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…

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“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…”

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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…”

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“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.”

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