It had been longer than a year since Aidan Collins last competed in a wrestling ring. His last appearance, at PDW’s Reckless Endangerment II, ended very poorly for Da Bliz. While Aidan had some initial success within the confines of the lower Platinum Chamber, the action eventually spilled upwards into the upper chamber. After Aidan knocked TJ Jones to the ground with a baseball bat, Inferno hit Aidan in the head with a pipe and hit a Human Destroyer on Aidan through a hole in the chamber and down 15 feet to the ring below. Why? Because Inferno is a dick that does mean things for no reason.

Unable to brace himself, Aidan took much of the fall’s impact straight to his forehead. He was knocked out immediately and declared unable to continue the bout.

Initially, after waking up in the hospital one week later, Aidan was enraged. How dare they declare him unable to continue. Who cares if he wasn’t conscious, he could have won that shit! He hadn’t been pinned and he definitely had not submitted. In all likelihood, if he hadn’t been unfairly declared eliminated, his natural instincts as the greatest wrestler in the history of the entire fucking world would have kicked in. That match was good as won for Da Bliz. He was only in a light coma.

Aidan gave more thought to the matter, though, and over time came up with a new conclusion:

Fuck wrestling.

While the fall at REII did not injure him seriously, that shit really hurt. If Aidan were a little unluckier, he could have done some damage to his handsome face. Winning a professional wrestling title was not worth hurting the moneymaker.

It wasn’t as if Aidan couldn’t find things to occupy his time.

Aidan had a deep bank account, access to pounds of the world’s finest bud, and a blackbook with more names than the North Dakota state census. He could spend the rest of his days getting really high and spreading thighs. Smoking bongs and taking down thongs. Toking j’s and spreading his glaze. Shit would be dope.

And, for a long time, that shit was dope. Aidan kept his dick wetter than Peter Gilmour’s penis-shaped waterbed and maintained a constant high that would make Snoop Dogg like a straight edge bitch.

After 9 months, however, Aidan started feeling a foreign feeling. It wasn’t quite boredom but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He wasn’t unhappy but there was just something missing.

Aidan decided to visit a life coach that a close personal friend, Kanye West, had recommended to him. Bliz wasn’t sure what he’d take out of the visit but trusted Kanye’s judgment. He seemed like a pretty level-headed and grounded guy. Aidan met with the life coach the next week.

Vipin Raja had been born in a small village in India or some shit but gained a reputation in among Manhattan’s elite 50 years later for being able to read the human spirit like no other. He had the wisdom of many elephants and wore a brightly colored outfit that Aidan thought was hilarious.

The life coach, who previously advised Alex Rodriguez and Toronto Mayor Tom Ford, had a simple approach in analyzing Aidan’s foreign feeling.

The lingering uneasiness, according to Vipin, was Aidan’s body telling him that he wasn’t doing his best to explore what made him happiest. If Aidan were going to be completely fulfilled, he would need to do what he thought to be most important for him in the long run. His shakras were all , or something along those lines.

Aidan asked himself what was most important to him. After much internal deliberation, he came up with a singular explanation.

Legacy. Aidan cared about his legacy.

Everyone dies, that’s a fact. When you’re gone, your memory can live on… but only if you’ve done enough to earn it.

Aidan Collins will always be remembered as a professional wrestler. It was his first profession and it will always be the one he is most associated with. When people browse his Wikipedia article in 2150 through a government implanted information chip, they will read about his exploits as a wrestler. Sure, there might be a few paragraphs about the actresses he boned, his loaded bank account, and his general awesomeness… but at the end of the day, he will be remembered for how great of a wrestler he was.

It stood to reason that he should return to the ring. Winning matches, titles, and generally making every other wrestler in the world look like shit quickly became his number one priority. Bliz would venture back to his home in wrestling, the XWF, and re-establish himself as the most dominant wrestler in XWF history.

His second highest priority? To spread his amazing genes.

For a long time, the thought of impregnating a female absolutely mortified Aidan. Aidan did not want to have to deal with a baby momma getting all up in his shit. He did not want to spend money on child support. He did not want all that responsibility.

That’s not to say that he protected himself to the greatest extent possible. He definitely fucked plenty of bitches without a rubber but he would slip Plan B into their breakfast if he wasn’t too high to remember. Also, it turns out that plenty of modern sluts are on birth control. It’s a wonderful world we now live in.

As great as Earth can be, it’s a statistical fact that there is only one Aidan Collins. Sure, there are plenty of pretenders that wish they were Aidan Collins. They don’t come close to the real thing, though.

Planet Earth needs more people like Aidan Collins. Could you imagine if this bitch was just filled with nerds like Mark Flynn? That would be horrible.

Aidan, for the betterment of all, needs to start breeding.

Coming to these two realizations immediately made Aidan feel better. In order to solve a problem, you need to identify it, and Aidan felt like he did a good job of doing that.

Fixing those problems had become the battle.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The “Really High Gym” is located on the 75th floor of a building located in Manhattan’s financial district. It is an Olympic grade facility built to accommodate some of the greatest athletes in the world. Ricky Williams trained there before rejoining the NFL and Tim Lincecum’s primary offseason workout takes place there, as well. It’s a gorgeous facility, with all four sides of the floor surrounded with ultra-clear glass. When you combine that with a very open floor plan, it truly feels that you’re on top of the world while training there. You can’t do any better for training in the middle of a major city.

The 74th floor of the building houses a Michelin-level restaurant, changing room, and lounge. It is connected to the 75th floor via private elevator which keeps out all the loser ‘normals’ not worth the clienteles’ motherfucking time. None of the Mets could show up and Peyton Manning’s eligibility has been revoked after that disaster of a Super Bowl.

Basically, you aren’t getting in this bitch unless you’ve proven that you’re at the top level of sports. Obviously, Aidan Collins can do as he pleases there, as the greatest living athlete in this universe.

Once Aidan realized he wanted to get back into wrestling, he called up a close and personal friend, Michael, to help him train. His friend, a professional athlete that recently retired, agreed as long as Aidan took him out to get laid on the weekends. That way things would be an equivalent exchange. Aidan knew it would be easy to set up Mike with some slutty 8s that would look like 10s after getting drunk.

That’s exactly where Aidan found himself on a pleasant, clear afternoon. With his 2 hour workout nearing its conclusion, Aidan felt high from the onset of post-workout endorphins rushing into his system. He also felt really high from smoking a shit ton of White Kush.

At this time, it would probably be prudent to mention that the Really High Gym has heavily incorporated marijuana into its training regimen. It’s based on a method developed in Matthew McConaughey’s basement. The machines are specially designed to blow smoke into your face as you “pull” and at all hours the place is boxed out.

The Really High Gym is physically high in the air, only accepts highly talented clientele, and everyone inside is really fucking high. It’s meant for the highest of the high getting high while they’re high. It’s hype as shit, bro.

“Heart's on fire, strong desire” the facilities speakers blared out. At all times, 24 hours a day and 7 days a week, the gym played the music from Rocky Training montages. “Heart's on fire, fever's risin'… high!” Suffice to say, Aidan would get turnt as a motherfucker while training there.

Aidan sat at a lat pulldown machine while Michael spotted him by holding a lit blunt ready. After each rep, Michael would hold out the blunt and Aidan would take a quick toke before engaging in the next rep. It was a process designed to get the repper ripped while they repped so that they would get ripped.

Aidan pulled down on the bar with enough force to tear the roof off a bitch, and pulled in enough weed to clear the blunt in ten rips. He was the SuperBlazed SuperMan.

“Damn, man, I don’t know how you do it,” exclaimed Michael Phelps. “I thought I was the shit after winning so many gold medals in the Olympics but you’ve truly proven yourself to be the best of all time of any time!”

Aidan, having finished his last set of his final exercise, stood up. “Thanks, man, it means a lot. You’re a great athlete in your own right. Maybe not as good as me, but better than anyone else and the best swimmer in the world. Lucky for you, my giant dong creates too much drag in the pool for me to challenge you in the pool. It’s like swimming with an anchor.”

Michael picked up a bong that had been lying nearby and took a major pull, blowing the smoke into the air. “I don’t know how you’re able to fight dudes for a living. That’s some Chuck Norris shit. Do you think I could ever be a champion pro wrestler?”

“Yeah, sure.” Aidan lied through his teeth. Michael’s giant monkey arms had an impressive wingspan for swimming but anyone with jits could apply an armbar to this goofy high fuck and snap his arm like a goddamn Slim Jim. There was no sense in being honest to Michael and breaking his spirit, though.

“So Aidan,” Michael continued, “are we going to go out and nail some sluts this weekend?”

“I have to take a rain check, Mike, on the slut nailing. I’m about to make a very important announcement in front of America. I will owe you one, I guess.”

“Oh.” Mike seemed disappointed that Bliz wouldn’t be able to be his wingman. “What are you going to announce?”

“Well, I don’t want to spoil anything but I’ll put it this way: I intend to impregnate 100 women who will birth me 100 children by the end of 2015,” Aidan said, completely spoiling everything.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Michael paused. “Hey, Bliz…” he trailed off, not knowing how to ask something personal. “Do you ever get like a -really- itchy crotch sometimes after banging a ton of sluts?”

“That’s a sexually transmitted disease, Michael. You probably have crabs. It’s kind of fitting since you’re practically the king of the sea but you probably want to get that checked out by a doctor before one of the son of a bitches climbs up your peehole and bites your dick on the inside.”