Chapter One: Future’s Present Rise

July 27th, 2015

I’ve lost track of the time…

I lost at Rise to Greatness. I was pinned by Tommy…fucking…Valentine. Goddamn it, I lost again, not only at the biggest event of the SCW pay per view schedule, at the SuperBowl for Supreme Championship Wrestling, but I lost to Tommy Valentine. I am sitting in this hotel room, another room paid for by Olek and the SCW. I think this and I think about what happened the last time I lost to Tommy Valentine. I lost the Underground Championship to that son of a bitch and I came back to my room, where I sat down. I didn’t count the tiles in the floor to wall ceiling. I sat there and I thought about losing to Tommy. I thought about my SCW career and then…


…And then I exploded. I destroyed that hotel room. I punched holes in the wall. I slung the television set out of the window into the hotel owner’s car. I carved obscenities into the walls and I wiped my ass with the bedsheets. I can’t recall everything that I did. I just know that I did a lot to warrant a pink slip from the boss man himself. I think about this and I cannot help but laugh about it. I find myself in the same situation, alone in a hotel room, alone to my thoughts. I am thinking about losing to Tommy. I am thinking about my career with the SCW since I’ve returned. I feel the anger boiling inside of me. I feel my hands grasping the baseball bat that I keep around for times where I need to explode or when someone steps out of line. I want to destroy every fucking thing in this room but…

I’m not. I am sitting here, staring at nothing, and thinking.

Tommy Valentine continued his roll. Oh my God everyone is talking about how Tommy Valentine is on fire!!! They are talking about how Merrick Wiseman took a loss, but he seemed to be happy with the result. The result was that I did not win! And Jake Starr, well he didn’t care to begin with. He was just there. Jake Starr was nothing more than filler. I no longer care for Jake Starr. I do not care for Merrick Wiseman. I care about Tommy Valentine. I want him to be healthy. I want him to be on his A game when our paths cross once more, because they will cross and when they do…I will end this. He may not think this is some sort of personal rivalry, but this has become personal. I refuse to be some sort of stepping stone for Tommy Valentine. I refuse to be…

…Underneath Tommy Valentine….

Oh God just the thought of it irks me. He is going to get all of this praise about how he outlasted three other superstars and blah, blah, fucking blah. Tommy Valentine and those in charge of writing columns and posting the Elite 15 can all eat a dick. I am used to not receiving praise or getting credit where it is due. I am used to this. It has become a part of who I am. I am bigger than that. I refuse to stand on the shoulders of those with less. Just as I refuse to explode once again. Just as I refuse to destroy this hotel room. I want to. The urges are there.

But I have to remind myself of something. I have to remind myself that I am in….



“Rise to Greatness was not a success story for me. I lost again at the biggest event of the year. HaHa. Tommy Valentine got to ride off into the sunset, looking like a superstar, standing tall and victorious. But you see, I know that I should feel bad, but I don’t. I know that I should be upset, but I’m not. The way I look at it is this way. It came down to Tommy and I. Merrick Wiseman and Jake Starr were nothing more than fumes, nothing more than afterthoughts. Tommy and I duked it out, and I managed to lift him up for the Middle Finger to the Establishment, but he wiggled out and planted with a move I am oh so familiar with, the Griever’s Bane. And then he pinned me. The fact that it was a four way match, and that he and I were the last two in the ring, that matters to me. Tommy Valentine did not beat me. I beat me. I handed him a victory, because the poor bastard needed it more than me. I know that I have thrown my temper tantrums and I have left this company after a loss, but that was in the past. I am a new and improved…me.”

“The way I see it, unlike Mr. Valentine, I am bulletproof. I can handle wins and losses. I may not have shown it in the past, but once again, that was the past. Wins and losses truly do not make me look weak or less than others. If I relied on the SCW to promote me then yeah it would be a different issue, but since I am promoting myself, since I am in CONTROL, I know that I am going to be fine. I know that I am bulletproof. I know that I am still going to be one of the biggest names in this business. I will make millions of dollars in this profession. Tommy Valentine wants to open up a wrestling school and give back to the industry. Everyone wants to give back to this industry that takes so much from us. I am not looking to give back. I am not here to give back. I am here to drain this motherfucker for all it is worth and then some.”

“That is what makes me the perfect foil for the heroes of this company. Heroes like Tommy Valentine. Heroes like my upcoming opponent for the next edition of Breakdown.“

“Hey Merrick….”



July 27th, 2015


It would be so easy to revert back to my old ways and piss all over this room. It would be so easy to carve the words “FUCK SCW” into the walls of this room. It would be so easy to create all kinds of destruction and mayhem within these four walls, but I’m not going to do so. It seems much easier to not do so. I mean, when I did that sort of thing last time, it cost me my job. At the time, I hated it. I hated working for Oleska Drachewych and I hated competing against people like Tommy Valentine, David Helms. I hated knowing men like Syren and Reagan Street were competing in main events, getting all kinds of recognition while I was down at the bottom, barely getting noticed. It drove me insane, which is something the entire world knows to be true. I couldn’t help it.

But I can help it now. I am in control now. If I were to resort back to those sort of actions then I would be proving everyone else right and I have never fancied myself as a guy who does that. I refuse to prove anyone right other than myself, because everyone else can kiss my black ass. Only my opinion matters when it comes to my wrestling career, or my personal life. I can buy and sell the SCW in the blink of a fucking eye and nobody knows it. I could put retards like Tommy Valentine and Merrick Wiseman out on the streets, leaving them without a pot to piss in at the drop of a goddamn dime. They really have no idea how good they have it. The same could be said for Oleska Drachewych, who rests comfortably as he leans on his cane, soon to be a walker, because I have not forgotten about the match proposal with that old gimp. It still stands. I will have to mention it once again.

Mental note…

Speaking of my mentality, I am calm, cool and collected. To be honest, I am actually in a pretty chill state. I am surprised at myself in a kinda sorta way that I haven’t acted out and destroyed the property that surrounds me. I have told myself over and over, like a broken record, or that annoying song that gets stuck on repeat, that I will get my hands on Tommy Valentine, that he and I will meet in that ring sooner rather than later. Knowing and understanding this makes me happy. It fills me with joy. I have told myself that I will find myself in the ring against Merrick Wiseman, and I will be able to kick his ass from pillar to post, that there will be no fucking double count out or a fucking disqualification to be thrown in the mix. I tell myself that I will not be stopped as I rise up against the heroes of the SCW and I take them out…

One by one…



“Merrick Wiseman the Law here in the SCW…the Watchman of the SCW…the former United States Champion here in Supreme Championship Wrestling. The man, the myth, the legend….James Evans will be facing Merrick Wiseman on August 19th, 2015 for the post- Rise to Greatness edition of Breakdown. It is a match that has been months in the making Merrick as the lawman stuck his nose in my business after I handed Gable Winchester his ass during the opening rounds of the Best of the Best tournament. It progressed as he constantly came out and ran his mouth to me, like I am supposed to be intimidated by him, or like I am supposed to respect his authority. I hate to break it ya Merrick, this ain’t South Park and Cartman you are not…I have no respect for you or your authority.

When I came out a few months ago, after wiping the ring mat with the face of Andrew Raynes and I picked up that microphone, and proceeded to cut a scathing promo that pissed a lot of people off, you decided to try to put me in my place. Haha, you’re a funny guy, Merrick. I mean what are you my dad? Are you going to scold me every time I piss and miss the toilet for being fucking hammered? Do you think you’re going to put me in time out? You really have no idea who you’re dealing with here, Merrick. You really don’t have the slightest fucking clue.

I walk to my own rhythm and march to the beat of my own drum. That is when I cut that scathing promo, letting the powers that be in the company as well as the twats in the back that I don’t give two flying flips of a fuck about what they think or how they feel. I meant every single word of what I said, Merrick and when I said I’d be making people my bitches, it was truth. You can chalk that up as arrogance or immaturity. Chalk to whatever you’d like lawman, but you need to go ahead and be prepared to add your name to that list, because it is part of your inevitable future. And you know what they say don’t you Merrick? You can’t stop the inevitable.

I am the future’s present, Merrick and you are a thing of the past. You just don’t realize it. You are a dying breed. You like to be the hero, the all-around good guy. You want to play by their rules. I play by own rules and I will take great pleasure in beating you and giving you as well as everyone else here the Middle Finger to the Establishment…



Chapter Two: Man behind the Mask

August 9th, 2015

I walk through my closet, looking at all of my suits, holding a smirk on my face. It was dropped last night but I saw it this morning. I was informed of who my upcoming opponent is going to be. It isn’t Tommy Valentine which I am not too happy about, but there is still time for that. My opponent is Merrick Wiseman. This pleases me quite a bit. I have wanted Merrick one on one for a while and I have that opportunity at Breakdown. I look at my suits and I laugh, as my mind thinks up Merrick Wiseman and his ridiculous get up. The mask, the leather jacket, looking like the gay 90s Goth version of the Lone Ranger. I look at my suits, the jackets, the shirts, the ties, the pants and the shoes and I wonder if I become a different person when I slide those clothes on, just as Merrick more than likely becomes someone else entirely when he places the mask over his face.

It is one those clichés that has been seen throughout the history of professional wrestling, especially in the SCW. People like Jason Zero, Shilo Valiant, Masquerade, so on and so forth. They would all come up with different nicknames or aliases, depending on their mood or menstrual cycle that month. Jason Zero was the Phantom, the Irish vampire or some shit, before he became the Hero of Time. Shilo Valiant has been on Trail of Tears, the Seasons of Shit, the Underground Railroad, and the Road to El Dorado. He has been the Entertainer, the Blood Faced Joker, to the Riff Raff Rafter Guy that everyone hopes to suffer a mechanical malfunction before dropping face first onto a turnbuckle. Now, that would be entertaining. Masquerade was Stephen Strange then Shilo gave him herpes of the face, so he put on a mask.

It makes me wonder why Merrick puts on the mask. Is he hiding something? Is his real name Merrick Wiseman? The questions flood my mind as I grab a jacket, shirt, tie, pants and a pair of shoes. As I step out of the closet, my mind is flooded with more questions. I ask myself if something happened to Merrick for him to want to put on a mask. I wonder if it is something straight out of a comic book, like if he witnessed the murder of his parents like Bruce Wayne before becoming Batman. Was he bitten by a spider, with the toxin fucking up his brain as to where Merrick thought he had spider like agility and superhuman strength? I tell myself that the possibilities are endless, before asking myself if Merrick is just trying very hard to be relevant in the landscape of the supreme, that he has put on a mask out of desperation.

I remind myself that I have done things out desperation. Things like saying I was a wrestler for the people. Things like becoming a fan favorite. Things like saying that I respect David Helms and Tommy Valentine. I have done cruel and unimaginable things to myself simply because I was desperate for this and that. The very thought, the very honesty of it all, makes me want to race into my bathroom and vomit. But then I just shake it off.

I am not desperate anymore. I do not need a mask. I have nothing to hide. The suits I wear, I am not them, they are me. I own them. They do not own me. I could live without the suits and the power that seemingly comes along with them. I do not become something else entirely when I put the clothes, just as I do not become something else when I lace up my boots and step inside of a wrestling ring. I am James Evans all day long, 24/7, 365. I am dangerous son of a bitch and a massive prick with a massive dick. I pity people like Merrick Wiseman, who have to hide who they really are.

James Evans has nothing to hide sweetheart, in terms of who he is and what he is capable of…



“The Middle Finger to the Establishment, it is a powerful move, Merrick. Several superstars in the back have felt it and they are left cold and motionless for a solid three seconds. But I didn’t name the move that just for shits and giggles. No, I named it that for a reason as that is what I have been doing ever since I signed the dotted line, thus becoming a member of the SCW roster. I have given the middle finger to the powers that be each and every time I stepped into the ring, from the days I was busting my ass, out working each member of the Chosen, to the times I was champion, to the times I picked up a microphone or stepped in front of a camera and wore my heart on my sleeve, letting what I felt slip off of the tip of my tongue.”

“I have never cared to voice my opinion. I have always stood up for myself. I have never tried to please anyone in the back. I have never cared to get on the good side of anyone. I have never tried to hide that fact. I have never tried to mask that fact, Merrick. I mask nothing, unlike you. You hide behind a mask. You are like a cop. Your mask is your badge. You, like an officer of the law, hide behind your badge, because it gives you a sense of power. But the way I see it, just as I do with the police, without that badge, you are nothing but a mere mortal. You’re just a man…”

“And I know what you’re thinking…oh James, you’re a man as well. But you see, there is a difference. You are a man. You are afraid of things, which I am not. The biggest thing you’re afraid of is the power that Oleska Drachewych possesses. He is like your nagging wife that has your balls in a vice. Oleska does not intimidate me. He doesn’t have a hold over me, like he has a hold over you. He can fire me tomorrow and I know that I can go elsewhere and be just as successful if not more successful. I can be something no matter where I go, or what I do. I can compete in Japan and reach the top. I can go into movies and become a big time action superstar. I can go do television and have the number one rated show in the fucking world just because I am involved. I can go on and on, but you get the point. Merrick, you have a lot of talent in the ring. You are a hell of a wrestler, but outside of that, what are you? You are a bread crumb. You are an ant. You don’t believe in yourself which is why you don’t stand up for the boss man and fight for the things you want. It is why you are overlooked on a consistent basis, no matter how many good things you do, no matter how many good fights you fight. You use that mask, you use this whole idea of standing up for truth, justice and all of that other bullshit, as a distraction. But Merrick, I see the truth…”



August 18th, 2015

The rental car pulls up and screeches to a halt just a few inches away from me. I sigh as the guy I have come to known as Henchman #1 gets out of the driver’s seat and walks to the back of the vehicle. He smirks at me as he opens the door.

Henchman #1: “Are you ready, Mr. Evans?”

I roll my eyes behind the lens of my sunglasses, while expressing a smirk, before responding.

James Evans: “What sort of question is that? You should know me. I am always ready. I go out there. I kick ass in the ring. I perform better than everyone else. Of course I am ready. And call me James…please. Okay, never mind, call me Mr. Evans. Sounds way more official and we aren’t fucking friends.”

Henchman #1: “I figured you were ready, Mr. Evans. I was just curious since you lost at your last match. I am sure things will be different this time. I will be sure the boys and I watch your back and make sure things go a hell of a lot smoother than they went at Rise to Greatness.”

I release another sigh and look down at the ground for a few moments, shaking my head in the process. After I finish sighing, I look back up at Henchman #1 and reply.

James Evans: “Yeah you guys are going to watch my back? You guys couldn’t handle Jake Starr for fucks sake. You guys couldn’t handle a guy running around in a mask and a fanny pack. You sure as shit couldn’t handle the living, breathing road map in Tommy Valentine. You guys weren’t able to do any real damage. Yet, here you are, talking like things are going to be different, that you and the so called crew won’t fuck up this go round.”

Henchman #1: “We weren’t on our A game. What can I say?”

I smirk upon hearing those words as they just roll off of his tongue.

James Evans: “What can you say? I am sure you can say a lot of things. But you see, right now you’re coming to me with nothing but problems. What that means is this: You are talking a lot of shit and that causes me problems. So far, none of you have proven to be reliable. Loyalty is one thing, but reliability is another and I need both. So far you and the boys haven’t lived up to a damn thing and I am not sure that I can deal with those sort of things much longer. If you want to stay employed, if you want to be on television, walking around with a mega superstar such as the one before you, then you need to bring more than the A game. You are going to have to get together, huddle with your boys and come up with a solution to these problems.”

He looks at me, with puppy dog eyes, all sad and shit. It is the epitome of pathetic looking.

Henchman #1: “You’re right, Mr. Evans. What can we do to make it better? How can we fix the problem? You tell me and I will make sure we get it together.”

I want to slap the piss out of him before telling him that he as well as the rest of his boys are fired. I want to tell him that I am going to hire some Mexicans or some nigs who are in need of employment, but I don’t. At first it seemed like a good idea, but I really don’t want to be associated with trash. If it is going to be trash then I would prefer it to be white trash.

James Evans: “I can think of a million things here kid, but one of the first things that pops into my mind is putting Tommy Valentine in the hospital. Or even better yet, put Merrick Wiseman in the hospital before our match at Breakdown. Attack him backstage. Shove a pineapple up his ass. Strangle him with the string around his mask. Put a snake in his boot. I don’t care what you do, just do something. You can bring me Tommy Valentine, beaten nearly lifeless so I can have him raped by meth heads after dumping him in a ditch somewhere. Those are some really good ideas. Don’t take them as your own, because they’re mine. I just giving you the building blocks in hope that you don’t fuck up this week and that you’re able to redeem yourselves.”

A smile appears upon his face. He still looks like an idiot, but he takes lots of beatings for me, so I shouldn’t complain too much.

Henchman #1: “Thank you Mr. Evans. I am sure the boys will also appreciate that vote of confidence.”

I smirk and nod for the millionth time it feels like, before sliding into the backseat of the car. I speak once more before closing the door.

James Evans: “Don’t get too excited. So far, you have all fucked up so I am not holding my breath for any improvement. If there isn’t any improvement, saying that we are going to have problems will be an understatement. Now let’s hit the road…”



“And do you know what the truth is Merrick? I will go ahead and spell it out for you, since you are too busy being blinded by this concept of being a hero. I am everything that you hate. I cheat. I say racist things which I still haven’t and will not apologize for. I have made it known I have no issue with slapping the shit out of a woman be it Tommy Valentine or Rayvn Taylor. I am good looking. Hell, in fact I am great looking. I am one handsome son of a bitch. And I am simply amazing inside of the ring, win or lose. I show more and more each week why this business needs me. Hell, this business fucking loves me a hell of a lot more than I love it. I am a diamond shining in a sea of rocks. You are one of those rocks, Merrick simply because you limit yourself.”

“You limit yourself to hiding behind a mask, behind a badge of honor that truly doesn’t exist or have relevance in this world. My world to be exact, mind you. You limit yourself to doing what is right, to being nothing but boring when you could dabble in the realm of wrong, a place where you can live a little. But you choose to remain your usual self, and you see me. This is where the truth comes out. I am everything that you hate and you hate me because you ain’t me. You want to be me, Merrick. You want to know what it is like to have accolades and accomplishments to your resume. You want to know what it is like to grow a pair of balls and have the attitude that tells you that you can do whatever you want to do. You have it in you to do so, Merrick. You have to believe it to achieve it. You don’t have to limit yourself. You don’t have to hide behind that stupid faggoty mask. You can be who you really are, the man you hide away from the world, the man you’re afraid of being. To quote Vader, come over to the dark side, Merrick. It is all nice and cozy. You can trade in the code of ethics for the cheat codes. You can actually become something in this company, instead of what the boss man has saddled you with being…You can say no…”

“Haha…of course you’ll have to wait until you wake up from the ass kicking you’re going to receive at Breakdown, my good man. I have set the game and laid out the cards. I have informed you of all of your options. Now it is up to you as to what you do with them. Either way you choose, I still have to kick your ass. It is going to be oh so sweet, because there will be no running around. There will be no count outs and all of that bullshit. I am going to beat you like a bitch before pinning you for the one, two, three and walking to the back, so you can contemplate your life choices. See you at Breakdown.”