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Thaddeus Duke · (09-07-2021)

Ratliff Stadium || Odessa, Texas || 12:44 AM Local Time

Victory.

It’s all that matters.

How it was accomplished, means nothing.

The fact that it happened… that’s what matters.

Tonight was the XWF’s night behind enemy lines at OCW Under The Lights. Betsy Granger retained her OCW Transatlantic Championship. Them No Good Bastards retained their tag belts because of course they did. Me? I defeated a mountain of a man named BRIM to lay claim to OCW’s Savage Championship. He’ll belly up to the excuse table like he always does. Theo this, Thaddeus that, but the fact of the matter is real fucking simple: I will obtain victory by any mean necessary.

Theo Pryce 100% interfered in my match. Maybe its underhanded, maybe its considered cheating. But I ran out of fucks to give when those slimy pieces of dog shit fans turned their backs on me. If you’re not willing to do whatever it takes to secure victory, then you’re in the wrong game. Not so long ago, his involvement in the outcome of my match would have infuriated me. Now? If I’m being honest with myself, it fills me with pride.

The taste of victory is an addicting flavor and my uncle… or half-brother… or whatever the hell he really is to me, being a part of that only adds spice. He and I don’t see eye to eye on many things but going to OCW and proving XWF dominance in this industry… forgive the pun but it’s Pryceless. Not since the day I stepped foot into this industry, did I ever use my bloodline to my personal advantage.

There’s a first time for everything.

It holds some sentimentality too but I won’t get into that.

For years, I worked hard to break free of the shadows cast over me by he and my father, mostly my father. I’ve done that. Theo’s in-ring career in the XWF was relatively short but he was dominant. My father was dominant. I am dominant.

That’s a legacy. A real legacy. It’s a legacy I’m proud of and I know they are too.

I became my own man a long time ago. I asserted my place in this industry a long time ago. My name might be Duke and wearing that name got me in the door in the XWF but since day one, I’ve just been Thaddeus. Like me, love me, hate me… it makes no difference to me because they can boo me or they can cheer me but when it comes right down to it, I’m the best in the universe. Being the best takes hard fucking work. It’s studying tape after tape of your own performances and those of your opponents. Coming back to the business last summer, I made a choice to be the very best. Through my own hard work and my own dedication, I’ve made that goal a reality.

My music plays and my tron rolls at Ratliff Stadium as I roll slowly out of the ring. I’ve just been through a meat grinder and survived. Most every wrestler in every promotion looks down on other promotions and the talent contained within them. I’ve never been that way. Just because a particular talent doesn’t reside within the hallowed walls of the Xtreme Wrestling Federation doesn’t mean they lack talent. They just lack the XWF machine being behind them.

Rolling to the floor, I fall to my hands and knees. Theo Pryce, holding both my Hart and Savage titles, tries to help me up but I push him away with a shake of my head. My Golden Age brethren, Ian Dream and Ross Hanson rush down the aisle to aid me and again, I shake my head and fight my way to my feet.

The thousands in attendance at Under The Lights, a lot of boos and insults are hurled in my direction. Even still, many of them applaud for the match they just witnessed between two competitors that are tougher than two dollar steaks. The four of us make our way up the aisle toward the entrance while Theo hands me my championships. Just as we reach the entrance, I turn around, throwing both titles into the air with a huge smile on my face to a chorus of boos.

A moment later, we make our way through the curtain to the Gorilla Position where I again collapse to my hands and knees where I cough up a little blood which spatters onto my Hart championship.

”We need a medic!” calls out as he kneels beside me.

”No,” I reply to him as Adi and a couple medics rush over. ”It’s nothing inside, I just bit my tongue when Supreme Machine choke slammed me,” I inform the gawkers and worriers.

Theo gets back to his feet and dead stares a quiet OCW General Manager Who’Re.

”You better pray nothing is wrong with him internally,” he warns before dropping a threat on her. ”Or I swear to god your next pay per view will be XWF Masters of the Macabre.”

To be honest, I don’t know if its genuine concern for his nephew, or if its because I’m a prized asset for the XWF... or maybe a combination of the two. Either way, his concern is a good thing in my mind.

Making my way back to my feet, Theo turns to me. ”You sure you’re alright?”

”Oh I’mma hurt like hell in the morning, but I’m fine.”

”Alright, well good job tonight representing the XWF and we’ll talk later...”

”Thanks Unc,” I say to him as he hurries off.

”You seriously okay?” Adi asks with a serious look of concern on her beautiful face. Ian hands me a towel to wipe the blood from my mouth.

”I’m fine baby,” I reply to her with a growing smile. ”The show’s over fellas,” I say, turning my attention to Ross and Ian. ”I’ll see y’all in the morning.”

Ian and Ross pat me on the back as the four of us make our way toward the locker rooms before the boys start to hurry off.

”Ross wait,” I call out and he stops and turns. Carrying my titles in one arm, escorting Adi through the hall with my other and walking very gingerly, I approach Ross. ”I know you don’t like the negative fan reactions you get sometimes by association with me. They just don’t understand yet. They’ll learn when you teach them.

“Sticking your neck out for Ian… that’s loyalty, brother… and we sometimes sacrifice what we want, for what we need in the moment. They’ll come around to you.”

Ross nods his understanding before I pull him into a bro hug.

”Ian, good job tonight,” I tell him.

”Thanks Thad,” he says with a bit of dejection.

”Nah man,” I interject. ”You keep your head up. You’re not where you need to be yet, but we’ll get you there. Experience is what you get, when you don’t get what you want.”

”Did… did you just make that up?” Ross asks.

”No, I stole it from a golf video game,” I say with a bit of a laugh. ”You guys get out of here and enjoy the spectacle. Meet at the plane in about an hour.”

Both fellas nod their understanding and rush off to do whatever the hell it is that they do.

Kimpton Hotel Monaco || Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania || 10:44 AM

Laying here staring up at the ceiling and feeling beaten, battered and bruised, I only look to my right at the sleeping beauty that is Adi Gold… in all her glory. Rolling over and sitting up, soreness pulsates through my body. After a yawn, I go to stand up, not realizing I have dead leg. As soon as I’m vertical, I fall to the floor with a thud.

”Thad?” Adi calls out, lifting her head from the pillow.

”Down here,” I inform her while laying chest down on the floor. I hear her shifting her position.

”What are you doin’ down there?” she asks the obvious question.

”I just thought maybe I’d like the view from down here,” I joke. ”Turns out I was wrong.”

”Well the view from up here is pretty good,” she jokes back. ”Who knew Pittsburgh had a full moon this time of day?”

After flying out of Texas last night, we stopped in Columbus to drop Ross, then with Ian still in tow, we landed here in Pittsburgh for a contractually obligated XWF public appearance in the form of a group autograph signing at the convention center at noon in preparation for Relentless.

”It’s almost 11, babe,” she informs me. ”Yer supposed to be at the Convention Center at noon.”

”I’ll get there when I get there.”

”Darn right,” she says. ”No one puts Thaddy on a timetable,” she says with a slap on my bare bruised ass.

”Oww,” I say as I start to get to my feet.

Finally being vertical and having use of my aching legs, I stretch myself out. No sooner do I do so and Ian Dream barges in wearing nothing but his swim trunks, dripping wet with a towel over his shoulder and a platter of pancakes.

”Morning,” I say to the awestruck Dreamboat.

”Uhhhhhhhhh...”

”Knocking on a closed bedroom door usually avoids this kind of situation,” I say to him facetiously as he tries hard to avert his eyes from my nakedness.

”Yeah,” he replies uncomfortably, turning to his side and staring at the floor. ”But I promised two eggs and sausage last night and...”

”Those are pancakes,” I inform him with a smile.

”Yeah that’s what I said,” Ian interjects.

”You’re dripping water all over the floor,” I tell the young man.

”I know, I’m so wet,” he replies causing Adi to chuckle.

Sensing his increasing uncomfortability, I take the tray of pancakes and lay them on the corner of the bed.

”I just wanted to ummmm…”

”I know buddy,” I tell him, filling in the blanks myself. Ian is a very inexperienced competitor, but a damn good guy and an even better friend. His famous pancakes are his way of congratulating me on the success I had last night at Under The Lights. ”And I appreciate you,” I tell him while pulling him into a hug.

”Thad...”

”What?”

”I think your wiener is touching my leg,” he says, causing me to laugh.

”That’s because it is,” I agree. Suddenly he backs off and the towel falls to the floor.

”This floor is soaked!” he cries out as he bends down and starts drying the floor with the towel.

Hearing a shutter sound I turn my head toward Adi.

“Oh myyyy,” she says with a growing smile.

”What!?” Ian cries out as his eyes grow wide. Adi tosses me her cell.

”Yeah that really looks like he’s...”

Before I could finish, Ian snatches the phone from my hand and looks at the picture.

”Oh god,” he says quietly. ”It does look like I’m doing that. Please delete that,” he says, turning his attention to Adi before tossing her phone in her general direction on the bed.

“Consider it deleted,” she says with a smile.

”Thank you,” he says with a sigh of relief before excusing himself from the room.

After closing the door, I leap onto the bed, nearly spilling the pancakes. Taking a few pancakes, I take a bite and return my attention to Adi.

”Don’t you dare delete that,” I plead with her.

”Too late baby,” she informs me. ”It’s already deleted. BUT… I sent it to your phone before I even showed you and he did not ask you to delete yours.”

”You’re a god damn genius,” I tell her with my mouth full of pancakes. ”Because that’s fucking hilarious.

”These are fucking delicious,” I say to her while sliding the platter close to us, ”Have some.”

David L. Lawrence Convention Center || Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania || 1:04 PM

After eating, ya know, then showering, Adi, Frankie and I head to the Convention Center for my XWF contractual obligation. I have no idea where Ian went. Probably back to the swimming pool at the hotel. Either that or taking a cold shower, one of the two.

While I’m not too thrilled about sitting here for three hours… scratch that, I’m an hour late, so two hours signing autographs for hundreds of unworthy humans, I’m interested in seeing just what my demand will look like. For years I spent my professional life catering to them. Now I’m only interested in what I can do for myself. They know it, too. They’re the reason for the change in the first place. That could change my demand.

”See you in a couple hours Baby,” Adi says before giving me a kiss and a big hug.

”What you gonna do?”

”Yer uncle secured me the use of an office,” she says as she starts to walk away. ”I gots business.”

Not letting go of her hand, I pull her back to me. ”Adi,” I say to her, looking into her eyes. ”I fucking love you.”

Grabbing my face with both hands, she smiles happily before kissing me again. ”Til later stud,” she says with a slap on my ass before walking away, exaggerating her walk so that its far more seductive than normal.

”I hate to see you go,” I begin. ”But I love to watch you leave.”

”Face Off, 1997,” she calls back to me with a look before disappearing through a door way. Frankie, not peeling his eyes from his iPad, follows Adi.

Smiling from ear to ear thinking of the woman that’s changed my life, I enter the convention floor and eyeball the fans lined up in front of different XWF stars. I’m not naming them, because fuck ‘em, that’s why. With my titles draped over my left arm, I make my way to the empty seat set up for my ‘booth.’ Setting the Hart title out on the table, the man sat beside me, Chris Page, eyes the belt and returns to signing.

”You seem to be lacking a certain...”

As he’s speaking, I lay out the OCW Savage title on display next to the Hart and take a seat.

”Oh,” Page says. ”Another one huh?”

”Yep,” I say with a smile as I greet the first of what looks like an endless line of fans standing before me. ”Fucking line isn’t any shorter than it was B.C.”

”B.C.?” the Stoned One inquires, shooting me a glance.

”Before Corey,” I say as I sign my first head shot while Page cracks a smile.

”You’re transcendent,” Page says to me. ”Whether people like me acknowledge it or not, you’ve elevated this company and this industry to greater heights. They’ll still hate you… but they’ll love hating you.”

”Yeah well, I can think of a hundred other things I’d rather be doing.”

”At least a hundred, man,” Chris says while shoving a newly signed pay per view poster away. ”I’d rather have my fingernails pulled out with a pair of pliers than sit here signing shit for these ungrateful mother fuckers.”

”Word,” I say to him before we exchange a quick fist bump. ”There was a time I loved doin’ this shit.”

”They’ll turn on you on a dime man. I tried telling you that a year ago but you wouldn’t listen.”

”Oh I knew you were right Chris,” I answer him while nodding at the next fan. ”Just figured I’d ride that wave as long as it lasted.

“Now I’m just here so I don’t get fired,” I joke.

”Just think back on how it all started for you,” he says. ”I mean since your comeback. Yeah, you had a career before your return but god damn if you didn’t come back with a fire in you the likes of which so few of us have ever had.”

”I told you this before privately man,” I begin to reply. ”If not for you and the magic we made last year, I’m not sure I’d have stayed around the XWF, or the business at all.”

Page just looks at me.

”Lightning in a bottle brother,” I expand a little further. ”Right place, right time, right everything… We tore this company apart for six fucking months. Fuck the titles man, they’re just show pieces that came along for the ride.

“The part that makes me smile when I think back on it is that our matches, our rivalry was compared to Flair and Steamboat man. Yeah, I mean, that was predetermined bullshit and not shoot style like we do, but it doesn’t negate the story that was told leading to their clashes man.

“That’s what I’ll hold closer to me than any mother fucking golden trinket,” I conclude my little diatribe.

”That right there is what separates the all-time greats like us from the very-goods,” he replies as he takes a little break from signing bullshit that’ll just end up on ebay in two months. ”Titles will come and go, but its the rivalries and memorable moments that last long after we’ve hung up our boots.”

”Before its your time Chris,” I begin while signing the white leather strap of a replica Lionheart Universal title. I look at him for emphasis. ”We’re goin’ again.”

”I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, shooting me a half smile.

”You’re a lot closer to the exit than the entrance of your career and I don’t pretend to know what your plans are Chris, or if you have your final match in mind yet or not...” I pause a moment. Despite our rivalry, there is a level of deep and true and real respect between us as competitors and as men. Despite the fans turning their backs on me and the resulting change in my attitude toward them, I’m still very much the same Thaddeus Duke I’ve always been. I’m still as emotional a man as I’ve ever been.

”And I don’t care if you do or not,” I continue after successfully choking it back. ”Fact is, I’m your greatest rival and whether you care to admit it publicly or not… you know it too. Whenever the time comes to send Chronic Chris Page off into the sunset for the final time… it should be me standing across from you, no one else. Why have an omega male standing there instead of an Alpha male?”

Electing not to respond to my challenge for a future final Chris Page match, he just sits quietly and resumes signing autographs.

“Bro!” calls out an approaching teenage boy. ”Whose blood is that?” he asks while putting his hands on my Hart title.

”Mine,” I answer him while slapping his hand away. ”Don’t touch my damn belt.”

”I watched that shit last night bro, BRIM had you...”

”The moral of the story kid,” I interrupt him. ”Is that everyone has me, until they don’t.”

He stands ogling my titles but says nothing.

”You got something for me to not want to sign or what?” I ask him, my patience with him wearing thin.

”So like… why’d you do it?” he asks, ignoring my question.

”Do what?”

”Take out Corey Smith?”

”Does it matter? What’s your name?”

”Matt,” he answers.

”Matt, you got something for me to sign or not? This line is for paying customers only.”

”I don’t have any money,” Matt informs me. ”I just wanted to meet you.”

With a sigh and a roll of my eyes, I pull a Relentless poster with my beautiful face on it and sign it before handing it to the kid.

”Thanks man!” he calls out before rushing off.

”That was soft,” Page says, leaning toward me.

”Not really,” I argue. ”I signed your name.”

The revelation causes Chris to laugh a bit.

”You know Thad,” Chris begins with a pause. ”Now that your eyes are fully open, you might consider calling home a place that emphasizes team effort while still letting you be who you are and letting you do what you want to do.”

”Are you asking me to hashtag Join Bob?” I ask with a growing smile. ”You know how I like to be courted.”

He laughs a bit before answering. ”All I’m saying is that you put your trust in Corey Smith, you put your trust in Dolly Waters and both of them have turned their backs on you in favor of the next flavor. That doesn’t happen in the Brotherhood.”

”Uhhhhh,” I begin, considering his proposal. ”I appreciate the offer man, but not right now. I got some things I need to do over the next few months before I’d even consider it.”

”Thad,” he says, lightly grabbing my left arm. I look at him. ”It’s a standing invitation.”

Over the last 90 minutes, Chris and I shot the breeze some more over past rivals, more on our history together, future plans and the like. In spite of our former rivalry, I’m not sure that as far as opponents go, that there’s anyone I hold in higher regard than Chris Page. Together, we made beautifully brutal memories that will outlast both of us. Future generations of XWF fans will watch our matches back, watch our rivalry back and kick themselves in the ass because they never got to watch the magic unfold in real time.

It’s another day in the world of professional shoot wrestling so I guess that means your Lionheart probably just won something else.

I certainly did.

Last night in Odessa, Texas, I walked into Ratliff Stadium and went toe to toe with a literal beast known as BRIM. I did what I nearly always do and walked out with my first OCW title. You can say what you want about Theo and his involvement but the fact is, if you’re not doing whatever it takes to win, including using interference as a tool, then you’re not really trying.

Make no mistake about it, even without Theo getting involved, the outcome would have been the same. I would have beaten BRIM regardless.

Why?

Because I can.

The XWF went into OCW Under The Lights and we conquered, taking home three of OCW’s championships. It’s just what we do and more importantly, its what I do. If there’s an obstacle in front of me, I find a way over it, around it, or through it if need be.

Do not misunderstand me. I wasn’t aware that Theo Pryce was gonna get involved in my match. Hell, I wasn’t even aware that he was even in Texas for the big event. When I saw him jump the apron holding my Hart title and crack that 400 pound behemoth in the skull with it… you’re damn right I took advantage of it. I hit the lumbering idiot with the Heat Seeker and pinned him for three in the middle of the ring and took the championship.

“But… but Thad… don’t you feel guilty? Don’t you feel like less of a champion?”

No.

Emphatically no.

Why? Because I’ll do whatever I have to in order to make it to the pay window. What I put myself through anytime I step through those ropes is the only requirement I need in order to win by any means necessary. BRIM could have done the same thing, but don’t no one like that mother fucker. He’s got the personality of a fucking brick and he has no friends.

He’s like Centurion without the permanent smile.

And also not white.

Moreover, there were no holds barred. Why should I give a shit if some plan hatched by Theo Pryce that I had literally no involvement in resulted in me winning? The answer is simple: I shouldn’t, and I don’t. Sorry, not sorry.

Shifting gears now, let’s give a warm Thaddeus Duke Show welcome to Ciela Luiz. She’s been wanting, she’s been craving even… and I don’t blame her. She’s been wanting to come for me on Warfare for a couple months and now, I finally stepped out of the way and I let her do it. I tried to warn her for weeks that she didn’t really want this. I’m well aware of my talent level. I’m well aware of the amount of matches I’ve had since my return a little over a year ago: 32. I’m also well aware of how many of those opponents are perceived as major opponents: 14. Coincidentally, Ciela Luiz is not yet a major player. I’m also very much aware of how many times I’ve lost during the course of those 32 matches and 14 major opponents: Just 6 times.

Lastly, in the little more than 14 months since I returned to this industry, I’m very aware of how many major professional wrestling championships I’ve held: 5.

Is any of that important? It’s double edged, to be perfectly honest. It’s both yes and it’s no. It’s a track record of success. It’s ticks on a stat sheet, yes. It’s displaying just how fucking good I am while providing evidence that I go out on any given night then back up my claims. Yet on the flip side, it’s not really relevant to this particular match other than the established facts of awesomeness that is your Lionheart.

I once claimed that I take something, make it great, then pass it on down the line. Most recently, my Hart Championship. Since my return to this business I saw the once prestigious Hart Championship fall into disarray and nearly into disrepair. Passed around like the ring rats backstage at practically every event. This championship has long been coveted by me and had I not won the Universal title last year when I did, the Hart title was next on my radar. That was not meant to be then.

After unloading all of my championships I set my sights on laying claim to this one in order to restore its prestige beating names like Ned Kaye and Morbid Angel along the way and not the least of which, perhaps the greatest Hart Champion in history: Robert Main.

No, don’t adjust your sets.

You don’t need to clean out your ears because you heard me right.

Robert Main was added to the ever growing list of big time major names that have fallen at my feet in one way or another over the course of the last 14 months. Like Chris Page, like Betsy Granger, like Thunder Knuckles and Alias. Like Warstein under a mask and Corey Smith under a disguise of being my friend and even the pasty white bread toothpaste sandwich that is Centurion to BRIM just last night…

Some of the biggest names to ever grace our sport and each and every one of them notches in the Thaddeus Duke win column in one way or another. Why? Simply, because I can.

Maybe this sounds like me just trying to inflate my own ego, but the point of the story is that Ciela Luiz is not any of those names. What’s more is I have doubts that she’ll ever be anything like any of those names. Ciela Luiz is not a threat to me and she is not a threat to take my Hart Championship. I know it. The people know it. The powers that be know it.

And in her heart of hearts, she too knows it.

The last upstart little girl that thought she wanted to try a taste of the Lionheart… well… she hasn’t been seen since so its proof to me that so many think they want it, but they never really do.

She too is now part of the OCW roster and I’d like to point out that her and I aren’t the same but it’s not exactly fair to do so. I was courted to sign, she had to beg for them to sign her. Very few people in this industry are anything like me and that has more to do with me and my desire to be the best than it has anything to do with them.

People like me are rare commodities. People like me are generational talents that espouse their own greatness, only to turn around time after time, night after night and back it up. Everyone thinks they’re great. Everyone says they’re great. Yet so few of us truly are.

In this business, you either have it or you don’t. Some of us are blessed enough to be born with it, and further so, blessed with the willpower to see it through. Her and I are both second generation competitors and the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree in either case. I was descended from greatness and I have reached the pinnacle of this business, reaching for and achieving greatness on my own. Ciela is an upstart with a pedigree of average.

Ciela Luiz is the personification of average and the fact of the matter is that average is all she’ll ever be. The killer instinct trait can not be taught and you’re either born with it or you’re not and Ciela Luiz, just looking at the family from which she is descended from… she ain’t go it. That’s not to say that one day she won’t grow into her boots and become a major star in the business, but that time isn’t now and it won’t ever be at my expense.

Don’t be a Rel Dixon.

Stick around.

Try harder.

Do better.

Ciela Luiz… welcome to the Thaddeus Duke Show.

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