The Second Great Awakening: Hardway

I’ve been in Bandit orbit for a good few months now and I still don’t know what eggs have to do with any of this. Beyond the carton analogy I’m stumped. We’ve all heard the old idiom about breaking a few eggs to make an omelet, and Jiles can cook with the best of them, but if that’s what he’s serving? It doesn’t quite resemble the picture on the menu. I guess that’s where I come in; a big dollop of special sauce to make this rotten eggs benedict arnold palatable. Mother of Hoyt that sounds ridiculous.

It’s a shame for Tony and Bobby. They’ve been led to a fork in the road and don’t know which way to turn. If they follow Coral down one path they incur the wrath of Cancer, but if they choose the other they risk losing Coral altogether. Either way they’re fucked, and no amount of cryo will fix it. As for me? I’m big enough to straddle both lanes. I gave them all my word after WarGames, Diamonds and Winters included, that I’m here for them if they need me. They only have themselves to blame that Cancer picked up the gauntlet first.

Maybe if Tony and Bobby upset the Femme Furies in their upcoming tag match they’ll realize their potential and find the voice to speak up against Jiles and Avalon, who knows? Tony is one of the most cunning veterans in the industry and Bobby is a near-400lbs meateor of a man, I certainly wouldn’t hesitate if I was in their shoes. But they don’t want to get their hands dirty and that’s their choice. The Bandit conundrum is enough to drive anyone to drink, I’d certainly rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy trying to work it out.

A little dirt is inevitable. God said Man should work with his hands, after all. I learned that from Devin Shakur, wherever he may be. So much of me wishes he hears it and comes back home to go another round or two. If the tape library hadn’t suddenly gone missing I’d sit every one of Jiles’s detractors down and show them what a real bastard looks like. Alas, like all the PCW and OSW footage, the ReVolution era tapes are no more.

Everyone wants to know why I’d even give Jiles the time of day, much less my backing? Why include him in the WarGames bargain at all as opposed to just hitching to Captain Coral, or anyone else with a higher moral compass for that matter? Well, for a start I’m older, wiser and more accomplished than most of the roster. I’m in no rush to collect the accolades I seek. I don’t crave adulation. I have no grudge to bear. I’m not racing against the clock to carve out a career like the rest. I returned to PRIME with a clean slate and a fresh perspective, hence why you haven’t seen me go after the Universal Title that I never lost. I make my own decisions.

The playing field stays level until I decide to shift it. My behavior isn’t dictated by cheers and boos, nor by the winner’s purse. I’m not here to be judged, I am the judge. I plan on conquering the ReVival era as I did the ReVolution, and in order to do that I first have to lay the foundations for my new empire. That means separating the wheat from the chaff. Take Nate Colton for example, imagine my disdain if I had aligned myself with him only to find out, as I did against Ivan, that he’s a spotlight hog? Give him enough rope and see where that takes him.

Watch the ReVival 53 main event back and ask yourself, why did Nate hang on for as long as he did when he knew the title was out of reach and Coral had his number? More time in the spotlight for the golden boy of course. It tracks, given that he involved himself in my business without so much as a by your leave. Jiles, by comparison, came to me personally to involve me in his business. He did it the right way. Am I supposed to turn a blind eye to that in lieu of preconceived notions and past transgressions that have nothing to do with me? No, I determine who’s naughty and who’s nice, and I’ll dish out the presents accordingly. If I’ve made an error of judgment on either side then time will soon tell, won’t it? Everything comes out in the wash eventually.

Which brings me to my next opponent. Everyone’s talking about Jonathan-Christopher Hall’s dirty laundry after he aired it to Hayes Hanlon on the last show, which explains why he was such a soft touch in the triple threat tag match at ReVival 52. I expected more of a fight from a former Universal Champion. He stood out like a sore thumb, agitated and unfocused on the apron and in the ring, more child than man. A lost puppy, next to the woman who puts the siren in air raid siren. That was my first proper exposure to Vickie Hall. I’ve seen more of her father Reed on the program than her, and after Jonathan-Christopher’s confrontation with Hayes the why is quite clear.

I was in love once. Back in the ReVolution, during a dark period of my life. Her name was Gloria. We met under less than ideal circumstances, while I was carrying out a crusade of vengeance against someone who had wronged my family. We saved one another from that shit life and tried to make a better one for ourselves, until she was taken from me. I hadn’t felt heartbreak like that since the day I lost my parents. I went on to have some of my most violent matches after that, and ended up a two-time Universal Champion because of it. When PRIME closed its doors I was left with only ghosts and bad memories and no outlet to vent my frustrations. So I disappeared into the middle of nowhere, where it’s safest, and built Parts Unknown.

While Gloria and I were together, however, I made sure never to bring her to shows with me. The world is cruel and unforgiving enough without inviting more misery into your life by shitting where you eat. Why would anyone bring their family around the locker room? PRIME is a hotbed of competition and one-upmanship, of real violent intent. There are predators in this jungle. Even back in Old School Wrestling, where everything was predetermined and talent worked with one another in matches, it was never a safe environment. Just look at Ivan and Tempest.

I get it, Jon. Life on the road can get tough and loneliness is a killer, but you have to make sacrifices for the greater good. Besides, it’s not like back in my day when you were gone for weeks or months at a time, we have the ability to cross continents in a matter of hours nowadays. The juggling act isn’t as difficult as it used to be. Anyone that brings their significant other out on the road with them is just doubling the odds in favor of the predators. Look at it like this; you know the shit could hit the fan at any time, so why would you add more fans to the equation?

Take that and do with it what you will. I can’t tell you how to live your life, but from what I’ve seen so far it feels like you need some advice. I don’t dislike you, and we don’t have an issue with each other, but if you’re stepping in the ring with me you need to have your wits about you. Cecilworth Farthington fractured my arm, remember? I was supposed to be on the shelf for six to eight weeks but instead I got called in for the main event of ReVival 51. Then, two weeks after that, the triple threat tag match at ReVival 52. Which Cancer and I won. I’m not a soft touch, Jon.

I need you to focus on the task ahead, young man. We are proven draws. It’s our duty as gladiators to put on the best show possible for the paying customers and you didn’t give them their money’s worth in the triple threat tag match. It’s our responsibility to close out the second hour of the show with a bang. This isn’t OSW, I can’t carry you from bell to bell, we’re shooting here. I’ll give you some wiggle room, but if you start with the namby-pamby act again in front of that crowd I’ll tan your fucking hide and take your spot from you. You represented this company at the highest level and you can do it again, if you can get through me. Stop thinking with your cock and start using your head, or I’m gonna knock it clean off your shoulders.

You’re not the only one who’s at their most dangerous when they have purpose. Love can be a powerful driving force, it’s certainly served you well up ‘til now. But, as you’re finding out, it is ultimately fickle. You can’t rely on it. Love is just a word, an excuse really, to be connected to something better than yourself. In most cases it’s simply a side effect of the breeding process. Look around you, look in the mirror even. Society has engineered so many fail-safes for the smalls to endure the world around them that survivability itself has diminished almost completely from the gene pool. The weak are coddled, the sick are nurtured and the stupid are tolerated. You surround yourself with walls and remedies to stave off being ripped to shreds mercilessly by nature’s bite.

I am that sharp tooth, that piercing claw. My purpose is to show you what you could have been, what you could become. Men like myself, Ivan, Clay…we are a different breed. Where everyone else runs and hides, we seek and destroy. We persist. I’ll be 53 years old in a couple of months yet my body isn’t showing any signs of breaking down. Not so much as a receding hairline. With the career I’ve had I should be in a wheelchair, or dead. The stark reality is I’m simply made of sterner stuff.

I take advantage of the therapies and prescriptions provided by PRIME not because I need them, but because I have to keep up the front of vulnerability. Let’s keep that between you and me though, eh? I was told a long time ago that the invincible act won’t fly in this profession, that it’s a business killer. Why would anyone pay to see a match they know the outcome of? Inevitability scares people. In the real world fear leads to panic, which leads to frenzy, which leads to mob action, which leads to graveyards. Television, movies and books are not entertainment…they are a scripted rehearsal for survival. That is our platform. You fight to show people there’s something worth fighting for, I do it to show them the cost of it.

By the time Colossus rolls around again I should have a firm grasp of how this place operates. If I find myself booked against someone I’ve already faced, before I’ve had a chance to wrestle everyone, then I’ll know where the office has drawn the line in the sand. I’ll have a pool of who they deem worthy and who they don’t. Life’s going to get a little more interesting after that. How far into the future can you see, Jon? Can you imagine yourself standing over me, victorious? Can you picture that next title opportunity? Do you hear the roar of the crowd? Or is your bleeding heart beating too loudly? I can see it, for myself that is. I even know the exact time and place it’s going to happen. Don’t worry, you still have plenty of time to pack your bug-out bag.

Regardless of the outcome at UltraViolence, a Bandit is going to walk out Universal Champion. I played a part in that. If I hadn’t extended that courtesy to my teammates after WarGames, if Cancer Jiles hadn’t taken me up on my offer, would he have even shown face in my match against Ivan? Would he have pressed forward with his grand scheme, or would Ivan have gone on to face Avalon instead? Perhaps. You could have helped the big man in that situation, since you’re seemingly tight with each other, but look where we are now. All eyes are on the Bandits, thanks to Jiles and thanks to me. I barely lifted a finger. Want to see what else I can do?

By the way, Coral Avalon, Cancer Jiles and Bobby Dean are off-limits. If you think you’re going to harass them the way you harassed Hayes, you’ve got another thing coming. The boys have more important matters to deal with than a jilted loon hunting blondes. Figure it out, by all means, but do not figure them in. You ever seen clips online of a Kangal shepherd soloing a wolf pack to protect its flock? I’m that dog. The carton is under my watch. Whether it’s revenge for Vickie or for what happened at Tropical Turmoil, if you come sniffing around them you’ll have me to deal with. That goes for everyone else too, including the scumbags that like to take shortcuts and swing chairs.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some housekeeping of my own to tend to.

Cyril wasn’t too impressed with Alexei bopping him at ReVival 51. Less so with my insistence on leaving the Russians be. Whether he even shows up to second me at the next show or not is up to him. I made it clear when I offered him the opportunity to revive the Minion character that he was under no obligation to show out if he didn’t want to, that he’s earned the right to sit at home and collect a wage if he pleases. He made a big song and dance about dressing up like an Imp again, expressing his desire to show face as himself. I find it curious that he hasn’t fully committed to that idea.

It’s like something’s standing in the way of him ditching the old cartoon facade, other than at my behest that is. I wonder if he truly resents the gimmick, or if some small part of him still clings to the hope that Minion the Imp could be as popular as he was back in the day. I think he secretly wishes to find the same success that the likes of Pious Penguin and Reed Young have seen. Opening my home to him seems to have stifled the sour grapes somewhat, he’d have thoroughly chewed me out by now if not. He’s like a brother to me, which means fighting like one too sometimes.

We’re to expect company soon, according to him. Apparently an old friend reached out after seeing him on TV getting his bell rung and fancies a catch up. In all our years working together, Cyril and I never really mixed business with pleasure. I know he fell back on his carnie roots between OSW closing down and my run for the Universal Championship, but I’m as familiar with his social circle as he is with mine. He knew as much about my relationship with Gloria as anyone else in the locker room.

Imagine my surprise when he told me this friend was, as he put it, a high-level broker with far-reaching influence. I was expecting maybe a merman or a bearded lady. Apparently he’s a long-time acquaintance of Cyril’s brother as well, there’s another turn-up for the books. I jokingly asked if he could facilitate business for us in PRIME, to which Cyril confided to me that this gentleman was part of the reason why the other big player in the market with the same name was able to sustain its margins today. Color me intrigued, I’m looking forward to meeting this friend and finding out just how full of shit Cyril is on this one.

The floors need sweeping in preparation for our visitor, and the beds won’t make themselves. It takes a lot of effort to keep my house in order, something Jonathan-Christopher Hall is finding out the hard way.

El, oh, el, as the kids say.

Maybe I’ll show him how it’s done, after I show him how it’s done in the squared circle.