I was almost finished replacin' a carburetor on a white, 2016 Buick LaCrosse, when I heard someone amble into my shop. Being that I was under the hood, I couldn't get a look at their face, so I kinda just paused for a second and listened. Heavy steps, shuffled about a bit, like the person was looking around. When I seen their boots align with my visual perspective, from where I was hunched over under the hood of the Buick, I gave a shout.


"Hang on a sec man, I'll be right with ya."


"It's okay. No rush."


Securing the new carburetor in place, I got out from under the hood and slammed it down, only to reveal my partner for the next edition of Saturday Night Savage, Brian Storm. Dude looked like he just crawled out of a fuckin' cave or some shit. And then fought his way through an overgrown forest. Just to get to my shop. Fact o' the matter is that my place of business is located in the city. Like deep in the city. Ain't any forests or caves, near here. What in the holy hell happened to this guy? Do I even wanna know? Better leave that question off the table, if he supplies the information... cool, if not... then I won't ask. Sometimes things are better left unknown anyway. In my life, this is something I've come to know, abundantly well. Especially workin' in the XWF.


Now, I gotta be straight here, I knew this guy before he joined the federation. From way back in the day actually. Back when I was just a young, dumb ass kid, runnin' the streets of Chicago. Me and this guy got pinched a few times together, by Five-O. Always doing stupid shit that me and my older brother, Reese got him into. The last time I seen this dude, I was nineteen and we were locked up in the joint. Right before the guy in the black suit came through and offered me a way out. An option that I willingly went along with and that lead to my many years of loyal servitude to The Order, before Azrael Erebus did me a solid and helped me sever ties. Thus granting me, my freedom.


So it's been a minute since I seen Brian, a little weird that he's a wrestler in the XWF now. That's some outta left field type of shit. He doesn't have a clue about the life I've led since we last seen each other and I intend to keep it that way. No one needs to learn of the horrors that I've seen... and the stuff I've done, they need to know that even less. Still this should be an interesting reunion of sorts. Brian was a decent guy when I knew him, he just had an unfortunate taste in friends and who he kept company with cause my brother and I weren't doin' this dude, any favors. Good to see he isn't still locked up behind bars, unlike Reese.


"Brian fuckin' Storm, what's up man? How you been?"


As I walk over to Brian, I fire up a cigarette, taking a drag while I clasp a handshake with him. The kind where you grab onto their hand and pull 'em into you for a kind of hug, without fully embracing the other person. Followed up by the one arm pat.


"I'm good. Living in Sewanee, Tennessee. With the family and my hound Lily."


"Shit. The whole clan? Danny, Patrick and Andy Kat?"


Exhaled cloud of smoke.


"Momma too."


"That's cool man. Sewanee, Tennessee. I've been to a lot of places, can't say I ever ventured there though."


"It's nice. Plenty of space and room to breathe, lots of land for Lily to explore and run around. Not a lot of people. Folks that do live there are friendly. We protect are own around those parts. Know what I'm saying?"


"Yeah, I can gather what you're sayin'? In other words you don't call police, you handle your shit, your damn self."


Brian nodded and pulled out a pouch of tobacco. Midnight Special. Regular. Then he retrieved a pack of papers and started fixing himself a cigarette, tearing a sheet out of the pack of papers, pouring a bit of tobacco on it, licking the adhesive edge and rolling it up, all in one fluid motion.


"Right on. I can't handle small time towns, myself. Respectively they can't handle me either. Even if that wasn't the case, I'd be losing my mind, crawling up a wall, if I was living in a place like that but it's nice you found a spot that suits you, man."


"Awww... you need to come through sometime, you'll see it's great. I'll break out the whiskey, we'll shoot some guns, maybe get a good game of Texas hold 'em going."


"Get drunk and shoot guns."


"That's the best way to do it."


"How 'bout we call that idea a maybe and revisit the subject on a later date. I mean, yeah I can see rolling through for a visit, no doubt. I just have a lot going on, right now. Beyond the realms of wrestling."


"Got a lot of cars you're working on?"


"I have a decent amount of those, what I'm referring to... well, it's more domestic kinda shit."


"Women troubles."


"Nah. More like sortin' shit out. There was some issues but we're working on them. That plus this place and helping a couple friends of mine, with a side project of sorts. It's all time consuming but when I get a free moment, I'll definitely think about planning a trip to Sewanee, Tennessee."


"Cool. Hey, since I'm here, do you think I can ask you for a favor?"


"Whatcha need?"


"I drove down here in my truck and about three quarters of the way, it started making this crazy noise and vibrating. Do you think you could take a look at it?"


"You got it with you right, you drove it here?"


"Yes."


"Then yeah, pull it on in and I'll take a looksee."


"Awesome. Thank you."


Doing an about face, Brian hurried out of the shop, to fetch his truck. While he was on that mission, my phone rang. I took a pull off my cigarette and hopped up on a nearby workbench, answering my cell shortly after that.


"Hey, Griffin."


"What's up, Lila. How'd your meeting with mein Führer go?"


"Good. As good as can be expected, I guess."


"And?"


"He said that he was going to provide and help out."


"Annd?"


"He said that he'll make an effort and be around for his son but that's it. Whatever happened between us, it was only that one time thing. Which I told him that I realized and I felt the same way but I was also glad that he wanted to be a part of his kid's life. Especially, since I don't know the first thing about werewolves, so I'd be clueless when it came to certain aspects, when it came to raising one."


"Annnd?"


"I told him that you and I, are working things out and that you'll be around. As not only a part of my life but a part of Grey's life, as well."


"What was his reaction to that?"


"Well, he made a face, that sort of half annoyed, half exasperated expression, that he used to get, when he was dealing with John Madison's hijinx. But then he said he understood and that it didn't bother him because obviously, I'm free to see whoever I want."


"It didn't bother him. Christ on a cracker. That fuckin' guy."


Sigh, smoke seeped through my nose as I ran a hand back through my hair. Recently, I cut it and not having that mop on my head, still feels strange.


"I suppose that's the best response he could give. Not like he has a say in the matter but it's good to know my presence doesn't bother him. I'd hate to make the guy preaching mass genocide uncomfortable."


Another sigh.


"Whatever. I ain't going to waste my breath bitchin' about him. Are you okay? After all that, I mean. In general too."


"Yeah, I'm okay. I got an invite to Abigail's funeral. It's kinda weird that the first time I get to meet my brothers, will be at a wake."


"Oh shit. That's right. I got one of those too. Should we maybe go together? Is that a thing that we should do?"


"Yes, absolutely. That would make me feel, a million more times, less awkward. I shouldn't feel that way but I do and I'd hate to project that sort of thing."


"Alright. Consider it a set plan of action then."


That's when Brian's truck pulled into my shop and he jumped out. With a dog closely following behind him. A dog that he referred to as Lily.




"Yo, Jobber Too and Tre. You both are meetin' me and my boy, Brian Storm in the ring, tomorrow night. Should make for a fun night. Hope you guys like parties cause we're fixin' to throw a boot party on your fuckin' useless asses. The only two schmucks more pathetic than the combination of Rain and Snow. If you were any more worthless, than you already are, you'd be in a coma."


"Since you busted out on the scene you've done nothing but suck the life outta this industry. Turn it into a joke, a mockery of something that should be considered sacred. Tomorrow night, you'll pick up another loss for your collection and then Brian and I will move on like nothing happened. The momentary impact that you have on our lives will be marginal at best. Nothing you say or do will effect us in the slightest. You're at minimum, less than a foot note in the epic novel that is our outstanding careers in this company. Brian is on a fast track to the top and I'm probably the most ruthless, aggressive fighter that this industry has been blessed with counting as a wrestler."


"There ain't anyone in this federation that will go to the limits that I will, and all in the name of entertainment. You'd do best to remember that, when you're standin' on the opposite end of the ring from me. Throwing beat downs and boot parties isn't just a hobby o' mine, it's a way of life. I'm not simply saying that either. This isn't me blowing smoke up your asses. Brawling is in my blood, it's in my veins and when you witness me fight, that becomes very obvious. Anyone that watches me wrestle, can plainly see that I put my all into the match. Each and every fight is a fucking work of art. I love the thrill of the fight and it shows. Which is why your existence is so infuriating. You barely skate through life and when you climb into that ring, it's a joke. You're not serious competitors, you guys are like the Stooges, out there. And tomorrow night will prove to be no different."


"You best have an ambulance on standby though cause you're gonna need it. After Brian and I get done with ya, you'll be in no condition to be makin' any calls. You'll be lucky if you don't choke on your own damn tongues, let alone be counted among the conscious and coherent. And I doubt anyone will be rushing to see you saved. Most folks will be more inclined to simply put ya both outta your misery. Long before they go out of their way to save your god awful, worthless, loser asses. Just a word to the wise, y'know if you care to survive the night."