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Centurion · (07-27-2019)

(“Go visit Nikita”.

It was a phrase Centurion heard over and over again by people who have slowly been coming back into his life – whether it was Walter, or Jocelyn, or even his nemesis George Lattimore. Everyone has been telling him to bite the bullet and see his ex-wife. Knowing this will be hanging over his head, Centurion has decided to finally give in and see her before his big match with Fuzz.

We open up on a closeup shot of Centurion. He is sitting on the ground, back against a wall. He looks nervous. He is wearing a suit and sunglasses, and is facing off into the distance as he finds his words.)

Centurion: This might be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

(Centurion speaks on a somber voice.)

Centurion: I’m not going to ask you to forgive me. Honestly, I never will forgive myself. The life we had…it was almost perfect. And yet, I had to throw it away for some French activist who was using me to get a better spot in the business.

(Centurion moves his head forward and hits it off the wall he’s leaning against, closing his eyes in the process.)

Centurion: I’m a lot of things – I’m prideful, I’m experiences, I’m savvy…but I’m not a particularly smart person. I can mask it for the most part, but when it comes to stuff like this, I’m an idiot.

(Centurion takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking up at the sky.)

Centurion: I don’t even know what I’m saying. I was hoping the words would come to me when I came here today, but…I don’t know what to say. Maybe this was a mistake. I have been dreading this day since I came back in town. But everyone told me I should come here, even though I knew the last thing you would want to see was my face.

(Centurion sits for a few seconds, and nothing is said. Just silence. Centurion is clearly uncomfortable, as his mouth twitches and his face spasms. He looks around, waiting to hear something, but doesn’t get what he was hoping for. So, he decides to continue speaking.)

Centurion: This isn’t going to surprise you, but I’m back wrestling again. I know, I just can’t stay away. But it’s the one thing I have left that’s a constant in my life. I lost you, I lost Nellie, I lost my business, my home…everything. MY evil deeds and my hubris sent me crashing to rock bottom, like you always warned. Walter wants me to keep fighting to get everything back. The thing is…I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if I deserve any of it. I think I am where I am in my life because of the horrible decision I’ve made, and by reclaiming all that I’ve lost, I wouldn’t be reminded of what I did wrong. Maybe that’s irrational…I don’t know if I’ve had a rational thought in years.

(Centurion puts his hands behind his head and stretches his legs out on front of him. His awkwardness is replaced by a more relaxed look.)

Centurion: I’m a damaged person, Nikita. I strive for adulation and don’t know what to do when I get it. I want to be loved, but I have no idea how to love back. I want…everything. And yet, I freak out when I get it. I know this isn’t news to you. It certainly isn’t news to me. But I’m more…I don’t know, comfortable with it? Does that makes sense? I used to always fight. I used to always want to “get better”. Now, I just accept it as part of my life. I’ll die like this. I’ll likely die alone, too, but that goes without saying at this point. Perhaps that’s for the best. I see what happens when people get close to me. Having any of this horrible brain rub off on anyone is just…it’s not good. Lock me away and throw away the key so I don’t hurt anyone else.

(Centurion gets a wry smile on his face.)

Centurion: I’m sure you would have done that if you had the chance. Hell, when everything went down with Isabelle and I, I always wondered if you were going to sneak up behind me with a weapon and take me out for good. Every night I laid my head down on the pillow, I wondered if it was the last time I would do so. Some nights, I even welcomed it. Better for you to do it to me than for me to do it to myself, and believe me, the thought had crossed my mind a few times. At least then I knew I was being thought about. Maybe that’s why I make such a good pro wrestler. Maybe that’s why I keep coming back after all these years. Because every punch I take, every bump I take, every opponent that beats the unholy hell out of me in that ring…is me putting myself through more levels of self punishment.

(Centurion sighs and stands. The camera begins to pull out, and we begin to see more of where Centurion is – he is outside, in a field of some sort. As the camera continues to pan out, it becomes more clear – it is a cemetery. Centurion is standing in front of a grave. He is looking out towards the sun and takes a deep breath before he turns around. He faces the grave he was sitting in front of, with the engravings clearly readable.

In Memory Of:
Nikita Petrenko
March 6, 1989 – November 14, 2017
Interned: Lutsk, Ukraine

Centurion: You deserved better. You deserved more than a slob of a husband who couldn’t appreciate you for what you were. You deserved more than to see your country be torn apart by political unrest and foreign invaders. You deserved more than to die before you could truly reach your potential. And if I could take it all away, and switch places, I absolutely would. But I also know you wouldn’t let me do that, because I wouldn’t have learned all the things I needed to learn. Even with all the bad in the world, you were a believer of destiny. I don’t see how this could be anyone’s destiny. I don’t know how things turned out for you over there. I hope you found love. I hope you found peace. And I hope whatever causes you died for appreciates the sacrifice and fights like hell in your honor, because THAT is what you deserve.

(Centurion pats the top of the gravestone and places his forehead on it. He then looks next to the gravestone at another grave. He sighs and leans down, kissing the top of that stone, before standing up straight.)

Centurion: Take care of your mother for me.

(Centurion turns and walks away as the camera pans back to the second grave, the one Centurion just left.)

Nikolas Cortinovis
September 5 – October 9, 2009
Beloved son. Always in our hearts.

------Oh, Can You Hear My Heart Say?------

I don’t consider myself to be a “good” man.

I think I’m incredible flawed. We all are, but I am flawed in so many ways, you could write a book about it. The mistakes I’ve made in my life could make for an interesting movie. But I’m learning. And I’m growing. And I’m trying my best to leave a positive impact on those around me, even if I screw up more than I get right.

That’s the difference between Fuzz and I. Fuzz doesn’t try. He doesn’t care. His idea of “leaving an impact” has nothing to do with the human experiences or the people around him. It’s all about “legacy”. It’s all about wins and losses and titles. That’s why it was so easy for him to become a drug addicted psychopath – as long as he felt good, damn the consequences. There is no “humanity” there, even if Fuzz tries to put on a smiling face.

People may see the way I approach life as being “weak”, but let me approach you with this – if someone if only motivated by wins and losses in a wrestling ring, aren’t the losses going to be that much more catastrophic? We’re seeing that play out now between Fuzz and I. We both faced Tony Santos for the Hart Title, but while I was able to take my loss in stride, Fuzz is on the verge of a complete psychological breakdown. Fuzz wants to spin it to think that it’s somehow the fault of the company, the ownership, the fans, whoever else he can throw under the bus, but this is only because Fuzz hasn’t come face to face with his own mortality like I have.

See, I know I’m getting older. I’m not as fast as I once was. I’m not as strong as I once was. I’m a little bit grayer, and a little bit beat up, but in the words I once heard in a Dream, “Brother, I’m bad, and they know I’m bad.” Fuzz? Fuzz still thinks it’s 2001. Sure, he knows his career is coming to an end, but he thinks he’s making that choice on his own. He thinks he’s still at the top of the game, and that he’s going to climb the ladder once again, only to run off into the drug filled sunset with hookers and blow and whatever else he’s into.

But it doesn’t work that way. Fuzz is a little slower, too. He’s a little beat up, too. And he’s a little delusional, but that’s not an age thing. He’s always had that.

Time comes for us all. Some of us are ready. Some of us are not. When my adopted father died, he had been sick for a while. He had his estate in order. He had everything paid off, and he made sure all those close to him were comfortable for when he finally passed. When it happened, he was surrounded by family and friends, feeling loved and touched by those he has positively influenced. He was a simple man who lived a modest life, and he died well.

When my real father died, he was dumped in the Yangtze River with a bullet in his brain and an entire international community toasting the death of the miserable bastard. He lived fast and loose, thinking he was untouchable, and caring about no one other than himself.

I have a feeling when Fuzz dies, it will be more likely he is fished out of a river with a net than he is being surrounded by people who love him.

But I’m not here to talk about death. I doubt either of us will be heading to the great beyond on Sunday, so perhaps it is best to talk about the match we will be engaged in rather than our eventual endings. Fuzz and I have been in the same federations for a very long time. We have always fought one another. We never got along. Every time I look to make a name for myself, Fuzz finds a way to come out of whatever gutter he’s living in and cut me off at the pass. With all that in mind – with literally YEARS of backstory between the two of us, what does Fuzz lead off with when he had the opportunity to address me?

…the fact that I never won a Universal Title. And the fact that I’ve had a lot of friends who have had better careers than I.

Wow. I’m absolutely flabbergasted. See, I expect the same, petty insults from those who barely know me - those that read my bio and watch some old XWF shows, who only know me as a name and as a person on the screen. It’s been the generic, bland insult that people have used against me for over ten years, and it will likely be used against me at my funeral by the preacher. But by Fuzz?

I expected more out of him. I expected him to come with PASSION and FIRE! After all, he was the one who struck first. He was the one who decided to make me a target of his “new found rage”. He was the one who wanted to dig up old graves rather than forge new paths. Yet, when he finally gets the opportunity to hit me with everything he’s got and tell the world why this is the road he’s taken, he comes with…nothing.

Typical. See, Fuzz is an agitator. Have you ever gone to a local city council meeting, or watched the news and heard pundits talking about politics? There’s always someone who has to scream and yell about how terrible things are. That’s Fuzz. He’s the guy who hates the current mayor, hated the former mayor, and will hate the NEXT mayor, because life just isn’t getting better for him, despite not doing a damn thing to help himself.

Now, imagine if the city decides to take that person and put THEM in charge. The person who has been screaming and yelling for change is suddenly in charge. How well does that normally go? I can tell you – poorly. It’s why Trump is a shit president, it’s why Bernie would make a shit president, and why Fuzz makes a shit professional wrestler. Because he never had anything to actually SAY to me. His problem isn’t even me. His problem is that he wants to be the old legend showing back up to the XWF, and being rewarded with praises and adoration by the youngsters in the back, and I beat him to it.

Which is a trend for me, come to think of it, because while Fuzz might want to toss out the old “I never won the Universal Title” insult that is ever so popular, I managed to beat him into the Hall of Legends, despite his career starting two years prior to mine. He doesn’t like to talk about it much – I’m sure he’s still a little salty about it, to be honest. I would be, too. Plenty of people have since won the Universal Title – Peter Gilmour, Vinny Lane, Gabe Reno (I don’t even know who that is) – even Trax, a WGWF flameout, got a cup of coffee with the belt. Point is, so many people have now won the Universal Title that it’s no longer the “exclusive” club it once was.

How many people can say they’ve been inducted into the XWF Hall Of Legends? Not nearly as many. Granted, it could use some changing. You could add Robert Main into the Hall and get rid of Trent Gein.

Oh, while we’re on the topic of old names from the past, Fuzz’s other point was that my career was constantly overshadowed by the people I teamed up with. I do not hide the fact that I worked with many great talents over the years, but I think what Fuzz fails to remember is that I helped create a lot of those talents that became superstars. Steve Jason? James Raven? You say I “rode their coattails”, but they were just rookies when I started working with them. Same for Tomoko Hanahara, who you failed to recognize in your little rant. I’m not going to be so boastful as to say they “are who they are because of me”, but I was on the ground floor WAY before they ever became megastars. I saw talent in them and helped them open doors. They then burst through, forming the now legendary careers they have behind him.

Also, Jem Williams? When was I ever friends with that guy? If anything, we were rivals way more than we were friends. And RAZIEL?! Fuck THAT guy! I never liked that blond haired prick! He was an arrogant little pissant that had one great year in the wrestling business and has been getting bookings because of it ever since. Not only was I never friends with him, but I’m a little pissed off that you consider him to be a bigger superstar in the overall lexicon of the XWF than me. I have a feeling your bias may have SOMETHING to do with that. That’s like saying Zach Rizza is a bigger star than me. Please. Either learn your history or get tested for CTE.

One final thing. Fuzz claims he’s back in order to prove he’s “just as good as he was”. I remember Fuzz at his peak. He was one of the best wrestlers in the world. He could go toe to toe with gods and hold his own. He carried the company on his back in the early days of the federation, and had knock down, drag out fights with the likes of The Brand and Cooper. Fuzz from 20 years ago was an absolute world beater.

This Fuzz? He’s a shell of his former self. Normally I would say “and he knows it”, but I don’t think he does. I think his mind is truly warped to the point where he believes he’s still that great. But he’s not, and it isn’t even close. The Fuzz of 1999 would take down the Fuzz of 2019 in a second. Hell, the Fuzz of 2007 would take down the Fuzz of 2019 in a second, and I beat the Fuzz of 2007. He claims this is his Alamo – his last stand. I hope he’s right. Not because I feel pity for the man, but because I want him to go away forever. I don’t want to ever have to deal with Fuzz again. I want Fuzz to meet his…

FINAL FANTASY!!

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