Post by Deleted on Apr 5, 2013 21:48:32 GMT -6
The common theme that each of the people who will step into the demonic structure called Terror Dome has is that each of them claim no redeeming value for a particular participant in the match. The word asshole is the common thread among them all. That is a valid definition of what life in the public eye has become. Each of those people has reason to wish for an untimely demise. Unfortunately for them only the good die young and good in not something used to describe the man they loathe with a passion.
Waiting has been the procession of life in the spotlight. Nothing ever comes to a man of my attitude unless that man is both passionate about what he does for a living and also he must be a man of patience. That was something instilled into the body of a young boy at an early age. Nothing was ever worth having unless it is earned. This is something the men and women who will share a cage full of weapons have never grasped. This reality separates the so called asshole from those wishing to make that asshole cease to function under the weight of barbed wire.
Finally the men are arriving here but they are interrupted by the sounds emanating from a cell phone located in the front pocket of worn jeans. When a person works on a home he does not wear his best duds. This is exactly what was going to happen as the men were arriving and plans had been made with the home that served as a classroom. The area code was 775. This was the area code of a hometown in Rural Nevada long since forgotten by the aggressive nature of my behavior. No one ever called from there and damned sure none of them wishes to speak to a prick.
“What the fuck is this shit?”
The waiting for the voice on the other end found a familiar voice that made a person’s skin crawl with insincerity. It was the Aunt who had disparaged a name and disowned her own flesh and blood for crimes yet unknown to her. She was a large woman with a large voice. It has escaped reality how fat women always tend to be the loudest. One would think if they looked like that they would be quiet so people would not see their grotesque cellulite coming from their fat asses.
“How fucking dare you say I do not give a shit about my own mother. If you have no damned clue about the crap you are speaking then by all means shut the fuck up.”
The woman always looked down on the sport of professional wrestling and especially a nephew who chose that as his vocation. She felt she was always better than the rest of the family and for that she came close on several occasions to getting a boot up her ass. The loving mother was always the peacemaker in such situations. She always had a way of calming down the pure rage of a son who only desired to protect the one who gave birth to him. This protection was often shunned when her desire to give of her resources charitably conflicted with her duty in raising a son.
“What did you just say?”
The fat woman on the other end of the phone was damned near in tears. Normally this would be a great day in the life of a true asshole but the news she bore was of a heartbreaking nature. She was forced to speak to me on the hospitalization of the mother that gave everything to a son. She was the only woman that would be truly worthy of the sacrifice that was about to take place.
“What the fuck? Okay calm your shit bitch. I am heading to the airport right now and somehow Jesse will just have to understand.”
Of course this aunt understood the man whose name was just uttered. She knew that a life spent in devotion to something was far beyond her shallow grasp. She did not understand words like sacrifice and justice. She had no idea what these words meant or more precisely what they meant to a wayward nephew. The fact of the matter is none of the people who will share a ring with me in the coming days will understand that either. They have never had to sacrifice for the better of the New Edge Wrestling company.
Without uttering a single word the men showing up were left on their own. There was no time to instruct them on their daily routine. The more important matter is trying to calm a mother’s nerves as she is going through a disease racking through her body. This is something that is well known to me since the five who will share the ring carry diseases. Those men and women have also sinned against a creation formed on the blood and sweat of great men.
The drive to the airport in a black rental truck went like a blur of emotions. If only these people knew the pain that racked through the body of a man once called soulless. The ring has caused its share of turmoil to a mortal core that has long since been ignored. This pain was something more than any human should be allowed to shoulder. The word was stupidity had caused the mother to be in great pain. This person was the one person that life would be gladly forfeited for to make her life better. It appears the weakness of the man that many though had no heart has been revealed. The man they hate is a mamma’s boy.
It was a daze that occupied my mind as the ticket was purchased with minimal fuss. The flight would take a couple of hours and there would not be a thought rolling through the head of a barbarian that was not about this mother who occupies his very soul. The very thought of mortality was running through his mind.
As the man boarded he wondered if he were to perish on this flight if anyone would attend the upcoming funeral. It had been made apparent on several occasions that the family who once honored him would have nothing to do with him even in death. So there would only be a loving mother in attendance. Would anyone else attend it? Would his colleagues give a damned if death or life was the choice? It was a morality play in the mind of the heartless and soulless killing machine making his way to his seat. The answer was no and that knowledge played on the mind of the future World Champion.
The announcement has been made for takeoff as he sat up in his seat hoping for the plane to burn in flames so he would not have to face his rage any further. That split second when the plane took off he knew the chance was lost. No longer would he wish for death to take him naturally. Death had come calling on the doorstep but it was for the one he cared about the most rather than himself. If there was a choice places would be exchanged and it would be the uncaring man in the bed ready for death to take him.
Why is it that the most irritating fucking person on the face of the Earth always must be seated next to you on the plane? Is this God’s way of punishing the wayward son? Who the fuck made the rule that it was okay to speak to the person next to you? It happens nowhere else on Earth other than on a fucking airplane. The dude next to you in the urinal does not chit chat. The jackoff sitting next to you at a restaurant knows better. Somehow it is societally correct to chit chat with the dude next to you that simply wants you to shut the fuck up.
Of course luck being as it has been since the beginning fate said that the person seated to the right had to be a grandmother with pictures. This it was going to be worse than torture the sons of man had devised in all of their lives. The feeling was that of a criminal on death row waiting for the chair. He knew that shit was coming and the waiting was what was killing him more than facing the music. She finally broke the silence. It was like a courtesy fart that almost hurt coming out but had to be passed.
“Young man would you like to see picture of my grandchildren.”
“Fuck no!”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t smell shit lady. Look I am off to Nevada for personal business. I know there is certain etiquette on flight but let’s flush that shit down the toilet. First of all the last God Damned thing I want to do is look at your ugly offspring. I mean those kids are most likely not as ugly as Omega’s kid but then what could be uglier than someone that came from that second class loser? I could give a shit less about your story or why you are on this fucking plane. So do me and the world a favor and shut the fuck up like Slater should have done a long ass time ago.”
“Why I never!”
“With a face like that it is not hard to believe. Now shut your damned mouth while I make a call I really do not wish to make.”
Reaching into the pocket of the same faded jeans as before the phone is pulled out to be used for an undesirable task. The last duty desired was to call this man and tell him of the news. It was a surety he would understand after the turmoil of his personal life but he damned sure would not be happy about it. It had to be done soon or passengers could not use electronic equipment. Is that supposed to ease the fear of flying? This bucket of bolts is so shitty that it could go down if a mother fucker decided to use a damned cell phone?
Okay there are few things a man in my position is afraid of. Wars have been fought in the ring and buckets upon buckets of blood have been spilt in the name of greed. But my fear is of flying for some unknown reason. In time it became livable but it was nothing to be anticipated. Flying to Japan was going to be hell if that trip ever took place.
“Yeah what’s up?”
It was my best friend in the world on the other end of the line. He was the only one who truly understood my passion and love for the NEW. In the life of an asshole, only one man could understand the reasoning behind all of that. In him a brother was found that was never to have existed. This is the reason Domestik Disturbance is the greatest tag team to ever live. It is not my weakness as Omega pointed out this week but my strength to continue in a world that would rather see me perish.
“Look bro I might not be making it to Japan. I found out that my mother is in the hospital and it might be fatal. She was in a car wreck that my dumb cunt of an aunt got her into. So I am on my way back to Nevada. Jesse is just going to have to understand.”
“So why the phuck are you calling me? Didn’t have the balls to call Jesse yourself?”
“Kinda.”
“What?”
“You know how Jesse is. You have known him for a long time. Could you explain it to him and see if I can give you my spot in Terror Dome. A man with your talent should have won that fucking thing already.”
“You would give me your spot to go for the world title?”
“J. I know you were left for dead in that orphanage but you do have family brah. That family is fuggin me. I would love nothing more to see you win that shit and take it home. It is not like there is anyone worth a shit in that match. We all know you can cripple Omega without thinking about it.”
“That is true.”
“And you took that shovel to the shoulder of that crying pussy Matt Slater. And who is better at beating up women than you? You get two in one shot.”
“Jesse would kill me if I fucked up his old lady. Valora I don’t mind beating the hell out of. That was what worried me was that you would go too far like you tend to do and fuck his wife up.”
“If she is more worried about being a dancing fool than winning Terror Dome then she does not need to be in the match. I know you would love to kick Patrick Jones’ ass.”
“I might break a sweat if I did that. Seriously bro it is your time. Get your shit handled and head to Japan and win that fucking thing. You just beat the phucking world champion. No one in this match can touch you.”
“I don’t know if I can with my mother. She is the only person worthy of sacrificing the main event at Justice for. I know you do not know your parents but my mother loves you to death for some unknown reason. Maybe she wants to mother you.”
“Your mom is awesome brah. She made me eat that one time. Do you know how phucking stoned I was?’
“Yup I did. Now I gotta get off of here and decide how the fuck I am going to handle this shit. Handle Jesse and I will see what I can do. I can be there for eight hours before I gotta go. Maybe all will be fine but if I cannot make it I want you to have my spot.”
“That is the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Later mi amigo.”
“Later dood!”
Okay it is fine for you to say it. The man who has all of the balls in the world pussed out in talking to his boss. Jesse is not a nice man from time to time. Of course, a lot of that has to do with me giving him shit all the time but still. The phone was vibrating and the one thing that shook the confidence of men like PT Merciless and Josh Cole was happening. The simple wording Styles on my phone told me all that needed to be said. That was quick. The phone has just been hung up with Johnny seconds before.
“FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!”
“Calm down Jess.”
“FUCK CALM! YOUR ASS FINALLY GETS INTO TERRORDOME AND NOW YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BE THERE? FUCK YOU FOR WANTING JOHNNY TO TAKE YOUR PLACE! GET YOU ASS TO JAPAN NOW!!!!!!”
“I got business to handle. My mother was in a bad car crash caused by my dipshit aunt. She might not live. So I am going to see how it is and then I am flying to Japan if it is allowable. If it is not I will not be there. That is all.”
“FUCK YOU THAT IS ALL! I WILL TELL YOU WHEN THAT IS ALL! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCK UP MY MAIN EVENT! GET YOUR ASS ON THAT PLANE OR YOU ARE FIRED.”
“Do what you gotta do. By the way did you happen to catch who is on Dancing with the Stars this year?”
“FUCKING PRICK! I SWEAR TO GOD SAY NOTHING IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS FUCKING GOOD FOR YOU!”
“Don’t worry Jesse. I am sure that way that wife of yours was flirting with her damned dance partner she is not going to be ballroom dancing but dancing all over that dude’s ball room. Is his name Inkt?”
“MOTHER FUCKER! NOW YOU WENT AND PISSED ME OFF!”
“So take it out on Peyton Manning.”
“YOU BET YOU FUCKING ASS I WILL. GET YOUR ASS HERE BITCH! AND FUCK YOU FOR THE INKT REFERENCE!”
Well that went better than expected as the red button is depressed. The woman heard all of the commotion from the last two calls and decided it was best to shut her damned mouth. Being the biggest prick on Earth has its advantages. That was the reason the conscious effort was made to be the prick that became so natural to me.
How can a person focus on some match in Japan when his mother is in the hospital? Honestly it did not matter even if Jesse did fire me. Some things are worth the sacrifice. By the time my ass got to Japan if that was even possible, the jet lag would fuck me up because my arrival would probably be match day. How does one compete with five world class athletes when the body was not in peak condition? Not to mention the fact that all of those assholes were gunning for the biggest dick on the planet. They tend to do that to the biggest threat in the match.
Sleep soon overtook me as the emotional strain on my body was too much to bear. My final thoughts and sounds were that of my nosey neighbor talking to some unsuspecting passenger about her ugly ass grand kids. Poor schumck.
My sleep was interrupted by the announcement of the impending arrival in Elko Nevada. It was a rural town in North Eastern Nevada that was famous for its rapid growth and having two of the top four gold mines in the world. That little shithole produced more gold than any country in the world. The sleep town would soon be famous for another reason. Its favorite son was coming home. Okay so favorite was not exactly accurate. They hate me more than anywhere else in the world.
There was not ticker tape parade for my arrival. No signs were being held for the famous conqueror coming home because the reality is that nothing had been conquered. Each time it appeared as if that final hump was being approached a stumble always occurred. The match was always great because that is what the fuck I do but in the end it was never enough.
The walk from the plane allowed me to reflect on the failure so many people have seen live and in person. How did a man of my talents lose to a schmuck like Inkt? Granted my best friend and brother pinned me but how did we lose that match? A text message was coming across. It read…
“ASSHOLE! CHAUFFEUR DRIVEN CAR AT THE AIRPORT. I KNOW YOU HAVE NO LISCENSE. SUCK DICK.”
Jesse was always a class owner. He even texts angry. Even when he was in the middle of being pissed off at me he made sure I was taken care of. This is why he is still in business while others are working at a fuggin soup kitchen. The man was standing beside the black SUV waiting to take me to my mother’s bedside.
“Hunter Valentyne?”
“Black dood?”
“Come on brah! That was really uncalled for!”
“Are you black?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a dood?”
“Yes.”
“Then shut the fuck up. Drive me away jackass.”
“Do you not even want to know my name?”
“Listen up gochese. I do not care about your family or who the fuck you are. I do not care what you name is or anything about you. Just shut your God Damned mouth and drive me to the fugging hospital.”
“Touchy! Fine my name is Jay Andrews. My cousin is a good friend of yours. He is Ray Andrews. I believe he is in the Styles Mafia.”
“Black chauffeur? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“No more so than a good guy Brit or a Mexican that drinks tequila.”
“Touche!”
The man opens the door for me as he looks down at me for my worn jeans that were to be worn on another job. Damn that shit coulda been great. We had spray painted the rooms of the Hall of Fame. But in reality that had been taken care of with the dood who owned the shit hole apartment that my ex-wife’s name was on. Now it was on to the hospital and a confrontation with my cunt of an aunt.
He drops me off at the front door of the hospital as he drives away in a hurry. He might have been in a hurry but my ass damned sure was not. It was almost like the walk of doom as my ass entered the hospital and the woman at the entrance desk. Her frown told me she recognized me.
“Ronnie!”
“Awwww fuck!”
“Ronnie is that you? You remember Lizzy don’t you?”
“How could I forget her? I stuck it in her ass on prom night. Damn near needed a shoe horn to get in but I got her done.”
“Wait you are the one?”
“Yup!”
‘What the hell are you doing here. Ronnie?”
“Get this straight bitch! My name is Hunter Valentyne. I am here to see my God Damned mother so quit with the small talk. What fucking room before I go Al Envy and fuck you too.”
“What’s her name?”
“Patricia Hunt.”
“She is in ICU.”
“I see you too bitch. Now where the fuck is she?”
“Three floors up. Check in at the desk.”
The word disease was uttered before but that disease is stupidity. It was the stupidity of my aunt that landed my mother here. It is also the disease shared by Valora Salinas. How can she utter that Hunter Valentyne is a selfish asshole and expect me to watch her fucking match after mine is done. Honestly Pugh beat Valora, Valora beat Pugh. Does anyone really give a shit? I know the fans didn’t.
The elevator ascends to its destination as the ride is a touch bumpy. Finally we are there as my aunt is pacing the floor waiting for someone other than me to walk in the room. This is the feeling I get so often because no one in the NEW wants me there and they damned sure do not want me to succeed. Pissing people off and making their worst nightmares come true has become a specialty of mine. Can you imagine the bitching when I win the World Title? That will be something to behold of that I am sure.
“So the prodigal son finally made it home. Nice of you to show up before she is dead.”
“If she died it is because you fucking killed her worse than Valora murders World Title matches. OR Matt Slater kills a push. Or Scarlet kills an Inkt Erection. Or Patrick Jones kills interest.”
“Are you still doing that fake wrestling crap? You cannot even let that shit slide when your mother is fighting for her life?”
“FUCK YOU! I am here and sacrificed a big deal in my career. Now some idiot like Matt Slater is going to win that fucking thing and life as we know it will be dead. Imagine Matt Slater choking again at Terror Dome. They might never hold the fucking thing if that happens. Where is she?”
“When did you start caring. This family needed you…”
“This family needed me like Valora needs another unearned title shot. My mother needs me and that is the point you are missing. This family can kiss my mother fucking ass. My mother is all that matters not some posers who think they are better than us. You think because your sons are doing well that you are better than my mother. That is like Scarlet Styles thinking she belongs in this match because she is married to a legend like Jesse. You logic sucks just as hers does.”
“Your mother is family.”
“My mother is the only family I have other than Johnny and Jesse.”
“Your wrestling friends? How cute.”
“They have always been there for me even when I screwed up. They supported me even when they knew I was wrong. They had my back even when they knew my imperfections. Johnny and Jesse are more of a family than you and your bastard kids ever will be.”
“My children are a success in life. They have a family and good jobs. Eddie owns his own machine shop. Jeffrey works for the mines and makes big time money. They see their kids every night. When was the last time you saw your son?”
“Just because you despise my line of work does not mean I am not a success. I make more than both those little bastards put together. Sure I do not see my son but that is because I am always on the road doing what I love to do. Ask them! Ask them if they love what they do and they will tell you no. I would do this shit for free if it were a necessity. I pulled up in a limo. What the fuck did you pull up in? The caddy your bitch kids bought you because you are a fucking leetch? Okay Patrick Jones say something.”
“How dare you speak to me like that for all I have done?”
“You drove the car that put my mother in the hospital because you are a fucking selfish bitch just like Valora Salinas. You only care for yourself and not how your actions affect others. You want to blame me for your every problem when in reality you were the one that failed. You do not even have the guts to earn what you desire. You let your kids hand you the things of the world you want rather than get on it and earn them through hard work and labor. How does it feel to cash in on the sweat of others who are better than you?”
“I already disowned you.”
“Then you can suck my fucking dick. Why should I care about you if you disowned me? That is like Valora telling me she is going to give me a world title match when she has never won the fucking thing. Your money is tainted and I would want no part of it anyways. NOW FUCK OFF!”
The nurse comes out of the room to see damned near World War Three in the waiting room. She walks up to me with a smile on her angelic face. If this were another situation I would totally think about fucking her but my mother is in there. My aunt is pushing her way to the front to see me but unfortunately for her my elbows are sharp.
“Sir you can see her now.”
“Ronnie, I am going in there.”
“Aunt Julie, if you go in there I will slit your God Damned throat. I swear to God I will.”
The nurse leads me off to the room as my Aunt glares at me like I am the damned devil. Most people think that is the case so why not go with it? The room is opened to see my mother lying on the bed resting somewhat comfortably. Suddenly all of the anger from speaking to my aunt was gone and a drop to my knees to see my mother who gave me everything from the time of my birth. She was both father and mother. Both confidant and friend. Losing her right now was not a possibility. There was so much to be said. So much had been left unsaid. There was guilt on my part for not spending as much time speaking to her as could have been.
“Mom, are you okay?”
She was still groggy from the pain medication ad her voice was weak but that sparkle in her eye still remained intact. In an instant I was turned back into that little boy at his mother’s side. She stirred and grabbed for the pitcher of water beside her bed. In great haste a reach was made for the pitcher; its content poured into a clear plastic glass. She took a long painful drink before speaking to me in a bone weary voice.
“Baby, what are you doing here? You have a match to get ready for in Japan. You need to bring that home for the family.”
“What family? I will do it for you if you ask me to but do not ask me to do a fucking thing for that bitch in the waiting room.”
“Do not speak like that, Ron.”
“Ron is dead. I am Hunter now.”
“The baby boy that I raised is not the man I see on the television. Where does all of that anger and rage come from?”
“You know damned good and well where it comes from, Mother.”
“You were angry when people used me. You saw the people of the church use me and you saw it as weakness on my part. You saw your aunt use me and it angered you. It is time to let it go. It is time for my little boy to come home.”
“NEVER!”
“Ron, do not be angry for you are with me. Now go win that match. I have followed everything you do as I did in Little League when you struck out. In time you become the best because failure drove you to succeed. You made All Stars your last year because you refused to fail. It will happen again, my son.”
“Each time the spotlight is on high, I fall short. It happened with Dave McDave. It happened with Roger Wright. It happened with my brother Johnny. I don’t know if I can win. I wish I could say that I could but history is not on my side. I will put up one hell of a fight but in the end is it going to happen the same way as before?”
“I believe in you, honey.”
“Everyone hates me and I am fine with that. I am not the same little boy you raised. I am more jaded than ever. I see people not working to earn their keep but to have it handed to them because they think they deserve it. Each person in that damned Terror Dome has been handed something in one way or another. Valara and her failure title shots. Scarlet because she is married to Jesse. Patrick because he leeches off of Drake. Matt because he once was a name in this business. Omega is the only one to not be handed something. I will be damned if any of them is winning Terror Dome.”
“Take it. It is your time. You defeated the champion last week.”
“IS this another failure?”
“No this is where you take your failures and turn them into success. This is little league all over again, son.”
She appears to be weaker from the conversation as she turns her head to the side. With a shake she is not stirring bit. My hands keep trembling as her body is not moving. What the hell? Did she just really die speaking to me? This shit sucks as tears fill my eyes.
“Mom, don’t you fucking leave me!”
No words were stirring her as grief was overcoming me. There was nothing to console me over this loss. Nothing could happen in Terror Dome that would hurt me like this did. The one person who was always there for me was lost. Through tear filled eyes my final pleas were to be fallen on deaf ears.
“God Damn it! Fuck those idiots in Japan. Their asses belong to me!”
With a storm my ass is out the door and heading downstairs. This one would be won for my mother. She was the one person who always was there for me and I did nothing to serve her. If anything my anger drove her crazy. There must have been times when she was ashamed of me but never told me so. The door is swung open as Jay is standing in front of the car.
“How did it go?”
“Fuck off and take me to the fucking airport.”
It was off to Japan for me and foes to conquer. Back in the hospital room my mother rose from her bed as she motivated me to do something that normally I could never have done. Usually my ass would cause as much grief as possible but she gave me the cause to fight for. With a twinkle in her eye she had the last word.
“My son is not the only one who knows this game. Good luck little boy.”
Waiting has been the procession of life in the spotlight. Nothing ever comes to a man of my attitude unless that man is both passionate about what he does for a living and also he must be a man of patience. That was something instilled into the body of a young boy at an early age. Nothing was ever worth having unless it is earned. This is something the men and women who will share a cage full of weapons have never grasped. This reality separates the so called asshole from those wishing to make that asshole cease to function under the weight of barbed wire.
Finally the men are arriving here but they are interrupted by the sounds emanating from a cell phone located in the front pocket of worn jeans. When a person works on a home he does not wear his best duds. This is exactly what was going to happen as the men were arriving and plans had been made with the home that served as a classroom. The area code was 775. This was the area code of a hometown in Rural Nevada long since forgotten by the aggressive nature of my behavior. No one ever called from there and damned sure none of them wishes to speak to a prick.
“What the fuck is this shit?”
The waiting for the voice on the other end found a familiar voice that made a person’s skin crawl with insincerity. It was the Aunt who had disparaged a name and disowned her own flesh and blood for crimes yet unknown to her. She was a large woman with a large voice. It has escaped reality how fat women always tend to be the loudest. One would think if they looked like that they would be quiet so people would not see their grotesque cellulite coming from their fat asses.
“How fucking dare you say I do not give a shit about my own mother. If you have no damned clue about the crap you are speaking then by all means shut the fuck up.”
The woman always looked down on the sport of professional wrestling and especially a nephew who chose that as his vocation. She felt she was always better than the rest of the family and for that she came close on several occasions to getting a boot up her ass. The loving mother was always the peacemaker in such situations. She always had a way of calming down the pure rage of a son who only desired to protect the one who gave birth to him. This protection was often shunned when her desire to give of her resources charitably conflicted with her duty in raising a son.
“What did you just say?”
The fat woman on the other end of the phone was damned near in tears. Normally this would be a great day in the life of a true asshole but the news she bore was of a heartbreaking nature. She was forced to speak to me on the hospitalization of the mother that gave everything to a son. She was the only woman that would be truly worthy of the sacrifice that was about to take place.
“What the fuck? Okay calm your shit bitch. I am heading to the airport right now and somehow Jesse will just have to understand.”
Of course this aunt understood the man whose name was just uttered. She knew that a life spent in devotion to something was far beyond her shallow grasp. She did not understand words like sacrifice and justice. She had no idea what these words meant or more precisely what they meant to a wayward nephew. The fact of the matter is none of the people who will share a ring with me in the coming days will understand that either. They have never had to sacrifice for the better of the New Edge Wrestling company.
Without uttering a single word the men showing up were left on their own. There was no time to instruct them on their daily routine. The more important matter is trying to calm a mother’s nerves as she is going through a disease racking through her body. This is something that is well known to me since the five who will share the ring carry diseases. Those men and women have also sinned against a creation formed on the blood and sweat of great men.
The drive to the airport in a black rental truck went like a blur of emotions. If only these people knew the pain that racked through the body of a man once called soulless. The ring has caused its share of turmoil to a mortal core that has long since been ignored. This pain was something more than any human should be allowed to shoulder. The word was stupidity had caused the mother to be in great pain. This person was the one person that life would be gladly forfeited for to make her life better. It appears the weakness of the man that many though had no heart has been revealed. The man they hate is a mamma’s boy.
It was a daze that occupied my mind as the ticket was purchased with minimal fuss. The flight would take a couple of hours and there would not be a thought rolling through the head of a barbarian that was not about this mother who occupies his very soul. The very thought of mortality was running through his mind.
As the man boarded he wondered if he were to perish on this flight if anyone would attend the upcoming funeral. It had been made apparent on several occasions that the family who once honored him would have nothing to do with him even in death. So there would only be a loving mother in attendance. Would anyone else attend it? Would his colleagues give a damned if death or life was the choice? It was a morality play in the mind of the heartless and soulless killing machine making his way to his seat. The answer was no and that knowledge played on the mind of the future World Champion.
The announcement has been made for takeoff as he sat up in his seat hoping for the plane to burn in flames so he would not have to face his rage any further. That split second when the plane took off he knew the chance was lost. No longer would he wish for death to take him naturally. Death had come calling on the doorstep but it was for the one he cared about the most rather than himself. If there was a choice places would be exchanged and it would be the uncaring man in the bed ready for death to take him.
Why is it that the most irritating fucking person on the face of the Earth always must be seated next to you on the plane? Is this God’s way of punishing the wayward son? Who the fuck made the rule that it was okay to speak to the person next to you? It happens nowhere else on Earth other than on a fucking airplane. The dude next to you in the urinal does not chit chat. The jackoff sitting next to you at a restaurant knows better. Somehow it is societally correct to chit chat with the dude next to you that simply wants you to shut the fuck up.
Of course luck being as it has been since the beginning fate said that the person seated to the right had to be a grandmother with pictures. This it was going to be worse than torture the sons of man had devised in all of their lives. The feeling was that of a criminal on death row waiting for the chair. He knew that shit was coming and the waiting was what was killing him more than facing the music. She finally broke the silence. It was like a courtesy fart that almost hurt coming out but had to be passed.
“Young man would you like to see picture of my grandchildren.”
“Fuck no!”
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t smell shit lady. Look I am off to Nevada for personal business. I know there is certain etiquette on flight but let’s flush that shit down the toilet. First of all the last God Damned thing I want to do is look at your ugly offspring. I mean those kids are most likely not as ugly as Omega’s kid but then what could be uglier than someone that came from that second class loser? I could give a shit less about your story or why you are on this fucking plane. So do me and the world a favor and shut the fuck up like Slater should have done a long ass time ago.”
“Why I never!”
“With a face like that it is not hard to believe. Now shut your damned mouth while I make a call I really do not wish to make.”
Reaching into the pocket of the same faded jeans as before the phone is pulled out to be used for an undesirable task. The last duty desired was to call this man and tell him of the news. It was a surety he would understand after the turmoil of his personal life but he damned sure would not be happy about it. It had to be done soon or passengers could not use electronic equipment. Is that supposed to ease the fear of flying? This bucket of bolts is so shitty that it could go down if a mother fucker decided to use a damned cell phone?
Okay there are few things a man in my position is afraid of. Wars have been fought in the ring and buckets upon buckets of blood have been spilt in the name of greed. But my fear is of flying for some unknown reason. In time it became livable but it was nothing to be anticipated. Flying to Japan was going to be hell if that trip ever took place.
“Yeah what’s up?”
It was my best friend in the world on the other end of the line. He was the only one who truly understood my passion and love for the NEW. In the life of an asshole, only one man could understand the reasoning behind all of that. In him a brother was found that was never to have existed. This is the reason Domestik Disturbance is the greatest tag team to ever live. It is not my weakness as Omega pointed out this week but my strength to continue in a world that would rather see me perish.
“Look bro I might not be making it to Japan. I found out that my mother is in the hospital and it might be fatal. She was in a car wreck that my dumb cunt of an aunt got her into. So I am on my way back to Nevada. Jesse is just going to have to understand.”
“So why the phuck are you calling me? Didn’t have the balls to call Jesse yourself?”
“Kinda.”
“What?”
“You know how Jesse is. You have known him for a long time. Could you explain it to him and see if I can give you my spot in Terror Dome. A man with your talent should have won that fucking thing already.”
“You would give me your spot to go for the world title?”
“J. I know you were left for dead in that orphanage but you do have family brah. That family is fuggin me. I would love nothing more to see you win that shit and take it home. It is not like there is anyone worth a shit in that match. We all know you can cripple Omega without thinking about it.”
“That is true.”
“And you took that shovel to the shoulder of that crying pussy Matt Slater. And who is better at beating up women than you? You get two in one shot.”
“Jesse would kill me if I fucked up his old lady. Valora I don’t mind beating the hell out of. That was what worried me was that you would go too far like you tend to do and fuck his wife up.”
“If she is more worried about being a dancing fool than winning Terror Dome then she does not need to be in the match. I know you would love to kick Patrick Jones’ ass.”
“I might break a sweat if I did that. Seriously bro it is your time. Get your shit handled and head to Japan and win that fucking thing. You just beat the phucking world champion. No one in this match can touch you.”
“I don’t know if I can with my mother. She is the only person worthy of sacrificing the main event at Justice for. I know you do not know your parents but my mother loves you to death for some unknown reason. Maybe she wants to mother you.”
“Your mom is awesome brah. She made me eat that one time. Do you know how phucking stoned I was?’
“Yup I did. Now I gotta get off of here and decide how the fuck I am going to handle this shit. Handle Jesse and I will see what I can do. I can be there for eight hours before I gotta go. Maybe all will be fine but if I cannot make it I want you to have my spot.”
“That is the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
“Later mi amigo.”
“Later dood!”
Okay it is fine for you to say it. The man who has all of the balls in the world pussed out in talking to his boss. Jesse is not a nice man from time to time. Of course, a lot of that has to do with me giving him shit all the time but still. The phone was vibrating and the one thing that shook the confidence of men like PT Merciless and Josh Cole was happening. The simple wording Styles on my phone told me all that needed to be said. That was quick. The phone has just been hung up with Johnny seconds before.
“FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!”
“Calm down Jess.”
“FUCK CALM! YOUR ASS FINALLY GETS INTO TERRORDOME AND NOW YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BE THERE? FUCK YOU FOR WANTING JOHNNY TO TAKE YOUR PLACE! GET YOU ASS TO JAPAN NOW!!!!!!”
“I got business to handle. My mother was in a bad car crash caused by my dipshit aunt. She might not live. So I am going to see how it is and then I am flying to Japan if it is allowable. If it is not I will not be there. That is all.”
“FUCK YOU THAT IS ALL! I WILL TELL YOU WHEN THAT IS ALL! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO FUCK UP MY MAIN EVENT! GET YOUR ASS ON THAT PLANE OR YOU ARE FIRED.”
“Do what you gotta do. By the way did you happen to catch who is on Dancing with the Stars this year?”
“FUCKING PRICK! I SWEAR TO GOD SAY NOTHING IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS FUCKING GOOD FOR YOU!”
“Don’t worry Jesse. I am sure that way that wife of yours was flirting with her damned dance partner she is not going to be ballroom dancing but dancing all over that dude’s ball room. Is his name Inkt?”
“MOTHER FUCKER! NOW YOU WENT AND PISSED ME OFF!”
“So take it out on Peyton Manning.”
“YOU BET YOU FUCKING ASS I WILL. GET YOUR ASS HERE BITCH! AND FUCK YOU FOR THE INKT REFERENCE!”
Well that went better than expected as the red button is depressed. The woman heard all of the commotion from the last two calls and decided it was best to shut her damned mouth. Being the biggest prick on Earth has its advantages. That was the reason the conscious effort was made to be the prick that became so natural to me.
How can a person focus on some match in Japan when his mother is in the hospital? Honestly it did not matter even if Jesse did fire me. Some things are worth the sacrifice. By the time my ass got to Japan if that was even possible, the jet lag would fuck me up because my arrival would probably be match day. How does one compete with five world class athletes when the body was not in peak condition? Not to mention the fact that all of those assholes were gunning for the biggest dick on the planet. They tend to do that to the biggest threat in the match.
Sleep soon overtook me as the emotional strain on my body was too much to bear. My final thoughts and sounds were that of my nosey neighbor talking to some unsuspecting passenger about her ugly ass grand kids. Poor schumck.
My sleep was interrupted by the announcement of the impending arrival in Elko Nevada. It was a rural town in North Eastern Nevada that was famous for its rapid growth and having two of the top four gold mines in the world. That little shithole produced more gold than any country in the world. The sleep town would soon be famous for another reason. Its favorite son was coming home. Okay so favorite was not exactly accurate. They hate me more than anywhere else in the world.
There was not ticker tape parade for my arrival. No signs were being held for the famous conqueror coming home because the reality is that nothing had been conquered. Each time it appeared as if that final hump was being approached a stumble always occurred. The match was always great because that is what the fuck I do but in the end it was never enough.
The walk from the plane allowed me to reflect on the failure so many people have seen live and in person. How did a man of my talents lose to a schmuck like Inkt? Granted my best friend and brother pinned me but how did we lose that match? A text message was coming across. It read…
“ASSHOLE! CHAUFFEUR DRIVEN CAR AT THE AIRPORT. I KNOW YOU HAVE NO LISCENSE. SUCK DICK.”
Jesse was always a class owner. He even texts angry. Even when he was in the middle of being pissed off at me he made sure I was taken care of. This is why he is still in business while others are working at a fuggin soup kitchen. The man was standing beside the black SUV waiting to take me to my mother’s bedside.
“Hunter Valentyne?”
“Black dood?”
“Come on brah! That was really uncalled for!”
“Are you black?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a dood?”
“Yes.”
“Then shut the fuck up. Drive me away jackass.”
“Do you not even want to know my name?”
“Listen up gochese. I do not care about your family or who the fuck you are. I do not care what you name is or anything about you. Just shut your God Damned mouth and drive me to the fugging hospital.”
“Touchy! Fine my name is Jay Andrews. My cousin is a good friend of yours. He is Ray Andrews. I believe he is in the Styles Mafia.”
“Black chauffeur? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“No more so than a good guy Brit or a Mexican that drinks tequila.”
“Touche!”
The man opens the door for me as he looks down at me for my worn jeans that were to be worn on another job. Damn that shit coulda been great. We had spray painted the rooms of the Hall of Fame. But in reality that had been taken care of with the dood who owned the shit hole apartment that my ex-wife’s name was on. Now it was on to the hospital and a confrontation with my cunt of an aunt.
He drops me off at the front door of the hospital as he drives away in a hurry. He might have been in a hurry but my ass damned sure was not. It was almost like the walk of doom as my ass entered the hospital and the woman at the entrance desk. Her frown told me she recognized me.
“Ronnie!”
“Awwww fuck!”
“Ronnie is that you? You remember Lizzy don’t you?”
“How could I forget her? I stuck it in her ass on prom night. Damn near needed a shoe horn to get in but I got her done.”
“Wait you are the one?”
“Yup!”
‘What the hell are you doing here. Ronnie?”
“Get this straight bitch! My name is Hunter Valentyne. I am here to see my God Damned mother so quit with the small talk. What fucking room before I go Al Envy and fuck you too.”
“What’s her name?”
“Patricia Hunt.”
“She is in ICU.”
“I see you too bitch. Now where the fuck is she?”
“Three floors up. Check in at the desk.”
The word disease was uttered before but that disease is stupidity. It was the stupidity of my aunt that landed my mother here. It is also the disease shared by Valora Salinas. How can she utter that Hunter Valentyne is a selfish asshole and expect me to watch her fucking match after mine is done. Honestly Pugh beat Valora, Valora beat Pugh. Does anyone really give a shit? I know the fans didn’t.
The elevator ascends to its destination as the ride is a touch bumpy. Finally we are there as my aunt is pacing the floor waiting for someone other than me to walk in the room. This is the feeling I get so often because no one in the NEW wants me there and they damned sure do not want me to succeed. Pissing people off and making their worst nightmares come true has become a specialty of mine. Can you imagine the bitching when I win the World Title? That will be something to behold of that I am sure.
“So the prodigal son finally made it home. Nice of you to show up before she is dead.”
“If she died it is because you fucking killed her worse than Valora murders World Title matches. OR Matt Slater kills a push. Or Scarlet kills an Inkt Erection. Or Patrick Jones kills interest.”
“Are you still doing that fake wrestling crap? You cannot even let that shit slide when your mother is fighting for her life?”
“FUCK YOU! I am here and sacrificed a big deal in my career. Now some idiot like Matt Slater is going to win that fucking thing and life as we know it will be dead. Imagine Matt Slater choking again at Terror Dome. They might never hold the fucking thing if that happens. Where is she?”
“When did you start caring. This family needed you…”
“This family needed me like Valora needs another unearned title shot. My mother needs me and that is the point you are missing. This family can kiss my mother fucking ass. My mother is all that matters not some posers who think they are better than us. You think because your sons are doing well that you are better than my mother. That is like Scarlet Styles thinking she belongs in this match because she is married to a legend like Jesse. You logic sucks just as hers does.”
“Your mother is family.”
“My mother is the only family I have other than Johnny and Jesse.”
“Your wrestling friends? How cute.”
“They have always been there for me even when I screwed up. They supported me even when they knew I was wrong. They had my back even when they knew my imperfections. Johnny and Jesse are more of a family than you and your bastard kids ever will be.”
“My children are a success in life. They have a family and good jobs. Eddie owns his own machine shop. Jeffrey works for the mines and makes big time money. They see their kids every night. When was the last time you saw your son?”
“Just because you despise my line of work does not mean I am not a success. I make more than both those little bastards put together. Sure I do not see my son but that is because I am always on the road doing what I love to do. Ask them! Ask them if they love what they do and they will tell you no. I would do this shit for free if it were a necessity. I pulled up in a limo. What the fuck did you pull up in? The caddy your bitch kids bought you because you are a fucking leetch? Okay Patrick Jones say something.”
“How dare you speak to me like that for all I have done?”
“You drove the car that put my mother in the hospital because you are a fucking selfish bitch just like Valora Salinas. You only care for yourself and not how your actions affect others. You want to blame me for your every problem when in reality you were the one that failed. You do not even have the guts to earn what you desire. You let your kids hand you the things of the world you want rather than get on it and earn them through hard work and labor. How does it feel to cash in on the sweat of others who are better than you?”
“I already disowned you.”
“Then you can suck my fucking dick. Why should I care about you if you disowned me? That is like Valora telling me she is going to give me a world title match when she has never won the fucking thing. Your money is tainted and I would want no part of it anyways. NOW FUCK OFF!”
The nurse comes out of the room to see damned near World War Three in the waiting room. She walks up to me with a smile on her angelic face. If this were another situation I would totally think about fucking her but my mother is in there. My aunt is pushing her way to the front to see me but unfortunately for her my elbows are sharp.
“Sir you can see her now.”
“Ronnie, I am going in there.”
“Aunt Julie, if you go in there I will slit your God Damned throat. I swear to God I will.”
The nurse leads me off to the room as my Aunt glares at me like I am the damned devil. Most people think that is the case so why not go with it? The room is opened to see my mother lying on the bed resting somewhat comfortably. Suddenly all of the anger from speaking to my aunt was gone and a drop to my knees to see my mother who gave me everything from the time of my birth. She was both father and mother. Both confidant and friend. Losing her right now was not a possibility. There was so much to be said. So much had been left unsaid. There was guilt on my part for not spending as much time speaking to her as could have been.
“Mom, are you okay?”
She was still groggy from the pain medication ad her voice was weak but that sparkle in her eye still remained intact. In an instant I was turned back into that little boy at his mother’s side. She stirred and grabbed for the pitcher of water beside her bed. In great haste a reach was made for the pitcher; its content poured into a clear plastic glass. She took a long painful drink before speaking to me in a bone weary voice.
“Baby, what are you doing here? You have a match to get ready for in Japan. You need to bring that home for the family.”
“What family? I will do it for you if you ask me to but do not ask me to do a fucking thing for that bitch in the waiting room.”
“Do not speak like that, Ron.”
“Ron is dead. I am Hunter now.”
“The baby boy that I raised is not the man I see on the television. Where does all of that anger and rage come from?”
“You know damned good and well where it comes from, Mother.”
“You were angry when people used me. You saw the people of the church use me and you saw it as weakness on my part. You saw your aunt use me and it angered you. It is time to let it go. It is time for my little boy to come home.”
“NEVER!”
“Ron, do not be angry for you are with me. Now go win that match. I have followed everything you do as I did in Little League when you struck out. In time you become the best because failure drove you to succeed. You made All Stars your last year because you refused to fail. It will happen again, my son.”
“Each time the spotlight is on high, I fall short. It happened with Dave McDave. It happened with Roger Wright. It happened with my brother Johnny. I don’t know if I can win. I wish I could say that I could but history is not on my side. I will put up one hell of a fight but in the end is it going to happen the same way as before?”
“I believe in you, honey.”
“Everyone hates me and I am fine with that. I am not the same little boy you raised. I am more jaded than ever. I see people not working to earn their keep but to have it handed to them because they think they deserve it. Each person in that damned Terror Dome has been handed something in one way or another. Valara and her failure title shots. Scarlet because she is married to Jesse. Patrick because he leeches off of Drake. Matt because he once was a name in this business. Omega is the only one to not be handed something. I will be damned if any of them is winning Terror Dome.”
“Take it. It is your time. You defeated the champion last week.”
“IS this another failure?”
“No this is where you take your failures and turn them into success. This is little league all over again, son.”
She appears to be weaker from the conversation as she turns her head to the side. With a shake she is not stirring bit. My hands keep trembling as her body is not moving. What the hell? Did she just really die speaking to me? This shit sucks as tears fill my eyes.
“Mom, don’t you fucking leave me!”
No words were stirring her as grief was overcoming me. There was nothing to console me over this loss. Nothing could happen in Terror Dome that would hurt me like this did. The one person who was always there for me was lost. Through tear filled eyes my final pleas were to be fallen on deaf ears.
“God Damn it! Fuck those idiots in Japan. Their asses belong to me!”
With a storm my ass is out the door and heading downstairs. This one would be won for my mother. She was the one person who always was there for me and I did nothing to serve her. If anything my anger drove her crazy. There must have been times when she was ashamed of me but never told me so. The door is swung open as Jay is standing in front of the car.
“How did it go?”
“Fuck off and take me to the fucking airport.”
It was off to Japan for me and foes to conquer. Back in the hospital room my mother rose from her bed as she motivated me to do something that normally I could never have done. Usually my ass would cause as much grief as possible but she gave me the cause to fight for. With a twinkle in her eye she had the last word.
“My son is not the only one who knows this game. Good luck little boy.”