The Birthplace of Competition

[Chris Madison]

A few more seconds and that purple haired bitch would have never had the chance to remember who I am.

Such blatant disrespect from a bottom feeding cunt whom is lost now that her master is jobless. It's a harsh reality Robina but guess what, you're not the perfect megastar. You're not that dominant figure Sienna filled your head to be. You're just a run of the mill low carder.

And just incase all that dye has seeped into your brain and fucked with your memory, I left you a nice gift to remember me by. Look in the mirror just below that ten pound lump of shit you call a head. Yeah those nice purple bruises that match your stupid childish hair color are from me. Remember that if it weren't for the ref I would have choked the life out of you with no remorse!

As for challenging everyone in the Black Hand...Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! In your fucking dreams! Keep yourself occupied with Amy Zing and a title which doesn't even have a show to defend it on! Keep living in the past and you'll never move forward in your career.

But Robina's not the only one who seems to have an issue with the Black Hand. Kurt Styles and Biggs learned a valuable lesson this week. Don't get involved in Black Hand business. At Meltdown Kurt cut me off. This week Biggs interferes in our retribution. Everyone seems to be in a rush to take a number and stand in line for a beat down.

Just remember, no actions go unnoticed. Everything you people do has consequences. The Black Hand runs things in that locker room. Thanks for volunteering because examples need to be made so all the boys and girls in the back can fall in line like the sheep that they are!

Tuesday, September 10th, 2013
Orizontes of Lycabettus, Athens, Greece
12:00 PM

The city of Athens surrounds Mount Lycabettus like a man praying to a shrine of their gods. At its highest point the mountain stands nine hundred and eight feet above sea level. The Orizontes of Lycabettus restaurant sits atop one of the two peaks of the mountain which creates a breathtaking panoramic view of the historic city for tourists. Chris Madison sat at an outdoor table with his girlfriend Maria Mayhem. The deep blue skies matched the water of the ocean which can be seen in the distance. The stunning view made for one of the most romantic surroundings imaginable.

Chris sat at the table with one leg folded over the other. He gazed off into the distance as his girlfriend read over the restaurants menu. She wore a light blue sundress which made her crystal blue eyes pop underneath he large sun hat. A look which truly didn't match a young woman covered in tattoos. Chris sported a pair of white linen pants and blue button down and a pair of flip flops. His shirt was only buttoned up halfway, exposing his bare chest. Madison brushed his hand through his wavy hair and then gently touched a healing cut on the bridge of his nose.

"Bothering you", she asked while peering over the top of the menu in her hands.

Madison smirked as he removed his hand. "Nah, just a bit tender. Starting to scab up. Nothing that won't heal!"

Maria shifted her eyes back down at the menu and began to mumble to herself. "Hmmm...I don't know what to get."

"Get whatever you want. Don't worry about the price. I'm treating." Chris unfolded his legs and rested his elbows on the table while interlocking his fingers in front of his face.

Maria put the menu down on the table. She reached across and grabbed Chris's hands with hers, pulling them down to the table. "All of this has been more than I could have ever dreamt of. First Paris and now Athens? How did I get to be so lucky?"

"Lucky?" he shed a cheesy smile before finishing his thought. "I wonder the same thing. But seriously, did you think I wanted to tag around with Tommy and Niobe to all these places? Not much fun being the third wheel when those two get at it!"

Maria responded with an unexpected snort and laugh. Chris could barely control himself. "Don't start with me", she shouted while burying her face into her hands.

"I don't think I've ever heard you snort!" Chris watched as Maria's face turned an embarrassed red. "No need to be embarrassed, it's actually kind of cute."

Their playful conversation is cut short by a young waitress. She stands by patiently as Chris and Maria finish sharing a laugh amongst each other. "Are you two ready to place an order", she politely asked while putting the tip of her pen to a pad of paper.

Madison took the lead and was the first to order. "There's no way I'm coming to Greece and not having some lamb. I'll have the lamb hock." Chris lifted the menu and held it out towards the waitress to take.

"Excellent choice, I promise you won't be dissatisfied!" she bantered while accepting the menu from Chris. "And how about you miss", she questioned while turning her attention to Maria.

"Hmm...this is a tough decision. It all sounds so good." Maria tapped at her lips while trying to make a decision. She continued to look over the menu indecisively. "I'll have the Mediterranean risotto."

"I'll put that in right away for you." she took the other menu and turned away to place the order with the kitchen.

Now that all distractions were removed, Chris and Maria focused their conversation on each other. She removed her straw sun hat and slowly fanned herself. "What's on the agenda for the rest of the day?"

Chris had lifted a glass of water and began to drank it around mid sentence. He finished his gulps and placed the glass back down in front of him. "I'm actually waiting to hear from Nick. I paid for airfare and a hotel room so he can come out here. I think we're gonna hit up the Panatheniac Stadium, maybe do some cardio. I always feel lethargic during long trips like this."

"Oh." she pouted while the tone in her voice screamed disappointment. "I had no idea Nick was coming to Athens."

Madison shook his head. It was moments like this which reminded him of why he had left Kiyomi to come back to the states. "What is it? What's the problem now?"

Maria followed up by trying to play it off. "Nothing, no problem."

"You know what, I'm not in the mood for this. I bring you on this trip with me to Paris, to Athens with plenty more places to go; Sweden, Finland, Russia, Japan. And you're going to question me about flying my brother out here? Where do you find the gall to even question me? You need to get over it and think about someone else for a moment!" Chris paused, taking a moment realizing the scalding he was giving her may have been a bit overboard.

She reached across the table trying to hold Chris's hand. He pulled it away like a child throwing tantrum. "I swear, I didn't mean anything by it!"

"Nick is so far removed from competing he's like a lost puppy. You may not see it at the warehouse because you know him no other way. I see it. I see it every time he puts together a training regiment for me. Something's missing in his life, and it's been that way since he broke his neck almost ten years ago! His career was taken from him too soon." He took a moment to collect himself. Still refusing to return the embrace he turned his body away from the table, looking off beyond the city of Athens. "I guess I'm a bad guy for wanting my brother to have a memory like this."

"That's not fair. Don't make me out to sound like a monster. I just thought this trip was going to be for us." She removed her empty hand from the table and placed it down onto her lap.

The awkward silence created a tension that even the waitress could feel as she approached the table to see if anyone needed anything. The scene fades as Chris waves off the waitress. Maria and Chris continue their uneasy lunch date in complete silence.

Tuesday, September 10th, 2013
Panatheniac Stadium, Athens, Greece
4:00 PM

Nick Madison stood at the foot of a row of stairs in the Panatheniac Stadium. Nick hunched over with his hands pressed down atop his knees and his eyes fixed on the stairway in front of him. Nick fixes his posture and stands upright, stroking his grizzly beard with one hand and holding a stopwatch in the other. His eyes shifted down to the stop watch and then back up to the stairway. He side stepped into the first row of the track and field stadium and pressed down on the stopwatch as his brother, Chris Madison came charging down in a pair of black athletic shorts.

beep

Nick smiled at Chris before uttering the results. "You shaved off fifteen seconds on that run! Someone's starting to feel better."

Chris bent over and grabbed a towel which sat on the first row of seats. He brought it up to his head and wiped away the sweat that was building up in his brow. "Long trips like this always get to me. Halfway through I feel disgusted with myself. You know how much of a gym rat I am. Just being away makes me feel sloppy."

Nick took the sweat soaked towel from and threw it over his black hand t-shirt. "It's all in your head bro. You look to be in as good of shape as the last time I saw you."

Nick extended his arm out and handed off a bottle of water that had been stuck in the side pocket of his khaki cargo shorts. Chris graciously accepted the gesture and chugged the refreshing clear liquid. "How about you...everything good back home? The Warehouse running smoothly?"

The unsettling sound of silence raised red flags for Chris. He burned a hole through his baby brother with a look that could kill, expecting the absolute worst. "Good I guess", he mumbled under his breath.

Chris folded his arms across his chest as Nick sat down. Chris kept his eyes locked on his little brother who was avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Nick if something happened at the Warehouse you need to let me know. Fifty percent of that place is mine."

Nick nervously reassured Chris of no such issue. "I...I swear. The warehouse is fine. Running like a well oiled machine in fact."

Chris sat down beside his brother confused by his demeanor. He hasn't seen his brother like this since they were children. "Then what is it? I haven't seen you clam up like this since you put a baseball through the windshield of dads sixty nine chevelle."

Nick buried his head into his hands and leaned forward. Sensing the anxiety Chris placed his hand on his brothers back in an attempt to comfort him a little. Nicks muffled voice fought its way through his hands barely enough for Chris to understand. "I fucked up Chris. I fucked up big time."

After a long, hard deep breath Chris let out an exasperated sigh. "If you don't tell me there is no way of us resolving the issue." Chris felt as if he was talking to a wall. It was like pulling teeth just to get a simple explanation.

Nick sat up straight, forcing Chris's hand to slide off his back. He removed his hands from in front of his mouth and turned towards his brother. "I may have dug myself into a hole that I can't get out of."

Unamused by the cryptic message Chris responded by gawking at him and inquisitively asking, "How large of a hole are we talking"?

Nick embarrassingly whispered, "ten large".

Time stood still for a moment and Chris rose to his feet. He placed both hands on top of his head, interlocking his fingers. With his back to his brother he tried to verify what he had just heard. "Did you just say you were in the hole for ten thousand dollars?"

The dead air caused Chris to turn around and confront his brother. Nick looked on the verge of tears. Fighting back all of his emotions, Nick nodded his head. "Yeah..."

Chris shook his head at his sulking little brother. "How does that even happen? Everything was fine when I left. How do you get into ten thousand dollars worth of debt?"

Nick shamefully lowered his head like a scalded dog. It was moments before he offered up any form of an explanation. "Last Tuesday Manny and I went out to the strip club with a couple of guys after training. You know The Scene right?"

Chris impatiently taps his foot against the ground. "Yeah, and you know what kind of people run that joint right?"

"Well I do now..." It was a poor attempt at lighting up the mood. Chris continued looking on, expecting an explanation. "We were partying, having a good time, drinking an enjoying the girls. I was a bit tipsy and some guy approached me about making some easy cash. He was giving me some really good odds for some of week ones football games. I lost on all my bets, now I owe him ten grand and he wants it by this upcoming Tuesday."

Chris dropped his hands down to his side and balled up his fists. He bit down on his lower lip and used every ounce of strength in his body to refrain from smacking his brother. "Can you explain to me how laying bets with some random guy at a fucking strip club sounds like a rational idea?"

"I know I fucked up..."

Chris chuckled to himself releasing his fists and running his hands stressfully through his hair. "Fucked up? You think? What if you can't pay him, what's going to happen? Nick I hold you to a higher standard than this. When I'm out of town I expect you to be mature enough to make good decisions, especially if it could effect the warehouse. You can't be making mistakes like this. I'm truly dumbfounded. Let me guess, you don't have the money to pay up."

Nick was at a loss for words. Nick finally broke down as a tear shed and streaked down his cheek. "No..." Nick began to plead to Chris for help. "Chris, please...I'll work it off. I'll pay you back. I'll do anything man, I'm desperate. I need your help."

There was no way Chris wasn't going to help out Nick. He scratched at his cheek while thinking of a game plan. "Okay, I'm going to have to rework my flight schedule. Monday I'm flying in to Kamloops British Columbia. Tuesday I'm supposed to fly back out to Stockholm. I'm going to come back to Long Island on Tuesday and fly out to Stockholm from JFK on Wednesday morning. Just so you know, this is completely going to fuck me and piss off Maria."

Nick jumped up to his feet and wrapped his arms around Chris's saturated body with a hug. He lifts Chris off his feet with joy. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!"

Chris pried his brothers arms from around his body. He watched his brothers attitude skyrocket. He felt pleased with himself yet so disappointed in Nick. The picture cuts out as the two Madison brothers stand alone in the Panatheniac Stadium.

-------------------------------------

Chris was sitting down on the steps of Panatheniac Stadium. A towel was draped over his shoulder and his body glistened for his own perspiration. He held a handheld camera in front of him pointed at himself.

"It's moments like this that really ignites my burning desire to compete..."

"As a child my father would always tell me that as long as you showed dedication and put in hardwork, the end would justify the means."

"My father was also an alcoholic who lived vicariously through his children."

"Surprisingly his twisted, toxic mind actually made sense. If you could fight through the belching and pungent smell of alcohol seeping through his pores you'd realize the man knew what he was saying."

"In the world of professional sports people consider Madison Square Garden the Mecca. Being able to perform in New York City tends to be a measuring stick for most. In this day and age that may be true. But once upon a time this was the Mecca. Athens, Greece was the end all be all of athletic competition."

"Think of all the rich history in this city; The Greek Games, the start of the modern day Olympics, this stadium! If you don't get that itch just thinking about being able to perform in Athens you don't belong competing at any level! This is the Mecca! This is where it all began! No matter the sport, you can thank the Greeks for creating an audience."

"Kurt Styles, you should be counting your blessings and kissing President Jeff's feet for allowing you to showcase what little ability you have to the APW fans in Athens. Up to this point you have been far from impressive. I would even dare to say you've struggle to reach mediocrity! A few lucky wins doesn't make you anything to write home about! In all honesty, what have you done here?"

"In your debut you somehow outclassed Shione Ōshima. Bravo, your only win that truly meant anything. Since that debut match it has been one monotonous performance after another. Given another shot I would be willing to bet my career that the Crashing Wave would steam roll you! You were only able to beat Biggs thanks to the help of the Black Hand. And then you won a meaningless battle royal against a bunch of jobbers. A battle royal that you weren't even the most impressive guy in that ring! How'd it feel to have Mr. Dangerous show you up. A guy who's synonymous with an inability to do anything worth mentioning inside a ring. A true modern day Brooklyn Brawler."

"When Jennings approached us about you possibly joining amongst the ranks of the Black Hand we were all a bit apprehensive. We hadn't heard of you before and to be perfectly honest. To us you were just a name posted on the card. The only reason you even got a look was a favor to Jennings. It worked for you though didn't it? Because of us you hold a victory over one of APW's more beloved megastars, Biggs. You see for us it served a purpose as well. We wanted Biggs to realize he's not this otherworldly megastar he tries to portray himself out to be. In this industry there's nothing more humbling than being defeated by an unknown. There was no sincere consideration. For us you lacked an edge that we look for. You just happen to be in the right situation and reaped all the benefits of an easy win."

"There was one thing that did surprise us about you, to go along with your less than mediocre in ring ability is the IQ of a Down syndrome child! Did you really think it was a wise idea to come out and interrupt the five of us at Meltdown? How did that play out in your head? I'm curious because no sane man looks at five against one odds and thinks they walk out unscathed. I run that scenario through my head over and over again, no matter how it plays, it's always going to end with the Black Hand ruining your pathetic existence."

"If you thought the beatings I've given you the last few weeks were bad, wait until you see what I have in store for you on Thursday! When I'm through your face will look like hamburger meat and you'll be shitting chiclets for a week! I'm not in the mood to play around. The rest of the group will be on high alert to make sure Biggs doesn't come out and interfere with what I've already started. This week it's just going to be you and me. And when all is said and done you'll be begging for someone to just end the excruciating pain you'll be in. I can't promise to let go of my choke hold once its locked in. Look at Robina Hood, I shut her up when her lifeless body laid flat on the ring mat. With you I may just finish the job!"

"I almost feel bad fighting with you though. There's almost a moral struggle going on within. I never was a fan of the guys who picked on the handicapped. I just can't help it though. You brought this on yourself. I would have been perfectly comfortable with just telling you it wasn't going to work with the Black Hand and letting you move on to whatever shamble of a career you were going to try and build for yourself. But you had to come out and run your mouth. You had to try and make a statement. Well I hope you feel good about standing up to the big bad Black Hand, because you signed your own death certificate by doing so!"

"On September twelfth the short lived APW career of one Kurt 'The Chosen One' Styles comes to an abrupt ending. All those hopes and dreams will be short lived, leaving you to wonder what if? I hope you're capable of finding work elsewhere. I hope you can find that itch, that drive to compete. If you can't get inspired to make something of yourself by wrestling here then it might be time to find a new line of work. Move on, no one will think any less of you. Well lets be honest in a few weeks no one will even remember you!"

"For decades the name the black hand has been interchangeable with underground revolutionist groups. Groups that were looking to buck the system. Present day is no different. We are here to change the landscape of APW. Tommy started all of this when he waged war with the League of Extraordinary Wrestlers. Where are they now? Only soul remaining is Havok, and well he's a shell of what he once was. We are cleaning up the filth and now there's a few new targets..."

"Styles, Biggs, you guys are not unique. You are the same old boring cookie cutter crap that fed heads love to shove down the throats of the fans. They're sick of it, we're sick of it! It's time for a cleansing of this roster. The fans don't know how to speak up for themselves."

"I'll speak up for them. I'm the voice of those who won't be heard."

"I'm also your reckoning! Thursday night Kurt Styles dies!"

Madison rises to his feet and pulls the towel off his shoulder with his free hand. He wipes the sweat from his forehead before the camera cuts out to the sound of static and white snow before fading out to black.