Final Level is over. All has been said and done. We have new SCW World Tag Team Champions, but they are not James Evans and Jake Starr. Gable Winchester and Autumn Valentine managed to surprise us all and steal the win, as well as the belts. James Evans isn’t upset about this. He would love to meet the two of them in the ring, with the belts on the line in a two on two encounter. But as I said, James isn’t upset that he and Starr lost. The way James sees it, Simon Lyman and Donovan Kayl lost, proving that they are not as good as they have claimed to be, that they are nothing more than weak links in the tag division. In James’ eyes, they are weak links period.

But James has bigger fish to fry. He has made it known since he returned to the SCW that he wants a shot at the SCW Championship. He is in the voting poll for the End of the Year title shot, and even if he doesn’t win it, there is a chance that he will be able to compete for the chance to be named the number one contender at the first pay per view event of 2016. To be honest, James hates the entire concept. He hates having the hang on the vote of the fans. Even when he was deemed a good guy, he could never rely on them to provide him with opportunity, especially the opportunity to compete for the richest prize in the industry. Opportunities went to wastes of space like Thomas Watson, or Ducky, or God knows who else.

James would rather EARN his title shot through his hard work, something that he has always shown when he has competed for the SCW. It is something that has been largely ignored not only by the viewing audience, but the powers that be as well. Now James has the opportunity to showcase his hard work and determination to go down as one of the very best in the history of the company when he steps foot into the ring against a man he has never faced before in any capacity, though he has always wanted to test his mettle against the man known as…

CHBK, the Canadian Heart Break Kid.

James has no history with the man considered to be a legend, the man considered to be the very epitome of Supreme Championship Wrestling, but James has always wanted a match. He has made mention of it ever since his first tenure with the company, back when CHBK was popping that little blue pill to do his best to show Rayvn Taylor why he was the main event around here, but all he probably did was break her heart. But James sees CHBK as a legend. He will not deny that. CHBK has done it all and still continues to go, but way James sees it, CHBK is in the way. James was trained and mentored by an old rival of the Heartbreaker’s in Josh Hudson. James has mentioned this a various points throughout his career and James has brought it up for the simple fact that the world, especially those running the SCW, have forgotten what James can do, and what James is capable of doing in the ring. James has no issue with going out to the ring and once again proving to CHBK that he belongs in the same ring, that he deserves to be in the main event, that he deserves more opportunity. If James has to hurt and destroy a legend such as the Canadian Heartbreaker, then so be it. James will do just that. He isn’t here to go out and show respect. He isn’t here to go out so he can tear it up in the ring with his opponent, giving the fans what they want.

He is not here to steal shows or break hearts, even though he enjoys doing so. It’s not his sole purpose.

James is here to win matches, hurt people, and get paid to do both. James is here to win championships and build his legacy. James is here to do what he wants whenever the hell he wants to do it. The fans who make up the SCW universe and the suits in the office may think that James will not be able to recover from his loss at Final Level. They make believe he is going to walk out or just stop showing up until he feels like coming back. But they are wrong. James isn’t worried about proving them wrong either. James is here. James will be here until he gets everything he wanted, until every craving he has had for this business is satisfied.

James has been attacking the heroes that have been deemed so by the SCW and its fan base. James has proven that he can be a vicious competitor. He has shown that he has what it takes to put his opponents through one hell of a fight. At Supreme Saturday, James plans on destroying another hero, putting the man known as the Canadian Heartbreaker through one hell of a fight, before leaving him lying in the ring, as James will walk back to the back, victorious, not a care in the world for CHBK’s well-being.


November 22nd, 2015 Prudential Center Newark, New Jersey

Fuck it, I lost. Well, I didn’t lose as in no one from my team took the pin. Oh well, I am not going to lose my mind, I tell myself as I make my way towards my locker room, leaving my tag team partner behind. We aren’t friends. We went out and fought against three other teams. We lost, but we made it out. We were able to walk to the back with no issues. I stood in the backstage area, pacing back and forth, wanting to wait for the winners to come through so I could beat the shit out of them both. I do not care if there is a female involved. She signed up to be a wrestler, so she knows the deal. I wanted to but I decided against it. Let the spook and his nigger loving whore of a girlfriend enjoy their moment together. It won’t last long.

I reach my locker room and I open the door, slamming it behind me. I don’t even notice he is there at first. My mind is elsewhere, but when I hear him speak, there is no use in trying to deny it, as he says, “It sucks to lose doesn’t it? You want something so bad yet it is taken away from you,” I turn around after grabbing a towel from my gym bag to find Sanders sitting on a steel folding chair. He leans forward, brushing his long sandy blonde hair out of his face, as he glares at me.

I run the towel over my face, removing the sweat, dirt, and grime off of my skin. I draw in a deep breath, exhaling as I remove the towel from my face, “I’m assuming you’re talking about the deal with Mammon. Am I correct?”

“You know damn well what I am talking about you fucking prick…”

I scoff and shake my head, “Well, Sanders…the way I see it…I did us a favor. They wanted me to leave with them, leaving Anton and Rodriguez there at the meeting place. There was no way in Hell I was leaving with them. I don’t know them. I damn sure don’t trust them and to be honest, which this should be obvious…I don’t trust you.”

He smirks, “Well you know that I don’t trust you. I mean you are a fucking narc after all.”

“You know, you’ve been bringing that up a lot and using it against me, Sanders. I find it funny seeing how you know the way I was when we were younger. I could be just like that. Or…I could be a lot worse. I could be something far worse than you could ever imagine. You just don’t know it yet.”

Sanders slowly stands up from the chair, keeping his eyes locked with me, “I know two things about you James. One is that you’re a fucking narc as I previously stated and the second is that I know you fucked up a big deal for me. That doesn’t sit well with me and I am pretty sure you know that.”

I step forward a little bit, getting a little closer to Sanders, “So what are you telling me? You’re going to tell everyone else that I’m a narc? If that is the case then let me make a suggestion. Go ahead and fucking do it. Stop talking about it. Just do it.”

Sanders smirks and shakes his head, “I changed my mind James. I am going to do my best to set up another deal with Mammon. And I am going to make sure you’re there with me. If I have to offer you up as a sacrifice to let them know that I’m for real then I will do so.”

“And what happens if they don’t go for another deal? Then what? You going to have me taken out? I’m going to be honest here, Sanders. The more you talk about it and don’t do it, the less I take you seriously. From what I heard and saw before I became this narc you keep calling me, you were apparently ruthless. I’m beginning to think it has been nothing more than a put on. I don’t believe I buy it.”

“Well, James…I’m not selling anything to you. Everything you’ve heard about me…everything you’ve seen…it’s all true. Keep testing me and you’re going to find out first hand.”

I crack a grin and shrug my shoulders, “I guess we’ll see about that, Sanders. But in the meantime, I need to grab a shower so I suggest you get the fuck out of my locker room. Speaking of which…how in the hell did you get in here in the first place?”

It’s his turn to form a grin, which he does, “Money talks, James. You should know that. When I found out you fucked my meeting up, I wanted to make sure I saw you as soon as possible. What better place than here? I had to catch you when you were vulnerable, especially after you lost. Wrestling…what a fucking joke.”

My grin fades, “Well, what I do…it’s not a joke. It’s as real as it gets and I’m not vulnerable. I have no issue with fucking you up right now. You don’t have your boys here with you. The longer you stay here, the closer I get to hurting you, Sanders. We both know that I can do it, so get the fuck out of here before I show you…wrestler or not…I can knock your ass out.”

Sanders slowly backs away, letting out a sigh, keeping his eyes locked on me as he reaches my locker room door. He reaches behind him, opening the door, “I’ll be seeing you soon, James.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I say, glaring at him, watching as Sanders steps outside of my room. I stomp over towards the door, making sure it is closed and locked. I wait a few moments before releasing a sigh as I punch the door a few times, yelling, before drawing in a few deep breaths, telling myself to calm down. I walk into the shower and cut the water on, letting it warm up. I toss my towel on the rack outside of the shower, before entering into the locker room area. I grab some clothes out of my gym bag, and then I hear another voice.

“Don’t let him get to you, son…” I let the shirt in my hand rest back down on the bag before I slowly turn around, finding myself face to face with my father’s ghost. He smirks at me, flashing his teeth, “You handled him well. You’re showing him that you’re not afraid and that you’re not going to take his shit. You need to keep it up.”

“He’s not getting to me. I just don’t like the son of a bitch. He came here…to a world I have tried to keep separate from this bullshit. I don’t want that to happen ever again.”

I watch as the ghost pulls out a pack of cigarettes, clamping his teeth down on a smoke, removing it from the pack. He then takes out a light, lights it up and takes a puff, “Then you know what you need to do, James. Enough is enough of waiting for the right moment to present itself. Any moment is the right one. Hell, you could have killed him here tonight and claimed self-defense. Hell you could have done a lot especially given the fact that there are no witnesses.”

“Don’t worry you’re pretty little dead head. I have a plan. I am still waiting for the right moment to present itself. I want to make sure that the moment when I kill Sanders, that it’s a moment I can cherish. I want to be able to take my time so I can thoroughly enjoy it.”

“You are so my son. I can’t help but be proud. If I wasn’t dead, I would probably hug you. It’s good knowing that all of the things others tried to shield you from, that I exposed you to, are coming in handy. And I know you have a plan. I just can’t wait to see how it plays out. You should know how I am. I was never the most patient man. That hasn’t changed…not even in death.”

I smirk, “I wouldn’t expect anything less. Besides, where do you think I get it from? The fuckers around here,” I say, motioning with my finger, making a circular motion, referencing the wrestlers I deal with, as well as the owners, “Say that I need to be more patient when it comes to getting opportunities in this place. But fuck them.”

The ghost takes a puff off of his cigarette, “Well, you’ll have to make sure they notice you. It wouldn’t hurt to have a plan to deal with these fuckers as you so kindly labeled them.”

“Oh trust me, I have a plan. That douchebag I teamed up with tonight isn’t my friend. He’s just a part of my plan. I will dominate and take over this fucking company. I am not carrying him or riding off of his coattails. He may think so which wouldn’t surprise me. I don’t coast off of anyone else’s accomplishments or name value.”

He nods, “Oh I know. If you did, you would bought this fucking place right out from underneath those Canadian cunts a long time ago, letting them know you don’t mess with an Evans.”

I scoff, knowing that I am not really an Evans, but I tell myself that I was a part of the family long enough to qualify as one. The Evans Empire is much more than this company could ever strive to be and I have it all, “Yeah I could have done a lot but I haven’t. Using the power that comes along with the Evans name and its empire is a last resort tactic that I have tucked in my back pocket. I haven’t forgotten it. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

“Well don’t ever forget it. I worked hard to make sure you ended up with all of it. You have it for a reason.”

“Yeah…I know…” I close my eyes, as I begin to think of the woman I called mother, the two kids I called my siblings. I think of the situation I placed them in, the fact that I do love them. They are probably the only people that I actually love. I shake my head, telling myself that I have children, daughters that are mine and yet I don’t care for them as I do three people who aren’t even my blood. A lot of that has to do with their mother, but still. I open my eyes, and the ghost is gone. I sigh and shake my head before grabbing my clothes out of my bag and I head into the shower, removing my wrestling gear, straining here and there, due to the abuse I sustained in the ring. I step into the shower, and I let the water hit me, stinging the typical scrapes and bruises one gets from competing in this sport, before the steam rises over my body.

I climb out of the shower and put on my clothes on. I like to look good or presentable. It is something that I got from the man I grew up calling Paw Paw Henry. I wear a dark grey button up shirt, with a black vest and tie. I slip on some blue jeans and a pair of black and white converse. I pull on my black blazer. I adjust my tie as I check myself in the mirror before grabbing my bag and walking out of the locker room. As soon as I step out, I spot her. She is visibly upset, but that isn’t really my problem. As I approach her, I think to myself about how much I have hated the fact that she, along with other females, have been getting more and more opportunity in this company, especially more opportunity than me. I think about how I have wanted to cunt punt all of them on numerous occasions, including her, but then I reach her and all of that goes away.

All I can think is Goddamn, she’s fucking sexy. She has legs that grow up to make an ass of themselves. Legs that I would love to wrap around my head so that I can use them as earmuffs. She is talking to some abnormally large bald headed son of a bitch and some other hot bitch. And then I see him, the fucker I have wanted to curb stomp more than once in my wrestling career. He dated the mother of my children and talked a lot of shit. I never had the chance to throat punch the motherfucker. He sees me as I inch closer and this prompts her to stop talking. He and I lock eyes, as he motions for her to look. She, being Kennedy Street, turns and looks at me. Yeah she is just as hot in the front as she is from the back. Once again, I think, Goddamn…


I drop my bag on the ground, “You look like you’re having a shitty night.”

She shakes her head, scoffing, “Are you here to give Keenie more grief? If you are, I suggest you walk away now.”

I smirk before putting my hands up in surrender, “Easy now. I come in peace. From what I’ve gathered you’ve already experienced enough grief tonight. I’m not here to add to that so do us both a favor and dial it back.”

The big bald headed fuck steps forward a little bit, as she smirks at me. I stand there and sigh. She puts her hand to his chest, “Wait…Keenie thinks he’s telling the truth. Besides, he didn’t win his match either, so he and Keenie have something in common.”

I nod my head, ignoring the fact that she sometimes talks about herself in the third person. It has always been a pet peeve of mine, but she’s fucking hot as I have stated a few times now so I choose to let it slide, “Yeah I guess we do. But I’m handling mine a little bit better than you are. What happened to you out there?”

She closes her eyes, runs her hands over her face and through her hair, “Keenie was humiliated out there by those bitches. My own family embarrassed me in front of all of those people who wanted to see the Sexy, Flawless Diva become number one contender. She embarrassed me and laughed about it.”

I want to tell her that she should be happy that she’s had the opportunity to compete for the fucking belt…that she should be happy she was even considered to compete for a possible title shot, but I don’t. I think about all of the things I’d like to do to her outside of the ring for once, and it gives me the tingle in my lower man parts, but I have to tell myself to keep it together, “Yeah well she is a bitch like her husband. At least he’s gone. Maybe someone could force her to follow suit.”

“Keenie would like that very much…” She says as she wipes something away from her eyes. I am not sure if it was tears or not. Most of the women in this industry are good at being overdramatic, but I tell myself that maybe this one is genuine.

I crack a grin, reaching out, placing my fingers on her chin, lifting her head up to where our eyes meet, as I say, “Keep your head up. Get your shit together and then we can talk. Maybe we can make sure that happens in due time. Until then, remember that I’m around if you need me. All you gotta do is look J…(Goddamnit)…me up.”

I bring my fingers from her chin as she looks at me. I can see the curiosity in her eyes as a smile forms on her way more than beautiful face. I smile as well, before reaching down and grabbing my bag. I then slowly back up, keeping my eyes locked with hers for a few moments before turning away and heading towards the exit, trying to get my mind off of Kennedy and her incredible…everything.

I reach my rental car when the thought of Sanders enters my mind. I tell myself that I need to take care of the bastard and end this thing once and for all. I remind myself that he wants to set up another meeting with the rising drug cartel collectively known as Mammon. I let out a sigh and shake my head, because I see Sanders for the overzealous son of a bitch that he is. I then reach into my pocket and pull out one of my cell phones, before flipping it open and pressing SEND. The phone rings as I place it to my ear. A few rings in and a voice comes on. The voice belongs to a chunky friend of mine that has a laugh that annoys the shit out of me, but he is also a very intricate part of my plan, “Hello?”

“Sanders wants to meet again. This time he wants to meet with the leader of Mammon.”

The sound of crunching begins to echo in my ear. I let out another sigh as the crunching stops and he replies, “How do you want to proceed?”

“He said he was going to make contact so let him do that. When he does, I want you to tell him that the meeting can take place under one condition.”

“What’s the one condition?”

I feel a smirk form on my face, as I stare off into the night sky, “James has to be present for the meeting. Say that Mammon wants to teach him a lesson in respect.”

There is a slight pause in the conversation, before I hear a sigh coming from the other end followed by a response, “Are you sure that’s the best way to approach this thing, James?”

I think about how many times Sanders has threatened my life. I think about the innocent lives he has taken as I remember the pictures Briggs had shown me when this all started. I think about how he took from my family and then I say, “I couldn’t be any more serious, Daniel. Just get it done and call me back when something is set in stone,” I don’t utter another word or give him a chance to provide some sort of rebuttal. I hang up and climb into my rental car. I start it and drive off into the night, the smirk still on my face, as I feel I need to wear some shades because the future seems so bright. I push it into third and speed off into the night, letting it consume me.

- S H O O T -


I stare at the camera, my mind clear of the situation with Sanders, Mammon, and even Kennedy. Each aspect of my life is intoxicating in some way, shape, or form but right now my mind is focused on one thing: CHBK. I will be stepping into the ring with him for the very first time since I signed on the dotted line. I cannot put into words or thoughts about how I feel about the match. Even the promo I am going to cut will not fully address my thoughts and feelings on the matter. I draw in a deep breath and hold it for a few moments, before slowly exhaling as I lean forward and start the camera.

“Things didn’t go according to plan at Final Level, but hey I’ve got bigger fish to fry. If Gable and Autumn want to put those titles on the line then by all means, I have no issue in meeting them in the ring and righting the wrong that occurred at the pay per view. In the meantime however, I am looking at what is ahead of me.”

“I have been placed in the Shot of Adrenaline tournament. I missed out on this last year because I told the SCW to go fuck itself. And I have bitched about the SCW not providing me with opportunity, it seems that they are slowly realizing the error of their ways. While I am still not getting a chance to compete for the World title which I think is absolute bullshit, I still received a shot at the tag titles. I am now getting to fight towards a shot at the Adrenaline Championship that my “tag partner” Jake Starr has a hard on for. I am sure he and I will cross paths at some point and when we do, I will show him that I have his number and that I am taking him out.”

“But before I get too ahead of myself, the only person I plan on taking out right now is the man that has been labeled as the show stopper, the heartbreaker, and the main event around here in terms of the SCW. That’s right, I have my sights set on the legendary CHBK. And I can come out and say that the man is a living legend, because he is. There is no way to deny that. He has been doing this a long, long time. He is the very epitome of Supreme Championship Wrestling. And we can get the obvious out of the way. The man is old, but you see…everyone else that he faces typically picks at that. They say that he is old. They say he can’t really go anymore. But you see the thing about that is the fact that the man has shown he can keep up with the very best in this company. Saturday night, he is going to show that he can keep up with me.”

“You see, Alex, you are old, but you have the ability to captivate the world and you have proven you are still a force to be reckoned with. I am sure you want to do just that in the tournament. That is fine and dandy. But you see, that is where things can get a little sticky. You are meeting me in the first round and you’ve already raised my ire because you’ve been running your mouth about me earlier this week. That’s fine too, Alex. I can appreciate things like that, where people actually cut promos for their matches and trash talk their opponents. It doesn’t happen nearly as often as it used to, like it did back in your so called heyday. What I can’t appreciate Alex is that you claimed your match against Tommy Griffin was a warm up for your match with me. In a way, that is just insulting. I mean, I bested that guy fucking weeks ago. Yeah I dropped the overgrown baboon and left him lying in the middle of the ring. And that is exactly what I am going to do to you.”

I smirk into the camera as images of the “great” CHBK appear in my mind. I see him competing against Brent Randall in the Elimination Chamber back in 2004. I see him facing Phoenix in a Hell in A Cell match back in early 2005 for the SCW World Championship. I see him making Xander Valentine submit for the first time in the so called monster’s career. And then I see myself standing in the opposite corner, staring down at him, focused on the task at hand and the smirk on my face fades, as I continue to speak.

“You see, I am not going to talk about ending your career. Too many fuckers in the back have come out and stated that. I am not like them. I have come to realize that your career will end whenever you choose for it to or whenever Alzheimer’s kicks in. I don’t want to end your career, Alex. I would love nothing more than to meet you in the ring a few more times, outside of the Shot of Adrenaline tournament because to me, facing you is bigger than any tournament or any championship match.”

“The way I see it Alex is that I have to beat you, not the other way around. People, including yourself, can sit back and say that you’re past your prime. If that were the case then you wouldn’t be able to go in the ring like you do. You’re still in your prime and I know that you can somehow pull off the victory, stealing it from me and leaving me broken-hearted in the center of the ring. I know that there is a chance of that, but I refuse to let that happen. You’re too smart to take the fact that I’ve been praising you so far to heart. You’d be a fool to do so. I have watched you compete for a long time, even when I was just a fan, so I have a pretty good grasp on what you’re capable of in between those ropes and even backstage. To say that I have you figured out, however would make me an even bigger fool.”

“As I said earlier, you’ve done this a long, long time. You know all the tricks. You know every nook and cranny when it comes to being an elite professional wrestler. You know you have to hurt people and stab others in the back to get anywhere in this game, especially in the SCW. And I bad mouth the SCW. You can bring that up all you wish. You can talk about how I never get anything because I am never around long enough to work for it. You can say that but deep down you know there is no truth in it. It is easy for you to make claims like that when you’ve always had the spotlight upon you, no matter where you are on the card. That is why I have to beat you. You are the SCW and the SCW is you, when you take a step back and look at it all. You are the epitome of everything that I cannot stand and everything that I have chosen to fight against. I don’t have to end your career, Alex. I just have to destroy you each and every time we lock horns. If this is the first and only time, then I am going to make every single shot I land, every single move I drop your ass with…I am going to make it all count, as we steal the show at Supreme Saturday. This is a match that has never been seen before and it may never happen again. Drinking that scotch as much as you do may result in liver failure, so do me a favor and stay healthy for this match. I want the opportunity to beat you down, because the way I see it, I will be beating down the SCW.”

“For every move I land, that will shake the foundations. When I take your legs and break them, the SCW will to its knees for me. When I drive my fist into your skull, with the knuckle cracking the skin and meeting more bone, the SCW will start to stagger, and when I drop you with whatever move I wish and get the three count, the SCW and its fan base will fall with you. I will have my hand raised and I will know the feeling of victory. The image of me standing above you, the fallen legend, the fallen hero will rest into the minds of everyone watching. It will be an image that will rest in mine as I will know that I defeated the SCW’s golden standard in you Alex. That will be how I am going to see it. To everyone else it will simply be...”

I form a sad face before speaking once more.


I smirk into the camera one last time, before leaning forward and pressing stop, cutting the feed to black. I lean back in my seat and I release a sigh, as I think of how important it will be to defeat CHBK, not only for the Shot of Adrenaline tournament but for my legacy as well. Sure there are other competitors on the SCW roster that I could hold a victory over and it could further cement my place as one of the all-time greats in this business, but when you really think about it, there is only one CHBK. I tell myself that I have to back up my words, that I have to make everything count. There can’t be any mistakes. There cannot. There will not.