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Hanari Carnes · **02-21-2020, 03:31 PM**

Every end has a beginning, and every beginning, an end.

Every king starts somewhere. Every peasant has a dream. Every bottom has a top, and every top......has a rock bottom.

The village was in squalor and disarray. A thick cloud of smoke mad visibility nearly impossible as bodies cut through it...some running away, some chasing.

Screaming.

Women, Children. Men

Gunshots rang through the commotion, houses burned, trees fell. Doors were kicked in and entire families dragged out into the street. Mothers separated from children, husbands from wives. Flags were ripped and torn--entire livelihoods strapped to the back of old-model Jeeps and dragged down dirt and rock laden roadways.

Animals squawked from houses, some trapped inside as the structure burned. Some were outside, trapped, cornered and showing their teeth. Some chose to hide in the trees that hadn't yet fell. Some lay dead in the middle of the street.

Those are the lucky ones.

Glass littered the ground, and the rioters feet sparkled red from the shards of glass mixed with blood. Garbage cans were knocked over in the street, littering all of the waste from the week pour onto the roads. Some of them were on fire, also. It was full blown chaos.

Sitting near the back of the town was a house that stayed in relatively good condition, despite all that was going on around it. At a table in the center of the room, wearing a dress shirt with the top 3 buttons open and a pair of designer pants, Hanari Carnes sat. There was an ashtray on the glass table, as well as a pistol, a small pile of cocaine and a glass of what appeared to be Tequila. He took a sip, grinning to himself. Outside, there were sirens. The sounds of people running. Several people knocked at the door, desperate to be let in to escape the anarchy ensuing outside.

Puff. Puff. Blow.

The door opened suddenly, and violently. Tomás, a childhood friend of Hanari's, spilled inside and slammed the door behind him....putting his entire body against it.

THE FOLLOWING DIALOGUE IS IN SPANISH: THIS IS THE ENGLISH TRANSLATION:

"It is fucking crazy out there." He said, panting. His words were a bit jumbled due to his lack of breath. Hanari understood him, however.

"It is madness, wouldn't you say?" Hanari took another puff of his cigar. The gold chain around his neck gleamed in the flourescent lights of the room. He looked outside....it was the middle of the day but the smoke in the air made it look like dusk.

"They are going to kill the president" he said, "this is democracy on its deathbed."

"Since when has the Dominican ever been a democracy, Tomás? Every single time we "elect" someone new, there is always going to be factions out there that oppose. Democracy gives them the right to oppose. It gives them the right to speak their mind. Look at all the shit going on in America right now........they can't make their damn minds up."

"Yeah, but you don't see them rushing the White House and looting the streets of DC!"

".........yet."

Hanari took a sip of the tequila in the glass and grinned again. "What we need is an all powerful leader......someone who cannot be questioned because his rule is iron-clad. We need a king."

Getting up from the table and walking back to a cabinet on the far end of the room, he came back into view with a bottle of tequila and a second glass.

"Tomás, you're too tight. Relax. Deep breaths."

"DEEP BREATHS?! It is only a matter of time before they come bursting through this door and loot this entire house as well.....and what do you have to defend yourself, a fucking pistol?!"

Hanari set both glasses down and filled them up. He slid the other to the end of the table. "Drink with me."

Tomás was hesitant at first but finally sat down, taking the entire glass down with one fluid motion.

"There we go. There is the Tomás that I know." He opened his hand towards the smile pile of cocaine on the table. Tomás looked at him.......then buried his face in it.

"Very good. Now, deep breaths. Come...walk with me."

Hanari stands up, pushing his chair back. A now "relaxed" Tomás followed, as the two walked towards a nearby window.

"You see that hill....wayyyy up top there?"

"Yes, that is Pico Duarte. The highest peak in the Dominican....what is your point Hanari?"

The mountain was barely visible through the smoke and debris in the air, but they both knew where it was.

"Up on top of that mountain is a famous statue.....named after Duarte. He fought for the independence of this nation. He is considered a founding father."

"....and?"

"Sometimes it isn't about being at the top, Tomás, it is about the climb."

"You aren't saying what I think you are saying?"

"We leave tonight, as soon as it is dark. Pack your gear....it is going to be one hell of a journey."

"Chu know.....

Hanari has participated in all sorts of matches here en de XWF. Straight up contess', hardcore matches, steel cages, triple threats, chu name it. I have done it, mang. But there es something that Hanari has no done....

Win March Madness.

I did not participate in de games last year, but watched from home in the Dominican while nursing an injury. I enjoy'd de event, truly. Chu see, Hanari has tasted success here, he has tasted de sweet sauce of being campeón. Tag Team, Televisión. Now, Hanari wants a taste of how it feels to be.....king.

How it feels to be de contendiente número uno for any belt. Think about it, Hanari Carnes as Campeón universal!

How it feels to have a briefcase and a shot to cash in on any unsuspecting campeón at any time.

Last year Hanari sat back and watched that bratty little twerp with the big ego and even worse blotches win de whole thing. Dis year, it es gon' be Hanari Carnes......dat es a promise, chico!

Since de moment I joined up here, I have wanted to be de star. Dis place es loaded with talent, some of de best in de world. To be a star here, chu need to be among the top in dis industry. Nothing es given here, everything es earned. Being a star here is built on blood and sweat. Built on pain. That es something that Hanari loves to cause. Pain.

Speaking of pain....am I de only one who feels great amounts of pain when Jim Jimson speaks? It es painful, ese. It is de worst. I am pretty sure Jim Jimson was drop on his head as a child.....several times....den stepped on. Not to mention he was probably born to a mother on drugs. Do chu hear de shit that come out of this chico's mouth?

Jim, chu es a gimmick. That's it. A gimmick designed to make people laugh. Nobody take chu serious inside dat ring. Nobody fears chu. Nobody respect chu. They just wait to see what ridiculous shit es goin' to leave ya mouth this time. You're Joker, Jim. A mentally ill loner with bad jokes, a weird persona, and nothing going for him. Chu es an entertainment factor, point blank period. Hanari es the next rising star, and at Savage I am going to kick ya chicklets down ya throat, chico.

Sure, chu es de funny man, but how is ya pain tolerance? When I lock in de Viva La Republic....es es not if you scream and tap, et is how long until chu do. When that arm bar is locked in, all de Dolphins in de world will not be able to save Jim Jimson. When that arm pulls to de point of snapping, chor giant familia will not be able to stop it from breaking in half. De names were drawn at random, and chu got the misfortune of getting me first. Ask missa Santos, ask Missa Kaye, ask Mastermind. Hanari es no joke in de ring. Jim, chu es a joke in life.

We are not de same.

Chor accomplishments mean nothing. Heavymetalweight? Featherweight?

Paperweights.

In dis tournament, March Madness, Hanari es de one and chu es de 16 seed, hombre. Hanari es going to roll over ya and jus' keep goin'. Chu es nothin' but a pasty, bald speed bump on the highway to my goal. The goal to make something of myself here. Something chu has failed to do, holmes.

Savage will be jus' another failure for chu Jim......add it to de list."

Your Next King of XWF

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