lively: Great we need you to dig us a hole...
With that Jerry O'Harrow begins kicking and screaming in the trunk as if right on cue.
Jerry: Let me out of here...HELP!!!
My recently acquired Day Laborer rips the pillow case off his head, and looks around before he speaks again.
Laborer: I...I can't be a part of this...
Lively: A part of what?
Again Jerry causes a commotion. The guy reaches for the door handle opening the door, but before he steps out I quickly grab his wrist.
Lively: HEY!! You never saw us! Don't forget I got you on video, so I will find you!!!
The guy leaps from the car and breaks out in his best Jamaican sprinter impersonation by booking it down the street. I can't help myself as I blurt out into full laughter. No one else in the car laughs but you can hear Jerry yelling from the trunk.
Jerry: Did it work? Tell me he freaked out??
I yell back to Jerry to inform him it was priceless. Sabur having a conscious, shakes his head as I fire up the car and drive off to another destination. I quickly scream out...
Lively: Jerry, round two!!!
With that I gas it up once more. I drive toward a Lowes hardware store. Again I come in hot and rip this shit can of a car to a screeching halt with smoke coming off the rather bald tires. I step out looking at the waiting Hispanic men who all lean forward hoping I may have a job for them.
Lively: UNO, I need one, and you need to understand English.
Again an eager gentlemen steps up hoping to make a days wage. I step back in the car as he takes a seat as my passenger. We drive off a little more calmly this time. As we come to the first stop light I engage in conversation to ease this guys nerves.
Lively: What's your name?
"Pepe"
Lively: Alright Pepe, just out trying to make some money today?
Pepe: Si...I mean J'es!
Lively: Seems like a hard way to make a buck. I mean there had to be about sixty or seventy of you back there, all hoping to get picked.
Pepe: J'es sir! Tis hard.
Lively: And here it is your lucky day? You are riding passenger ready to earn some money.
Pepe: Thank You Señor!
This guy still hasn't noticed the fat guy in the back seat filming, he is just happy as could be to have what he thinks is an opportunity. Sadly I'm the dream crusher and will enjoy shattering his momentarily.
Lively: Let me ask you Pepe, why not just get a regular job like most Americans. You know a job where you pay taxes, and contribute to this country?
Taken back by my tone and questioning Pepe looks my direction.
Pepe: Well Señor I no have papers!
At this point the man notices Chubs pointing a camera at him.
Lively: Oh no papers, so you are here illegally?
Pepe hesitates to answer the question knowing he is being filmed.
Lively: Pepe...didn't you just say you had no papers?
Nothing but silence as this fellow seems to have taken to our countries rights by invoking his right to remain silent. I try to calm him down.
Lively: Is the camera making you nervous Pepe? I'm sorry bud, it's for my protection, I mean I just picked up a random stranger to come to my home and help me move furniture...relax man I don't care if you are an illegal immigrant.
I pat the guy on the shoulder as we round the corner. He smiles as my reasoning seems to have eased his tension.
Pepe: Sorry Señor I just get nervous, I don't want to get deported, no papers!
Lively: So you are illegal then?
Pepe nods his head yes as I quickly lock the brakes of this Ford Taurus. With the blink of an eye I slap a pair of handcuffs on his wrist and firmly grab the seat belt to prevent him from bolting.
Pepe: Señor...no Señor!
The guy shakes his head as I grab a roll of duct tape. I rip off a piece and place over his mouth to keep him from further trying to pour out guilt. Sadly it falls upon deaf ears either way, how does it go "ain't nobody got time fo dat".
Lively: Now I'm sure you are curious what is going down...
Just on cue Jerry starts kicking and mumbling from the trunk creating lots of noise and helping to sell the gravity of this situation for Pepe.
Lively: I'm a Wolf! You know what a Wolf is?
Pepe shakes his head no.
Lively: Do you know what a Coyote is?
Pepe shakes his head yes knowing about the smugglers for hire that help people like himself get across the border.
Lively: Well a Wolf is the opposite of a Coyote. I yoke up a trunk full of you assholes, drive you back across the border and collect a fee for each one!!
Pepe looks extremely disappointed and concerned as I step out of the car. I walk around opening his door and unbuckling him. I grab him by the collar as Jerry starts up with the noise again.
Lively: I got one of your home boys in there, and the way I see it I can fit about three more of you bastards in there before I make the drive...
I walk him to the trunk and let him go. I move slowly acting like I am going to pop open the trunk. Pepe with duct tape on his mouth and his hands cuffed in front of his body sees his opportunity and ran off like a man desperate to save his own life. I open the trunk to free Jerry as we both break out in laughter. I clutch my stomach as tears fill my eyes from extreme belly rumbling chuckles. We both walk back to the front of the car and sit down. I try to catch my breath.
Lively: Whew my cheeks hurt...
Jerry: I can't wait to watch the video.
Sabur: You know that was pretty despicable!
I turn around toward my body guard who is obviously seated upon his horse of humanity.
Sabur: Not only was that kind of distasteful, but it is borderline racist and an exploitation!
Lively: Sure I know numerous people will lump those actions into a box of inappropriate. They will view my video prank as racist. Many will think of me as an asshole exploiting those men for my own satisfaction or enjoyment...
My body guard not on board with my actions just glares at me.
Lively: I don't expect anyone to take it as a learning lesson. I don't think many people will take it for what I meant it to be. This stunt or prank was meant to serve as warning for A.C. Smith and Buckson Gooch.
Sabur: What kind of warning was that??
Lively: I am a master of finding weakness. When I do, I skillfully use your weakness anyway I please to benefit my needs. Today these illegal immigrants had Michael Lively pick on their weakness for my entertainment purposes. Rasstlemania I will pick apart Smith and Gooch, on display in front of millions of people I will turn them inside out. I will open them up pointing out their weaknesses for all to see. I plan on performing a world class exploitation way more dastardly and despicable then this Sabur. I appreciate your concern for a couple of measly day laborers but seriously everything I do has purpose, it all has meaning. Like I always say, I may come across distorted but when I hand you the 3D glasses of Lively Vision everything seems crystal clear.
My friend gets my symbolic creation but still doesn't agree. As in life you find it so true in times, that it is easier just to move over then argue with someone as stubborn as myself. Sabur seems to just let it go as I drive us onward to grab a bite to eat. Who knows maybe I will take up drive through pranks next?
~Rasstlemania Is Upon Us All~
The mid morning sun shows it's glare as you feel the heat radiate off the glass. The curtain covering the window to my hotel room is drawn open as the sights of Toronto Ontario can been seen in the background. I tilt a cup backward finishing off a protein shake attempting to refuel after a great conditioning routine earlier this morning. My cut off "In Lively We Trust" t-shirt is stained with sweat as I snap my my fingers toward Chubs who had specific instructions to be ready to film upon my return. I pull out a chair from the desk in the room and place it with the window as my backdrop. I slowly take a seat with my head hung as Chubs flicks on the camera. I sit for a moment letting silence fill the air. With my head still dropped looking at the tile floor I start to quietly mutter...
Lively: There was a time when dancing bears thought we could all use a friend. A time where dreams were big and at the end of every episode of your favorite cartoon, the good guy prevailed. Well like the great spoiler of all things I will enjoy breaking the news to you that Bears don't CARE about you or you friends, they don't want you to spread hugs and kindness around the world like a movement, as if it were a new craze.
I lift my head looking toward the camera as my voice lifts from the soft tone, to one slightly more intense, as if I were giving a stern warning.
Lively: No they will swat the hair right off your head as if it were a toupee, all in hope of shaking you down for a snack. That's the animalistic nature of things, a bear will fuck you up for what they view as their survival. Just as harsh as that truth is so is this next revelation, good guys finish last.
I sit up now, not leaning on my thighs any longer. My arms rest on the sides of this chair like a teacher about to take people to school.
Lively: When was the last time you heard a news story about a home owner shooting a robber invading their home with intentions of stealing all they cherish spinning the tables of justice by suing the said home owner for all they have. Legally obtaining all they set out to take from a so called Good Guy. Quite often right? The stories are endless, and work in many facets of REAL life. Take hard working, honorable Soldiers sacrificing everything to serve a country they love. When the politicians royally fuck up everything like they always do and push comes to shove, who is the first to receive a pay cut...Ahhh the Good Guy. Yep the Politician otherwise known as the Bad Guy has their overly inflated compensation, medical benefits, and retirement ready for them at the drop of a hat. Just another example of good stumbling under the heals of the bad. Well come Rasstlemania, Michael Lively plays the role I embrace every morning when I rise. A role I was born to play, as it seems to be the theme of all my on goings...Your JESUS is indeed the Bad Guy!!! Say hello if you will, but there are only two people I hope introduce themselves to me...that's right Buckson Gooch and A.C. Smith...your proverbial Good Guys.
I smirk with pleasure thinking about my role in this wonderful world we all participate in. Then get right back to business...
Lively: I'm sure right now as we speak A.C. Smith is thinking about our match, and simply glancing past it. He is trying to envision a time where he will no longer feel me sticking in his side like a knife. His confidence full and overflowing, like a clogged toilet...spilling out the sides. Just like that toilet Smith, the shit will rise to the surface. In your case "The Hottest Shit Going". I have seen you around, I have watched your demeanor, and even looked into your eyes. You are a man who thinks he has it all figured out. A man counting his chickens before they hatch. Well, while you have been making phone calls and Pre selling your flock...A hungry wolf has snuck into the hen house. That's right I'm that wolf Smith, and while you have been riding high on the hog thinking you have life sowed up, I have been gobbling up your eggs and raping your dirty hens. This whole thing will play out like life always does. You haven't had an upper hand one moment in our little journey, it's all been a part of my master plan. Rasstlemania, in front of thousands I check you in a way you have never been checked before. REALITY, it's a heavy burden and a tough pill to swallow. I force feed it to you come bell time.
I stand from the chair moving it aside to look out the window. The fat man holding the camera steps to the side capturing me look out upon the host city to our precious spectacular.
Lively: You won't be alone Smith, your day of reckoning has brought you a companion to enjoy it with, Buckson Gooch!! A man that has tasted the thing I threaten you with...that bitter taste of defeat. I haven't built him up for it like I have you. No, I slapped this silly hog farmer with it right away. I buried it within his soul so it can spread like a disease. Overtake his body leaving him sick with nerves and violently ill with negative thoughts. If these things weren't enough to keep our resident porker from the spoils of victory. Pooch McGooch has decided to fill his plate with things more familiar to his success rate...like tag team wrestling.
I turn toward the camera folding my arms as I lean against the window with a look of disgust.
Lively: Now it will pain me to say this, Smith you have the tools to be a handful, and lord knows I'm a dangerous Cottonmouth inside the ring...every moment spent with me could be deadly. Add these two factors up and that's a hell of a night for anyone to overcome. Yet this hard headed redneck has taken up a tag team match that will take place right before our triple threat bout?
I scratch my head in confusion.
Lively: This fat prick will be worn down before I even enter the arena. Not to mention it's not even going to be televised? I understand you are desperate to make your name known...well congrats because you will be known, along with Smith, as the son of a bitch Michael Lively decimated to kick off Rasstlemania. APW welcomes in another grand event, and as the opening of the celebration they give the fans a slaughter house. It's cool folks, the JESUS will baptize the ring in blood to start us off.
I look down at my sweat soaked shirt with an evil grin.
Lively: You two aren't as prepared as me, or even ready! Neither one of you have a clue what you are in store for, I was bred for moments like this. I constantly position myself so the world and everyone around thinks I have my back against the wall...then when everyone is at their most vulnerable I strike with deadly accuracy. My poison is injected and I calmly slither on leaving people just like yourselves behind me writhing in pain. I have big plans, but first I must do what a JESUS must do. Showing you two that you are completely outclassed, out skilled and unfit for anything more then what you already have. That is my cross to bear. I will gladly hoist it on my shoulders and drag it with me toward the ring. I will gladly do what only the JESUS can, that is restore order to the un-orderly, cleanse the filth plaguing the minds of APW match makers. No more will they look upon you two as future stars, main event hopefuls. No, they will leave you right where I will, in the mid card as insignificant fillers and curtain jerkers. Rasstlemania, the ring gets covered in the blood of the lambs as the Shepard stands tall. Nothing is more shocking to the flock, then the Shepard revealing himself as the big bad wolf the entire time. That's how you will feel when the realization that I was pulling the strings through out this entire process sinks in. No worries, you aren't the first to be played, and damn sure won't be the last. When I have my way, you two will be the worst victims I have left in my wake, but serve as the prime example in which I have been preaching...
With that I quickly remove my shirt and toss it on the lens of the camera.
