The invite kind of came out of nowhere.  That morning, I had loaded up the unholy trinity that make up the Duke children and we were off to Los Angeles for a business meeting related to the XWF and maybe just a little R&R.  It's been an emotionally trying time and Sebastian knew it.  I was reluctant at first, but I eventually gave in, rescheduled my meeting and changed course to Arizona to join him and Lucy Wylde in the Sonoran Desert in Arizona.

While it was hot, dry and mostly uncomfortable, it felt good to just get out and hang out.  Once upon a time, I did cash a UGWC check, though I had no place at Wrestlestock proper.  I was not competing, but it was a good time without question.

The twins had a blast.  They were sweaty and clothed from head to toe, but loved playing in the sand and dirt.  Frankie was there but simultaneously not there.  He was still struggling with the departure of his mother.  So was I, naturally.  But at the same time, I knew I needed some laughs, some way to just let it all go, even if it was just temporary.  Leading into the week, I had been drinking fairly heavily which by itself isn't very normal for me.  While I certainly can tie one on now and then, getting shit faced drunk was never something I did on the regular.  I was always more of a social drinker.  Combine the heavy drinking with the shitty moods and I was a disaster just waiting to happen.  This detour, this unscheduled stop was exactly what I needed and maybe Sebastian knew that. Perhaps he sensed that I needed a timeout.

We arrived on Monday night.  Upon landing, we found a somewhat local Walmart to grab some supplies and stock up on necessities to survive the harsh climate of the Sonoran Desert.  By Thursday afternoon, Frankie had broken his silence… merely to complain, but silence broken nevertheless.

”Frankie?” I called him as I entered our tent.  Saying nothing, he only looked up at me.  ”Are you gonna continue brooding or are you gonna at least try and have some fun while we're here?”

”It's 110 degrees Dad… what fun can I possibly have?” he asked while staring at his phone.

”Kid, I know shit sucks right now.  But if all you do is sit around and wallow in it, life is never going to get any better.”


My estranged wife's voice.  Frankie looked up at me with scorn on his face.

”That true?” he asked.  ”Did you offer her a million dollars to say no?”

”It’s not that simple, Frankie,” I told him.

”Did… you do it?  It's a simple question.”

”Frankie she had a reputation,” I began.  ”I needed to know that I wasn't just tryna marry someone that only wanted my money.”

”They laughed at her,” he said quietly.

”They didn't,” I insisted.

”Are you calling her a liar?”

”No,” I replied.  ”I'm only saying she's mistaken.”

He laid his phone down and resumed sulking.

”It's fine if you feel like you need to blame me, Frankie,” I said as I sat beside him.  ”But I didn't do anything.  Not this time.”

”You know, it wasn't just you she left,” he said as he looked at me briefly.

”I know that.”

”And I hate her for it.”

”No you don't,” I insisted.

”Stop telling me how I feel!” he shouted.  ”I specifically chose her, Dad!  And she…”

”Enough!” I yelled back.  ”Human emotion isn't one or the other.  It's not just black and white.  I understand you're hurting and I'm sorry I can't do anything about that right now.

“But you need to learn that while maybe your mom decided to hate me, that doesn't mean she hates you.  You need to give her time to sort things out in her head.”

”Well,” he said before a pause.  ”I know I never needed to sort out how I felt about her, Dad.  I didn’t need to leave everything and everyone in order to figure out that I loved my Mom.”

He stood and looked down at me.

”I don't blame you and I never did.  She made this choice.  It was selfish and bullshit, Dad.  She can go to hell and stay there.”

Frankie stormed off like the angsty teenager that he is, blowing right past Sebastian and his patented SEBECS fan device attached to his leg.

”Where's he going?”

”I don't know,” I answered followed by a ‘pffffffff’ sound that I didn't immediately recognize.  ”Probably off to plot his eventual world domination.”

”God help us all,” Seb joked.  ”Oh no, my fan quit.”

The fan in question was cooling off ‘the boys’.

”What’s that smell?” Seb asked.  ”Wait.  Am I that smell?”

Seb sniffed himself as I peered between his legs.  Not to get a look at ‘the goods’ mind you, but because it only now registered what sound I heard a minute ago.

”Seb, I don't want you to panic, but you might wanna find a shower and wash yourself down,” I advised him.  ”I think the battery for your ball chiller just exploded.”

”Oh god…” he replied as he started to hurry off.  ”Oh god oh god oh god.”

”I said not to panic!”

Sebastian was gone.  It's not as big of a deal as it seems.  I mean, left uncleaned it could be a problem, but a little skin irritation otherwise is really the worst of it.

”Hey,” Lucy said as she entered the tent and sat near me.  ”Where's he off to in such a hurry?”

”Battery mishap with SEBECS,” I laughed.  ”He's in full on panic mode.”

”You realize he's gonna be unbearable now?” she asked with a laugh.

”Oh I do, I do,” I replied.  ”So how ‘bout when he gets back, you and I head into town and grab some things.”

”Okay sure,” she replied.

”It's a date then,” I said before realizing it.  ”I mean, not a date but a… you know what I mean.”

She chuckled as she started to make her way out of my tent.  ”I know what you meant.”

After she vacated, I changed clothes.  Desert camo cargo shorts and a graphic tee.  Comfort, nothing else.

A little while later, Sebastian returned, sulking over his SEBECS experiment failing in the heat of the Arizona sun.

”Chin up,” I said playfully, though he wasn't in the mood.  ”Watch the heathens while me and Lucy run into town for some things.  When we get back, you'll wonder why we didn't do this sooner.”

”So I watch your kids while you and Lucy get to go frolicking around Arizona!?”

”Pretty much,” I replied as I pulled a shirt over my head.

”Where's the moody one?” he asked while looking over his shoulder.

”He'll be around as soon as we leave,” I informed him.  ”He says he doesn't blame me but… he blames me.”

”Ready?” Lucy asked.

”Yep,” I replied while pushing past Seb.

”You two keep your hands visible at all times!” Seb called out jokingly.

The cars were parked not far from the campsite.  My truck and trailer, and my old Harley Springer Softail.  After rooting around inside one of the saddle bags, I handed Lucy a helmet and mounted the old motorcycle.  She climbed on behind me as I fired the engine.

”What do I hold on to!?” she yelled in my ear over the loud engine.

Reaching behind me, I grabbed her hands and placed them at my side before squeezing the clutch and shifting into gear.

---

I have a job to do and it's one I take very seriously.  Being the executive director of the XWF's flagship is a major responsibility.  All of its good, and its bad, falls squarely upon my shoulders.  I'm the one responsible for captured content on that show and no, it isn't exactly an easy job.

So when Micheal Graves sloppy ass shows up on Warfare, what am I supposed to do?  His randomness and his inability to take responsibility for his own actions invites liability.

Graves actions have already had me sitting in for a deposition over the alleged wrongful death of Pussyfoot Pete.  It wasn't me that tried to break into Warfare.  It wasn't me that blew that man up with explosives in an effort to get on the show.

That was Micheal Graves.

If I'm already sitting for depositions when Graves has never been officially invited to Warfare, then why would I just willingly allow him on the show at all?

I'm not Vinnie Lane and I am not the disgraced former owner.  If you're not making money for Warfare and the XWF, then why do I need you?

---

So in hindsight, I should've dropped the trailer and just taken the truck.  While Lucy and I were in town, I came up with a MacGyver kind of idea that involved a cooler, dry ice, a box fan, and a car battery.  Fitting all of that on a Harley?  Was difficult to say the very least.

The trip took several hours, but once we were back, night had fallen and Seb and the minions were covered in sweat, sleeping.  Working quickly, I cut the plug end off the fan and fastened them to the car battery.  After placing the fan in front of the opened cooler containing a massive block of dry ice, my babysitter and the three little jerks had a makeshift version of air conditioning.

”Oh my god, you're incredible,” Seb said through his slumber as the cold air washed over him.

”That's what she said,” I joked.

”Lucy!”

”No, not… I was kidding!” I insisted.

”I'm going back to sleep,” he replied.

”Need anything, let me know.  Lucy and I are gonna go into the festival for awhile.”

Seb threw a thumbs up in response before Lucy and I headed off.  As we walked and talked, I couldn't really put my finger on what it was that made me comfortable with her.  She was chill, cool, kind, not too serious.  We've known each other for a year or more now but we've never really had a chance to spend one on one time together at any point.  Until now.

I enjoyed the time we spent together.  There was no pressure.  We were friends and neither of us were particularly looking for more than that.  She has a boyfriend and I have… whatever it is I have.

At the carnival, we chatted a little about each other as we got to know one another more before we began playing a few carnival games that started with a friendly game of miniature golf.  I'm a seasoned golf veteran though so it's not like it was a fair fight.  From there, it was onto some other games.

First, was the ‘shoot the weighted milk jugs with the shitty BB guns’.  Her shot knocked down a can, but I had to try it.  When I squeezed the trigger, my shot sailed.

”Oh this is rigged!” I complained in jest.

”Yeah,” she laughed as we moved onto the next game.  ”Whatever you gotta tell yourself, stud.”

”I'm actually an expert marksman, thank you very much,” I playfully fought back.

”Of course you are,” she said mockingly with a squeeze of my cheeks that made me laugh.

”Fine fine, you win,” I conceded.

After the BB guns, we moved onto a dunk tank and a mouthy subject sitting above the water.

”Three for ten bucks?  Don't mind if I do,” I joked.

”Bet you're an expert baseball… whatever… too,” Lucy joked.

”Actually I am,” I chuckled.  ”I'd only need one pitch.”

”High school?” she asked.

Confirming with a nod, I backed up several feet so it was more of a challenge.

”Ohhh look at the big man with the big arm!” said the potential dunk victim.

Throw one… wide left of the mark.

”You said you were an expert,” Lucy reminded me.

”I am!” I insisted before my second throw went wide right.  ”I'm just calibrating the cannon,” I joked.

”Oh sure sure,” she chuckled. ”MiStEr ExPeRt EvErYtHiNg,” she mocked.

”How ‘bout you give the girlfriend a try, Macho Man?” the man instigated. ”She probably got a better arm than you and your limp noodle.”

”Yeah how ‘bout that?” Lucy joined in.

To be clear, we were all just having fun. There was no sense in arguing the “girlfriend” remark.  But I did realize something: I kind of enjoyed Lucy's version of playful harassment.

Throw.

Bullseye.

The man plummeted into the tank.

Lucy cheered and gave me a high five to celebrate.  But we weren't done.  Another fifty bucks down the drain.  Lucy and I traded turns dunking the man.  Not every throw was perfectly on the money, but it was a good time.

”Alright alright,” the super soaked dunk tank victim finally relented.  ”See my man over there. Top shelf.”

I chose a big ass stuffed Simba lion and promptly gave it to her.  I mean, ya gotta, right?  A few minutes later, she returned the gesture after she mastered a Whack-A-Mole game.

---

Speaking of Vinnie Lane, he too is a bit of a disgrace.  While the XWF has always made money despite Itself, Vinnie Lane is the head mother fucker in charge.

Where was he when Anarchy was failing?

Where was he when Madness was failing?

Where was he when Warfare was failing?

Where was Vinnie Lane when the XWF… was failing?

It wasn't Vinnie Lane that saved Anarchy. that was Jett Sterling.  It wasn't Vinnie Lane that saved Madness.  That was me.  It wasn't Vinnie Lane that saved Warfare and the XWF in general.  That was me, that was Theo Pryce.

You know, I may be a city boy again, but I do know something about that farm life.  Everyone knows what happens when that old workhorse is past its prime.  When he's no longer a help to the farm but a drag, a constant burden, that old workhorse is put out to pasture.

Lane thought that when Gravy laid out his little challenge after he assaulted a member of XWF security to gain passage to the ring, another case of pending litigation by the way, that he was the right guy to take that challenge.  He thought wrong.

Why would I ever allow a man that was largely responsible for the ills of this company to protect Warfare?  No thank you.  I'm responsible for Warfare.  I'll protect Warfare.  I'll protect the XWF from men like Vinnie Lane that are well past their prime.

I interrupted Vinnie Lane's intended triumphant return to the flagship because it felt good to upstage him.

I knocked Graves out in the middle of the ring because it felt good to knock him out.

I kicked Lane in his stupid face because it felt good to kick him in the face.

If I could wreck Vinnie Lane during this match for wrecking the XWF, I'd do that too.  Because it would make me feel good to wreck Vinnie Lane.

---

After the games, we found some fair food carts.  A couple of funnel cakes and ice cold lemonades later, we were beginning to make our way back to camp when we were swarmed by some UGWC fans.  While they knew me, Lucy was the real star of the show and that by itself, was a kind of refreshing change of pace.  Typically, I'm the one getting swarmed by fans.  It was nice to have at least some anonymity as an XWF guy in a predominantly UGWC world.

We both greeted fans warmly.  Selfies and autographs all around and even some selfies with both of us in the photos.  I know a lot of people hate this part of the job, but I always kind of enjoyed it.  At least mostly.  I was always of the thought that they could boo me or cheer and I'll still share time with them.  Without them, there's not much reason to do what we do.

”Hey Thad, can you sign this please?”

”Yeah sure,” I replied quickly before signing.  I signed and handed it back before even thinking about it.  ”Wait! What the hell did I just sign?”

The man handed me an envelope.

”You've been served,” he said with a triumphant look upon his face.  ”Sorry man.”

”What is it?” Lucy asked as she finished up.

I began walking away without answering her.

”Thad!?” she called out to me.

Again, I ignored her and kept walking back toward camp.

---

Yes, I'm in a shit mood.  And it never ends well for those standing across from me when I'm in a shit mood.  History will teach you that a Duke in a bad mood… is a very dangerous thing.

Micheal Graves.  One on one with me for the first time since I was 17 years old.  If I could beat a man that never learns when I was green as grass, what does that tell you about my chances at Leap of Faith?  What does a Duke in a foul mood against a Micheal Graves that was never good enough anyway… make when the bell rings in Rome?

A disaster of a night for Mr. Graves.  A rough day at the office for Mr. Lane who will try and fail to control what, at times, even I can't control.

Micheal Graves has never been anything more than a guy with a misspelled first name. A guy that once tried to fuck me while trapped in Dolly Waters body. A guy that once kidnapped that same underage girl and if you think for one second that I have forgotten the sickness that ran rampant in the XWF in those days, or if I've forgotten the past simply because it's old news… then you really haven't been paying attention.

Because sadly for you Gravy, I never forget a thing.

I haven't forgotten getting my ass kicked by AX3 to protect Dolly Waters.  I haven't forgotten that there is debt that still needs to be paid.  And I sure as shit haven't forgotten how to collect an unpaid debt.

I am mostly a good man.

But not always.

Revenge, as they say, is a dish best served cold.  At Leap of Faith, I plan on dishing out the coldest revenge in a very long time.  At Leap of Faith, I plan on reminding Mr. Graves… and for that matter, Vinnie Lane… Just who really runs the show around here.

There's a reason one of us is world famous and the other isn't known outside the borders of the XWF.  Some of us are superstars that turn into megastars.  Some of us… are Micheal Graves.  Nothing more than an also-ran that has never brought anything of value to professional wrestling, much less the XWF.  He’s never drawn a dime, he’s never sold out an arena, never main evented in a sold out stadium.  All he’s ever done and all he’ll ever do is play second, third, fourth fiddle to his betters.  He’s a hanger-on that only leaves destruction in his wake and I can not, will not stand idly by and watch him ruin Warfare.

I took the helm on Warfare to help save it, to help save this company.  To save it from people like the disgraced former owner.  To save it from people like its current owner.  To save it from its own eventual demise.  If for no other reason, than to preserve my already incredible legacy.

For the first time, in a literal sense, in my history of uttering this phrase… Micheal Graves… welcome to the Thaddeus Duke Show.

---

Lucy caught up to me a couple minutes later, though I remained tight lipped about the lawsuit.  Back at camp, I checked in briefly with my kids and Seb.  All of them still asleep.  As I backed away from the tent, Seb called out to me.

”Thad he doesn't blame you,” he said through his sleep.  ”He just wants to blame you because you're the one around and he doesn't feel like blaming Lauren does any good because she doesn't seem to care anyway.”

Again, I said nothing.

”I'm gonna turn in,” Lucy said as she headed toward her tent.  ”Unless you need anything?”

”Nah, thanks though,” I said quietly as I reached into Seb’s tent and dragged a large blanket out and laid it out across the desert surface.  ”Night Lucy.”

For a few minutes I sat upon the blanket and used the flashlight on my phone, I read over the lawsuit.  Seconds later, Lucy returned and sat cross legged across from me.

”Thought you were goin’ to sleep,” I said with emotion in my voice evident.

”I sensed that something was off,” she said.  ”Do you wanna talk?”

Saying nothing, I handed her the lawsuit and my phone.

”Ooof,” she said.  ”I take it divorce was not on your bingo card?”

”Nah,” I replied.  ”This one hurts.”

She laid the lawsuit aside and switched off my flashlight.  Beneath the bright moonlight of the otherwise pitch black desert, our eyes adjusted quickly.

”I loved her,” I told her.

”Sometimes, love isn't enough,” she said, almost as if she spoke from recent experience with some trepidation in her voice.  ”From what I can tell, you're a good guy…”

”I'm not,” I interrupted.  ”Our whole first year I couldn't keep myself… to myself.  But I've been working hard to overcome that.  I'm in a program.  I even took libido supressors for fucks sake.”

”I didn't even know those were even a thing,” she stated.

”Maybe they're just a placebo to fool yourself into reprogramming your own brain.”

”Well, you recognized a problem and sought a way to fix it,” she replied.  ”Not everyone would do that.”

”She fought me on it, by the way,” I said of the suppressors.  ”She thought that by taking them, they'd make me unable to perform.”

”Was she right?”

”No,” I answered.

Lucy and I sat quietly for a few minutes beneath the midnight sun.  I hadn't realized at the time, but we were staring at each other.  Neither of us said a word, neither of us moved.  Maybe it was nothing more than a friend being there for a friend.  Maybe it was nothing at all…

Almost simultaneously, we both reached toward the other's face and fixed strands of hair.

…maybe there were some sparks between us after all.