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Robert "The Omega" Main · (09-29-2019)

Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino Hollywood Florida

The sound of cards moving from the dealer's hands whirling around me like a tornado, the bells and whistles of various slot machines filled my throbbing head that was already filled to the brim. A casino is nothing more than a playground of neon and strobing lights dampening all my senses. The murmur of the crowd behind me, the clicking of a roulette wheel off to my left, I cherished the way red and black rushed together as it spins. For a moment I take my eyes off the table leering in the direction of the high rollers in their suits gliding like sharks through aqua water. That’s where I should be right now. I run my fingers over the brushed feel of the green felt and listen to the soft tumble of the dice hit the back wall of the table. These adult play grounds are designed to keep you inside, spending every nickel to your name. Everything was at my beckon call if the hundred-dollar bills kept flowing from my wallet that is. I should feel at home. Yet I feel empty? Far from the proud general willing to go to war. What I am is humiliated and mortified. The pretentious, narcissistic man I was. Died on Savage.

The question I ask my self is I am deserving of escaping this hurricane of thoughts, the positive and the negative analysis of the actions and words of others. I am worthy of a better life? Am I right-minded enough to even be able to compete at Relentless? Becoming a two-time Champion? The answer is no, I’m not. I’m done. After the dust settles from this match Robert Main is walking away. This situation isn't working for me and I have the right to seek something that does, someplace I feel welcome and appreciated. Suddenly my chest feels hollow, and then all at once, it's filled with this humming. My face numb. What am I so apprehensive about? All the reasons not to do this come flooding in, as if my body chemistry just sent a blanket invitation. I feel a soft panic that can snowball or dwindle depending on what I do next. I take a deep breath letting everything out. It will dematerialize if I can just back away, but then that feeling rushes right back over me and I have to do this all over again. It will continue to mushroom if I let these thoughts swirl into a vortex of stupidity, eating at their own tail. Or I can breathe slow, let the thoughts leak into the ether and be the real boss of me. Either way I’ve got to kick this.

Stick Man: “George” you in?

In craps terminology “George” means I’m a good tipper. I nod to the stick man placing one black chip on the pass line and concentrate on the dice being tossed.

Dealer: Yo-leven winner, winner.

Robert observes as 100 dollars turns into 200 dollars. He taps the table a few times deciding to leave his money on the pass line. The stick man slides the dice back to the roller who fumbles with the dice for a moment before tossing them down the table once more. Robert remains emotionless.

Dealer: Big Red! Winner, winner chicken dinner.

2 black chips turn into 4. Robert now has 400 dollars on the pass line, he doesn’t lift a finger.

Hey “boys” can we get a cocktail waitress over here? Maybe some cigars?

Dealer: Of course, Mr. Main.

The dealer taps the Box Man on the shoulder. He nods having a good look at Robert then instantly grabbing a phone at the pit.

I needed something hell anything to drown out the feelings inside me. I've seen this darkness before, the kind that makes streets look like an old-fashioned photograph, everything a shade of grey. This isn't like that. This is the blackness that robs you of your best senses and interchanges it with a gut-wrenching terror. In this murkiness I sit, muscles cramped and unable to move. I only know my eyes are still there because I can feel myself blink, still instinctively moisturizing the organs I have no current use for. For a brief moment I go full Hellen Keller. I guess that I should bring my heart rate down below the level of “rabbit in a snare” scenario but it doesn't. By my genes, I am a predator, yet I feel like prey in this utter black. Indifference washes over me like heavy water, holding me to the ground and only letting some of the sunlight in. Under the burdensome blue, there is nothing else that matters, nothing fundamentally worthy of my time. Unknown Soldier believes I’ll come out guns blazing, a white knight on a horse. That isn’t going to happen, I’ve played that part for this company once before. When Chris Page and his cult of

tried strong arming the place into giving them what they wanted.

They wanted to kill the XWF from the inside out. I though being the good little employee that I am rallied the troops and stood on the front line waving the XWF banner proudly. Apex fought off the invaders and where did that get me? Stabbed directly in the back. Blindsided by a rat bastard who should do the world a favor and deep throat a shot gun much like he does his “boys” pork sword pulling the trigger ending is all once and for all. I was betrayed by the company I fought for, and I’ll be dammed if I save the company once again. Fuck XWF, we all know what this match is. It’s a one-way ticket, a kamikaze mission. As my heart rate rises to 100 beats per minute. Everything I did to calm myself gets undone. The sun rises and falls whether I move or not, days come and go. I know the feeling will lift when my eyes appreciate the gleaming golden rays. Then the water will retreat allowing my lungs to fill with fresh air. Then I will move as quickly as possible to make up for lost time, but in apathy, there is no time to think, no time to know the right path instead of guessing. I'm trying, God knows I'm am, but I can't feel a damn thing.

Do you want to know how it feels? It feels like going underwater, closing your eyes. Everything in the world suddenly ceases to exist. The only thing you hear is the beating of your own broken heart and the thoughts on your mind, and if you don't reach the surface, your lungs begin to burn begging for oxygen, demanding it because you can't breathe. That's how I feel about everything lately. I can only hear the echoes of my past, the voices on my mind, and sometimes it's hard to breathe, but the rest of the world doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters right now for me. I just feel the beating of my heart; nothing less, nothing more. Soldier wasted an entire promo saying I’d be a man possessed, a man on a mission and that’s the furthest from the truth. In my very last match in the XWF my sole purpose is do whatever I can to lift the Championship from a man who doesn’t deserve it. I don’t want to battle my inner demons in this death wish. I want to exercise them, let them run wild making a beautiful mess of things.

Dealer: Six. Point number is six.

Robert tosses two black chips on the table

Give me 9 and 5.

600 dollars is now on the table as the cocktail waitress brushes her hand on Robert’s back.

What can I get you, honey?

Robert smiles dropping a 100-dollar chip on her tray

I’ll have the most expensive bourbon this place has to offer. Neat please.

She grins from ear to ear as she walks away winking at Robert. Her tall frame and slender body were like a Victoria Secret model. Her blue eyes, like the sea, each were calm and emotionless. Her long, wavy blonde hair, so smooth and silky, almost as if it was tailored from gold fabric.

Here I am standing at a hot table, a ravishing woman seems into me and I feel like complete and utter ass. Detachment is the stop sign I can't get passed. I thought I was special, I wanted so much to be cherished, but I'm nothing more than fall leaves on the ground. I only know I'm alive from the shadows I cast, proof that the sunlight still hits my skin and noticed I was there. My limbs aren't graceful, my head isn't wise, my heart isn't healthy. I am a cutout, a moving human shape where love should dwell, but all I see is this hovering darkness. If apathy were a person her skin would be grey from lack of sun and her limbs frail from malnutrition. Her food would be love and her medication a prestigious purpose, one that meant everything to someone - just one person would do. She would never open her eyes until someone remembered her name, the right sounds said with pure love. Then she would open them and gaze upon the one who knew how to call her and morph from apathy into what she was born to be. Honestly, she’s a bitter bitch.

Dealer: Winner, winner hard six!

The dealer slides four more black chips Roberts way. Robert leaves 800 on the pass line gesturing for his other bets back. Unexpectedly, he hears his voice as the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

CHRIS PAGE- “Look at you go, Dick, do you have a horseshoe up your ass? I mean our deathmatch you fell on top of me and it just so happens your hand and arm landed on my chest. You and lady luck must have a thing. What’s next? You going to pull a rabbit out of a hat? You didn’t beat me, and you fucking know it. What happened was you survived me.”

Shut up! I beat you fair and square. Stop bitching.

Page leans against the craps table watching all the madness unfold.

Dealer: Seven, winner!

CHRIS PAGE- “Bitching? Really Main? If that’s how you want to defend Championships go ahead. I for one would be ashamed of myself. You need to wake the fuck up before you get embarrassed in front of the world. Again!”

Coming from the man with all the broken promises. I proved you wrong, case closed ass hole.

CHRIS PAGE- “1600 hundred on the pass line Robert? Betting it all on a good run of terrible luck? Look at the guy he’s an amateur. He’s going to fuck this up for you. The loser can’t keep it up and eventually, you’ll get caught pants down yet again. Everything taken within a blink of an eye. Kind of like Savage Tag Team Championships gone. Universal Championship bye, bye. Before you know it, you’ll be wrestling on the beach for free like the other shit mid card talent. That’s where you are headed, back to low pay days and meaningless Championships.”

Dealer: Seven winner! Impressive sir.

3200 hundred is sitting on the pass line as Page points

CHRIS PAGE- “Go big or go home right MAIN? Look at you go. You’ve got the world by the balls in this fancy casino winning lots money, the waitress want’s your nuts. Yet here you are throwing a pity party for yourself. You’re being a bitch, let me go to the lady’s room and get you a couple tampons and some Midol. Stop being a pussy. Where is the Dick Main that gave me such resistance when I walked back through those doors? Wake up Main! You need to get your head out of your ass or Soldier is going to decapitate you then shit down your neck for fun.”

Here’s your bourbon. I’m still trying to find a cigar.

Listen, keep them coming and don’t worry about the cigar.

Okay, I’ll be right back.

CHRIS PAGE- “Really Main? Say something, anything. She’s instantly moist around you. The lady’s been on her back so damn much I bet her feet are sun burned. Earth to Dick say something. Or have your balls fallen off? I’m starting to believe Soldier castrated the fearless Robert “The Omega” Main.”

Robert takes a drink of bourbon then shouts at the cocktail waitress

Hey!

Is something wrong?

No, no. Hey, what time do you get off? I was thinking maybe you and I could grab dinner and a drink on me?

Page pushes himself away from the table clapping obnoxiously

I get off at 9.

Robert flips Page the bird

Who are you flipping off?

Page grins grabbing his crotch

Uh… No one.. I thought I saw an old buddy that’s all. So it’s a date?

Oh, (laughs) I do that to my friends too. I’ll be right back with your drink. Good luck. And yes it’s a date.

The cocktail waitress strokes Robert’s hand winking as she walks away. Robert grins revealing his one gold tooth then downs his bourbon.

CHRIS PAGE- “She can’t see me DICK! I’m in that head of yours.”

Robert looks at his empty glass

CHRIS PAGE- “Trying to drink me away?”

Oh, I’m trying that’s for sure.

The table erupts

Dealer: Wow! Yo-leven winner, winner.

6400 hundred dollars now sits on the pass line when Robert speaks up

Color me!

The dealer nods taking the 6400 in chips laying them on the table for the eye in the sky to witness. Then hands Robert six yellow chips worth 1000 each and four black. Robert pulls his money off the table. Awaiting his next drink.

Dealer: 2! Crap out!

The table groans

CHRIS PAGE- “Well look at you. You survived yet again! I’m your bridge over troubled water DICK.”

_-_-_-_-STATIC_-_-_-_-

_-_-_-_-PROMO_-_-_-_-

Some thought of Robert as a cold calculated monster in the ring, others called him evil, even after everything that he had done for his company. But in reality, Robert was simply the only solution to the diabolical shit storm swirling around the XWF. If the carcasses from the past wanted a war. Then Robert would give them one without end. After all the careers lost, after the end of all wars, armed with knowledge, that all the old ways of thinking, would never be enough. Enough to save the XWF from the jaws of defeat

Soldier, you’re wearing such a brave face, yet underneath all the paint I can hear the trepidation in your shaky voice. I’m the only one who can unshroud The mystery.

Robert would have to try something truly revolutionary. The time will come where, or hero will have to make the ultimate choice. A sacrifice, and in doing so he knew going in that he’d have to break all the rules. Every man has a moment, after he’s listened to all the hate. After he’s processed all the ridicule. After he’s recovered from all the humiliation. Salvation seems to beckon the man with many wounds. Sometimes that man just needs to reach out and touch it. But some men can’t.

Let me put all those feelings of dread to rest dick head. You’re not going to die because I won’t allow that to happen. You’ll only wish you were dead.

The man who elects not to be delivered from suffering, the man who desires not to be saved. The man that’s never asked for permission nor begged for any forgiveness. The man who looks what he is afraid of in the face even when it means certain defeat against unsurmountable odds. This man knows his truth. His destiny. That man knows hit true power. That man knows when his moment for salvation comes he doesn’t want to be taken from evil. No! He wants to be delivered to evil. Because that man knows that after all the rumors and gossip and slander and stories of demons and Devils and threats. Stories are all they are, and stories they will remain.

See the righteous can never truly die. Men like me, we live on, transformed into something more. We live on through our fans, through our legacy that we left behind, through the blood sweat and tears we left in the ring. We cannot make ourselves legends.

Robert points to himself

For a man like me or even you for that matter, to die means we would have been forgotten. After Relentless no one will ever be able to forget where they were when this epic match takes place. This is a moment in time people will tell their grandchildren about. The end all be all. After everything that transpires, death will meet a defiant hero unwilling to quit. This match will live on long after you and I are gone. How could anyone forget the day that “The Omega” defeated the Unknown Soldier becoming a two-time Champion? Then dropping the belt walking into retirement. We both know what this is about, were playing for blood. Now as Champion you got to decide the stipulation and what did you come up with. You, clever girl you. A six, six, six, street fight. Who would have guessed it? I’m not sure if you thought this through or not but, hey I’m a team player why not.

Robert raises his index finger

One issue. Tell me how in the hell you plan on pinning me down when you barely stole three seconds from me. Was this really your idea? Come on man, you’d better hope that necklace you wear really holds the powers of Satan because if it doesn’t you’re going to be in some trouble my friend. Two people in this company has pinned me down for three seconds. Two, and you think for a split second, I’m going to stay down for six hundred and sixty-six seconds? This must be a joke, right? You think that having a long drawn out gimmick match is going to make an example out of me? Maybe you should knock some dust off the memory banks like you did that case pal. Because no one has ever made an example out of “The Omega” and lived to tell the tail.

I’m mean look at you the Epitome of Evil, Midnight Murder Machine. A think dicked drug abuser weighing in at 137 pounds soaking wet. Tell me how a painted-up string bean is going to do anything other than get smacked around like a bitch on the corner that didn’t have her pimp’s money. The people in the seats know how “great” you are, the long list of men and women you pinned to the canvas know how “exhilarating” you are. Solider your words shriek dominance but your behavior and conjugation in your voice tells a much different tail. My entire career I’ve never had a second of nervous tension not until now. Do you know what is going to happen to you once I get ahold of you? I’ll snap you like a twig. I’m no longer going to be the guy management turns to. I was their puppet for the longest time and those days are over.

Now I’m a target because they cannot control what they are stuck with. You see Soldier the powers above is all has turned me into this brooding mad man. Truth be known they want you to take me out, sending me into retirement. Why? Because good guys don’t sell tickets. The money is in the bad guy. The fans want to watch the good guy chase after what was taken from him. They want to see revenge. Beef is a cash cow in this business. I’m going off the rails and management is afraid of what I’m going to do. Hell, to be honest I don’t’ even know what’s next. One thing is dead certain, once I signed on that dotted line they had their victory. All the money is on you Soldier. It’s all just bait and switch and in no way am I inferior to The Unknown Soldier. Just because you pulled a fast one circumventing my record doesn’t make you a leviathan.

Robert is handed another bourbon

You want the fans to have no doubt in your words, but those fans that cheer me on they know better. They can read in-between the lines and can see the unadorned truth. Our Champion doesn’t want the entire world to become awaken and see the obscurity for themselves. That’s why every single promo since you began wrestling is filled with rape jokes, severed heads and pentagrams. You can sit on any hill in the pitch back of night that you’d like. It changes nothing. All the goat’s blood and bull shit props are just that. It’s all build up for a major let down. You pop off with those painted dick suckers with no accuracy what so ever. But don’t worry soon I’ll make sure those words you decided to speak. You’ll inevitably eat them. You're pathetic. I don’t need to throw a bag of sugar on anything I say. I speak the truth and it comes from my heart, no need to deceive a damn soul. I’m bad for business, they need change around here. They didn't want me in power, what they wanted is all the fans willing to spend.

It’s a machine, and they want their percent. When I’m gone they’ll waste no time in trying to rewrite my history. This match though, is the evidence I need before I go. As I down another legend. All the machete blades and severed heads will make no difference. I’m the new sickness they will swallow come Relentless. I refuse to me molded or changed. And after I thrash your ass, your going to want to Benoit every person you see to try and solve this problem. I’ll leave you shamed and embarrassed like you did me. My only wish is after this is all said and done I could resurrect you.

So I could kill you again!

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode It is a man's own mind, not his enemy or foe, that lures him to evil ways.
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