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Thomas Nixon · (03-13-2017)

The scene opens up to Thomas Nixon standing adjacent to backstage interviewer, Steve Sayors. Nixon is wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a grey V-Neck shirt. A black, velvet eye patch covers his wounded eye. Steve is in a suit, with a microphone in hand. A hint of uncertainty flickers in Steve’s eyes.

From the day that Thomas Nixon walked into the XWF late last year, he has always show the utmost respect for Steve. They exchanged formalities and pleasantries. This is a stark difference between Nixon and other members of the XWF roster. For example, leading up to Nixon’s title defense against Brandon Moore, Moore beat Steve to a bloody pulp. But Nixon would never do such a thing. At least that’s what Steve thought up to this day.

Nixon wasn’t so formal when he arrived moments ago. He was short and to the point. But he didn’t seem upset; something simply seemed off. His tone had changed. There was something that Steve can’t put his finger on, but he sincerely hopes that Nixon hasn’t cracked.

Steve Sayors: “Welcome XWF fans to another exclusive XWF.com interview. Today, we are talking to Thomas Nixon about his match against Shade on Wednesday Night-“

But Nixon interrupted Sayors mid-sentence. Nixon’s voice causes the on-edge interviewer to flinch.

Thomas Nixon: “Steve, don’t tell me that all we’re going to talk about is my match with Shade. I’m sure that there are more pressing things that the XWF fans would like to hear about.”

Nixon pauses with a smirk on his face, waiting for Sayors to chime in.

“Do you need a hint, Steve? Do you remember what happened last time I was on XWF television?”

Steve Sayors: “Last time you appeared, ugh if I ugh recall correctly, you ran out of the arena after uhmmm stabbing, I guess that’s the best word for it, after stabbing McBride in the ugh mouth.”

Sayors stumbles over his words, while looking wearily towards Nixon. A sharp grin still rests at Nixon’s face.

Thomas Nixon: “Say it with confidence, Steve! That is exactly what I did, and it is certainly not something I will shy away from. With the thousands of you listening, I will confess to the crime I committed. I hopped the goddamn guard rail and I aimed a knife at poor McBride’s throat. Lucky for him, I missed a tad bit and caught him in the mouth and cheek. And then I bolted the hell out of there.

If there is anything that needs to be cleared up, it’s how I left. I wasn’t running from McBride, I would have loved to hang around and watch the blood pour all over the ringside area. But I was under the impression that XWF security, and maybe management, wouldn’t be so happy with the actions I chose to take. So I ran. Not because I’m a chickenshit coward. Because I had a plan, and I executed it.”

Nixon’s smirk turned into a smile. He didn’t seem angry, no, the lunatic seems proud of himself.

Thomas Nixon: “And now, McBride won’t be smiling when he sees my eyepatch. He won’t remember his moment of brutality. He’ll see my scar, and he’ll think of his own. Poor McBride, his face will never be the same. I just hope his dear wife isn’t too upset that I scratched up her little baby’s face. If she needs any reassurance, she knows where to find me.”

Nixon laughs, still smiling. Steve tries to take Nixon’s “happiness”, if that’s what you want to call it, as a sign to relax. Steve’s shoulders are still stiff, but he eases up just a bit.

Steve Sayors: “And now you are setting your crosshairs on Shade. You’re matched up with him on Warfare this week. He’s coming off an impressive showing against Chris Chaos, but he feel short in that bout. How are you feeling going into this bout?”

Thomas Nixon: “Y’know what Steve, I’m happy. Yep, I’m happy to go into this match. Because after this bout, I’m one match closer to getting my hands on McBride.

But enough about McBride. I promise. I’m done. There’s more to this match up, Shade isn’t a yellow brick in my road to the pay per view. See, I feel like a lot of people hear my name, and they see a man that is breaking down. They see a man that’s lost his way and his momentum. And the people that say that might be right. I lost my belt, and I’ve been on a bit of a cold streak.

I’m on the lower half of the card wrestling Shade. But I’m not looking at this as a demotion. This isn’t a step below what I’ve done in the past. Whether management sees potential in me or not, I’m always bringing excitement to the card. I may be looking a bit past Shade, but I’m excited to see what he brings. The fact of the matter is, I’m a former champion and it would do a lot for his career if he wiped my smile off my fucking face…And I’m more than happy to let him try.”

Nixon seems to pause, but instead his voice speeds up. He catches Steve off guard when Nixon pats him on the shoulder.

Thomas Nixon: “You see, the XWF is a land of opportunity. There are no glass ceilings, your potential is endless. Peter FUCKING Gilmore won the world championship here. Anybody can do anything, that’s the beauty of this all. Shade can give it his all against me, I can channel all my hate and rage into a perfectly legal fight, and if I’m lucky McBride will try to get a piece of me after the match. We live in a universe where anyone can get the upperhand on anybody.

That’s why I realize my ignorance. In the past, I believed that everything came down to skill and technique. It was all about my gameplan, my strategy, and my motivation…”

Nixon laughs as he trails off a bit.

“But now, I see it so clearly now. With my one good eye, everything has come into focus. It’s not about proving myself and proving a point to the world. This place is about self indulgence. I can act on my primal nature, and I can downright SNAP in the fucking ring. Tell me, Steve, who the FUCK is going to stop me?!”

Nixon’s smile stretches ear to ear, and he finds himself grabbing Steve’s lapels with both hands. The small backstage correspondent finds his feet lifted from the ground, as he dangles in Nixon’s grasp. But Steve has no words, there is just pure, unadulterated fear in his eyes. He slams his eyes shut, and braces for the inevitable impact.

But Thomas Nixon sets him down real nice.

Nixon pats him on the shoulder.

Thomas Nixon: “Don’t worry, Steve. I’m saving my energy because there are a lot more important people to take care of…

Thanks for having me, Steve.”

With a smirk still on his face, Nixon pats Sayors on the head. Nixon walks off the set, as Steve stands in almost disbelief. He would feel better if he got slammed into the wall; that would have been normal, run of the mill stuff. Nixon was downright manic, probably a bit psychotic.

Sayors turns to the camera and raises the mic to his mouth, but he fails to say anything as the scene fades to black.

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