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Thomas Nixon · (05-12-2017)

Nixon is in his street clothes, a gray V-neck shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. A new accessory, the XWF Television Championship, is draped over his right shoulder.

“What a night! What a time to be alive!” Thomas Nixon whispers to himself as he limps through the doorway into his hotel room. There is no use in hiding the injuries that he obtained in his championship match earlier that night. With that being said, Nixon chose not to stay in. He returned to his hotel room earlier, bringing back his gear and fielding a congratulatory phone call from one of his lizard kin, before he headed down to the bar.

Although he doesn’t typically drink, tonight was a special occasion for Thomas. He one back an important prize, and he didn’t have anybody behind him pulling the strings. There wasn’t anybody nagging him to keep focused; he didn’t have to answer to Richard Singer anymore.

After enjoying some hard liquor and addressing some polite fans, reality came crashing down. Unfortunately, it was one of the many nights that Nixon had to take care of an unpleasant chore that lead to an exchange something like this.

“Can you do me a solid and send a girl up to room 803 in about fifteen minutes?” Nixon asked a rugged man that looks like he has no business in a high end hotel. As per usual, the man’s eyes lit up.

“Blonde or brunette? How old? How does 18 sound?” The man whispers under his breath, trying to make some extra money by offering an ’18 year old’ that’s probably well under age.

At the moment, Nixon would have loved to kill the man. He’s a scumbag that has no right living on this Earth, especially in this country, while perfectly well meaning lizards are being stripped of their rights. Instead of slicing his throat, he said “How about a blonde that’s around thirty. That’ll do it for me.” Then he reached for the man’s outstretched hand and paid him off.

Now, the digital clock on the nightstand reads 2:48, and Thomas Nixon is preparing for another ceremonial slaying.

“Damn it, Tom, I wish I didn’t have to do this.” He muttered to himself, as he unveiled a large blade. “But we have to. It’s the only way. Look on the bright side, she’s thirty, if she’s in this business her life’s probably miserable. She can’t go back and get an education, and she’s probably suffering from drug addiction. I’m really putting her out of her misery. And without this ingredient, well, I wouldn’t be able to keep fighting the system.”

Nixon looks at his reflection in the blade and shrugs. It’s a necessary evil.

* * *

“Mezian? He’s a newcomer in the XWF. He’s been around for maybe a month or. I checked his file, he’s coming off a big win, well at least his most notable victory thus far. He beat Barney Green on last week’s episode of Savage, and it was a rather decisive victory.

It feels like yesterday when I was in the ring with Barney Green. I matched up against Green, Jakob Davis, and ‘Broken Hart’ in an elimination match for the belt that I’m holding now. I pinned every single one of them in clean in the middle of the ring, and I walked out with my first ever championship. In that moment, I validated my talent and the fans truly bought into me. I set myself from the pack, and I made myself more than just another guy.

So I expect that you want the same thing out of your first XWF title shot. You aren’t going to walk into the ring with your typical mind set; you’ll be praying backstage for your shot at a coming out party. I don’t blame you at all.

You’ve got a championship on the line and you’re coming up against a rather established XWF superstar. This is your chance to dive head first into the title scene! You’re coming into the main event for the first time since your MMA days! That’s the opportunity that you spend your sleepless nights thinking about.

At first glance, I good see people placing their bets on Mezian. He has great potential as an underdog in the betting room. I mean, the TV Championship hasn’t lasted longer than a week on the last two champs. It seems like Tidbits and Imperial both got caught up in their victory. They were so absorbed in the fact that they were champion that they didn’t put in the time and effort required to hold onto the belt.

Unfortunately for you, Mezian, I know what it takes to hold onto this belt. Last time, I defended the belt several times, retaining against rising stars as well as a former Universal Champion. It took Jim Caedus to beat me, and he obviously went on to take the top prize in this company.

And I’m not living the high life after my big win. Sure, I had a drink or two, and I enjoyed the moment, but reality has a way of getting my attention. After one night, I’m done with the honeymoon phase. I can still see the world around me in all of its vibrant colors; I’m not blind to competition.

I heard your sentiments loud and clear. You’re coming in to our match with the intention of taking this belt home. You have a fire in your eyes that shows your burning desire to be recognized as a champion. But that burning flame is a distraction; it’s stopping you from seeing whats right in front of your face!

You see, I don’t need to get lucky and hope that you get in some accident on the interstate because I’m not one of the chumps you used to get paid two hundred dollars to fight. I’m a world class competitor. I’ve fought men and women from around the globe that have the same passion that you have, but I’ve battled on and winded up as a two time television champion!

You aren’t going to tap me out in two minutes with a choke hold. I’m not some amateur that is wandering around the regional mixed martial arts scene! I wrestle in front of tens of thousands of people, with millions more at home, and I’ve honed my craft over the last six months. So go ahead and compare this opportunity to one of your title fights from back in the day, but there’s no way in hell that they fought you tooth and nail like I will.

I may come off as some clean cut baby face, a man that fights for good in a world of evil, but I don’t give a goddamn inch when I’m in the ring. I’m not some goody two shoes, pansy ass, pushover. I find ways to capitalize on the slightest mistakes, and I take advantage of my opponent’s weaknesses. I’m a scrapper, and you’ll learn that sooner or later. That sets me apart from the ‘competition’ you faced in your long gone days as champion.

But before I sign off, I want to reiterate an earlier point. I’m listening to you, Mezian. I hear your words, and I know that you aren’t fooling around when you say that you “will not stop” until you have the championship. That you will either “walk out with the belt or die trying”. I believe that you’re one hundred percent serious.

That’s just a challenge to me. You’re asking, “Hey, Nixon? You got game? I’m coming in firing on all cylinders and you better be ready!” And my response is typical, “Bring it on, motherfucker.”

To you, this match is an opportunity, but there are two sides to the story. I need to start off my reign strong. I need to show that my big return win last week was not a fluke. I need to remind all the fans at home that my cause is the most important social issue on Earth.

I have motivation to duke it out with you, and I'm probably more invested in retaining this belt than you are into prying it from my dead hands. There's a reason I roll out of bed every morning, work my ass off, and beat the tar out of guys like you. There's a reason I can look at myself in the mirror despite the things I've seen and the things that I've done. It's to make a statement. It's to defend the people I love. That's what got me this belt.

So if you want to live and die by your words, like any real man should, I hope you come in with the passion that you claim to have. I’ll give you a fight, and I’ll make you eat those words. I’m not anything like the chumps you fought in the D-Leagues. I’m a champion in the XWF, the biggest company in the world, so after I rattle your skull, you can think again about this being your big break.”

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