I stand in the middle of the Australian desert, staring out across the wasteland. The sun blasts the dirt and sand, thermal waves rippling back up to the sky. Centurion stands behind my right shoulder, and Ned Kaye behind my left. We’re silent for a long moment, lost in our own individual thoughts, until I sigh and shake my head in disgust.

NED: What’s up?

RAVEN: I can’t believe this.

CENTURION: Can’t believe what?

RAVEN: I’ve been here for two days and I haven’t seen a single dingo, kangaroo or koala.

I can feel Ned and Centurion exchanging a glance behind my back. Fuck ‘em. They know they’re equally disappointed and just too cowardly to admit it.

NED: Uh, I don’t think you’re going to see many koalas.

RAVEN: Dont be dense. It’s Australia, Ned. They’ve got koalas here.

CENTURION: The fires, James. It killed them all.

I turn around to glance at the two of them, each staring at me like I’m crazy.

RAVEN: What fucking fires?

NED: Seriously?

CENTURION: He’s kidding, Ned. The funniest joke to Raven is one that only he gets.

Fuck you, Andy. You don’t know my life. These two seem to forget that I’ve spent the past three or four months living on an Indonesian beach with nobody other than Betsy to speak to. It’s not like I was watching the news at night or cruising the internet for headlines. Whatever.

RAVEN: So there’s no koalas?

NED: I don’t think so man, I’m sorry.

RAVEN: Hmmm.

I stare back out across the sand. This changes things. Had I known there were going to be no koalas, I might have stayed on my beach. It’s not like the match against Mastermind was a huge selling point, I was looking for perks.

RAVEN: Well where are the battle buggies? Why can’t I hear the electric guitars and shit?

Centurion groans and rolls his eyes.

CENTURION: What the hell are you even talking about?

RAVEN: Wasn’t Mad Max about Australia?

NED: It was FILMED here, yeah… but it’s not a documentary…

RAVEN: I’m not a moron, Ned. I know it wasn’t a documentary. It’s based on historical events though. I thought Noah and Fuzz wanted to do the show here because it was the site of historical battles? So where are all the crazy cars? Where’s the gimp strapped to the top of a truck, wailing on the electric guitar?

NED: Are you seriou-

CENTURION: Ned! I promise you that he’s just messing with you. Ignore him.

Fuck you, Andy. I mean, this time you’re right but on general principle… fuck you. I shrug my shoulders casually and turn back to Ned with a wink.

RAVEN: All I’m saying is with the budget of this show, you’d think we’d have reached out to the War Lord and asked to borrow a few of their battle buggies to decorate the set. Maybe a few koalas too.

Ned chuckles but is clearly confused. I love it. I grin to myself and turn back to the landscape. I try to imagine what it will look like with the ring assembled, the seating set up, the video screen raised… the fearsome Hell Dome lingering on the columns, waiting to be lowered for the main event. It will be a spectacle, absolutely. I’ll say a lot of things about Noah and Fuzz, but I can’t deny that they’re creative. They think outside the box.

CENTURION: I feel like I’m at Burning Man.

NED: If this was Burning Man there would be attractive hippie girls offering people drugs instead of Peter Gilmour telling me to suck his… yeah.

RAVEN: Cent still hasn’t tried on his dress, Ned. Maybe he can be your attractive hippie girl.

Centurion shakes his head.

CENTURION: I didn’t miss you while you were gone, just to be clear. Go back to your island.

RAVEN: Not yet, buddy. You’re stuck with me.

NED: It’s nice to have you around again.

CENTURION: No need to kiss his ass, Ned.

Ned sighs and looks down at the sand, and I begin to slowly pace away from the other two. I climb a small dune a few yards away, turning to survey the patch of land that will host Cunt Fest in a few days. XWF production staff scramble like ants, carrying piping and foam slabs around desperately to assemble the set in time. It’s surreal to me. I wasn’t expecting to be back here… not for a long, long time at least. Yet here I am, back on my grind, overseeing pre production for another major event, and putting my body on the line yet again.

I sincerely hope I made the right decision to be here.

Ned and Centurion make their way over to the base of the dune, looking up at me as I watch the workers scramble through the sand.

CENTURION: How are you feeling? Are you ready?

RAVEN: If I’m not, this is going to be really embarrassing for me.

NED: Mastermind will put up a fight, but I think you’re going to be fine.

CENTURION: Don’t listen to the peanut gallery, if you do anything short of destroy Mastermind you should just head on back to… Thailand? Bali? Where was that beach you were on again?

I grin to myself. I had sent Andy an email about a month after I left with a photo of my view from the island. Maybe I wanted to inspire a bit of jealousy as he was grinding away on the road, and it seems to have worked. has been trying to figure out where I’ve been since I landed in Australia. I’ve made it a point not to tell him. I don’t need other people invading my new vacation spot.

RAVEN: I was in Denver.

CENTURION: Have I mentioned how much I didn’t miss you? I hope you lose your match.

RAVEN: If I do, at least I won’t be in a dress.

Andy stares at me for a long moment, but finally cracks the first smile I’ve seen on him all night before flipping me the finger and turning away from Ned and I.

CENTURION: On that note, I have a few things to attend to. It’s been fun catching up but the adult needs to leave, you two try not to get into any trouble.

RAVEN: No promises.

He’s gone before Ned or I even process it, wandering back towards the tents and the buggies ready to drive talent back to the hotel. Ned watches Centurion as he makes his way across the sand, then turns to me.

NED: Is he alright?

RAVEN: He’s fine.

NED: Are you sure? I’ve talked to him a few times this week before you showed up, and he sounds nervous.

RAVEN: He’s been in the game a long time, Ned. He covers his bases well. That’s all.

Ned and I watch as Centurion disappears into the shadows of base camp. Slowly, Ned turns to focus on me.

NED: Are you sure you’re OK?

RAVEN: Me? Sure.

NED: No, seriously.

I look into Neds eyes, and can tell he’s asking me for information that’s more than surface. He’s asking me as a friend, a partner.

NED: Are you good? Is there an injury you’re covering, or a run in that you need us to watch out for? Anything?

RAVEN: Nah, handle your own match Ned. Win that belt. You don’t need to worry about me.

Ned says nothing, then shakes his head.

NED: I worry about all of you. Robert, Drew, Andy… you…

I say nothing, but turn to study Ned. His sincerity is touching. Since I’ve landed in Australia I’ve acted like a jack ass. I’ll admit it. It’s nonstop sarcasm and twitter shit talk, but I think everyone can see through it. I think everyone knows I’m deflecting. I need this to go well for me…

RAVEN: I’m fine, Ned. Thanks.

NED: [i]You’re sure?

I grin, and nod my head man.

RAVEN: Yeah man. I’m healthy, I’m happy, I’m rested… I can’t ask for much more. Mastermind is about to get worked.

He grins back to me, but I can see a modicum of doubt in his eyes. He hears the waver in my voice. The People’s G.O.A.T., an unquestionable top ten star of all time… worried about Mastermind… who’d have thunk it?

NED: I can try to help you think of a stra-

RAVEN: No.

Ned stops cold.

RAVEN: Nothing personal, but I got this.

He nods his head. I know he means well, but I need to make sure I can handle this on my own still.

RAVEN: Hey, let’s head back. Maybe we can catch Cent getting his dress fitted or something.

I make my way down from the dune, and together we make our way back towards the base camp.

Fuck me.

This is actually going down.

---

Mastermind, you’ve put in your time in this company so I’m not going to bother sugar coating things. I won’t beat around the bush or tiptoe around the fact that whatever that nonsense you released a few days ago was is one of the most painful promotional videos I’ve ever been forced to sit through. I don’t say that lightly. It was poorly thought out. It was poorly executed. It was repetitive. The dude in the tie and vest looked like someone in a sex offender registry. You made me think of Biggie and not in a positive way, and in the end to justify it all… you tell me you’re mad at me for interfering in a match you had, like… 6 months ago?

Dude.

Get over it.

If you were good enough to win that match, you would have found a way. If you were meant to hold another Xtreme title, you’d have snagged it by now. If you were destined for anything other than gatekeeper status (because you choke like a virgin on prom night each time you face someone like me but still find your way into more title shots than Peter Gilmour) you’d have less than 70 MOTHERFUCKING LOSSES!

Mastermind, you’ve been ragdolled by Frodo and Maverick. Your team got cock slapped by Team Gilmours superdick at Bad Medicine. YOU’VE LOST LIKE HALF A DOZEN TIMES TO ZANE GODDAMN NORRISON! Yeah, the carbon copy zombie from that shitty rom com… beat you… a bunch of times. Explain to me how me interfering in your match 6 months ago negatively impacted your career? It seems to me that you’ve been shooting yourself in the foot and costing yourself significant advancement for the past six years, you didn’t need my help for that.

You want to know my motivation for this match, Mastermind?

You asked for it.

That’s all.

You’ve held this grudge for six months. I’m sure you’ve thought about it again and again, I’m sure you have dream scenarios of what you would do to me in the ring for costing you a fourth Xtreme title… and now is your chance… and none of it is going to happen. You’re going to look me in the eyes, and realize you have grossly overestimated your own abilities and bitten off more than you can chew. You think Gator fucked up your world in the past? You ain’t seen shit, you Kiwi fuck.

I’m about to hit New Zealand worse than Australias smoke.

Learn your lesson, MM. Learn your spot in the rotation. Learn this fucking craft.

You’ve been around way too long. There’s no excuses anymore.

Fear the Raven... Forevermore...