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Thaddeus Duke · (08-29-2020)

The Illuminatus Compound || Old Saybrook, Connecticut

Granted, we haven’t been together very long, but I’ve never seen him this intense. I don’t mean intense as in focused and training hard or anything like that. What I mean is that when he needs to clear his head, he rides his dirt bike on the course he had constructed. Usually after Warfare, he’ll come home after the flight, shower, ride the bike for half hour or so, then he’s golden. Today, he’s been out there almost two hours. He never goes full throttle either, he knows it scares the shit out of me. Today, he’s running wide open.

In the interest of full disclosure, it doesn’t really scare me. I just tell him it does so that he stays safer when he’s riding. He’s an adrenaline junkie with a beat up and battered body today though, so of course, he’s going into a turn and lays it down. Frankie, emulating his idol, rides his minibike in circles around Thad’s course. He keeps asking for a dirt bike too, but Thad keeps changing the subject.

I sit reading, or more accurately, pretending to read a book at the garage entrance as Thaddeus picks up his bike and hops back on. It takes him a few tries but he gets it started and he hightails it toward me. Frankie, much slower and way behind, in tow. He kills the engine outside the garage and steps off.

He’s so fucking hot in his dirt bike gear. Angered and frustrated, he rips off his helmet and chucks it across the garage.

”Baby, you okay?”

”Fucked up the chain cover,” he replies as Frankie dumps his minibike and heads inside. ”Frankie that’s not where your bike goes, now put it away.”

”Get me a real dirt bike then,” Frankie demands and Thaddeus loses his temper, but bites his tongue.

”Go see Berta. Feed Simba and Mufasa.”

Frankie disappears into the house and Thaddeus limps over toward Frankie’s bike to put it away.

”You’re limping,” I say to him as I cut off his path. He wraps his arms around me and forces a smile.

”It’s nothing. I just jarred my knee a little.”

”Maybe a hot soak in a bathtub will do you some good,” I offer with a wry smile.

”Yeah, I’mma head upstairs.” He tries to get away, but I don’t let him.

”I’ve never seen you dump your bike before.”

”Some joints locked up on me a little. Going toe to toe with Robbie Bourbon, I guess that happens.”

”Can I ask you something?” I ask of him but I didn’t really wait for him to answer. ”How do you look so much hotter when you’re covered in dirt and sweat?”

Finally that coaxes a legitimate laugh out of him.

”I’m a gift.”

”Go take your bath, the masseuse will be here in ten,” I remind him. ”You play your cards right, maybe I’ll join you in the tub and play ‘Hide the Sub’ again.”

”Hey!” he shouts playfully. ”Don’t make promises you have no intentions of keeping!”

She’s right. I don’t ever dump my bike. After facing Bourbon twice and the attack from Main and Chris Page in Paris, I’m as sore and as tight as I’ve ever been. Going around the bend, the vibrations from the bike just locked me up and I couldn’t respond. So it was either dump it, or risk serious injury.

I resisted the masseuse at first but finally relented and as I lay here butt ass naked with nothing but a towel over my ass, this amazon woman is hurting the shit out of me. But it hurts so fucking good.

”Hey babe,” I greet Liz through the face hole thingy on the massage table. She sits with a book below me. ”What you got there?”

”Your yearbook. I found it in the closet.”

”What do you want with that?”

”To see you in your high school days.”

”Ohhhhh godddddd,” I respond to the amazon masseuse. ”It was like a year ago. I’m not that different.”

”Oh? Then tell me, WHO IS THIS!?” she asks, showing me the page.

Jack Fitzgerald
Class of 2020

I can’t help but chuckle.

”Clearly, that’s your wonderful boyfriend.”

”Awww, I’m sorry I never told you.

“You’ll move on, find a better woman.

“Or man. Or whatever.”

”Ha haaaaa! She got jokes.”

”Jack Fitzgerald though? How many names have you had?”

”Just the three, I promise.

“What’s Frankie doin’?”

”He was bathing Simba.”

”How do I… AWWW GODDDD… How do I balance being his friend, and an authority figure?”

”Baby you’re doing fine.”

”I let him get away with not doing what he was told.

“I don’t see that as fine.”

”How pissed were you?”

”Like a thousand percent.”

”And you held your fury and chose not to battle with him while you were angry at him, in pain from the wrestling stuff, and frustrated that you wrecked your bike.

“He’s adjusting and so will you. It’s not gonna be perfect over night.

“Oh.

“My.

“GOD!” she reacts to a page in the yearbook. ”What the hell possessed you to cut off all your beautiful hair?”

Jack Fitzgerald
October 2019

Her reaction makes me laugh a bit. ”It was for the Halloween dance. I went as Eleven from Stranger Things.”

She slams the book closed. ”That makes it infinitely cooler, but still. Don’t ever do it again.”

”Yes, dear.”

“You looked like a fucking lesbian.”

”Noted,” I say with a chuckle.

”I mean seriously. You looked like the bastard lesbian love child of Ellen DeGeneres and a cancer patient.”

”I get it!”

”And that’s being nice.”

I do look way different with short hair. She should’ve seen me when I was blond. I looked like a completely different person in those days.

”Awwwww,” she says, resuming her browsing through my yearbook.

”What?”

She shows me what she’s looking at. A photo of me, Garrett and Curtis.

”Curt and Garrett.”

”I can see why you’d be attracted to Garrett. He’s pretty cute.”

”It was more than that,” I say with a grunt.

”What was it? Did he have a big...”

”LIZ!” I shout playfully, controlling my laughter.

”I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Keep your pants on Nancy.”

”God I miss Curt.”

”I know you do baby,” she says as she flips pages. Her smile grows so wide. ”Ohhhhh myyyyyy godddddddddd.”

”What is it this time?”

She says nothing, only points the book in my direction.

Jack Fitzgerald
2019 Talent Competition

”What about it? I rocked the fuckin’ house that night.”

”You can rock any house, but what’s the explanation?”

”Curt bet me that the Nats would win the World Series. They were a long shot against the Astros. So naturally I took that bet,” I begin to explain to her. ”The bet was that if I lost, I had to re-enact Rhianna’s ‘Umbrella’ at the talent competition. Originally I was just gonna sing my entrance theme.”

”I’d kill whoever I had to in order to see that performance.”

”I have it recorded somewhere. Curt got it with his phone.”

”Oh we’re SO watching that.”

”I did great! Won the damn thing.”

It hurts a ton but at the same time, its good for the soul to reminisce about Curtis Joseph. He’s gone now, but he lives on in memory, and we had some great ones.

”Frankie!” yells Jim from out in the hallway. ”Stop!”

”You mind seeing what’s goin’ on out there?”

She doesn’t hesitate. To be fair, she was already getting up. I’m a little predisposed at the moment in this wonderful world of painfully awesome massagery. Elizabeth opens the door and immediately a crashing sound is heard followed by the sound of glass breaking and a panting lion complete with the repetitive tap tap tap of paws on marble flooring.

”Francis! Robert! Rickle!” she shouts out immediately.

”Excuse me a minute,” I say to the masseuse as I turn over and wrap the towel around myself before limping out into the hallway.

”Frankie! What the actual fuck!?” To my amazement, Frankie is riding on the back of Simba at fucking warp speed around the house. Paws don’t exactly get great traction on marble floors and they’re crashing into everything and busting shit up.

”FRANKIE, GET OFF OF HIM RIGHT NOW!”

Taken aback a little by my increased volume, Frankie rides Simba to a halt and looks at me a moment before climbing down. This is the first time I’ve ever hollered at him and I’m sick to my stomach over it.

”What the hell are you doing?”

”It’s not my fault!”

I look at him, stern faced. Well, as stern a face as I can muster. Sure he broke a bunch of shit but fuck is that hilarious. Who thinks to ride a lion?

”No really! I was trying to dry him off but he wouldn’t hold still. So I climbed on his back and he just started running!”

Know what? He may actually NOT be lying. I’ve seen Simba do that before. Give him a bath and start to dry him, he decides he’s done and wants to run sixty ninety hundred around the house.

”Room. Now.”

”But Thad!”

”GO!”

Frankie saunters off in a huff.

”Oh. My. God.” she says, surveying the damage.

I crack a smile.

”That’s not funny! He could have been seriously hurt!”

”He’s 9! Nine year olds bounce back.”

”You...need to start laying down ground rules,” she says as she stomps off, leaving me, still mostly naked but for the towel, and Jim standing in the hallway.

”Sup?”

”Sup mate?” He coughs a little.

”You good?”

”I’m good, yeah.

“You?”

”I’m just wondering if this massage comes with a happy ending.”

”Thad! Frankie!” Liz shouts from the bedroom.

”Duty beckons.”

”Roight mate.”

Before I go to Frankie’s room, I get dressed. I feel like being half naked while trying to parent isn’t good for anybody. This is where we cue the sad music and the Full House woe is me, my mom is dead so I do dumb things life lesson montage right?

Wrong.

This isn’t an act. It’s not a television show.

”Frankie,” I say as I enter his room. He’s lying on his bed with his face buried in his pillow and clutching Mama Bear. He doesn’t answer me, he only wiggles his foot. Sitting on the edge of his bed I start to look around the room. It’s both gratifying, but at the same time a little unnerving. His walls are covered with posters and pictures of me. He idolizes me. He loves me no matter what. I’m a hero to him in his own mind, but I’m no hero. I try to do good, but I have shortcomings too, just like anyone.

”Turn around and look at me,” I instruct him. To which, he shakes his head. ”Francis, I wasn’t asking. Turn around. Look at me.”

He hesitates, but finally rolls over and looks at me.

”It really wasn’t my fault! I was just trying to dry him off and he took off!”

”And you were laughing the whole time.”

”Well it was fun!”

I can imagine that being pretty fun. Who the fuck gets to ride a lion?

”Things have to change, you know that?”

I’ve gone so easy on him up until now. He’s just a kid and he’s been through a ton. So, I try to keep that in mind when he’s acting up. Liz is right though. Ground rules need to be established. I can’t let him just run roughshod over everyone. As much as I hate to discipline or to come down hard on him for any reason, he does need structure.

”It’s different now ya know? I can’t just be your buddy anymore. I have to parent you too.”

”Yeah.”

”You don’t like that.”

He shakes his head.

”Well kiddo, I don’t like it either but that’s the way it has to be.”

”I know. It sucks though.”

”Yeah it totally does.”

”I don’t like it when you yell at me.”

”I don’t like it either buddy, but we’ve been friends too much lately. I’ve let you get away with disrespecting everyone. Me. Lizzy. Jim. Even Berta.

“I try to give you everything you want..”

”Except the dirt bike.”

”We’ll talk about that in a minute.

“I’ve also let you get away with taking for granted the things I do give you. If you can’t respect me by taking better care of your things, you’ll never graduate to a dirt bike. I have a lot of money and I know you know that.

“Did you know that we live strictly off my money from wrestling? Did you know that I put my body through hell to give you the life you deserve? We get done riding bikes and you just toss it anywhere. That hurts me, Frankie. I bust my ass for you.”

”I know.”

”You want a damn dirt bike?”

”Thad, the mini bike is too slow! And it sucks on the dirt! I know I’m little but they still make bikes in my size.”

”No more disrespecting Liz. No more disrespecting Jim. Absolutely, positively no more disrespecting Berta. And no more disrespecting me. You will respect their authority over you, especially when I’m on the road for work. No back talking, no more ignoring instructions like earlier when I told you to put your bike away.

“Prove you can do those things and I’ll get you a dirt bike.”

”I’ll be better.”

It’s easy to sit there and think ‘y’all barely even talked about him riding a lion around the house’ and you’d be right. It was never about riding the lion. I mean, if I was his size and had a couple lions at my beckon call, I’d ride them all over the god damn place. I get it. That was just the final straw. Indicative of a much broader problem. Most of it lies at my feet because I’ve allowed him to do whatever he wants.

That changes today.

For the first time in my career I sit here on the receiving end of back to back losses. While its true wins and losses mean very little to me, this stings a little. If only because I knew I could have beat Robbie Bourbon on both occasions, but failed to do it. He earned both of his victories over me so I’m not gonna sit here and say he shouldn’t have won. He did, I didn’t and that’s that. He’s tougher than a two dollar steak but despite our difference in size, he learned that I’m just as good and as tough to beat as I claim I am. I feel no shame about losing to Robbie Bourbon. He had to bring out his absolute best to get the job done and he did exactly that. He gave me everything he had and I him. Despite the outcomes, I had a blast facing him and I tip my figurative hat in respect for him.

I’m beaten and battered thanks to two matches with Robbie and that cowardly attack from Cataclysm after I just went to war with Bourbon, but I’m not broken. I’m still standing and ready to fight and that’s bad news for Page and even worse news for Chris Chaos.

Chris Chaos and I go back a long long way in this company. The first time we squared up, he got the better of me. The thing about him though is nothing ever changes. Match one from him is the same as match two, match three, match four and so on. So he never could beat me again. Not on Savage. Not on pay per view. He sunk so low as to send his plastic barbie doll after me and she got beat a couple times too.

To survive and thrive in this business, you have to evolve and change with the times. Evolution is a mystery to Chris Chaos. He has no idea how to better himself. He thinks getting better is Chris acting like an even bigger bitch than he’s always been. That’s not changing for the better. That’s Chris Chaos just being the same old Chris Chaos.

He rode a wave of success in the XWF when he first came in, but the competition in those days was: dare I say, a bit softer than it is today. As the competition got stiffer and stiffer, Chris remained the same and has become a bit of a joke in the halls of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation. I mean, the guy teams with Peter Gilmour. That should tell you all you need to know about how far he’s fallen in the eyes of the fans, the roster and the powers that be.

Chris is a guy that thinks getting to Theo Pryce is somehow a way to get over on Sarah Lacklan and her Universal Championship. His logic is faulty because of course it is. I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I know what’s going on with Chaos and my uncle, because I don’t and further, I don’t really care. What I do know, is that Sarah Lacklan would chew up Chris Chaos and spit him out then ask for more. Why is he in such a hurry to get embarrassed? Because he can’t help himself.

See, Chris thinks the only way for him to remain relevant to the wrestling world is to compete for the Universal title. I use the term compete a bit loosely because Chris isn’t competition for Lacklan. Just a little tune up to keep competitors like her, sharp. Slightly better than beating up Gilmour for thirty minutes. Maybe as good as beating Mastermind.

If you think Theo Pryce had NOTHING to do with this booking, you are SORELY mistaken. My uncle and I may have very little affection for one another, but he knows two things are true: one is that Chris Chaos has always been a bit of a punching bag for me and two, Chris Chaos knows that too.

Chris, during his reign of lame in the XWF has had two really, really big enemies that he never could quite overcome. The first is obvious, me. That one time he got me, was the first time we fought and he was never able to do it again. The other? Is Chris Chaos. He bought into his own hype and he’s been the architect of his own downfall.

That’s the difference between people like him and people like me. He sits and wonders why all the stupid little tricks he plays never actually amounts to anything and continues to use the same old tricks. Whereas I study hard at my tapes and I figure out what isn’t working like I thought it would and why it isn’t and I adapt. I overcome. I change.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Chris, Warfare is coming. I don’t have to prove that I’m better than you. I’ve already done that multiple times with varying degrees of victory. Why? Simply stated as a fact and not as a biased, bloated opinion of myself: I am better than you in every facet of life and the world in which we play.

He’s squirming at home watching this because he knows its a fact. His heart is racing because he knows he isn’t going into a winning situation at Warfare. He doesn’t like it and he shouldn’t like it but it is fact. And its not one that’s going to change simply because he wants it to.

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