Post by Level-Two on Nov 17, 2008 21:57:24 GMT -4
‘’One’s’’ Unbreakable
There I sat. On a small, fairly comfortable seat in the air plane. I didn’t mind the travel itself, but more the fact I had to travel in the first place. City to city. I have seen the world, nearly inch by inch. They say the north is different from the south, they say the west isn’t too found of the east, and vise versa. They say the prettiest girls come from California, but I’ve seen just as many in Brazil. They say Canadians have an accent, my ears never seem to agree. I’ve been to the United Kingdom, and their accents never seem to annoy the shit out of me. Yeah, I’ve seen it all.
I was on my way back from the APW’s overdrive event. Here, I was traveling all this way—and I couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied, as if my time was no better than wasted. The threw me Streets Wilson. Nothing more than a jobber in my eyes. If there was any part of the job I hated, it was this one. Traveling all these long hours, sleeping in hotels some in which, really weren’t worth the five star rating. And then? You had to go back again, hop on another plane, do it all over again. Leaving me nothing to eat but peanuts…
Ripping open the small package of peanuts, I shoveled them into my mouth. Devouring them, I cursed under my breath.
‘’I hate these fucking peanuts’’
I was soon off the plane, leaving me to stumble through the terminals on my own. No matter how many times I had walked through this place, I could never get a grasp on what was where. I saw a group of teenagers, coming back from a school trip. I didn’t bother asking them for directions, if they did know they would have probably given me the wrong directions just for spite, and I’d end up in a jail cell for assault and battery. Fuck, I didn’t need their help.
I eventually found my way, and soon into a cab. I knew exactly where I was headed. I had called Brian to a meeting tonight, at a restaurant down the street. I wasn’t exactly sure he was going to show up, because I’m almost sure he expected he was in trouble. But in a job like this, it was almost like the mafia. Once you get called in by your boss, you show up or you die. And while Brian didn’t have to worry about dying, his job was on the line, and I think he knew it.
In my head I prepared for his excuses. While I had originally calmed down by the situation, thinking of it riled me back up. I knew Brian didn’t stand much of a chance, for I already had my mind made up on what I was going to do. I was hard headed like that. It might have been blessed with it when I was born, but I did know it helped me out when it came to taking a chair shot. Never pretty.
I arrived. I was 10 minutes early, but even that wasn’t quick enough for Brian. There in-front of the taxi I was in, his limo. It wasn’t much of a surprise. The son of a bitch always had to be riding in style, suites, fancy clothing, the jewelry that would blind your eyes if you dared to look close enough, the man had it all. He was living like a movie star…
The rage built up again.
Didn’t he realize the lifestyle he was living was because of me? Did he fail to realize I made him? Here I was in an old smelly cab…
‘’30.46’’ The man blurted out with his ridiculous Middle Eastern accent interrupting my thoughts.
‘’Hey, fuck you’’ I shot back, before reaching into my pocket shoveling out whatever I could grab. Tossing it into the mans hand, I didn’t bother to wait for him to count it. I knew the amount needed to pay for the ride was there already, and I shoved open the door before heading towards the restaurant.
Once inside, I immediately marched over to Brian who was swindling with a few girls at a nearby table. Brian eventually looked up, before spotting me, with his hand he waved me over. Angered, burning almost, I used everything I could to hold a lid over my boiling emotions. The longer I thought about it the less I thought Brian knew exactly what was coming to him, or why I had called for the meeting.
‘’Hey, ladies. Meet my friend, my client, and wrestling superstar Level-One!’’ Brian shouted in excitement, as the girls looked at me flirtatiously. While they were more than beautiful, mingling them was far off my priority list.
‘’Hi ladies’’ I quickly blurted the introduction out, trying to get the greetings over with, I grabbed Brian by his shoulders. ‘’Sorry, but I need to borrow my friend here for a quick few minutes, it won’t take long. He’ll be back with your shortly’’ The girls caught off guard simply turned their backs to the both of us, and sauntered off.
Brian turned to me. ‘’Man, what’s wrong with you? You totally don’t know how to treat a lady…’’ Brian stated as he stared at the girls walking away, with a perversion beating in his eyes. Grabbing him by his shoulder, I through him into a chair nearby. He didn’t seem to like it too much. ‘’Who the fuck pissed in your low fiber cereal today?’’ Brian tested me, as I marched over to my chair taking a seat, leaning over the table. It was more than intimidating for Brian, no matter how much his black tinted eye glasses tried to hide it.
‘’Do you know why you’re here!?’’ I shouted, before Brian could even think of an answer, I continued on. ‘’You little shit. You went through my personal belongings didn’t you? And for what? For what fucking reason, Brian?’’
Brian through his hands up in defense. ‘’Whoa, wait let me explain…’’
I interjected, not granting Brian his chance. In my eyes, he had blown it already. ‘’I don’t want to hear your piss pour excuses. You invaded my privacy. You took my belongings. You took my trust? And you’ve thrown it all the away…’’
‘’I searched through it with reason…’’ Brian said sternly. As If he had shaken everything I through at him off in the matter of seconds. ‘’You’re my client, you were up to something…and it turns out you were up to something. I was just looking out for your well being man…’’
‘’Where the fuck is it?’’ I asked, not wanting to hear anymore. ‘'The plans...the plans you stole from me'' Brian took a deep sigh, before removing the glasses from his face. He looked into my eyes before uttering…
‘’I lost it, Lev’’ Brian calmly stated. ‘’I’m not going to beat around the bush, I had it and I was going to return it, but someone must’ve stolen it off my desk’’
‘’Your lying!’’ I shot back. Brian, shook his head firmly.
‘’You have my word, I lost it’’
The rage shot through me. Jacob. It was the key’s a man’s free dome, and now where was it? Who’s filthy hands was it in now? I vowed to provide Jacob with the freedom he deserved. I vowed to help Lee Takashi out of his alcohol addiction, and set them both back on a road to recovery. And what? The plans I spent months on, were gone? The rage, stronger then ever…I couldn’t control it…
‘’I’m sorry’’ Brian uttered softly. I looked at him with my eyes, he could have very well saw balls of flames. Springing to my feet; I released one of the most vicious slaps, I have ever let go. It knocked the spit right out of his mouth, the whole restaurant heard it, and was now staring at us.
‘’You’ve fucked up for the last time…your fired!’’ I shouted at Brian, who held his cheek, a mini camp like fire grew within him. It was still nothing compared to how I was feeling, and I didn’t care.
‘’Fuck you!’’ Brian shouted to me, as I walked towards the restaurant door. ‘’The world championships, the main-events, all the shit you’ve claimed you’ve done and taken credit for...I had apart in all that too! I made you. You were nothing with-out me, nobody!’’
I turned to Brian, before cracking a sly smile. ‘’You made me?’’
‘’And I’ll break you’’
I shook my head. Free of all my thoughts. The thoughts of picking up a nearby stake knife off the table, and piercing it through his skull. Free of my thought’s of physical harm which would have put my former manager in the hospital for weeks. It was a change. I had changed. I didn’t move…
‘’You should know this better than anyone Brian…’’ I said, before lowering my head towards the ground.
‘’I’m unbreakable’’
With that, I pushed through the doors and walked out of the restaurant. And while I walked forward, away, leaving my problems behind.
But Brian couldn’t help but follow.
The stalker of the night
It was cold, but it didn’t bother me even in the slightest bit. Even with the tips of my ears frozen, my fingers numb as hell, my legs tense as ever—I kept up a smooth and cool pace. The moon reflected gently onto the city below, a few people walked the streets, but it wasn’t much of a populated night. And that was odd, especially living in this city.
I was used to the turning heads. The people of the city, knew who I was. Most shocked by the fact someone as famous as I was, was walking past them, like someone human, like someone normal, someone like them. I guess walking past them was the closest thing I ever had in common with these people. My stance on things, often counter theirs. My visions, are distorted in the eyes of others. And my heart?
Well, it’s no warmer then tonight.
I walk with no goal, nor purpose. It’s the point of walking in the first place. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I wasn’t walking towards something, anything it all. No, just walking. This city was unpredictable. You never knew who you were going to bush shoulders with, or meet face to face. So when I turned the street corner, and saw a group of men scattering like a flock of Segals making away with a scrap of discarded bread, I chased them.
Upon coming past the alley, I glanced over. There laid a man beaten, thrown in a pile of his own trash. The only thing giving him shelter was the design of the buildings gutter, which collected the rains water. The man clutching nothing but a bottle of vodka, cursed in frustration. I approached him.
‘’Are you alright?’’ I asked. I neared closer, the man didn’t dare to look up at me. I reached over, before lifting him to his feet. The man grumbled a drunken sigh, as he nearly fell back wards onto the concrete in which he previously laid. ‘’What did those men take from you?’’
‘’Take?’’ The man grumbled. ‘’They took nothing, I have nothing anymore’’ The man stated, before looking up at me. My eyes dropped, my heart sunk in my chest, and I stumbled back helplessly.
‘’Lee?’’ I questioned in confusion. ‘’Lee, what the fuck? What are you doing here, are you alright?’’ Lee looked up at me, his head shaking like a mad mans. He was in the worst shape of his life.
‘’They took everything from me, Lev’’ Lee Takashi stated. It was as if it wasn’t even a shock that I had found him lying here. ‘’They burnt down my place. They took my money, my alcohol…they can have that, I don’t want it. Look what it’s done to me!’’
‘’Lee, I’m getting you help. Stay right here’’ I warned him, as I slowly back away in amazement. Lee let out a roar as he charged forward. Shocked, he flew right onto me as we tumbled to the concrete.
‘’Don’t leave, don’t leave me here!’’ Lee yelled out, as I scrambled out from underneath him, back paddling on my ass as fast as I could, my eyes wide open. This was the man, who really breathed live into my career. The man who really had a hand in molding me to the man and wrestler I was today, while some hate it. There was no denying him, or his contributions. And look what kind of shape he was in? It was my fault. Too busy wrestling, too busy thinking about my next promo…what the fuck have I done?
‘’Don’t leave me…the man will come back. You friend, he tried to kill me!’’ Lee Takashi pointed at me. Rolling up his sliced up sleeves, he pointed to his wounds. ‘’I did this? You think I did this? Please tell me I didn’t do this. I couldn’t. It was him!’’
‘’Who?’’
‘’…He took a knife, sliced my arms. Put it to my neck, but he couldn’t do it…’’
‘’Who the fuck are you talking about? What friend? Who did that to you?’’
‘’…He said he was coming back for his spot, and that I wasn’t going to take it from him. I was I going to take anything from him? Look at me, I’m a mess!’’ Lee cried out, as I stumbled to my feet with frustration.
‘’Lee, who the fuck was this person?’’ And then he looked at me. My words finally cutting through his drunken state. He didn’t need to say much, hell I didn’t hear him. I just saw his lips move…
‘’Brian’’
So another week comes to pass. I can’t say I am the least bit impressed. Streets Wilson? I shoved his own tongue down his throat, beat the living shit out of him—and when the ball didn’t come his way, he cried fowl and carried his ball home. What the hell is that shit? I didn’t come here to fight Nancy’s, gimmicks, or washed up has beens. And it’s only been three weeks, yet I have encountered all three. I have been getting more exercise tying my boots up, and walking down to the ring—more so the actually wrestling matches. And it’s about time I show you all lazy, useless, brain deaded fucks how it’s done.
Trevor Blackwell? Remember the wash-up I was talking about? Well, welcome to week three of my APW career. The guy that has been here since day one, yet has been knocked back onto his ass every time he nears a main-event which involves the APW world championship. What are you allergic to big championship gold, or anything worth a shit? Guys that have been here half as long as you, have moved on to win the big one. All the while you stand at the cross road with your thumb in your ass, worrying about the next train, the next obstacle that will be in your way. You can’t cross. Trevor…you’re a choke artist.
President Jeff relied on you, pushed you as far as he could behind the scenes, time and time and again. And each time? You came up short. It’s no wonder your own girlfriend left you. And what, who stood in your way? Kenny Lombardo? Are you kidding me? You lost to a guy who turned action packed wrestling, into some female soap opera. The marriages, the churches—the random deaths, the new borns, the cheating whore the dead whore, the sad president…the happy president. You lost to nothing more then an entertainment, merchandise selling, little shit of a champion. While I was over at the EwC, winning world titles; I looked over to the APW. And I simply shook my head.
You were the guy. The guy that could have ended all the drama. The guy that could have put wrestling first, and the side show circus shit on the back burner. The world was cheering for you, backing you one hundred percent of the way. And you lost. Out smarted, out maneuvered. I don’t care what the circumstances were. Yeah, Kenny was a coward. Streets Wilson smoked some laced shit. I don’t give a fuck. You lost, you failed, and you let everyone who stood behind you down.
I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t care about the circumstances. Time and time again you had your chance, and you failed. You weren’t good enough. And what makes you think your ANY better now? You were nothing more than a sick bump. A replay shot which Jeff used to sell his next pay-per-view, with a bigger name and a bigger face then yours. How does it feel to know that you were never the go to guy, but the guy placed there, because they knew that guy was going to be beat? I’ve been in your position, it’s just that. I got the job done, and upset the entire world. Maybe, instead of making mentions of my name, motivated simply because you’re intimidated by my presence, you should have researched me a little bit better.
But fuck, that’s above you isn’t it? All I am to you, and half of this ignorant roster—is some over hyped superstar from the rival company. Well, fair enough. It isn’t hard to see, half of the roster fails to acknowledge me simply because if I don’t exist in their mind—then they stand a chance. A chance at being the go to guy of the company. The world champion. The hall of famer. But with me standing in their way, with a clench fist their hopes and dreams smashed in between my fingers? They know it isn’t possible, nor an option.
And I think deep down in your skull, you know this. My skill, my talent, fuck my name sake, simply pushes your ego to the side as if it was nothing. For so long you have stood on by, waiting to make the solidifying jump into the main-event—and time and time you’ve been turned away. Even with Kenny gone, you were still pushed aside. A bigger name sprouted up, and suddenly Trevor was just that guy who could never break in, no matter how many keys he was given. You see this happing all over again, don’t you? Here I walk in, dominate, make a name and that leaves you being pushed down to the second string. With me here? I take away that chance, you’ve had way too long.
You know, it and I know it. What only I know, is that once given that chance I will capitalize on it. I will win the world APW championship. Apart of me knows what that opens up in me, but apart of me simply doesn’t care. Unlike you Trevor, I can’t stand being the second best. Unlike you Trevor, I am not satisfied with a loss no matter how much I left of me in the ring. It’s all bullshit. You can jump through glass tables, fall of scaffolds, and run through all the flaming rings of fire you want, but in the end of the day? That just makes you an attraction, a side show entertainer, a circus act. I’m more than a fucking gimmick, Trevor.
Trevor, your whole game is weak. There isn’t anything in your arsenal that has me doubting victory one bit. And while you yourself does have me doubting the condition I will walk out afterwards, it won’t mean a thing if you don’t pin me down long enough to receive a call from the bell. You can tear the flesh off my bones, you can dig a bit deeper and maybe even break a few. You can put every last emotion into that swing of your cane, but nothing—and I mean nothing, will break me down. While this may just be pre-mature talk, you will witness it in full swing come overdrive.
But maybe, I might just get lucky? Maybe I won’t get even the half decent Trevor Blackwell. Maybe, I will receive the one creaming his pants to the thought of Matt Metal at every passing moment? Maybe, Trevor Blackwell will just be too busy imagining what he’s going to do to Matt Metal, when he gets in-front of him, wraps his arms tightly around him, and gives him the hardest full throttle he’s felt in a life time?
…Really, this whole Matt Metal thing is really much more gay than I could put it in words.
If you had a brain in that over sized head of yours, you would realize that Matt Metal isn’t your problem next week. Fuck, don’t you realize that his match determines where you go from here on out? I beat you here, I take your spot. I dominate you here, I dance in your spot. Fuck, I kill you here—I take your spot, AND do APW a whole world of good.
Let’s face it Trevor Blackwell, your nothing anymore. You are a shell of your former self, and even your former shell had noticeable cracks within it. Trevor, you’re a broken man. You don’t have much motivation anymore. To put it straightly, your beginning not to give a shit anymore. So, why continue? Why continue to lose respect in eyes of your fans, and co-workers, while continuing on down this road with nothing more, but the rims of your tires to move forward with? I want to do you a favor, I want to be your dead end.
Trevor Blackwell, with the old comes in the new. I’m that guy. I don’t know how your going to take your loss, fuck I don’t really care. I just want you to realize that when this is all said and done, it doesn’t matter if you were good, at your best, or just flat out amazing. I’m here. I’m better. And if Matt Metal is more important that the APW world title, well then good on you. But if your out for the bigger picture? Something worth more than you, or matt metal, or your feud. Then it’s time to give your head a real good shake, pack your bags, and leave the APW for ever.
I’m not sorry for what I’m going to do to you. Your spot, it’s mine now. All you can do it watch helplessly, as I take it. See, you can hit me real hard. You can even hit that full throttle you talk about so frequently. Fuck, you can hit me—over and over, as hard as brutal as vicious as your body will allow you too with your signapore cane...it will prove to be no avail.
I’m unbreakable.
But you can try to break me.
There I sat. On a small, fairly comfortable seat in the air plane. I didn’t mind the travel itself, but more the fact I had to travel in the first place. City to city. I have seen the world, nearly inch by inch. They say the north is different from the south, they say the west isn’t too found of the east, and vise versa. They say the prettiest girls come from California, but I’ve seen just as many in Brazil. They say Canadians have an accent, my ears never seem to agree. I’ve been to the United Kingdom, and their accents never seem to annoy the shit out of me. Yeah, I’ve seen it all.
I was on my way back from the APW’s overdrive event. Here, I was traveling all this way—and I couldn’t help but feel dissatisfied, as if my time was no better than wasted. The threw me Streets Wilson. Nothing more than a jobber in my eyes. If there was any part of the job I hated, it was this one. Traveling all these long hours, sleeping in hotels some in which, really weren’t worth the five star rating. And then? You had to go back again, hop on another plane, do it all over again. Leaving me nothing to eat but peanuts…
Ripping open the small package of peanuts, I shoveled them into my mouth. Devouring them, I cursed under my breath.
‘’I hate these fucking peanuts’’
I was soon off the plane, leaving me to stumble through the terminals on my own. No matter how many times I had walked through this place, I could never get a grasp on what was where. I saw a group of teenagers, coming back from a school trip. I didn’t bother asking them for directions, if they did know they would have probably given me the wrong directions just for spite, and I’d end up in a jail cell for assault and battery. Fuck, I didn’t need their help.
I eventually found my way, and soon into a cab. I knew exactly where I was headed. I had called Brian to a meeting tonight, at a restaurant down the street. I wasn’t exactly sure he was going to show up, because I’m almost sure he expected he was in trouble. But in a job like this, it was almost like the mafia. Once you get called in by your boss, you show up or you die. And while Brian didn’t have to worry about dying, his job was on the line, and I think he knew it.
In my head I prepared for his excuses. While I had originally calmed down by the situation, thinking of it riled me back up. I knew Brian didn’t stand much of a chance, for I already had my mind made up on what I was going to do. I was hard headed like that. It might have been blessed with it when I was born, but I did know it helped me out when it came to taking a chair shot. Never pretty.
I arrived. I was 10 minutes early, but even that wasn’t quick enough for Brian. There in-front of the taxi I was in, his limo. It wasn’t much of a surprise. The son of a bitch always had to be riding in style, suites, fancy clothing, the jewelry that would blind your eyes if you dared to look close enough, the man had it all. He was living like a movie star…
The rage built up again.
Didn’t he realize the lifestyle he was living was because of me? Did he fail to realize I made him? Here I was in an old smelly cab…
‘’30.46’’ The man blurted out with his ridiculous Middle Eastern accent interrupting my thoughts.
‘’Hey, fuck you’’ I shot back, before reaching into my pocket shoveling out whatever I could grab. Tossing it into the mans hand, I didn’t bother to wait for him to count it. I knew the amount needed to pay for the ride was there already, and I shoved open the door before heading towards the restaurant.
Once inside, I immediately marched over to Brian who was swindling with a few girls at a nearby table. Brian eventually looked up, before spotting me, with his hand he waved me over. Angered, burning almost, I used everything I could to hold a lid over my boiling emotions. The longer I thought about it the less I thought Brian knew exactly what was coming to him, or why I had called for the meeting.
‘’Hey, ladies. Meet my friend, my client, and wrestling superstar Level-One!’’ Brian shouted in excitement, as the girls looked at me flirtatiously. While they were more than beautiful, mingling them was far off my priority list.
‘’Hi ladies’’ I quickly blurted the introduction out, trying to get the greetings over with, I grabbed Brian by his shoulders. ‘’Sorry, but I need to borrow my friend here for a quick few minutes, it won’t take long. He’ll be back with your shortly’’ The girls caught off guard simply turned their backs to the both of us, and sauntered off.
Brian turned to me. ‘’Man, what’s wrong with you? You totally don’t know how to treat a lady…’’ Brian stated as he stared at the girls walking away, with a perversion beating in his eyes. Grabbing him by his shoulder, I through him into a chair nearby. He didn’t seem to like it too much. ‘’Who the fuck pissed in your low fiber cereal today?’’ Brian tested me, as I marched over to my chair taking a seat, leaning over the table. It was more than intimidating for Brian, no matter how much his black tinted eye glasses tried to hide it.
‘’Do you know why you’re here!?’’ I shouted, before Brian could even think of an answer, I continued on. ‘’You little shit. You went through my personal belongings didn’t you? And for what? For what fucking reason, Brian?’’
Brian through his hands up in defense. ‘’Whoa, wait let me explain…’’
I interjected, not granting Brian his chance. In my eyes, he had blown it already. ‘’I don’t want to hear your piss pour excuses. You invaded my privacy. You took my belongings. You took my trust? And you’ve thrown it all the away…’’
‘’I searched through it with reason…’’ Brian said sternly. As If he had shaken everything I through at him off in the matter of seconds. ‘’You’re my client, you were up to something…and it turns out you were up to something. I was just looking out for your well being man…’’
‘’Where the fuck is it?’’ I asked, not wanting to hear anymore. ‘'The plans...the plans you stole from me'' Brian took a deep sigh, before removing the glasses from his face. He looked into my eyes before uttering…
‘’I lost it, Lev’’ Brian calmly stated. ‘’I’m not going to beat around the bush, I had it and I was going to return it, but someone must’ve stolen it off my desk’’
‘’Your lying!’’ I shot back. Brian, shook his head firmly.
‘’You have my word, I lost it’’
The rage shot through me. Jacob. It was the key’s a man’s free dome, and now where was it? Who’s filthy hands was it in now? I vowed to provide Jacob with the freedom he deserved. I vowed to help Lee Takashi out of his alcohol addiction, and set them both back on a road to recovery. And what? The plans I spent months on, were gone? The rage, stronger then ever…I couldn’t control it…
‘’I’m sorry’’ Brian uttered softly. I looked at him with my eyes, he could have very well saw balls of flames. Springing to my feet; I released one of the most vicious slaps, I have ever let go. It knocked the spit right out of his mouth, the whole restaurant heard it, and was now staring at us.
‘’You’ve fucked up for the last time…your fired!’’ I shouted at Brian, who held his cheek, a mini camp like fire grew within him. It was still nothing compared to how I was feeling, and I didn’t care.
‘’Fuck you!’’ Brian shouted to me, as I walked towards the restaurant door. ‘’The world championships, the main-events, all the shit you’ve claimed you’ve done and taken credit for...I had apart in all that too! I made you. You were nothing with-out me, nobody!’’
I turned to Brian, before cracking a sly smile. ‘’You made me?’’
‘’And I’ll break you’’
I shook my head. Free of all my thoughts. The thoughts of picking up a nearby stake knife off the table, and piercing it through his skull. Free of my thought’s of physical harm which would have put my former manager in the hospital for weeks. It was a change. I had changed. I didn’t move…
‘’You should know this better than anyone Brian…’’ I said, before lowering my head towards the ground.
‘’I’m unbreakable’’
With that, I pushed through the doors and walked out of the restaurant. And while I walked forward, away, leaving my problems behind.
But Brian couldn’t help but follow.
The stalker of the night
It was cold, but it didn’t bother me even in the slightest bit. Even with the tips of my ears frozen, my fingers numb as hell, my legs tense as ever—I kept up a smooth and cool pace. The moon reflected gently onto the city below, a few people walked the streets, but it wasn’t much of a populated night. And that was odd, especially living in this city.
I was used to the turning heads. The people of the city, knew who I was. Most shocked by the fact someone as famous as I was, was walking past them, like someone human, like someone normal, someone like them. I guess walking past them was the closest thing I ever had in common with these people. My stance on things, often counter theirs. My visions, are distorted in the eyes of others. And my heart?
Well, it’s no warmer then tonight.
I walk with no goal, nor purpose. It’s the point of walking in the first place. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, I wasn’t walking towards something, anything it all. No, just walking. This city was unpredictable. You never knew who you were going to bush shoulders with, or meet face to face. So when I turned the street corner, and saw a group of men scattering like a flock of Segals making away with a scrap of discarded bread, I chased them.
Upon coming past the alley, I glanced over. There laid a man beaten, thrown in a pile of his own trash. The only thing giving him shelter was the design of the buildings gutter, which collected the rains water. The man clutching nothing but a bottle of vodka, cursed in frustration. I approached him.
‘’Are you alright?’’ I asked. I neared closer, the man didn’t dare to look up at me. I reached over, before lifting him to his feet. The man grumbled a drunken sigh, as he nearly fell back wards onto the concrete in which he previously laid. ‘’What did those men take from you?’’
‘’Take?’’ The man grumbled. ‘’They took nothing, I have nothing anymore’’ The man stated, before looking up at me. My eyes dropped, my heart sunk in my chest, and I stumbled back helplessly.
‘’Lee?’’ I questioned in confusion. ‘’Lee, what the fuck? What are you doing here, are you alright?’’ Lee looked up at me, his head shaking like a mad mans. He was in the worst shape of his life.
‘’They took everything from me, Lev’’ Lee Takashi stated. It was as if it wasn’t even a shock that I had found him lying here. ‘’They burnt down my place. They took my money, my alcohol…they can have that, I don’t want it. Look what it’s done to me!’’
‘’Lee, I’m getting you help. Stay right here’’ I warned him, as I slowly back away in amazement. Lee let out a roar as he charged forward. Shocked, he flew right onto me as we tumbled to the concrete.
‘’Don’t leave, don’t leave me here!’’ Lee yelled out, as I scrambled out from underneath him, back paddling on my ass as fast as I could, my eyes wide open. This was the man, who really breathed live into my career. The man who really had a hand in molding me to the man and wrestler I was today, while some hate it. There was no denying him, or his contributions. And look what kind of shape he was in? It was my fault. Too busy wrestling, too busy thinking about my next promo…what the fuck have I done?
‘’Don’t leave me…the man will come back. You friend, he tried to kill me!’’ Lee Takashi pointed at me. Rolling up his sliced up sleeves, he pointed to his wounds. ‘’I did this? You think I did this? Please tell me I didn’t do this. I couldn’t. It was him!’’
‘’Who?’’
‘’…He took a knife, sliced my arms. Put it to my neck, but he couldn’t do it…’’
‘’Who the fuck are you talking about? What friend? Who did that to you?’’
‘’…He said he was coming back for his spot, and that I wasn’t going to take it from him. I was I going to take anything from him? Look at me, I’m a mess!’’ Lee cried out, as I stumbled to my feet with frustration.
‘’Lee, who the fuck was this person?’’ And then he looked at me. My words finally cutting through his drunken state. He didn’t need to say much, hell I didn’t hear him. I just saw his lips move…
‘’Brian’’
So another week comes to pass. I can’t say I am the least bit impressed. Streets Wilson? I shoved his own tongue down his throat, beat the living shit out of him—and when the ball didn’t come his way, he cried fowl and carried his ball home. What the hell is that shit? I didn’t come here to fight Nancy’s, gimmicks, or washed up has beens. And it’s only been three weeks, yet I have encountered all three. I have been getting more exercise tying my boots up, and walking down to the ring—more so the actually wrestling matches. And it’s about time I show you all lazy, useless, brain deaded fucks how it’s done.
Trevor Blackwell? Remember the wash-up I was talking about? Well, welcome to week three of my APW career. The guy that has been here since day one, yet has been knocked back onto his ass every time he nears a main-event which involves the APW world championship. What are you allergic to big championship gold, or anything worth a shit? Guys that have been here half as long as you, have moved on to win the big one. All the while you stand at the cross road with your thumb in your ass, worrying about the next train, the next obstacle that will be in your way. You can’t cross. Trevor…you’re a choke artist.
President Jeff relied on you, pushed you as far as he could behind the scenes, time and time and again. And each time? You came up short. It’s no wonder your own girlfriend left you. And what, who stood in your way? Kenny Lombardo? Are you kidding me? You lost to a guy who turned action packed wrestling, into some female soap opera. The marriages, the churches—the random deaths, the new borns, the cheating whore the dead whore, the sad president…the happy president. You lost to nothing more then an entertainment, merchandise selling, little shit of a champion. While I was over at the EwC, winning world titles; I looked over to the APW. And I simply shook my head.
You were the guy. The guy that could have ended all the drama. The guy that could have put wrestling first, and the side show circus shit on the back burner. The world was cheering for you, backing you one hundred percent of the way. And you lost. Out smarted, out maneuvered. I don’t care what the circumstances were. Yeah, Kenny was a coward. Streets Wilson smoked some laced shit. I don’t give a fuck. You lost, you failed, and you let everyone who stood behind you down.
I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t care about the circumstances. Time and time again you had your chance, and you failed. You weren’t good enough. And what makes you think your ANY better now? You were nothing more than a sick bump. A replay shot which Jeff used to sell his next pay-per-view, with a bigger name and a bigger face then yours. How does it feel to know that you were never the go to guy, but the guy placed there, because they knew that guy was going to be beat? I’ve been in your position, it’s just that. I got the job done, and upset the entire world. Maybe, instead of making mentions of my name, motivated simply because you’re intimidated by my presence, you should have researched me a little bit better.
But fuck, that’s above you isn’t it? All I am to you, and half of this ignorant roster—is some over hyped superstar from the rival company. Well, fair enough. It isn’t hard to see, half of the roster fails to acknowledge me simply because if I don’t exist in their mind—then they stand a chance. A chance at being the go to guy of the company. The world champion. The hall of famer. But with me standing in their way, with a clench fist their hopes and dreams smashed in between my fingers? They know it isn’t possible, nor an option.
And I think deep down in your skull, you know this. My skill, my talent, fuck my name sake, simply pushes your ego to the side as if it was nothing. For so long you have stood on by, waiting to make the solidifying jump into the main-event—and time and time you’ve been turned away. Even with Kenny gone, you were still pushed aside. A bigger name sprouted up, and suddenly Trevor was just that guy who could never break in, no matter how many keys he was given. You see this happing all over again, don’t you? Here I walk in, dominate, make a name and that leaves you being pushed down to the second string. With me here? I take away that chance, you’ve had way too long.
You know, it and I know it. What only I know, is that once given that chance I will capitalize on it. I will win the world APW championship. Apart of me knows what that opens up in me, but apart of me simply doesn’t care. Unlike you Trevor, I can’t stand being the second best. Unlike you Trevor, I am not satisfied with a loss no matter how much I left of me in the ring. It’s all bullshit. You can jump through glass tables, fall of scaffolds, and run through all the flaming rings of fire you want, but in the end of the day? That just makes you an attraction, a side show entertainer, a circus act. I’m more than a fucking gimmick, Trevor.
Trevor, your whole game is weak. There isn’t anything in your arsenal that has me doubting victory one bit. And while you yourself does have me doubting the condition I will walk out afterwards, it won’t mean a thing if you don’t pin me down long enough to receive a call from the bell. You can tear the flesh off my bones, you can dig a bit deeper and maybe even break a few. You can put every last emotion into that swing of your cane, but nothing—and I mean nothing, will break me down. While this may just be pre-mature talk, you will witness it in full swing come overdrive.
But maybe, I might just get lucky? Maybe I won’t get even the half decent Trevor Blackwell. Maybe, I will receive the one creaming his pants to the thought of Matt Metal at every passing moment? Maybe, Trevor Blackwell will just be too busy imagining what he’s going to do to Matt Metal, when he gets in-front of him, wraps his arms tightly around him, and gives him the hardest full throttle he’s felt in a life time?
…Really, this whole Matt Metal thing is really much more gay than I could put it in words.
If you had a brain in that over sized head of yours, you would realize that Matt Metal isn’t your problem next week. Fuck, don’t you realize that his match determines where you go from here on out? I beat you here, I take your spot. I dominate you here, I dance in your spot. Fuck, I kill you here—I take your spot, AND do APW a whole world of good.
Let’s face it Trevor Blackwell, your nothing anymore. You are a shell of your former self, and even your former shell had noticeable cracks within it. Trevor, you’re a broken man. You don’t have much motivation anymore. To put it straightly, your beginning not to give a shit anymore. So, why continue? Why continue to lose respect in eyes of your fans, and co-workers, while continuing on down this road with nothing more, but the rims of your tires to move forward with? I want to do you a favor, I want to be your dead end.
Trevor Blackwell, with the old comes in the new. I’m that guy. I don’t know how your going to take your loss, fuck I don’t really care. I just want you to realize that when this is all said and done, it doesn’t matter if you were good, at your best, or just flat out amazing. I’m here. I’m better. And if Matt Metal is more important that the APW world title, well then good on you. But if your out for the bigger picture? Something worth more than you, or matt metal, or your feud. Then it’s time to give your head a real good shake, pack your bags, and leave the APW for ever.
I’m not sorry for what I’m going to do to you. Your spot, it’s mine now. All you can do it watch helplessly, as I take it. See, you can hit me real hard. You can even hit that full throttle you talk about so frequently. Fuck, you can hit me—over and over, as hard as brutal as vicious as your body will allow you too with your signapore cane...it will prove to be no avail.
I’m unbreakable.
But you can try to break me.
