Always in control, even when things don't go my wa

[Your JESUS]

My knuckles numb, and my body soaked in perspiration. The thud of my bare fists pounding on a hundred pound punching bag echo throughout the thick musty air, accompanied by the sound of my breath shooting from my mouth with each blow. From an outside perspective it would seem I a releasing steam or venting frustration. The reality of the situation is that I'm simply finishing a nasty cardio routine. I haven't stepped in a ring in almost a month. The last time I missed time in this sport that I stake claim over as it's beloved savior was due to injury. This brief occasion is nothing more then a choice i made. A decision brought to the surface by simple disrespect for me, my accomplishments, and the level of greatness I bring about by stepping onto a brand. I am like a ruler of supremacy. I need you to think of it like this, I began my rule on Overdrive, spread it to Meltdown like a conquering King. Now here I stand like Xerxes The Great starring down Athens for my next invasion. Imagine my frustration when I am forced to return home, sent back to my original origin. This large mass of arrogance that consumes me, powered by my ego fueled mind is set to expand my rule, further my accolades. Instead I'm stifled, and suffocated into this bottle neck of what APW feels is their flagship show, Overdrive. Fuck that!!!

As the thought of that over whelming frustration covers my thought process the speed and intensity of my punches begins to build. Sweat flies off my body as I furiously punch away. Suddenly I can hear the voice of friend, yet I pretend as if I didn't here him calling my name, hoping he will just go away. Needless to say, Sabur is a pest and just stands there trying to get my attention. I blast the bag with a right hook then grab it with my left to calm it's back and forth swing. My shoulders raise as I try to control my breathing. I tilt my head to the right slightly signaling toward my body guard that I'm listening.

Sabur: What's the plan Mike? You have been on a hold out, then when the legal team drops the ball we show up to Overdrive. You meet with Rebel, we are all left with no information, now here I am with an itinerary for Meltdown in my inbox. What's up?

I usually appreciate this man's opinion, but as of late I am really sensitive to a lack of respect, or any questioning of my thought process. In turn Sabur doesn't like my response to his question.

Lively: Bro...was you paycheck deposited in your account. Have I ever let you down, or not been in control?

Sabur's face turns to a scowl as the temperament of the room changes.

Sabur: You know what as a matter of fact I am paid well and on time every week. Also I know you always have things under control...FOR YOU! As for letting me down? There was a time when your ego, your plots and plans drove a wedge between the two of us. So since that time I tend to walk carefully on the Ice that surrounds you, never knowing when it can crack!!!

As he boasts out his feelings that I have ignited with my brash arrogance, the big man has taken a few steps closer to me. I decided to turn around a shoot a glare into the eyes of this muscle bound beast. we are both prideful men, both warriors of the world we call our profession. In turn puffing up our chests at one another doesn't help calm the situation, it's more like tossing a can of gas on the fire.

there is history between this former world champion and myself. We were trained at the same gym, both broke into the business together, and both helped make APW a house hold name. His days of terrorizing others inside a ring have been limited thanks to no one other then me, and this so called wedge that he now has brought out of the closet. I wish to forget about those days. My head wasn't right, I made a lot of poor choices. Him tossing that in my faces really gets me worked up.

Lively: So we are going there? REALLY? I thought we moved past that?

Sabur: I'm not sure Mike, just wondering if your head is screwed on straight. I have your back, I'm ready to ride no matter where it's at. I just want to make sure that while I'm stepping in front of you to go to war, that I don't get a knife plunged in my back by you, again!!!

A fire lights in my eyes and my nostrils flare as I look down toward the ground. My first instinct is to grab this big son of a bitch by his throat, and head but his nose until we are both covered in blood. Our differences were patched up, promises were made to mend the fences, Yet here I am with this big bastard trudging up the past. I choose to take a deep breath because no matter how angry I may be, no matter how fragile my ego is, Sabur is my friend.

Lively: Alright, listen I know things have been crazy for the past month. I know my mood and actions as of late could lead you to believe that I might not be trustworthy toward our friendship. I know that I am fueled by my greed for greatness. Listen big man, it's not coming at your expense EVER again!

Sabur stares at me as I spill my guts. His temper seems to ease, and you can almost feel the tension in the room lift like a cloud. He still has the curious look about him so I try to address it.

Lively: Look big man, I kind of promised you would roll with me to Meltdown...for a tag match!

I expected the swollen power house to perk back up with roid rage but instead he gets a dastardly look on his face. He claps his big meat hooks together almost licking his chops.

Sabur: Nice...last time felt so right!

A sigh of relief exits my body. I wasn't quite sure how he would take the news, but from the looks of things he seems pumped to tear a mother fuckers head off.

Lively: It's kind of a punishment thing from what I can tell. My stand off with APW has a lot of people turning their nose up at the JESUS lately. I'm glad I can count on you big man. So we head to Meltdown to bring the house that I built down one more time, show these sons of bitches why I am the Savior of APW.

Sabur: Hell yeah then we ride into Christmas Chaos and show the world...

Lively: Uhhh...yeah I'm not booked for the PPV.

Sabur's face suddenly shows nothing but complete shock.

Lively: Listen I'm not sweating it, they felt like losing ratings, having less PPV buys then who am I to stand in their way. It's all good, I have a few ideas of my own. APW thinks they can tell me how things go down...no sir.

My man beast of a friend seems lost in a daze. My arrogance thinks he is still shell shocked from the heart ripping tragedy that is my absence from Christmas Chaos. He quickly assures me that isn't what weighs heavy on his mind at the moment.

Sabur: So who are we putting in their place on Meltdown?

Puzzled because I really hadn't put much thought into it I didn't have an answer for the big man. All I could do is shrug my shoulders. My response did not please this steroid infested creature I call a friend.

Sabur: Listen man...I need to know who I'm fighting, I mean...WE. Who we are fighting.

Lively: Relax bro, nothing to be worried about.

Sabur: Oh I'm not worried in the slightest. I'm simply concerned with the promo.

My eye brow raises as my personal body guard reminds me of the contractual commitment that I must put forth before every match. Face time with the public, a way to spark interest in the match up so the world will feel emotionally attached and forced to tune in. When people tune in it produces ratings, ratings brings forth sponsors, sponsors have money....so and so forth. Can you believe there are people out there that think prostitution is dead, it comes in many forms and is alive and well, trust me!

Lively: Look, honestly Sabur a promo hasn't even crossed my mind. I haven't even given a moment to think about the two men we face on Monday because quite frankly what does it matter. Let me ask you this? Is there another man in APW that has done what I have done?

Sabur: Well Kash became a Grand Sl...

I cut Sabur off with a clearing of my throat.

Lively: Let me say this, Kash is simply a modern day Christopher Columbus.

Puzzled the big monster tilts his head confused like a puppet on Sesame Street.

Lively: Basically I Michael Lively discovered the Americas, settled in here and staked my claim...FIRST!!! Years later here comes Christopher Columbus Kash acting like it is he who found this land...catch my drift?

Still lost Sabur shakes his head back and forth.

Lively: Seriously!!! Damn man I was Grand Slam first! When there was only one fucking show, only one set of titles. I damn near invented Grand Slam, then he comes in here adding his name to my accolade of greatness. Was he North American champion?

Sabur: No!

Lively: That's right, that was ME! Where was I?

Again Sabur shrugs his shoulders because I have gone way off topic. Still a little fumed I rant a bit more because nothing sparks my memory as to the main topic.

Lively: It wouldn't surprise me if Kash was the main reason I was stuck on Overdrive. We had a little bit of a run in or two some time ago. That's probably it...that toothless chicken shit probably begged for me to stay as far away from Asylum as possible. Son of a bitch!!!

Sabur smiles because he has been witness to this all too many times. I stray from the topic, rant and rave then work myself into a shoot over something most likely fictional and fabricated by my sensitive ego. As my blood boils briefly I remember my original thought before Sabur brought up the name of that whom I now secretly hold a grudge, even though there could be no reason for said animosity.

Lively: Anyways big man...there isn't anyone as accomplished as me, no one as talented as me. I damn sure know there isn't a blood thirsty, animalistic freak of nature booked on this roster that thrives on the smell of torn flesh like you. There isn't another man in APW who feeds their adrenalin with the sounds of agony leaving their opponents lungs except you. So what is there to sweat, who should we even bother wasting my valuable thoughts on.

Sabur kind of nods in approval of my egotistical address.

Lively: Seriously who are they going to pair is up against...two pajama wearing comic crazed idiots, a broke dick senator and a failed soldier, or better yet a Michael Lively rip off and a Deranged Cuban here illegally. Nah they would be better suited to drag in two fucking hicks from the sticks fresh from a Broke Back Mountain movie screening to try and compete with the Savior and his mother fucking disciple!!!

Sabur: I'm no disciple!

Lively: Sorry I thought there was a camera around I think I went into promo mode for a second. You get my point though right?

Sabur nods and pulls out his phone. the big man checks the line up for Meltdown curious as to whom we are set to tangle. i prefer the mystery approach, but I guess rood rage over here hates surprises. As his eyes skim the card he is overwhelmed with laughter.

Lively: What?

Still the big man chuckles.

Lively: God damn it man, what it is?

The big guy regains his composure and shows me his phone.

Lively: Well I'll be Hog tied...the Sons of the South...Yee-haw!!! For fucks sakes, you boycott work for one month and the entire places falls in the shitter while you're gone. Well big man you ready for a couple rough and tumble cow fuckers?

Sabur: Hell ya...and don't worry about a promo, let me handle this.

Wow, I remember some of Sabur's promo work, this should be interesting. A guy that was in need of a wrestling gimmick, who bought a midget online, named him Richard, so the world could call him Sabur's little dick is in charge of my next promo...this should really be fun!!!