One's Road to Rasslemania p.2: The Apology

[Level-Two]

One's Road to Rasslemania p.2: The Apology

Rasslemania.

There is no other wrestling event in the world quite like it. It is the accumulation of a year’s worth of hard work leading up to this one night where all the marbles lay on the table. It doesn't matter what you've done in the preseason and your past is only an indication of how bright or dim your future is - a victory at Rasslemania is what matters the most.

This event is the only event where your spot on the card is merely a formality - just being a part of it in of itself is an accomplishment. At any point from the show opener to the show closure you could be witnessing the match of the night or perhaps even century. Rasslemania marks the conclusion of many heated rivalries, title reigns and eras every year and Rasslemania IX will prove to be no different.

Last year, an old friend of mine was asked a question by his opponent Sally Talfourd. She asked him, ''what does the APW mean to you?'' To this date, I don't think she ever came away with an answer she was satisfied with but a year later he's still here and she isn't.

I can't help but think maybe we were all asking the wrong people the wrong questions.

- Andrew Meltzer

Her name is Dr. Laura Madeen - she's a sports psychologist without the legal paper work to show for it whom was recruited to work for the Sindicate through proxy. Dr. Madeen had connections with Dr. Amy Rosen a former wrestler in the now defunct EWC. While her name may be an unfamiliar to those unaware of her works; she is largely considered the greatest strategically tuned mind in the business.

He met with her in preparation for his match at Rasslemania.

''So tell me, Lester… how do you feel about your preparation for this event...''

In a chair directly across from her - he spoke.

''It's been great, ma'am. Really, I couldn't thank you anymore for everything you've done but I'd be lying if I said the events of last year’s Rasslemania didn't weigh heavily in the back of my mind.''

''Sally Talfourd.'' Dr. Madeen was well researched. ''Mr. Only, I know this may make you extremely uncomfortable given your past with Ms. Talfourd but after our in-depth sessions I can't help but come to the conclusions that you had feelings towards her.

''Feelings?'' Lester snarled. ''Yeah, anger. Hate. She made me fucking sick.''

''No, Lester.'' Dr. Madden stated sternly. ''Lust. Desire. Passion. You developed feelings for Sally Talfourd before the two of you feel apart, didn't you?''

''Hell no!’’

Dr. Madeen smiled. ''You'll never admit it Lester but you know as well as I do there was a reason you didn't win that match last year.''

''What the hell is even your point?''

''Well...'' Dr. Madeen said getting comfortable. ''I don't think you'll have the same problem with Biggs this year - at least, I would hope.''

''Fuck off...'' Lester hissed. ''Let's just say I was dealing with a few distractions that may or may have not affected the final outcome. Though, I assure you this will not be the case at Rasslemania nine...''

''Please - enlighten me.''

It was the time when you introduced me Sgt. Vishis. You know, the crazed United States Marine who was recruited to instill discipline, motivation and a brand new focus in me? Well, I never got along with authority figures and I didn't see why I'd start now. After he tried to scold me like I was a misbehaved teen girl on Maury, I said fuck it and left him right there on the spot.

I never thought he'd actually follow me all the way to the bar that night.

''Hey Les, the usual?'' The bartender asked. He was fairly familiar with me on the LA party scene and already had plain ol' can of coke in his hand.

''I'm predictable, aren't I?'' I said in a moment of reflection. ''I'll order a coke, grab a few chicks numbers I'll never call back and leave in about an hour - won't I!?''

''Yeah, I guess?'' The bartender responded.

''I can't be predictable - not against Biggs. He's too smart. He'll pick up on my movements. He'll be one step head of me and he'll determine his own rhythm. I need to mix it up. How the hell do I mix it up!?'' I said frustrated as ever.

''How about vodka?'' The bartender said.

I slapped the table top hard disturbing several glasses of alcohol nearby.

''That's it!'' I declared. ''Give me some vodka!''

I never drank a glass of alcohol in my life but I was desperate for a change, I was desperate for something else. He gave me a drink but before I could take a sip the glass was knocked out of my hands and there he stood... Sgt. Vishis.

''YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS! YOU WILL NOT GIVE IN SOLIDER - ARE MY ORDERS CLEAR!?''

Did I mention Sgt. Vishis was an intense dude?

''I AM HERE TO ENSURE THAT YOU ARE READY FOR BIGGS BOTH PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY AND YOU WILL BE, IS THAT UNDERSTOOD SOLDIER?'' Sgt. Vishis roared gaining the attention of other patrons.

''Well, what about emotionally?''

''NOBODY HAS TIME FOR THAT CUPCAKE!''

I stood up in attempt to move past Sgt. Vishis but he put a hand to my chest and smiled and his tone completely changed in what I could only describe as a heart to heart.

''Come on - take a seat, kid.''

The change of tone was appreciated so I obliged and entertained his request by taking a seat on a stool beside him.

''Sargent, you're right...'' I said as I watched the bitter bartender clean up the spilt drink. ''That isn't me - none of this is me.''

''I know it isn’t.'' Sgt. Vishis assured me. ''Mr. Only, you are a warrior and I know this because I've watched you be one for many years while I served tours overseas. Like most warriors, you were meant to be respected not worshiped.''

''You know, I guess through all the twitter trends - celebrity endorsements - and TV big deal I forgot about what really matters.''

''I think it's time to let it all go once and for all, soldier.'' Sgt. Vishis said putting an arm around my shoulder.

''Well, the television deal DOES expire after Mania… but I can't wait until then to abandon that life style for it will already have been too late. Thanks sarg, your advice is a game changer.''

''It's no problem.'' Sgt. Vishis said before he ironically decided to order vodka himself. ''They'll never see you coming and then that's when you hit em' and you hit em' hard.''

Dr. Madeen transcribed everything Level-One had said in her notebook keeping a detailed record concerning her client. She was elated to hear this news.

''I am glad to hear the meeting with Sgt. Vishis went over well, Lester. I've watched fame destroy many careers in my short history as humans are not meant to be kept in glass cages. Please - can you warn your friend Terry Marvin about the dangers of this lifestyle?''

''Yeah.'' Level-One lied. ''I'll be sure to give him the heads up.''

''Lester, I'd also like to inform you that your guest list has been approved and any airfare and hotel expenses have been covered on our behalf in Toronto. To ensure that you are in a favorable environment at Rasslemania we have also given front row tickets to several to your super fans and banned your mother from the arena.''

''Thanks.'' Lester snarled.

''Lastly, I must say I was impressed with your last promo and how you decided to handle that miscreant Biggs.'' Dr. Madeen said with a smile. ''I assume the meeting went well with the behaviorist?''

Well, let's just say I was on my best... behavior. Pun fully intended.

The name was Kit Kat Stacks and to this day, I couldn't determine its gender without being politically incorrect. Nonetheless ''it'' identified as ''she'' and ''she'' owned ''her'' own fetish sex shop located in down town, LA. Kit Kat wore an all-black dominatrix outfit and held a whip in her hands.

''Have a seat.'' She told me.

I'm no push over but I took a seat. Upon doing so, I felt something unfamiliar under my ass and it wasn't fire.

''The fuck...'' I uttered in disgust as I picked up the adult sex toy. ''Is this yours?''

The dominatrix quickly took the dildo from my hands and I never thought I’d say that.

''So, I understand that Dr. Madeen sent you here to learn a little lesson in humility!''

Kit Kat flexed her whip as I wiped my hands on the cuff of my jeans in a futile attempt to cleanse myself from an STD.

''Yeah, something like that...'' I said to the behemoth of the figure in front of me. ''Though, I think our definitions of a full mount differ a wee little bit in context. See, I'm a wrestler... not a porn star.''

Kit Kat smiled. ''Lester, I am very familiar with your work. In the early 90's, I too was a wrestler myself. I was never really known for my ring work but there was nobody better than me on the mic...''

Kit Kat held the sex toy to her mouth as if it was a microphone which prompted me to say; ''On the behalf of Biggs himself - I can honestly say Jesus doesn't love you!''

Kit Kat whipped me on my thigh.

''Naughty boy! As one of the greatest promo shooters of all time - I laugh at your feeble attempts to sell your opponent’s! The world knows what Biggs is capable of and treating him like a second class citizen will only hurt your credibility whether you win or lose.''

''Well, I know I am better than Biggs. So what should I do? Am I supposed to go out there and pretend that I am not like our precious fan favorites?''

This time she whipped me on my back. It hurt.

''No, bad boy!'' Kit Kat roared. ''I want you to pick up the microphone and speak from your heart rather than trying to live up to some sort of image of a villain your corporate owners portray and help perpetuate!''

Dr. Madeen cut his side of the story short as she interjected with a question. ''It's not all an act, is it?''

''No not at all but perhaps I've been buying into my own hype along the way turning me into an over exaggeration of myself. It's complex and it's something I don't fully understand but this business makes you feel like you have a certain role to play.''

''So, you scaled things back?''

''Not quite.'' Level-One said as he leaned back in his chair. ''Kat Stacks taught me that there's two ways to say fuck you. The first being, well... fuck you.''

''What about the second?''

He smiled. ''Well, that's the beauty of it - isn't it? The second way takes a bit more time - a bit more creativity but surely it'll sting a hundred times more than the measly word itself ever could.''

''Well Lester, I'm happy to tell you that everything looks to be in tip top shape. Your nutritionist tells me that you have adapted well to your diet plan and tests shows that your cardio is at peak conditions heading into Rasslemania.'' Dr. Madeen leaned forward. ''Lester, if there is anything you want to talk about before you leave here today, I'm all ears.''

''Yeah, I do.'' Level-One confessed with a sigh. ''The billion dollar briefcase, it's gone. They stole it and they have my ex-girlfriend Patricia Lewis held hostage.''

''What!?'' Dr. Madeen said in a panic as she threw her note pad to the floor. ''How is this possible? Why have I not heard of this!? Do you know how something like this is going to effect your performance on Sunday - Lester, all this work... all of it is compromised!''

''No, it isn't...''

A few hours ago I had my last training session with a man named Peter Volsky. Peter Volsky is a professional boxer so I figured implementing a few of his techniques would help me in my match at Rasslemania... you know, catch Biggs by surprise.

''There you go!'' Peter Volsky smiled as I slammed a right hand into my sparring partner’s waist dropping him to the mat before locking in a triangle choke. ''Wrong sport!’’

Peter Volsky had to pull my off the poor son of a bitch and then signaled for a break as he walked me out of the ring.

''Thanks for helping me prepare, Peter.'' I said - appreciative of his time.

''Don't thank me.'' Peter said sternly. ''I am just doing what I need to do to get Patricia back in one piece, Lester. You need to understand that my work in all of this ends with you.''

''So if I lose - what are you going to do?'' I said before proceeding to mock him further. ''Are you going to beat me up?''

Peter Volsky wasn't in a good mood and I don't think he cared to put much belief into me at all. He didn't say anything as he reached into his pocket and pulled out some Polaroid’s handing them over to me.

''You need to win, Lester.'' Peter Volksy said on the verge of tears. ''Look at those pictures man - they're going to fucking kill her if you don't!''

I couldn't do it. I couldn't look at those pictures. If I did - perhaps I would've seen something that would've changed my perspective on life, forever.

I all I knew is – I had to win.



For a split second, Patricia Lewis is blinded by the flash of a camera. With her hands tied up over her head two hooded figures walk over and cut her ties loose. She fixes up her hair and calmly takes a seat on a nearby sofa in the dingy room. ''This all went exactly as planned!''

She would further explain.

''It was just over a year ago that my ex-boyfriend Lester Only came back to the APW to seek out a fifth undisputed championship title reign against my best wishes. He said that he'd step away from it all and we'd raise our two kids together - we'd live on a farm outside of city limits, in peace!’’ Patricia explained as she wiped away a tear.

''I soon learned that it was all a lie.''

''So, I came up with this elaborate scheme. It all started a few weeks ago when Level-One stayed with me while he was being hunted for this stupid little briefcase of his. I showed him how much I truly cared about him by letting him hide out and I wanted to see how much he cared about me - so, we staged a kidnapping on live television. Do you know what happened the next day?''

Patricia shook her head in disgust.

''Lester went to work. He decided it was more important to wrestle some jackass who calls himself Shadow and save his precious Rasslemania match with Biggs then to rescue me from the grasps of danger!'' Patricia cried. ‘’I thought he loved me!?’’

‘’I was such a fool!’’ Patricia exclaimed. ‘’Sick and tired of competing with him and wrestling we lured him up to the APW headquarters and stole the briefcase but knowing Lester, he never planned to hand it over without a fight and he’d try to keep both me and the briefcase.’’

‘’This was my way of getting the man I love back! He may not care about me but he cares about his briefcase enough to beat Biggs at Rasslemania. I have nothing against Biggs but my only chance of having a life with Lester Only is if he has a life without wrestling.’’

‘’I know it would hurt him if he heard this but I don’t believe he’s good enough, anymore. I don’t believe he has what it takes to beat Terry Marvin or CJ Gates and once he gets the chance to find this out himself, he will have no choice but to give it up!’’

Patricia wipes at her smeared make up and finally allows a smile to crack a face full of pain and misery.

‘’I'm sorry baby, I’m just finally giving you something worth fighting for.’’

---

I'm sorry, Biggs.

I am sorry that after all this time, I haven't treated you as the threat you really were. It was a mistake I was warned about the first night I stepped into the ring and a mistake I thought I was above making since then. At the extreme tournament in 2009 after I beat Black Death I became the man I always wanted to be but also one my envy never fully understood.

I am sorry for the fans that watched as I became my own hype man whom was more concerned with building himself up on a microphone rather than inside the confines of the ring. While there was no doubt I was the best, it wasn't a valid excuse for not being better. As a result of my complacency at the top, I made a hero out of peasant who's picture will now one day hang on the wall of fame as if he is someone to be respected rather than spit upon and laughed at. It was my failure, my lapse of judgment - it was my fault that I created Biggs.

I am sorry that because of my mistake you never truly got to experience the title rein you would otherwise deserve when you fully matured many years from now and when I made the decision to finally retire. As a result of my indiscretions- a boy, a child fell face first into a cold harsh world he was never really ready for. And while I can honestly say you have made many great strides into maturing into a healthy adult - it's merely contributed to the fact that I have forced you to grow up. Biggs, you were never fit for such a big responsibility like being the undisputed champion and because I didn't put in the work to beat you, I feel like I selfishly robbed you of your childhood innocence.

I am sorry that no matter what you do from this day forward will always pale in comparison to that night on July, 3rd, 2011. If it wasn't for me, you'd be able to hold the Overdrive or tag team championships without being looked at as a failure. You'd be able to wrestle your throw away matches and not be criticized for losing in a flimsy thirty seconds to AC Smith because nobody would expect anything more from you! Though, we both know that isn't the case and it's because of me turning you into a folk hero that you must maintain a pace all signs point towards you falling behind on, Biggs.

I am sorry that for several weeks on end I had blamed you for putting a 500, 000 dollar bounty on my head in what was a failed attempt to steal my briefcase. As it turns out, you really were innocent - perhaps, it's a call I would've made if I pretended that I was as ignorant as you are to the shady dealings of your own past, Biggs. I understand you have gotten cozy in the comfort of your very own glass house but I'd recommend you don't throw rocks from it in fear that you'd pull a muscle and actually give you a valid excuse for why you lost to me at Rasslemania IX. While you may have not been the perpetrator you never attempted to get to the bottom of it yourself because if you did, that'd actually make you the half decent guy you falsely portray. Instead, you strung me along like the coward you are for the big reveal at the last moment! Thus, you are no better - perhaps even worse - than the actual perpetrators in my eyes.

I am sorry I didn't entertain your countless attempts to lure me into a steel cage in which is a rather fitting environment for a pest like you! If I had let you, you would have only taken it as some type of mental victory you'd hold over me at a later date. While you are under the misconception that you have an advantage in any type of match within a steel structure, I see it as giving you less space to run to exercise the cowardice you often display. And to think here I am ready to take you to war and the only thing on your mind is how to get me into a steel cage so you can use your speed advantage to climb up a cage wall, throw yourself up and over the top and call yourself a winner with the least amount of energy exerted - wow Biggs, now that's what champions are made of!

I am sorry that when you step foot in Toronto, you won't be enjoying the support of the crowd because of me. You're not wrestling down south with a bunch uneducated Buckson Gooch fans – you’re not wrestling in Seattle in front of hipsters and trendy city dwellers and we're not wrestling in the UK were everything needs to be ''proper'' or even in Japan with a bunch of passive fans who hardly make any goddamned noise to begin with. You're in Toronto, Canada – where fans remember the history between us better than we do and know that you're no less of a bastard than I am just because you've decided to pander crowds desperate for a new hero to dethrone Terry Marvin and stop the Sindicate once and for all.

I am sorry that nobody ever taught you the meaning of loyalty - then again, in this day in age I guess it's not a prerequisite you need to be cheered on by the fans anymore! Loyalty - if it was something you actually had maybe you wouldn't be urging me to break apart from my friend and tag team partner. We may fight, argue and treat each other like shit but there is a lot of things you don't see behind closed doors. I am the person whom brought Terry Marvin into the Sindicate in the first place and I'll be damned if I'm the one to walk away from it all! Biggs, I put up with Terry Marvin and his antics not because I fear him but because I want MY Sindicate to succeed. It's a shame that after all the years you never stood for anything - maybe then, you'd actually understand.

I am sorry that you think I am content with my position around here. I'm not. You think I enjoy not being in the main event against Terry Marvin at Rasslemania? Shit, you think I sat around at Christmas Chaos writing lists to Santa Claus in hopes his fat little midgets would get off their lazy asses and book me in a match at Rasslemania with you!? NO! This is an important match Biggs but it isn’t that important. The fact of the matter is, you're right; I had my chance to main event Rasslemania and I blew it. Shame on me. However do you honestly believe the morale, the righteous, the fair and honest thing to do would be for me to have already cashed my billion dollar briefcase on an unexpecting friend given those circumstances, Biggs?

I'm sorry not everyone is a coward like you...

I am sorry that your word means nothing, Biggs. For me? These days, my word is about the last thing I got - so grab a pencil and mark it down for the record. I gave the Sindicate and Terry my word that I wouldn't cash the briefcase in at Mania and I plan to hold true to that. I am not doing it because I am good guy, I am doing it because I said I would. The fact is, you're slating me for not cashing my briefcase in on Terry Marvin’s supposed terms - yet, you spend time telling the world how I should've done it on yours instead. How about I say fuck you both and I cash it on on MY terms as I plan? The fact is, I am not READY to cash in my briefcase until I defeat you once and for all.

I am sorry the meaning behind this match escapes you. I don't know why, it's pretty simple! You are the person who put an end to my last title reign 629 days ago as I am sure you have kept track of on your calendar you geek! However, before I am to hold it again - I believe I must defeat you first. Perhaps it's nothing more than a silly concept - the same way successfully defending the undisputed championship is to you but to me? It's a big deal and it's a shame you can't fully grasp the gravity of this situation but perhaps it's a side effect of being out of this world! Well, here in the realm of reality Biggs? You don't leave unfinished business to sit out and catch flies. The way I see it even if I did short circuit my way to a fifth title reign - what's it really worth if this age old question; ''Level-One or Biggs?'' wasn't solved. I don't know but can't help but imagine authenticity of my title reign wouldn't be as solid as the gold but alas not as flimsy as the paper yours was printed on, either.

I am sorry that patience isn't one of your strong suits. Fact is, I never liked math and I am pretty sure your crunching of the numbers doesn't factor in reality. Yeah, I protested. Yeah, I made demands. Yeah, I wanted that title match with Terry Marvin at Christmas Chaos but my pleas fell on deaf ears - didn't they? The APW management didn't believe in me and used your unexpected second place finish in the elimination to milk another successful title defense out of Terry Marvin. Biggs, if anything... you of all people taught me how to be patient! You showed me that you weren't READY to be undisputed champion. You showed me you weren't READY to beat Terry Marvin. And lastly, you showed me you weren't READY when you stole my briefcase and tried to desperately cash it in a week later! Though your only problem was - you aren't as smart as you think you are and we were already one step ahead of you. That's right Biggs. If I did things on YOUR watch? I would've tried to cash in the briefcase, I would've failed miserably and have I would have nothing at all to show for it!

I am sorry that while I have been preparing hard for this match, you've decided to play dress up with your little friends at the virgin’s convention. While we're at it - please send my sincerest apologies to Sr. Guapo and Stan Everdeen for their careers I have helped ruined and put their hearts at ease knowing that I am aiming for the trifecta with you, Biggs. I want you to remember that you have a date with me inside the Hell in the Cell just in case your selective memory is at work, again. I hope that new girl you met at the virgins convention is open to the idea of dating a paraplegic or a man whom has been beaten within an inch of his life and can only communicate with the one's he loves by blinking twice for the rest of his life. Rasslemania isn't going to be the love story you're looking for...

Sorry, Gary.

I am sorry for the irreversible damage I have already done to you and your psyche as a result of me trashing you over the span of several years. Admittedly, you looked up to me. You wanted my respect. You needed my guidance and rather than nurturing that - I told you to fuck off and die. As a result, your lack of self-esteem has clearly reared its ugly head! You are under the false impression that I see you as an easy out and a safe alternative to wrestling Terry Marvin but the truth is, I merely see you as the next best thing! Sure, I made some unflattering statements concerning your talent but that was me just playing the game in hopes I could sway APW management my way and give me what I deserved! In the name of full disclosure you can say what you want but in this business; the fans and the media eat up every word we say, so - who am I to tell them they can't eat cake?

I am sorry to see that you are already showing the signs of a man who's being mentally broken down - I am sure all your fans found it rather cute that you repeatedly called me a bitch. I'm sure a lot of your fans are seizing at their keyboards because they never thought you'd never use such a provocative word in the year 2013 and because you did so, you MUST mean business! Truth be told, I can only smile. You've been a bad boy but I won't hold soap to your tongue and scold your for you bad behavior - rather, I'll knock your teeth out for not telling us how you really felt sooner, you phony! A month ago, I probably wouldn't have picked up on this sign of a mental break but now you've earned yourself every bit of my attention, Biggs.

Biggs, I don’t know how many more times I can say it. I am sorry!

I am sorry for being me!

I am sorry for being the best!

I am sorry that you’re not!

I am sorry that you are you!

I am sorry for everything I have done!

I am sorry for everything I didn’t do!

I am sorry for everything that I am about to do!

I’m sorry that you probably won’t be able to find it in yourself to accept this apology...

I’m sorry that when I am standing over your lifeless body...

You’ll be sorry, too.[/i]