THE SIGNING

The line was basically out the door. It was wrapping around the corner, and onto the beach. The weather was warm and muggy, like it usually is, but still had a cool breeze blowing in off the Gulf.

This was the last few days before Chris Chaos flew to Korea for the Lethal Lottery Pay Per View, but he was determined to make sure it was not his last few days as champion. So, since he was the champion currently, he had an obligation to carry out all the responsibilities of being a champion.

Something Gabe Reno knew nothing about.

The cabana area of the Sand Pearl Hotel, the 4 star hotel on Clearwater Beach, is where Chris sat at a table. He had Jenny on one side, making sure his Evian stayed stacked, and Bruce there to do crowd control. Chris had photos of himself with the Universal Title over his shoulder, among other photos, that he was signing for the XWF fans in the Bay Area.



Chris had no problem doing this for the XWF, the company that had given him a second chance and re-invented his love for the sport that has claimed a good portion of his adult life. Would Gabe Reno do an autograph signing? No. He is too self absorbed. He is too self-centered. He would probably sign an autograph for himself and then frame it. He loved himself that much.

Too bad nobody else loved him that much. Hell, nobody else even liked him.


Jenny even got in on the action when fans asked for hers. She was, in fact, training to be a wrestler. Right now, though, she was the hottest manager in the business and damn good at what she did. People love success.



Chris also didn't have a problem talking to the fans, fielding questions, even posing for photos. He was really embracing this whole champion thing. Part of him even...liked it?

Yeah, he liked it.

Just as he got done signing another photo for a kid, he looked up and saw the line had doubled.

Okay, maybe he didn't like it THAT much.

But he was still going to do it. It came with the title of being the best.

And the best, he was. He had proven that over these past few months. Many have come, and many have gone. Men, and women alike, have tried. And he had slain them all. It began with Dolly and it most recently ended with Oliver Last. Gabe Reno was next on the checklist. Chris was in a groove, in a zone, and felt right now the best he has ever felt in his career. It made him smile, something he didn't think was possible anymore. It felt good to smile.

Just then, a kid slipped a photo onto the table. Chris had been signing all morning and they all looked the same, but something was different about this one.

He pulled up his sunglasses for a minute. This was a very good photo of him........



It was from after he'd beaten Graves and defended this title. It was a solid picture, but not one that has been mass produced. Kid must have taken it himself from the audience.....

.....All the way out in California. Dedicated. Like Chris. He liked that.

Signing the picture for the kid, he fist-bumped him before pulling down his Oakley shades and signaling next. It was going to be a long day, but he was happy to do it.

When then a kid came to him in the line, and Chris looked up before pausing and titling his glasses up. On his shirt, it said "Radical Reno" big a picture of Gabe's big ugly mug. Chris set the pen down and looked at the kid, who has Chris's picture in his hand, and put his sunglasses on the top of his head. Running his hand over his goatee, he asked the kid a question.

"What are you doing in my line with that shirt on?"

The kid looked at Chris with a big goofy smile. The same one that Gabe uses.

"Gabe is my favorite" the kid said, "he relates to me. I feel like he understands me."

Chris didn't look surprised, but he didn't look amused either.

"And I don't relate to you?" Chris asked rather sternly, but with a touch of fun in his voice.

The kid shook his head. "I don't know, but sometimes you are kind of mean."

Chris laughed. Out of the mouth of babes, huh? Sheesh.

"So, why do you have a photo of me that you'd like me to sign?" He was interested, genuinely.

"Well, you are the best champion I have ever seen....." the kid said, "Gabe is my favorite but you are the best. And I would like an autograph from the best."

Chris was taken aback, really. He signaled to Bruce and whispered something in the old mans ear. Bruce returned shortly after Chris had completed the signature on the picture. It was a black XWF=Chaos tee shirt, with the letters in red, dripping font as if it were blood. Before Chris slid the photo back, he motioned with his finger for the kid to take the shirt off. After a slight bit of hesitation, he did. Chris tossed him the XWF=Chaos shirt and he put it on. Once the shirt was on, he slid the photo to him. "There, now you have the best tee shirt too." He smiled and waved at the kid before Bruce ushered him to the exit.

After an hour or so of this, Chris got up to stretch his legs.[/i]

As he walked though the hotel's pristine hallways, he began to talk into the XWF cameras that were following him.



"I am sure of it now. More sure than I have ever been. Gabe Reno either really IS , or has severe ADD. I thought for sure he was going to come out and attack me for what I said in my SPECIAL promo. About how I am a company man. I thought he was going to pull archive footage proving me to be a lying hypocrite. But no, you went completely off the rails and did a promo that was literally 2 minutes long, talking about some dumb shit. Who called who. It was a story of a lovers quarrel. It was proof that you don't even watch your opponents promos. You have these things pre-made, and you release them whenever you opponent releases one, just to save face. Well, let me tell you, you didn't save shit. You made yourself look even worse. I mean if you are going to spew hot garbage, at least make it worth people's time. That promo was what, a thousand words? Maybe 800. Hell, you were in and out quick. That is the story of why you don't get laid, isn't it? Nobody wants a one minute man, Gabe. In the ring or out of it.

So, since I actually DO watch your promos, and listen to your words, let me address what you did say. Regardless of if it made sense, let me try to work it out. You DID try to call me, you are right. And I did bitch click you, and send you straight to voicemail. What you failed to mention is the whining voicemail you left me--it sounded like you'd been crying--about how no matter what happens at Lethal Lottery you still want Iconolast to work. You still want to go for the tag titles. You still want to have glory and fame. Let me tell you what that shows to me, Gabe. It shows me you are a scared little boy. You know you can't win this match, so you are trying to latch onto me like a leach so that you can matter to at least someone after I leave you in a pile of your own blood and waste at Lethal Lottery.

You had the gall to say that because I have no interest in talking to you on the phone like a female in the tub during soap opera commercials, that I am somehow soft? No. I do not converse with the enemy, Gabe. It is you who tough talks in front of a camera but calls and texts me 40 times a day to "see what I am doing." You certainly have an add way of showing disdain. If I wasn't mistaken, not only are you but you might be homosexual as well. I am not judging, I am just pointing out the facts. You insult like a third grader. And your little "written" messages....why not use quotes I actually say? Not quotes you think I said in your delusional mind. You are so far out to space that even the sun can't warm you.

So let me ask you, how exactly are you in my head? I have had you right where I have wanted you since jump street. It is you who feels like your back is against the wall. But nice flip. You really let the idea of reality bounce off you, don't you? I don't blame you, I would too. I would do whatever I could to tell myself that it wasn't real. But it is real, Gabe. It is very, very real. And you are beginning to know it. That is why you still want to team with me after this. You think I am dumb enough to give you the time of day after what you have pulled, TWICE. You are directly responsible for two of my 6 losses. 3 if you count the time you pinned Nixon on the cruise ship, even though I don't. So why would I ever expect anything from you again? I am going to go on with my life as the Universal Champion and you are going to fade into the abyss. THAT is what is going to happen, Gabe. Nothing else.

Who stabbed who, Gabe? Let's get facts straight while we are here. You decided to turn your back on me. I agreed to team with you, to pull you out of the wrestling gutter you were in. You tried to stab me once, and Jenny caught you. You stabbed me a second time and cost yourself a chance to be tag champs. How fucking dumb are you? But you want to make comedic promos about piss and pissing on faces. You want to admit to wearing a helmet at an attempt at humor. Gabe, there is nothing funny about this. Phoenix was the name of the company, I didn't just wrestle there-----why am I bothering with this? It is literally like breaking down the intellect of a child and trying to elaborate when all he wants is a sticker and a high five. It literally is not worth it to continue to break down every word of the idiocy you just put out. PS, you're sucky? I mean, Jesus Christ, I could literally be jailed in North Korea for beating the living shit out of a child......or the mentally disabled....whichever makes you feel better about yourself.

Gabe, your opportunity is lost. You had a chance to call me out, to show the world that I am a lying hypocrite. To use PROOF. But you failed. Now, watch, his next promo will be a documentary on my history here and all the things I said. I mean, I have to give this dumb prick ideas for promos now. Well, your cover is blown. That won't matter now. People are done taking you seriously. You fucked up, and now you literally have nothing else to say. So let me shoot this little idea down before you decide to embarrass yourself further.

I WAS in it for me, in the beginning. I think I laid that out pretty clear in my last promo. This was MY second chance, MY shot at redemption, MY opportunity to shine. But now that I am here, and I am on the top, I have changed. I am a changed man but not in the way you think. I am a company man now. Why do you think Colton and I get along so well? I am in it for the betterment of this company, these shows, and to make this championship the best it can be. And as for a little attack on Graves? That wasn't the plan, at least for me. Who did I spear? Oh yeah, that's right, YOU. I was aiming for you. and I damn near broke you in half. How do your ribs feel, Gabe. That was one last gift before the Pay Per View, I knew EXACTLY who I was aiming for, and what my intentions were. That is the thing about me, Gabe. I don't make mistakes. EVERYTHING I do is planned, to a T. Plans, backup plans. All of it. That is where we are different, Gabe. You may think I let my emotions drive me into reckless decisions, but that is what I make you believe. I should win an Emmy for this shit, because I had you hook line and sinker. I still do. It's not like you are going to pay attention to this anyway. You are off in your own little world. And that is okay....

.....because your world, as you know it, comes to an end of April 1st."



Sitting in the hot tub, his lower half in and his upper half out, he lit a Cuban cigar. Bruce was on one side and Jenny was next to him, his arm around her and her head rested on his right pectoral.

Taking a puff of his cigar, he inhaled deep. The cool dusk breeze blew through his hair.

The palm trees hovered above him. This was his last night in civilization. He would go to hell in a short time, literally and figuratively. North Korea was probably, outside the Middle East, the worst place in the world to be right now. Kim Jong Un was a legit psychopath who had his own brother murdered because he disagreed with him. It was a completely different world than what people experienced here. The people were starving, and they were afraid to speak out. South Korea was a technological capital, and very advanced. North Korea was still in the Middle Ages. The autograph session that Chris partook in earlier, would never happen in North Korea.

Gabe Reno lived in a world like this. A world of false hope and broken promises. And he was starving, too, just like the people who inhabit that cess pool on the south end of China. Gabe Reno was starving in terms of the title picture....it had been so long since he'd eaten. Everyday he hoped for a meal, but a meal never came. Just more despair. More hunger. More hopelessness. The night of Lethal Lottery, these people are still going to be hungry. So will Gabe. The meal he so desperately seeks will be waved right in his face then ripped away from him in a heartless display of malice.

Another puff, Chris watched the smoke billow into the soft Florida breeze.

"So, are you ready?" Jenny said softly, removing her head from his peck and reaching for her mohito.

"I am beyond ready", Chris shot back, "I have never been so ready before in my life."

Bruce took a puff of his cigar, and said in a raspy voice (he was speaking before blowing out) "Champ.....don't pull a Gabe Reno and be cocky now.....he is an enigma"

Exhale.

"He is a tool" Chris said.

"Tool or not, he wants this more than he wanted the Wild Card. He is bringing everything he has. This will be a different Gabe Reno."

Chris didn't care. Gabe Reno was Gabe Reno. Okay, so he will fight a little harder, but there are levels to this shit.

"I realize that, Bruce. I know it is going to be a battle. It is going to be the toughest battle I have ever fought. But this will be the last battle in the war. When this is over, I never want to hear the name Gabe Reno or the word Radical again. When I beat him down for the second time and equalize him in he middle of that ring in front of 100,000 screaming Koreans, it will be the last I ever hear or see of the biggest thorn in my side in my career."

Bruce nodded and took another puff, looking out at the water.

Jenny sloshed the ice in her drink.

The bubbles were on full force.

He took another puff. This was a quality cigar. Only the best for the Universal Champion. Only the best for the best Universal Champion.

He looked out at the inter-coastal. It was smooth. An osprey was picking at the shallow water, dunking his head under, then coming up with small crustaceans. Sometimes he was successful, sometimes he came up empty with just a beak full of sand. Chris knew he was just trying to eat, to provide. Chris felt a little like the Osprey, he had to survive---he had a lot of other depending on him.

The Osprey had caught a small fish.

Chris looked back at the palm trees and put his head back, puffing.

"There is a difference between being cocky and being confident. Gabe doesn't understand this difference. He is over the top arrogant. I am confident in my abilities. I have no problem saying that this will be a battle to end all battles---he will tell you he will dominate me. That is the difference. I am expecting to bleed. I am expecting to feel pain. I am expecting to feel worse than I have felt in a long time---but I am expecting to win. He will tell you I have no chance. THAT is the difference."

Exhale. Smoke. Breeze.

Just as Chris was about to get out, Curtis, the maintenance man who had been there ever since Chris had lived there, approached them. He had something in his hand.

"I know, Curtis, time to shut down for cleaning". He pulled a leg out.

"No, Mr. Jackson," said the man, "you can stay as long as you want tonight. I have a small favor to ask you, though, if it is no too much."

Chris thought this was odd. He was usually the one asking Curtis for favors.

"Sure" said Chris, "hit me."

In his hand was a photo. It was a split copy, one of the dumb promo photos you can pick up at a store. He got it before the McBride match that Chris fought in Tampa several weeks back. He had been saving it until now, apparently.

"It's for my grandson, Mike. He is like your biggest fan, man. If you could do this, I'd be forever in debt. He will be watching the Pay Per View, man, and this will be a GREAT present. His birthday is March 31st."

He handed Chris a pen. The Universal Champion smiled.

He handed the photo back to Curtis.

"No charge." The three of them walked away.

Curtis beamed, looking down at the gift in his hands.



The benefits of being a champion.

Something Gabe Reno knows nothing about.