Post by journeyowns on Jan 27, 2024 19:11:42 GMT -6
Rebirth.
How many of them can a man have before it’s considered hack? Before people stop genuinely caring? A man can only reinvent himself so many times before he completely loses sight of what he originally was. Before his real identity becomes lost forever and he goes forth only as the goofy character he now portrays, a caricature of gFz ‘; a man. A walking joke.
For Bobby Bradley, the man who’d later become Bobby Backdoor and a slew of other dumbfuck characters, this question has taken over the center of his thoughts lately. Minute by minute, it was hard to know who he was. It had all become so convoluted…
“Fuck!” Bobby screamed as he sat up out of the bunk bed, slamming his forehead into the ceiling above. Who the fuck puts a bunk bed in a room with such low ceilings, he thought. It’s amazing how far down a man can get. One that once was on top. A world champion with a flush bank account can be reduced to a penniless ex-con, living in a halfway house, in just a matter of years.
“Why even bother to try anymore?” Bobby said to himself as he got ready to go to his meaningless job. Janitorial work at a waste management company. He was once on top of the world in the biggest wrestling company in it, New Edge Wrestling. Now he spent his evenings cleaning up the trash of the people who actually clean up the trash. Isn’t life swell?
As he shuffled toward the front entrance of the halfway house, ready to hop onto the bus, he was stopped by Mr. Jones, the man running the house.
“Mr. Bradley, there is a man here to see you!” bellowed Mr. Jones.
“If this is my parole officer, you can tell him to fuck off. I peed in the cup for him yesterday. He can’t test me again this soon,” replied Bobby.
“No, it’s not your PO. He said his name is Dan. Said he’s an old work friend of yours.”
“Dan?” Could it be, thought Bobby. That’s someone he hadn’t heard from in a very long time.
“He’s waiting outside for you,” said Mr. Jones. “I told him you’d be right out.”
Bobby grabbed his jacket and put it on and opened the door, heading out into the winter early evening cold. There on the front steps of the halfway house stood Cameraman Dan, his former best friend and colleague.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?” snarled Bobby.
“Wow, is that any way to greet an old friend?” replied Dan. “It’s good to see you, Bobby. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, it has been,” replied Bobby. “It’s been six years actually. Six years I’d been sitting in prison without a visit. Without a phone call. Six years I’ve been stewing, suffering. Without anyone. Why are you here now?”
“I came to deliver some news, actually.” Dan said. “I figured you should know in person. LA Kief, he passed away.”
“Whoa, what?” Bobby said, confused. LA Kief was his first opponent in New Edge Wrestling, a match Bobby barely won. It started off the most successful stretch of his wrestling career. Kief was a good man, a crazy man, but a good one.
“That’s really unfortunate,” said Bobby. “But you came all the way here to tell me this? You couldn’t have sent a letter or made a phone call? Hell, Kief was a celebrity. I’d probably hear the news from some wrestling fan who would recognize me on the street. Why the visit?”
“Well, New Edge is putting on a Kief Memorial Show. They want you back for it,” Dan said.
“Ahhh, there it is. No. I’m done with wrestling. I don’t need it anymore. It isn’t for me.”
“It’s a lot of money, Bobby,” said Dan. “Look at where you’re living. You absolutely need it. And if you want to know what I really think…I think wrestling needs you.”
“Ahhh, so that’s why you’re here,” Bobby retorted. “Money. You need it and figure if I’m back in wrestling you can hop back on the payroll and go along for the ride. No thanks, I’m not interested in some stupid return match against some nobody wrestler so the fans can point and say ‘Hey, I remember that guy!’ I’m not a novelty act anymore, Dan. I don’t need that shit.”
“It wouldn’t be against a nobody,” Dan said. “You’ve actually been challenged. For the main event.”
“Main event?” replied a shocked Backdoor. “And challenged? By who?”
“Seth Iser,” replied Dan. “It seems he thinks you two have unfinished business.”
“Fuck,” thought Bobby. “If there is anyone out there who I do have unfinished business with, it may be him.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Dan. “So i figured I should come and tell you myself. Look, I don’t care if you take the match or not. I just wanted to let you know about it so you could make that decision on your own.”
Bobby stood there for a second, lost deep in thought.
“So how much money are we talking here?”
OOC: My laptop took a shit today and I lost everything I’d written. My apologies for this being so short. Using my phone and I wanted to make sure I got something up on the board to honor Kief. Miss you, my friend.
How many of them can a man have before it’s considered hack? Before people stop genuinely caring? A man can only reinvent himself so many times before he completely loses sight of what he originally was. Before his real identity becomes lost forever and he goes forth only as the goofy character he now portrays, a caricature of gFz ‘; a man. A walking joke.
For Bobby Bradley, the man who’d later become Bobby Backdoor and a slew of other dumbfuck characters, this question has taken over the center of his thoughts lately. Minute by minute, it was hard to know who he was. It had all become so convoluted…
“Fuck!” Bobby screamed as he sat up out of the bunk bed, slamming his forehead into the ceiling above. Who the fuck puts a bunk bed in a room with such low ceilings, he thought. It’s amazing how far down a man can get. One that once was on top. A world champion with a flush bank account can be reduced to a penniless ex-con, living in a halfway house, in just a matter of years.
“Why even bother to try anymore?” Bobby said to himself as he got ready to go to his meaningless job. Janitorial work at a waste management company. He was once on top of the world in the biggest wrestling company in it, New Edge Wrestling. Now he spent his evenings cleaning up the trash of the people who actually clean up the trash. Isn’t life swell?
As he shuffled toward the front entrance of the halfway house, ready to hop onto the bus, he was stopped by Mr. Jones, the man running the house.
“Mr. Bradley, there is a man here to see you!” bellowed Mr. Jones.
“If this is my parole officer, you can tell him to fuck off. I peed in the cup for him yesterday. He can’t test me again this soon,” replied Bobby.
“No, it’s not your PO. He said his name is Dan. Said he’s an old work friend of yours.”
“Dan?” Could it be, thought Bobby. That’s someone he hadn’t heard from in a very long time.
“He’s waiting outside for you,” said Mr. Jones. “I told him you’d be right out.”
Bobby grabbed his jacket and put it on and opened the door, heading out into the winter early evening cold. There on the front steps of the halfway house stood Cameraman Dan, his former best friend and colleague.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?” snarled Bobby.
“Wow, is that any way to greet an old friend?” replied Dan. “It’s good to see you, Bobby. It’s been a long time.”
“Yeah, it has been,” replied Bobby. “It’s been six years actually. Six years I’d been sitting in prison without a visit. Without a phone call. Six years I’ve been stewing, suffering. Without anyone. Why are you here now?”
“I came to deliver some news, actually.” Dan said. “I figured you should know in person. LA Kief, he passed away.”
“Whoa, what?” Bobby said, confused. LA Kief was his first opponent in New Edge Wrestling, a match Bobby barely won. It started off the most successful stretch of his wrestling career. Kief was a good man, a crazy man, but a good one.
“That’s really unfortunate,” said Bobby. “But you came all the way here to tell me this? You couldn’t have sent a letter or made a phone call? Hell, Kief was a celebrity. I’d probably hear the news from some wrestling fan who would recognize me on the street. Why the visit?”
“Well, New Edge is putting on a Kief Memorial Show. They want you back for it,” Dan said.
“Ahhh, there it is. No. I’m done with wrestling. I don’t need it anymore. It isn’t for me.”
“It’s a lot of money, Bobby,” said Dan. “Look at where you’re living. You absolutely need it. And if you want to know what I really think…I think wrestling needs you.”
“Ahhh, so that’s why you’re here,” Bobby retorted. “Money. You need it and figure if I’m back in wrestling you can hop back on the payroll and go along for the ride. No thanks, I’m not interested in some stupid return match against some nobody wrestler so the fans can point and say ‘Hey, I remember that guy!’ I’m not a novelty act anymore, Dan. I don’t need that shit.”
“It wouldn’t be against a nobody,” Dan said. “You’ve actually been challenged. For the main event.”
“Main event?” replied a shocked Backdoor. “And challenged? By who?”
“Seth Iser,” replied Dan. “It seems he thinks you two have unfinished business.”
“Fuck,” thought Bobby. “If there is anyone out there who I do have unfinished business with, it may be him.”
“That’s what I thought,” said Dan. “So i figured I should come and tell you myself. Look, I don’t care if you take the match or not. I just wanted to let you know about it so you could make that decision on your own.”
Bobby stood there for a second, lost deep in thought.
“So how much money are we talking here?”
OOC: My laptop took a shit today and I lost everything I’d written. My apologies for this being so short. Using my phone and I wanted to make sure I got something up on the board to honor Kief. Miss you, my friend.
