Brutal

Fell short again.

But ya did good, bruh.

Hung in there against PRIME’s 2023 Wrestler of the Year.

Evaded Marie Antoinette twice.

Had Le Protagoniste on the ropes and almost sealed the deal.

Almost.

Story of the Bruh in 2024, right?

Story of Bryan Dawkins since the 2021 Terminus Complex.

Now you’re not even booked on Culture Shock.

You used to be a big deal.

Now look at you.

I think it’s time for a change, Bruh.

***

MARCH 29, 2024

MILLENNIUM STADIUM

CARDIFF, WALES, UK

Bryan paced at the end of the long, dark hallway.

It was still early; Night One wouldn’t kick off for another six hours and most of the talent wasn’t due to begin arriving in the building for a few more hours. However, Bryan knew without a shadow of a doubt that his target would be there this early.

His destination was on the other end of the hallway but the former Flyin’ Hawaiian was clearly not in a hurry to reach it.

The ole STEEL DOOR O’ DOOM.

The location may change, yet the door remains the same.

Plain.

Cold.

Unyielding.

Eat the frog, bruh.

The quicker this was over, the better.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

*click*

“Hey boss, got a minute?”

The Queen of the Ring was neck-deep in dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s that would allow Culture Shock to go off without a hitch. Among those I’s and T’s was the security plan that detailed the metal detector and pat downs for those who entered the building. Dawkins flew through the checkpoint, oblivious for whom it was set up.

Even on a different continent, Lindsay Troy’s office was a familiar site. The same site where Bryan signed his contract with PRIME a mere three months earlier. Same desk, same chairs, same decor.

The Lady of the Hour briefly glanced at her old friend-turned-employee and beckoned him over.

“Hey, Dawk. I’m in the middle of something, but I can spare a minute.”

Well, here we go…

“So uh, I was thinkin’...”

The Queen lifted an eyebrow. “No ‘bruh?’ This must be serious.”

Alright then. Here goes…

“I’d like my release.”

Lindsay stared at him, unflinching. Watched him as he fidgeted.

“Not a chance.”

What? How could she? What am I adding here? I don’t understand.

His posture sunk. Body seemingly deflated. Almost melted into a puddle of goo in the middle of the traveling office.

“But…”

“No.”

“I can go back to Bang! I was doing well there. I could actually compete there, bruh. I felt like I belonged. Not so much here, ya know? This return has been brutal and I think a change would be good for me.”

Troy sat upright in her chair, placed her pen down, and folded her hands over her paperwork. Not once did her eyes leave his.

“I’ve never known you to run when things got a little tough, Bryan, and I’m not going to let you start now. Neither will Inoue. You’re staying in PRIME and honoring your contract.”

Well, fuck this then. No point in sticking around if I’m not being used this weekend.

Without another word, Dawkins stormed from the room, slamming the giant steel door behind him. As he power walked through the corridors of Millennium Stadium, he heard the familiar ding of his phone. Continuing along his path, he glanced at the message.

REMINDER - FLIGHT

CARDIFF (CWL) TO BORA BORA (BOB)

MARCH 31, 2024 @ 1:00 PM BST

Without hesitation and a few clicks later, he was connected to an agent.

“Hey, uh, yeah this is Bryan Dawkins. Got a series of flights booked from Cardiff to Bora Bora on Sunday the 31st. Any chance there are any sooner flights?”

He was almost at the exit of the building. He brought no bags to the building - he was free.

“Yeah bruh, don’t care about the price. I’ll take it.”

Again, a few clicks later, an Uber was booked. Within ten minutes, Dawkins was hopping into the white Volkswagen Golf.

“Hey bruh…two stops - my hotel, then the airport.”

***

There was no cell service on the plane and Dawkins was ill prepared for the short-notice flight, much less the 31 hour series of flights on his itinerary. Regardless, there was time to kill and he had a lot on his mind.

C’mon Bryan, how could we fuck this up so badly?

We had it good in Bang! We were at the top of our game. Had the BEST matches of our career. Rivalries with some of the best wrestlers in the world. Night after night, facing the best that Bang! had to offer.

And then we got injured.

Ya know what? We rebounded. Put on a bunch of muscle. Focused on wrestling. On our other love - jiu jitsu. And we got pretty fuckin’ good at it, Bryan. Can’t become a brown belt without being a bad, bad bruh. Ya don’t become a brown belt by accident.

Think about the success we could have had if we just continued to Bang!

THINK ABOUT IT, BRYAN.

We were already at the top of the heap, bruh. And that was when all we did was fly. Now we can wrestle. Now we can impose our will. Now we can make people fear Bryan Dawkins.

The Aces of Bang! would have bowed to the new Bryan Dawkins. Hanazawa? Simply an afterthought. Ichikawa? Big Iron would have a big problem with the new Bruh.

But nooooooooooo, couldn’t do that, could we bruh?

Had to get nostalgic.

Had to get greedy.

Had to get PRIME.

And for what, bruh? To go winless? To be forgotten?

We’ve been brutalized every step of the way.

Dan Van Slade and Mar? Brutalized.

Cancer Jiles? Brutalized.

FLAMBERGE? Brutalized.

It’s embarrassin’, Bryan. You’ve been nothing in PRIME.

A joke. 

An afterthought.

Hell, we’re not even booked on the first big show of the year, Bryan. Culture Shock is probably better off without Bryan Dawkins.

Nobody’s afraid of Bryan Dawkins in PRIME in 2024.

They should be, but they’re not.

Ya know, I’ve been thinkin’ lately. Maybe Dr. Kim is right. Maybe the wins and losses don’t really matter. Maybe putting the win-loss record on the back burner and focusing on being a bad motherfucker in the ring is what really matters.

If we lose? At least we made them suffer and work for it.

If we win? At least we made them suffer and work for it.

Maybe some brutality is just what we need.

“Sir?” the flight attendant’s friendly check-in startled PRIME’s Favorite Hawaiian. Deep in thought and being consumed by journaling, he jerked back to reality in a split second.

“Hi, sir…can I get you anything? We’ll be serving food in a few hours, but can I get you anything in the meantime?”

After a few blinks and a few moments to process the question, he smiled and shook his head, declining the offer.  He could’ve gone back to the journaling session, but decided to rest his eyes for a bit. After all, this wasn’t going to be a short trip.

***

MARCH 30, 2024

SEAMAN’S HOTEL AND ISLAND RESORT

BORA BORA

Some have said that tropical weather has healing properties. Something about the combination of the sun, cooling mist from the sea and the sound of waves crashing onto the sand is just right. For someone who spent the majority of his early life on the beaches of Hawaii, this was doubly true for Bryan. As he stepped out onto the tarmac, the stale air from the cabin was replaced by fresh, salty air from the sea.

For the first time in 2024, he felt refreshed.

And then the messages started to flood his phone.

DING

DING

DING

DING DING DING DING DING DING

Airplane mode can be a hell of a thing.

Messages, voicemails, emails, hell even Jabber messages blew up his phone as he stepped foot into paradise. If one didn’t know better, they’d think all of Cardiff was looking for Bryan Dawkins.

They weren’t - PRIME administration was just really, REALLY persistent.

Without much thought and a few clicks later, Dawkins had Instagram open. Assuming the standard selfie pose paired with a hang loose/shaka sign, Dawkins snapped a few photos. He selected the best one and penned the following caption:

Just touched down in Bora Bora - there’s no other place I’d rather be this weekend! #bruh #dawkins #borabora #bbcw #dawkinslocke2 #seamanshotelandislandresort

“Mr. Dawkins?”

As he turned around, a team of a half dozen workers dawning fantastically white Seaman’s Hotel and Island Resort uniforms swarmed the area, picking up all types and sizes of luggage and carefully loading said luggage onto a series of trollies. The very definition of controlled chaos was taking place before his eyes.

In the midst of the display, the source of the voice stood out - donning a form-fitting tropical floral button down and white mini skirt that made her tan complexion look all the more striking. A sight for sore eyes, for sure.

“I’m Tiare. Mr. Seaman wanted me to personally welcome you to Seaman’s Hotel Island Resort. We were pleasantly surprised to hear that you changed your travel arrangements to join us early! We were of the understanding that you had other obligations with PRIME this weekend.” Her smile was radiant. Welcoming. The kind of smile that made tourists fall in love and never want to leave Bora Bora.

“Thanks…things changed a bit for me and I figured why not enjoy a couple extra days of sun?” He peered around the airport, admiring the 360 degree views of beauty that surrounded him. He could get used to this.

“I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you guys…” his voice trailed off.

“No no no, not at all Mr. Dawkins!”

“Please, call me Bryan.” He smiled.

“Bryan, got it. No trouble at all - with you being a part of Bora Bora Championship Wrestling’s first big event, we’re happy to accommodate! We’ve got you set up in our finest accommodations for your stay.”

Finally, someone who sees my value.

“Follow me, I’ll take you to your bungalow.”

Dawkins was relieved. This could have been another Fyre Festival.

***

Well, well, well…

See what happens to us, Bryan? When we go places where we’re appreciated?

Treated like royalty.

The presidential bungalow and the most exclusive resort in Bora Bora.

Paid stupid money to wrestle in front of a few thousand people on a beautiful island.

This is what happens when we make good decisions, Bryan.

Now, it’s time to get down to business with an old friend.

Rhett Locke.

I don’t think I need to remind you about the last time we ran into him.

***

APRIL 7, 2024

BBCW GOLD NIGHTS

SEAMAN’S HOTEL AND ISLAND RESORT

Wrestling Rhett Locke was like slipping on a comfortable old pair of shoes. It might have been sixteen years between meetings but once you have the kind of war that they had back in 2008, you don’t forget it.

For the first twenty minutes of the match, it was back-and-forth. Dawkins continued to develop and modify his newly-adopted ground-and-pound game to neutralize Locke’s high flying daredevil style. For every suicide dive and springboard plancha thrown at Dawkins there was a series of Muay Thai strikes or any number of suplexes was offered in return.

Unfortunately for Rhett, Dawkins began to scout and diagnose his every move. He was, after all, the former Flyin’ Hawaiian and specialized in this kind of wrestling until the past few years. High risk, high reward was the name of the game until Dawkins ran into the buzzsaw that was Akira Hanazawa. For every attack there was a counterattack.

Once Dawkins got into the groove of the match, it was game-over for Rhett.

There came a point around the 25-minute mark of the match where he had been grounded by Dawkins for over five consecutive minutes. It was ground control and mat wrestling at its finest and Dawkins was in full control. The sequence ended with Dawkins in full mount, landing heavy fists and elbows to the head of his rival.

Those blows inflicted a myriad of damage starting with swelling that closed Locke’s left eye fully shut and an elbow that left the mat looking like a gruesome Jackson Pollock painting.

There was one word to describe it - brutal.

The bout ended when a dazed Locke threw a wayward punch that allowed Dawkins to pull guard and lock in a tight Kimura.

When we say tight Kimura, we’re not talking lazy hobbyist jiu-jitsu Kimura…we’re talking one of those “if you don’t tap in the first five seconds after the submission is applied, say goodbye to your arm” type of Kimura.

Attribute it to the beating he took moments before or the wear and tear of a long life on the road (filled with all sorts of illicit substances, no doubt) as a professional wrestler, but Rhett Locke did not tap quickly enough. One could argue the referee should have stepped in to stop the match earlier but that just didn’t happen.

The pop that the sold-out crowd heard was the sound of Rhett’s humerus breaking under the pressure from the Kimura.

DING DING DING

Brutal.

Women were mortified.

Children were crying.

Most men were chomping at the bit, not expecting to see a bloodsport-style injury in the ring. Humanity today, right?

As Dawkins stood victorious in the ring and was awarded the Bora Bora Championship Wrestling Light Heavyweight title, a sliver of regret took residence in the back of his brain.

Regardless, he took his place atop one of the turnbuckles, raising his newly won title for all to see and felt the cheers of the crowd wash over him.

It felt good to have success.

***

LATER THAT EVENING

The crowds had gone for the evening.

BBCW’s Gold Nights was a success…well, unless you consider the fact that the livestream was canceled on account of unexplained fire damage. Wait a minute, didn’t we compare this to Fyre Festival before? I’m sure that’s all coincidence. Anyway…

More important than anything was that for the first time in months, Bryan Dawkins felt good.

He now sat alone in the ring, back against one of the bottom turnbuckles with a beer in one hand and his phone in the other. The BBCW Light Heavyweight title sat in between his outstretched legs on the mat in front of him.

The moonlight caused the gold on the title to shimmer brilliantly. Dawkins sat there, mesmerized by the title much like a toddler would be drawn to a mobile.

DING

His trance is disrupted by the notification. He quickly glances at the screen, which displays a simple message:

REV 46 BOOKING NOTICE

BRYAN DAWKINS VS PAXTON RAY

Immediately, the Notes app is opened and Dawkins is clicking away.

Well, at least we aren’t fired.

Wouldn’t mind stickin’ around Bora Bora, though.

Good food.

Immaculate weather.

Stupid money.

…guess we do have to go back to PRIME now.

I think we’ve learned an important lesson this week, Bryan.

Dr. Kim was 100% right.

The wins and losses don’t matter.

Now we’re gonna get a chance to prove that to all of PRIME, startin’ with Paxton Ray at ReVival 46. Bayou Boy probably thinks he got a lucky draw pullin’ Bryan Dawkins for his first match in over a month.

Probably thinks there’s gonna be ring rust, right?

Maybe it’s a good thing that the live feed never aired.

Maybe it’s a good thing the tapes are unsalvageable thanks to fire damage.

Now Paxton Ray has no idea what’s comin’.

He has no idea that a switch has been flipped in Bryan Dawkins.

He has no idea that when the bell rings, the fun-lovin’, pineapple obsessed Bryan Dawkins gets locked away. In his place there’s a guy who has no limit to what he’ll do to inflict pain on his opponent.

That guy won’t hesitate to rearrange a face.

To break a jaw.

To snap an arm.

To put someone to sleep.

Old Bryan Dawkins wanted to be liked. Wanted to be the fan-favorite.

New Bryan Dawkins wants to be brutal.