The camera shot opens up. It was that time in the evening where no one else was quite here yet and there was just some god awful man singing old novelty songs on stage. I routed him on though because I was slightly tipsy. He was currently singing Music Man, dear god.



“Oh hello.” Damn straight, I was talking to the camera, like a fully grown Ferris Bueller, only less annoying and way better looking. Or like Kevin Spacey in House of Cards only less ravishing but way better looking.


“Today, I was going to tell a story, like I usually do. But I can’t, because there is simply far too much to talk about. The King of Darkness is expected to dominate, Cain is actually attempting to do something, and by god, Underwood, well he’s still just Underwood. The point is, I need to spend a little bit of time ripping into the blithering buffoons I could potentially face because I would hate for them to get ahead of their station, and even more so, I would hate them to realise they are anything but just that, blithering buffoons.”


I smirk and give an irritating wink to the camera. I am sure someone will react to that. I look over at Dale, the barman and nod. He comes rushing over with the honey whiskey and I take a sip before continuing to talk.


“I want to start with a man who my old friend Steve Davids was very familiar with, Cain. Oh Cain, the self proclaimed future of darkness. I hope you know that everyone can see straight through this illusion that you are trying to create. You certainly are no Sebastian Duke in the making. You are EXACTLY what everyone thinks you are. A cheap attempt at riding on Duke’s former glory. Well it doesn’t matter anymore now because Duke’s glory has faded into nothingness. Oh yes, who am I to talk? I am yet to achieve anything, I hear you say. Well I am young, I have time, and for the foreseeable future, I will not be putting any of my time into the careers of others like I have in the past.”


“People have gone on and on to me about the Connection and its failures. Well the reason that it failed is simple, I gave the the wrong people a chance. It was my mistake to think that other people could step up their game under my influence. Sometimes, it doesn’t matter how good the coach is, the player is simply destined to fall into mediocrity. Yes my group of average idiots crumbled, and I take responsibility for trying to be kind. No more. There’s only one person’s wrestling career that I care about now and that’s MINE. I got Steve Davids into the spotlight and he failed to keep himself there. Well I am not going to hold his hand anymore. There is no doubt in my mind that he too will fall into mediocrity just as the likes of John Austin.”


“Speaking of mediocrity, describing my opponent in the first round, Aaron Underwood, as mediocre would actually be a compliment. The guy has nothing about him. There is nothing different that makes him even the slightest bit interesting. Sure, the guy CAN wrestle, a bit, but he is still, without a doubt, one of THE worst competitors on the roster and certainly the least interesting.”


Dale poured me a shot of vodka as I smiled.


“Ah, the Aaron Underwood of spirits. Slightly cheaper, slightly more bland, doesn’t really do anything for me, and when you’ve tasted him or it, in the case of the vodka, you wake up filled with regret because you realise that you’re lying next to someone with the personality of a tooth pick. Although, I must say, toothpicks are slightly more useful.”


“Anyway, back to Cain.”


Dale poured me a pint of Carlsberg which I necked immediately.


“You know Cain, well he is like a pint of Carlsberg. Slightly refreshing at first, but then you realise, he’s just like every other pint of piss to step foot in that ring only, slightly weaker.”


I’m starting to question whether drinking that Carlsberg was worth the point.


“Goat Face Killa. Am I the only one irritated by the fact he couldn’t call himself Goat Face Killer? That A rather than the ER is really fucking irritating, just like him I suppose. It is good to see Greggo back though, I mean, we’ve all just been dying to see Greggo back. Some people just continue to crawl out of the woodwork. HEY don’t look at me like that! Yeah you!”


I point down the camera lens.


“If I didn’t come crawling out of the woodwork every now and again you would all be bored shitless so leave it out. Greggo though, I think we could all live without. Goat Face Killer, I am going to say it like that, because I’m such a badass.”


I said sarcastically.


Dale came over and lit up a flaming sambuca which I downed immediately.


“This one’s to you Goat Face. A little bit fiery, a little bit different, a little bit crazy, but simply not top quality. I do know a lot about sambuca, but it does seem the perfect fit for you from what I have seen so far. I do not think I will be meeting you on Wednesday, because I don’t think you have it in you to make it to the final against me. All the best.”


“Frodo Smackins, well I can’t legally take what I would describe Frodo Smackins as. I think he’s like a pill you get given at a festival. People say how great it is, you look forward to it, and at first it packs a bit of a punch. But in the end, it’s simply lacking any substance, it’s simply overrated and it’s simply not as good as you expected. That just about sums Frodo up. I mean the guy has been here for a long time now, and I mean a LONG time. Yet he has achieved what appears to be nothing. Sure Scorpio handed him a shortly lived, see what I did there, tag team title reign. Yet beyond that, correct me if I am wrong, but he has done literally nothing. He’s just a hobbit with little man’s syndrome. Maybe, just maybe, I will see you in the semi-finals Frodo, but I can’t see it. I think Austin Fernando will overwhelm you.”


“Speaking of Austin Fernando.”


Dale pours a fine white wine, and despite it being fine, I simply down immediately.


“A patient man. An intelligent man. Opportunistic. All of these things are really good traits. However, Austin. You may be a fine wine but I have never really liked wine. I think there is a high chance that we could bump into each other on Wednesday, but when someone or something that I don’t really like, gets in my way, there is no choice but to rip it to shreds. There will be no picking me apart. There will be no method of taking me down because you will have no idea of my next move. You’re the self proclaimed leader of the revolution. What exactly is this revolution though? You are impressive, as wine is, but this apparent revolution will lead no change. There have been so many, but these leaders come and go. These revolutions come and go. These changes, they come and go. Things never change. Ricky Desmond will still remain the single most talented competitor in this industry. The regime will ALWAYS be the same. I am so, sorry to break that heart of yours Austin, and I am sure you probably haven’t quite got over that incredible performance in the Rumble. We shall see.”


At first, I couldn’t quite decide what drink to use to sum up Justin Sane, because, if truth be told, I knew very little about him. What sort of wrestler doesn’t do his research though?


“Justin, I pray that you sharing a name with Justin Bieber is merely an awful coincidence and you share no other similarities. Aligning yourself with Gator must mean that you’re not completely stupid. Although, still, a blithering buffoon. You’re a tag team champion, congratulations on that, did you win them in a match? Or? Oh. That’s okay, buying a championship, fair enough, use everything you have at your expense. That’s good business, and I of all people can appreciate that. The validity of the reign is certainly questionable though. It’s okay though Justin. There’s a good chance I will be seeing you in the triple threat match, but I just want you to know that it doesn’t matter to me how good you are because I will be better. The stakes are high and I will come out trumps because that’s what I do. Out of everyone in this competition though Justin, I think you might well be the dark horse to win it. So for you…”


Dale pours a jágerbomb which again, I down immediately.


“Yes, the drink that seems to give you a weird buzz, it’s rather exciting, but when you get to the point of having one, you know that things are getting desperate. What better way to sum you up Justin? I mean, having to buy a championship is pretty fucking desperate. It’s nice that you have that briefcase still though, why don’t you put it to good use? Oh and by the way, to say that I will have my 15 seconds of fame, when I inevitably step into the ring with you, is just foolish. Are you another ignorant cunt who failed to see make Steve Davids the Universal Champion? He would not be cemented in XWF legacy if it was not for me. I did not have you down as naive Justin, so I am rather disappointed. I don’t need to face you for fame. I already have fame. I will throw your ass all over London and there’s nothing you can do to stop that from happening.”


Dale pours a pint of Stella Artois. Reluctantly, I drink it.


“Now let me explain this one. Stella Artois, over here in Britain is the drink that men who beat their wives drink. I figured it is perfect for someone who holds such disregard to the female population. Not only that, but just like Carlsberg, it tastes like every other single pint of piss. Aerial Knight believes that he has a pure heart, well how wrong he is. For even the darkest hearts have the tiniest glows within them, and even the purest of hearts contain at least a fragment of devilish black. This guy really is the definition of hypocrite. He has a pure heart yet he holds women in low regard. He fights for honour yet is willing to cheat to win. Now how clear is it that he is a blithering buffoon? Honestly, you would think that these morons would at least make it difficult for me to insult them. In all seriousness Knight, do me a favour and at least make Justin Sane reasonably tired. The smoother that this competition is, the better but I have no doubt that Justin will Justinevitaby beat you… See what I did there? Yeah you’re right it’s not funny. Oh and by the way friend…”


I said sarcastically.


“If you started to respect women a tad more, then perhaps you might actually manage to get that little maggot of yours some action.”


Dale came along once more, this time with a shot of tequila, some salt and a slice of lemon.


I sniffed the salt, ate the lemon and then poured the tequila into my eye.


“A suicide shot. What better way to sum up the current Xtreme Champion? Doctor Louis D’Ville. You see at first they burn, and they hurt. They’re daunting. Slightly crazy. But once you get past the first few moments, they’re no where near as deadly as they first seemed. I think that is a fair and just summary of the doctor. When he mutters those words ‘The Doctor Will See You Now’ I will simply laugh. He may be daunting to most, but I am not worried because I have seen him wrestle. He is not all that special. Over rated. Just like many of the competitors in this tournament. I cannot completely knock the guy though. He has held that Xtreme Championship for almost two months. He may actually hold two briefcases at the same time soon. There are certain things that are quite simply just impressive. He won the rumble as well, so he has a championship shot whenever he desires. Will he use it to its full advantage? I should expect he will. Unless of course he chooses to face me when I inevitably become the Intercontinental Champion!”


Moscato was next on Dale’s list and for me to throw back like it was nothing.


“Yep, the next guy I am going to talk about is TJ Wallace. Moscato is a fit because black people fucking love it. See Drake, even he bigged it up, and that guy played Wireless. If you want to see a festival where the crowd looks like a prison version of Guess Who then that is it. Plus, not to mention, it’s sweet, and TJ Wallace, well isn’t he sweet. I would say that’s how I would look at him anyway. Like a cuddly black teddy bear. He’s getting away from a life of crime he claims. Well once a black guy, always a black guy. He commits every time he’s in the ring, he’s murdered so many people with boredom that I am surprised he’s still out on bail. But seriously, unless you give the guy a knife, I’m not threatened. Accomplishing little in the ring and with no natural ferocity about him, I don’t find him the slightest bit intimidating. Unless he gets his in gear he will definitely lose in the opening round and we will all just sigh because that’s exactly what we will all have expected. Don’t worry TJ, you can have some Moscato and some fried chicken to calm yourself down, before you commit the crime of being a shit wrestler once again.”


“What’s next?”


I asked Dale, he poured some gin. Gulp.


“Hysteria. Hysteria. Hysteria. You are gin. The only alcohol that is genuinely worse than water. I know very little about you and I do not care enough to do any research about you. I hope that some how you actually do something but I am struggling to see it. I think Duke will rip you from limb to limb and maybe even make a humble Hysteria pie. Hysteria actually means exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion or excitement. Which makes me think that he may be named after Underwood’s discipline in the bedroom - pre ejeactulation joke at it’s finest right there. In all seriousness… Oh who am I kidding, I won’t see you at any point Hysteria, you’ve already lost.”


Lastly, Dale poured a shot of absinthe. Which I reluctantly drunk.


“Sebastian Duke. Absinthe. You pack a punch, there’s no doubt about it. Powerful so to speak. However, just like vodka, you are extremely bland now. The novelty of absinthe has worn off on the world and the novelty of the king of darkness has also worn off because no one buys it anymore. Or at least they shouldn’t. Your protege at the time, Theo Pryce, Enigma, whatever, let Steve Davids ago. For literally no reason and not a word was said. How soft has the King of Darkness become in his age? You have some brilliant proteges in your time it must be said. No actually it must not. Davids and Pryce had their time but where are they now? Retired and buried alive. Oh and Cain? Well we both know how Cain turned out. Some people are destined for mediocrity and the future of darkness really was bleak for him from the off. I do not blame you for that though, like I did, you just put your eggs in the wrong basket. Now though Duke, now, you must fight alone, like you used to. Maybe this is for the best. Or maybe, you shall crumble like you did when you faced Mr Satellite in that casket match so long ago. Fear not though Duke. You have what it takes. However, I don’t care. I will probably see you in the final, where I will put the King of Darkness down because it really is about time that you quit while you are ahead.”


I look down for a moment and then look up.


“I have had fun tonight and I will have even more fun on Wednesday when I become the first XWF Intercontinental Champion and create history for me, and me alone. Now though, all this drinking has made me exactly how all of you will be on Wednesday… Absolutely fucked.”


I try to stand up but groggily fall back down.


Fades to black.