Post by Madman on Dec 8, 2013 20:29:13 GMT -5
"Well I hope that sufficed..."
"This rematch was the brainchild of upper management. It was supposed to be their gift to the PURE faithful. In the early stages of their product they want to put out the most competitive matches they can. And somewhere in a board room, miles from any wrestling ring, this was what they came up with. I don't know what they were hoping for when they booked it. Maverick Jones is not on my level. The only thing this match accomplished was discrediting anything Maverick has done up to this point in PURE Wrestling. So what, I upstaged him in our fatal four way match. It could have been left alone so the guy can forge an identity here. Now he's nothing more than a mid tier filler!"
"The poor guy is trying to make a name for himself in a new company, looking for that fresh start and he gets to run into a buzz saw two weeks in a row! Well Maverick don't be mad at me. It wasn't my fault! Callahan and Rebel personally signed your death warrant when they booked that match!"
"You've got to understand that I can't afford to lose at this point in the game. I have a date with Aubrey J. Parker and now Joe Martinez at Crisis. I need all the momentum I can get going into that monumental inaugural championship match. A slip up isn't going to help me one bit!"
"Not last week against Maverick Jones..."
"...and not this week against Mark Mania and Xianlong."
Day after day went by and more and more people found themselves getting into the holiday spirit. Stores were decorated to the nines: garland, tinsel, fake wreaths, and that ever looping sound of head exploding christmas music. The Starbucks coffee shop which I was sitting in was no different. I stuck out like a sore thumb. My head wasn't buried into any of the numerous apple products which could be found in the place. I was engaged in an in-depth conversation with friends or co-workers. I sat alone, in the corner, sipping on the red paper cup that I held in my hand.
My head was tilted towards the table, the black brim of my baseball cap hid my eyes from all of the other patrons. I stared at my black G-Shock watch as the seconds ticked away. Finally after what felt like was forever, a familiar face walked in and made a beeline towards my table.
Frankie Morrison, my personal agent and a close friend, passed over the normal pleasantries and sat down directly across from me. He sat quietly at first, avoiding eye contact at all cost. He tugged at his dress shirt collar which was underneath a black sports coat. His body language was horrible and I can tell something was bothering him.
"Frankie…" I blurted to get his attention.
He shifted his eyes around the coffee shop before settling on me. "I've got some bad news Chris, and I don't know how to tell you..."
I didn't believe him, I thought it was all a joke. "Right, Let me guess? Santa is canceling Christmas?"
"I'm not joking…" His expressions backed up everything he was saying. His eyes looked on the verge of tears. A smile was non existent. He could tell that I wasn't taking him serious and it got under his skin a bit. "Does everything need to be a fucking joke? I'm trying to tell you that I can't represent you as an agent anymore!"
My mind was blown as I sat in disbelief. "What do you mean you can't represent me anymore?"
Seeing that I've moved on from wanting to joke around, Frankie sat with his hand covering his mouth and rubbed at the stubble under his mouth. "An opportunity has come up…"
I was getting sick and tired of the pauses. At this point the cat was out of the bag and I just wanted an explanation. "Enough stalling Frankie…"
"I'm going to be the acting General Manager to Four Corners Wrestling, based out of the southwest. I'm not going to have the time to handle your bookings anymore. You're going to have to find another agent, or handle your affairs yourself…" Frankie watched me as the harsh reality sank in.
I didn't know how to act. On the business end of things I was pissed. Here was a guy who has been by my side for nearly fourteen years. He has helped get me to where I'm at in my career, one win away from yet another heavyweight championship. Every scheduling, every booking had a purpose. Without him I may not have made it in the business. But as a friend, I couldn't be more ecstatic. While I soared, he stayed afloat. Never wanting anything else out of our industry. But now this opportunity presented itself and I couldn't be selfish.
"Frankie, that's great news!"
"Really?" He looked confused, obviously expecting more of a negative reaction out of me…
"Yeah really! Frankie, that's a great opportunity for you to better yourself. I'm probably on my last legs…If PURE doesn't work out than I'll be hanging up my boots. I don't need an agent anymore. You've done more than enough for me. It's time for you to do what's best for you!"
He looked relieved, as if the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders. "You don't know how much this means to me! You know the door will always be open to you there."
"That won't be necessary…I've found my new home…"
I shot up into a sitting position as my phone continued to play its ringtone, Rise Against's "Blood to Bleed. My bedroom was pitch black except for the faint green light emitting from the digital clock on my nightstand. I rubbed the sleepies out of my eyes and looked down at my phones screen to see who was calling me at this hour. The phone read "restricted".
"Fucking restricted number! Fuck that!" I pressed the button on my phone to send it to voicemail and rolled over in bed, trying to go back to sleep.
I jumped up again as the phone rang once more. I shook my head as the pounding headache quickly took form. With a slide of my finger I answered the phone and angrily began interrogating the caller.
"You've got some nerve calling me at this time. Who the fuck is this."
The voice on the other end was calm despite my outburst. "This is detective Houser from the Suffolk County Police Department. I'm trying to reach a Chris Madison..."
My heart instantly sank into my gut as worst case scenarios started to race rampantly through my head. "Speaking", was all I could groggily muster up.
"Mr. Madison, we're going to need you to come down to Stonybrook Hospital. You're brother was involved in an accident..."
"Is he okay", I frantically asked while tossing the covers off of me.
I could hear the muffled sound of the detective discussing with his partner. He must have had his hand over the phone because I couldn't make out what he was saying. "He's going to be alright...we just need to ask you some questions if you don't mind."
"Of course. I'm on my way."
The hospital staff must have thought I was some kind of lunatic as I came running through the emergency entrance. I was quickly contained by a swarm of hospital security who were trying to maintain some form of order. They huddled around me with their arms spread out as spun around in circles.
"Where is he", I shouted much to the confusion of security.
One of the guards tilted his head and pressed down on his radio which had a microphone attached to his shoulder. "Hey boss, we have a loose one at post three..."
"Loose one?" I sized up the guards and shoved my through the weak links of the huddle. "Where's my brother?"
The commotion stirred up the attention of patients and hospital staff. I was buzzing like an angry hornet whose nest had just been disturbed. Finally the detective who woke me from my sleep in the dead of night came to check on the uproar.
"Chris Madison", he inquired while cautiously approaching. Seeing that attention was immediately drawn to him as he muttered my name, he called off the security crew. "It's okay boys. He's here for me..."
At his beckoning call the security crew backs off. One by one they eye me up as they pass. The guard reaches back to his microphone to speak to his boss over the radio again. "Boss disregard, he's here for PD."
"Where's Nick? Is he okay", I bullishly questioned while following the detective step for step. His unwillingness to answer my simple questions were unsettling to me. I placed my hand on his shoulder, which he obviously didn't like, causing us to stop.
"First of all sir, don't put your hands on me again." He watched my hand closely as I pulled it away. "I understand your concern. Your brother is okay. Some broken ribs, a busted mouth, nothing serious, nothing life threatening."
I exhaled a deep sigh of relief before doubling over and putting my hands down on top of my knees.
The detective placed his hand on my back and patted me twice, right between the shoulder blades. "We wanted you to come down here because we suspect there might be some foul play involved and your brother is refusing to cooperate with us."
Instantly I was able to decipher what happened without any clues from the detective. "Whatever you guys need."
Detective Houser seemed pleased as he smile while pulling out a notepad from his jacket pocket. Before getting to any of the questioning he jotted down my pedigree and contact information. "Well it appears that someone has tampered with your brothers car. The brake lines were cut, making it virtually impossible for him to stop his car. Does your brother have any problems with anyone specific?"
"Not that I know of..."
After a quick flick of his pen he moved on to the next question. "Can you think of anyone who would want to harm your brother?"
"Umm, any bookie taking bets from Montauk to the city."
"Big gambling problem", he asked while holding the tip of his pen pressed against his notepad.
"Yeah, you can say that. There's been a couple of times I've had to bail him out of trouble." I disgustingly shook my head at the situation, partially embarrassed and partially fed up.
"How big are we talking?" My laugh teased how big of a problem my brother had. "That bad?"
"Yeah, I've had to bail him out for tens of thousands of dollars." I watched as his jaw dropped and his eyes slowly shifted up to mine.
His disbelief caused him to stutter on his words. "I'm sorry did you say tens of thousands of dollars?"
"Yep..."
"And what does he do for a living?"
"He was a pro wrestler but had to retire early due to an injury. Now he co-owns a wrestling school with me and acts as the head trainer." I could see the instant suspicion. He didn't believe there was that kind of money to be made.
"Has anyone ever tried to hurt him before because of his debts?"
I bursted out in laughter. I needed more than two hands to count the number of times that Nick had been in trouble. Two stood out above the rest, perhaps because they were the most recent incidents. "Yeah...we showed up to The Scene, over in Commack, and a couple of thugs jacked us up using flapjacks. A couple of weeks later someone broke into our school and smashed up my office, nothing was taken...probably just more of a message."
"I see...more than likely this is another one of those incidents. Maybe you can talk to him and try to get him to open up. He's lucky this accident wasn't worse than it was." He followed up by pointing me in the direction of my brothers hospital bed.
I walked up to the double doors which separated the corridor from the emergency room. I lowered my head and pushed the doors open, expecting it to be worse than the detective had explained it. I whispered to myself as I walked in, "when it rains, it pours…"
"For the fourth time in five shows I'll be competing in another multi opponent match. In our business there is nothing more pure than one on one combat. Its the simplest way to prove superiority. Ironically PURE Wrestling doesn't seem to agree. Week after week, show after show, cards are riddled with triple threats and fatal four ways. The very thing they try base their company on eludes them."
"I can't be bothered by how Callahan and Rebel run their company. All I can do is go out there like I have been, week after week, and winning! I've only got one blemish to my record and on the twenty second I will have my date with redemption. But first, another two guys who seem to be on the outs of the Heavyweight title picture; Mark Mania and Xianlong…"
"You know Mark Mania is name that actually excites me going into this match. The guys name always echoed throughout Action-Packed Wrestling. No matter where you were, or who your were going up against, somehow Mark Mania seemed to have left a lasting impression. Those were the kind of guys I wanted to go up against in my short time in APW. Mark Mania, Terry Marvin, Michael Lively, Level-One, CJ Gates, Biggs…I wanted them all and I wanted to leave my own impression on a historic promotion. Well I only got to face two of the aforementioned names, but boy did I make it count! Biggs and Gates learned first hand just how dangerous I can be."
"A man with no fear is as dangerous of a person as you can encounter. I fear no man or woman inside that squared circle. You see Mark, something you'll quickly learn about me is that I don't care how much weight your name carries in this business and I don't care how big of a shadow your legacy creates. There's nothing you can do to me that I haven't already been through in my fourteen year career. I welcome you to try…I insist."
"I've earned my spot at Crisis. You failed in your opportunity. So now you not only have to survive this match with me, but somehow manage to win a battle royal in the main event against the rest of the PURE roster. I don't envy the position you're being put in by our fearless leaders. But all of this could have been avoided if you would have just came through with the win last week. Perhaps those old brittle bones can't handle it anymore. Perhaps you just can't hack it like you used to. Either way I am drooling at the possibility of being the man who put Mark Mania to rest!"
"And don't think I forgot about you Xianlong…"
"You're not just going to slip on by and sneak out a win that you so desperately need. Twice Aubrey J. Parker has made you look foolish in that ring. And I'm sure your eager to get your hands around her pretty little neck, but you need to take a number and get to the back of the line. She's certainly made a case for the PURE Heavyweight Championship hasn't she? Mostly at your expense. But that's Aubrey. She's the real deal. No sane human being would ever claim otherwise. But if you want another shot at her, you're going to have win that battle royal, if there's anything left when I'm through."
"Just like Aubrey, there's only one thing I want…the Heavyweight Title. All of these meaningless matches that upper management keeps feeding me are a waste of my time. All they are doing is putting all of you at risk as I choke you all out one by one…Much like Aubrey with her S&S Leg Lock, once I synch in the Peruvian Necktie, there is no escape. I'm a bad intentioned man once the bell rings. I show complete disregard for the well being of others. If I have to snap your damn neck with my vice like grip then so be it! It's nothing personal Xianlong. You just happen to be the poor sap that Callahan put across from me this week."
"I'm going to keep going. No matter what crumbles around me. No matter what personal vendettas people have against me. I'm going to keep going until I am the first ever PURE Heavyweight Champion!"
"This rematch was the brainchild of upper management. It was supposed to be their gift to the PURE faithful. In the early stages of their product they want to put out the most competitive matches they can. And somewhere in a board room, miles from any wrestling ring, this was what they came up with. I don't know what they were hoping for when they booked it. Maverick Jones is not on my level. The only thing this match accomplished was discrediting anything Maverick has done up to this point in PURE Wrestling. So what, I upstaged him in our fatal four way match. It could have been left alone so the guy can forge an identity here. Now he's nothing more than a mid tier filler!"
"The poor guy is trying to make a name for himself in a new company, looking for that fresh start and he gets to run into a buzz saw two weeks in a row! Well Maverick don't be mad at me. It wasn't my fault! Callahan and Rebel personally signed your death warrant when they booked that match!"
"You've got to understand that I can't afford to lose at this point in the game. I have a date with Aubrey J. Parker and now Joe Martinez at Crisis. I need all the momentum I can get going into that monumental inaugural championship match. A slip up isn't going to help me one bit!"
"Not last week against Maverick Jones..."
"...and not this week against Mark Mania and Xianlong."
Friday.December 6th.2013
Long Island.New York
12:25 PM EST
Day after day went by and more and more people found themselves getting into the holiday spirit. Stores were decorated to the nines: garland, tinsel, fake wreaths, and that ever looping sound of head exploding christmas music. The Starbucks coffee shop which I was sitting in was no different. I stuck out like a sore thumb. My head wasn't buried into any of the numerous apple products which could be found in the place. I was engaged in an in-depth conversation with friends or co-workers. I sat alone, in the corner, sipping on the red paper cup that I held in my hand.
My head was tilted towards the table, the black brim of my baseball cap hid my eyes from all of the other patrons. I stared at my black G-Shock watch as the seconds ticked away. Finally after what felt like was forever, a familiar face walked in and made a beeline towards my table.
Frankie Morrison, my personal agent and a close friend, passed over the normal pleasantries and sat down directly across from me. He sat quietly at first, avoiding eye contact at all cost. He tugged at his dress shirt collar which was underneath a black sports coat. His body language was horrible and I can tell something was bothering him.
"Frankie…" I blurted to get his attention.
He shifted his eyes around the coffee shop before settling on me. "I've got some bad news Chris, and I don't know how to tell you..."
I didn't believe him, I thought it was all a joke. "Right, Let me guess? Santa is canceling Christmas?"
"I'm not joking…" His expressions backed up everything he was saying. His eyes looked on the verge of tears. A smile was non existent. He could tell that I wasn't taking him serious and it got under his skin a bit. "Does everything need to be a fucking joke? I'm trying to tell you that I can't represent you as an agent anymore!"
My mind was blown as I sat in disbelief. "What do you mean you can't represent me anymore?"
Seeing that I've moved on from wanting to joke around, Frankie sat with his hand covering his mouth and rubbed at the stubble under his mouth. "An opportunity has come up…"
I was getting sick and tired of the pauses. At this point the cat was out of the bag and I just wanted an explanation. "Enough stalling Frankie…"
"I'm going to be the acting General Manager to Four Corners Wrestling, based out of the southwest. I'm not going to have the time to handle your bookings anymore. You're going to have to find another agent, or handle your affairs yourself…" Frankie watched me as the harsh reality sank in.
I didn't know how to act. On the business end of things I was pissed. Here was a guy who has been by my side for nearly fourteen years. He has helped get me to where I'm at in my career, one win away from yet another heavyweight championship. Every scheduling, every booking had a purpose. Without him I may not have made it in the business. But as a friend, I couldn't be more ecstatic. While I soared, he stayed afloat. Never wanting anything else out of our industry. But now this opportunity presented itself and I couldn't be selfish.
"Frankie, that's great news!"
"Really?" He looked confused, obviously expecting more of a negative reaction out of me…
"Yeah really! Frankie, that's a great opportunity for you to better yourself. I'm probably on my last legs…If PURE doesn't work out than I'll be hanging up my boots. I don't need an agent anymore. You've done more than enough for me. It's time for you to do what's best for you!"
He looked relieved, as if the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders. "You don't know how much this means to me! You know the door will always be open to you there."
"That won't be necessary…I've found my new home…"
Saturday.December 7th.2013
Long Island.New York
2:23 AM EST
"I don't love you anymore"
Is all
I remember you telling me
Never have I felt
So cold
But I've no more blood to bleed
'Cause my heart has been draining into the sea
"Fucking restricted number! Fuck that!" I pressed the button on my phone to send it to voicemail and rolled over in bed, trying to go back to sleep.
I jumped up again as the phone rang once more. I shook my head as the pounding headache quickly took form. With a slide of my finger I answered the phone and angrily began interrogating the caller.
"You've got some nerve calling me at this time. Who the fuck is this."
The voice on the other end was calm despite my outburst. "This is detective Houser from the Suffolk County Police Department. I'm trying to reach a Chris Madison..."
My heart instantly sank into my gut as worst case scenarios started to race rampantly through my head. "Speaking", was all I could groggily muster up.
"Mr. Madison, we're going to need you to come down to Stonybrook Hospital. You're brother was involved in an accident..."
"Is he okay", I frantically asked while tossing the covers off of me.
I could hear the muffled sound of the detective discussing with his partner. He must have had his hand over the phone because I couldn't make out what he was saying. "He's going to be alright...we just need to ask you some questions if you don't mind."
"Of course. I'm on my way."
Saturday.December 7th.2013
Stonybrook Hospital.Long Island.New York
2:50 AM EST
"Where is he", I shouted much to the confusion of security.
One of the guards tilted his head and pressed down on his radio which had a microphone attached to his shoulder. "Hey boss, we have a loose one at post three..."
"Loose one?" I sized up the guards and shoved my through the weak links of the huddle. "Where's my brother?"
The commotion stirred up the attention of patients and hospital staff. I was buzzing like an angry hornet whose nest had just been disturbed. Finally the detective who woke me from my sleep in the dead of night came to check on the uproar.
"Chris Madison", he inquired while cautiously approaching. Seeing that attention was immediately drawn to him as he muttered my name, he called off the security crew. "It's okay boys. He's here for me..."
At his beckoning call the security crew backs off. One by one they eye me up as they pass. The guard reaches back to his microphone to speak to his boss over the radio again. "Boss disregard, he's here for PD."
"Where's Nick? Is he okay", I bullishly questioned while following the detective step for step. His unwillingness to answer my simple questions were unsettling to me. I placed my hand on his shoulder, which he obviously didn't like, causing us to stop.
"First of all sir, don't put your hands on me again." He watched my hand closely as I pulled it away. "I understand your concern. Your brother is okay. Some broken ribs, a busted mouth, nothing serious, nothing life threatening."
I exhaled a deep sigh of relief before doubling over and putting my hands down on top of my knees.
The detective placed his hand on my back and patted me twice, right between the shoulder blades. "We wanted you to come down here because we suspect there might be some foul play involved and your brother is refusing to cooperate with us."
Instantly I was able to decipher what happened without any clues from the detective. "Whatever you guys need."
Detective Houser seemed pleased as he smile while pulling out a notepad from his jacket pocket. Before getting to any of the questioning he jotted down my pedigree and contact information. "Well it appears that someone has tampered with your brothers car. The brake lines were cut, making it virtually impossible for him to stop his car. Does your brother have any problems with anyone specific?"
"Not that I know of..."
After a quick flick of his pen he moved on to the next question. "Can you think of anyone who would want to harm your brother?"
"Umm, any bookie taking bets from Montauk to the city."
"Big gambling problem", he asked while holding the tip of his pen pressed against his notepad.
"Yeah, you can say that. There's been a couple of times I've had to bail him out of trouble." I disgustingly shook my head at the situation, partially embarrassed and partially fed up.
"How big are we talking?" My laugh teased how big of a problem my brother had. "That bad?"
"Yeah, I've had to bail him out for tens of thousands of dollars." I watched as his jaw dropped and his eyes slowly shifted up to mine.
His disbelief caused him to stutter on his words. "I'm sorry did you say tens of thousands of dollars?"
"Yep..."
"And what does he do for a living?"
"He was a pro wrestler but had to retire early due to an injury. Now he co-owns a wrestling school with me and acts as the head trainer." I could see the instant suspicion. He didn't believe there was that kind of money to be made.
"Has anyone ever tried to hurt him before because of his debts?"
I bursted out in laughter. I needed more than two hands to count the number of times that Nick had been in trouble. Two stood out above the rest, perhaps because they were the most recent incidents. "Yeah...we showed up to The Scene, over in Commack, and a couple of thugs jacked us up using flapjacks. A couple of weeks later someone broke into our school and smashed up my office, nothing was taken...probably just more of a message."
"I see...more than likely this is another one of those incidents. Maybe you can talk to him and try to get him to open up. He's lucky this accident wasn't worse than it was." He followed up by pointing me in the direction of my brothers hospital bed.
I walked up to the double doors which separated the corridor from the emergency room. I lowered my head and pushed the doors open, expecting it to be worse than the detective had explained it. I whispered to myself as I walked in, "when it rains, it pours…"
________________________________________________________________________________
"For the fourth time in five shows I'll be competing in another multi opponent match. In our business there is nothing more pure than one on one combat. Its the simplest way to prove superiority. Ironically PURE Wrestling doesn't seem to agree. Week after week, show after show, cards are riddled with triple threats and fatal four ways. The very thing they try base their company on eludes them."
"I can't be bothered by how Callahan and Rebel run their company. All I can do is go out there like I have been, week after week, and winning! I've only got one blemish to my record and on the twenty second I will have my date with redemption. But first, another two guys who seem to be on the outs of the Heavyweight title picture; Mark Mania and Xianlong…"
"You know Mark Mania is name that actually excites me going into this match. The guys name always echoed throughout Action-Packed Wrestling. No matter where you were, or who your were going up against, somehow Mark Mania seemed to have left a lasting impression. Those were the kind of guys I wanted to go up against in my short time in APW. Mark Mania, Terry Marvin, Michael Lively, Level-One, CJ Gates, Biggs…I wanted them all and I wanted to leave my own impression on a historic promotion. Well I only got to face two of the aforementioned names, but boy did I make it count! Biggs and Gates learned first hand just how dangerous I can be."
"A man with no fear is as dangerous of a person as you can encounter. I fear no man or woman inside that squared circle. You see Mark, something you'll quickly learn about me is that I don't care how much weight your name carries in this business and I don't care how big of a shadow your legacy creates. There's nothing you can do to me that I haven't already been through in my fourteen year career. I welcome you to try…I insist."
"I've earned my spot at Crisis. You failed in your opportunity. So now you not only have to survive this match with me, but somehow manage to win a battle royal in the main event against the rest of the PURE roster. I don't envy the position you're being put in by our fearless leaders. But all of this could have been avoided if you would have just came through with the win last week. Perhaps those old brittle bones can't handle it anymore. Perhaps you just can't hack it like you used to. Either way I am drooling at the possibility of being the man who put Mark Mania to rest!"
"And don't think I forgot about you Xianlong…"
"You're not just going to slip on by and sneak out a win that you so desperately need. Twice Aubrey J. Parker has made you look foolish in that ring. And I'm sure your eager to get your hands around her pretty little neck, but you need to take a number and get to the back of the line. She's certainly made a case for the PURE Heavyweight Championship hasn't she? Mostly at your expense. But that's Aubrey. She's the real deal. No sane human being would ever claim otherwise. But if you want another shot at her, you're going to have win that battle royal, if there's anything left when I'm through."
"Just like Aubrey, there's only one thing I want…the Heavyweight Title. All of these meaningless matches that upper management keeps feeding me are a waste of my time. All they are doing is putting all of you at risk as I choke you all out one by one…Much like Aubrey with her S&S Leg Lock, once I synch in the Peruvian Necktie, there is no escape. I'm a bad intentioned man once the bell rings. I show complete disregard for the well being of others. If I have to snap your damn neck with my vice like grip then so be it! It's nothing personal Xianlong. You just happen to be the poor sap that Callahan put across from me this week."
"I'm going to keep going. No matter what crumbles around me. No matter what personal vendettas people have against me. I'm going to keep going until I am the first ever PURE Heavyweight Champion!"