Post by Seth Iser on Mar 2, 2015 0:14:29 GMT -6
The scariest thing anybody can ever delve into is the darkness of the human mind. It is in that vestige of space in the brain that we as human beings are capable of performing the most cruel actions imaginable. The majority of people dismiss this subject of the human mind as taboo but it isn’t...it’s been in our nature to do heinous things for generations over the most petty disagreements. Just we, as the ignorant bunch of sheep that we are, choose to ignore it and brush it under the table and feign shock whenever something like the CIA torture report comes out in great detail about our war crimes against people who in some cases...were innocent.
Then again, there’s always a vocal, sick minority who enjoys these things to a degree that even I can’t consider healthy. The ones who shout louder than anyone that they don’t care that an innocent man gets tortured with insects and waterboarded by our government. There’s even a different minority that just wants to cover things up and make sure nobody ever sees these horrible offenses. The problem is...by repressing the truth, the worst of it all, you provoke and stoke that dark side of the human mind all over again. Lust for crime or false patriotism can be that fuel in that heinous part of the brain. It’s part of those petty details that create these horrors.
Yet when these loudmouth fools see these same actions that they enabled for generations used against them...they have the temerity to decree that people like me...are what’s wrong with this world. These people are brazen enough to support any man who tolerates their heinous actions and support them by bribing them with money, support, cheers, or admiration that’s all false. They do it to the point where they’re willing to forgive any transgressions they might have caused either in the past or to other people as long as they’re performed against the people they loathe or can’t stand.
Welcome to America...land of the depraved and home of the gullible.
It’s a pattern of behavior that we never learn from...because we did it to the American Indians...atrocities to black men since before the existence of our country and hell even more modern egregious errors like our conduct in the Vietnam war by bombing innocent countries and use of...torture as well as this latest incursion into Iraq under the most retarded administration in modern history...and it’s set of abuses. Even now...when I bring these truths up...they’re just begging for their tainted heroes like Roger Wright or now Rob Riot to plunge me into the darkness to where I never can recover.
But it won’t happen...because they both reside there with me...whether they know it or not.
The list of Roger’s sins in the industry just in the span of this company’s history leads off a never ending list; the most recent one he committed well… it’s as incriminating and damning as anything you can do to another human being. Even if Blair deserves all the anguish and mockery for her tainting of every championship and humanity itself with her heinous existence...the child is probably scarred for life and it’s both their faults.
But alas...this week I’m facing a man whose name and sinfulness go in far too many fronts in Rob Riot. Another...god damn hero.
Another god damn golden boy…
I watched from afar when he swore to everyone that he would uphold the traditions of the World Title by being an upfront referee after Blair’s hideous stunt dented its prestige further. What I saw by just through his body language, the slower cadence and just inviting Hunter to do something because of his relationship with my former stablemate Valora and the laundry list of problems that he has with the myth killer. Never thought I’d see the day where I’d take Hunter’s side on an issue...but Riot hosed Hunter worse than what I did with Roger. Yet...where is the outcry from the masses? Where are HIS death threats?
Oh but they say he’s the GOOD guy...what a load of crap.
It’s a never ending cycle, really. These particular battles between the falsehoods that people love to live in and the bitter pill of the truth. Riot is another guy...everyone seems to love and they’re willing to excuse his conduct of being a biased, heinous official just because it was against a man that the world dislikes. Instead of learning from history...time and time again we see it one more time that they’re hiding behind the facade that is this great wrestler but horrible human being.
But credit where credit is due Riot...you are, like you have many times, pulling the wool over the eyes of the masses. You’re better than the Republicans in that respect...lying and manipulating with your words while your actions speak of something else and people still loving you and believing your propaganda. You might actually be better at that than you are at the sport of wrestling...and again from what I’ve seen from afar...there’s never been an issue with your ability as a wrestler.
But in your entire life...there isn’t another human being on the planet that’s like me. As Roger is finding out...I’m not a monster. No, I’m far worse than that label that’s been cast down upon me for years now. You know those lines of falsehood that are shining high and mighty right now? I’m the dark grain of truth mixed with the absolute worst parts of the human mind...and in just your couple months in this company Rob...I’m going to unleash all those qualities on you. It’s why they had given me the Deity of Destruction nickname for years not because it looks good on a t-shirt that most of these damn kids are worried about selling...I was given that nickname because of the brutality I bring to the ring.
But alas the Deity of Destruction is no more...but I’m something far worse than even a Deity, Rob.
I’m the absolute worst in humanity...thanks to people like you. And I’m going to torment you in that ring from the inside out…
The winds of Chicago always have the worst bite to them in the heart of winter. The Canadian air just swoops on down and that specific kind of chill rocks me on my permanently aching knees. A few flurries do find their way on the frigid ground. The other thing I’ve never missed about this god damn city is the smog and rudeness of their people. Most cities have that edge to them to begin with but there is a particular animosity toward outsiders in the city of Chicago. An animosity that Rob dealt with his first night in the company but is more forgiven for it than I ever will be considering our...stints in other companies and my previous run in New Edge.
“Selective…” I mutter, “People are selective and are selective about the wrong fucking things…”
With a sigh I glance over at my now decade old black silverado before shutting the driver’s side door on it. The building I’ve parked in front of is a brick business building though the sign in the front has been vandalized and Moretti, the lazy bastard, hasn’t put up a replacement yet. I’m guessing since he’s associated with me they’re getting at both me and him by vandalizing his business but...they really don’t know that sneaky bastard at all. I glance to my right and see all the other tall buildings mixed in with this and wonder if they were just having a pissing contest on which one is the biggest. A loud howl of wind interrupts my train of thought and my black hair goes in every direction because of it now.
“I really hate this fucking city.” I seethe, “Fuck the sporting teams, the people, the food, the specials. Everything.”
“Oh great…” I hear a female murmur.
“Pardon?” I raise my eyebrow at the direction of that voice.
The one glance in that direction is enough to get the female that had spoken up to begin to sweat. The same glance and glare that leads to far too many bad things that have ever happened in many people’s lives. She feels the weight of it and it takes several seconds to adjust and look me in the eyes. Even in the winter, her green eyes to shine through, and I glance at the small, slender brown haired lass and she is wearing a very respectable blue business suit designed for a female. She studies my own defensive posture.
“I take it you’re Seth. You match the description.” she coldly replies.
“There better be only one of me…” I roll my eyes, “God help the world if someone else matches my description.”
The woman frowns down at my sarcasm while another brush of wind goes on. She waves her finger and starts walking around toward the entrance of the building and with a shrug, I put my hands in my jacket pocket of my black and purple suit and follow her. The slush on the ground making my feet inside my dress shoes feel frigid. Even before walking on the broken sidewalk and glancing back around the city of Chicago...one look up in the sky and how black and ominous it is...something just feels very off. Something bad is about to happen...the way the wind is blowing.
I can feel it in my bones.
The young secretary leads me into the building and the giant blow of heat just sucker punches me and my entire body begins to perspire immediately. Once stepping through the second set of glass doors, I glance around at the base floor room where there are many cubicles with computers. I just raise my eyebrow a bit wondering what Moretti has done financially here but it does at the very least look efficient from a technological standpoint even if all the grey from the walls to the cubicles would drive any man insane.
“Could I at least get a name from you?” I inquire.
“Samantha…” she coldly replies.
“I’m guessing Moretti wants a word…” I mutter as we approach the center silver door that simply reads ‘Elevator’, “But he was mum about the details. Just texted me to be at this building.”
“Yes sir. He just said for me to come meet you at that location. He doesn’t give me very many specifics though…” her voice trails off, a layer of disgust evident.
“That isn’t a surprise…” I shrug as Samantha hits the up button, “You aren’t a boss unless you hide things from your employees after all.”
“Ugh. Tell me about it.” she replies with increasing disgust, “I don’t even want to think of what he’s doing in his office by himself with all those potential secrets.”
“We all have secrets, kid. I have some, Jesse Styles has his...and Rob Riot has them too. Things we don’t want many people to know. It’s how things are…some just accept certain people’s secrets easier than others.” I calmly answer as the elevator door opens and the two of us step inside, “But I have an inkling of what Vincent is doing and you probably DON’T want to be in the room while he’s performing said...activity.”
“Gross…” she shutters piecing it together without hesitation.
“That isn’t even top hundred of heinous things a man could keep secret.” I coldly reply while straightening my purple tie.
The poor lass continues to wince in absolute disgust at what Vincent could be doing as the elevator doors shut and we begin our ascent up this building. Her skin is going pale because she put too much thought into it but I’m just standing there with my arms crossed...pondering what kind of business Moretti could have with me today rather than his...extracurricular activities. Soon the elevator stops rising and we hear the ding as the silver doors move open but my train of thought is interrupted by a familiar shriek.
“WHAT THE HELL!? FUCK YOU INTERNET!” Moretti’s scream from his office is heard, “You ALWAYS have the worst god damned timing! I will rape your ancestors with a fucking battery for this shit!”
“God...dammit,” I manage to mutter before putting my hand over my forehead.
“Wha-what?” Samantha’s face starts to turn red.
“Kid, it’s everything you’re probably thinking and worse now…” I cringe, still facepalming, “I’d suggest you le--”
Before I can finish my sentence to this poor woman, the door to Moretti’s office down this narrow grey hallway opens and now she’s seeing things that she’ll probably be unable to unsee. The man’s silver hair is slicked back with his black coat and silver undershirt on but his pants are around his ankles and there’s some white...stains on his blue boxers. Moretti’s face is boiling angry and it is at that moment I realize he has a router in his right hand and...a golf club in his left hand. He’s so incensed that he still hasn’t noticed us yet as Sam cautiously steps out of the elevator and I follow suit with a little less tact.
“Every-fucking-time you freeze at the good part. Well NOT ANYMORE! FUCK YOU TECHNOLOGY! FUCK YOU IN YOUR ASS!” he shouts before slamming the router down on the hard floor.
The vein on Moretti’s forehead is exploding as he soon gets this devilish smirk etched on his face before he takes the golf club and smacks the defective router over the top and the plastic protective case begins to crack from it. A second mighty swing and the case starts to shatter and the plastic starts to go flying everywhere. The debris even scatters as far as my feet as now Moretti is smashing the soldiered up insides that made the router and the end result is that everything is exploded all over the floor.
“Got you now motherfucker! I win!” Moretti yells.
The crazed bastard soon puts the golf club between his legs, with his pants STILL at his ankles, and does a ridiculous dance around the shattered pieces of this destroyed router. He’s cackling with glee while I can see poor Samantha’s face grow into brighter shades of red. I just shrug my shoulders...this is a normal day in the office for Vincent in my mind. After a quick dance, he slams the golf club down like a football player spikes the ball after scoring a touchdown. He glances in satisfaction at this display; Moretti then peers over to find out that Sam and I had been watching this go down the entire time and his jaw just drops.
“Mothe---” Moretti pauses for a minute trying to choose his words wisely, “Sam! Can you clean this damn mess up from the floor?”
“Could you at least pull up your PANTS?” she replies with her sharp tongue in disgust.
“Oh…” Moretti peers down to realize he’s exposed himself, “Why didn’t you point this out sooner?”
“Because you’re a damn lunatic who had to break that poor router. What did that router do?” I interject.
“God dammit Seth.” Moretti growls, “It did EVERYTHING! It’s part of this shitty internet problem.”
“Is it like Atlantic Broadband?” I inquire.
“Those motherfuckers?” Vincent raises his eyebrows as he pulls his business pants up, “Shit, they try to institutionalize you and after they fail now they’re making internet? I’m afraid to see what quality of bullshit they try to interject for the consumer.”
“Can’t be worse than Roger or Rob Riot being painted by the audience as perfect...golden boys…” I seethe.
“I got my autograph signed by Rob Riot one time at a RSW event…” Sam quipes.
“Good for you.” I spit in disdain before turning toward Moretti, “Now about our business. Let’s go into your office. Now.”
Sam blinks twice at my hostile tone before she begins to do what Vincent commanded her to do as Moretti points at the door as he’s putting his belt on around his waist. We enter the wooden doors and I glance at his surprisingly organized office. There’s a desk with his name there on the front with a laptop at the center of the desk with a wire coming from it...I’m assuming the charger. Behind him is an open window to give him a look at what’s going on outside in this miserable fucking city. There’s even a stack of books on the wall to the right and a few office chairs there on some nice rug so they don’t go flying around. Vincent takes his seat in front of his desk as I take the chair right in front of him and I peer off to the right and I see multiple editions of playboy.
Some things just never change.
“I thought you’d be wearing your new mask,” Moretti quipes.
Moretti closes his laptop casually and puts his feet on his desk with an arrogant shit-eating grin on his face. He peers down at his desk while it seems like he’s scanning his eyeballs for something in particular. I glance inside my jacket and in one of the inside pockets is that black mask that Moretti is referencing. I can feel Moretti look back at me the moment I glanced at my own mask and I return the glance with a hardened glare of my own to see how serious he is about probing the issue.
“People might know my face but with this particular mask...it draws more unwanted attention to me in the public eye. I can hide in plain sight a little bit without it. I prefer my privacy. Always have.” I calmly answer.
“Makes it all the weirder that you’re in a public sport such as wrestling like I was as well…” Vincent shrugs before pulling out two yellow colored folders, “Then again...I would’ve thought you would’ve been stuck in an insane asylum before Rob Riot was.”
“Well…” I blink twice a little bit perplexed, “I thought he’d be out of there by now. Hunter put the screws to him that bad?”
“In a way New Edge kind of did do that. Look at his job at being a ref after all,” Moretti answers with a stern seriousness.
“Wasn’t as direct either...but you knew that something shady was going to happen in that situation. Just the fans were willing to forgive him since the shady happening ended up going against someone they hated. Another day in America.” I sneer in disgust, “Fuck this country.”
I dig my fingernails into the arm of the chair as my anger, often triggered by the hypocrisy that has always existed in this country, flares up once more. I can see Moretti hide the faintest of smiles at this sight before he jars his eyes at the first folder he’s picked up and nodding to himself. He glances back at me and I’m just staring at him impatiently just waiting for him to speak up in this cruel game of cat and mouse he has me playing right this minute. He’s always been like this whenever he wants a favor and he might hold something you want...even to his acquaintances.
“Well Seth…” Moretti pauses, “But let’s get to the reason why I wanted you here. There’s an issue with a man in this city...and I know you haven’t taken too many of these jobs over the last few years but considering how he’s screwed many people over yet is perceived as a good guy in this city. Sound familiar?”
“It’s a never ending trend. Doesn’t matter the spectrum…” I quietly reply.
“There’s two important folders here, Seth. The first one helps with this job should you accept it. The second...well it has a little bit of infomation you might want to know...though I can spill a nugget of it now if you do accept,” Moretti smirks.
“Let’s go into the specifics of the job first…” I calmly reply, “Then we’ll conclude with the nugget but should I accept this job Vincent...you and I both know that the higher the profile the more likely there’s back up so you’re coming with me.”
“Fair.” Moretti smiles, “Was hoping you’d say that. I could use some other way to blow off steam because the damn computer kept freezing on my me time personal relief…”
“Taking advantage of all the free porn Bobby Backdoor sent you?” I raise my eyebrow.
“Dude! Fuck you! No dick in male ass action! NO LIGHTSABER PENIS ACTION EITHER! Just vaginas for days!” Vincent defensively shrieks out.
“Whatever you say…” I needle before coughing under my breath, “Homophobe…”
“What the hell are you doing…” he questions as he notices my shift.
The streams of sweat start pulling down Vincent’s face as I stand up from my chair for a second. He looks at me nervously wondering what I might be doing as I calmly walk around the desk trying not to laugh at the sheer amount of panic that’s overtaken his face. He looks like he’s about to scream out no but before he can even blurt the word out I just shoot the nastiest glare I can muster up and he pipes back down. Finally I just open the laptop and to absolutely no surprise...I find out exactly what he was doing.
“Huh…” I pause looking at the two females with their fake snavences out for the world to see and an adult toy between their private parts, “What do you know…you learn something new everyday.”
“That’s...enough of that,” Moretti slams the laptop down while wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Talk about wholesome entertainment but who am I to talk after the now former world champion did the most vile and disrespectful thing this industry has ever seen…” I reply with a contorted frown.
“I was never into cumswapping porn but that’s besides the point...and we’re deviating way too much…” Moretti fidgets in embarrassment, “God dammit Seth.”
Knowing that I got what I wanted out of my long time associate I can’t even hide the smirk on my face anymore as I calmly walk around the desk and resume my seat calmly glancing at Moretti who is far from happy with me after this display. He takes a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself after the brief embarrassment before he forcefully slides the first folder in my direction across the desk. He straightens his crooked black tie finally before taking one last deep breath and his eyes soon turn very cold.
“His name is Thomas Stevenson as you’ll find out on the file. He frequents many of the strip clubs despite being a supposedly happily married man. He’s ripped off many people including a couple of my employees and me indirectly with the scam of charity work for the sake of his religion but he’s been pocketing the money for himself,” Vincent begins.
“Oh son of a bitch…” I mouth in disgust, “They’re appearing everywhere again…the levels of hypocrisy they do because they hid behind religion...it’s way too damn similar to how many of the wrestlers act when they have the support of these stupid sheep. People don’t learn their history...ever.”
“It’s worse than you think…” Moretti continues, “He’s even been at many events damning us for how we have sexual intercourse but then goes out and has happy endings at strip clubs with women who are not his wife. So...the idea here is to either make him pay up financially or to end him. We’re trying to get our money back first...but if that isn’t successful we’ll have to do some Family styled dirty work. We do this and not only do you get your extra information but you’ll also be paid accordingly. I know your daughter would appreciate the extra funds.”
“Well…” I reply with a particularly scary smile etched on my face as I grab the folder with my right hand, “The decision’s an easy one now. It may take a couple of days but let’s take care of this, shall we?”
“Good.” Moretti beams, “And since you agreed...I’ll hold up to my end of the bargain.”
“That’s a rarity…” I bark up a laugh.
“Dude really? I’m not THAT bad” he rolls his eyes before he glances at me with a more...solemn expression, “To be serious though Seth...what I do know is your former stablemate Valora and Rob Riot have some sort of connection now.”
“What?” I raise my eyebrow.
“It might be part of why the people are also more positive to Valora but...I’m sure as you’ve seen from afar...she’s changed. I think Rob has quite a bit to do with that.”
“Well shit…” I sigh before reaching into my jacket to pull out my mask, “I’ll digest this more in the car. There’s too much work to be done now.”
“Aye…” Moretti replies before he leads me out the door.
With that thought now I’m picturing in my brain that some sort of vile assault on Rob now might bring on the rampage of an angry Latina Woman who literally is content at times to die in that ring for her sins. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it as I calmly put the mask on about ready to carry on my next job. Even knowing that small tidbit...and the new wave of enemies it would make me in this current climate...it doesn’t matter. I’m used to fighting everyone at the same time...with the barrel of a gun pointed at my skull.
And I don’t think Rob Riot quite knows that experience...that sobering reality that one mistake could end you.
I took my chances with Roger Wright at Tension in Texas and even with Blair’s hideous actions tainting the championship...it’s an action I don’t regret nor one I could take back. I made my bed. Revived the fervor in old enemies and created a whole list of new ones. But this is the nature of the beast if you have any microcosm of success...someone’ll always be pissed off and want to take you out for it.
And just as much as people do that to me...I want to do the same to Rob Riot just so he can finally experience failure.
I’d wager that he’s in the asylum partly because of the heinous things that have happened but also partly because his ego is so enormous that he can’t handle that things are going his way exactly and the red carpet hasn’t been rolled out for him just because of his illustrious success everywhere he’s ever been. I’m sure he’s used to the envy in other people when he walks by with his laundry list of accomplishments...but he’s about to step in the ring with the one guy who always DOES something about the things he envies and does whatever it takes...to get the job done.
I’d be lying if I said that a part of me doesn’t enjoy...seeing how you’re starting to squirm in a situation you’re not quite used to. The worst of your own being is coming out...the fear, the paranoia and the longing for what it should be when a man of your caliber comes to a wrestling promotion like New Edge. Just your false sense of entitlement...and your damned ego whether you know it or not...just pissed off the wrong person and I’m comfortable doing the absolute darkest things I could conjure up in a wrestling ring to you when we meet face to face at last in Chicago, Illinois.
Just after this happens...I have one last question I’d ask of you before you resume your battle with Hunter.
The question is Mr. Riot...do you have it in your guts to admit that I am the better wrestler and the better man after I strip away your golden aura and expose you for what you truly are to everyone? Or are you going to be like Roger Wright and hide behind bravado that shouldn’t exist anymore after I finally took away something from him because of how he’s wronged me years ago?
Your fate has been sealed. Either you accept it and do something about it...or you can continue in that asylum playing into Hunter’s hands...wallowing in your own self pity.
It’s your choice. Either way...the worst qualities in you are revealed to the world. The qualities that have always been in the nature of all human beings.
And I’m the Agent of Truth...unleashing my own darkest qualities to force you and these people to accept them.
Then again, there’s always a vocal, sick minority who enjoys these things to a degree that even I can’t consider healthy. The ones who shout louder than anyone that they don’t care that an innocent man gets tortured with insects and waterboarded by our government. There’s even a different minority that just wants to cover things up and make sure nobody ever sees these horrible offenses. The problem is...by repressing the truth, the worst of it all, you provoke and stoke that dark side of the human mind all over again. Lust for crime or false patriotism can be that fuel in that heinous part of the brain. It’s part of those petty details that create these horrors.
Yet when these loudmouth fools see these same actions that they enabled for generations used against them...they have the temerity to decree that people like me...are what’s wrong with this world. These people are brazen enough to support any man who tolerates their heinous actions and support them by bribing them with money, support, cheers, or admiration that’s all false. They do it to the point where they’re willing to forgive any transgressions they might have caused either in the past or to other people as long as they’re performed against the people they loathe or can’t stand.
Welcome to America...land of the depraved and home of the gullible.
It’s a pattern of behavior that we never learn from...because we did it to the American Indians...atrocities to black men since before the existence of our country and hell even more modern egregious errors like our conduct in the Vietnam war by bombing innocent countries and use of...torture as well as this latest incursion into Iraq under the most retarded administration in modern history...and it’s set of abuses. Even now...when I bring these truths up...they’re just begging for their tainted heroes like Roger Wright or now Rob Riot to plunge me into the darkness to where I never can recover.
But it won’t happen...because they both reside there with me...whether they know it or not.
The list of Roger’s sins in the industry just in the span of this company’s history leads off a never ending list; the most recent one he committed well… it’s as incriminating and damning as anything you can do to another human being. Even if Blair deserves all the anguish and mockery for her tainting of every championship and humanity itself with her heinous existence...the child is probably scarred for life and it’s both their faults.
But alas...this week I’m facing a man whose name and sinfulness go in far too many fronts in Rob Riot. Another...god damn hero.
Another god damn golden boy…
I watched from afar when he swore to everyone that he would uphold the traditions of the World Title by being an upfront referee after Blair’s hideous stunt dented its prestige further. What I saw by just through his body language, the slower cadence and just inviting Hunter to do something because of his relationship with my former stablemate Valora and the laundry list of problems that he has with the myth killer. Never thought I’d see the day where I’d take Hunter’s side on an issue...but Riot hosed Hunter worse than what I did with Roger. Yet...where is the outcry from the masses? Where are HIS death threats?
Oh but they say he’s the GOOD guy...what a load of crap.
It’s a never ending cycle, really. These particular battles between the falsehoods that people love to live in and the bitter pill of the truth. Riot is another guy...everyone seems to love and they’re willing to excuse his conduct of being a biased, heinous official just because it was against a man that the world dislikes. Instead of learning from history...time and time again we see it one more time that they’re hiding behind the facade that is this great wrestler but horrible human being.
But credit where credit is due Riot...you are, like you have many times, pulling the wool over the eyes of the masses. You’re better than the Republicans in that respect...lying and manipulating with your words while your actions speak of something else and people still loving you and believing your propaganda. You might actually be better at that than you are at the sport of wrestling...and again from what I’ve seen from afar...there’s never been an issue with your ability as a wrestler.
But in your entire life...there isn’t another human being on the planet that’s like me. As Roger is finding out...I’m not a monster. No, I’m far worse than that label that’s been cast down upon me for years now. You know those lines of falsehood that are shining high and mighty right now? I’m the dark grain of truth mixed with the absolute worst parts of the human mind...and in just your couple months in this company Rob...I’m going to unleash all those qualities on you. It’s why they had given me the Deity of Destruction nickname for years not because it looks good on a t-shirt that most of these damn kids are worried about selling...I was given that nickname because of the brutality I bring to the ring.
But alas the Deity of Destruction is no more...but I’m something far worse than even a Deity, Rob.
I’m the absolute worst in humanity...thanks to people like you. And I’m going to torment you in that ring from the inside out…
The winds of Chicago always have the worst bite to them in the heart of winter. The Canadian air just swoops on down and that specific kind of chill rocks me on my permanently aching knees. A few flurries do find their way on the frigid ground. The other thing I’ve never missed about this god damn city is the smog and rudeness of their people. Most cities have that edge to them to begin with but there is a particular animosity toward outsiders in the city of Chicago. An animosity that Rob dealt with his first night in the company but is more forgiven for it than I ever will be considering our...stints in other companies and my previous run in New Edge.
“Selective…” I mutter, “People are selective and are selective about the wrong fucking things…”
With a sigh I glance over at my now decade old black silverado before shutting the driver’s side door on it. The building I’ve parked in front of is a brick business building though the sign in the front has been vandalized and Moretti, the lazy bastard, hasn’t put up a replacement yet. I’m guessing since he’s associated with me they’re getting at both me and him by vandalizing his business but...they really don’t know that sneaky bastard at all. I glance to my right and see all the other tall buildings mixed in with this and wonder if they were just having a pissing contest on which one is the biggest. A loud howl of wind interrupts my train of thought and my black hair goes in every direction because of it now.
“I really hate this fucking city.” I seethe, “Fuck the sporting teams, the people, the food, the specials. Everything.”
“Oh great…” I hear a female murmur.
“Pardon?” I raise my eyebrow at the direction of that voice.
The one glance in that direction is enough to get the female that had spoken up to begin to sweat. The same glance and glare that leads to far too many bad things that have ever happened in many people’s lives. She feels the weight of it and it takes several seconds to adjust and look me in the eyes. Even in the winter, her green eyes to shine through, and I glance at the small, slender brown haired lass and she is wearing a very respectable blue business suit designed for a female. She studies my own defensive posture.
“I take it you’re Seth. You match the description.” she coldly replies.
“There better be only one of me…” I roll my eyes, “God help the world if someone else matches my description.”
The woman frowns down at my sarcasm while another brush of wind goes on. She waves her finger and starts walking around toward the entrance of the building and with a shrug, I put my hands in my jacket pocket of my black and purple suit and follow her. The slush on the ground making my feet inside my dress shoes feel frigid. Even before walking on the broken sidewalk and glancing back around the city of Chicago...one look up in the sky and how black and ominous it is...something just feels very off. Something bad is about to happen...the way the wind is blowing.
I can feel it in my bones.
The young secretary leads me into the building and the giant blow of heat just sucker punches me and my entire body begins to perspire immediately. Once stepping through the second set of glass doors, I glance around at the base floor room where there are many cubicles with computers. I just raise my eyebrow a bit wondering what Moretti has done financially here but it does at the very least look efficient from a technological standpoint even if all the grey from the walls to the cubicles would drive any man insane.
“Could I at least get a name from you?” I inquire.
“Samantha…” she coldly replies.
“I’m guessing Moretti wants a word…” I mutter as we approach the center silver door that simply reads ‘Elevator’, “But he was mum about the details. Just texted me to be at this building.”
“Yes sir. He just said for me to come meet you at that location. He doesn’t give me very many specifics though…” her voice trails off, a layer of disgust evident.
“That isn’t a surprise…” I shrug as Samantha hits the up button, “You aren’t a boss unless you hide things from your employees after all.”
“Ugh. Tell me about it.” she replies with increasing disgust, “I don’t even want to think of what he’s doing in his office by himself with all those potential secrets.”
“We all have secrets, kid. I have some, Jesse Styles has his...and Rob Riot has them too. Things we don’t want many people to know. It’s how things are…some just accept certain people’s secrets easier than others.” I calmly answer as the elevator door opens and the two of us step inside, “But I have an inkling of what Vincent is doing and you probably DON’T want to be in the room while he’s performing said...activity.”
“Gross…” she shutters piecing it together without hesitation.
“That isn’t even top hundred of heinous things a man could keep secret.” I coldly reply while straightening my purple tie.
The poor lass continues to wince in absolute disgust at what Vincent could be doing as the elevator doors shut and we begin our ascent up this building. Her skin is going pale because she put too much thought into it but I’m just standing there with my arms crossed...pondering what kind of business Moretti could have with me today rather than his...extracurricular activities. Soon the elevator stops rising and we hear the ding as the silver doors move open but my train of thought is interrupted by a familiar shriek.
“WHAT THE HELL!? FUCK YOU INTERNET!” Moretti’s scream from his office is heard, “You ALWAYS have the worst god damned timing! I will rape your ancestors with a fucking battery for this shit!”
“God...dammit,” I manage to mutter before putting my hand over my forehead.
“Wha-what?” Samantha’s face starts to turn red.
“Kid, it’s everything you’re probably thinking and worse now…” I cringe, still facepalming, “I’d suggest you le--”
Before I can finish my sentence to this poor woman, the door to Moretti’s office down this narrow grey hallway opens and now she’s seeing things that she’ll probably be unable to unsee. The man’s silver hair is slicked back with his black coat and silver undershirt on but his pants are around his ankles and there’s some white...stains on his blue boxers. Moretti’s face is boiling angry and it is at that moment I realize he has a router in his right hand and...a golf club in his left hand. He’s so incensed that he still hasn’t noticed us yet as Sam cautiously steps out of the elevator and I follow suit with a little less tact.
“Every-fucking-time you freeze at the good part. Well NOT ANYMORE! FUCK YOU TECHNOLOGY! FUCK YOU IN YOUR ASS!” he shouts before slamming the router down on the hard floor.
The vein on Moretti’s forehead is exploding as he soon gets this devilish smirk etched on his face before he takes the golf club and smacks the defective router over the top and the plastic protective case begins to crack from it. A second mighty swing and the case starts to shatter and the plastic starts to go flying everywhere. The debris even scatters as far as my feet as now Moretti is smashing the soldiered up insides that made the router and the end result is that everything is exploded all over the floor.
“Got you now motherfucker! I win!” Moretti yells.
The crazed bastard soon puts the golf club between his legs, with his pants STILL at his ankles, and does a ridiculous dance around the shattered pieces of this destroyed router. He’s cackling with glee while I can see poor Samantha’s face grow into brighter shades of red. I just shrug my shoulders...this is a normal day in the office for Vincent in my mind. After a quick dance, he slams the golf club down like a football player spikes the ball after scoring a touchdown. He glances in satisfaction at this display; Moretti then peers over to find out that Sam and I had been watching this go down the entire time and his jaw just drops.
“Mothe---” Moretti pauses for a minute trying to choose his words wisely, “Sam! Can you clean this damn mess up from the floor?”
“Could you at least pull up your PANTS?” she replies with her sharp tongue in disgust.
“Oh…” Moretti peers down to realize he’s exposed himself, “Why didn’t you point this out sooner?”
“Because you’re a damn lunatic who had to break that poor router. What did that router do?” I interject.
“God dammit Seth.” Moretti growls, “It did EVERYTHING! It’s part of this shitty internet problem.”
“Is it like Atlantic Broadband?” I inquire.
“Those motherfuckers?” Vincent raises his eyebrows as he pulls his business pants up, “Shit, they try to institutionalize you and after they fail now they’re making internet? I’m afraid to see what quality of bullshit they try to interject for the consumer.”
“Can’t be worse than Roger or Rob Riot being painted by the audience as perfect...golden boys…” I seethe.
“I got my autograph signed by Rob Riot one time at a RSW event…” Sam quipes.
“Good for you.” I spit in disdain before turning toward Moretti, “Now about our business. Let’s go into your office. Now.”
Sam blinks twice at my hostile tone before she begins to do what Vincent commanded her to do as Moretti points at the door as he’s putting his belt on around his waist. We enter the wooden doors and I glance at his surprisingly organized office. There’s a desk with his name there on the front with a laptop at the center of the desk with a wire coming from it...I’m assuming the charger. Behind him is an open window to give him a look at what’s going on outside in this miserable fucking city. There’s even a stack of books on the wall to the right and a few office chairs there on some nice rug so they don’t go flying around. Vincent takes his seat in front of his desk as I take the chair right in front of him and I peer off to the right and I see multiple editions of playboy.
Some things just never change.
“I thought you’d be wearing your new mask,” Moretti quipes.
Moretti closes his laptop casually and puts his feet on his desk with an arrogant shit-eating grin on his face. He peers down at his desk while it seems like he’s scanning his eyeballs for something in particular. I glance inside my jacket and in one of the inside pockets is that black mask that Moretti is referencing. I can feel Moretti look back at me the moment I glanced at my own mask and I return the glance with a hardened glare of my own to see how serious he is about probing the issue.
“People might know my face but with this particular mask...it draws more unwanted attention to me in the public eye. I can hide in plain sight a little bit without it. I prefer my privacy. Always have.” I calmly answer.
“Makes it all the weirder that you’re in a public sport such as wrestling like I was as well…” Vincent shrugs before pulling out two yellow colored folders, “Then again...I would’ve thought you would’ve been stuck in an insane asylum before Rob Riot was.”
“Well…” I blink twice a little bit perplexed, “I thought he’d be out of there by now. Hunter put the screws to him that bad?”
“In a way New Edge kind of did do that. Look at his job at being a ref after all,” Moretti answers with a stern seriousness.
“Wasn’t as direct either...but you knew that something shady was going to happen in that situation. Just the fans were willing to forgive him since the shady happening ended up going against someone they hated. Another day in America.” I sneer in disgust, “Fuck this country.”
I dig my fingernails into the arm of the chair as my anger, often triggered by the hypocrisy that has always existed in this country, flares up once more. I can see Moretti hide the faintest of smiles at this sight before he jars his eyes at the first folder he’s picked up and nodding to himself. He glances back at me and I’m just staring at him impatiently just waiting for him to speak up in this cruel game of cat and mouse he has me playing right this minute. He’s always been like this whenever he wants a favor and he might hold something you want...even to his acquaintances.
“Well Seth…” Moretti pauses, “But let’s get to the reason why I wanted you here. There’s an issue with a man in this city...and I know you haven’t taken too many of these jobs over the last few years but considering how he’s screwed many people over yet is perceived as a good guy in this city. Sound familiar?”
“It’s a never ending trend. Doesn’t matter the spectrum…” I quietly reply.
“There’s two important folders here, Seth. The first one helps with this job should you accept it. The second...well it has a little bit of infomation you might want to know...though I can spill a nugget of it now if you do accept,” Moretti smirks.
“Let’s go into the specifics of the job first…” I calmly reply, “Then we’ll conclude with the nugget but should I accept this job Vincent...you and I both know that the higher the profile the more likely there’s back up so you’re coming with me.”
“Fair.” Moretti smiles, “Was hoping you’d say that. I could use some other way to blow off steam because the damn computer kept freezing on my me time personal relief…”
“Taking advantage of all the free porn Bobby Backdoor sent you?” I raise my eyebrow.
“Dude! Fuck you! No dick in male ass action! NO LIGHTSABER PENIS ACTION EITHER! Just vaginas for days!” Vincent defensively shrieks out.
“Whatever you say…” I needle before coughing under my breath, “Homophobe…”
“What the hell are you doing…” he questions as he notices my shift.
The streams of sweat start pulling down Vincent’s face as I stand up from my chair for a second. He looks at me nervously wondering what I might be doing as I calmly walk around the desk trying not to laugh at the sheer amount of panic that’s overtaken his face. He looks like he’s about to scream out no but before he can even blurt the word out I just shoot the nastiest glare I can muster up and he pipes back down. Finally I just open the laptop and to absolutely no surprise...I find out exactly what he was doing.
“Huh…” I pause looking at the two females with their fake snavences out for the world to see and an adult toy between their private parts, “What do you know…you learn something new everyday.”
“That’s...enough of that,” Moretti slams the laptop down while wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Talk about wholesome entertainment but who am I to talk after the now former world champion did the most vile and disrespectful thing this industry has ever seen…” I reply with a contorted frown.
“I was never into cumswapping porn but that’s besides the point...and we’re deviating way too much…” Moretti fidgets in embarrassment, “God dammit Seth.”
Knowing that I got what I wanted out of my long time associate I can’t even hide the smirk on my face anymore as I calmly walk around the desk and resume my seat calmly glancing at Moretti who is far from happy with me after this display. He takes a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself after the brief embarrassment before he forcefully slides the first folder in my direction across the desk. He straightens his crooked black tie finally before taking one last deep breath and his eyes soon turn very cold.
“His name is Thomas Stevenson as you’ll find out on the file. He frequents many of the strip clubs despite being a supposedly happily married man. He’s ripped off many people including a couple of my employees and me indirectly with the scam of charity work for the sake of his religion but he’s been pocketing the money for himself,” Vincent begins.
“Oh son of a bitch…” I mouth in disgust, “They’re appearing everywhere again…the levels of hypocrisy they do because they hid behind religion...it’s way too damn similar to how many of the wrestlers act when they have the support of these stupid sheep. People don’t learn their history...ever.”
“It’s worse than you think…” Moretti continues, “He’s even been at many events damning us for how we have sexual intercourse but then goes out and has happy endings at strip clubs with women who are not his wife. So...the idea here is to either make him pay up financially or to end him. We’re trying to get our money back first...but if that isn’t successful we’ll have to do some Family styled dirty work. We do this and not only do you get your extra information but you’ll also be paid accordingly. I know your daughter would appreciate the extra funds.”
“Well…” I reply with a particularly scary smile etched on my face as I grab the folder with my right hand, “The decision’s an easy one now. It may take a couple of days but let’s take care of this, shall we?”
“Good.” Moretti beams, “And since you agreed...I’ll hold up to my end of the bargain.”
“That’s a rarity…” I bark up a laugh.
“Dude really? I’m not THAT bad” he rolls his eyes before he glances at me with a more...solemn expression, “To be serious though Seth...what I do know is your former stablemate Valora and Rob Riot have some sort of connection now.”
“What?” I raise my eyebrow.
“It might be part of why the people are also more positive to Valora but...I’m sure as you’ve seen from afar...she’s changed. I think Rob has quite a bit to do with that.”
“Well shit…” I sigh before reaching into my jacket to pull out my mask, “I’ll digest this more in the car. There’s too much work to be done now.”
“Aye…” Moretti replies before he leads me out the door.
With that thought now I’m picturing in my brain that some sort of vile assault on Rob now might bring on the rampage of an angry Latina Woman who literally is content at times to die in that ring for her sins. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it as I calmly put the mask on about ready to carry on my next job. Even knowing that small tidbit...and the new wave of enemies it would make me in this current climate...it doesn’t matter. I’m used to fighting everyone at the same time...with the barrel of a gun pointed at my skull.
And I don’t think Rob Riot quite knows that experience...that sobering reality that one mistake could end you.
I took my chances with Roger Wright at Tension in Texas and even with Blair’s hideous actions tainting the championship...it’s an action I don’t regret nor one I could take back. I made my bed. Revived the fervor in old enemies and created a whole list of new ones. But this is the nature of the beast if you have any microcosm of success...someone’ll always be pissed off and want to take you out for it.
And just as much as people do that to me...I want to do the same to Rob Riot just so he can finally experience failure.
I’d wager that he’s in the asylum partly because of the heinous things that have happened but also partly because his ego is so enormous that he can’t handle that things are going his way exactly and the red carpet hasn’t been rolled out for him just because of his illustrious success everywhere he’s ever been. I’m sure he’s used to the envy in other people when he walks by with his laundry list of accomplishments...but he’s about to step in the ring with the one guy who always DOES something about the things he envies and does whatever it takes...to get the job done.
I’d be lying if I said that a part of me doesn’t enjoy...seeing how you’re starting to squirm in a situation you’re not quite used to. The worst of your own being is coming out...the fear, the paranoia and the longing for what it should be when a man of your caliber comes to a wrestling promotion like New Edge. Just your false sense of entitlement...and your damned ego whether you know it or not...just pissed off the wrong person and I’m comfortable doing the absolute darkest things I could conjure up in a wrestling ring to you when we meet face to face at last in Chicago, Illinois.
Just after this happens...I have one last question I’d ask of you before you resume your battle with Hunter.
The question is Mr. Riot...do you have it in your guts to admit that I am the better wrestler and the better man after I strip away your golden aura and expose you for what you truly are to everyone? Or are you going to be like Roger Wright and hide behind bravado that shouldn’t exist anymore after I finally took away something from him because of how he’s wronged me years ago?
Your fate has been sealed. Either you accept it and do something about it...or you can continue in that asylum playing into Hunter’s hands...wallowing in your own self pity.
It’s your choice. Either way...the worst qualities in you are revealed to the world. The qualities that have always been in the nature of all human beings.
And I’m the Agent of Truth...unleashing my own darkest qualities to force you and these people to accept them.