Bloody Sunday

[J-Hop]

BLOODY SUNDAY
“You’re A Bloke!”

Arriving in Manchester, England, it was somewhat of a dreary day as the bus pulled up to the entrance of the hotel where I would be resting. Looking outside the window, all the ‘hooplah’, people crowded with signs, looking like a protest. Lord knows this was the last thing I needed to be introduced to. But it wasn’t for me, it was for … Callahan, Michael Callahan. For what, I don’t know. However, it brought a smile to my face.

“ARREST CALLAHAN!!”

“ARREST CALLAHAN!!”

“ARREST CALLAHAN!!”

“ARREST CALLAHAN!!”

I cautiously got off the bus as I looked at everyone, including the guards at the door. I grabbed my backpack as I walked towards the hotel’s entrance door. I looked at the guard as he looked back at me.

“Hey, you mind giving me a little info on what the hell is going on here?” I said, asking the guard as I looked back over at the very boisterous crowd.

He didn’t respond right away, almost a minute passed before he decided to respond.

“Protesting because of word that Michael Callahan is in the ‘neighborhood’.”

“Hmm.” I said, with a smile hidden behind my ‘sort-of-serious facial expression.

Seems like I wasn’t the only one hating that scumbag piece of shit.

“He’s suppose to be at this hotel?” I asked the guard with wondering eyes.

“Not sure, guess they just chose this location. He might go elsewhere.” He replied.

Damn, if he were to come, I could get my fight on, brawling with him on this cold-ass concrete. Oh well…

“Thanks man, appreciate your answers.” I said before I headed on into the hotel.

Walking in, the hotel had that ‘England’ feel to it. The music played soft in the background, barely noticeable but it could be heard. Walking up to the kiosk desk, the lady spotted me with a smile.

“Hello Sir and welcome to our delightful hotel. Are you staying for multiple nights?” She asked, maintaining her smile.

“Just till’ Monday. Tonight and Sunday night.” I replied as that would be enough time to get ample amount of rest before heading out Monday morning.

“Okay, that will be ninety-nine bucks, with breakfast service included.” She said, registering me with her fast typing into the system.

As I gave her a hundred dollar bill, she put it through, giving me back a dollar. She then reached behind grabbing a key with the tag number on it.

“Here’s your key. Room number 110. Enjoy your stay!”

“Thanks!” I said, nodding before walking off.

Traveling up the steps, the long hallways ahead, I eyed each of the room numbers as 110 was the fourth door from the end of the hall. Taking the key, I twisted as it unlocked and I entered.

It smelled like roses.

You don’t get that fragrance too much in the ‘States’ or at least in a hotel in the States’.

“Ahh …Rest!” I said to myself as I closed the door after entering.

I threw my backpack down as I got a running start before leaping high into the air and ‘flopping’ right down on the bed. The soft sheets and comfort spread, it was super-clean in here. Not one spec of dirt or anything.

These people cared about other people. They liked things to be perfect and be rewarded via reviews and magazine mentions. They certainly had it going.

I sat up on the bed as I lowered my head, shaking it slightly as the thoughts raced through my head. Sunday night, how it was going to be, a true battle of good versus evil. Would I have what it takes to get the job done in ‘clutch’ positions in the match? Would I survive this man’s mayhem?

Shit… It was too much to just bottle up and hold till show time.


“Callahan, I’m so glad you took your wanna-be popular ass and replied. It was about time. I guess it was one of those “wait and react” kinds of deals, huh? You don’t have to ‘educate’ me with a word like ‘Perspective’. Your perspective is different from mines. What you say is different from what you do. You want everyone to view you as a good person when you’re red as the devil himself. You are Satan. There is nothing left to be said. You’re a ‘fucked up’ person, straight and simple. How do you even sound, Michael?”

“YOU ALMOST FUCKING KILLED SOMEONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111111111111”

“What you did, that’s not retalitation, it’s goddamn murder. Your pitiful excuses just makes this fight that much sweeter for when I EMBARRASS you. Verbal abuse, that’s what you ‘people’ do. You verbally attack others back and forth. What Anthony did, it was in his right to do such, for what you say and do, it was definitely deserved. Christmas Chaos, you may have paused him from action, but you never beat him. Anthony refuses to ‘give up’, even if it meant cutting himself short. But you know what, it’s past. That was 2012. It’s a clean slate here in 2013.”

“The fact is, I know what’s right from wrong. Twisting words and trying to make it seem like us “viewers” are just jumping sides because of your sake, it isn’t. It took you two finishers to try and make Anthony tap. While I appreciated the technical prowess of that match back and forth, you didn’t win in my eyes. But whatever, you politicians think you are so ‘slick’ and can get away with shit. Not this time, Mikey. Not this time.”

“I give you props, your in-ring ability and technique is top-notch. The way you got some of your accolades, I agree and disagree with. Again, that whole “perspective” shit. You don’t see what I see and I will never see what you see. To compare me and Anthony to some damn soccer team here in England is kinda bogus. Get your head out of your ass and UNDERSTAND. Sure Anthony took me under his wing. What the hell is wrong with that? We were both young and starving. Sure he was already in the ranks, working up at the time I came in. We both wanted great things in this company. We rode no one’s coat tails. We helped each other, we had each other’s back. We’re brothers . We fight for one another. It’s a family thing but I’m sure someone like you Callahan didn’t have such luck. You had a family and you probably broke them apart with the bullshit you tend to let come out of your mouth. No one wants to be around you, especially a dirty politician at that.”

“Looking outside this window, seeing everyone on the streets in front of the hotel and down the block with signs in the air with your name on it, wanting you to be captured, it explains that you aren’t wanted around here, not anywhere. You take things and you twist them around unfairly. Never on twitter did I say I was going to ‘squash’ you like a bug. You seek to find something that is not there.”

“Maybe you’ll understand me in a different light. Okay, so you’re Chelsea Football Club, good for you that you are wealthy, you’re well-developed, well pushed to a degree. You’re well designed to deliver out on the field. Chelsea gets this bull crap opponent. Fairly new, nowhere near as polished as your club. On paper, it sees this being no match. Bad players, bad goalie. You look to run circles around this club for ninety minutes, non-stop.”

“Your perception of that club is that is a goddamn ‘clunker’. It doesn’t deserve to share apart of your field for what it isn’t fit. You believed so much into that paper that it made you look past the point. Sure, the club isn’t as wealthy as you, it’s not as well-developed as yours. It’s inconsistent in play, it leaves a lot to be desired. Sure, but you skipped over what seems to be the hidden attributes in scouting. Every single player on that squad is good at a certain skill. They have certain way of playing, each being unique in their own way, yet when all put together, it looks like a ‘rest period’ for you because you didn’t pay attention to the underlying skin. You pretty much set yourself up.”

“What happens when Chelsea finds themselves in a ‘dogfight’? Struggling to get points in two forty-five minute quarters? What happens when Chelsea is down a goal and their stamina is just a bit near empty with about five minutes left to go? What happens when Callahan finds himself in a situation where he found out he bit off more than he could chew?”

“Nowhere. A “Dead End”, that’s where he’ll find himself. Trying to save himself for a burst to the finish line. Yeah Callahan, I didn’t have the most spectacular 2012. I didn’t win when I was suppose to win. I let up off the gas pedal. I stopped being consistent. I fell back a dozen steps. You name it, I just wasn’t what I was supposed to be. I run my own race. Anthony Bailey, it was a good year for him. He deserve every bit of it. It’s not about comparing and contrasting us. He did his work, I did mines. He got an A, I got a D, who the fuck cares about what who done this or that? That’s for critics to talk about and I could care less about the critics who look to bring up negative bull crap.”

As I posted to you on Twitter, its 2013, the bullshit ends. You can say what you want, kick balls into a net, slam dunk it for all I care. The analogies, it means nothing. The comparisons, it means nothing. What’s written on the paper, it means nothing! Everyone has a weakness Callahan, you of all people should know that. You may be an upper-echelon player standing beside me in this fight but upper-echelon can get their asses kicked on any given Sunday too. Have you not watched American Football? Google up Arizona Cardinals against the New England Patriots. You’ll understand that any day can be a day of misfortune. Because you’re dominant, considered a legendary team, all-star players, it doesn’t make you invincible. It only makes you more acceptable to being put in place … in a bad way. You shouldn’t worry about Phil Atken. You shouldn’t even keep on bringing up Anthony Bailey. You’ve faced him on numerous occasions. You’re facing me for the first time. All you have is tapes of previous battles. That tag match, that’s nothing. It’s me and you…and your robot. Bring your threats, promises can be broken. That’s another thing people of your type fail on delivering, that’s promises. I’m not worried of you or what you intend to do. Just know that the ‘Asylum Child’ Jair Hopkins is going to deliver a ‘miraculous performance’. Take it, eat it, shove it, devour it however you want to.”

“Like John Boehner said to Harry Reid …Go Fuck Yourself!”

…

….

And that was a wrap!