Post by The Madness Menagerie on Feb 11, 2021 16:52:11 GMT -5
Blue Pit BBQ & Whiskey Bar Baltimore, MD
As excited as Seb was to see his friends, he was more nervous about being judged for leaving his title at his apartment. As much as he wanted the recognition as being a Carnage champion, he was still nervous about it making him a target for the public eye. Right now, he just wanted an honest conversation and to relax with his new-found family.
Messaging the address to Silvio and Ax, Sebastian arrived at the restaurant early, his title in its case, safely in the backseat of his rental. For what felt like the hundredth time in sixty short seconds, the Chaos Champion looks back at his car, wondering if he shouldn’t grab his belt. Why not show it off?
The jingle of dog tags signaled the approach of Sebastian’s friends; down the sidewalk, Axton and Silvio were walking alongside each other, the musician’s pair of Aussie shepherds walking on a double leash a few feet ahead. Both pups were wearing olive green coats, their tongues lolling happily as they enjoyed the cool outdoor air. Axton holds up a hand in greeting, which quickly takes the shape of the horns as he shouts ahead.
“Hey, champ! What’s up!!”
Silvio beams as he lays eyes on Seb, the Oracle dressed in a red down jacket, jeans, scarf, and black boots to fend off the wintry chill. “Congrats again, dude! Lemme know if you want a celebratory tattoo to commemorate the occasion.”
Sebastian’s eyes light up at the thought but cloud over almost instantly, “I… Have no idea what I’d even get, but would love my first tattoo to be in celebration of this.” He goes to show off his belt but then remembers his debate from earlier before, “Well, it was supposed to be my belt, but I left it in the car. Wasn’t sure how much attention I wanted to draw to us right now. Kind of wanted to have a private conversation, ya know? And check it, fenced-in patio for privacy and doggos! I’ll go let people know we’re here if you want to get us a table?”
“Yeah sure,” Axton answered, grinning briefly down at his dogs and back up to the two men with him. “Promise not to feed them any table scraps, ok? I brought them their own food, so hopefully, that’ll keep them busy.”
“They’ll try to convince you otherwise, but do not be swayed by their giant eyes and adorable smiles,” Silvio warns, going with Axton to find a table.
Sebastian smiles after then and heads inside, only to be told that a waitress would be with them shortly. Ensuring he was snug in his coat he goes to join the others and instantly gets pulled into the vortex of puppy dog eyes, "I don't know if I can resist your advances… But I'm going to try…" With great resolve, Seb manages to tear his eyes away from the dogs and back to his companions, "So I guess now would be the time I tell you why I asked you guys here? You know, outside of doing something fun together, the reviews on this place were great from what I read." He hesitates slightly, "And it's good to get away from the arena now and again…"
Axton finished tying Huey and Irwin at the edge of the table, giving each of them a thorough ear rub as he replied. “Yeah, for sure. All work and no play and all that shit.” Sitting up, he propped his elbows on the table, chin in his hands with a curious expression. “Yeah, so what’s up Sebby? We’re super charming and fun to be around obvi, but you must’ve had something on your mind.”
“Yeah… I did, I DO…” He pauses for a moment, his face blushing suddenly as he averts his eyes embarrassed, “It’s just… All this talk about not having to deal with the stuff at the arena and I’m about to ask advice about… Well… How to be a champion? Like, I was a champion back in the indies but I was a champion in a way that I was 'Godly' Ken, the diet version. Nose up high and looking down from the heavens which don’t happen very often. I don’t want to be that person again, I want to be a champion that makes people proud to look up to instead of just ‘proud.’ Ya know?”
Silvio’s brows rise in surprise, but he nods, giving Seb a little smile. “That’s a really admirable thing to aim for,” he comments. “And I guess I’m still sort of figuring that out for myself. But, for me? I think it means helping out the company as a whole. Trying to be there to promote our talent and help others reach their goals within the company. I got to where I want to be; how do I help others do the same?”
Axton’s brow is knit with thought as he listens to Silvio, his cheek resting in his hand. He bites his lower lip, taking a breath. “... I mean… for me, any marked achievement has always been about proving wrong to the people who said I couldn’t do it. Like, sticking it to them, I guess. So with Jon, I feel like… we’re champions to prove that no matter how many people tell you ‘no’, the only person who needs to say ‘yes’ is you. And you get yourself there because you got it in yourself to do it. And you owe it to yourself to be happy. And then you end up leading by that example, so people who look up to you aren’t afraid to reach just as high.”
Silvio grins. “Ax and I share the same five words, to sum up a lot of what motivates us in life.” Clearing his throat, he says, “‘Oh, yeah? Fucking watch me.’”
Axton leans over and delivers to Silvio a clean hi-five. Sebastian can’t help but smile as he ponders exactly what Silvio and Ax had shared with him. Arrogance was a slippery slope and Seb had always been susceptible to taking that one wrong misstep to send him down that path. He tried it when he came into Carnage and he got a beating because of it. Now, all that interested him was elevating the title he had now that he had earned one. The feeling of Sebastian having earned the Chaos Title flows through him and he smiles down at his hands, remembering where he had nestled his belt safe and secure.
“Yeah, I see what you’re both saying but now I guess the question is how to elevate the Chaos Title to the level that the Baltimore Title is seen. I remember Mac vacating the title and that tournament that Adrienne eventually won to capture the BCC. No one was talking about that title until she held it and she stood up to Ken’s poison he was spitting and threw it… No, she side-stepped it and hit him with that… I don’t know how to put it, Adrienne just had a certain way with words when it came to egos like that and it was fun to watch. It made the BCC a talking point. I look at the Chaos Title and I see a belt that needs the same treatment but a different story. I want to be that champion that elevates it, but I don’t know how. It’s not like I can hold an open challenge for the thing since the opponents are figured out weekly.”
“That’s an answer you’re going to have to figure out for yourself,” Silvio tells Seb. “At the risk of sounding corny, the only way that you’re going to find something sustainable is by finding it in yourself and figuring out how to express it to the world. Ade was an expert in looking at people presenting a tough front and pointing out how it was bullshit. She held people accountable, and not a lot of folks in this industry are used to that.” He shrugs. “Listen, I might be the World Champ and I don’t take that lightly, but you’re the champion for the everyday. You’re the working-class champion. Show them that putting in the hours means something.”
Seb nods, “Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping to do. I just don’t want to become that guy again. The one that people saw when I first got here. Remnants of the attitude I had developed carrying around a backyard title. I honestly believed that I was on top of the world, there were no more hills to climb. Then Carnage knocked and I ran here thinking that that same arrogance and self-assuredness would get me to the same places I thought I already was at. Turns out, all it gets you is one hell of a beating and a lesson in humility I’ll never forget.”
The Chaos Champion falls silent as the waitress comes to take their order. Having already asked for privacy, the waitress did her best to contain her squeals of delight at seeing who she was serving today. After she leaves, Sebastian sighs, “This Casanova dude sounds like another one of those ‘Diet’ Ken Davison types. Full of himself after a couple of wins in the ring. Like, I get cocky after beating that gamer guy, but the dude seems to be proud of himself for beating up a guy who hasn’t been able to win his first match. Just wish I could have had a chance to let Adrienne get to know the real me, maybe get her advice on everything. I appreciate everything though guys!”
Axton finishes emptying a couple of pouches of wet food into travel bowls for the pups, scratching his neck as he sits up. “If I were you, I’d think more about playing to your strengths and making the Chaos belt represent them, rather than trying to change yourself to fit the mold. As long as you have it, dude, the Chaos belt reps your best qualities. Think about what you rode on to get it. You’re an optimist, you worked your ass off to get where you are, and you always give people the benefit of the doubt and see the best in them. The belt’s a clean plate. You decide what you wanna serve.”
Coincidentally, their food arrives right at that very moment and Sebastian’s stomach growls with anticipation, “Well, right now all I can be certain of is how much I want to serve this sandwich into my mouth.”
Silvio takes his food with a smile before sparing a glance at Seb.
“So...how’s Frankie doing?”
Sebastian’s eyes grow wide as he chews, thoroughly satisfied with his choice of a BBQ sandwich. He chokes at the question slightly but smiles nonetheless, “He’s doing good. They kept him in the hospital for observation after his, uhm, attack? I guess that’s what they call it. His dad explained it to me, but he has had Lupus since birth. It’s been an ongoing thing he’s dealt with throughout his life.”
Silvio nods, stirring his sweet tea with a straw.
“I kinda figured something more serious was going on, what with the Make-A-Wish talk. I’m glad he’s okay.”
Sebastian nods as he takes a drink, “Yeah, he’s going to be at 106, said he didn’t want to miss it for the world. Eventually, I want to do something special for him, but I doubt the boss man is feeling charitable. Probably going to have to raise some money on my own…”
Silvio raises a brow. “Yeah?” he says. “Did you have something specific in mind? I’d be happy to help out if I can.”
Sebastian nods, “Yeah, I’d appreciate any help since as usual, I have no idea what I’m doing. Feels right to champion a cause so any suggestions and help would be appreciated!”
“How much do you need?” Axton asks, pulling his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “I can get you started. Just something to get off the ground--let you handle the rest. I can at least get you set up with a local charity.”
Sebastian blinks at the wallet and smiles, “I… How about I do some research and then let you know? I have no idea how much I’d need to start something up. Raising money for a foundation or something sounds like a good start, maybe I can just donate some of my paycheck or something? I have no clue. If you have any contacts though, maybe we can go ask around together and figure this out?”
“Totally, dude.” Axton puts his wallet away--for now--with a little grin. “Consider me on call.”
Sebastian grins and holds a fist out for a bump, which Ax is only too happy to give, “Dude, you have no idea how much I appreciate that! No idea what we’ll come up with, but I’m excited to be fighting for something, ya know? Starting with Cas, the world is going to see just how serious I am about taking the Chaos Title to the next level.”
Just then a figure walks up behind the boys and stops suddenly at their tableside. Sebastian looks up and nearly jumps out of his skin as Adrienne Levi stands there, her stance awkwardly shifted to and fro, “Hello!”
Carnage’s newly crowned Chaos Champion.
Single, ready to mingle.
As the sun sets, signaling another day in Baltimore, Maryland Sebastian stands in front of the 178ft tall Washington Monument, his duster blowing in the chill wind and ruffling out behind him. The Chaos Championship’s metallic plates catch the neon lights meant for the monument and provide a short light show. The newest champion that Carnage has to boast smiles into the camera as he claps his hands together.
“Well, to say that I’m surprised would be a MASSIVE understatement. Who would have thought that in the time that I’ve been in Carnage, I would have captured my first singles title this quickly? Honestly, I felt that I was going to stay at the bottom of the heap until I finally felt that I deserved a spot up at the top. Granted, this isn’t the World Title but I can say with some certainty, I’m not ready for something that big to hang on my shoulders. This?” He takes off the belt and throws it over his shoulder, the faceplate glittering in the multi-colored light, “This fits just perfect. Kind of like how it took Goldilocks a couple of different attempts to figure out exactly what she liked in a house that wasn’t even hers; I figured out that I wasn’t meant to be a young hothead that needed a lesson taught to them, the hard way. Maybe the tag team belts aren’t something I’m ready for right now either, but then we come to the Baltimore and Chaos titles. A title already elevated into relevance by Adrienne Levi and a title that is in danger of falling into obscurity.”
He looks briefly at his belt and sighs, then back at the camera, “Well, rest assured Chaos Championship fans, I’m here now and I refuse to let that happen. It took me a little bit of time soul searching, holding this belt in my hands after a hard-fought match and an amazingly timed superkick, staring and wondering exactly what this meant for my future. Ladies and gentlemen, I’m not going anywhere, I have found my purpose and THAT is to elevate this strap into the same limelight as the Baltimore Championship, the Ultraviolent Championship, and hell, graduate from sitting at the kid’s table and be held in the same regard as the World Championship. THAT is my pledge to you Carnage. Sebastian Hawke has come to play this championship game and I’ve already made it to the first level of success. A level I’m going to stay on and continue to defend until…?”
He shrugs, “I lose. It’s inevitable and I’d be super thick in the head if I didn’t acknowledge this fact. One day I will lose this title. To do that though, a person will have to come to me, face me in the ring, and beat a guy that’s only lost three total matches, has only been pinned twice in my Carnage career. Sure, it doesn’t sound impressive but every champion starts somewhere right? I lost to Mitch Heart. I watched my tag team partner Dom get pinned by Silvio. I fell off a ladder as I watched Jon and Ax win the tag team titles. Do you want to know something though? I looked damn good doing every one of those things. I wouldn’t have it any other way because if it wasn’t me holding this Chaos title, then what? We all get to sit back and watch as it falls into obscurity and people forget that Carnage even had a fifth title.”
Sebastian pauses and paces lightly back and forth before stopping and taking a look up at the monument behind him, taking in the sight and letting himself feel so small. Looking back at the camera, he smiles, confidence dripping from every word, “So, that brings me to my match at Chaos 106. Casanova? Let’s talk.”
He pauses for the briefest of seconds as he paces in front of the monument behind him.
“We stand at the Washington Monument, a structure built to celebrate the first president and is the center of SO many fun conspiracy theories. One such theory states that the Declaration of Independence, the original document is buried somewhere underneath where I stand now. I could go on, but we came here to give the devil his due and talk about Casanova English right?”
The Chaos Champion shakes his head briefly,
“A guy that has been here for two matches, earned a shot at an entry-level belt that I’ll get to in a moment, and thinks he’s the top dog. Sounds like a guy I used to know, ME. I came into Carnage looking to impress and thought my mere presence in the ring should earn top dollar. I was wrong in my assessment but while I learned a big lesson in humility the hard way, I can’t stop and NOT make that comparison. Just like me Cas, the arrogance will only carry you so far before you fly too close to the sun. Your ego is getting too big and I’d be willing to bet that just like the structure behind me, you only offer the grandiose personality to compensate for the secrets that you hide. Maybe your favorite color is pink, which isn't that big of a deal. Bro, it’s 2021, I like pink. If I were to take an educated stab though, I’d say all the posturing is to hide the insecurities. The fear that you don’t think that you’ll make it in this business. I get it, dude, I was there too.”
Taking a moment to look around and appreciate the monument, Seb notices people gathering around to watch him. Smirking, he turns back to the camera and addresses the lens.
“Success is measured in different ways Cas. Powerful people get to the top using whatever methods work for them until they stop working. A legend only becomes a legend based on the stories told. If a person wants their legacy tested, they turn to the storytellers and Cas, The Legion? THEY are our storytellers. The people that go out and retell everything that happened in that ring. This isn't about popularity points, this is about being the person that stands triumphant and having their story shouted from mountain tops.
Sebastian pauses as he stops to think before continuing,
"This match marks my very first match as Carnage’s Chaos Champion. Carnage's 'workhorse' title. A title that sees the champions show up EVERY week, defend what is theirs, and continue being Chaos Champion. It’s not something where I feel that I can just sit at home and collect a paycheck. This title has wallowed in obscurity up until now and I can feel that Cas. I FEEL how badly this title wants to be recognized in the same sentence as the Baltimore Title or the Tag Team titles. I’m the man that’s going to take it there and what that means for you, Casanova English, is despite your misguided attempts to predict my future neck pains, and no matter how much you want to deny it, I AM the face of this division in 2021. I AM the future of this company or at least a part of the machine that is working to make Carnage THE place to be, and I promise you, I VOW, that I will walk out of Chaos 106 as champion, just as how I walked out.”
The Legion that has gathered around Sebastian cheer and the Chaos Champion jumps as he notices the crowd. Smirking again, he just shakes his head, “See Cas? What some view as an annoyance, I view as a blessing, a silver lining to this dirty business. Legends are made in that ring when we step inside of it. Stories unfold and the heroes for a new age are forged alongside their arch-enemy counterparts. Battles are fought and epic moments had all for the enjoyment of the Chaos Legion, the people that as champion I fight for. After I’m finished talking to you Cas, all these people that have gathered to witness Sebastian Hawke, Chaos Champion, and legend in the making…!!” He pauses as The Legion cheers and raises his belt up high above his head. Lowering it only when the crowd settles he once again smirks in at the camera, “Talk to a guy whose ego demands it, I am going to treat them to an impromptu autograph, selfie, whatever event, right here and right now… What you need to realize though Cas is that people have gone down in history for building cities with nothing more than the music in their hearts and rock and roll for their ears. I'm going to build my legacy on this championship and I'm sorry if your fragile ego can't hear this, but you're nothing more than the first rung on my ladder to the stars. See you soon.”
Sebastian winks at the camera before he turns as the crowd surges forward. The last scene of Sebastian giving a boy, no older than five a fist bump and taking a punch in the jaw from him, much to the delight of the crowd around him and the camera phones snapping pictures.
Post by Casanova English on Feb 13, 2021 18:49:06 GMT -5
Carnage Wrestling Presents
A Casanova English Original
Murder filled the sky.
A flock of crows over head -- enduring the chilly winter air.
Intelligent animals with a bad reap for creating too much noise. Watch intersections --- observing the human species -- timing it perfect to drop a walnut to be cracked by the wheels of speeding cars before snatching it up again in the split second between yellow and green.
I heard a story about a little girl. She’d leave food out for the crows and in return they started to retrieve shiny objects and gifts for her approval.
Sometimes I worry I share too much characteristics with the crow -- the omen of death.
Some would think it’s no match for a hawk -- the humble crow -- but at Chaos I’ll make it known -- the symbol of death makes a fool of us all.
I stepped off the back deck back into the living room of my apartment. Ransom was sitting on the couch sipping on a freshly cracked can of Budweiser. After the years of sobriety he finally got to the point where he could have a few drinks and not spiral down a heroin relapse the next second.
He deserved it.
Since I told him he wouldn’t be coming to the ring with me for now, the training has been more intense. I felt like my lungs were about to explode as he ran shoulders into my chest while I tired to escape a corner turnbuckle. Still… I worried it wouldn’t mimic what I’d be up against at Chaos, the speed and flight of this kid they call Hawke.
“So, what about Voodoo?,” Ransom asked.
She was the only other person we took to Baltimore from the wrestling school in Canada that unfortunately burnt down… It took me a little while longer to get her visa worked out so she could come to the US. The risk of traveling with us was far too high anyway given the smoke damage to her lungs.
“In due time we will all be together in the ring Ransom. You two just aren’t ready yet, maybe the world isn’t ready for the reincarnation of The Orphanage.”
Ransom was getting tired of hearing that excuse, and with these strange videos airing of a man asking people to hold up their left hand in loyalty…. We may be losing ground in the cult revolution schtick.
“We should at least get her in for a few training sessions with you. Get you used to being in the ring with smaller opponents.”
He doesn’t realize I wanted them more as an entourage than anything, maybe he does and is still trying to work his way between the ropes. I need to make it clear I run this crew. I need to assert my authority again and that opportunity comes with Hawke this week. The chance to solidify my legacy here in Carnage with gold.
“I think you would be surprised how she could help you… let’s just say Voodoo isn’t just a name,” Ransom smirks and gulps his beer.
Slowly, he pulls a disgusting clump of hair from his pocket and dangles it near me.
I step back gagging.
“Man, what in the fuck is that.”
“Trust me,” he said, balling the hair clump up in his fist and shoving it back into his pocket.
“Let’s go see her in the morning.”
Ransom just sipped his beer smirking as I stared at him puzzled as to why he was hoarding some unknown hair.
Voodoo’s apartment was down a long alleyway, it was a simple steal door and Ransom knocked exactly six times before she swung the door open and she let us in.
“Welcome,” she said, gesturing to her home -- only lit by candles -- it complemented the tone of her caramel skin. Her dreadlocks floated as she walked down the hallway to her living room.
Skulls were affixed to the walls, shrunken heads hanging from the ceiling, tarot cards scattered on the coffee table along with three cups of tea for the three of us.
“I’m not going to lie, he is going to be skeptical, but I told him it’s much more than a fucking gimmick,” Ransom said winking at her.
“Ah, they are all skeptical until Voodoo works her magic. Come. Sit,” she said pointing to two rocking chairs facing a small light orange loveseat.
Smoldering incense smoke covered the whole apartment with a light fragrant haze.
“I’ve never been much of a um… spiritual man,” I said looking around the room at what I believe to be novelties.
“Oh, making a believer out of you is the least I can do for the man who saved my life.”
I may have dragged her from the burning building, but Ransom and I may have also omitted the detail that I also started the fire simply to prove a point and get him on with his life.
“Do you have it?” she asked Ransom.
“Yeah,” he stuffed his hand into his pocket and pulled out the clump of hair.
“Alright, whose hair is this?”
“Sebastian Hawke,” Ransom said laughing. “I snuck into the arena the other night… guys got so much of this shit it wasn’t terribly hard to collect.”
“That’s some weird stalker shit.”
Ransom shrugged as if he was just doing what he had to do and transferred the hair to V who pulled up a small voodoo doll and some pins. She slowly pinned the clump of hair to the top of the head of the tiny white fabric doll.
“What are you doing?”
“She’s trying to have an affect on the match Cass. Trust me, it has worked before. I have seen it, it’s what made her so proficient in the ring.”
V snatched the doll up and looked in its button eyes. It was surreal. This was the kind of crap Ransom was getting lost in while I was absent. He found a new religion -- some affinity for morbid magic.
Slowly she rolled her eyes in the back of her head so that all Ransom and I could see was white. She started chanting in some strange tongue I couldn’t understand. Then she would lift the doll with my opponents hair stuck to it far above her own head and….
She’d slam it down has hard as he could, spinning it 180 degrees on the way so the doll landed directly on the top of its head. She dit it over and over.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Slamming so hard the candle in the centre of the table flickers periodically -- almost going out on occasion.
“What the fuck is this crap man?”
“Look Cass, I didn’t think you’d be so against this. I mean it’s just visualization. You said it on Twitter you want that idiot Hawke to land on his neck. So this is her visualizing it, trying to make it a reality. Trying to put it out into the universe.”
I close my eyes. I buy into the shit. I needed it. Again I was up against someone dedicate to honing their craft. Someone who is at the top of their game after winning the Chaos Championship at the last Carnage event.
Hell -- what would it hurt? Hopefully Hawke.
I toned out V’s chanting and walked through the match in my head, hitting the ropes, chopping his chest, slamming him on the mat, him battling back, heading to the top rope. I kick the ropes at the last second send him tripping from the top rope. Hawke falls. Speeds like a torpedo into the ground right atop his crown. I life him up --- well -- we all know what happened next. What happened last week and the week before that. I leave him in choked out. Unconscious. Covered in drool, maybe blood… hopefully piss.
V stops chanting abruptly. She puts the doll down on the table. It’s silent. Sweat trickles down her forehead. Her eyes snap open and she’s gasping for air.
“I think it worked,” Ransom said.
I wasn’t sure what to think -- but I’ll take any chance to give myself an upper-hand.
Ever feel like you are being watched. I looked over my shoulder sliding the key into my apartment door.
Crows. All lined along the power line. It felt like each and everyone of them had their beady little eyes fixed on me.
I shut the door behind myself quickly. I finally got the apartment set up the way I want. A single brick wall was at the back of the living room a red leather couch in front of it. I slid my leather jacket off my shoulders and placed it on the coat rack. In the kitchen I grabbed the warm Wiser's Canadian whiskey from the cabinet and filled a crystal glass with ice half full. I added a bit of ginger ale to the top for flavour -- throw in a pre-sliced lime.
Back in the living room I flick on the already set-up camcorder and sit on the middle seat of the couch. I take a nice long sip off my whiskey and let out a satisfied sigh.
“It won’t be a question if you survive or give… I’ll have that whole crowd pleading ‘let that kid live.’”
I put my drink on the coffee table in front of me and slowly pulled a single cigarette from a pack of Marlboro Reds. I use it to point at the camera.
“It’s as simple as that Sebastian. It’s as simple as that, but please allow me to elaborate.”
I snug the cigarette in between my lips and keep talking mumbling slightly.
“See, the people like you are actually bad for society. Bad for this business. Bad for this world. You breed false hope. You birth nativity even. You want to write this cheesy little Disney story of defying your angry father and motivating the masses -- of becoming a role model and larger than life superstar and after all the hard work… oh.. you finally did it last week winning the Chaos Championship. It’s all too perfect isn’t it? All a bit too boring and happy.”
I pull a lighter up the tip of the cancer stick and ignite it. I blow three puffs of smoke toward the camera and pick up my drink with the same hand to take a sip.
“You make all these little boys and girls believe they can overcome. That they can too choose their own destiny… like there is no third world. Like there isn’t kids working in sweatshops knitting the logos into the sneakers you wear. You sell these Western kids a false positivity. You don’t talk about the reality of it all. The fact this industry was built on the back of steroids for generation after generation and no one single person in that audience care about the mental health repercussion because man Johnny could hit a fucking suplex. Hell, he smiles when he did it.”
“It’s part of the reason I have been leaving people unconscious in this ring. They need to be reminded this isn’t entertainment, this is a God damn bloodsport. Maybe if I leave a 22-year-old Sebastian Hawke paralyzed in the centre of this ring this sport will be seen in the brutal light it should be seen. I’ve been making statement after statement, Hawke. Last week Zach didn’t know what hit him.”
“I know what you are thinking. It can't happen this quick. It can’t end this abruptly. You just grasped destiny, became a champion in Carnage and there is no way you are going to let the new guy come in here and slaughter you like the lamb. You’ve got friends looking up to you, people you have made proud.”
“So maybe it isn’t only these fans that need a lesson that blind optimism doesn't mean a damn thing when a train is rolling down the tracks and your foot is stuck. It doesn’t matter how good of a person you think you are. It doesn’t matter that you wanted this more than anything. See I’m the reality in professional wrestling. I’m going to pluck that championship from you Hawke… but if I don’t there is something even worse I am going to take from you. Your spirit -- at least a part of it. And once you start losing a part of your pride, of your spirit… well that’s a degenerative disease. It doesn’t grow back quite the same way.”
“My goal isn’t to walk out Chaos Champion… I know Sebastian thinks that is unlikely. He’s worked so hard… if I plan to walk our champion I’ll have to leave him in the same state as my past opponents -- choking on their own saliva as they come to. I’m prepared to do that -- but just in case for one night you do end up being the better man Hawke. I plan on taking a part of you. I told you I would show you what a main event truly feels like. I’ll show this entire roster what the big match feeling truly is -- and no that’s not to say I am going to help you shine. It’s not that I respect you at all. That’s why I’ll keep kicking out. I’ll keep coming. Through the sweat. Through the blood. Through the pain.”
I take a few puffs off my cigarette and blow a big plume of smoke toward the camera. I take a minute to take another sip off my whiskey. I point once again at the camera with the burning ember while I talk.
“One of us is not walking out the same way… and me… well kiddo I’ve been to war before. I didn’t pop my first boner like you did when Carnage let them know they wanted to sign me… act like you have been here before for Christ sake. For a guy who held a championship for so long on the indy scene you’d think this is your first little league most improved trophy,” I said smirking, following the remark with a sip of whiskey.
“I know you don’t want to hear the bird puns, the flying jokes. But just like I told you earlier this week… Hawke is landing on his neck. I know, I know, you’ve said you have landed on your head many times before… as if I can’t tell the way you try and cut a promo.”
I take my half smoked cigarette and hold it up in the air -- ember point toward the ceiling.
“But all it takes is the right tweak, the right moment, the right vertebrae to shift for you to be wheelchair ridden and never in that ring again.”
I slowly move the cigarette down and flip it 180 just like V did with the doll.
“Careful what you put in writing… It might come back to haunt you.”
I crush the cigarette into the top of the coffee table -- compacting it slowly and twisting. I look up again letting my eyes meet the camera. I lean back and sip again. This time I point with one finger at the camera holding the crystal glass.
“Whether it is physical or mental Hawke I am clipping those wings. I am taking a part of you with me and I promise when we are done you’ll never be the same again. You’ll think about this match. It’ll keep you up at night. Even if you walk out the winner, you will always wonder what happened if this match lasted one second longer? Would my reign still be in tack? Would my career?”
“Hopefully you don’t have to find out. Hopefully you just accept your fate like the fallen ones before you. The Modern Day Messiah is writing a gospel -- the new Bible on wrestling.”
I finish the remainder of my drink and slam it down on the table -- hard and loud -- I lean in.
“I’m going to force you to tell a different story in that ring then the bubble gum bullshit you’ve been expecting these fans to chew on. If I walk out without the win I’m going to make you show them you have to scratch, claw, not give a goddamn inch. You have to fight and beat people better than you to have a chance at this world… but to be honest Hawke. I don’t think you have the creativity to expand that narrative.”
“This week if I don’t walk out Chaos Champion, I’ll at least leave no doubt in anyone's mind that I am a champion of Chaos. I hope you can live up the name sake too.”
I raise an eyebrow at my empty glass. I toss the ice around as if to say, ‘I need another.’
I get up and flick the camera off.
Another drink, another punch, another kick, another Divebomb.
It always takes more than one of everything to get me going.