Threaded Mode | Linear Mode

B.O.B. D · (11-16-2019)

"What the fuck is he doing?"

I was completely flabbergasted by the actions of my temporary teammate, Donovan Blackwater. Apparently playing grab-ass was more important to him than preparing for the biggest match of our careers. Here I was, dead tired after a long day of working out, and he was treating it like we were facing the Perfect Storm. And I couldn't figure out what was worse: the fact he was low enough to bang a buddy's girlfriend, or that he did so with a woman that looked like THAT.

"What's wrong?"

My wife had been sitting on the couch, reading a Game of Thrones novel. She looked up from her book, concerned for my well being. I had a way of doing that to her, my reactions had always been rather abrupt, going from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. While this development was a cause for alarm, I felt no need to bother her with it.

"It's nothing," I responded, reclining my chair back before flipping through the channels.

"Honey, what's the matter?"

She wasn't gonna let it go. I'd always done my best to keep work separate from my homelife, but over the last several months it had all merged into one. All I wanted was to come home for good and enjoy many more quiet nights at home with my wife, but my career was preventing me from doing so. It wasn't about the money, either, as I'd accumulated a hefty chunk of change from my days competing in the WWF and NWF to the point where we were set for life. Hence why I could drop an insane amount of X-Bux for a Title shot or set $50,000 ablaze without battin' an eye.

I needed to prove to not just myself, but the world, that I AM World Champion material. Fuzz may not give a shit what others think about HIM, but I care what they think about ME. All those wasted matches opening shows for companies that didn't appreciate me, all the abuse my body took just to line the pockets of those who saw me as a nobody; if I could become Universal Champion of the greatest wrestling company the world had ever seen, not only would they HAVE to admit they were wrong......... all the shit I endured would be worth it in the end.

"Apparently my partner is more concerned about shacking up than winning Lethal Lottery..........."

My concern that I might not advance thanks for my partner was VERY real, and could have a drastic effect on mine and Krystal's foreseeable future. While it was very likely I'd get another opportunity to become Number 1 Contender sometime down the road, I couldn't guarantee I wouldn't have to rely on someone else to achieve it. It'd be War Games all over again, except I wouldn't have the fortune of having Lacklan or Vinnie Lane to bail my ass out this time. That was a risk I just couldn't take.

"Annnnnnnd?" Krystal questioned, raising an eyebrow. "You were the same way a few nights ago."

She had a valid point. It was unfair of me to assume the ONLY thing Blackwater occupied his time with was getting his dick wet. But considering the circumstances of his bedroom escapades, I still felt a little uneasy.

"Well, that's fair," I agreed. "But it's a bit different when it's a man and his wife versus a man and his best friend's girl. Not only is that cause for a HUGE distraction, it's also asking for Donovan to show up for our match in a bodybag courtesy of Zane Norrison......"

"Damn."

Damn was right. If I knew about Blackwater's shenanigans, there was no telling who else might. For all I know, Amjetkun or Fuzz did and could tell Zane in order to get themselves a one on two situation. And if I couldn't handle Boris & Scully on my own, there'd be NO WAY I could deal with a roided up freak and the Xtreme Champion by myself. I prayed Donovan Blackwater knew what he was getting himself, and possibly even ME, into.

"You DO understand if I lose this match, it sets back my ability to retire, right?" I asked, not sure if she realized that.

"Yeeeeeeeees," she replied, seemingly unfazed. "But it's not like another opportunity won't present itself in due time, right?"

"I can't guarantee that," I sighed, turning off the TV. "Even IF I could, when will that be? Not to mention, every 'opportunity' I've had has been bullshit."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, first there was War Games," I began to explain. "Being new to the XWF, I didn't have a fucking clue who anybody was! Yet getting my Title shot relied solely upon me choosing the right teammates to earn it FOR me."

"But.......... you WON."

"I got lucky," I shot back. "If Bearded War Pig hadn't been an asshole and no showed, I wouldn't have gotten Vinnie as a substitute, possibly leaving Lacklan to fend for herself against Mastermind and Ned in the end. As great as she is, I'm not so sure she would've been able to pull that off without Lane watching her back."

"I see."

"And then there was Leap of Faith," I continued, my irritation growing the more I thought about the horrible situations management kept putting me into. "Three briefcases, only one containing a Title shot. Rather than let us all slug it out to TRULY see who was the best, they essentially held a raffle. And as happy as I am for Ned, I can't help but wonder what might've happened had it been a straight up WRESTLING Match as opposed to a roll of the dice."

"I can understand that, honey."

"And now, here I am, once again in a situation I'm not COMPLETELY in control of," I said with a shake of my head. "When I first arrived in XWF, I thought it was better than the situations of my past, but I now see it was just an illusion."

"What do you mean?"

"When I was in WWF, they never wanted to give me a World Title shot," I elaborated. "Despite holding THREE Championships at the same time, they refused to see the Star potential I had and kept casting me to the side. But I bitched, I pissed, and I moaned until they finally had no choice but to do SOMETHING......... do you know what that something was???"

Krystal shook her head, which I expected. I'd never told her this story before, hell, I wasn't sure if ANYONE outside of those involved knew about it.

"They put me in a match against the Champion himself," I told my wife. "Big Evil."

"Well that's good," she responded, not yet understanding the exact situation. "That's exactly what you wanted."

"No, hun," I said with a frown. "I wanted a TITLE shot, and they put me in a NON-Title match. They told me if I could beat him, they'd give me a rematch for the belt at the next Pay-Per-View."

"What happened?"

"I lost," I admitted. "And losing is a polite way to put it, quite frankly, I got DESTROYED. He put me through the announcer's table and I had to go to the hospital, nearly escaping a broken neck."

"Sounds like you weren't ready."

"That's the thing, honey........ I WAS ready," I retorted, a little upset she would assume otherwise. "I was ready for a Championship match, and they gave me THAT! Who else has to beat the Champion TWICE to win his belt? Green Warrior didn't, Seth Flash didn't, and certainly Big Evil himself didn't! And yet, Big D, the man who held three of their precious belts at once and carried the entire mid-card on his back did!........"

I paused for a moment, gathering my composure. My wife sat there in silence, giving me some room to regain myself. She knew how important this all was to me, and was very understanding in my outburst.

"My point is, this is happening again," I finally spoke. "They're just alot better at hiding it than WWF was. Leap of Faith, Lethal Lottery, they're all just the same pathetic attempt to hold guys like me back while making it LOOK like they give equal opportunities. I watched Chris Page lose a Title match, only to be given another shot a few months later. He didn't earn it, he didn't win a Number 1 Contenders Match, it was just handed to him! And as irritating as that is, it was nothing compared to watching two jobbers be given Championship matches for absolutely no reason whatsoever, other than the fact they begged for them........."

The room went silent. There was a slight tension in the air, not towards one another, but my situation in general. We just sat there, staring into nothingness, pondering everything I had spoken over the past few minutes.

"You know what I think?" Krystal asked, breaking the momentary silence. "I think you need to STOP focusing on the past, as well as a future that hasn't even happened yet. You're so convinced your partner sucks and that XWF is trying to screw you, that you don't realize YOU'RE in control! Sure, Donovan Blackwater COULD cost you the match, but he could also WIN it. The same can be said about you, as well. Don't worry about the things you can't control, and instead focus on the things you CAN. If you go in expecting to lose, you're going to....."

My wife being the voice of reason, once again. I was pissed off, but there was nothing I could do about it other than keep on truckin'. Life wasn't fair, and I had accepted that way before I stepped foot in the XWF. I powered through it before and there's no doubt I could do it again. I was successful in WWF without becoming World Champion, I've been successful in XWF without it thus far; fuck it. As I'd said many times before, if I keep shouting loud enough they'll eventually HAVE to hear me.

"Honey, I love you so much," I gushed as I popped up from my chair and delivered a big ole smooch on my wife. "You're absolutely right! I'm on a collision course with a Universal Title shot, all I gotta do is win 3 more matches. If I have to carry someone along the way, so be it. It'll only make look like a more credible Champion when I DO win the big one."

I walked over to our desk and opened the weed drawer, snatching up a joint and putting it behind my ear.

"I'm gonna go smoke a j in the garage and get in the zone," I said, blowing a kiss before heading out the back door.

I exited my house and trekked about ten feet over to the garage. I unlocked the door and entered, switching on the single light bulb that hung from the ceiling. This was where I kept all of the replica belts I'd purchased over the years. Everytime I won a Championship in ANY promotion, I bought a replica of that Title to commemorate, and always remember, that reign. There were TV and Xtreme Championships, Tag Team Titles, and of course an NWF World Heavyweight Championship replica that laid dead center of them all. To this day, it is my most cherished reign of them all, a constant reminder that for a moment in time I was the best. But that would soon change after I was finished running through Lethal Lottery and becoming THE Number 1 Contender; as I deserved all along.

"Fuzz, you've got a big mouth for being such a little man........" I began as I lit up my joint. "And when I say little, I'm not JUST making a dick joke........ even though we all know your balls are smaller than Amjetkun Socio's sad excuse for nuts. You're small in every way imaginable, status, credibility, and most DEFINITELY in pride! You defend hiding like a pussy because 'it's worked.' Well guess what?! My method's worked, too!!! And people notice me more for it. It's like getting a promotion in a paper pushing job, when two guys are equal level, they're judged by how hard they worked. You think Vinnie wants YOU to be his Anarchy Champion after seeing how awful your work ethic is?!?! You're lucky he hasn't stripped you of that belt for shitting all over it!"

I took a deep drag of my weed and continued to rail Fuzz(metaphorically, of course).

"You're all excited over the prospect of becoming a Double Champion, but you're forgetting something........... I CAN, TOO!!!! And the best part is, I can do it before our match even ends! Just think, we're letting our teammates do all the work on the inside, while we conserve our energy on the outside. That is, until I decide to hop on down, yank you off the apron, and pin you right there at ringside, taking back my Title and embarrassing you in the process! With how much you claim I suck, I bet you'd never show your face again! Or you'd come up with some excuse, like it was 'unfair', just like the Tag Team brackets. Here's a newsflash, Fuzz: you lost. The Sick Cunts COULD have faced someone else that round, hell, they might've even won. But at the end of the day, you guys lost to the 5'2 Mafia and that wouldn't have changed if it happened in the first round, or the last! Sure, you MIGHT'VE gotten a two week run with the Tag Titles, but that'd only make you bigger jokes than the Arm Collectors. And just like them, you would've handed over the belts to Sarah & Kenzi, anyway! Which would've been shorter than my Xtreme Title reign that you're so fond of knocking yourself for ending."

"On a good day, any wrestler can pick up a victory over their equal, and yours just happened to be at Relentless. But here's the thing, Fuzz...... MY good day is comin' up quick and it's gonna cost YOU everything. Your Championship, your shot at the big time, and most importantly, the Universal Title. If you think I've forgotten all the shit talk, all the times you've tried to discredit my accomplishments, you're in for a rude awakening! I'm gonna make an example out of you, just like I did Thad Duke! By the time I'm done with you, you'll be wishing you had me as your TEAMMATE instead of Amjetkun......."

I took the joint out of my mouth and ashed it, a smile on my face at the thought of the ballooned up buffoon that was Fuzz's partner.

"You know what Amjetkun Socio reminds me of? Spongebob in that episode where he bought the inflatable muscles! Amjetkun bought his strength, he didn't work for it! Sure, he goes to the gym, but it's only to check out all the sweaty guys and shower with them after. The only working out he's doing is workin' his dick into his bros' buttholes!"

"Amjetkun is a nobody. The only reason he advanced to the next round is because Vita Valenteen was his partner and they faced a B-movie actor and a guy who's so weak he has to murder innocent dolphins. At least me and Fuzz beat a former Universal Champion, even if he's washed a washed up has-been. He's still more than Amjetkun will ever be, though."

"Fuzz thinks I'M stupid because he couldn't control me, when in actuality it makes me smart. He's only complimenting you because he knows you're dumb enough to fall for it. To him, and quite frankly me as well, you're nothing more than a mindless meatbag. If you WERE smart, you'd turn on him mid-match and steal that Title from that cocky little bitch! Especially since it's the only way you'd EVER be able to win a Championship! I know the prospect of winning Lethal Lottery SEEMS tempting, but it's a prize that's FARRRRR out of your reach. Why not just settle for a consolation prize? You don't want all of your......"

I made air quotes upon my next two words.

".............'hard work' to go to waste, do you? Because that's what's gonna happen when Donovan Blackwater and I rain on your parade!!!!! All of your's and Fuzz's hopes and dreams are gonna come crashing down harder than that helmet on Mason Rudolph's head! And you know what? I'm gonna love every minute of it. Showing Fuzz what it means to be a REAL Champion, proving to him that he's not above me, and maybe even taking his belt in the process. But if letting Blackwater have that honor gives him extra motivation, than by all means it's his. As long as we advance, that's all that matters to me. And that ain't no story, it's the Cold Big D Truth!!!!"

I meant it. Even though I had my doubts about Blackwater, I was putting them to rest for the time being. Like Fuzz and I last round, we have to put our differences aside in order to achieve our ultimate goal of become THE Number One Contender. While at the end of the day only one of us can win it all, neither of us will if we don't succeed Saturday night. Fuzz and Amjetkun Socio better be ready, because they're not gonna know what hit 'em. I will not break...........

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode I Will Not Break
Author	Message