I opened my eyes and pulled strands of platinum blonde hair out of my face. The sun poured in the windows of my Miami penthouse. Staying at my own place was an easy choice after the last Action Wrestling show was not too far from here. It was a scorcher outside, but luckily my central air kept the place a comfortable seventy degrees. It was on the market but this place was one of the few things I still like about the state of Florida. Among other things. My eyes moved to the source of the platinum blonde hair, the woman in my bed. I had met her the night before at LIV in the city. I think her name was Cindy or Cora or something. I didn’t remember. I didn’t remember much from the night before but that was par for the course. Hopefully, her name didn’t rhyme with a female body part.

I carefully pulled the sheet off me and slipped out of bed, quiet as a mouse as the bedroom was full of her slight snores. I lightly treaded over and pulled a pair of shorts on before creeping out of my room quietly. I entered the living room and plopped down on my couch, turning the wall-mounted television on to Sports Center. I rolled my eyes at more nonsense spewing from Bart Scott’s mouth before I suddenly had the feeling I was forgetting something. I shrugged to myself and tried to put it out of my mind when I saw my phone on the glass coffee table where I left it flashing. I grabbed it and opened the phone. It was a notification from Chris Page reminding everyone the deadline for Cannabis Cup promos was imminent.

“Fuck!” I screamed loud enough that I’m sure I woke Cindy/Cora up from her deep slumber. I leapt from the couch and hurried about my place, getting things together in a rush. I kept muttering 'fuck' under my breath as I scurried about.

A short while later I had put on a suit and set up a camera on the coffee table, making sure it was aimed at me. It’s been a long time since I cut a promo directly on camera to send it in but I had to make do with what I had available to me at the moment. I pressed record on the camera and forced a smirk on my face like anyone on the outside would expect.

“Ladies and gentlemen, It is I, your Hollywood Hero and Living Legend, Gerard Angelo. How are all of you Cannabis Cuppers doing today? I hope you’re enjoying the time you all have left before this tournament kicks off. I hope you’re all yelling into the ether about how you're taking the inaugural Cannabis Cup home. Yell about how nobody in this stands up to your athleticism and skill, how this tournament is in your wheelhouse. Talking about how you're the best wrestler to walk the face of God’s green earth,” I said, keeping the smirk across my lips the whole time.

“And I know you all see me here and you’re going to pretend that you don’t know who I am. Better yet, you’re probably chomping at the bit to make a joke about how I’m “Raven-lite”, something that was old and not clever after the first time it was said to me. But I know with most of you, cleverness and ingenuity aren’t you’re strong suits. It’s mostly beating your chest on Twitter trying to look like you’re better than everyone, how you’re life is so perfect while everything burns in the background. Social Median one-oh-one.”

I chuckled and waved a hand in the air dismissively.

“You all can yell about how you’re the best here, the best there. Here’s a news flash though, I’m the best everywhere. It’s true. How do you ask? I’m not the strongest, I’m not the fastest. Hell, I’m not even taller than James Raven. What I am though, is the smartest. That is how you win things like the Cannabis Cup. You having the most power or the best technical skill is irrelevant if you can’t process the information on the fly and adjust. It doesn’t matter how many flips you can do or how good you are on the stick if you can’t put together a game plan. That’s why I am going to win the entire thing. I’ve been filing away information about every single one of you since this event was announced. I’ve meticulously watched every bit of film I could get my hands on. Anybody who I face I will be able to put together an air-tight strategy.”

I lean back on the couch as I keep eye contact with the camera.

“Can any of you say that? Probably not. It’s the same old nonsense with all of you. ‘Ha, you suck. I smash. I win.’” I roll my eyes as I say this, reaching do to the table to lift my glass of scotch and take a sip.

“Even if you’re not pretending, you will know who I am when this is over. I’m going to be the guy Chris and Candice hand the damn trophy to while the rest of you are scratching heads wondering what the fuck just happened. In fact-”

“Okay, I’m ready to go!”

The smirk falters from my face as the woman from last night walks into my living room, her expensive-looking heels clicking off the marble floor. She had shimmied back into her dress and touched up her make-up but it was still quite obvious what happened last night. We locked eyes and stared at each other for a moment as if she was expecting me to make a spectacle about her leaving. I keep my seat on the couch.

“Okay love, I’ll definitely give you a call next time I’m in town. You know where the door is”, I said as I turned back to the camera. She gave me an incredulous look before turning and walking slowly to the door.

“Oh wait!”, I said, leaping to my feet. She turned with a smile. I rummaged through papers on my coffee table before pulling one out. I walked over to her and handed her the piece of paper. She looked down at it and back up at me.

“What is this?”

“This you need to fill out so my people can send you a gift basket. You know you joined an exclusive club last night!” I gave her a grin. She just raised an eyebrow and tried to read it over. I reached into my jacket and removed a pen, handing it to her. She went over it and filled out the information before signing.

“That’s also an NDA. Thank you. Hope you enjoyed your stay. I know I did.”

She looked at me in shock as I opened the door and gently pushed her out into the hallway before shutting the door and locking it. Hopefully, she can reminisce about our night together while she enjoys the items in the gift basket. I looked down at the paper.

“Oh! Her name was Molly. I was way off.”