Post by bad guy™ on Sept 21, 2013 23:41:38 GMT -5
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I am not one for keeping track of insignificant anniversaries and little nothings that mean…well…nothing. But if my memory serves me right, I am very close to hitting a year with this disease. At least, since I was diagnosed. The prospects of me living were grim, but as the doctor said, miracles have happened to worse men. Unfortunately there are few men worse than me, and little did he know that the cancer for me was a miracle. A blessing in disguise.
But I am one hell of I liar. I have made a career of bluffing. I made the fans think I was worth caring about. I made the brass think I was worth keeping around. I made the other wrestlers think I was worth their time. Truth be told, my own lack of belief in self worth aside, I really was never anything that spectacular here. I was just a big guy with a big heart, who strived to be the best that he could. It really never amounted to much, but still. People thought me better than I was. They overestimated my talents.
Speaking of my talents being overestimated, I have not done a blog since Battleground. I have remained out of the public eye as much as I could since that night, for obvious reasons. I really do not feel like walking down the street and being asked every five minutes how it felt to BE champions for five minutes. Let us face it, people have a tendency to ask the redundant and as a result, my tolerance for their stupidity has forced me to seclude myself in the confines of my hotel room.
It sucks, ok? Leading up to and going into Battleground, I had bigger things to do, bigger fish to fry, in that match than win the title, but the fact that I was crowned champion and subsequently stripped of said title almost as soon as the belt was around my waist…it hurt. I have not spent my entire career chasing that crown. My entire life was not dedicated to honing my craft in order to win the most prestigious title in wrestling. But I was given an opportunity because something told Xavier that I was better than I truly am and as a result I was granted said match, somehow managed to win and lose the battle and the war in one match.
#CancerPatientProblems
But you know, losing the match was fine. I never really wanted to win that bad. My goal going into that match was much greater. Save Scarlett. The little child refused to heed my warnings of the evil of that championship, fought, lost and won all at one time. Well, congrats for her for not listening to the man who knew best. I hope she enjoys being raped by Trace at Scars and Stripes. C*nt deserves it.
Not sure how much you guys have been following my outside-the-ring antics as of late, but about a week or so ago I received a call from one of the board of directors. Somewhere, someone decided that it would be a good idea to send a guy who is down on his luck and dying to a cancer hospital for kids as some sort of inspiration. Truth be told, knowing the hell that would be brought down upon Demon and Anders if they tried to make my life as miserable on camera by the ACLU by picking on a guy with cancer, I feel like this is their idea of a cruel joke. Put the dying guy with a dead kid around a bunch of dying kids.
Cruel and unusual punishment from a set of dicks not equal in size to that of my own? Yep.
Good publicity stunt because it still makes them look good because they are masters of propaganda and falling in piles of sh*t and still coming out smelling like roses? Yep.
Listen up, kids. Lesson one. Do not buy what they are selling. Do not eat their cake. The cake is a lie.
Yes, I made a Portal 2 reference inside of a defamatory blog regarding the state of the WFWF. I am hip to what is trendy to the kids these days. Well…a couple of years ago when Portal was still cool and Valve was still relevant. HIPSTERS UNITE.
So on one end I was being told I had to go because it was what was best for the WFWF and its image. On the other end, Thunder was forcing me to go because I am somehow supposed to serve as a sign of inspiration to kids fighting the good fight against the disease trying to take their breath away. I know his real reasoning though. He wanted me to go for the same reason, but flipped. Instead of me inspiring them, these children were supposed to inspire me to keep fighting. To keep going.
Truth be told, I have been in a rut since Battleground. Losing the title sucked. Not being able to help Scarlett, sucked more. Getting my ass handed to me by Joe Bishop…laughingly humiliating on various levels, to a point where I feel like jumping off of the Clemente Bridge for even thinking about it. But you know, whatever. I have not been happy with my life, or lack thereof for years now, no surprise to anyone. I keep trying to succeed only to wind up taking two more steps back and thus gaining no ground on my ultimate goal of reclaiming one last glimmer of hope for this disaster of a company. But I have barely even been able to get out of my bed these last couple of weeks. Physically, I am absolutely spent. I am man enough to admit that just standing up puts me out of breath anymore. I have dropped to almost two hundred pounds. The biggest meal that I have eaten in about a month is two slices of bacon and a juice, and just about all I can keep down at all is beer…what got me into this predicament to begin with. Irony.
But I was thinking of phoning in my resignation to the WFWF a few days back, mainly because I did not want to go to the hospital, but frankly…what is left for me to do? Xavier is no longer running the show. Demon and Anders have a stranglehold on almost everything in the company except for the thing that matters most, the Championship…which they will soon have in their back pocket when Scarlett is fed to Trace in a few weeks. And because Xavier is gone, the rebellion within the WFWF is in absolute shambles. No one knows quite what to do. Everyone is scrambling to try to save their own asses because Trace is administering his own little dose of hell for everyone involved in trying to unseat him, and I am being looked upon by those who still want to fight as the leader. I am the one they are looking to for advice, and inspiration.
…that is what caused me to ultimately go to the hospital with Thunder to see the kids. It hit me that I am in a spot that I never, ever wanted to be in but, you know, was kind of forced into. On both battle fronts, I am being looked to as a world wide leader, the guy in charge. The guy who is supposed to have all of the answers, when in reality I know none.
Hey, I said I was a great bluffer though, right?
I walked into the hospital, shook some hands, took some pictures and met with the kids. Never have I seen brighter eyes and shining smiles. These kids thought themselves losers, lost to the sands of time due to the disease that has forced them into their own seclusion. And yet, they looked up to this loser right here for inspiration. Because I looked like them. Because I was dying like them. With them. It made them realize they are not alone.
…I hate Thunder for talking me into going, but maybe it was for the best.
It helped me to realize that I may be a failure in just about everything I do, but you know, I still have the ability to stand there and tell these kids who may die before me even that there is still hope. There is no hope. But to them, there is. And I see nothing wrong with giving them a glimpse of happiness, considering I myself am going to die from the same exact thing soon enough. Make their final days happy.
…but who knows, like that doc said, miracles do happen. And unlike me, those kids are good. Those kids are the ones who are the heroes and deserve to be looked up to. Not me. Those kids got my head as clear as it has been in a few weeks now.
I am sitting here in my room, in the total darkness, declaring that I AM GOING TO KEEP FIGHTING. No, you fools. Not fight the cancer. Thunder can f*ck off on that. I want to die. But I am going to fight to death. This cancer is going to kill me, so you know, I might as well fight like I am in someone elses body and kill myself even quicker. Mak Cross. Cam Nitta. David Williams. Samael Ahriman. Thunder. Dave Demento. These men need help. They have their abilities, but the wrath of Trace Demon is going to come down upon them something fierce for fighting on this side of the war.
I never wanted to be the leader of men, but it is a role I have been forced into because of unfortunate circumstances…mainly of my own doing. So I stand…well…sit, here today and say that I am going to take on the challenge of leading this rebellion against Trace Demon.
Thunder mentioned to me a few days ago that I at one point loved the company, and I had to remind him that loved was the key word, because there was nothing left for me to love. After all, the WFWF is a cesspool being run by the biggest sh*t in the sewer. I thought I was a terrible leader, Trace actually has some authoritative backing behind him. Congrats, biggest sh*t in the toilet we have as our commissioner.
…I feel like there is a poetry loving hipster out there snapping in appreciation of that comment. Speaking of which, gotta wonder what Cross is up to.
But back to my point. I now have my reason to fight. If my fighting back and giving those kids something to hope for can wind up being the best medicine for them and something to look forward for them, then who am I to deny them their chance at a miracle even if I do not necessarily believe in them myself? And who am I to leave these men left in my tutelage to rot due to my own selfish desires of a glorious death?
…and who was I to think that a glorious death would be dying with my lowered body weight in beer in my stomach in my hotel room in the middle of no where, Saskatchewan? Admit it, I make a fair point on that.
My first step in leading this resistance is to reestablish my credibility yet again. Not a big deal, that is something I have had to do countless times over the years because, while the credibility in my eyes is faux, people seem to believe it is the be all end all. And luckily, having mastered the art of bullcrapting, I know that I can accomplish this goal rather easy.
I get to step into the ring with Jayson Garrett this show. Now, I know just about everyone else reading this is asking ‘who?’ and for a good reason. The kid is essentially a no name. He prides himself on being some big Hollywood hot shot with the skills to match…but all he has proven to be so far is a solid F, with a .500 win percentage in the last couple of shows. Good for him.
…I jest. Truth be told, I have nothing against the kid. He is pompous, cocky, way too full of himself. Everything everyone is when they first come into this company. Unfortunately, I need a firm base for this rebellion I am building and he is as solid a stone as any to start this foundation upon. Shame, too. I know this kid, I know his type. He is going to give it his all and try to use my name as a stepping stone for bigger and better things, probably another shot at…vomits…Joe Bishop and the championship that would be better suited as a urine cake than something around the waist of anyone in this company.
But unfortunately, he will not get the opportunity to make himself look good because I have to make him look bad. He cannot win because I cannot lose. Simple as that. I finally have a reason to pull my dying ass from underneath the covers, and being the stubborn fool that I am, you know, I am not about to let that opportunity go to waste. I already did that once this month and wil throw myself off of the arena if I do that again. I promise you.
Sorry kid. I really wish they had given me someone more established to fight, so their credibility would not be completely shot when I win…but unfortunately in this game of Russian roulette, you lost the draw and have to be ‘that guy’ who loses to the old guy with cancer. No worries though, if it is any consolation, I will make sure to bury you with the shovel, because once you are dead and gone I will not have to bury anyone as bad as I have to do to you this show.
But I hope you try to fight though. It makes killing you a little less painful. SO come on kid, let us prove all of the skeptics wrong. Prove that I still got it. Prove that I can still do it. Prove that people fight in Canada.
…yeah…actually, even I do not believe that last part.
But I promise to make this as quick and painless as possible so you can be back on the plane to wherever you came from and you can go back to your everyday life of being a nothing, a no one. Trust me kid, it will be better for you. Think of this as I do my cancer. A blessing in disguise.
Enjoy the rest of your meaningless life. I shall see you off there man.
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