Horizon RP: A Real Fight, Water to Whiskey

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With all of Malakai’s estate details handled in full, one massive load has been removed from the shoulders of myself. In the past few days, this Katana Wielding Butch is taken to slowly reverting back to life as it was before I got involved in Malakai’s final wishes. Mind you, a lot has changed over the last few years; like the fact that I have a daughter growing at the speed of a Soap Opera character and I’m in a far better position in the WFWF…

…freaking title contention…

…than I was when I was sitting next to Alecia Matthews and the Calgary C*nt, calling matches and carrying the audience through rather abominable booking decisions by Trace Demon. I was trying to keep the viewership numbers up just enough to keep the company afloat so a paycheck would be directly deposited every week.

It would be a fair assessment in saying the commentary table, or rather I alone, kept Trace Demon from going bankrupt; presuming he doesn’t have some dank strip club with underage servers as backup income. Lord knows there’s a market for that, disgusting as it is. And, frankly, it shouldn’t surprise anyone if Demon partakes in such activities with his free time when not ruining the WFWF.

At least someone who I won't be teaming with this week like David Brennan, for example, has SOME morals.

Ok, that was a terrible joke. Someone’s going to have an aneurysm if this left my head; and we already have enough death in the WFWF right now. Looking at you, Frank Lynn.

The setting is surprisingly beautiful right now considering the absolutely dog sh*t the north east has suffered through this summer. Sam is sitting on the back porch of his house.

Sipping on a Crystal Pepsi and taking a hit off of my Releaux 200s vape, the delicious taste of Hawk Sauce on the tip of my tongue. Sent directly from Seattle, almost as glorious a sensation coursing through my body as the other product of Seattle I smoked a few months back. Wonder where Kyzer is at now? Probably in a secret bunker ready to f*ck Drakz at any moment. God knows Drakz is the consummate bitch, even this week. Let's be honest here. This tag team match? This isn’t to benefit Drakz. Josh. Cam. Me. This is just to make sure the once entirely solidified unit of the Saviors and the remnants of the Konspiracy fall in on each other and that Drakz gets caught in the crossfire so Trace can get his hands on that WFWF Championship.

Anyone with the brain the size of Makoto Nishiyama’s dream tits during a crossplay of his flavor of the month junior high ecchi graphic novel has pulled the curtains back on this, revealing the smoke and mirrors Trace Demon is hiding behind. Seriously. Why would Trace want to partner with me? This is the only remotely positive thing Trace has ever thrown my way; and that's literally nothing new. I’ve been dealing with this since...well...when did Demon take charge again? The only time I have a fair shake when it comes to Trace Demon is when it benefits ‘The King’ or when he has no say or is overruled by Lila. Or by Thunder way back in the day. Trace has mental control, but whenever he’s had an executive style role his balls are normally controlled by someone else; hence why he plays games with those smaller than him like Isaac Cray.

Enough of my internal thoughts for now.

As Sam vapes and sips like a legit boss, Phoe is sitting on the bench next to him; her legs up on his lap, both watching Anna in the yard.

Since Shawn’s death, Sam and Phoe have grown incredibly close once more. He’s still engulfed in the WFWF and his mind is not always where it should be, but he’s finally starting to not be as tense as he had been for the last few…well…years. He isn’t as cold. He isn’t as absent minded. If anything, he’s becoming the man she fell in love with as a teenager. Mind you that love came from a bad case of Florence Nightingale Syndrome, and about a decade later Sam would walk in on her making the beast with two backs with another guy which lead to divorce but hey, people can change right? Sam has to live with a visible facial scar that makes many turn away and nerve damage to his hand so severe he forever has to wear a brace for ulnar nerve dysfunction; but what’s the point of holding a grudge against the mother of your daughter when you can be at least a little forgiving?

Truth be told, Sam’s just enjoying the nostalgia. Good drink, potential full blown rekindled relationship…life’s good if you forget that the WFWF exists, to the point where Sam is beginning to enjoy the thought of abandoning that cancerous place after SuperBrawl and starting his new life. He’s already taken out a loan and begun hiring contractors to repurpose an old firehouse in Ira into a Kendo school. He taught Kendo before WFWF, but now with his fame through wrestling; people will flock to this quaint little cul-de-sac in Vermont for lessons. And his first pupil is the young woman in the grass, working on her men-uchi form, about twenty strikes per minute.

Phoe: She’s getting pretty good.

Samael: For sure. Hopefully she keeps up this level of intensity, I would love for an Ahriman family run studio. Father, master. Daughter, second instructor.

Phoe: Well, not the whole Ahriman family. I can’t fight for sh*t.

Sam over exaggerates movement of his right arm, making sure Phoe sees the brace.

Samael: I’ve noticed.

Phoe lifts a leg lightly from his lap and hits his thigh with her heel.

Phoe: F*ck off. You CHOSE to save ME, remember?

Samael: Because I totally intended on letting those guys force you into that alley at knife point. Forgive me for making light of the traumatic experience only you endured. Christ, my scar is throbbing.

Phoe: Next time it won’t be your thigh.

Samael: I love when pain dissipates so quickly.

Phoe: Uh huh.

They watch their daughter throw a few more swings before taking a quick break for a drink.

Phoe: She wants to wrestle, Sam. She loves Kendo, but she wants in that ring the moment she’s old enough.

Samael: I watched Scarlett Quinn reach the lowest point of her life, week after week. I had no horse in that race, so I just kicked back and enjoyed the show. But I’ll be damned if I let my daughter wrestle.

Phoe: But much like Wayne, it’s not like you’re going to have that much of a choice. She’s a determined thing.

Samael: Determination is good. Determination gets you places.

Phoe: …like the WFWF. In a title match.

Samael: I chose my path out of necessity, Anna has a luxury you and I didn’t, and she has that luxury because of all of my broken bones, scars and gallons of blood that are still soaking some trashed canvas in a landfill somewhere. Anna can go to college. Or she can teach Kendo. Hell, she can run for President some day. Clearly that job is ANYONE’S for the taking.

Phoe: And if that luxury of choice brings her to the doorstep of Lila Sleater?

Samael: Then I cut off her legs. My sword’s got a sharp edge in case of emergencies.

Phoe: SAM.

Samael: It was a joke. Jesus. You’re worse at taking it that a red light worker.

Anna: Hey dad!

Sam takes his eyes off of Phoe momentarily to look at Anna, holding her shanai on her shoulder.

Anna: I need a sparring partner.

Samael: Alright.

Sam removes Phoe’s legs from his lap and rises, stretching his sides and arms and grabbing his own shanai when Anna stops him.

Anna: No. Sakabato.

Samael: You’re kidding, right?

Anna: I want to fight you for real.

Samael: Sparring for real with me requires the shanai, not my real sword. You want me to go my best against you, I’m not using the real one.

Anna: Come on you f*ck, be a man.

Sam is taken aback, but smiles, shrugs and sets his shanai to rest and picks up the Sakabato. He looks over at Phoe as he goes down the steps of the porch.

Samael: Teenagers scare the living sh*t outta me.

Phoe: **singing lightly** They can care less…

Sam rolls his eyes and hops to the ground. He takes the reverse blade sword out of its sheathe and walks towards his daughter, who is twirling the Kendo stick handle in a fluid circle. She raises above her head as Sam stands at attention, clutching the hilt tightly.

Samael: You’d almost look intimidating if you weren’t so darn cute.

Phoe: **from the porch** Play fair, kids.

Sam looks up to her.

Samael: Kids…?

His words trail off as he swiftly dodges to the left, Anna attempting to drive the stick down straight to his head.

Samael: Hey now, that wasn’t fair!

Anna: Aren’t you the one always telling me a real fight is never fair, and to never let your guard down?

Samael: Of course. But when sparring you have respect for your opponent, you have discipline and respect your opponent.

Anna: I told you I wanted a real fight. I’m not going to get any better without a moving target.

Samael: I once told my master that same thing.

Anna: How did he respond?

Samael smiles, hooking her arm which forces her to drop the shanai; he then grabs the back of her belt loop and flips her onto the ground as lightly as he can muster, ending by pointing Sakabato at her ribs.

Samael: Like that, except it actually hurt me.

He reaches down to pull her up. She grabs his hand, but with her spare hand she grabs her Kendo stick from the ground and cracks Sam in the shoulder causing him to drop her. She kips up, both now pointing their respective swords at the other. She really did want a fight. She’s got raw potential to make it in the WFWF athletically and with that spunk. Sam’s ready to puke. A lengthy stalemate ensues, Sam and Anna not once breaking their locked eyes until Phoe calls out from the porch.

Phoe: Anna, your phone is going crazy. Sam, yours too.

Both warriors drop their guards, Sam patting Anna on the shoulder and ushering her to the porch as he retrieves his sheathe.

Phoe: Is it who I think it is, Anna?

Anna: Mhm.

Sam ascends the steps, leaning Sakabato against the wall and grabbing his phone.

Samael: Girl friend?

Phoe: Boooooooooooooyfriend.

Anna: SHUT UP.

Anna’s face is almost as red as her hair. Sam’s jaw hits the floor, clearly never expecting his daughter to take interest in other human beings for the rest of her life.

Samael: Well, at least it’s a guy.

Anna: Would you have a problem if it weren’t?

Considering all of the similarities she’s exhibiting to Scarlett Quinn, Anna deciding she liked women wouldn’t be any kind of problem personally but déjà vu would be beating him in the f*cking face with a blunt object.

Samael: I have a problem that they’re breathing. Couldn’t care less about the equipment. I’m a Satanist, we support all forms of debauchery. Guess I need to play the first obligatory dad card and get inquisitive, what’s his name?

Anna: …uhm…Aaron…

Samael: Do I know this Aaron?

Phoe: **crossing a leg, a sh*t eating grin on her face** Well, you know his dad VERY well.

Sam ponders for a moment before the lightbulb goes off.

Samael: F*cking hell. Thunder’s son?

Anna: …and so what if he is…?

Well, that’s just another potential WFWF connection Sam’s going to have to sever, this time John Wayne Bobbitt style if necessary.

Samael: Because I can’t pull the second f*cking protective dad card and scare off a suitor for my daughter with my collection of very, very sharp Japanese swords that can supposedly cut through steel. He already knows.

Anna: It’s supposed to be you shining and brandishing a rifle you killed a bear with. Come on, you’re still TECHNICALLY American.

Phoe: Doesn’t mean you can’t put the fear of god into him?

Samael: I fought Thunder once. I don’t need a wise ass reminder that his dad can beat **pointing at Anna** your dad. Again.

Anna sends a quick reply back, probably something like LOL then 100, winkey face or whatever the f*ck emoticons people use today. Oh, wait, they’re called emojis? Dear god.

She opens up what is clearly the WFWF app up next because self righteous prick Trace Demon had the developers use his theme for the app notifications. She looks to her father, she’s almost in a cold sweat. What’s going on here?

Anna: Dad, check your push notification.

Samael: Push wh…nevermind. WFWF app. Stupid music, loa...Trace Demon Out at Horizon…

Samael sits down in his chair, taking a sip of his drink and a puff, crossing his leg and laughing.

Samael: Should have known he’d be too cheap.

Anna: Huh?

Phoe: Probably some reference to Trace being too cheap to buy Sam dinner before he…ahem…well…

Samael: F*cked me, I don’t even f*cking care.

Phoe: That’s a lie. You get sarcastic when you’re angry.

Samael: My grave sense of humor returns when I’m angry. Ya know, I should have seen this coming. Feigning the injury at Defiance to remove himself from further altercation, f*ck I got blindsided. Whew. Good on ya, man. You outsmarted me.

Anna: But it’s a title match next week, why would he fake it to get out?

Samael: It wasn’t about the title for him. He’s held every title in the WFWF. Some, numerous times. This is entirely about making sure Drakz, Cam, Josh and myself are in no shape to compete for the WFWF Championship and that leaves only Trace Demon there to ‘save’ us from not having a champ. That f*cking c*nt. I don’t even want to read the drivel, is the match still on?

Anna: Yes.

Samael: So a handicap match. The supposed cripple handicapping a real slight cripple. What a surprise. He pulled this sh*t with Shawn, Thunder and anyone else who has ever stood in his way. What else does it say?

Anna: Well it’s not a handicap match.

Samael: Wait, what?

Anna: **speaking, mocking Trace Demon’s voice with a terrible cockney mixed with an appalling Canadian imitation** “Rest assured that I have been working tirelessly to ensure that the WFWF World Tag Team Championship match will still go on as planned, and have found a worthy replacement to team alongside Samael Ahriman that we will announce very soon. Hopefully this reassurance that the show will go on will be some solace to all of the WFWF faithful that will be so highly disappointed with the huge match that Ahriman has deprived you of.”

Samael: I’m not sure what’s more laughable, the fact that I supposedly injured him to the point where the fans are ‘deprived’ of seeing him, considering every time he gets smacked around the arena loses its top; or that he handpicked his replacement.

Phoe: Well that’s good though, right? At least you’ll have a partner.

Anna: Better make sure that partner has a pulse when you hit the ring.

Samael: It’s either a blow up doll or a pile of bones to mock me.

Directors note, the pile of bones comment is totally intended to represent Shawn Malakai, but it could also fit the description of Trevor Wolf since he’s figuratively and literally dead to the WFWF.

Phoe: So, what are you going to do?

Anna: What he always does. Fight.

Samael: A real fight.

Sam lifts his hand up to fistbump his daughter, who reciprocates.

Anna: So who are you hoping for?

Samael: I can deal with just about anyone on the roster. I’m legitimately curious who would agree to something Demon set up, even if it’s for the titles. Most of the roster hates Trace, or are too green to be jaded, even the egg man. Just…well, just not Brennan. Anyone but David Brennan would be sensational. I don’t need a repeat of last week. Show up late, drunk, beat up on a rookie and disappear…I need something serious. But knowing Trace…


It’s about an hour before showtime for Horizon. Samael is pacing around the locker room, getting himself ready. No sign of Drakz, Dean, Stone or his partner; the latter of which is…ya know, a problem. All of the aforementioned parties have checked in as necessary, so at least David Brennan is a step ahead of when he stomped out Dachslmania last week. However, following the intriguing interaction Sam just had between Chris Myers and David Brennan only a few hours ago (which y’all should really go read), Sam is incredibly anxious. He’s normally the mysterious one, but David Brennan is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, induction sealed into a potentially mislabeled bottle of whiskey, water or PLX depending on the situation.

Samael: ...f*cking hell, where is he?

??: You check the nearest brothel?

Samael: We’re talking about Brennan here, Nitta. Not Donnie Kent. Or Tyrion Lannister, considering you’re as big a dweeb as me and can appreciate the reference.

Entering the locker room is NOT the person Sam wanted to see. Well, seeing WFWF’s resident weeabo (suppose he’s the second now with the cross dresser) is always a pleasure, but y’all get the point, right?

Nitta: I do. Laughing in the face of adversity, you’re definitely ready for a fight tonight.

Samael: This is a total clusterf*ck. I KNEW Demon would try to bend me specifically over while trying to blow up the entire WFWF Championship scene at the same time, but David Brennan?

Nitta: You hate Brennan that much?

Samael: Not at all. I always want to win, but especially tonight FOR Brennan. Call it good karma if you believe in such a thing. Guy deserves to one up Drakz and take a title while he’s at it. Doesn’t mean I like him though. I honestly don’t hate anyone in this company anymore. They’re not worth caring about. SuperBrawl is my last hoorah so I’m basically checking out of Lunatic 6. But I’ve still got a little bit of emotion left in this black hole of mine, just enough to muster up driving this sword through the chest of Trace Demon.

Nitta: Not Drakz? Or Dean? Or Stone?

Samael: They’re collateral damage for the remnants of Hurricane Samael. The eye of the storm has been focused on Demon for quite a while now, even if it costs me my Grand Slam dream, or a third reign at being Tag Team Champion...even if I’ve gotta defend them solo Yukio Blaze style.

Nitta: You so sure Brennan won’t show?

Samael: Nah, he’ll show. If anyone has a bone to pick with Dean and Drakz not named Samael Ahriman it’s David. I’m just concerned about the condition in which he’s gonna show up in though.

Nitta: Reasonable.

Samael: David has a massive opportunity at SuperBrawl. Whether he realizes it or not, he’s just as much in the battle to take down Trace Demon as I am the moment he steps into that ring with Lucas Crowe at SuperBrawl. He has a massive opportunity this week at revenge and to put the boot firmly to Trace’s throat by making his plan to sandbag me by p*ssyfooting around with a fake injury backfire EPICLY and take those tag titles, his first title ever. From Drakz. But the way he showed up for his match with Dachs last week, it’s a wonder Lila didn’t suspend him. No check in, observantly drunk and then just bailing. He’s hardly been the face of professionalism but come on. Don’t f*ck this up for yourself man.

Nitta: You said observantly. When isn’t Brennan drunk? I’m pretty sure his blood type is Jack Daniels at this point.

Samael: That’s the thing…I don’t think he was drunk last week. Or piss drunk, anyways. Hey, hand me my top on the hanger.

Nitta grabs the top of Sam’s bushido and hands it over, but he puts a hand on Sam’s forehead before he backs away.

Nitta: You’ve gotta have one of those 24 hour bugs or something.

Samael: Probably SARS.

Nitta: I’m not even Chinese, but racist joke aside…did you not actually watch that sh*t with Dachs?

Sam ties himself into his top and begins wrapping the sash around his hips.

Samael: I met with Chris Myers earlier today.

Nitta: Oh?

Samael: Yeah. I didn’t expect to gameplan with Brennan or anything, but I wanted to make sure there would at least be a warm body in my corner and make sure I wasn’t going to have to wrestle with a dead body or something. After a while of waiting and contemplating slitting my wrists from small talk, in comes David Brennan finally.

A girls voice is heard from the outside, entering the room, Sam unable to finish his thought to Nitta.

??: Did he smell like a distillery? That’s usually Brennan’s calling card.

Penny Shannon wanders into the room, clearly she’s lost.

Samael: Uhh…men’s locker room, Penny.

Penny: You act like I care. Cute. Not my type, remember? But if you’re uncomfortable with a hot girl seeing you put your freaking boots on, I can leave with my valuable intel.

Nitta: Unless your intel is on Brennan’s whereabouts, or that you poisoned Drakz’s personal catering, I’m not entirely sure Sam cares if we’re being honest.

Penny: Listen, just because my ex girlfriend stole what you feel was your WFWF Championship, doesn’t mean you have to be so hostile towards me. I’m not the enemy here.

Debatable.

Penny and Nitta get toe to toe when Sam lifts the sheathe of Sakabato up splitting the two apart.

Samael: She’s right, Cam. And Penny, you should be a little less aggressive. This neo-feminism sh*t you’re putting on for show is great but you really can’t put on that act when you’re trying to be serious.

Nitta backs away and Shannon crosses her arms.

Penny: Fine. You want my info or not?

Nitta: Depends. Is it relevant?

Samael: Enough, Cam. Sit down and shut up or go get ready for your match. Word of warning, Quenton is wandering around; I’ve a feeling he wants…words…with you.

Penny: Awwwwwww now why’d you have to warn him?

Nitta slaps Sam’s hand and whispers in his ear below the audible level for Penny.

Nitta: Don’t trust her, she’s still with them.

Sam looks at Nitta out of the corner of his eye to see if there’s any inkling of lying on his face. Dead serious. It’s funny, if it’s really pondered, that Penny would want to help Sam. After all, Samael has spent the better part of his career making her life miserable while borderline sexually harassing her ex girlfriend. He was assuming Penny saw the light of Dean and Cam’s actions and was willing to help him, but Nitta’s words are now going to remain etched in his head and everything she says will be taken with less than a grain of salt.

Samael: Got it. Thanks, Cam. Future is good people, y’all should be pretty successful tonight.

Nitta: Here’s hoping old man. See ya.

Samael: Deuces.

Nitta walks past Shannon on his way out of the locker room, just barely brushing shoulders with her; conveniently ensuring his hair was covering his eye so she couldn’t see him staring daggers at her, but he could certainly see her.

Nitta is right for Sam to be cautious here. Shannon’s never given Sam a reason to trust her. She’s always been the snake of the Society and while that faction may be technically as dead as Seiryu Shimizu’s short lived career, a spade will always be a spade.

Samael: So what’s this intel?

Penny: There isn’t any. I just needed you alone to talk with you privately about tonight.

Samael: I appreciate the olive branch you’re extending, but don’t you have Dex to worry about later? I mean that’s why you’re even in the arena tonight, to accept or decline his offer for a match at SuperBrawl? God knows you’re going to accept it, you’ve never been one to back down from a man giving you attitude. I say that as a witness and a victim.

Penny: That, and there’s a lot going on in that little main event you’re in tonight. A lot I have personal stake in.

Samael: Gunning for the world title after we both dispose of men with the little D’s?

Penny can’t help but giggle at the juvenile euphemism.

Penny: Maybe. Maybe, somehow after SuperBrawl, we’ll finally get that one on one match. I mean you gave one to Stone, Scarlett and Demento. You’re on the path to fight Dean, that leaves me as the last member of the Saviors who you haven’t tangled with.

Samael: I doubt you’d be too interested in getting tangled the way I’m thinking, so I’m going to have to pass.

Penny: I have a girlfriend. Like I said, you’re not my type.

Samael: Hey, I THINK I do too. I meant in with the enemy.

Penny: We both know exactly what we meant.

Hey, he’s not married and she’s hot. Lesbian or not, can’t blame a guy for trying, even if he covered up his unsurprising lust with a poignant truth about the situation both of these stars are placed in. Niceties aside, they’re still the enemy of the other.

Penny: I’m just happy you didn’t turn into one of Scarlett’s drunken mistakes. I was worried after Shawn died, ya know, even if she’s with someone. She’s prone to be a little skanky.

Samael: Right now, Scar’s calling you black in every language that woman knows.

The joke’s so over her head it clears Delta airspace.

Samael: Ahem. Anyways. Business. If you’ve got something to spill on Dean and Stone, spill it now or forever hold your peace.

Penny: Before I came into the room, you and Nitta were talking about Brennan. You said there was something different about him. You didn’t respond to my distillery remark. What’s the scoop?

Sam asks about Dean and Stone, her comrades in arms and she asks about Brennan so nonchalantly when she’s stating that her only intent is to aid Sam. That’s totally not suspicious, the topic only changed over quicker than a Josh Dean WFWF Championship reign.

Come on Sam, give her NO info. Or the bare minimum. Don’t let on what you’re thinking.

….save that to pad the monologue….

Samael: Yeah, he stank like old liquor. I almost keeled over.

Penny: Disruptive as usual?

Samael: Eh, late to the party you could say. He’s always obnoxious and loud so, I mean if you want to consider that disruptive then sure.

Penny: Psh. Typical.

YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES! SHE BOUGHT THE (partial) LIE. Or rather, the not whole truth. Point for the sadist Satanist, nil for the hot lesbian.

Samael: Ok, I scratched your back. Your turn.

Penny: Scratched my back? I have personal investment in the outcome of this match because I value Josh as a friend, and Josh values Cam and Scarlett values you. This whole situation is like playing hot potato with a hand grenade with friends of friends and so on. It’s deeply concerning.

Samael examines her words and body language. She’s not COMPLETELY lying. She gains serious headway or loses a lot of traction depending on the outcome if they’re all still as close as Sam believes them to be. But her concern is a fallacy. She’s still their snake.

Samael: You know what I mean. You’ve gotta give me something.

Penny: **sighing** Believe it or not, Cam and Josh don’t hate you as vehemently as you hate them to this day. They almost consider you a friend. After the battle last week between you three, they came back for you before Drakz could get his mits on you.

Probably because they wanted to dismantle him themselves.

Samael: This is true, they in fact did. Curious, as I’m Dean’s opponent and Stone has to ref this debacle. Wouldn’t you say?

She’s squirming.

Samael: And moreover, Dean may very well hate Drakz and not want to tag with him. But he loves that title around his waist nonetheless, eh? So it’s not like he’ll throw himself to the floor for an easy screw of Drakz. David Williams, Trevor Wolf, Frank Lynn and Mike Jette all found that out the hard way.

Penny’s about to crawl out of her skin.

Samael: And Cam, I don’t doubt that he wants to stick it to Drakz, so costing him the tag titles would be glorious. BUT. He wants to keep his WFWF Championship match at SuperBrawl, and no way in hell Demon lets him keep that shot if he does ANYTHING fishy to hurt Drakz’s fragile ego. Plus, Josh and I have also laid claim to the WFWF Championship as Drakz has literally f*cked both of us at one point or another, while Stone is technically the number one contender. **raises hand** Why not take out at least one member of the group on a collision course for that belt and appease more people who have sway?

Penny has had enough. She shoots out of her seat and starts balking at Sam.

Penny: What in the f*cking hell is your problem, Sam? You’re so goddamned suspicious of every single thing. Sure Trace loves playing games, that’s why he threw in a wild card like David Brennan. But the whole goal is to break up the unity you three have shown so Drakz is left out to dry for Trace to pick apart on his own. You can’t be dumb enough to not realize that.

Samael: I realized that the moment he made the match, even before he chickened out of being my partner. Believe it or not some guys actually think with the correct head, Penny.

Penny: Then why are you so gungho that the old Saviors are out to get you, at least worse than Demon and Drakz?

Sam stands, purposely bumping shoulders with Penny unlike Nitta who was at least polite about it.

Samael: Because this is a fight. A real fight. And there is more at stake tonight than the WFWF Tag Team Championships. There will be more at stake at SuperBrawl than the WFWF Championship. Suffice it to say, the Saviors are as much out to get me still even disbanded as the Konspiracy is out to get them.

Penny: Do you seriously mean…

Samael: The war between the Saviors of Society and the KoKaine Konspiracy never hit its climax. It just evolved to include Trace Demon, Drakz and now David Brennan. And even if I’m the last surviving member of the Konspiracy, I will not leave a Savior standing when all is said and done. They’ll join Drakz and eventually Trace in the bottom of the Sparta hole.

Sam looks back at Penny, who’s catching flies in her mouth as he picks up Sakabato and puts it in his wrap.

Samael: Kick back and enjoy the show, Penny. The armistice is over, it’s time for us to return to war.

He opens the door and walks halfway out, refusing to face her.

Samael: Or perhaps it never truly ended, like you may think. And keep an eye on your friends…I have a sword, but one of them has a knife. Gonna be exciting to find out who!

He closes the door, leaving Penny inside. He brushes off his bushido from the Savior filth that was breathed onto it and looks both ways, hoping to see Brennan. No dice. Guess it’s a waiting game now.

Samael: Glad I called her bluff. Glad she doesn’t know the whole truth about Brennan to rat to Dean.

A Sam begins to make his way to the waiting area for the show to start, he catches glimpse of a man with a long, scraggly beard wearing sunglasses walking into one of the storage rooms. It takes him a second to piece together where he had seen the man before.

Boy oh boy had he seen him many times.

Samael: Well this just got a hell of a lot more interesting.

Sam begins whistling “When You Wish Upon a Star” softly as he disappears down the hallway, ready for just about anything tonight.


I’ve got a daughter who wants to be a wrestler, who's apparently dating a guy who is considering wrestling, who is the son of a wrestler himself. I'm nearing my retirement and my ability to stop her is slipping away. Personal life wise, things couldn’t be going equally as good and as down the f*cking drains as they are right now. So let’s focus on my professional life before I stab something.

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be fighting Josh Dean, I would have believed you. Cameron Stone? Yep. Drakz? Well, I’ve been after his ass since 2012. But if you would have told me that not only would I be fighting Josh Dean and Drakz in the same match for the tag team championships, I would have thought you crazy. What possible reason could Dean and Drakz have for teaming up? Sure, we disliked each other, Dean and myself, but we had a common enemy and that was Drakz.

The KoKaine Konspiracy and the Saviors of Society hated each other, and for good reason. Tugarin and myself were on top of the world and the Saviors fought till their last breath…well, Demento’s, to bring that juggernaut of a tag team down. The thing is, we were also always keeping our eyes on the likely sexual bond between Drakz and Trace Demon; both sides trying to fight corruption, the Saviors by being these goody wrestlers who stuck to the moral line and the Konspiracy trying to bring Drakz and Demon down by corrupting the corrupted system.

That’s why, whenever Tugarin and Ante took that long walk down the dusty trail, and I had finally slain Michael Kyzer, it made sense for the remnants of the SoS and KKK to team up. Enemy of my enemy sort of thing. Put the battle between the two of us on pause to conquer the bigger evil, then continue our battle for supremacy at a later date. It was just too perfect a scenario that Drakz and Demon couldn’t have possibly predicted; the group of us teaming up to topple them. Alone, we were not very threatening but as a group of our own we were a severe threat to the power trip those douchebags are still on. So my brain went, what the hell, let’s play the role of the good guy one more time and see if we can’t accomplish more together than we had done alone.

But, of course, greed got involved. Let’s be honest…you don’t get into the WFWF without the desire to be the top dog. You won’t get anywhere if you don’t desire to be the best at whatever you’re doing, and to achieve your goal at any cost is exactly what you need to do to survive your journey to the top. So, I suppose I owe Cameron Stone as much of a round of applause as I do a sword through his neck. He did what they had to do. Stone sold his soul to the devil to get a WFWF Championship match, the dream everyone in this business has but few get to actually realize.

FYI I hope Drakz stomps your face in when you two square off at SuperBrawl seeing as I won’t be able to stomp both of your faces off. At least Drakz is an honest c*nt, never hiding his true motivations even when he was attempting to use that ‘Good Guy Drakz’ persona that everyone sans Dean saw through. But that’s Cam, and he’s the ref this week. He’ll find some way to keep his match even if it means sucking Demon’s c*ck while counting the pin…because you’re already in bed with him, might as well give him some action.

But…what exactly has Josh Dean gotten out of the whole situation? So he takes the titles off of me and Tugarin, ok. Demento pulls a Paul Walker the same night so the titles are vacated. In the finals of the subsequent tournament, Tugarin abandons Drakz so Drakz has to pick someone to replace his absentee partner and he goes with Josh. Mind you at this time, Drakz was still trying to fool everyone into thinking he was the nicest guy this side of Heaven, and that stupid idiot bought what Drakz was selling and agreed to be his partner. But what has occurred since then is almost laughable regarding Dean, if it weren’t so pathetic. He gets a tag title with a partner who is liable to jump off of a roof depending on what he’s on that day, not unlike Demento. He finally gets that world title match which is admittedly an accomplishment but he allows himself to have his nads chopped off because everyone saw Dick Drakz coming from a mile away…ok, Demon and Crowe had a slight hand in it but ya know, small details. If you’re supposed to be this grizzled veteran, you shouldn’t act so f*cking green.

So now your own stupidity and ignorance have you forced into tag team battles where Drakz is hoping to retain, but is feeding you to the fish at the same time. Try and tell me he wasn’t hoping Williams, Wolf, Jette and Lynn weren’t would rip your head off and he could just pick up the scraps of the lesser talent.

…if you seriously don’t believe that, then I’ve got a bridge I can sell you because it seems as if you’ll buy anything.

So here’s the question I ask you, Dean. If your hatred of Drakz runs as deep as mine, why the hell can’t you fake it Trace Demon style? You’re a more believable actor. You were put into a predicament where Trace and Drakz were keeping you honest so to say, your career could have been on the line. I can respect not backing out…but why fight so hard? Why not use some good acting and let Wolf take you out with The Final Howl? Not too many people can get up from that, just ask Jon O’Deeves. If Drakz comes in for the save, then he’s the one basically in the handicap match, not you. You’ve got no brains, dude. I may have a sinister mind but you should at least have common sense.

Unless…

Unless you’re almost as much of a sadist as me. You relish in the emotional agony Drakz is putting you through because of the greed caused by gold.

That’s exactly it, isn’t it? Drakz could bend you over and tell you to take it and you would…and have…just to keep that gold around your waist. You’re a greedy son of a bitch. I could normally respect that, taking what you want is one of Satanism’s basic principles. But you’re only in the position to be greedy because of Drakz. You’d literally be no where in the WFWF without Drakz. Take the Saviors and your battles away, you’re probably opening SuperBrawl against Big McLargehuge. Hell, when I beat you this week that might just be your fate, if Demon doesn’t terminate you first. Hell of an ending to Josh Dean either way, if you ask me. And that means only one thing. Your loss this week means that in the battle between the Saviors of Society and the KoKaine Konspiracy, nay the war, I win.

As for Drakz…good god this is like the neverending f*cking story. At what point does Trace Demon let you hop on your flying dog thing and get the f*ck out of here? Man…how long have we been going at it? Four years? The night you stole something very precious to me, my first championship. Back in the old days when The New Epoch was running the show, you had yourself, Brennan, Kyzer and Ace Bennett and you guys were dominating; I won’t deny. But then you started imploding, disposing of David Brennan like a used tampon and all but forcing Ace out of the WFWF entirely because he realized he wasn’t quite cut out for your f*ck lifestyle. That left you and Kyzer against Raider and the only man with the balls to step up and defend the WFWF Tag Team Championships with him. I’ll admit, we were outmatched. At the time, you were better and Raider was old as sh*t. No competition. But the fact remains that you took from me something precious, my first ever championship. I’ll never let that one go.

But karma’s a bitch and so are you, because following your highway robbery Kyzer stole from you something even more precious than my title; a year of your career. Did you hear your back snap as you went down? Because I did. It was sickening. It was scary. It was so beautiful I could have kissed the sound. It still makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

Fastforward to Black Hole Sun, a few years later. You’re recovered and uncovered for being the self righteous prick we all knew you were. You had a bone to pick with me because I took something precious from you, like you did to me. You took my WFWF Tag Team Championship, and I took your chance at being the one to take out Michael Kyzer. Your misery and hate of the fact that you weren’t the one to land that final blow to the career of the man who tried costing you yours is energy I still feed off of. I’ll tell you what, Isaac. I’ll let you know how I felt going into Black Hole Sun. I felt like I was the greatest man alive, because…well…I am. The fans think so, my daughter thinks so, my ex wife thinks so the nights we get to spend together…hell, even lesbians think so. But regarding you and me, I knew I was greater for one reason alone. You have more accolades, you have more household name references and you’ve got more STDs…but on that night you did not have that almost erotic feeling of euphoria that came from me slicing and dicing Kyzer to pieces, ensuring he could never, ever return to the WFWF and that you could never get your revenge. Keep your records and accolades, I’ll keep the one thing you can’t take from me that you wanted more than ANYTHING in the world.

And when I stepped into that cage with you, I knew I had the upper hand. Sure, I knew you were going to cheat…I mean, barring Stone and Wolf from ringside meant Crowe was at some point going to f*ck me like the hooker Trace Demon thinks you are; but for the first time since I can remember seeing, someone had the psychological advantage over you. Your chance at revenge against Kyzer: gone because of me. Your record WFWF Championship streak: over because of my interference. I had nothing to lose when I walked in there other than a match I weaseled myself into by pissing you off. You had a score to settle. Two scores, actually. That made you damaged goods, and without Crowe you would have been shattered glass because on top of everything else you would have lost yet another thing you held dear to me.

So what do you have now that I can take? Surely you don’t value your comradery with Josh Dean to fear breaking up after you lose. You’re not afraid of Cameron Stone, so if I randomly go off the rails and chop that Canadian C*nt up like a maple flavored pork roast you won’t care because you’re winning that match anyways. Buuuuuuuuuuut you do have a nice little record going for you. I’m pretty bad with math, but I’m pretty darn sure you’d love to somehow show off the length of your Little Demon and conquer the WFWF Tag Team Championship record of The King of Douchebags and the Degenerate who somehow got himself a WFWF Championship reign. It’d be a REAL shame if I took that away from you too. Even more so, it would be just a damn travesty if I allowed the product of Trace Demon’s chickensh*t attitude be the reason you lose one of your belts. I don’t even need the satisfaction of being the one who puts your shoulders to the mat; it’ll feel better if the man you exiled and used and f*cked worse than Demon does to you win his first ever championship at your expense. Full mother*ckin’ circle.

Speaking of which…

I began this by saying ‘If you told me a year ago’ yada yada, I didn’t quite finish. Allow me to put the cherry on top. If you would have told me a year ago that I would be standing in the ring with David Brennan, I’d believe you. If you would have told me that I would be standing in the corner of David Brennan, attempting to capture WFWF tag team gold with him I probably would have stabbed you through the skull because at least no brains would have gotten on my sword.

Brennan has been the epitome of scum since he came into the WFWF. He’s a disgrace to everything WFWF used to stand for, which explains why he stood alongside Drakz and Kyzer. Constantly boozed up when kids were trying to enjoy the programming, terrible. Allowing the usage of F*CKING BEAR MACE to blind and defeat Mak Cross to attain Survival of the Fittest, deplorable. Mak was one of the most promising talents the WFWF has had in over a decade, and all that did was solidify his fall from grace. Good job, ass.

But ever since his return, he’s been even worse. Showing up late if even showing at all. Attempting to wrestle while piss drunk. Continuing to steamroll through new guys almost as bad as Phillip Schneider.

There’s something different about the most recent version of David Brennan though. I wasn’t quite able to put my finger on it until my meeting with Myers and Bren earlier today. Last week he pulled another one of his stunts on poor Dachs, and I thought ‘Here we go again. Off the rails, as if he’s ever been on.’ But he seemed…different in that match. And his attitude during the meeting, which he showed up late for as usual, and you could smell the booze before he even walked in the door. I was borderline ready to forfeit tonight’s match and try to torment Drakz into a match next week after his actions. It wasn’t until after Brennan left, forgetting his bottle of Jack behind on the table that I realized I wanted to win this match.

I said I wanted to let Brennan to be the one to take Drakz down, no? How sweet that would taste, allowing Brennan to slay my monster for me and get his own cheer for sweet revenge while he was at it? Yeah. I’m totally behind that idea after the meeting concluded and I took a shot of that Jack, Black Label nonetheless, with Myers.

There’s a reason I refused to tell Penny Shannon anything about my meeting beyond Brennan smelling like stale liquor. I knew she was going to run to Dean and Stone and tell them whatever I said, because the war is still ongoing and every good war needs a spy, so I may as well give her the ‘not full truth.’ What exactly was going through my, and Myers mind after that shot.

David Brennan, I still don’t like you. Your actions of the past are irreprehensible, but then again some could say the same of mine. But we both have vices. We both have a score to settle with Drakz, and stick it up Demon’s ass while we’re at it. We have enough in common that we could co exist for at least one night to achieve a common goal. Take down Drakz, and get you your first ever championship WFWF history.

We can do it. Good god I know we can do it. I want to see how glorious you look being crowned champion for the first time, and at the expense of our enemy.

You can do it, Bren. You can do it because of what I purposely didn’t tell Penny Shannon. Your secret weapon. How exactly I know you’re going to be at the top of your game in that ring tonight. How exactly I know we can win this real fight. I’m not sure what’s gotten into you, caused this change but maybe there’s hope for you yet, at least that’s the impression I got after leaving Myers to stew in his own thoughts also.

Motherf*cker, you’re actually sober. Ish.

Now let’s go win us some titles before you change your mind and turn that water back to whiskey.

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