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Chris Chaos · (04-16-2017)

No Rest For The Wicked

As Chris stood there with the ashes of the pictures at his feet, he felt as though a weight had been lifted. He felt as though he was free. Finally free. One final memory screamed through his head.

LATE APRIL, 2006

7:23 PM

The GMC truck screeched into the parking lot, slamming to a stop. Where they were set up was on the corner of Missouri and Gulf to Bay, by Jeff's Jeep Yard. They had followed the Saturn Ion all the way down to Clearwater, where it begins to meet Largo, and now had it cornered.

The sun was just finishing going down, but a little bit of twilight still remained in the air. The GMC's music cut, and it sat, deadly still. The Ion was trapped, with nowhere to go. The doors slowly opened.

Chris sat in the passenger seat of the GMC pickup, his last phone call running through his mind like a locomotive with slashed brakes.

"We need to have a talk about Nicole."

"Nicole will not be attending prom"

"Nicole has missed a period......I know what you two did...."

"Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole....Nicole...."

"SHUT UP!" Chris yelled, and everyone looked at him. "Sor--sorry" he said, "long day. Lets just, uh, do this."

The Ion's doors had opened and out stepped Ryan and Aiden Corrigan, Jason's two brothers. Slowy but surely, Jason stepped out from the back. The engine revved in th GMC, and the window rolled down. Out of the window aimed a 9mm Glock, pointed directly at Aiden's chest.

"You two....leave" said the gunman, making the go symbol with the gun. The two boys stood their ground. "Suit yourself." The engine revved and slammed forward, striking Aiden and knocking him back. All of the occupants of the GMC jumped out then. Jason began to run, but he was soon cut off. There were far too many. When the two brothers were incapacitated......the group turned it's attention on Jason.

"You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you?"

Jason continued to back up.

"You just couldn't let us be happy, could you? COULD YOU?!"

"You're a fucking idiot. You know my dad is running for Mayor, right? A big time lawyer. You're such an idiot. You're already in jail."

That is when Chris smiled.

"You won't be able to tell daddy, Jason. Because if this works the way I want it to work....you won't live to see the rest of the sun go down."

The group moved in, and a scream could be heard.

Wiping the blood off his shirt, he sat and looked at the floor. It was around 3 am, and he did have school the next morning. Part of school would wonder why student council president Jason wasn't there---part of them would know.

Chris sat, staring at the concrete with heavy eyes. His best friend Brett Miller was right there with him.

"Man, you needa smile man. You finally did wat ya been fixin' to do for years man."

Chris didn't look up.

"But we didn't kill him."

His voice was cold, unwavering. He had burned down a church already, had plans to kidnap Nicole's sister on Prom Night. None of his plans would happen now, because Jason didn't die.

"He in Morton Plant, kid. He in critical."

Chris continued looking down. "Every minute he spends in critical is one minute closer he has to waking up and telling all."

Brett was just finishing putting a lip in.

"So what.....spht....do ya expect us to do about it?"

Chris reached under his chair and pulled out two nurse scrub uniforms.

"Goddamn, you just don't rest do ya?"

"Aint no rest for the wicked, Brett. When we want something, we take it. Something has been taken from now.....now this has to happen."

Th GMC rolld towards Fort Harrison street as Chris changed into his scrubs.

He had a long weekend, a long, diabolical weekend planned......and he wasn't going to get a lot of sleep.

......There was no rest for the wicked.

“The mind was capable of unimaginable feats if one were strong enough to believe
them possible.”
― Kresley Cole, No Rest for the Wicked

[Image: qZzeHfW.jpg]

"Sometimes, you have to play dirty. This match isn't going to be for the light at heart. Pregnant women need not watch. I need to prove to the world, once again, that I am the apex predator. I need the world to once again realize that when it comes to this wrestling shit---it doesn't get more "real" than Chris Chaos. Steve Davids is a tough test, a real challenge, but he, at the end of the day, is just another piece of bait dropped into the water. MY water. And I will eat him accordingly.

Steve Davids is bound to be rusty. He had been gone now how long? It doesn't matter. In this business, and this company especially, any time off is time wasted. Why do you think I opt into every show? People tell me I am going to wear out--I see it as keeping myself fresh. Adapting constantly, prepared for everything. I am young enough and in shape enough to go through the grind. Look at is as an athlete being in his prime mid-season. Davids is Jordan trying to come back after a failed baseball career and a brief retirement. We all remember how that went......he may have tainted his legacy a little. If anyone believes that greatness can be remain great after a long time away, in their first try back, look up Michael Jordan on the Wizards and you will know what I am talking about. Steve Davids is an old timer trying to tussle with the young guns, and this time, the gun is loaded.

The wicked survive in this game, Steve. The nice guys truly do finish last. The nice guys, and the old guys. There is no rest for the wicked here, Steve. I put in work after work night after night, and I bust my ass. It's not hard to get to this level, the hardest part is staying here. You failed to stay at your level, and you let your personal issues get the best of you. You let other people control your life and it cost you your career at its peak. You not only lack the heart to take someone like me down, but you lack the stamina.

I respect everything you have done here. I respect the accomplishments you have garnered in that ring. You were the Universal Champion, so we are members of the same exclusive club. The way I look at it.....guys like you paved the way for guys like me. But that is about all you have done. Your path has been blazed like a wild fire, but now that fire is nothing more than a smolder. I am the raging fire that continues to burn like the depths of hell. You are the ember that needs the spark. As your time winds down, mine flares up. That is how it works. The circle of life. There is no more time to slack off, no more time for me to wait. This is as good a chance of any for you to regain a name around here, but I assure you that won't happen. With Jenny as the ref, and Colton at the table.....face it, Steve, you're SOLJWF. Shit Out of Luck and Jolly Well Fucked. So just accept it. Accept the inevitable and move on. Nobody will blame you. Losing to me is a privilege, an honor, hell it is a goddamn rite of passage. If you wanted to come back and make a name for your beaten down old self again, you'd have to get through me anyway. Why not end it now? Save yourself months of wasted time. Think about it. After this you can go back to your life of riding around in golf and rolling hash all day. There is no place for you on my playground, Steve. It may be all fun and games to you now, but recess is almost over. The game is almost done.

But there is no rest for the wicked guys like me, Steve. After this show I go back to my fancy New York Hotel, get a mustache ride from Jenny, and watch film—study—because I take on AX3 and team with Tidbits on Warfare. My wheels keep turning, engine keeps churning, and I never slow down. Never have, never will. It just isn’t in my nature.

But let me ask you, Steve---because I am curious---when you take a piss, and you finish pissing and shake, then put your dick pack into your pants….does a little piss dribble out? Does a warm sensation run down your upper thigh when you thought you’d gotten it all out? Do you like your women BBW because a little curvature is a good thing and all these kids these days are “too damn skinny”? Do you drive 10 miles an hour under the speed limit? Is hot soup too hot and cold soup too cold? I think you get the point here. You’re old news. You’re ancient. Hell, you’re damn near prehistoric. Maybe you should have kept the Jesus look, then at least you’d have a full gimmick. Now you are just an old dude that nobody cares about with nothing but a shitty win/loss record to be remembered by. That hair was your niche, it made you who you are. You were Steve Davids, “The KingSlayer”, the man among men…...now, you’re just Steve from London with a cheap haircut and a less than stellar in ring resume.

Are you getting my point yet? Dementia hasn’t set in that bad yet, has it? You are nothing to anyone. This is a “what have you done for me lately” business, and all you have done is be nonexistent. All you have been to anyone has been a fond memory of what used to be. That is all you will ever be. So go ahead….dissect this latest promo. Tell me I’m not over Nicole. Tell me I am in a slump right now. Tell me my ego is what lost me the Universal Title. The fact is, I have heard it all before. There is nothing you can tell me that I haven’t heard 1,000 times already. There is nothing you can tell me that will have any affect on the way I come into this match. I am not even going to watch your promo, if you do another one. What is the point? The same meandering crap over and over and over. Th same thing everyone else says. You call yourself “The Kingslayer”, but who have you slain? Truly? Who on your incorrectly written backstage page can you honestly say contributed to that nickname? I can’t name a single one. You wanna know why? Because there aren’t any. You have slain family members, that is about it. No kings, no lords, hell, nobody who even mattered. Just your fucked up trailer park family. Yippee.

Quite frankly, Steve, I don’t care that you are back. I don’t care about your history. Hell I don’t care whether you live or die. All I care about is that when the bell rings for the second time, the hottest chick in the business has my hand raised in victory and your little comeback party goes back to where it came from…..the same as what you are…...

nothing.

I don’t rest because I can’t rest. So either fall in line or get the fuck out of my way…..I have a company to run."

[Image: Lun6IBi.jpg]

27-7-2

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