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B.O.B. D · (03-02-2021)

Warfare had not been kind to Big D, but that was nothing new. Only this time it wasn't the show itself, or even Smokin' Bob that had screwed him; no, this was a much GREATER power. It was a weird thing to say, considering D didn't find anything great about BOB(Smokin' or otherwise), but he had finally reached the point of understanding. No matter how silly some of them may seem, or how stupid the names they'd chosen had been(for themselves, as well as the group itself)................... the Brotherhood of Baddies were a threat. They had gone from being a handful of

running around pretending to be supervillains, to a mega group capable of destroying a wrestler's career with a single video.

Big D didn't say a word to anyone after the show. Not to Ned, not to Steve Sayors, not even his wife. No, D sat in silence the entire car ride home and immediately went to bed the moment they arrived. He wasn't in the mood to talk, he wasn't in the mood to think, he wasn't even in the mood to FIGHT............... but that's what he was being forced to do.

It was bad enough having BOB make a mockery of him and the belt he'd carried around proudly for the past several months, but it had only been made 100x worse when Duke came out and rubbed salt into the already wide open wounds. On a normal night, Big D might care about that post-match beatdown. Any other day, he would've stormed the lockeroom the moment he came to and put Thad back into refirement like he did all them months ago, regardless of what Thad wanted to claim.

But Big D had no animosity towards the former Universal Champion, as a matter of fact, he didn't blame him for what he'd done. This business was all about taking advantage of an opportunity, and that's exactly what Duke did. Why call someone out for a match, when you can just kick their ass after they'd already been beaten to the point of being completely defenseless? It was the Duke way, afterall. Daddy Duke did it to a helpless old man, and now Baby Duke had done the exact same thing. Like father, like son.

The day after the most devastating loss of his career, the man called D awoke to his wife staring at him(ironic, considering how much SHE hated being stared at). She had a smile on her face, one that shined with hope that her husband may actually talk to her.

But he didn't.

This wasn't losing the Internet Championship to MeFisto bad, it was much, MUCH worse. He didn't just lose his World Title, or fail to take Page's belt, he'd given up his entire well being just for that momentary spot at the top............. something he'll never get again. It was already a long shot for him to make it into the Hall of Legends someday even with a Universal Title run, now it had become nearly IMPOSSIBLE. And the worst part, the thing that ate away at him most was: he had it. People would argue it 'til the day he died, but Big D knew deep down that the only reason he lost was because of that damn BOB video. That was always the hardest pill for any wrestler to swallow, losing a match thanks to circumstances beyond their control. Unfortunately for him and the many others before him who'd suffered a similar fate, it was simply part of the business. But, dammit, that didn't make it any easier; as a matter of fact, it only made it that much HARDER.

Big D knew exactly what was on his wife's mind: retirement. Though she tried to be sensitive of her husband's feelings, it was blatantly obvious that she wanted him to give up and come home. Permanently. D promised her he'd hang up the boots once he became Universal Champion and, now that he'd never actually be ABLE to, what was the point in continuing? She wasn't selfish for it, though, even the former World Champion himself wondered the same thing.

D refused to give an answer, despite the fact no question had technically been asked; instead giving his wife a light peck on the forehead and heading into the shower. He didn't clean himself up at all, but rather stood there as the water dripped down his naked, vulnerable body. The wounds he'd suffered at the hands of half the roster Wednesday night seethed with pain as water made contact with them, but Big D didn't react at all. There was no reason to, the scars on his body didn't hurt nearly as much as the ones on his psyche.

After about an hour, Krystal dragged her husband out of the shower and forced him to get dressed, at least as much as she could. His unwillingness to do anything for himself ended up getting him a pair of underwear on his head, a sock halfway off his foot, and a shirt just barely around his neck. Somehow, she'd managed to get a pair of shorts on, even if they were backwards. Progress was progress, I suppose.

Big D sat down at the kitchen table while his wife poured him a big ole bowl of Frosted Flakes, which he refused to eat. She did everything she could to get some food in him, including the choo choo train approach, but it was all for nothing. There was nothing she, or anybody else could do to get D out of his funk. This worried her, as she was schedule to work soon and didn't want to leave the love of her life alone while he was in such a mood. Unfortunately for her, she had no choice.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Krystal asked the former World Champion as she was heading out the door. Knowing she wouldn't leave until he gave some sort of a response, Big D gave her a slight nod and waved her away. "OK, stay safe, honey. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He may have been depressed to the point where he wanted to burn his face off with a hot iron, but Big D wasn't gonna NOT tell his wife he loved her, especially considering she was all he had left. Those four words were enough to convince her everything would be fine, allowing her to leave the house in peace, though even THAT wouldn't prevent her from worrying her entire shift.

Big D had no plans to harm himself, in fact, he didn't have any plans at all. The only thing D intended to do all day was stare at the TV while. mindlessly channel surfing until he felt better. Given the amount of grief he was in, that could take all night.

D flipped through every channel at least a hundred times, quite a thumb workout considering all the cable packages he and his wife had purchased. He passed by Powerade commercials featuring the one and only MeFisto, as well as a variety of low budget cable access programs, made for TV movies, and even a couple skin flicks(which he was too depressed to stop and jerk off to).

Almost 2 and a half hours into his channel surfing marathon, Big D stopped on an advertisement for the upcoming Warfare. Members of BOB and the Left Hand were scheduled for action, as well as the bastard who took the Hart Championship from Ned. Seemed like a typical show, until he saw the Opening Match: Big D vs Thaddeus Duke. Normally D would take exception to being booked at the top of the card(especially considering he'd JUST been competing in the Main Event a week before), but that wasn't what bothered him. He could've been put in a fair rematch against Page, or even a grudge match against ANY of the mother fuckers who cost him the Universal AND World Titles, but instead he was against Duke.

There was no real rhyme or reason for a bout against Duke; given their history, it was already obvious that D was the better man. Not only did he beat Thad in their last match, he basically won their first one, too! No matter what the doubters believed, it was hard to argue that Big D didn't almost become TV Champion a month sooner than he did, had it not been for Mastermind. He knew it, the Fed knew it, and he was almost certain even DUKE knew it. The Cold Big D Truth was Thad beat Big D the first time the same way Chris Page beat him last Wednesday. If anything was ever a fluke, it was those two victories.

So, what was D's motivation to show up Wednesday night? Other than the fact he was facing the former Universal Champion, there was none; and even THAT didn't mean much. What good would beating the former Champion do when Big D wasn't gonna get a shot again, anyway? He already knew he could beat Duke without interference, the same way he knew he could've beaten Page without it, too. But it's never that simple. Hell, for all he knew there was an ambush waiting for him come next Warfare, or a video ready to be played right before he could put Thad down for good. Why bother?

Big D had alot to say, but no reason to say it and that was fine with him. He didn't feel like talking then, he didn't feel like talking now, and he certainly wasn't gonna feel like talking Wednesday night. He'd gone his entire life pissing people off with his words, maybe it was time he let his actions speak for themself.

And that's exactly what he's gonna do come Warfare.

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