This was going to be a busy week, for sure. First he would kick the shit out of Felix Jones on Savage and take the X-Treme title, then he would have to take on Peter Gilmour and the XWF's resident spaceman. All while dodging ambush style pin attempts and having Robert Main breathing down his neck.

He didn't speak Gorilla. So hard to communicate.

Now Chris Chaos has reached out to Gilmour, made him part of the formula. When Hanari wins the gold (well, silver, really), on Saturday, that will probably will be on the line, too. He sighed, pouring a drink into a rocks glass, spinning to top back on.

He now knew what Chris Chaos kept ramblinng about. This booking is brutal. But Hanari had never been a complainer. He had always been the type to go in, handle business, and leave. This week would be no different.

There was a nice breeze this evening, he felt it as soon as he opened the slider door. Pulling up a chair, he sat down, pulling a cigar out of his shirt pocket. Hanari was going to enjoy his life, it was far too short to worry. He slid the wrapping off the cigar, cutting the nub off the back. The stars were bright in the sky. He took a sip, lighting the cigar and sitting back comfortably in the chair. Shifting a little.

The crickets were active on this night. There was an owl somewhere in the distance.

"Whoooo.......whooooo...."

As if the exotic bird was challenging him. Who was Hanari Carnes? Good guy? Bad guy? Indifferent? He was a public servant, really. He was doing the XWF a service by weeding out the weak, exposing the cowardly, and injuring the unworthy. He didn't think that made him a bad guy.

He swirled the ice in the rocks glass.

He didn't care if it did or didn't, to be honest. Opinions are like assholes, right? He was going to do what he wanted because he believed in his mission. He believed that he was doing the right thing, that the purge he was embarking on was wholesome and righteous.

Peter Griffin, er, Gilmour was now on board with Chaotic Inc. He had to admit, that was entertaining. The crickets continued to chirp. Peter Gilmour was now an ally and a victim. Hanari laughed to himself as he thought about going easy on him just because Chris Chaos thought he was worth two squirts of piss. He made a weird sucking noise as the ice hit his teeth and he took another sip. Peter Gilmour was going to have to prove that he is more than just a chaotic kiss-ass. Chris Chaos may value someone answering his every beck and call, but Hanari is a visual learner. He has to see it to believe it.

The cigar burned a bright orange, providing a small light on the dark porch. There was a small hiss woth every inhale as the tobacco leaf crumbled away under the immense heat from the core, and Hanari's fingers were stained a slight brown from the rich and moist tropical plant. Each exhale was bigger than the last and the cloud they produced was growing in size. Gathering and then just as quickly blowing away. There was a rustle against the wood of the porch as Hanari's hard bottomed dres shoe slid across as he shifted positions in the large chair.

Hanari looked up at the stars. He was always amazed and fascinated about space. He remembered his teacher, Mr. Chester, had taught him about lightyears. The thing that resonated with him most was the example he gave about stars. If a star was, lets say, 7 lightyears away, then the bright little ball of light we see in the sky took 7 years to reach earth. What we see, in that case, is how the star looked 7 years ago. That star could die, implode in on itself in a firey supernova, and we wouldn't know it for 7 years.

Another puff. Another cloud.

What does a wrestlers career look like? Is forshadowing a thing? If someone is a "star", does that mean that their future is pre determined and we are seeing what they look like now, from the future? A weird thought, he thought to himself, but what isn't weird in this world? He wondered what it would feel like to beat Azrael Erebus to within an inch of his life...the spaceman with superpowers......

If he had powers to regenerate, he can't feel pain, he can literally travel into the future, the past, wherever....why does he lose so damn much? Why does he get the shit kicked out of him so much?

His phone rattled the table next to him, and he would be lying if he said it didn't startle him a little bit.

He let it ring. It was face down on the table, so only a small bit of light bled out from the over-sized screen. Who could possibly be calling him late at night on an off night?

The phone buzzed again on the table. Hanari sighed audibly, and flipped it over. The name on the screen bothered hi even more than the peaceful nights abrupt interruption.

CHAOS

"Goddamnit" Hanari muttered to himself. "The fuck does he want?"

He answered the phone.

"Si?"

"Hello, Hanari." His voice was colder than usual, frigid actually. It was 90 outside, and Hanari felt a chill up the back of his neck.

Hanari ashed his cigar in the glass bowl next to him, adding another layer of soot to the well-used glass grave.

"Can I help you?"

"You are facing Peter Gilmour this week."

Hanari chuckled a bit under his breath, re-shifting in his seat.

"You called me at 1 in the morning to tell me this?"

The other line didn't have a chuckle, however. It was the same cold tone. Icy.

"Peter Gilmour is a changed man, a dangerous man, and I advise you do not sleep on him."

"I sleep on nobody, ese."

The voice continued as if Hanari never spoke.

"You're in for a hell of a fight. Azrael isn't a walk in the park, either. I just want to make sure you aren't swallowing before you've fully chewed."

Hanari played with the dimming cigar between his fingers, rolling it up and down.

"You're doubting me, holmes?"

"I doubt everyone who isn't me."

That statement stuck. Hanari set the cigar down again, and took the final sip from his rocks glass. How matter-of-factly and non-chalant he said that.......this man may actually be as crazy as they say.

Hanari gets up, walking back into the house, in desperate search of the tequila bottle.

"So, is there a point to this call besides you telling me that my opponents aren't the swill at the bottom of the 40 for once?"

There was no pause again. It was like he knew when Hanari was going to finish every time. Like he predicted his words before he said them.

"Last week Peter woke up. He proved himself. I spent years kicking the shit out of Peter, and I think it has finally paid off. Do you remember the last time you were in the ring with him?"

"Yeah, his out of shape ass was pinned by Ned Kaye and I was too late to break up the count."

"He is hungry."

"He sucks."

"Peter proved himself last week. And I have been in the ring with Azrael enough to know that he can beat anyone in this company if he puts his mind to it. It's not skill with him, its focus."

Hanari chuckles to himself, pouring more golden tequila over ice in the rocks glass. The lights in the kitchen made it gleam.

"Thanks coach."

Hanari took a sip, Chaos continued.

"You must know that I have the utmost faith that you will do the right thing here."

"Are you asking me to take a dive?"

"I am asking you to do what is right."

"So kick the shit out of your errand boy and his Apollo 13 sidekick?"

"You're confident. I think it's the tequila."

"Hombre.....in 4 days I will be the X-Treme champion. I will take Felix Jones to the woodshed, and I will break his arm. Then I will come to Warfare and I will do what real hero's do....eliminate the bad and elevate the good."

"That is if you make it out of Savage."

Hanari sets his cup down, forcefully now.

"Listen, hermano.....I am not sure what you are getting at here, but it is starting to piss me off. Just because you want to attack the Head of Creative and make life harder for yourself doesn't mean I need to get myself involved. I have goals, I am focused. I will get to the promise land, and I don't need to beat up executives to make statements....I do that inside the ring."

This time there was a measure of silence on the other line. Just heavy, audible breathing.

Finally, after an eternity, the entity on the other line spoke.

"You asked me the point of this phone call. It was simply to tell you that Peter had his test last week, and he passed. There are no freebies, there is no respect given, there is only respect earned. This week is your test, Hanari........and I suggest you pass."

The phone clicked. Hanari looked at his reflection in the slider door. He adjusted the collar on his dress shirt before squeezing the glass in his hand.

It broke.

Blood, glass, ice and tequila stained the expensive hardwood. Hanari' lip curled.

"Pass the test" he said under his breath......"motherfucker....I AM THE TEST!"

Slapping the contents of the counter onto the floor, Hanari put his hands down on the counter, looking at the granite and breathing heavy.

"I am the test."

His hand left a bloody print on the expensive counter top as he reached for another rocks glass from the cupboard.