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Steven Kessler · **10-15-2014, 09:34 PM**

Kessler: “I’ll be honest; up until I saw Justin Sane’s recent promo, I didn’t get the pun behind his name. He’s just insane, right? Isn’t that just so unique and edgy, especially in the XWF?”

Steven Kessler is sitting in a large public park, somewhere in Detroit. Despite the surrounding urban sprawl, despite the looming decay, despite the odds, it has somehow survived as green and as vibrant as ever. Maybe that was the reason why Kessler found himself drawn here, because to him it seemed familiar. He understood what it was like to fight; he understood the battle that nature had fought to thrive in this harsh, uninviting environment. This place knew the stench of survival and somehow that comforted him. Maybe he had come here to relax and unwind.

Mostly, however, he had come here to play chess.

Sitting on a large, stone stool, Steven Kessler is facing his opponent, an elderly man pushing sixty, dressed in a pale blue shirt and khakis. He is kind enough to ignore the camera pointed at the face of his well-dressed, muscled opponent. He moves a pawn across the board towards Kessler.

Neither man has spoken to each other thus far during the game and it suited each of them just fine. Kessler’s opponent doesn’t even seem to mind that he’s facing away from him and towards the camera as he moves, seemingly paying no attention at all to the game.

Kessler: “At least that’s the impression I got from the couple of minutes I actually paid attention to what was happening on-screen. I don’t want anybody to get the wrong idea here, I mean I really tried to watch the whole thing but as soon as he opened his mouth I just got the biggest urge to take a gigantic piss. It was strange… I was finally getting to see the first words from someone on the team opposing my own at War Games. It’s like… I knew I should be watching, I knew I should be focusing and paying attention, yet somehow all I could think about was the sudden swelling in my bladder, like my own animal instincts were telling me that this was the optimal time of the day to go and urinate, because I wasn’t really going to miss anything.”

The elder man moves his rook forwards, taking one of Kessler’s pawns. Kessler moves his queen forward and takes the rook in retaliation.

Kessler: “So I come back from taking a leak, and I guess I should probably sit down and focus on my opponents, focus on my upcoming match, right? I mean, not only am I main-eventing a pay-per-view in my second-ever XWF match, I’m in a team taking on the reigning Universal Champion. I should really be focusing on what exactly Justin Sane has to say, you know? And I really did try. I listen in, I turn up the volume and I stare directly at the television screen. I probably would’ve been fine then, but Justin started talking and I tuned out when I noticed something in the background. He was walking in to his doctor’s appointment and there were flowers everywhere, and this was this one particular flower that just stood out to me. It was kind of amazing actually, because I’d never seen a flower like it before. It was a sort of pale yellow-violet, shaped a little bit like a bell. And Justin just kept on talking and talking, and before I knew it he was yelling at his doctor, but all I can do is watch that flower and try to figure out what the fuck it is. I mean, WHAT IS THIS FLOWER? I must have been losing my mind!

Finally, I realized that there was no way I was going to care about Justin Sane or what he had to say until I had identified that flower, so I whipped out my smartphone and Wikipedia’d that shit. Turns out it’s called a Lady’s Slipper Orchid, and it can be found across most of the entire northern hemisphere.”

Kesser loses his queen to a knight and scowls deeply. After several moments of consideration he moves a pawn and nods at his opponent, acknowledging the “check”.

Kessler: “So now I’m centred. My bladder is empty and I’ve identified the mystery flower. I can finally sit down and start to prepare a strategy for taking on Team Eli at War Games. I prepare myself to listen to what Justin has to say, and now he’s ranting about how nobody takes him seriously, and how he hears voices in his head, and some shit about the dreams he’s been having and before long I realize that I’ve stopped hearing his voice again. This really troubles me, ya know? I turned the volume up, I’m feeling refreshed and my bladder is empty, I’ve identified my mystery flower and I don’t need to eat or drink… why on earth can’t I pay attention to what one of my opponents is saying? And then it hits me, like Justin Sane taking a Big Hit right to the centre of his over-enlarged forehead.

It’s because what he’s saying is MINDLESS FUCKING DRIVEL.”

He shoves a piece forward, taking a bishop with his knight. His opponent rubs his chin for a moment before sliding his queen forwards and putting Kessler in check. Kessler moves his king to the side, getting himself out of the precarious situation.

Kessler: “I realized I couldn’t possibly pay attention to what Justin Sane was saying, because try as I might my brain and my attention span have a natural aversion to anything that is completely irrelevant to and beyond the societal standard of stupidity. I’m afraid it’s not just Sane that has this effect on me; the entirely of Team Eli, from their neck bearded, basement-dwelling leader, to that paper champion Evertrust, to Ghost Tank with his

strength, to… fuck, Tyroil? Really? If I wanted to see somebody threaten a casual bystander or victimise a random member of society I’d check out any of the dozen other guys in the XWF with the same schtick before I bothered to watch another Justin Sane promo. It’s been done, Justin, a thousand times over. And to be honest, you don’t quite sell me on the “insane” persona. You’re just a guy who forgot to take his meds this morning to forget about the fucking shitstain of a life he somehow created for himself.”

His opponent’s queen takes Kessler’s last rook. Kessler isn’t worried though, and he advances his bishop to take his opponents queen. Both queens, arguably the most powerful pieces on the board, have been removed from play.

Kessler: “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to short change any member of Team Eli on their athletic ability, or their accomplishments as wrestlers. I’m sure, if I’d become a doctor or a lawyer or a personal trainer and never ever considered wrestling as a career they might even stand a chance of one day being known as “the best”. But the fact of the matter is I DID enter the wrestling business, and after War Games when I sit at the top of the peak as Number One, each member of Team Eli will have to squabble and fight amongst themselves to claim the Number Two spot. So to hear your potential understudy, a man who COULD be Number Two if I ever happen to die or end up in a coma or something talking about his bad dreams, is not only difficult to endure, it’s something that my mind just isn’t willing to compute.”

The older man slides his rook sideways, taking the last of Kessler’s power pieces. Although he only has six pawns left, he does not appear to be worried.

Kessler: “But regardless of what my brain was trying to tell me, and despite all my natural instincts, I forced myself to go ahead and watch the entirety of Justin Sane’s little promo, and it turned out to be for the best! You see, after a little while it turned into what I thought were the comedic stylings of a man who appeared to be funny as hell. You see, he began to run down each member of Team Erebus, and he was telling these awesome jokes about how I’ll be speaking my promos through splintered teeth and busted gums and for about three minutes I was losing my mind so hard. I had goddamn tears running down my face, I was holding my gut, it was so good.

Then it hit me.

This man was dead serious. He truly believed that he stood a chance to make an impact in the War Games match, and that Team Eli stood a chance of victory against Team Erebus. He honestly believes that whatever almighty being crafted him into the man he is today and decreed that he be a professional wrestler has determined that he comes out on top next week. I mean, sure, I may have been tossed over the top rope by Ghost Tank last week, but where the fuck was Justin Sane? Was he even on television? All of a sudden, it stopped being funny. For a full three seconds I sat there, no laughter, no breath, no words.

And then I started laughing again, I guffawed, I chuckled, I chortled, and I did a million other things that are classified as laughing because at that moment Justin Sane ceased to be funny and became fucking HILARIOUS. I couldn’t believe my ears, and between gut wrenching laughter and wiping the tears from my face I began to think about how much I truly hate each member of Team Eli.”

Kessler advances a pawn forward, taking one of his opponents. He grins when he notices an opening that his opponent has neglected.

Kessler: “And do you know why I hate each one of these men? Because I look at them and see nothing but a pale reflection of myself in their eyes. Each man will strive for the greatness I know I will achieve, yet each one will fall short because they lack the drive and the passion that I have. I don’t think I’m going to be on the winning War Games team, I know I’m going to be on the winning War Games team. I’m not going to believe in some divine bullshit that dictates that I was always supposed to be successful, because I know that I have fought and clawed and scraped and torn my way through legions of wrestlers who have more talent than any member of Team Eli to get here, and I’ve done it with every breath in my body and with every ounce of talent that I have. There is no doubt in my mind that I have earned the right to be here, and to see these shitstains try to take that away from me just about makes my blood boil."

Both men are down to their last pieces. The older man’s king is now trapped in the corner. The game is almost over.

Kessler: “I’m going to lay it out for you now Justin, and this is advice that each member of Team Eli can take to heart and really, truly absorb. Ten of us are going to walk into those rings at War Games, and only one team can be named the victor. Once you’re between those ropes and inside that cage, there isn’t any force in this world that can protect you. You have the choice to accept that Team Erebus is going to beat you from pillar to post, or you can choose the futile option and try to achieve some kind of meagre victory that, personally, I don’t think any of you are capable of. Make any threat you want to. Cut any promo you feel like. It isn’t going to fucking matter. I am going to leave War Games as a member of the victorious team, and I’m going to do it because I’m the single most talented competitor in the entire company.”

Kessler advances his last piece into position, having locked the king in the corner. Both men lock eyes and nod.

Kessler: “Checkmate.”

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