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Thaddeus Duke · (01-29-2021)

Illuminatus Compound || Old Saybrook, Connecticut || 1:22 PM

Sometimes I feel ashamed of my lack of availability to those I love and care about. Despite his history, I do care a lot about Paul Heyman. While I was hesitant to take him on and even mocked him privately, I’m not sure I’d be where I am right now without him. To be perfectly clear, I’ve always had the in-ring ability to get things done but I had a tendency to lose focus rather easily. Admittedly, I have this predisposition to grow bored and complacent fairly regularly and Paul taught me a great deal in combating those issues.

For better or worse, I owe him more than most can possibly fathom. I know his mere presence is frowned upon by many within the hallowed halls of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation, but they’ll just have to live with it. Whether they’re willing to admit it or not, Paul Heyman has become part of the fabric upon which the modern XWF was built upon. Any deniers are liars. He gets mocked by many, including myself, for his at one time repetitive nature as it pertains to his tenure as Madness general manager, but as I’ve gotten to know him on a personal level, I learned that he takes a great deal of pride in the magic he fostered on that show.

A sort of magic he also fosters with the clients he’s represented over the years.

At lunch, he tried to pull out of our agreement on me. I wasn’t having it. So I did for him the same thing he did for me all those months ago in Berlin when he and I first met. I sold him on who he is. Even the best sometimes lose their way. Even the best sometimes see their confidence begin to waver.

After lunch and surprisingly needing to glow up Paul some, I rush back home. Corey Smith’s plane has already landed and I’m in a hurry to see him. I never thought about it until recently but the fact he’s physically healed and doing his own thing now means there’s less time for our friendship. We’re both pretty god damn busy as of late and while I see him at pretty much every show, we don’t get to just chill outside the arenas much anymore. Today, that changes some. Corey’s about to take what I hope will be my new primary finisher.

Over.

And over.

And over.

Until I get it right. I mean, what else are friends for than to take wrestling moves when you damn well feel like it?

Turning right off of Galileo Drive and into the long ass winding, tree lined driveway, I check my phone for an update from Corey on his whereabouts. He’s already here. His Uber dropped him off at the bottom like ten minutes ago. Hitting the accelerator a little harder purely out of excitement, my Land Rover lurches forward with a bit of haste. As I near the gate, I can see Corey on his knees and his hands behind his head, multiple guards have their guns drawn and pointed at the back of his head.

The scenery before me fills me with both rage and confusion. They knew he was coming, why the hell are they treating him like this? Slowing my car to a quick stop, I throw the car in park and bail out, rushing over to the crowded collection of confused nitwits.

”What the hell is going on here!?” I demand as a couple guards rush over to stop me from approaching his position.

”Thad!” Corey shouts out. ”Thank god! Get me out of this!”

”Quiet McGovern!”

”McGovern...” I question aloud. ”Corey, what’d you do!?”

”Nothing I swear!” he shouts out.

”Sir, he said his name was General McGovern,” answers one of my guards, causing me to laugh on the inside. ”He said he was here to ‘get’ you.”

”Do you think he looks like McGovern, dumbass?”

The guard looks at me, then down at Corey.

”McGovern’s like 50,” I inform the guard. ”Does he look 50?”

Again the guard looks at me, then at Corey.

”Do you honestly think even if he was 50 that McGovern would show up here by himself telling my guards he was gonna come kill me?” I say before taking a breath. ”Jesus don’t be so stupid.”

”Ha! You’re in trouble,” Corey says, his hands still behind his head and guns still pointed at him.

”Quiet!” the guard shouts at Corey. ”Or I got a bullet with your name on it!”

Bitch switch, engage!

With little to know warning I steal the rifle from my guards hands and hit him in the face with the butt of his own gun. He staggers backward and I grab his wrist and flip him over onto the pavement before pointing his own gun in his face.

”You ever threaten him like that again,” I say to him, my face beet red. ”I swear to god I have a bullet with your name on it.”

The guard lies on the ground, his hands up in submission, trembling in fear.

”Did you piss yourself?” I ask, looking over at Corey.

”Uber dropped me off way at the bottom,” he answers as the other guards withdraw their weapons. ”Went in the trees on the way up.”

”You know there’s cameras everywhere right?” I ask with a smile on my face, still with the gun pointed at my own neanderthal guard.

”Well,” Corey says, still with his hands behind his head. ”It’s not like you didn’t help me piss before so it’s whatever really.”

”Corey?”

”What up?”

”You’re okay to get up now,” I inform him. He looks around for a second, realizes all the weapons that were pointed at him have been withdrawn, and stands up.

”Security around here is pretty serious,” he says with a smile as he straightens himself up. Standing up myself, I look down at the guard.

”Mr. Smith, I’m sorry,” says the guard from the ground where he laid since I put him there.

”His name is Corey, use it.”

”I’m sorry Corey,” the guard says as I toss his gun to the ground beside him.

”It’s cool,” Corey replies as he and I both head toward my car. Once inside, the gate opens allowing us to pass through.

”Next time, maybe don’t say you’re someone that wants me dead bro,” I warn him with a smile. ”They take that shit seriously.”

”I mean, that wasn’t my best decision,” Corey agrees.

A short time later, we’ve made it to the Big House and inside. Frankie of course now shadows us both. Liz on the other hand exchanges pleasant greetings and excuses herself to the residence as Corey, Frankie and myself head toward my gym. What is my gym now, was at one time my grandfathers ‘church.’ It was almost destroyed during the Ares Project’s attack on my house awhile back and it has since been rebuilt and turned into a gym, complete with a full size XWF ring. It’s an actual XWF ring I bought from Vinnie Lane about a month prior to my initial appearance as the Collector.

It was a rather wise investment on my part. It’s good to get your timing back after a layoff before you hit the ring on television. No Botchamania clips on my watch. At least not from me.

”Let’s get it on!” Frankie yells from doorway of the locker room in little baby knee pads like he’s gonna do something. He carries a bag on his shoulder that looks like it’s twice his own body weight.

”Shit he might take us both out,” Corey says to me as he laces up one of his boots.

”Frankie my son,” I say and he shoots me a crooked grin. ”You can’t be in the ring with us.”

”Afraid I’ll beat you again in front of your friend?” Frankie jokes as he struts toward us like a new Nature Boy. Emphasis on boy. Corey smiles in my direction. ”Does the XWF know how many times I beat you for...this?” he asks as he lays the bag down and pulls out my Universal title.

”What are you doing with that?” I ask as I buckle up my motocross style boots.

”Green and yellow gear?” Corey asks from his position seated on the ring apron.

”Green Bay baby,” I say, shooting him a grin of my own as Frankie hands me the title belt. Laying it beside me as I put on my other boot, Corey picks it up.

”It’s heavier than the original.”

”It’s the lion heads on the side plates, those fuckers are like two inches thick.”

Leaving the belt on the apron, Corey and I enter the ring and start crisscrossing each other as we run the ropes as a bit of a warm up. Back and forth we go, barely missing each other as we run by and bounce off. Corey is probably not quite as fast as I am, which really isn’t anything to be ashamed of. Few are to begin with, and Corey probably still isn’t 100% up to speed after what he’s suffered and worked so hard to get through over the last ten months.

Moments later, both of us slow to a stop near the center and transition immediately into a collar elbow tie up.

”So what’s this move?” Corey asks he transitions from the tie up to a rear waist lock.

”Burning hammer,” I say before I send an elbow into his face. ”Transitioned into a knee strike to the face,” I conclude as I send another elbow to his face. He releases his grip on me and staggers back a second. Reaching back, I grab him by his head and whip him over me with a snapemare, then lock in a side headlock on the mat. Corey pounds the mat in frustration.

”Don’t show frustration so quickly even if you feel it inside,” I advise him.

”It’s hard,” Corey admits. ”You’re better at this chain wrestling stuff than I am.”

”Yeah but you gotta work to your strengths, Cor, and build on your weaknesses,” I say to him as I wrench on his head a little. ”Find the inside of my elbow with your chin, then use your natural athleticism...”

To his credit, he knew where I was going with that piece of advice and kips up out of the headlock and twists himself on the mat. Maintaining a grip on my left arm, he transitions my headlock into a hammer lock, his knee squarely in the small of my back.

Admittedly, I’m a bit proud of him. I have been for quite awhile. Maybe I should tell him that.

Corey wrenches on my arm, adding pressure to my shoulder, causing me to react with a bit of a spasm just before he leaps off the mat and drives his knee into my kidney area.

Hurt a little.

Fucker.

Without a warning or much reasoning, he abandons the hammerlock and runs toward the ropes. I pop up onto my feet as he rebounds toward me and I floor him with a lariat much harder than either of us anticipated. The last several months I’ve been in the ring with guys so much larger than me and Corey is a little shit. Like 5-9 and a buck sixty. It’s a hard adjustment to make when I’ve grown so accustomed to digging deeper to damage the larger guys. Corey spins inside out and lands on his stomach.

”Owww,” he says as he kicks his feet on the mat.

”Sorry man,” I say as I clear some hair from my eyes. ”I should have pulled back a little more.”

”No, its okay,” he says as he continues lying on the mat but starts to get to his feet. As he does so, I come up behind him and lift him up into a rack position, his back across my shoulders, him staring up at the ceiling. ”Was that your plan the whole time?” he asks.

”What?”

”So you could put your hand between my legs,” he says, I can hear him smiling.

”Ha! Gay!” Frankie blurts out from the apron where he sits as he’s recording us on his phone.

”Fuck you,” I reply as I swing Corey off my shoulders, legs first, transitioning it into a brutal knee strike to his head. Corey looks at me a second and collapses on the mat.

”Thad, that was awesome!” Frankie says as he rushes into the ring.

Corey still lies on the mat.

”Okay you don’t have to oversell it Corey,” I tell him as I sit on the mat beside him, sweat dripping from my head. He doesn’t reply.

”Thad?” Frankie says as he looks down at motionless Corey. ”I think he’s sleeping.”

Looking beside me at Corey it occurs to me that I knocked him out by mistake.

Slap!

I smack him in the face and his eyes pop open. They’re glazed over and wide as he stares up at the ceiling. It takes several seconds for him to blink.

”You okay?”

Corey stays silent for a few seconds.

”You should have someone clean the ceiling,” he says as he stares upward. Frankie hands me his phone so that I can watch what happened on the video.

”Damn,” I say aloud. ”I knee’d you right in the temple. You never had a chance.”

Corey finally sits up on the mat, unintentional or not, he leans his shoulder against mine as he faces the opposite direction, likely still shaking the cobwebs from his brain. ”You gotta use that,” he says as he turns his head toward me. ”What are you gonna call it?”

In response, I merely shake my head.

”Corey do you want a Gatorade?” Frankie asks as he exits the ring.

”Do you have blue?” Corey asks as he cranes his neck to look at the boy.

”Blue is all we have, it’s the only flavors Thad likes,” he says as hops off the apron and runs sixty ninety hundred across the gym to the refrigerator in the corner.

Still leaning his shoulder against mine and now staring off toward the stained glass windows, the last remnants of my grandfathers ‘church’ for lack of a better word, Corey seems deep in thought. Either that or he’s all fogged over. Placing my chin on his shoulder, I reach up and pull the side of his head against my own forehead.

”I love you man,” I say to him as Frankie gets back to the ring and sets down a couple Gatorade’s.

He smiles slightly. ”I know bro, I love you too.”

”I’m really proud of you,” I admit to him and I really should have told him so much sooner and far more often than I do.

”Proud of me for what?”

Taking my head away from his I grab the drinks, hand him one and open my own before taking a gulp. A little bit drips out the corners of my mouth.

”A lot of things honestly,” I begin to answer. ”Not the least of which is what you’re doing with Alias.”

He turns his head to look at me.

”How was your date with him anyway?” I joke.

Corey laughs a little. ”It wasn’t a date,” replies. ”But I meant it when I said he was my weirdo.”

”I know you did.”

”If I’m not paying it forward, then I’m not truly being my best self,” he concludes a bit cryptically as he takes a swallow of his drink.

”Paying what forward?” I ask him for specifics. I can see he’s starting to get a little emotional so I let him have a second without poking him.

”What you did for me,” he begins to explain. ”No one else gave a shit in the beginning, but you. Everyone saw this young kid just being mind and body controlled by things that neither they nor I could really understand but somehow you saw through all of it and reached out to me.

“I needed a friend maybe even more than I could admit then and maybe even now and you never judged me. All you ever did was care about me. You loved me when no one else gave me the time of day and I’ll never be able to thank you properly for everything you’ve done for me.”

”Corey, I...”

”Let me finish,” he interrupts my interruption. ”I see myself in Alias. Maybe not the same set of circumstances, but no one gave him the time of day either. So I just thought that maybe all he needed was a friend too. You saved me in ways that maybe no one, not even we will ever understand entirely but Thad… If I’m not doing what I can to aid those, to befriend those that are messed up like I am, then what the hell did you save me for?”

”You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I reply to him. ”And I never look at it as ‘saving’ you, I didn’t really do anything.”

”You were my friend,” he rebuts.

”Anyone that tries to get to know you would have done the same,” I offer up.

”But they didn’t, you did,” Corey says as a tear escapes his eye. ”Do you have any idea what an unconditional friendship means to a teenage boy alone and lost in the world?”

For a moment, I look away from him and down at the ring mat, then back at him.

”I kind of do,” I answer him truthfully. He looks at me, a little perplexed. ”You see Jim and all the rest, but I was born into all of this. None of this came from people wanting to genuinely know me,” I inform him. ”Jim and I grew close, but not out of longing for friendship. At least not in the beginning. He was the leader of my protection detail when this all started. Nothing more.

“So we may have gone through different things Corey, but we’re not all that different.”

Standing up in the ring, I offer my hand to Corey and he accepts as I help him to his feet. He turns to exit the ring but I keep his hand and pull him back to me.

”You tell Alias, if he needs or wants another friend, then he’s got one in me,” I say to him before letting go of his hand.

”I’m not sure he likes you much.”

”Maybe not, but that’s his choice to make. Fact is, you’re my best friend, and a friend of yours is a friend of mine. If you trust him, then I trust him. You know as well as I do, that my friendship and loyalty doesn’t come at a price.”

”What a pretty picture,” old man D’Ville interrupts from a dark and dreary corner of the gym. Or more accurately, from the doorway leading to the backyard.

”The hell are you doing here?” I ask him with perhaps a hint of frustration.

”Doc!” Frankie shouts out excitedly as Doc comes forward and nears the ring. Frankie leaps off the apron into his arms.

”Frankie, you might make him throw out his back or something, don’t jump on the man,” I say facetiously.

”The boy weighs very little young Duke...”

”Thaddeus,” I remind him as always.

”Despite frail appearances,” he says as he shifts Frankie in his arms. ”I’m not.”

”I know, but put him down,” I instruct of D’Ville. Frankie for whatever reason likes Louis and it just makes me uncomfortable that Doc plays right into it.

”Or?”

I say nothing in response. Mufasa though has different ideas as he saunters in from the hallway and emits a loud roar.

”This again?”

”Frankie is Mufasa’s boy Doc, and I don’t think he likes you very much.”

”Does he remember?” Doc asks, referring to him killing Simba.

”Seems that way.”

”Remember what?” Frankie asks as Doc relents and sets him on the floor.

”You’ve been avoiding me,” Doc says as Corey and I exit the ring. ”Avoiding our sessions.”

”Not avoiding so much as, not really wanting to,” I say with a smack of Doc’s shoulders.

”Hey Doc, I’ve been meaning to discuss strategy with...”

Doc turns to Corey Smith and grins slightly. Corey’s lips disappear and in their place, just skin. No mouth hole. Clearly, Doc is in no mood to deal with all these damn young people. ”Young Duke you’re brushing me aside?” he asks as he returns his attention to Thad. In the background behind Doc, Corey looks annoyed as he feels around for his missing lips.

”Do you miss me Lou? Is that it?”

You know Doc. You know how he rolls his eyes without actually rolling his eyes? He just did that.

”I’m not brushing you aside Doc. But I have a major title fight at pay per view and seeing as though you have a sort of affection for young good looking guys, Corey here, fights along side you in my stead. As co-holder of the tag team titles with you… and with me.

“There will come a time for another session between us Lou. Just not right now,” I conclude as I start to take off my boots.

”That wasn’t part of the deal,” D’Ville says, outwardly irritated as he steps toward my position. Mufasa takes exception to Doc’s aggressive demeanor toward me and steps forward, giving D’Ville a warning growl. Doc looks in the lions direction and the lion is now muzzled.

”Scared?” I ask as he looks over at the lion and back at Doc. This is kind of fun, if I’m being honest. Getting under Lou’s skin humors me greatly.

”His protection, not mine,” Doc answers me standing just inches away from one of his Continuum partners.

”I don’t know what the grip is you have over the roster Doc, what’s more is I don’t really care. You don’t intimidate me. I don’t fear you. I know who and what you are...”

”Do you?”

I nod.

”I know you well enough Doc. Just do your damn job and protect those titles. Despite appearances Lou, I do have plans for them with you and with Corey so if you don’t mind, get the hell out of my house and don’t ever drop by again unannounced.”

I turn to face Doc again, but he’s gone. I look over at Corey and he’s freaking out because his mouth is still missing.

”If he’s gonna be of any help to you, you might want to give him his mouth back!” I shout out toward the ceiling.

”Fine!” D’Ville relents as he reappears in the corner of the gym.

”God dammit don’t do that shit! I’m a mouth breather!” Corey jokes with a smile. ”Okay so the burning hammer knee thingy, what are you calling it?” he asks as he returns his attention to me.

I only shrug in response.

”Adopted Grace,” Doc replies casually from the corner. He grins slightly as Corey and I look at him, then over at Frankie, now sitting on the floor petting Mufasa. Unaware of the meaning behind the proposed name, Frankie looks in my direction.

”What?”

I look back at Doc momentarily and he nods in my direction before vaporizing into thin air. Looking back at Frankie again I can’t help but smile a little.

”Is there something on my face?”

Give a man a mile, watch him shit the bed with it.

Chris, if you’re not willing to do your own homework, I sure as hell ain’t gonna do it for you. I’ve addressed the tag team titles already in these proceedings at length so I won’t address them here for any substantial amount of time. What I will do, is prove you’re a coward by using your own words against you.

You have the audacity to sit there straight faced and call me a coward for not defending both titles, not double booking myself at Snow Job when you yourself aren’t double booked? The fact is, you wanted me to double book. You wanted me to defend both titles and it’s not because you and Main did it. It’s not because you know I can and I have. Facts are facts and Chris, you can’t hide from facts. The Universal title is on the line and the entire time you two were running around beating up other tag teams and eliminating them before they even really got going, neither of you held the Universal title at the same time.

If I make this so damn easy for you Chris, then why haven’t you been able to beat me? Since the night on Savage I lost the Television title to you, why haven’t you been able to beat me? You can make all the excuses you want. You can say I made you disqualify yourself at Relentless, you can say winning a ladder match isn’t a real win- but of course, when one ladder match was all we had and it was you that won, it was a real match then wasn’t it? It was a legitimate win then, wasn’t it? But as time goes on, and the matches start piling up, and Thad Duke just keeps on winning and Chris Page just keeps on losing… none of them matter anymore because they’re not “definitive pinfalls.”

So, they’re not definitive pinfalls but they’re legitimate wins and losses. Nut up and accept that Chris. You beat me for the Television title in a ladder match. I beat you because you took the easy way out and disqualified yourself. Again, it was I that beat you in that tag ladder match at High Stakes. Your big bad self couldn’t handle the 160 pound twink that is Corey Smith and got eliminated out of the battle royal.

I won.

You didn’t.

Do something about it.

Which brings us back to my point earlier about forgoing my tag team title responsibilities. Why does it bother you when you yourself admit that I’m fully capable of double and even triple booking while still coming out victorious in any and all of them? Why does it concern you that I’m using the Freebird rule- which for the record, before you lost them, again to me, it was Lane I went to inquiring about the Freebird rule. Not Theo.

That’s what you would do if you had family in high places. Not me. Vinnie approved it so don’t fault me for utilizing the rules to my benefit when it’s not my fault that Robert Main is your only god damn friend. Speaking of Robert, we’ll see how much longer that friendship lasts once he comes back to find out that not only did you take the shot he wanted, but you also squandered your opportunity. Like you always do and you will again.

Again, what does whatever I choose to do or not do with the tag team championships concern you? I’ll answer it for you because the answer is plain as god damn daylight: you know I’m a double champion. You challenged me for the Universal title which I readily accepted and you thought I’d have a match earlier in the night to defend the tag titles which in your mind, would’ve given you a rather large advantage heading into the main event because I would have had to split my focus between tag title opponents and you. But I’m not defending them and now you’re pissed off because you know as well as I do that you just don’t have it in you to put me down. You don’t have it in you to beat me. There’s nothing wrong with that and there’s no shame in being unable to beat me. I mean, I am pretty damn good at this shit.

You’re pissed off that I’m not defending the tag team titles because that was your only fucking shot at successfully taking my Universal title. That’s it. Period. Fin.

You can sit there and throw your little hissy fits and tantrums because I have one match and you have one match. I don’t really care. Whatever people think of me, whatever they think of the outcome of the battle royal, I’m still the Universal champion. I’ll still be the Universal Champion on February One. And if there’s anyone that doesn’t like it...

Thad grins a little.

You.

Chaos.

All the rest.

You can all line up and get on your knees.

Speaking of Chris Chaos, I accused him of ripping off your material. I was right. The only bullshit you’ve been spewing is the same old shit he was spewing back in December. Just with the volume turned up. By now, I think we all know how well that turned out for the challenger.

You remember back on Warfare before High Stakes? You remember your little challenge to me when you said you were giving me a shot at the only thing that makes you relevant? In the promos for High Stakes, do you remember when I told you that it wasn't Robert Main that made you relevant? You remember me telling you that it wasn’t the tag team titles that made you relevant?

Of course you do.

The only thing that makes Chris Page relevant, is Thaddeus Duke. He’s been riding my jock since damn near the minute I came back. Enjoy the rest of the ride Chris. Just like any ride, they always end eventually and Snow Job is where you get off and your ride ends.

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