Atone!
Atone!
ATONE!
AHHH-TONE!

The cheers grew louder and louder. More voracious. A ravenous crowd of woke individuals seemed prepared to rush and tear down the cheaply fashioned stage if they didn’t get what they desired within mere moments. A nervous individual, likely the host of the event, poked his head through a curtain, inspecting the small, but hidden backstage area. His eyes found The Wizard – the unmasked, citizen version.

“They, uhh...they are kinda anxious for you to get out there.”

His giant hand placed against an aluminum pole, head lowered – The Wizard remained silent. From the shadows, Edward Mof approached with an index finger in front of his lips, “Quiet. He must gather his thoughts before heading out there.”

Very much NOT okay with this answer, the host had no choice but to turn back around and continue to kill time while awaiting The Wizard’s appearance.

---

Gage Gannon. Where to begin. When doing research on an opponent...COLD research, you always give that person the benefit of the doubt. I mean, yea...sure...that coat flip thing was a bit ridiculous. But, hey, we’ve all made mistakes.

Like, the guy who thinks sucking cock looks really cool. It’s only when he founds out how totally gay it is that he stops.

Never judge a book by its cover. Benefit of the doubt. Only judge the material after you’ve had a chance to experience its contents. And, boy...experience them I did.

I’m sorry to say, Gage. But the magical jury is out. You fuckin blow.

My delivery may be harsh but I’m sure you can take it. Hell, I witnessed you wincing while watching your own match. That tells me you know, on some level, just how shitty you truly are. And that’s the first step, Gage. The first step toward improvement.

But then you go and say lame ass shit like “At least I’m winning in life…” I’ve found that’s the type of phrase losers spout to ease the pain and trauma they experienced after a few moments of quiet self-loathing.

You shouldn’t ignore your mother, Gage. She’s likely the only person in this world who truly believes you’re capable of earning success within XWF. She believes in you, Gage. Be nice to your mom.

That whore on the other hand. Where did you find her? Personal Ads on CraigsList? Are those still around? Spending your time with a hooker isn’t cool, Gage. It’s dangerous. I hope you get tested before entering the ring on Saturday. If I’m going to catch Herpes I want to do it the fun way.

Mentioning mind games is another thing you seem fond of. You trying to steal Mastermind’s gimmick? You’re going to mindfuck me? I doubt that, man. “You will be under the spell of Gage Gannon”...does that mean you’re gonna look at me and I’ll instantly disrobe, begging you for sex? Sorry, but I’m not that easy.

I could go on and on, Gage. But I’ve got a crowd of people to calm down. Not sure how I’m going to do it. How do you explain you aren’t racist to a crowd that’s already deemed you racist without saying “I’m not racist”? This is gonna be tough.

But, I’d better get out there before they murder me, and my death is attributed to COVID.

---

I didn’t know what to say. How to placate an angry mob? It’s a riddle this country has YET to solve. But, there I was. Once again at risk of watching everything I’d built crumble to the ground due to some trivial, misconstrued encounter.

“Hey,” Mof tapped me, “they are getting restless.” This was pointed out AFTER a tennis ball shot through the curtain, narrowly missing Mof’s hair.

“Okay, I’m ready,” I sucked up the courage that was hanging by a thread, turned, and headed up the stairs.

Bursting through the curtain, I half-expected a standing ovation akin to that of a rock band that’s left its fans waiting JUST long enough before risking annoyance.

“BOOOOO!”

Yep, that’s what I received. Reality never imitates art. It’s always the other way around.

The host made a mad dash from the stage as soon as I towered over the microphone. His job was done and his next course of action was to get as far away from the mob as possible. Can’t blame the guy.

“Ahem,” I cleared my throat.

“BOOOOOO!”

What? They’re gonna boo a guy clearing phlegm from his throat? Unholy rascals.

“Hello, everyone...thanks for…”

“BOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

Wow, this was gonna be harder than I imagined. No sense in being pleasant or making small talk. It was time to diffuse this bomb before the inevitable explosion.

“Look, I apologize for my actions the other day…” they quieted. This allowed me some time to survey the people. All caucasian. Not a single person of color in the crowd. Their arms were folded and their faces wore scowls. The silence I’d been able to wrangle wouldn’t last long. “I’m a huge fan of the Latino community. I love Carlos Mencia.”

“FUCKIN BOOOOOO!!”

What? Why did that send them back into a fury?

“CARLOS MENCIA SUCKS! HE’S A THIEF! BOOOO!”

“CLASSIC WHITE PRIVILEGE RIGHT THERE! CARLOS FUCKING MENCIA!”

Oh, wow. Had no idea Mencia was so polarizing. Slowly, I raised my giant hands...and, surprisingly, they simmered down.

“I also enjoy Taco Bell, those burr -”

“MOTHER FUCKING BOOOOOOOO!!!”

WHAT? An assault on Taco Bell? I thought EVERYONE loved Taco Bell.

“THAT’S JUST WHAT A RACIST WOULD SAY!” one person screamed.

“I BET THAT’S THE ONLY LATINO EATERY HE CAN NAME!” another chimed in.

I paused. Things were close to unraveling. I looked to my left and noticed the man I elbowed the other day. He was wearing a neck brace for, some reason. And...was he in a fuckin wheel chair?

Geezus. Perhaps it was time I planned my escape.

---

And then there’s Hermano Carnes. The big dog in this fight. The Alpha Male. That is if Alpha’s were able to lose half their fights while retaining the apex label.

Carnes, man...sounds like you had an interesting upbringing. Assuming you’re William. For all I know that could just be some boy you lured into a white van via churro only to turn him over to a dark, underground sex ring. But, I doubt that.

Not exactly sure why my mind went there. Might be a byproduct of the Epstein documentary I’m viewing on Netflix.

REGARDLESS.

I like the fact you called me weird. It’s the low hanging fruit, like the apple in the Garden of Eden, and you went straight for it. Classic move. And, I can see that you have worked hard to avoid being labeled ‘weird’.

Creating a bland as fuck image is a great way to avoid the weird label. You said it yourself...your look, your attire, all of that shit is about as exciting as those wax lips jackass households hand out to trick or treaters on Halloween night.

Shit, even your record tastes like soda without the syrup. There isn’t a thing about you that stands out. You’re not in the fast lane. You’re not about to exit. You’re just cruising the speed limit in the middle lane. Totally forgettable.

A full-proof method to avoid being labeled weird or, ya know, original...as some might deem it.

And I’m glad you learned your lesson about sleeping on people. Rape is a terrible act to commit. Don’t believe me? Just head to social media, they will tell you. So, I’m glad this rape fetish of yours has come to an end. Sleeping on people is a bad way to go through life, Hikary. It’s rude. It’s dangerous. It could lead to a lawsuit. And, worst of all, it’s kinda weird.

We all know you don’t want that.

Interesting argument you have as to why I can’t defeat you and win that title. Because you are destined to face Robert Main. You claim I’m unworthy or un-ready to face such a man. Well, I’ll respond to that criticism by saying this.

I don’t want to face Robert Main. That dude needs to get in line behind MASTERMIND. That’s who I’m facing at Leap of Faith. I don’t care if I’ve got your title or not. Robert Main will have to wait. Mastermind is all that matters, right now.

You go on to claim the XWF landscape is...bland? But didn’t you say, earlier, it was full of weirdos? Which is it, Carnes? Or are you just making this shit up as you go?

“The key to success is defeat.” The KEY to SUCCESS is DEFEAT? Did you get that out of a self-help book written by the GREAT Chris Chaos? Because, I can tell you this...it’s a load of shit. Sounds like something you’re trying to convince me of so I’ll lay down and let you win thinking “Oh boy, by losing this match I’m bound to face Shawn Warstein at the next Savage!”

Give it a rest, Carnes. Even your put-downs are fucking bland. You’re not even Homemade Vanilla. You’re that fucking cream that requires a chocolate swirl or candied toppings to pass as a decent dessert.

---

Shit was looking rough. Slutty counselor at Camp Crystal Lake rough. Eyeing the victim, I could sense he felt sorrow for my plight. Certainly not enough sorrow to stand and remove the neck brace, but more sorrow than I’d received since the incident.

It gave me inspiration.

I tossed a verbal hail mary at the crowd in the hopes of a miraculous reception.

“I also enjoy Chipotle!”

Silence.

Holy shit...did...did that fucking work?

The white people in front of me began to murmur. Their heads began to nod. They, too, enjoyed Chipotle. Some common ground – finally!

I turned, staring at Mof who remained vigilant at the side of the stage. The back of his hand wiped a fair amount of sweat from his forehead. He, too, felt the type of relief a human experiences after locating a bathroom along a desolate highway after digesting some questionable mex...err, ethnic food.

The forest was clearing. Freedom was within our grasp. All I needed to do, at this point was relate to the people in front of me (rather than the Latino guy on stage) and all would be well.

“And, you know, that politician…” I froze. I couldn’t remember her name. SHIT. A threw a furtive glance Mof’s way. He began to mime out the initials to her name. “A…” I paused, “O…” Mof was really good at signaling in letters. I awaited the final one. “C…” that’s right, now I remembered…so I shouted with confidence, “AOC!”

“FUCKIN...YASSSSSS!!!!”

The crowd ERUPTED in jubilation. High fives. Hugs. Even a few tears were shed. We were suddenly BROTHERS and SISTERS within the Latino movement. That is, if you, again, ignore the apparently crippled Latino man sharing my stage.

Edward motioned for me to exit. He begged me to leave it be. And, well, I should have taken his advice. Lately, it had been spot on.

BUT, I was feeling confident. The people were behind me. The opportunity to snare an entire demographic into my fan club – the one ran by a really eager and strange woman called Fanny – was too enticing. I suddenly desired to become the WOKE Wizard.

So, I ignored Eddie’s sage advice. I cleared my throat, silenced the crowd, and took my shot.

“Allow me, friends, to tell you the story of a boy named William from The Dominican Republic…” the people in front of me grew still, patient – they were eager to hear of this brave young man.

Yea, sure, so I was totally stealing Harari’s story. But, and not to sound RACIST, it was the only Latino story I had, ya know, aside from Cheech & Chong or one of the drug dealers from Better Call Saul.

The eagerness to win them over via an emotional story smothered common sense. I should have known...well, nevermind. You’ll find out in a minute.

---

Stereotypes exist, ugly as they are. You’re no exception, Gage. Saying things like, I live in a dungeon or castle. That’s generalizing, bro. Although to be fair, I kinda wish I DID live in a castle. That’d be kinda cool.

But how would you feel if I stereotyped you? Said things like how you’re an unoriginal douche bag ladies man who gets pretty much whatever he wants? Good looking. Suave. A ubiquitous natural. It would hurt, wouldn’t it?

I try to make observations before I generalize. Like, I knew when I saw the coat flip what I was dealing with. The cool character from a shitty CW tv series. Assuming CW is still a thing.

And, I’d love to be proven wrong. But then you go and say shit like comparing our match to a circle jerk? If that’s really how you see this going down, then I suggest you hang outside the ring. Or, at the very least, keep your hands to yourself. That kinda sweet talk may work on that whore you have living with you, but it won’t work on THE WIZARD.

You make it a point to say this isn’t personal. AFTER you mentioned taking souls. I dunno, man, I think taking someone’s soul is pretty personal. I have no intention of removing your soul from your body. Merely tossing you around and shoving your name beneath mine in the XWF hierarchy.

This isn’t to say you don’t have talent, Gage. If you were devoid of talent I wouldn’t spend the time I’ve spent talking about you. It’s simply a point of educating you on how to swallow a very hard, very thick pill – you aren’t as good as you think you are.

---

So close to perfection. So close to achievement.

There were many risks involved in giving this speech. Including exposing my identity as THE WIZARD to an insane group of cancel culture individuals who would, no doubt, attempt to get me fired when they found out I was scheduled to try and beat up a man of Latin descent.

It was a flame I should not have played with.

But, I did.

As I finished telling Carnes’ story...as best as I could remember it, I felt the mood in the crowd change. My throat ran dry. The air became thick with controversy. Once finished, I awaited my sentencing.

“OH SO YOU THINK ALL LATINOS ARE POOR AND HAVE TO SELL DRUGS?” a super angry voice broke through the tension.

“BRUH, HAVE YOU EVEN EVER BEEN ANYWHERE BUT AMERICA?” another asked.

“THAT’S FUCKING RACIST, BRO!”

“YEA, THE ONLY WAY LATINOS CAN SUCCEED IS BY BREAKING THE LAW?”

“THAT STORY SUCKS!”

“RACIST! RACIST!”

The rout was on. My doom was sealed. Items were hurled at the stage. I turned toward Mof. He threw his head to his left, indicating it was time to bolt. A rock was thrown at me. I gave the crowd my back, protecting my face. The rock hit me RIGHT IN THE TENDER SPOT AT THE BASE OF MY NECK.

FUCK.

That really hurt. I stumbled to the side. Sensing they had me on the ropes, the crowd rushed the stage.

“LET’S GO!” Mof screamed.

My stumbling led me into the wheelchair. The enormity of my frame knocked the man over. A bottle of pills rolled to my feet. I snatched them and dove toward the back of the stage, hoping I wouldn’t find a thick wall.

I fell, into the gravel road. Mof helped me up. The entire stage, behind us, began to shake. It wouldn’t be long until the mob broke through the back curtain, just as they’d witnessed me do.

In a mad dash, we took off. Eddie looked over his shoulder, “Shit, they are chasing after us!”

“We’re screwed!” I shouted.

“Wait, I have an idea…”

We sprinted toward his car. Mof opened the trunk and dragged me into an alley.

MOMENTS LATER

I emerged with Mof, on his knees, between my legs. He was shielded. As was I...under THE WIZARD cloak. The angry mob reached us...they paused.

“HEY! HAVE YOU SEEN A FUCKING RACIST AROUND HERE?”

I remained stoic.

“WHICH WAY DID THAT FUCKING RACIST GO? HE JUST ASSAULTED A LATINO MAN IN A WHEELCHAIR.”

Slowly, I pointed to the right with my staff.

“THANKS, BRO!”

And, they took off in pursuit of a target they would not find.

Once gone, Eddie crawled out from between my legs. He caught his breath and said, “Okay, let’s get the fuck out of here.”

We hopped in his car.

“That was a close one. And, to think, your career nearly ended before your first title…”

“FUCK!” I screamed.

“What?!” Ed responded, nearly driving off the road, into a ditch.

I showed him the breaking XWF news. “Hanari Carnes loses X-Treme Title to Wrestler 82.”

We both slapped the dash as hard as we could.

---

FUCKING CARNES.



Geezus fuck, dude. You seriously couldn’t hold onto that fucking title long enough to defend it at Savage?

I mean, I know the 24/7 rule is sticky and kinda annoying but, for fuck’s sake, man.

No wonder you’re record isn’t any better than fifty-fifty territory.

You can’t handle success, man. You fuckin choked!

And to Wrestler 82? The guy I thought was a jobber until I actually viewed his promo? He doesn’t even have a NAME, Carnes. He’s LITERALLY called WRESTLER.

Somehow you’re blander than he is.

Ugh, whatever.

Now I’m really gonna kick your ass.

This is still an opportunity to continue my shine. Continue my rise. Get revenge for what took place at War Games AND show why I’m the top newcomer around here (not you, GAGE).

I am The Wizard.

Bask in My Aura.

PS: Seriously, Carnes? Fuck you.