04-05-2015, 07:30 PM
![[Image: 5QJ9XFt.png?1]](http://i.imgur.com/5QJ9XFt.png?1)
Entry 11
I'm worn, the fuck, out.
All of this running around in a short time has really taken it's toll. I've been living pretty nicely though. I've been staying in the same room for a couple of days now. Just sitting in here watching television most of the time. I've had no desire to go outside. I've had no desire to do anything.
The phone that was left for me must be pretty decent. Before that XWF reporter left he showed me the different shit I can do with it. From check my email to watching Mack Truck promos over and over again.
And that's what I've done. This guy's something. If someone's going to tell me about this organization, I doubt it's going to be this guy, ya know? What the fuck does he know?
It's not even about the XWF shit either. He tries telling me I will feel sorry for waking up?
Dude.
I know we have a job here and all, but I'm lucky to be alive, man. What the fuck kinda person are you? Is your reputation worth more than a human life? Is your win/loss record worth more than whether I lay in the hospital?
So I don't know why I'm here. Do any of us? What's your purpose?
Lemme guess?
Entry 12
I should probably have more shit on my mind than just some stupid fight. Maybe where I'm going to live after this week. Stay in Pittsburgh, maybe? Doubt it. I gave them the go ahead for the Warfare coming up some I'll be traveling again.
No big deal.
I'll eventually get to know a few people around here. The in's and the out's. Who to trust. Maybe how to make a fuckin' living.
I really wasn't interested in making friends at this point, which made the match fine and dandy. Maybe beat some info out of somebody, but like I said, what the fuck does Buster Mac know? The guy's as green as I am. I suppose start off small and work my way to the top.
Entry 13
My phone rang again. On the hook was this guy sent to assist me in everything I need.
OK.
Sent by who?
What?
I thought it was totally weird.
It was completely of the blue too...
"My man! Is this.... Mr. Dead Nick?"
His high pitched voice gave me a headache, and the creeps a little bit.
"The name's Tokyo."
Tokyo?
"I understand you're new around here."
"Yeah, I--"
"Good stuff, good stuff. Tell ya what. You make it to Pittsburgh, yet?"
"Yeah, I---"
"Good stuff. Tell ya what. I've got another meeting here in about thirty seconds... so.. What day is it?"
"Sun--"
"Sunday right?"
What a jerkoff.
"I'll catch up with you before your big match tomorrow night. You just sit tight for a couple of hours and I'll be over for ya, ca pice?"
"I---?"
"Fantastic. Like I said, my man, just sit tight and I'll catch up with you. Make sure you're sitting on your phone, this is important."
Then he was gone.
If that wasn't the most confusing phone call I've had in my entire life, I'm glad I don't remember it.
Entry 14
So here I am. One night away from this match with Buster Mac. No training. No skill. Just a card. A business card and my registration. Am I a fool to just go with the flow? Should I question what the fuck is going on with me? Surely someone's just playing games, but who? I don't fucking know anybody.
UGH.
But who am I to judge, right?
This couldn't be that hard to figure out.
I dunno. I need to focus though. If I'm going to figure anything out, I need to get past this guy. The Mac Machine.
You know, I'm going into this thing with NO fucking idea what to expect. No idea. You talk like you have it all figured out, man. I don't think you do. You came out all strong at the beginning of the week, but now, you're no where to be found. Did you realize that you're nothing but an obstacle that I'm going to blast through this Monday night? If you did and you backed off, you're a smart man. There's nothing short of a fucking bullet that's going to stop me from get past you.
You have to understand there's a strong purpose behind my actions, friend. You have to understand that IF I don't completely rip you aprt tomorrow it would just slow me a down in the future. And I don't have NEARLY enough time to be slowed down, dude. I just woke up from the dead and who knows when I'm going to be claimed by the sweet devil next.
While you're out playing cops and robbers with your old friends, I'm here locked in a small room thinking over and plotting different ways to rip you apart. If you think you have any type of advantage because I was just released from the hospital you're full of crap. As for releasing myself early, I was basically kicked out of the hospital man. It seemed like they had no idea why I was there either. It was weird.
So let's just have a quick look at the rest of the card here. It's crazy that the XWF would even advertise a thing. From the looks of things, there's three guys on there that are the main attractions. Just one of them are in the main event. I don't know. Maybe the XWF is making a little extra this card by paying low budget talent to fill up the arena. I suppose I can dig it.
Next week, though... I agreed to be booked on Warfare. It seems like there's a lot more... variety of talent over on that side of the fence. I can dig that too. Maybe evolve a little quicker by expanding my horzons going against a wider variety of talent.
Entry 15
I took a cab to the place that guy Tokyo told me. The cab driver knew exactly where to take me. Having amnesia like I do is an odd feeling. The constant feeling of deja vu. I seem old enough, no clue how old I might be, but I'm sure I've been plenty of places before.
As we passed through the city at a surprising high rate of speed, no heavy traffic seemed to slow us down. We arrived in a timely manner at a small diner just ouside the core of the city and I exited the cab. I tipped the guy heavily because honestly, besides being scared for my life I was impressed with his driving.
I walked into the diner and tripped over the step on my way in. A few old timers sitting at the bar turned around and took a look at me, then turned back around to their drinks or other flavor. I slowly walked passed them and into the dining area and had a seat in a booth.
I had no idea who I was waiting for. I was looking for a voice, basically. A name. I waited a few minutes until the waitress came by and asked what I would like. I just kind of shoo'd her away.
She stood with her hands on her hips. Her lips were old and filled with botox and disgustingly plump as she gnawed on a piece of gum.
"You can't just take up space in a boot, hunny. If you're not going to order, take a seat at the bar, please..."
That was rude and polite all at the same time. Her strict voice was warning enough and I obided by her rule. I slid up a stool next to the bar and waited for my appointment with this stranger.