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B.O.B. D · (02-03-2021)

This is what it's all about. The reason we wake up at 5 a.m. and work ourselves to death before the day's even begun; the reason we put our bodies through so much abuse each and every night. We don't leave our families behind, hoping we come back in one piece, just to return as a failure; we do it for the opportunity to go home as a winner. This is it, this is wrestling.......................

I almost forgot what it was like to be in the spotlight. Sure, I'd been Champion here and there, but you don't really get the same sort of fame holding the TV or Xtreme Title that you do the Universal Championship. Hell, sometimes it feels like the #1 Contender gets more attention than the lower card belts. Which, being the person currently in that position, I'm not gonna complain about, it's just a shame that the other Champions' hard work doesn't get recognized like it should. As a World Champion who gets treated worse than a 24/7 Title holder by Fuzz, I emphathize with them. But here I am, riding in the back of a limousine to my first high profile interview since my last Uni shot. Not too bad for a "fake Champion."

My limo pulled up to XWF Headquarters, where the driver got out and opened my door for me before I could even get the chance to do it myself. As a former commoner, I wasn't a big fan of people serving me like I was some sort of King, so I made sure to reach into my wallet and pull out a generous tip as I exited the vehicle.

"Thank you very much," I thanked him, handing over a wad of $500.

He took the bills, awestruck by the ridiculous amount, before stopping me as I went to enter the building. "Are you sure about this? I mean, you haven't even won the Title yet............."

His words hit me like a brick. They may have seemed harmless to the average dunderhead, but I could hear what he was REALLY saying, coded between the lines.

"You're gonna need this more than I do."

There I stood, a World Title around my waist, and not even this peasant believed it was real.

"You know what? You're right!" I said as I turned to face my doubter. I reached out and took back the entire wad of cash, before replacing it with a single, sad George Washington. "I'm gonna need all the money I can get after Page whoops my ass!!!!!"

As I walked away, the driver tried desperately to get back the outrageous tip I originally left him. "But, sir, I didn't mean anything like that!"

"Too late!" I called back, opening the door to headquarters. "I hope for your sake you're not the one driving Page home after Warfare, because you'll be lucky to even get a dollar after I've taken him for all he's got!" I declared before entering the building.

As soon as I entered the luxurious lobby, I was greeted by a rather mousey looking secretary. "Big D!" she exclaimed as if I was someone who actually mattered. "You're right on time!"

"I would've been early, but there was a dispute over the tip I left for my driver," I shrugged.

Her smile slowly turned into a frown. "I'm sorry to hear that. Would you like me to fire him?"

"No, no," I insisted, remembering he was my ride back home. "We were able to settle it like grown men."

Her smile reappeared, the perkiness she first had back again as though it had never left. "That's great! Now, if you'll follow me, I can lead you to the interview area."

I motioned for her to show me the way. "By all means."

She led me down a long hallway enshrined with various pictures that encapsulated some of XWF's greatest moments. Robert Main cashing in on the original Engineer, Unknown Soldier cashing in on Main, Shawn Warstein cashing in on the fake Engineer, Lacklan cashing in on HIM, and, of course, Gilly's death. I hoped to have a memory of my own preserved within these great halls myself, someday; preferably one that doesn't involve me being impaled in front of a live audience.

"These are great!" I lied, mimicking the overenthusiasm displayed by my guide.

"Aren't they?"

"Oh yeah," I falsely agreed, a bit of sarcasm showing. "I absolutely LOVE when the top Championship is won by means of a sneak attack!"

"I know!" she exclaimed, unaware of the fact I was actually talking shit. "Did you know you're up here somewhere?"

My mouth gaped open like a happy little South Park character. I couldn't believe it, Big D got a spot on the Wall of Fame!!!! What could it possibly be for? My TV Title victory over the former Universal Champion? When I overcame the odds and won the company's second most prestigious belt?(World Championship aside, of course) Perhaps the time I led a ragtag group of wrestlers to one of the most unlikely wins in War Games history???

As she led me to my own personal picture, my heart pounded inside my chest with anticipation. I continued to ponder what I'd done up to that point that deserved to be memorialized when we finally arrived to it.

"Ta da!!!!!" she proclaimed, as if revealing something of historical significance.

Staring back at me was a picture of Karen Hunt on her debut Savage, firing me from my position as General Manager.

"You have GOT to be kidding................"

The woman looked concerned, unsure as to why I wasn't happy with my "moment". "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

I stared at the picture, thinking about how quick management was to strip me of my power the moment they thought I'd crossed their proverbial line. Just as I was about to freak out on the poor girl, I remembered what had happened before that photo was taken: my first ever XWF World Title reign. Sure, they weren't necessarily paying tribute to that(or else the picture would've been of me revealing the belt), but in a way they WERE.

"No, it sums up my career pretty well, actually," I admitted, thinking about all the times throughout my career, XWF and beyond, a member of management had stifled me. Despite the fact it was, honestly, perfect, that wasn't gonna stop me from giving them a better memory to hang up one day.

"Well, I'm glad," the secretary said with delight before walking over to a random door, opening it, and popping her head in. "Mr. Sayors, Big D is here."

Mr. Sayors? Since when did anyone give Steve any sort of respect?

"Send him in, Jean," I heard the familiar sound of XWF's "favorite" broadcast journalist's voice bellow through the open door.

"Mr. Sayors will see you now."

"Thaaaaaaaaanks," I droned, unimpressed by the fact XWF's bitch managed to find a bitch of his own to suck up to him.

I entered the room, which was set up like your typical 20/20 interview area. There were multiple cameras, each in a position to capture it's own unique shot of yours truly. The cameras also came with their own cameraman, which reminded me of Donovan Blackwater's claims from my last Universal Title shot about how my promos are SO boring, it makes the cameramen kill themselves. Considering none of the Brother's Blackwater has been even remotely close to achieving what I have since that moment, all I could do was laugh about it.

In the middle of all the cameras sat two chairs, one of them open, with the other occupied by Steve Sayors. As soon as I walked in, he stood up and greeted me with his hand out.

"It's good to see you, D," he warmly welcomed. "Especially under these circumstances."

I met his hand with my own. "Thanks, Steve, you too." I looked from him through the doorframe at the woman he addressed as 'Jean' as she slowly disappeared out of sight. "She's a prostitute, isn't she? Because I KNOW nobody's gonna call you 'sir' without there being an exchange of money!"

"Well there was money involved.................... it's called a salary, D," Steve wittily quipped with the confidence of XWF's best promoers. It was weird. "And, obviously, there's no sex," he added unnecessarily.

"Leave it to Steve Sayors to pay a woman and not even get a handjibber out of it!" I chuckled, causing him to blush. "It really IS good to see you, Steve, I feel like everytime I've had a big moment, you've always been there to ask me about it. Good or bad. While not everyone gives a shit about what Big D's doing, you do and I wanted you to know I appreciate it. Truly. I consider you obe of my first friends here, even before Ned."

I could tell Steve was emotional, afterall, I hadn't always been the nicest guy to him. From getting him arrested for MY pot, to physically assaulting him on MULTIPLE occasions, he'd always been more of a punching bag than a reporter to me. But despite the abuse, both physical AND mental, nothing ever stopped hik from coming back for more, and I grew to respect him for it.

"Gee, D, I don't know what to say!" he shrugged, wiping a lone tear from his eye. "I'm just doing my job."

I leaned forward and put my head on his shoulder, shooting him a friendly smile. "Well then, how 'bout you continue to do your job and ask me some questions?"

He matched my smile with one of his own and nodded. "Absolutely," he agreed before turning towards the head cameraman. "Are we ready to roll?" The man peered through his camera and gave Steve a thumbs up. "Looks like we're good to go!"

"Excellent."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sitting here with the current XWF World Heavyweight Champion; THE Number One Contender to the Universal Championship, Big D," Sayors began as the cameras started rolling. "How does that sound to hear, D?"

"Which part?" I asked, adjusting myself in my seat. "Someone ACTUALLY referring to me as World Champion, or the fact I'm FINALLY getting the Universal Title shot I've practically been begging for since i was screwed out of Lethal Lottery?"

My own question threw Steve for a loop. "Uuuuuuuuuuum, both, I suppose."

"Well, I'd say it feels good to be referred to as Champ, it just kinda sucks it's by YOU as opposed to my peers," I snarked, going back to my old ways of bashing Steve. "As for my shot, well, it's about damn time! I've been waiting for management to make things right ever since Blackwater and the referee cost me the opportunity to host D Day!"

"D Day?"

"That would've been the name of MY Pay-per-view had I won," I explained, receiving an understanding nod from Sayors. "And then you've got people like Corey who's received multiple Title shots, has been Champion, and still feels the need to bitch about having to 'wait in line;' when this is just MY 2nd one since I've been here! And what the hell did I have to do to get it?!? I had to come up with the elaborate plan to become a member of management, declare myself World Champion, AND piss the Uni Champ off just enough that they'd blindly accept my challenge to prove who the REAL head honcho of XWF is!!!!! Isn't it crazy that I had to do THAT, while others get handed opportunities like free samples at the grocery store?!?!?"

Steve sat there for a moment in thought, before eventually agreeing with me. "I guess when you put it that way, it DOES sound kind of insane."

"Thank you!"

"That being said, here you are, in the present, about to square off with Chris Page," Steve continued. "At one point you and Page were allies in the fight against Gilly, Shane

, and company, does that mean there's some sort of respect between the two of you?"

This question made me want to vomit. I thought back to that short time period where I thought being associated with Cataclysm was going to bolster my career, only for it to end up being more of the same old bullshit.

"Well, I can't speak for Page," I spoke, leaning back in my chair. "But there's certainly no respect from ME."

"And why is that?"

"Because he's a lying sack of shit," I sneered, remembering all the broken promises he made. "When I agreed to join forces with him and Main, he promised it would make me a star. Said that being associated with him and Robert would elevate me to where I was trying to go...................... but what did it REALLY get me?! A mid-card match against Peter Gilmour, something I could've gotten just as easily on my own! I didn't need Cataclysm to lull around in XWF limbo, I'd been doing that since I got here! And the worst part was, after he used me for what he needed, rather than mentor me like he claimed he was going to, he left me in the dust so him and Robert could go 'dominate' a division that didn't even exist! So to answer your question, no Steve, I don't have ANY respect for Chris Page."

Steve looked rather shocked by my rant, likely expecting a simple yes or no with maybe a short explanation muddled in with it. But I've NEVER been a yes or no kind of guy, I'm not a dog or a limo driver who actually knows how to keep their mouth shut, I'm Big fuckin' D. And come Warfare they were all gonna find out that meant I was a big fuckin' deal!

"You certainly don't pull any punches," Sayors spoke, trying to recollect himself enough to ask the next question.

"You can't afford to in this business, Steve."

"No, I don't suppose you can," he concurred before turning to his next question. "Nevertheless, Chris Page IS the Universal Champion............"

"Let me stop you right there, Steve," I interjected, holding my hand up. "Yes, it's impressive Page FINALLY won the big one, but I think it's safe to say had I gotten as many opportunities as HE did to win it, eventually I'd have won the damn thing, too! Hell, I would've done it in half the time! With all those shots, he was bound to catch his opponent sleeping at some point. And let's not act as if defeating Thad Duke is some sort of accomplishment, I did it to become TV Champion and no-one batted an eye! But put a different belt on him and all of a sudden it's the greatest thing since sliced bread! I made Duke tuck his tail and hide for MONTHS, yet Page gets all the credit for doing something I did over a YEAR AGO!!!!! Fuck, I would've put Duke down TWICE had it not been for Mastermind sticking his nose where it didn't belong, but do you see anyone holding a parade for ME???"

"I'm sure it'd be different if you were Universal Champion."

"Would it, though?" I asked, taking off my World Title and showing it off for the cameras. "This is a World Championship, it says so right on the plate, but it doesn't get treated like one. Why is that? Because of the way I won it? The Universal Title changes hands all the time via cash-in, but you don't hear people discrediting THAT BELT! Soldier, Fuzz, Lacklan..................... all legitimate contenders who could've just as easily taken the high road and won the Title in an actual fight, but decided to take the coward's route, instead. What makes THEM any different than ME? Because the World Championship hasn't been relevant in years?!? Well guess what? It got me this match, and I didn't have to cheap shot someone to do it. If my reign as World Champion is a scam, what does that make theirs?"

"I'll give Page credit for winning the Title the old fashioned way," I admitted, before ripping into him once more. "But that all went out the window the moment he aligned himself with BOB. I see why they call him Page, because he turns so much you'd think he was a book! When I first arrived, Chris wasn't trying to save the XWF like we'd been doing against Shane and company, he was trying to DESTROY it! Now he's back to his wicked ways with BOB who, I don't know WHAT their plan is, but I can assure you it isn't good. And this is the man who won lockeroom leader over ME??? What a fuckin' joke."

"You've got alot of pent up anger," Steve pointed out, only helping to fuel it that much more. "Is this match gonna help remedy some of that pain?"

I wanted to snap at him, hell, the Mr. Hyde part of me wanted to snap HIM in half, but that would only make what he said that much more true. "Not unless I win," I stated with a head shake. "This match could have EASILY been the Main Event of March Madness, but instead we're relegated to Smokin' Bob's shitty ass show. Title vs Title and XWF is giving it away for free on National television! I get it, Bob & Derrick were desperate to have Big D compete on Warfare, but this is an absolute travesty............" I paused for a moment and thought about the Christmas Warfare and how great it'd feel to finally become Universal Champion on the show that tried to screw me out of a Title shot in the first place. "Then again, it WOULD be poetic justice, I suppose."

"There's some positivity!" Sayors burst with delight. "One last question, D..................... what happens if you DON'T win?"

That was the million dollar question, wasn't it? I'd already failed in my first attempt to capture the gold, what WOULD happen if I fell short, again? I took a big gulp before making an announcement that would have HUGE ramifications on the rest of my career................

"If I don't beat Chris Page for the Universal Championship..............." I started, my voice shaking with nervous anticipation. "I'll never compete for the belt again."

I could hear gasps from the other side of the cameras, as Steve looked at me in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?" I shot back, unsure as to what was so hard to understand. "If I don't become Universal Champion, THAT'S IT, the game's over."

"Are you saying you would retire?"

"No," I corrected him. "I'm saying that if I don't do it here and now, I'm never going to and there's no point in continuing to chase something I'll never be able to obtain. I've made a career out of being the best damn mid-carder I could be, and if THAT'S the road I gotta take to make it into the Hall of Legends someday, then so be it. I did it in NWF, I can do it here, too."

"But make no mistake about it," I added. "I have no intention to lose, I'm just smart enough to realize that if COREY SMITH is still waiting for another shot, there's no way I'll ever make it back to the front of the line. This is it. I can't afford to waste this opportunity, or it will never present itself again. If I'm to ever headline an XWF PPV and show all the people who've doubted me, past AND present, that I AM capable of carrying a company on my shoulders, now's the time. Otherwise it's gonna be TV Titles and Xtreme Championships until my body finally falls apart. And that, sadly, ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth!"

A rather somber Sayors smiled faintly before putting his hand back out and shaking mine. "Thank you very much, Big D, and good luck."

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