BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

No. Shut the fuck up. It’s far too early for this.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Hey! I said knock it off! I’m exhausted, and I don’t have the energy or patience for whatever this is! Cut the noise, and let me sleep!

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

“Rise and shine, little brother.”

My eyelids flutter, the darkness washing over me as I roll over in my bed and pull the comforter snugly underneath my chin. It’s not morning yet, just tune it all out… and go back to sleep…

“Sleep? Fuck that.”

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A couple of weeks ago, this would have rattled me. A couple of weeks ago the voice I hear echoing inside my head and reverberating around my cerebellum would have sent me into a tailspin… but now? Not so much. I’m getting used to my cohabitant.

I sit up in bed, swinging my legs over the side and dropping my feet down into the soft plush carpeting. What time is it? I have no idea… I don’t open my eyes to look at the clock, but snatch my phone up off the nightstand and swiftly deactivate the alarm without so much as a glance. Strange… I don’t remember setting that…

“You didn’t set it, Jimmy. I did.”

Like I said, a few weeks ago that voice would have rattled me but as much as I hate to admit it, I'm getting used to him… if not growing comfortable. Don’t tell him that, though.

“Too late. I heard.”

I feel a gentle hand on my shoulder. Betsy rolls over in bed and shakes me from my trance.

BETSY: What are you doing?

RAVEN: Uh, I’m… not sure…

BETSY: It’s four in the morning. Why did you set an alarm?

RAVEN: I don’t know.

BETSY: Do you have a conference call with someone on the European tour right now? Are you supposed to meet someone at the gym?

RAVEN: … no?

There’s silence in the room. Confusion. She rubs my shoulder again and inches her way across the mattress towards me. I feel her warmth against my back.

BETSY: Well, go back to sleep, or figure it out… but don’t wake me up again, okay?

There’s no warmth in that final sentence; nothing but a ‘slit your throat’ ice in the tone. I nod my head and feel her slip away, back across the mattress and back to her slumber.

“Get up. Go to your computer.”

Huh?

“Don’t ask questions dipshit, just go to the goddamn computer. Don’t say anything, either! We don’t need Betsy waking up and snooping around!”

I try to speak just to spite him, but by jaw is clenched and my tongue feels heavy.

“Hey! I said don’t say anything, you fuck! Let Betsy sleep… for everyone's sake.”

You know how I said I had gotten used to the voice in my head? Well I’m not used to losing control of my body like this. There’s no way he’s controlling things somehow, right? The voice is, like, a hallucination… a figment of my-

“Don’t even finish the cliche. You’re not that naive. You know exactly what’s happening here, now don’t fight me. Get to the computer.”

I stand up out of bed, and I honestly can’t tell you if it’s my own decision or not. I begin to walk across the floor towards the doorway, and I have no idea if I’m the one making it happen. I slip out of the bedroom and ease the door shut behind me, tip-toeing down the hallway towards my office and moving inside. I move over to the computer, collapsing into the leather desk chair and staring at the blank screen. Now what?

“Turn it on, James.”

I shake the computer mouse and watch the screen flicker to life, quickly typing in my password.

“Tell me your password isn’t actually VVisSexy69… that’s a joke, right?”

RAVEN: Yeah, a joke.

“You’re a disgusting man, little brother. I hope Betsy doesn’t find out.”

Ugh. Shut up.

“I heard that. Open your browser.”

I point and click on the icon. I’m a google chrome guy, how about you? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for here.

“Tell me about Hanari Carnes.”

RAVEN: Huh?

“HANARI! The guy you’re facing, James! Christ!”

RAVEN: Oh, uh, well… what do you want to know about him?

“I don’t want to know anything, I want you to tell me what you know. Tell me what he looks like, where he’s from, when he started wrestling…”

RAVEN: Well, he’s hispanic… Dominican, I think? Maybe puerto rican, I don’t know, it’s fucking late T.J. Why are we doing this? Just let me go to sleep.

“No. So he’s Dominican. Tell me more. Describe him.”

RAVEN: Fuck man, he looks hispanic, I don’t know! Tan skin, black hair. He’s tall, I guess, in good shape. What are you asking me?

“What do you know about his career?”

RAVEN: Not much, honestly. I think he’s a rookie, I know he was wrestling here at the beginning of the year and may have had a short Hart title reign or something… but that’s probably about it. I asked the personnel department for some info on him when I first dealt with him but they didn’t have much.

“Interesting.”

My hands lift slowly to the keyboard. For the first time I know I had nothing to do with that movement. T.J. has taken control. All I can do is stare at the search bar as he types in “Hanari Carnes Phoenix Wrestling Television title” and hits enter.

“Well, your personnel department is trash, because that’s all it takes to find him. Go ahead and take a look at that first video link for me.”

My hand slides to the mouse and clicks on the thumbnail, a large full screen bout from a few years ago popping up. I look at the two people in the ring, the first a slim and athletic looking black man with braided hair and jamaican colors on his gear. The second…

RAVEN: Is that Tiffani?

“It is.”

Don’t worry, you’re not supposed to know her. She’s not some forgotten XWF legend or anything like that, just a friend I’ve made over my years in the industry. She’s wild, she’s reckless, and she’s…

RAVEN: She’s kicking the shit out of that Jamaican dude.

“Indeed, James. Indeed. I’ll go ahead and spoil the outcome for you, the guy doesn’t come back from this. It’s a one sided beatdown so brutal that his ancestors are going to feel it. Tiffani leaves this match the Phoenix Wrestling Television champion.”

RAVEN: Cool. Good for her. Why are you making me watch this?

“Tell me more about Hanari, what is he like? How does he sound?”

RAVEN: Sound?

“So many questions, little brother. Yes! How does he sound! What is his voice like, what are his speech patterns?”

RAVEN: I don’t want to touch that.

“Why not?”

RAVEN: I don’t want to shit on the guy.

“IT’S YOUR JOB! It’s your responsibility to analyze and shred every aspect of the man, but you’ve forgotten what that means! This generic surface level shit is only going to last so long, eventually you’re going to have to start digging deep… finding every flaw you can be it a buried body in the desert or a bad haircut! Tell me how Hanari sounds!”

I pause for a moment and try to look for a diplomatic phrasing, but again I feel myself acting beyond my control and blurt something out.

RAVEN: He’s a fucking clown. He’s a racist caricature of a hispanic man, and I don’t know if it’s possible for someone to be offensive to their own race, but he is. Everything he says, or wears or does, he’s just a walking stereotype… like a character in an old Mad TV sketch or something, and not in a good way. It just doesn’t make sense to me. How can a Dominican be SO BAD at being Dominican, and how-

I stop. Something in the match caught my attention. I focus in on the quiet commentary drifting through my speakers, watching Tiffani destroy this Jamaican asshole. What did they call him? Did they call him… Hanari Carnes?

“There it is.”

RAVEN: So he… wasn’t a rookie?

“No, this match was years ago.”

RAVEN: And… he’s… not Dominican?

“Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t. He looks black as shit in this Youtube video, though! Something doesn’t add up here. I’ve seen more of Phoenix Wrestlings footage than you so let me assure you, his ‘Jamaican persona’ or whatever you want to call this… it was equally offensive… fractured pigeon speak and references that made it clear he had listened to a few Bob Marley songs and thought he understood the whole culture. Hanari Carnes is not an obnoxious two dimensional rookie, James, he’s a part of a vicious circle of hatred and racially insensitive portrayal. He’s part of something much bigger.”

RAVEN: … bigger?

“You know who else wrestled in Phoenix?”

RAVEN: Besides this Jamaican Hanari and Tiffany? No.

“Ch-”

BETSY: James… what are you doing?

I didn’t realize she was standing in the office doorway. Had she heard me talking to myself? Even worse could she hear TJ? No, I don’t think so. I think she’d look much more concerned if she had heard any of that.

“I agree.”

RAVEN: Shut up.

BETSY: Excuse me?

RAVEN: Nothing, sorry. Go back to bed, I’ll be there soon, I just had to send a few emails.

She nods her head skeptically and inches out of the office and into the hallway, shutting the door behind her. I exhale nervously.

“You don’t think she’d like to meet me, little brother? That hurts.”

RAVEN: Not when you’re dead. Why are you making me watch this Hanari shit? What are you trying to show me?

“He’s not who he’s trying to portray himself as, James. He’s not who you’re allowing yourself to believe he is. Look at the Hanari from Phoenix, James. Look at Hanari now. What happened there, and who is Hanari for real? Why? What is he trying to do? I want you to be AWARE! I want you to be hungry, and vicious, and destroy this lying two faced motherfucker! If you go into this assuming he’s some two dimensional rookie, he will end you!”

RAVEN: Isn’t that what you wanted? Me to lose the tag team titles? All you’ve been telling me is to ‘burn it down’.

“Not to him. Not to the Arm Collectors. I want you to KILL this mother fucker, James! We’ll figure the rest out later.”

RAVEN: I don’t like the sound of that.

“Oh fucking well. Hanari Carnes isn’t the one to sacrifice Apex too, he’s not the one to release CHAOS. He’s just another notch in the belt, forgettable, stompable...”

This is all starting to get overwhelming. I don’t know what’s real, and what’s an imagined figment in my sleep deprived mind.

“Say it, James. Say you’re going to beat Hanari worse than Tiffani did, and expose him for exactly who and what he is! Get angry! HE LIED TO YOU! HE LIED TO EVERYONE! KILL HIM! Bitch slap he and Steve Justice and make them regret uniting for this stupid tournament in the first place. Remember that you are the greatest tag team of all time… and punish them.”

RAVEN: You’re right.

“Good. Now go to sleep.”