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Thaddeus Duke · (03-20-2021)

Ares Project Stronghold || Foothills of the Smoky Mountains - Tennessee || 6:48 AM

Dozens of men and women dressed in fatigues huddle around different computer monitors inside the facility. Things have gone quiet from the Illuminatus camp and that’s usually a bad sign no matter what side of the fence that you’re on. When the enemy is quiet, it usually means something is coming. On the wall, more than a dozen different screens show different Illuminatus targets all over the world. From Connecticut to Scotland to Germany to Italy and all points in between.

”We’re not seeing any movement from the son of a bitch,” the burly, aging General McGovern says to his number two as he throws a clipboard to the floor in frustration.

”No sir,” says the younger man in his mid 30’s. ”They’ve gone radio silent, but haven’t moved anything.”

”It doesn’t make a god damn bit of sense,” barks the General in frustration. ”He knows where we are and we haven’t moved. And the son of a bitch is too chicken shit to pull the god damn trigger!”

”Why do you think that is General?” asks his second in command. McGovern looks at him and scoffs. ”He was here. We had him in our clutches and he escaped.”

”That kid has balls. I’ll give him that,” McGovern replies. ”Not a lick o’ sense though.”

Resting his hand upon his chin, McGovern glances up at the screens and watches as Illuminatus troops go through their daily training drills. File footage from earlier in the day.

”If I were Thaddeus Duke,” McGovern prefaces. ”Would I hit us here where we have little fire power?”

”We both know he can’t sir,” replies his number two. McGovern looks at him. ”We’re on American soil General. He hits us here, that’s war with the military.”

”We’ve hit him hard. We’ve killed his friends,” McGovern thinks aloud. ”And he still chooses to play by the rules?” he questions rhetorically.

”Well, say what you want about him. I think he’s smart enough to know that hitting us here means he goes to war with the United States and sir, he’s smart enough to know that’s not a war he can win.

“His military is strong to be sure General, but he doesn’t have the numbers and doesn’t have the resources to win that one.”

”Maybe you’re right Marks,” McGovern says. ”Maybe he’s not as dumb as I think he is,” McGovern again thinks aloud. ”I thought attacking his plane with his kid on board would draw him into attacking us here, which would incite the government...”

”Which in turn not only spreads his resources thin, but then the government puts him in their cross hairs.”

”And they do what we haven’t been able to accomplish.”

”Kill Thaddeus Duke.”

”Sever the head and watch the body fall, Marks,” McGovern says to his lieutenant.

”With them going quiet, I think it’s time we consider moving on from here,” Marks suggests to the General.

”I want to give him another few days,” the General replies quickly. ”I need him to hit us. I need the government to start interfering Marks. I need that son of a bitch dead and I’m not sure if we’re capable of doing it,” McGovern admits.

”He’s proven himself a tough opponent sir,” Marks says.

”Yeah well,” the General begins before lighting up a cigarette. He inhales deeply and exhales slowly. ”We’ve had him many times already. Right in front of us within a fingertip away and the son of a bitch always finds a way out.”

”It’s like,” Marks begins to reply. ”Some kind of divine intervention.”

McGovern takes another drag as he glances over several different monitors. ”Are you comparing that kid to a God, Marks?”

”No sir,” Marks says as he cracks a slight smile. ”You did when you named us the Ares Project.”

With McGovern’s frustration increasing, he tosses the lit half smoked cigarette to the dirt floor and stamps it out with his foot. Marks slowly turns his head to his superior and he and McGovern’s eyes meet.

”The God of War.”

”If I didn’t know any better Lieutenant,” McGovern begins. ”I’d think you almost admired that damn kid.”

”In a way I think I do,” Marks replies causing McGovern to turn his head sharply back in his direction. ”He’s won every war he’s ever fought and General, in case you hadn’t noticed, he’s starting to deceive your best notions. If that continues, he’ll win this one too.”

McGovern shakes his head in disgust.

”Get me viable options to hit his house again,” McGovern instructs of Marks. ”We’ll see if your godlike young King Ares can weasel out of death a fourth time.”

”I’ll have you a number of options by the time we leave Tennessee sir,” Marks replies.

”General?” calls out a middle aged woman near the wall of screens. ”There’s something going on with the feed,” she says as McGovern and Marks approach the wall. The screens fade in and out with static every now and then.

”Solar interference?” the General asks of his subordinate.

”Negative sir,” she states as she looks at solar weather patterns.

”Marks, go to the server room,” he instructs. ”Maybe we got some loose wires.”

Marks turns to do as ordered.

”That won’t be necessary Lieutenant,” Thaddeus Duke says over every computer speaker in the building. ”I am that interference.”

On the center screen of the wall monitors, Thaddeus Duke fades into view.

It’s been a rough few days to say the very least. Most of it my own doing, one way or another. Today though, a new chapter begins and rather than burying me anger and aggression inside and only hurting myself, I’ve decided to unleash it on those that truly deserve it. Over the last several days while I’ve been preoccupied with personal matters, I entrusted the planning and preparation of this mission to Lincoln Tritter and my military Chiefs. When they informed me what exactly we’re doing? I have to admit, I may have gotten a little engorged.

Sitting on the edge of an Israeli built Merkava IV tank, I await my audio video team as they get set up and get me linked into our satellites. The Ares Project isn’t aware of it yet but I’ve had their locations for weeks. At least, any location that has computers, servers or satellite feeds, which I can only assume is any active base of operations that they have.

Thirteen. Thirteen bases in total spread out in secluded areas over the southern and central states. Most of them in the border regions of Texas, Arizona and New Mexico.

”Are we linked yet?” I ask of my technical advisor. Her name is Kayla.

”Not quite yet Commander, five minutes at most,” she answers as she gazes off to my right. ”New soldier?” she asks and I look to my right as a soldier is walking toward me and the tank, dressed in his fatigues and puffing on a cigar.

Instantly I sigh and roll my eyes.

Doc D’Ville.

”Nah,” I say with a bit of a smile. ”An old one.”

D’Ville climbs up on the tank and sits a few feet away from me, his feet dangling off the edge of the tank just like mine.

”The hell are you doing here?” I ask of Doc as he puffs in, then exhales. The cigar staying in place as he talks through his teeth. I’m not angry. Over the course of our time together in the XWF, I’ve grown accustomed to him just dropping in out of the blue.

”Young Duke it’s been awhile since our last session,” he replies. ”You being here, about to do what it is you’re gonna do… seems as fine a time as any, wouldn’t you agree?”

The sounds from inside the building crackle in and out on my earpiece. We’re getting closer.

”What is it you want to talk about?”

”You seem to have these… soldiers… in your cross hairs and I thought you could use some support.”

”I don’t know what it is you think is going to happen today,” I begin to say to him. ”If you think this is somehow gonna go like Berlin a few months ago, or years ago when I was a kid then Doc… I hate to be the bearer of bad news...”

”That’s unfortunate to hear, I’ll admit.”

”Why is it important to you to bring out my worst instincts?” I ask of him as we continue to chill on the edge of the tank.

Doc doesn’t answer, instead he shoots me his famous grin.

”Is death and destruction not enough for you? You’re certainly getting to watch a good bit of that.”

”Two minutes Commander,” Kayla chimes in.

”Thank you Kayla,” I reply to her before returning my attention toward D’Ville.

”I’m not here to watch, Young Duke,” he says as he climbs to his feet on the tank. I look at him perplexed. ”I’m here to partake on your endeavor and I beg your pardon Commander...” The way he says commander just suggests air quotes to me. ”But I do not see your other friends here helping their friend in his time of need. Yet here I am, little old me fighting for you.”

”Where the hell are you going?” I ask as he climbs up and stands atop the turret a moment.

”Inside the tank Young Duke.”

”Commander?” Kayla speaks up. I look in her direction and she nods, telling me we’re ready. Jumping down off the tank I straighten up and run my fingers through my hair before grabbing my helmet.

”Young Duke I don’t think you need to be pretty for this one, let’s get on with it shall we?” Doc says as he disappears down the hatch and closes the lid.

”We’re going live Commander,” Kayla informs me as I secure the helmet to my head and she turns on the light to the camera.

”Solar interference?” I hear the General asks of his subordinate.

”Negative sir,” a woman states.

”Marks, go to the server room,” McGovern instructs. ”Maybe we got some loose wires.”

”That won’t be necessary Lieutenant,” I say over every computer speaker in their building. ”I am that interference.”

”Thaddeus Duke,” the General says aloud and I give him a bow. ”To what do we owe the pleasure?”

”I assure you General, the pleasure is all mine,” I say facetiously.

”Looks like you’re all dressed up for battle, with no one to kill,” he says smugly.

”To be entirely honest General, I don’t much like killing your people.”

”And that,” McGovern wags his finger in the direction of his screen monitors. ”That’s why you’re losin’ this war.”

His remark causes me to scoff. ”Am I, General? Am I losing this war?”

”We destroyed your house...”

”And it still stands.”

”We blew your plane out of the sky...”

”You certainly did that, General.”

”We annihilated your air base...”

”Wait… wait… to be fair I destroyed it way more than you did.”

”We had you,” he begins before pausing. ”What do your people call you? General?”

”Commander,” I answer him. ”But really I’m just Thaddeus.”

”Well Commander,” he says, like Doc, with implied air quotes. ”We had you, right here in Tennessee. We could have blown that plane up with you and your boy inside it and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.

“Your reign would be over sir, and your banners would be falling all over Europe right now.”

”See General, that’s where you made the mistake,” I inform him. ”You didn’t and here I stand. Letting me out of Tennessee alive will prove to be your most fatal of mistakes McGovern. When you failed in killing me that time, it allowed my team to penetrate your satellite systems so not only are you watching this, so is every surveillance team you have in Alabama.”

I nod to Kayla and she brings up our satellite feed for their two Alabama locations on their screens.

“In Texas.”

Three screens for their Texas locations pop up. McGovern’s smug look disappears from his face.

“In New Mexico.”

Two more screens.

“In Arizona.”

Again, two more screens.

”Two in Louisiana.”

Once more, two more screens pop up.

”Do I need to go on General? Do I need to show you the three locations in Death Valley?”

”You’re wearing two sets of dog tags Commander,” he tries to change the subject. ”Lose someone close to you?”

”That’s the difference between us McGovern,” I say as I look down at the dog tags and rub one set between my thumb and finger. ”You celebrate death,” I say as I look back into the camera and shake my head. ”I mourn it.

“These tags belong to a soldier of yours that to this day I regret killing.”

”Death is a necessary evil Commander,” he prefaces. ”The facts are real god damn simple son. Your people have gone on crusades over the years persecuting and murdering good, god fearing folks all over Europe.

“And it’s our job to end terrorism in any form.”

”Terrorism,” I say with a smile. ”It’s funny you should bring that up.”

”What’s funny about terrorism?”

”Even if I had known your locations… and we knew of a few… I couldn’t really attack you could I?”

McGovern’s smug look returns to his face.

”You know as well as I do that had I attacked Americans, I’d be at war with the United States which is exactly what you wanted.”

”I can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind,” he says with a bit of a smile. ”But you’re smarter than I thought you were and you just haven’t taken the bait.”

”If I had my way General, I’d have blown your entire militia off the fucking map already.”

”So why haven’t you?”

”I pay good people a lot of money to check my worst instincts,” I say as Kayla nods to me off camera. I glance in her direction for a split second and back at the camera. ”General I’d like to direct your attention to screen one… in Alabama.”

”What am I lookin’ at son?”

Just as he asks the question, several streaks of light are seen and the base is blown to kingdom come. McGovern flinches, but doesn’t react otherwise.

”Screen two, also in Alabama.”

Again, streaks of light and the base is blown to hell. On the other screens, where Ares Project soldiers are watching this all unfold, they begin bailing out of their facilities.

”Are you watching them run General?” I ask with a bit of a laugh. ”I know I am and it’s a bit of turn on to be honest.”

McGovern doesn’t answer as his face turns more and more red.

”McGovern you’re asking yourself how this could possibly be true, why I’d risk going to war with the United States and judging by our conversation it’s clear to me that you don’t know what I know about the Ares Project.”

McGovern removes the cap from his head and throws it into the dirt.

”What could you possibly know about us that I don’t?”

Lead like a lamb to the slaughter through this entire conversation, I already anticipated this being asked and came prepared. From my side pocket of my fatigues I pull out the document.

”What I have here,” I begin as I unfold the pages and hold them up to the camera. ”Is a decree signed by the President of the United States naming the Ares Project as international terrorists.”

Silence. Inside the facility, dozens of eyes all look back at General McGovern.

”It really gets my dick hard,” I begin with a smile. ”That I was the one to let you in on that little secret.

“Are you still watching the screens?” I ask of McGovern and he shoots his eyes up toward he screens. We didn’t have the firepower to get all of the bases yet. New Mexico, Arizona and Death Valley remain untouched. Those in Texas, Louisiana and Alabama are blazing infernos with Illuminatus tanks and ground troops rolling through the locations gunning down Ares Project runners.

”Young Duke,” Doc calls out behind me. Craning my neck to look over my shoulder toward him, I notice the tank he’s in is no longer the traditional camouflage, but instead is dark crimson and black. It had been named ‘Mortis’ previously, but now it has ‘D’Ville’s Playground’ inscribed on it’s sides.

The devil works in mysterious ways.

”Are you done chatting up the enemy yet?”

”In a minute Doc, chill!”

D’Ville disappears back down the hatch as I turn back toward the camera.

”As you know General, my air force is in Germany still so the American government you thought would help you kill me has graciously loaned out a few bombers and jets to help us out here today on this mission.”

”This isn’t over!” he shouts out angrily.

”You’re right General, it’s only just begun,” I say with a nod to Kayla.

”Please excuse the theatrics General, this is also being broadcast as part of my day job,” I say with a smile as Kayla cues the soundtrack. ”Now that you’ve watched your people being gunned down, now that you’ve watched seven of your bases being utterly destroyed… did you ever stop and ask where’s Thaddeus?”

McGovern looks puzzled as I nod to Kayla. In turn, she nods to one of her hands and he fires up the floodlights engulfing the previously darkened Tennessee Ares Project base. Inside the facility, light pours in from the outside.

”Mother fuck!” McGovern shouts out in response. His men and women begin bolting for the doors.

”I hope you enjoy your death soundtrack General,” I say to him as I climb up on ‘D’Ville’s Playground. ”Just think McGovern, of how bad this is gonna get when I bring my air force from Germany.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” I say after switching communications from their facility to my people. ”LIGHT ‘EM UP!”

At once the tanks, including Doc D’Ville’s crimson and black beast, clears their cannons and start rolling forward. Laying on my stomach on the side of ‘D’Ville’s Playground’, Kayla tosses me my rifle. Another volley of cannon fire strikes the facility and their men and women start pouring from the windows and doors on either side of the building firing back at us.

Between each of the seven tanks are columns of foot soldiers. At the head of the line, I put some of my strongest men to carry shields. It’s a primitive battle plan to be sure, but effective for the setting in which we find ourselves in. Covering fire from the tanks, the shield carriers kneel, the gunners behind them open fire on living targets. It’s all very simple: if it moves? Kill it so it doesn’t.

There’s a bit of a lull in the action as the tanks approach the perimeter fence. A few men from the Ares Project spill from inside their facility and begin firing. Momentarily, I wonder if lying down on the side of a tank was maybe not the best idea as bullets begin rattling against ‘D’Ville’s Playground. No sooner do I think that and a large plate rises from the side of the tank, providing me with my own shield.

”Thanks Lou,” I call it into my radio.

”Young Duke, our sessions are far from over,” Doc calls back. ”Can’t well do that if you’re dead.”

”I’m sure you’d find a way.”

With all seven tanks pressed against the fencing, the tankers in near unison, throttle their machines, collapsing the fencing beneath them. D’Ville lowers my shield again allowing me to fire back. It quick succession, I drop AP soldiers like flies. One by one in my ear piece, I’m being informed of operational successes all over the south.

”Shield,” I say to Doc and within a second my shield is up, allowing me a moment to pull out my cell and watch live feed footage from other areas of the country. One by one, the Ares Project’s adopted ‘don’t tread on me’ flag is replaced with Illuminatus banners flying high.

”Commander?” Kayla calls into my radio. ”There’s captured enemy survivors. The Field Commanders want to know what you want done with them.”

Survivors, I think to myself in my head. I intended for there to be no survivors. At once, I pull Harold Jenkins’ dog tags from inside my shirt and rub them together between my thumb and finger. The last time I stared down AP Survivors, I had them eliminated from the equation.

”Sir?” she asks as another round of cannon fire is released from the tanks and into the facility. Peering over the shield for a moment, the building is riddled with holes and blazing both inside and out.

Ducking down once more, I consider my options.

”Commander, they’re awaiting your orders,” Kayla chimes in again.

Last time I was in such a position, I most assuredly made the wrong call. I’ve done that quite often in the past then mulled over in my head why I did, and thinking about how I need to change that before following up by doing absolutely nothing about the emotions that drive my decision making.

I can’t do that anymore.

”Let them know who controls their fate,” I call back to Kayla. ”Treat them with respect as fellow soldiers, and take them into custody. Any mistreatment of enemy combatants without just cause will be met with severe repercussions.”

”Ugggh,” Doc chimes in over my radio with an audible grunt of displeasure causing me to chuckle.

”They want to know what kind of repercussions,” Kayla calls back as the tanks roll to a stop and the fighting ceases.

”The final kind,” I answer back quickly as I roll off the side of the tank to the ground below.

Looking on and taking it all in, I watch as a few of my men beat the steel doors on all three sides of the building with battering rams.

”Not what I expected,” D’Ville says as he strolls up next to me and pulls a cigar from inside his shirt. He doesn’t even light it, but he puffs anyway and smoke billows from its now glowing red end.

”War never is,” I say as I turn my head to look at him. The man pulls a second cigar from inside his shirt and hands it to me. ”I don’t smoke,” I say waving him off.

”You only live twice, Young Duke,” he says with a glance at the unlit cigar and back at me with a nod, insisting I have it.

His remark causes me to chuckle but I humor the man and take the cigar and stick it in my mouth.

”How do I..” I begin to ask but he quickly cuts me off.

”Just inhale,” he interrupts. Doing as he says, I inhale and my cigar, like his a moment ago, is burning red with smoke billowing from the end. ”Why do any of this if you don’t stop and celebrate a successful mission now and again?”

”What did you expect?” I ask him as I puff the cigar. He looks over at me. ”You said it wasn’t what you expected,” I remind him.

”A challenge,” Doc answers.

”They didn’t want it as much as they thought they did,” I offer in response. ”There’ll be others Doc. When they don’t have their pants down.

“I mean, if you wanted partake further.”

The door finally gives way and a steady stream of my soldiers flow in through the doors. After a dozen or so, I grab my rifle from the edge of Doc’s tank and head inside. Not an enemy in sight.

Pulling my phone out, I bring up live satellite feed over Tennessee and focus on our position before scrolling around the area. Nothing. Not a soul in sight.

”The General slipped away?” Doc asks.

I nod my head.

”I caught a runner!” one of my soldiers cries out as he comes in through a side door with a man with his arms zip tied behind his back. My man gives him a swift smack in the back of his his with the butt of his rifle. ”What do you want done with him Commander?”

Nonchalantly I walk over to the both of them and bitch slap my soldier with the butt of my own rifle. He falls to his knees with blood trickling from his nose. Pulling my sidearm from my thigh holster I pull the hammer back and place the barrel against the back of his head.

”Did that seem respectful to you?” I ask of him.

”Commander?” Kayla interrupts. ”I think I found a trap door.”

I release the hammer from my pistol and holster it. Looking up at Kayla, she reaches for the handle in the trap door.

”No, don’t!” I yell out but it’s too late. The hatch had a tamper switch and as soon as she lifted the handle it triggered a small bomb killing her and three nearby while causing a few of the rest of us to be thrown against the wall. Myself, I was thrown halfway out of the doorway. I search quickly for D’Ville but as mysteriously as he arrived, he seems to have departed.

Later the next night, the C-130 transport touches down in Connecticut. Those things… are the military equivalent of a sardine can with wings. There is no comfort and you can hear everything and nothing at the same time. It rolls to a stop on the runway and there’s no way in hell anyone beats me to the door.

Get me off this fucking thing.

Lincoln Tritter is here to meet me and give me a ride back to the house.

”Word is McGovern got away,” he says as he leans against the blacked out Chevy Tahoe.

”He did,” I answer him as I throw my bags in the back of the SUV. Tritter shakes his head. ”Doesn’t matter though,” I say dismissively as I throw open the back door and throw myself inside, laying back across the bench seat.

”Why doesn’t it matter?” he asks as he climbs into the driver seat and puts the car in gear.

”Because we’ve taken half of their bases Linc,” I offer him in response. ”They’re in disarray, they’re running, they’re scared, and mostly because I want a fucking shower and some sleep.”

”You’re the boss,” he says as he steers onto the highway. Rolling along, I couldn’t help but noticing a giant billboard advertising for the Brotherhood of Baddies. I laugh to myself as I try to catch a catnap.

Unable to really sleep, I just lie there staring up at the roof of the Tahoe. Several minutes later, in town, I glance out the window as he turns onto Galileo Drive and I notice a number of homes with B.o.B. flags flying from their porches. This turn causes me to sit up and look out at them incredulously.

”What… the...” I mutter to myself. Several more minutes later, Tritter rolls the Tahoe to a stop outside the big house and quickly I bolt, wanting to get a head start on my sleep.

”Hey sweetie,” Berta says as I enter the house.

”Hey Berta, no time to talk. I want sleep,” I say as I try to blow passed her.

”This came for you while you were out,”she says as she hands me an envelope.

”You gotta be kidding me,” I say with a growing smile. ”Corey’s not gonna believe this.”

First things first, I really need to address the elephant in the room and that’s this past Warfare and the match with Shawn Wylde. I want it to be known that I truly meant to give that boy a classic match and help elevate him the way I made Chris Page fuckin’ matter again, but it just wasn’t in the cards. We exchanged some great chain reversals and he got a couple of moves in but at the end of the day, I just didn’t feel like Shawn Wylde was gonna matter no matter what I gave him in that match so I decided to give him the most devastating superkick in the business instead and beat him quickly.

That was a gift to myself if I’m being real honest.

I’mma go on record here as I move on from that rather convincing victory, is if there was any real doubt about what way that match was gonna go, and talk a little bit about a former tag team champion out there running his cocksucker about making the tag team division matter again…

Except…

There’s a problem with that logic…

While the tag team division is probably more active and has a brighter future than maybe it has ever been and ever had, I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that the division only took off after Continuum defeated Cataclysm and ended that reign of average. Is that because Continuum is more beatable? Thad smiles because Thad.

Or is it simply because Cataclysm was so fucking boring and average that until a pay per view rolled around, the entire fucking roster forgot we even had a tag division? I’m guessing it’s the latter. I mean, say what you want about me, about Corey and even about Doc but what we’re not is boring or average.

Protect that Universal title reign Chris, wink wink.

Look at him, taking two divisions in a calendar year and making them suck.

Tag division? Check.

Universal division? Check.

If I’m being honest, I regret losing that fuckin belt to Chris Page and it’s not sour grapes, it’s not even Page himself. See, I know for a fact someone was gunnin’ for me for March Madness had I held onto it and that someone sure as shit deserves to have a shot at that title. He deserves it far more than Big Dope ever did. He sure as hell deserves it more than quote unquote Anarchy does.

That man is Alias.

Alias doesn’t like me even a little bit. Maybe he has good reason, maybe he doesn’t but the fact of the matter is real simple. Had I not dropped the most important fucking title to Mr. Imma|just|show|up|on|TV|so|that|people|remember|that|I’m|champion, Alias would have his fucking shot and we wouldn’t all be subjected to this Chris Page nonsense of self importance.

Sorry Alias. Sorry XWF Universe. That failure, and the state of the Universal title division is on me alone and I’m working on forgiving myself but it’s gonna be a minute.

Thad rolls his eyes.

Now that I’m done with my Chris Page rant on how much he sucks the life out of the most important title in the industry, it’s time to turn our attention to Them No Good Bastards.

Frankie would be loving this right now. He still loves Robbie.

Anyway… let’s talk about him real quick. Last August, Robbie beat yours truly twice in back to back episodes of Warfare and if you’re thinking that that someone means something to current affairs, you’re wrong. See, Robbie has this switch. And he can’t turn it on and off at will, and he doesn’t control it. When the switch is on he can beat anyone, when he doesn’t, you get the current iteration of Mr. Bourbon. That’s the inconsistency that has plagued him his entire career.

The guy goes from owning Warfare, and by rights, me, for two months, to winning the Hart title off of the worst champion in history to getting beat by Ned Kaye. Ned Kaye is a talented guy but the reality of the situation is that Ned Kaye shouldn’t ever beat Robbie Bourbon.

Ever.

Robbie has the uncanny ability to fall into that cycle of great to average, great to average, over and over and no one makes himself a bigger joke than Robbie does. Case in point: joining the Brotherhood of Baddies which is kind of the XWF equivalent to a who’s not list. Joining B.o.B. made Bobby less than what he should be and if he can’t see that, then I can’t help him.

In contrast to that, my old friend, and I use that term loosely, Thunder Knuckles… he joined B.o.B and it somehow elevated his wrestling career. It’s not a big jump from slightly below average to average but as nonathletic as TK is, he did actually make that leap. Almost face planted, but the leap he made.

I remember it like it was yesterday, Thunder Knucks… they put me in a match for a title I didn’t want. I went on and on about not wanting that title of yours but then I went and took it from you anyway… because I could. But you made that triumphant comeback though didn’t you? You went on to take it from Page at Relentless and ole TK was back where he thought he belonged with the TV tile around his… well… it’s a waist anyway… before running into Chokey Nickles. A man that can’t beat anyone that matters when it matters and ole TK lost to Chokey.

I bet that still sticks in your craw doesn’t it?

I’ll have you know, he’s still not beating anyone that matters.

You know what that’s like, don’t you TK?

Guys, this has been fun, but I need a god damn nap.

Oh, and to answer the question Corey posed? No… Thunder Knuckles can’t do either of those things.

The tires on my private jet screech and squeal as they touchdown on the runway in Florida. It’s been a long several days and I’m still tired as hell. But I made it a priority to take this down time between Warfare, both figuratively and literally, and March Madness and just spend some quality time with my brother from another mother.

Odd though, if you think about it. I consider him like a brother to me… There’s videos on the internet that start out that way too.

The door to the plane opens up swings down, its lights illuminating me as I step out, ready and willing to embark on this search for answers with Corey fuckin’ Smith.

[Image: UmZtMlt.png]

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode The Storm Before the Calm: RP#1
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