Wake n' Bake [Chapter 10]

[Tommy Knox]

- Wake n’ Bake, Chapter X -

Wednesday 07:03 AM [August 24th, 2011]
Long Beach, California

Rays of light break through a tattered curtain overhanging the window as the sun awakens from its slumber the night before. Empty beer cans are scattered throughout the apartment in a cluttered filth. An ashtray rests on the end table filled with about ten or so roaches ranging in all different sizes. The room is a wreck. From the looks of things, last night was one hell of a night.

The television hanging on the wall continues to play as the room sits in silence, mute. The picture quality is fuzzy but it’s obvious what’s playing over and over as the video repeats itself. These were the good old days, back when they were on top of the world. They were three different men with one idea in mind. This was a bond that should have never been broken. Now it’s time to pick up the pieces.

2007 was the year in which the three made an alliance with one another, a pact. From that moment forward, no one could stand in their way. Influential Minds controlled the TcW scene as they dominated the competition and captured every singles title the company had to offer. They were a force to be reckoned with. So were the bad habits.

The kitchen was no paradise either. A few empty beer cans here, a blunt wrap or two there, is wasn’t pretty. An empty bottle of Jim Beam stands tall beside the sink full of dirty cups. The trash can across the room needs to be emptied as garbage floods the floor from overfill. I was under the impression that California was a much cleaner, neater place to live. That was until trouble came to town.

A door is heard creaking open from down the hall as Knoxville exits in a pair of basketball shorts. His eyes are blood shot and barely open as he drags himself into the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator. Without hesitation he opens the door and quickly pulls out a Gatorade. Popping the top, he wastes no time as he rests his lips on the opening pouring the cold drink down his throat. A few moments pass as he lowers the bottle and looks across the room and notices the television.

“Shit. This is still on? I need to quit doin’ this to myself.” He says as he walks across the room towards the couch.

Grabbing the remote he lies across the couch and hangs his legs off the end. He reaches into the ashtray resting on the end table and selects a nice sized roach, about two inches long. Placing it between his lips he grabs the lighter from the coffee table and flicks his thumb. Instantly the flame ignites as he takes a slow drag lighting the end and inhaling a bit of goodness at the same time.

Waiting a few moments before exhaling, he rewinds the video to a clip of the original formation of Influential Minds. Kash had just announced the second member to the group along himself. Knoxville doesn’t blink as the clip plays, he just continues to take deep slow drags from the marijuana cigarette expanding his lungs and enlightening his mind.

Smoke rolls up the side of his face entering his left eye. He takes a big puff just as it comes in contact just seconds before the burning sensation goes into effect. Holding the smoke in his lungs, he rubs his eye for a moment as it begins to water. “Son of a bitch” he says as he slowly exhales and the smoke engulfs his head. A tear rolls down his cheek briefly before getting wiped away by his forearm as he raises the roach back to his lips.

“Those were the days. Untouchable.” He mumbles as he stops the video and switches over to the local news. Taking a few more drags from the joint he places it in the ashtray. Out of nowhere, the infamous “Big Green Book” shows itself as he pulls it from underneath the couch. Reaching in between the cushions of the couch he pulls out a crisp bag of some of the stickiest, dankest, smelliest weed in the county. “Sour Diesel” he says as he holds a nice sized nugget up and looks at it as the rays of light reflect off the trichomes as they break through the tattered curtain.

The telephone rings from across the room and catches his attention instantly. Placing the book down on the coffee table he slowly stands to his feet as he stretches his upper body in rise. Dragging across the room he shifts into the kitchen and grabs the phone from the counter sitting beside an empty pint of Jager turned over beside the microwave.

After looking at who’s on the other end he answers without hesitation. “Thirty minutes. (pause) I’m just eating breakfast right now. Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll meet you down at the gym. (pause) Look it. I’m all in this time bro. (pause) I just hope you can keep up old man. (click)” he says just before slowly lowering the phone from his ear.

Shaking his head back and forth he turns back towards the living room and proceeds. “Jerry, you old bastard. I told you I wasn’t starting before quarter to seven. I’m goin’ to handle my business, clear my mind and start today off on another level.” Sitting back on the couch he grabs the book from the coffee table and sits it in his lap. Picking up the same nugget a smile comes to his face as he tears a chunk from the base.

“It’s time to get back on track.” He says with confidence as he breaks up the bud completely covering the cartoon picture of earth. “I’ve wasted enough time since fully returning to the business. I’m in the best shape I have been in a very long time. The past few months, before headin’ south in refuge, were a complete joke for my career. Those morons continue to run that promotion into the ground deeper and deeper with every show. It was only a matter of time before I came back to greener pastures.”

Reaching underneath the couch he pulls out an orange glass pipe. Sitting it on the book his phone sounded once again in the background. Ignoring the call he begins to slowly prep his medicinal dosage. “Come on, Jerry.” He says in a soft tone as he stares at his working hands below. A few moments after the ringing stops, it starts right back up, déjà vu.

Putting on the finishing touches below, he slowly raises the glass to his lips and takes a swing for the fence. Fighting for breathe Knoxville holds in the smoke as his lungs expand just before erupting. “cough” Without restraint the smoke bursts from his mouth in a massive cloud of haze rising upwards. Hesitantly, he places the book on the coffee table and tops if off with the glass. Quick to his feet Knoxville turns for the hall leading down to his bedroom. Taking that first step his arm turns to the side revealing an old tattoo from a memorable past. “IM” in capital graffiti style black letters with dark green trim accents.

Off to an impressive early start in his career Knoxville earned the respect of two individuals who dominated the same promotion he worked so hard to break into the business with. First being confronted by Kash, Knoxville was easily influenced with a proposal. Then after meeting the big guy, it was sealed with a handshake. Influential Minds was born and the bar has been raised ever since… for some that is.

Remembering past times have been easy seeing the path his career has taken him. This era in professional wrestling didn’t just leave an everlasting impression in the business. It made an impact on the individuals involved in the history. It involved three different men with similar interests in mind. Having two veterans looking over his back, Knoxville learned the ins and outs of the business. From who was once an up and coming superstar now stands before you a broken down man searching for his way.

Fame, glory and reputation quickly became the downfall of Tommy. Winning a strap this early in his professional career right off the bat filled his head with a little ego and cockiness you could say. Plain and simple, climbing to the top so quickly turned a once hard working athlete into the lazy average American goin’ through the motions. He just wasn’t there. Physically maybe, but he wasn’t there mentally. It was at that exact moment when Jason and Ted dropped him from the roster and left him for the wolves.

Harsh, no. Deserving, yes. Knoxville had become a thorn in the side with his behind the scene problems with authority and pharmaceuticals. If the club had any chance of not losing credibility it was right now. Look it, they had to do what they had to do. At the end of the day it’s just business. With these three though, it was a little more than that. This was a brotherhood. If losing one brother was for the better of the club then so be it. But how come one person be the center of attention each time and not take credit for each and every departure?

“Snap out of it.” That’s neither here nor there. Let’s get back to the subject at hand. After being away for a few moments he walks back into the living room wearing a different pair of basketball shorts and a white wife-beater. Glancing over his tattooed arms, he sits back on the couch and takes another drink from the Gatorade he left on the coffee table. Noticing the pipe down there as well looking back at him with puppy dog eyes he just couldn’t resist the temptation.

Resisting just wasn’t an option. The smell had made its way into his nose cavity lingering between the hairs. Picking the glass up from the table he raises it to his mouth and strikes his lighter once more filling his lungs with smoke, goodness, while his finger slowly work the carb and fuel the fire. Jerking his head back from a cloud of smoke covering his face Knoxville struggles to hold his breath as his face quickly turns dark red. About twenty seconds pass before he exhales straight into the air like a chimney.

“This was bound to happen sooner or later.” He says quietly as he regains his breath and releases a soft cough followed by a small, almost transparent cloud of smoke. “Four years. I can’t believe it’s been that long. Kash and I have managed to keep in touch over the years, even worked together in a few other promotions.” Leaning back, sinking into the couch cushion, he thinks to himself for a moment as he stares into wonderland. “Demon on the other hand, where the fuck has he been? I haven’t seen him in the ring since he laid down for Knuckles when TcW closed its doors. Respect earned? Fuck no. It was his way of getting out of this filthy business that consumes us day by day. Oh well. I’m just happy to have to big lug back, with or without us joinin’ forces.”

Taking one last toke, he makes it count. Nearly cashing out the bowl he swallows a force of a cloud to be reckoned with. As his lungs explode from the inside Knoxville stands to his feet and places the glass on the coffee table. He coughs uncontrollably for a moment before getting his act together and slipping his sneakers over his dirty white socks. Walking to the kitchen he rubs his eyes for a moment before stopping at the far right drawer. As it slides open he reaches in with his left hand and pulls out a half empty bottle of Visine. Tilting his head back he raises the bottle over his eyes as his fingers apply pressure to the plastic shell forcing out a single drop splashing as it meets the cornea.

- AMERICAN HIGH -

“It’s time to give this opportunity the attention it deserves. I will admit. At first when the thought of comin’ back to the states ran across my mind I was skeptical. I had been on a constant up and down ride straight out of the depths of hell. Earlier in the year I found myself aligned with APW and I have to admit, things were lookin’ in my direction. I wasn’t around long but while I was here I can promise you that the people who stood on the other side of the ring from me remember exactly who the fuck I am. I’m the same mother fucker that first took off in the business in ’07 from being nobody and turning into somebody. It was a lot of hard work but in the end it all paid off. Well, until cockiness played its roll. I stand before now a different man. Although I am the same guy you knew years ago, I’ve learned things along this course that will stick with me forever. I’ve been at the top of the food chain alongside you and Kash only to fall in the deepest depths of a world full of shit. In the blink of an eye I lost it all. The gold, the fans, the money… it all means nothing if you don’t have respect. All the flash in the world amounts to shit at the end of the day.

Although we’ve had our past, we’re still brothers in arms. We might not see eye to eye at the moment but we represent the same values. You were once a great influence on me and my career. In fact, you still are to this day. Just understand one thing. With this upcoming match, there’s a title shot attached. I know our boy, one of the original three, just so happens to be the holder at that specific title. At the end of the day I’m back again to start off on the right foot and prove to the world that Tommy Knoxville isn’t goin’ anywhere. I’m not standing down. We can beat the livin’ hell out of each other as we’re the only two left standing in the ring and meet after the match and have a beer or two together. It’s business in the ring for me this time. Outside the ropes, we can let emotion come into play but while I’m in the ring emotion plays no part in my new decisive perspective on the business and my career. We’ll always be brothers. Influence never dies; it only gets disguised by bad habits. We’ve come this far. Now what, sit back while six other bitches dance around in the ring trying to be us?”