"Last week on Savage, I made my return. Teamed with an old friend of mine, Brian Storm and took on Job Ber Too and Tre. Our efforts were rewarded with a solid fuckin' victory. An outcome that wasn't a surprise nor was it dumb luck. Nah. That win came as predicted as the fate of a lit blunt in my hand. Sure as shit that blunt is gettin' smoked. There isn't another reality where that wouldn't happen. Just like there wasn't another scenario that saw our opponents walking outta Savage Saturday Night, victorious. And that ain't cockiness, it is an actual fact. That wouldn't happen. Not in this life time or a million others that followed it, would those two mongoloids ever do anything, besides lower the standards of society by merely being considered a part of it. If they were animals... someone's pet maybe, they would have been thrown in a sack and drown in a well or tossed into a large body of water, long ago. Or abandoned and immediately picked up by a shelter, that would then kill them. Regardless if that was the policy of the shelter or not. They would still suffer that fate, only the anti-cruelty shelter would convince themselves that they were putting the unfortunate creatures, out of their misery. A mercy murder. In the end, the road would always stop in the same spot. Death. Sorta makes ya wanna set up a GoFundMe page for the Job Ber clan, one that sees them getting sent to Switzerland, so they can go to Dignitas - the euthanasia clinic for humans. Either that or lead them to the top of a really tall cliff and fling off cookies, till they leap to their doom. Both ways get the job done but the latter is definitely cheaper, so realistically speaking... it's a far more viable option."


"Anyway, on the next edition of Warfare, I've been scheduled to take on Gary Gable, the 'God of Grapple' himself, Double G and Big D. Now I gotta be honest, I don't really know an awful lot about these guys. Nothing past the fact that they're wrestlers and both of them are participating in War Games. Gary is a returning wrestler that doesn't have much of a history and Daniel is new to the company, with a small collection of matches that he's previously taken part in. This comin' Saturday Daniel is due to face Lux for the Television title, a fight that he'll more than likely lose. Nothing against dude, that's just the safe bet to make. Based on Lux and his/her history in the company. Much like it's a plausible assumption that Big D will lose War Games, in spite of being his team's optimistic and encouraging captain. Grounded on the fact that his team is an utter shit show. He could be the best captain in the fucking world but if his boat is full of useless, dead weight, sacks of crap and human shaped anvils, his boat is going down. Sinking straight to the bottom of the ocean, with no hope of recovery and he's drowning right with them cause he's tethered to the entire lot."


"Only a delusional, fucktard would believe anything different. Someone that isn't even slightly in touch with reality. A real eye opener when ya consider that Big D is that man. On the outside, one would assume that dude wasn't a lunatic but then, you take into account the folks he willingly allotted positions on his team and you realize, he's one step away from eating paste and talking to inanimate objects. The sorta guy that probably has a live in mental health aid, to stop him from being a danger to himself and make sure that he's taking his medication as mandated by the state, per an agreement that allows him to live outside of a psych ward. I bet this guy woulda given spots to his stuffed animal friends, if the XWF let him but since that wasn't an option, he chose the next best thing. Then he skipped home and told Mr. Fluffy Bunny, all about it, while having a tea party."


"And this is one of my opponents for Warfare. Wow. That really puts things into perspective. At least Gary is there to even things out..."


"The God of Grapple."


"Gary Gable."


"Soldier on the front line for Team: Deacon."


"The man that's been back for a whole month and did absolutely nothing."


"Will he show up for our match? Who knows? That's part of his mystique though. He could show up or he could simply disappear again. You don't know what this man might do, he's unpredictable and a real, epitome of a wild card like that. Kinda like playing Russian Roulette or gambling, without the thrill or excitement. He either shows up or he doesn't. Come to think of it... he might not even be a real person. Has anyone ever seen this man wrestle? Or do anything in front of a camera? I know when you do some research on him, you discover that he's a returning wrestler but other than that, there isn't any evidence of his existence. Nothing that I could find. He's never made any type of impact in the terms of wrestling. Doesn't have a title history. Which means that he never won a title. Ever. I sure as fuck don't remember him from any previous time that I wrestled. There's a picture included in his very limited set of records but there's no real proof that the picture is even him. He could be a super-intelligent hamster that learned how to operate a computer and simply contacts the XWF via email, for all I know. Sounds bat shit crazy but is there any authentication otherwise? If there is... I don't know of it. I'm also fairly certain, neither does anybody else and that includes every single general manager, employed within the federation."


"So those are my opponents for Warfare... and I can't decide if this means that the powers that be... really, really want me to go on to face the Hart champion... or if I'm being punished?"




When I put out an ad for additional help at my shop, I wasn't really sure what to specifically expect, besides mechanically inclined individuals that were seeking employment. Still, this was all kinda new for me, being that I was never in a position to hire someone before. I've worked in shops in the past and know this type of skill better than the back of my own hand but I never ran my own business. At first, it seemed simple enough, I mean I had a steady stream of customers and I was still able to manage running things while keepin' up the daily operations. After a while though, it started to become very apparent that I needed help.


Work was pickin' up quick. Especially, when word of mouth hit, that I was the best damn mechanic that you could hire, in all of New York. That's not an elaboration or my ego talking, it's the truth. I am the best. If I can't fix something, it isn't able to be repaired. Well, that fact began to spread and literally, over night it was like a wild fire had sprung and ripped through the arid, dry atmosphere of California. Only in New York and without the destruction of a fiery blaze. Still shit got outta control fast. Soon, I had more business than I could handle and with it, came the realization that I had to acknowledge the fact that I needed help, by placing an advertisement in the classified section of the local newspaper.


Within twenty four hours, I already had a number of candidates that seemed interested in the position. Each had an impressive skill set and a vast knowledge of auto mechanics. A good majority came with admirable recommendations, noteworthy resumes and even degrees. Yet there was always something that didn't sit right with me. It's not that I was overly picky or holding 'em to a standard that no one could live up to. It's just in this industry, you spend a lot of time with the folks you work with and there should be a type of connection and understanding, that can sometimes go unspoken. Things should function like a well oiled machine. You should be able to be on the same page with someone, without givin' them a ton of guidance, direction or explaining aspects that need to be handled. They should have the capability to look at projects and know what needs to be done, without being told or even asked, in some cases. Depending on how busy things got. That's how I've always operated, it's not too much to ask that my employees have the same work ethic, comprehension and mentality.


Theoretically.


Needless to say findin' that was not proving to be easy. Part of me was wondering if maybe I was being too critical. At the same time, I've always known to trust my gut instinct and right now, it was telling me that I was correct in my initial thought. That my expectations weren't too high and the accurate fit existed out there somewhere. This was simply the frustrations of owning a shop and bein' the boss. An aspect that was brand new to me, so naturally when things didn't pan out in the manner that I preferred and that pattern persisted, I would start to doubt myself and second guess. Deep down, I knew caving wasn't the answer because then I'd be stuck with someone working for me that couldn't hack it. Not in the way that I felt wasn't only necessary, but a major priority. When stuff got busy and hectic, this person had to be adept enough to fly forward without confusion. Even when I wasn't there to instruct them.


Unfortunately, my search was only destined to become even more difficult, when Lila asked if I could watch Grey. She had to work and her sitter fell through. While an auto shop wasn't an ideal place for a small child, she was only going to be gone for a few hours and my main activity for the day was interviewing prospective employees. So I agreed to take on the responsibility. After all, Grey was only a year old, toss him in a playpen with toys and he's set for the day. I wasn't concerned that any issues would arise and as the day progressed, there weren't any problems. Everything seemed to work out smoothly, without a hitch. Despite the revolving door of disappointments that I met with, from a purely babysitting perspective, it was all comin' up aces.


Little did I know... that was all about to change.


I was involved in an interview with a guy by the name of Decker Hollis.




Hands down this man was not the type of guy that should be working in a field that required an individual to pay attention, focus or steadily work on a singular task, at all. Don't get me wrong, he had talent. He was also a funny guy and there was an instant repertoire and chemistry between us but at the same time, he was all over the place. Flighty as fuck, with zero direction and the attention span of someone with adhd, that was also experiencing the aftermath of snorting a couple of fat lines of llello. Not that he was super hyper in his actions but when he spoke, he talked about a mile, a minute and seemed to get lost or switch the course of his topics, fairly quickly. A lot of what he said seemed unnecessary and he wound up doing more than a fair amount of backtracking during our discussion, in order to return to his original points. Although, he didn't catch onto this factor right off the bat, which gave the conversation an undeniable wayward sensation. Like a car veering and wavering on a road, during a journey that saw it traveling four miles out of the way, to reach a destination that was only a mile off.


After talking to him for awhile, I decided he wasn't going to make the cut. However... because he was a nice guy and far more entertaining than the other folks that I interviewed beforehand, I was having a slight difficulty, relaying this information. Ultimately that hesitation of words was the best thing I could have done. I'm not sure what would have happened if I didn't stall what I considered to be the inevitable. All I know is that I heard giggling and turned around, at the precise instant that Grey, climbed out of his playpen. Simultaneously, as this occurred a car came pulling into my shop, headed straight for him. Since Grey is tiny, his head didn't make it into the driver's line of sight, so the man didn't know to hit the breaks.


And yet, his car didn't slam into Grey.


Instead it stopped in its tracks, with its wheels still spinning and smoke picking up from the rubber on the tires, burnin' against the concrete, due to an unknown oppressive force halting the car's movements. Swiftly picking up Grey, I turned to Decker and couldn't help but smirk, when I noticed that he had his hand raised. Decker might be scatterbrained and silly but at that moment, when circumstances were dire, he was on fucking point and acted without delay. Seriously. That reaction time was far above average. Which I guess made sense, considering how swiftly his focus and thoughts seemed to shift. Lowering his hand, Decker merely grinned and shrugged.


"Guess I shoulda mentioned that I'm an advanced human."


"Yeah? Is that right? What can you do?"


"In a nutshell. Generate, control and manipulate magnetism, in all its forms and affect any matter or material that is magnetic. There's probably a better more in depth way to describe that and I'm leaving out specifics but that's the basic idea."


"Holy fuckin' shit dude, that's the perfect collection of powers to have when working in an auto shop, especially this one cause I specialize in the classics. In other words, vehicles that are actually constructed from metal. Opposed to the cheap plastic, garbage that they build most stuff from, nowadays. When can you start?"


"Tomorrow?"


He looked shocked, probably because most people aren't inclined to accept advanced humans. Society often viewed 'em as freaks and weirdos. Lucky for him I wasn't like most folks. On top of being a living weapon, he wasn't even the strangest guy that I knew. Not by a long shot.


"Then I'll see ya tomorrow man. 10am work for you?"


"Yeah."


"Awesome. I'll see you then."