That is something that I am not proud of.
But it didn’t matter at that point. I left. I was going to disappear and leave the SCW behind. I wanted no part of it. I was going to take the SCW title with me and watch from a distance as the company dwindled down into the nothing that it is destined to become. But that didn’t happen. I made my intentions known in front of a camera and yet Mr. D in all of his genius wisdom booked me on the next show. I guess he felt like I was joking.
I wasn’t. I didn’t show up. I was elsewhere, doing other things that only I and a few select people know. But even if nothing had gotten in my way, there was no way in hell I was going to show up and compete against a nobody, someone who is even lower than Mitch Doogan, and all of his supreme power, on the totem pole of success in the company. Drachewych must be high to think that I am going to compete at a lower level than what I am worthy of. I know that I am better than most anyone who has ever been here.
I know that I am better and that I have more talent inside of that ring than most people who have ever laced up a pair of wrestling boots and stepped in between those ropes. I know that there are those who will argue against me. That is fine. I can handle it. I know better. I know the truth. Like I am sure Merrick Wiseman believes that he is better than me in the grand scheme of things because he was able to pin me but he isn’t. He got a win over me. Congrats. I will gladly take him on because sooner or later, he will fall.
I am going to make sure that everyone placed before me will fall.
I would love to step into the ring against Dawn Lohan and beat her senseless. I would love to make her eat my fist. I would love to kick to Merrick in his balls and watch him gasp for breath. I would love to break Kennedy’s nose and force her into early retirement. I would love to cause David Helms an injury so bad that he will have to call it quits before he originally planned. Same with Syren. Same with Rayvn. I would love to do it to Tommy so I can put him out of my misery. I am sick of all of them.
Mr. D wants to keep me under contract. Ha, I am going to make him regret it.
I am going to cure myself of the sickness this company has infected me with. I am not here to save this place anymore. I am only worrying about myself.
Who says you can’t go home? No, I am not Bon Jovi. I am not going to talk about all of the things that I miss, because I am pretty sure I don’t miss anything about my hometown anymore. I don’t miss my mother’s cooking. I don’t miss the small town life at all. I used to, but not anymore. I am not sure what signaled the change in my opinion, but I just really don’t care. But here I am. I’m back home, wishing I wasn’t. I can’t do anything about it now. I should have said no, just as I should have said no to Sanders all of those years ago. I said yes to him just as I said yes to Briggs and I am back in this hell hole, a place filled with my own personal demons and painful memories.
That is exactly what I wanted to deal with.
I find myself at a bar, which is pretty much all this place is filled with. Shitty restaurants and bars full of worthless pieces of white trash. It is a scene that I do not want to be associated with, but here I am. I know that this is may be the best place to get in touch with Sanders, as I heard through the grapevine that he owns the place. I light up a cigarette, something I haven’t done in a long time. I take a few drags, trying to ease my nerves. I am pissed off at myself, but the little voice in the back of my head tells me to get over it, to suck it up. It says that there is nothing that I can do now.
It says that I am just going to have to deal with it.
I take one last drag before dropping the cigarette down onto the wet pavement. I stomp it out and tell the little voice to go fuck itself as I head towards the entrance of the bar. I open the door and I am automatically stopped by some overweight redneck with a shaved head and rebel flag tattoo on the side of his neck. He looks at me up and down, “Are you a member?”
I meet his gaze, “You have to be a member here? You’re shitting me right?”
I can tell he is not amused with me as his facial expression changes from docile to pissed off, “Yeah you gotta be a member and I ain’t shitting you. If you’re going to try to start shit you need to take your ass on down the road.”
I smirk, “But I like it here.”
He stands up from his seat and he towers over me. He reminds me of the gargantuan Big Will, minus the dreads, intelligent dialect, and soft spoken voice. He scowls at me before replying, “Are you fucking with me you little shit? If you are then I hope you can take an ass whipping…”
I put my hands up in surrender while maintaining my smirk, “Alright. I’m being an asshole. I apologize. I don’t want any trouble. I will pay to become a member. How much do I owe you?”
I pull out my wallet, when I hear a voice call out behind the overweight rebel, “You don’t owe anything, James…” I hear the voice and it doesn’t take long for it to register as to who it belongs to. I tilt my head to the right as he steps out from behind the door man.
I say, “Sanders…” I say, “It’s been a long time…”
He smirks as he gets closer, “Yes it has…” He pulls me close and we hug. He pats me on the back as he continues to speak, “How the hell have you been? It has been such a long time my man. A very long time. I can’t remember the last time I saw you, dude.”
I pat Sanders on the back and nod my head, “Yeah it’s been quite a while man. We’re in the same boat too brother, because I honestly can’t remember the last time we were around one another. I haven’t been him in fucking ages.”
The hug ends and Sanders keeps his right hand on my left shoulder. He looks at all serious like, before nodding his head as he says, “Well, it is time we change that. You need to come in and we’re going to sit down and talk man. I feel it’s time we catch up, you know what I’m saying? I feel like a lot has gone on in my life as well as this little place you once called home.”
I take my gaze from his as I look around, staring at the outside world surrounding us, nodding my head slightly, before returning my gaze to his as I respond with, “You got that right.”
Sanders smiles, his big goofy grin flashing his teeth at me, behind his whiskers hanging on his upper lip, “So you’ll have a drink with me?”
I shake my head no, “Nah man. I think I’m good.”
Sanders looks at me, confused and appearing to be a little upset at the same time, “What do you mean you won’t have a drink with me? James…we’ve known one another since we were kids. Did I do something to piss you off man? Did this asshole behind me do something? If he did I will fucking fire his ass on the spot…”
The neo-Nazi wannabe looks a bit bewildered as Sanders’ words seem to hit him, but then I crack a grin, hoping my response will smooth the situation, “Look, I said I’m good. I am too good to have just one drink with you, but if you want to have several then yeah I’m game.”
Sanders throws his head back and begins to laugh hysterically. He looks at me and slaps me on the shoulder repeatedly. At first it’s okay, but then it gets annoying and I want to tell him to stop fucking touching me, but then I remember the pictures I saw of those he had killed. The little voice in my head returns and tells me to keep my shit together, to go along with it. Sanders hugs me again, before turning and putting his arm around me, “You motherfucker…you’re always talking shit man. Come on, let’s get you drunk my friend. I am going to introduce you to some nice people. Help you make some new friends. How does that sound?”
I turn and lock eyes with Sanders, the guy I once knew, the guy I once considered to be one of my best friends…knowing that he isn’t the same guy I knew, and I say, “I was thinking of something else. I was hoping we could just chill out man…me and you…for old times’ sake…Just as long as you’re cool with it of course.”
Sanders nods his head, “You know man, I think that would be best. We can go into my office and just chill out. I can have some of the girls bring us our drinks and we can just kick back, relax and enjoy ourselves.”
I nod my head, “Yeah I’d like that…” I then look at the rest of the bar, extending my arm out, motioning for Sanders to go, “After you…”
I then follow Sanders into the front room of his bar, a place where I had a few drinks with friends for my twenty-first birthday. A place where I have memories, much like the rest of my hometown. Things have indeed changed. I know that I have changed since I was last here. But now I am back and I am thinking to myself, asking questions in my mind. I am wondering how much I am going to change now that I am home, now that I have found myself thrust back into the life, the world I wanted to leave behind, the world I was supposed to leave behind when I left with my father.
A life a sex, drugs, rock-n-roll, and all kinds of debauchery in various amounts await me, I tell myself, as I continue to follow Sanders through the crowd of drunken men and women, keeping my eyes on the door that keeps getting closer and closer. I tell myself that even though I told Briggs I would do this, that I would cross this line, I have to admit that I am nervous, because I know what is behind that door. I know that once I cross that line then there is a good chance I will change and it will be a permanent change. I tell myself that I don’t have to honor the agreement with Briggs, that I can just turn and run if I really want to, but I don’t do turn. I keep moving forward, as if whatever is resting behind the door is calling out to me, holding out its hands, motioning for me to get closer, so it can welcome me into its arms.
The door opens and I follow Sanders inside, crossing the threshold, dipping me feet back into the abyss. I feel a smirk on my face, telling myself that deep down, I knew that this day would come. I tell myself that it was only a matter of time.
I can’t help but laugh. After stating that I was going to quit, that I was going to leave with the SCW World Championship and watch the SCW die out, you all jumped on the bandwagon, buying into it all. You all started to think that I was just talking shit and that even if I left, I would be back. I get it. I have done it time and time again. Hell, you get constantly reminded of it every single time that I have a match or someone mentions me on television. Oh James is just going to leave again when things don’t go his way. And I will openly admit right here, right now…things weren’t going my way and I was going to bail. I was going to more personal reasons other than the fact that Mr. D doesn’t know how to properly book a true superstar unless that superstar has a vagina, or if the star is fucking someone with a vagina, or the star is best friend’s with a star fucking someone with a vagina…yeah I basically described the relationship between Tommy Valentine and David and Reagan Helms. But that is just the mentality here in this place and I can’t help but fucking laugh about it. I would have laughed as well had I won the World title and left this fucking company. I would have laughed while it tried its best to limp on without a true champion, a true face to lead this company into the future and not some bitch who belongs in the kitchen making me a sandwich.
But I thought to myself…after hearing through the grapevine that Mr. D booked me in a match against some no name piece of shit enhancement talent, who competes on the local indy circuit. I thought about it and I realized that Mr. D was doing nothing more than trying to mock me. He was trying to get under my skin and make a mockery of my career. And sure, people can say that I have done that by coming and going but I am not the only wrestler to have left and come back. Xander Valentine, CHBK, and Jason Zero…all legends…they have taken sabbaticals. Zero and Valentine have bailed when things haven’t gone their way, yet their legacies are still strong. They will be remembered. I will be remembered as well. My legacy will live on even after I finally call it quits. But that isn’t going to be for a long time. Mr. D…you want to mock me? You want to duck my challenges for fucking months and then try and mock me by booking me against a no name? If I wanted to face a no name I would have been asked to face Merrick Wiseman or Tommy Valentine. I would have asked to face David who…But I didn’t. I was going to leave this place alone and put it out of my mind, but no. You had to twist the knife you shoved in my back almost a year ago.
You just had to didn’t you? You couldn’t help yourself. Well, I couldn’t help myself either. You want to book me against nobodies? Well, just in case you haven’t gotten it yet, Oleska…I don’t play by your rules. I am not going to play your game. You want to book me in some bullshit match? Well, I am not going to show up. I will take a page from the Evans family book based on wrestling and just start no showing like my dear old cousin, Chad. You want to try and mock me? Well, I will kick back and relax. I will sit in my locker room or come out onto the entrance ramp and light up a joint or have a few beers, because fuck you Oleska. You are too much of a chicken shit to stand up and fight me on your own so you want to play games like the coward you are. You sitting behind your desk or standing in front of me with security doesn’t cover up the fact that you have a yellow stripe running down your back and no sack to truly be a man and fight me. You want to send in your superheroes after me which is fine. You can book me against the heroes of SCW and I will knock the shit out of them.
Send in Tommy Valentine. I kicked his ass not too long ago. I can do it again. Send in Donovan Kayl and I will beat his ass worse than Josh Hudson used to be his “Cousin” or ex-gay lover, Devon back in the day.
You want to send in Simon Lyman and have him try to be sensational against me in the ring? Go for it. I welcome the challenge. I will shut that shit down faster than Trinity did when he probably tried to get back with her.
You want play games, Olek? Well, you gimp son of a bitch. I am right here. Try to pull that shit to my face and see what happens.
“So where have you been man?”
Sanders and I are in the back, away from all of the outside noise. There are only a certain few people with us. There are a few guys standing around, shooting the shit, laughing and smoking cigarettes or drinking. And there are a few women. The women to men ratio is three to one. They are more than likely not important to Sanders or any of the other guys in the room. I am sure they are nothing more than pieces of ass and eye candy.
Sanders and I are sitting in the corner of the room, where our eyes can be on everyone else. I take a toke off of the joint that Sanders rolled up for us upon entering the room. He still has exquisite weed. I then look over at him as I exhale, “I’ve been all over man, all over. I couldn’t even begin to tell you where I’ve been.”
Sanders laughs as I pass the joint over to him. He takes a toke or two before responding, “So basically you’ve been everywhere but here. Am I right?”
I nod as I take the joint from him, “Yeah you would be correct my friend. After everything went to shit with my dad, I decided it was best to get the fuck out of dodge for a little bit. All I remember is my dad telling me that shit had gone down and I needed to get out of town for a while. And I did…” I take a toke, hold it in for a few moments, before slowly exhaling, “I didn’t see or hear from my dad or anyone else until last year when my sister called to tell my father was in the hospital dying. I drove to the hospital but he had passed by the time I had gotten there. I didn’t even attend the funeral. I waited until everyone else left before I went and paid my respects.”
“That is crazy bro,” Sanders takes the joint from me, “I had heard he died. I didn’t know if it was true or not, as the man was the master magician. His disappearing act was top notch from what I remember.”
I say, “You got that right…”
He takes a second toke and holds it in, nodding his head as he passes it to me. I take it and he exhales, before asking, “So why are you back in town? You said you left but now you’re here. Is there any particular reason as to why?”
At first, I feel nervous but I tell myself to chill out. I take a drag off of the joint then shrug my shoulders as I exhale, “I guess you could say that I was looking to get back into business. My dad left me some money and shit. And since I am not so good at anything else, I figured I would hook up with some of my old friends to see what kind cash flow we could get going.”
Sanders shrugs his shoulders next as I pass the joint back to him. He looks up at the ceiling as he takes a drag. I watch as he exhales, blowing the smoke upwards. He continues to stare at the ceiling as he speaks once again, “So you want to get back into the drug running business, eh? I figured you would have grown tired of that after all of the shit you went through years ago.”
I lean over and pat Sanders on the shoulder to get his attention. He turns to me and we lock eyes, as I reply, “No. I am not running shit. I am not going out there to sell a damn thing. I want to be like my father. I want to be the man in charge.”
Sanders turns away and laughs, “James…buddy…be serious.”
I adjust my body, twisting to the left a little bit in my seat, “What do you mean?”
We lock eyes again as Sanders speaks, “I don’t think you have what it takes to be the man in charge. We used to work together man and you weren’t that great at running. Besides…you can’t be the man in charge of the drug trade in the city because I’m the man in charge. I have my fingers in all of the pies, James. I am everywhere.”
I smirk, “Well Sanders I feel like the kitchen is big enough for two cooks. Besides, when I was away, I settled in New York City. I know people up there that could definitely help you expand.”
Curiosity enters his eyes, “What are you proposing James? That we work together?”
My smirk retains, “Yeah. I don’t see why not. I don’t see why we couldn’t work together and take what you’re doing here and make it even bigger. You know people. You already have your organization going strong. I have money. I have my father’s connections. I have my connections in New York. This organization could become a fucking empire, Sanders.”
Sanders shrugs his shoulders again, his fingers stroking his dirty blonde goatee, letting out a “hmmm” sound, as he stares out at everyone else in the room, all dancing now with the girls. He then turns back to me “I’d rather not discuss business tonight, James. I’d rather have a good time since I haven’t seen you in years. So how about we just enjoy ourselves tonight like we originally planned?”
I nod my head and crack a grin, “Yeah that sounds good, but just tell me that you’ll think about it because I am dead serious.”
Sanders nods, “You have my word…now let’s go get fucked up and get you laid…”
Sanders then turns and away, getting up from the table and he disappears into the crowd within the room. I have a grin but I feel uneasy because I remember the photos of those who have fallen to Sanders. I wonder to myself which of the men in the room have killed for him, which of them would kill for him right now. I am not sure if Sanders trusts me. I have to admit the fact that he asked why I was back in town hit me in the gut, nearly knocking the wind out of me. It made my butthole pucker up a little bit, but it seemed I was able to justify my return.
I tell myself to stay focused and that I am going to have to grow eyes in the back of my head. I don’t trust Sanders as he isn’t the guy I grew up with. I am supposed to get in with him and work with him. I didn’t want to come begging for a job because that would seem weak, I tell myself. Coming to him with a business proposition, bringing up the fact that my father left me some money seemed like the best possible reason for me to even be sitting down with the man, or stepping foot into the town I left after my father turned narc.
I tell myself that my father was right. He once said that it was hard not to be paranoid in this sort of life. I am not sure if Sanders knows about my father becoming a narc. I am not sure if Sanders knows anything about my father’s death. Once again, I tell myself to weary of Sanders.
I used to claim that I was addicted to disaster and for the longest time I felt that I had outran disaster. I tell myself, as I pull a joint out of my pants pocket, that it seems disaster has found me again, becoming another monkey on my back.
S H O O T
I am sitting in my car, the night surrounds me. I am in some parking lot, that was once outside some big time shopping center until the recession hit and now there is nothing. I take a look outside of my window and just stare at the nothingness, wondering how things became the way they are to my hometown. I then look away, sighing somewhat before leaning forward and clicking the camcorder on, as I begin to speak.
“When I take a look back at my career, looking at the good times and the bad, the times I was actually competing and the times I took my ball and went home…I look at all of that and I have to say that I haven’t really been given as many opportunities in this company. You have all heard that same song and dance from me over the last few years. But it is true. I received one World title shot at Apocalypse and that was after beating Tommy Valentine. I wasn’t selected as a top contender nor was I given a one on one title match. I have to keep fighting and keep busting my ass in order to reach the top of the mountain in the SCW.”
“I guess that is what Dawn Lohan did. She fought and she left and she came back to fight some more. She has been inconsistent over the years like I have. Yet she is now the SCW Women’s Champion and she is the SCW World Champion. That last little bit made me want to fucking vomit because we have another wrestler with a vagina carrying the same title Steve Griffin carried. I think Dawn is a great Women’s Champion, but she is a disgrace to the World Championship. And people may think that I am just bitter because I have not won the World title in the SCW. I will be honest and say that you’re right. I am bitter. And that is why I have said fuck the SCW and fuck the boss. That is why I haven’t shown up for the last few weeks. I have been booked against wrestlers nobody has fucking heard of. You think I am going to waste my time with that shit?”
I smirk and shake my head.
“If you think that I am going to do that then you are probably doing more drugs than the Real Speed has ever done in his pathetic excuse of a life…”
I grab the camera and bring it closer to my face, before I continue to speak.
“I am not going to show up to a wrestling event and face someone who is beneath me, someone who isn’t even worth my time. Drachewych may want to turn my career into a joke, but that isn’t going to happen. I am in control, boss. You want to book me against losers, jobbers…then I will be taking a nap, fucking your daughter, or taking a shit in the hotel you paid for me to sleep in. You want to give me a challenge then I will be there. You want to put me against someone who will bring me a fight and bring out the best in me before I kick their ass and leave them lying in the ring? Then I will be there, Drachewych. You will get my absolute best each and every time you fucking gimp. That isn’t much different from what you’ve gotten from me in the past, as I have always given you my best. But I wasted my time facing nobodies in this company. I am not doing it anymore. I am not here to allow someone to build a career off of me. I am not some fucking enhancement talent to the stars. The stars can suck my dick and you can go eat shit old man.”
I rest the camcorder back onto the dashboard. I run my hands over my face, telling myself that it is time to remove Oleska Drachewych from my mind and focus on my upcoming match, my first match since Apocalypse. It is a match that I have wanted since my opponent stepped foot into the SCW.
“I do have to give you credit though Drachewych. I guess you figured it out so you booked me a match that actually captured my interest. You booked me against Simon Lyman, the hero the SCW deserves. You placed me in the ring against a man that I have wanted to face since he arrived to the SCW and started competing. You provided me with a challenge and I have to say thanks Olek. I just hope that you didn’t book this match thinking that Simon is going to teach me a lesson, because the only thing that will happen at Breakdown will be yours truly educating Mr. Lyman that you do not fuck with me. Yeah send your heroes boss and see what happens…”
I close my eyes for a few moments. I open them, release a sigh and a smirk grows on my face.
“When you look at the name of Simon Lyman, or even hear that name, you know that it is a name synonymous with the world of professional wrestling. The man is more than likely considered a class act wrestling legend in some promotions and I have no doubt that he is being eyed for a spot in the SCW hall of fame when he decides to call it a career. The man has accomplished quite a bit in the realm of professional wrestling and his accomplishments are hard to ignore. He is a four time World Champion outside of the SCW. He has been a tag team champion sixteen times with Donovan Kayl. I would be an idiot to say that none of that is impressive.”
“Hell it may even be smart to say that Simon Lyman is one of the best in this business.”
The words escape my lips and then my smirk fades.
“But that is going to be put to the test this week on Breakdown, Simon. Now I admit it. I don’t match you in terms of accomplishments and accolades, but I can match you in the ring. You may have more experience, but I was trained and mentored by Josh Hudson, a man who’s knowledge of this business far exceeds yours. And just as I have outdone Hudson and all of the things he’s done, I will outdo as well when we finally lock horns. You can call that cocky. You can call that brash and bold. Call it whatever you wish my friend, but you will call it truth when all is said and done at Breakdown.”
“I am one of the very best in this company and it is only because I am not part of some stable or super group, or because I am sticking my dick in a Street, I am not viewed as the top tier that I truly am. You are viewed as someone above me, someone better than me in that ring and this just doesn’t sit well with me. I am going to stand across from you and then we will tear into one another. You will have the upper hand and I will get it as well. We will fight until the end, but when that end comes, it will be your endgame, as I prove to be too much for you. I am younger and faster than you. You may call that an elementary argument but we both know that there is truth and validity in that argument. You have been doing this for quite some time and you’re getting up there in age. You’re pushing forty. Now that doesn’t mean you’re CHBK ancient because you’re not, but I know that it means things don’t work quite like they used to. I am sure that is a reason your wife left you.”
“You may have the experience but I have watched you before. You get a little over eager and you want to go for those big moves when you’re feeling it, when you are thriving off of the love of the crowd. All I have to do is bide my time, Simon. You will soar through the air like a superhero straight out of a comic book, only to crash and burn in reality, as father time tells you that you can’t do some of the things you used to do. And then you will spend yourself. All I would have to do then is move in for the kill and beat you senseless, before lifting you up and give you the middle finger to the establishment or a final exam that you are guaranteed to fail.”
“And after that happens, and I have pinned you one, two, three you will wake up and head back to your locker room. You will be met by Tommy Valentine and Donovan Kayl. You will share a hug and a circle jerk between the three of you, as they try to console you after your loss. But you will not be able to enjoy it because you will be thinking about me. You will be thinking about how despite thinking I was calling it quits or that I disrespected this business by no showing for two weeks. Those in charge of this business disrespected me. You want to step up and beat me up and teach me a lesson in respect? I say go for it. I welcome it, Simon. Show up and be sensational. Talk your game. But in the end, just as it was with your marriage…just as I am sure Trinity had thought to herself numerous times…you just don’t quite measure up.”
“Talk to you soon…”
I finish speaking, and I lean forward, pressing the button on the camcorder, cutting the feed.