Loaded RP: One Step Forward

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The WFWF asked me to start doing these travel diaries about a year ago so, after keeping them suitably in suspense and waiting until they started ripping their hair out in frustration (I do not kid, the WFWF officers are now full of bald people and none of them can pull it off) I figured I’d actually get down to things. It’s nothing to do with feeling slightly guilty about having missed the past few months of live shows because I’ve got a kid to raise or anything.

I’m on a plane down to Hamilton at the moment (I won’t tell you where in Hamilton because I’ve had enough of crazy stalker calls in the middle of the night. Yes, I’m looking at you Yukio Blaze. How did you even get my number in the first place?) with my girlfriend and our five month old daughter. For some reason my five month old daughter is a better flyer than the jittery guy sitting in front of us. She sure as hell doesn’t get it from me, took me three months of flying every week before I got used to it. Now flying is as natural as driving for me.

Now some of you may be all like ‘but Trace, why are you going to Hamilton? The next WFWF show is in San Diego.’ Well the truth is that us wrestlers have personal lives too, even when they don’t cross over onto the screen. You see it’s no secret that my mother passed away recently, so I have to go down there and sort some crap out. Some of you might know the drill. Pack up boxes, tie up loose ends, see if I can get away with setting fire to my old house. But let’s keep that one to ourselves shall we?

Some of you might think it’s a little irresponsible to be going to Hamilton when I’ve got a match to prepare for, but you know what I say to you? Well nothing, because I don’t really care about your opinion.

But let me assure you, I’m not forgetting about Elias. Not at all.

< *** >

Axel Demon: There’s so much crap here.

Faith Demon: You’ve said that a dozen times already. When are you gonna shut up?

Axel Demon: When it stops being true.

We’ve been clearing out the house for the past few hours. Axel has stayed here since the funeral but done basically nothing other than getting drunk with his old friends who are still stuck here. Faith, like myself, has a job that she couldn’t get a month off of so she flew back down here this weekend. I did the same with Alexa, she says she didn’t want me missing more time with Eliza but it’s obvious she just wants to keep an eye on me. I’ve got to catch a flight down to the XWA show in Ottawa mid week and then another one to San Diego two days later for the WFWF. The curse of being a headliner in the both companies I guess.[/color]

Faith Demon: You’re awfully quiet.

Trace Demon: Why talk when there’s nothing to say?

Axel Demon: Oh please, you’d talk to a deaf man just to hear the sound of your own voice.

It’s true. But when you have such a delightful melodic voice as mine it’s a crime not to use it.[/color]

Faith Demon: You’re not still thinking about Emily, are you?

Trace Demon: No, I have not thought about the fact that we have a half sister we’ve never met who just so happened to be ten feet away from us at our mothers funeral. Haven’t given it a second thought.

Faith Demon: You know, you’re quite rude when you’re annoyed. We don’t even know if that was her.

I have yet to figure out whether Faith is in actual denial or if she’s just faking the entire thing because she doesn’t want to be related to a teenage girl who has died her hair blue. For a girl whose name is Faith she’s not really into anything hippy related.[/color]

Trace Demon: We know her mother slept with our father about nine months before she gave birth to Emily, so my money is on it being her.

Faith Demon: You’re really going to trust Axel’s detective skills?

Axel Demon: I’m right here you know.

Trace Demon: At least he did something. At least he went out and asked a few questions instead of sitting around saying how it might not be her.

Axel Demon: Guy’s, right here, can speak for myself.

Faith Demon: Do you actually think that I don’t care? Do you actually think that if I knew she was our sister that I wouldn’t do everything I could to get to know her? I just want to make sure, we’ve been taken for a ride enough with this family as it is without messing things up even more.

Axel Demon: Do I get to say anything at all?

Trace Demon: Shut up Axel.

An awkward silence descends over the three of us as we continue sorting through our mothers stuff. We’re meant to be deciding what we’d like to keep and what should be thrown but to be honest there isn’t a whole lot in the ‘keep’ pile. All of these items just have so many bad memories attached to them that I couldn’t bring myself to look at them any longer than I have to.

Then I find a picture, taken years ago. Me when I was about fifteen standing out in the backyard with a thirteen year old Faith and an eleven year old Faith. We look happy and for a moment I start to think that maybe, just for that day, I was. But then I notice the bruise on my arm, the hand shaped bruise from when my father grabbed me too hard because he’d caught me reading with a torch after curfew.

No happy days in this family.[/color]

Axel Demon: Hey, look at this.

Axel is holding an envelope in his hand. He shows us the front. It’s addressed to all three of us, in my mother’s handwriting.[/color]

Axel Demon: What d’you think it is?

Faith Demon: Open it and find out dumbass.

He tears open the envelope, pulling out a single page that he unfolds. It’s handwritten, once again in my mother’s handwriting. He doesn’t read it, not before he looks at us to make sure we want to hear whatever my mother has to say. I nod and Faith does the same. He starts reading.[/color]

Axel Demon: If you are reading this then it means that I’ve passed away.

Always start off with a cliché.[/color]

Axel Demon: That is the only thing that I can think of that would have brought the three of you back together again. If the three of you aren’t reading this at the same time then you should stop, and get your siblings together before continuing.

Either she was writing this after I got clean and she somehow heard about that (I wonder whether it was Faith or Axel who told) or she had high hopes that I’d outlive her with my drug problem?[/color]

Axel Demon: I wrote this because I needed to tell you some things. The first, and most important, is that I love you all. I know I didn’t show it all the time, I know we didn’t have the best life and I know that I didn’t always make the best decisions, but I never stopped loving you.

Is this my funeral speech version 2.0?[/color]

Axel Demon: There’s something that you need to know, something that I have been keeping from you. You have a half sister. Her name is Emily Hall.

Trace Demon: Need any more confirmation now?

Faith looks down... ashamed to be proven wrong?[/color]

Axel Demon: I never told you because it didn’t seem right. She had a family of her own, a mother that loved her, who could look after her in a way that your father would never have been able to. Then, when her mother passed away you had all left, you had all started your own lives and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I was ashamed, of your father and of myself. I’m not telling you this because I want you to think differently of me, to think I was better than I was. I just want you to stop thinking about it, to stop concerning yourself with it.

Axel pauses, looking at the final line of the letter.[/color]

Axel Demon: I just want you to be a family that I could never be.

< *** >

It’s been over a week since the funeral. I kinda thought that I’d have heard something from them by now. I thought that Trace or Axel or... Faith was it? I thought they’d at least have tried to see me. Maybe they don’t know. I hear they’re back in town right now, maybe I should go around there, give them a piece of my mind, tell them who I am?

Maybe it’s the weed talking.

Sarah Lloyd: Stop hogging the joint Alex.

You would be surprised by how easy it is to get hold of weed in a small town like this. Sometimes it seems like every single person and their grandmother is growing in their basements. It makes you wonder what the town’s electricity bill is with everyone needing ultra violet lighting.

We’re down at the lake about ten minutes away from town because nobody ever comes down here and if they do the fresh air generally hides the smell. Plus it means not having to be home on a Saturday. There’s four of us – myself, Sarah, Alex and Jackson. Jackson is the massive weed whore of the four of us, his older brother deals so he’s always skimming a little off the top of the stock. Alex is Sarah’s boyfriend although he’s a total dick. Sarah is my best friend, has been since the first day of high school. She’s sweet and funny and smart and generally pretty awesome.

The biggest problem?

She’s straight and I’m not. Although it’s not like anyone else knows that.

Alex Saunders: So how was that funeral Emily? Get to see a dead body?

Sarah Lloyd: Don’t be such a freak.

Alex and Jackson don’t know about my real father, Sarah’s the only person I’ve told and I’d trust her with any secret I could ever have. Well, almost any secret.

Alex Saunders: I am not a freak.

Sarah Lloyd: Are too.

And suddenly they’re on top of each other, laughing and kissing and it makes me sick to watch. So I don’t. I grab the joint while I have a chance and I take a toke, letting the smoke drift into my mouth and down my throat before exhaling. The smoke’s disgusting, the buzz isn’t.

Jackson West: So?

Sometimes I forget that Jackson is there. He’s usually so quiet, even when he isn’t high, that he just kind of fades into the background. Not into that awkward, kind of sad, way where you wouldn’t remember they were there when you look back on the day, just in the kind of way where he catches you off guard when he says something.

Emily Hall: So what?

I take another toke and pass the joint over to him.

Jackson West: How was the funeral?

Emily Hall: It was a funeral for a woman I didn’t know. So you know, just as depressing as every other day in this town.

I hate this town, and it isn’t just because it’s where my mother died or the fact that I have to live her with my old senile grandmother. It isn’t even because I have to stay in the closet because news travels too fast and I’m not ready for people to know about that part of me. No, it’s because I hate being stuck here. Have you ever felt claustrophobic even though you aren’t even inside? Well that is how I feel all the time. It just feels like once you’re here you aren’t ever getting away.

Jackson West: I hear her son’s some big time wrestler or something?

Emily Hall: Or something.

One of the reasons I came down here today was because I didn’t want to have to think about them being back in town. I guess there’s no escape from things like this. And the other reason?

Sarah Lloyd: Who wrestlers anymore? It’s all fake.

Sarah comes up for air from her little make out session. Alex looks annoyingly flushed.

Alex Saunders: So are all those crappy tv shows you girls watch, that doesn’t stop you watching them.

Sarah Lloyd: Shut up you.

She punches him in the arm and he takes her back down to the ground. It’s enough to make a girl sick.

Emily Hall: I’m going to call it a day. Catch you all later.

I push myself up, a little unsteady because of the weed, as Sarah pushes Alex off of her.

Sarah Lloyd: Aw come on Em, don’t leave me alone with these idiots.

Alex Saunders: What did I tell you about calling me an idiot?

Sarah Lloyd: See what you’re leaving me with?

Emily Hall: Sorry Sarah, last thing I need is an old woman who’s both senile and pissed off.

I don’t really care what my grandmother actually thinks. Truth is I can’t sit around watching Sarah and Alex suck face right in front of me. Usually I can just shut them out, pretend I’m just like everyone else, that I don’t have feelings for other girls, but with everything else going on I can’t be sure that I won’t just snap and scream at them.

I make my escape before Sarah can argue with me, although I don’t think she makes much of an attempt to because when I turn around she’s making out with Alex again, Jackson lying back with the joint between his lips.

I don’t think I belong in this town, with these people. But then where do I belong?

< *** >

07/04/2012

I got a call today from some reporter here in Hamilton. He heard I was back in the area and wanted to get some words about me. I initially told him to get lost, I wasn’t there for business, I was there for a family matter. He wasn’t going to give up so I told him he could ask me one question over the phone and I’d answer it, and then he’d leave me alone.

The question he asked?

How is the WFWF different now to when I started four years ago?

It got me thinking.

When you’ve been in this business long enough it’s hard not to wonder how things have changed since you started. You start to consider whether they’re a lot different to what they were years ago. The one thing that kept crossing my mind? Whether things are harder or easier for a rookie starting out now to how they were. You see, when I first started out things were a little different. You had to toil away down on the House Shows for months before you got a chance to move onto the main roster full time. It took a hell of a lot of hard work before anyone even knew who you were. When I was working my way up I bled and I hurt, I fought until my body simply couldn’t go any longer to make sure people knew that I was serious.

When I started out I had to earn my spot. I had to prove that I belonged and I did that through hard work and refusing to give up no matter whether you are wrestling a simple one on one match or something completely messed up like a ‘three way, no rope barbed wire, one hundred and fifty light tube death match’. For the historians out there I won that match in the same night that I won a ‘sh*t that hurts when it gets in your cuts match’ and a ‘barbed wire on the ropes, exploding board match’ because back in my early days nobody gave a damn whether you were breathing by the end of the night as long as the ratings were up.

And then I look at things now and you know what I see?

I see a piss poor excuse of ‘earning your stripes’. I see people wrestling half a dozen matches and immediately getting a title shot. I see people doing absolutely nothing and declaring themselves the best in the business.

And it makes me sick.

Before I get hate mail saying that Drake Elias is an exception to that let me list the two people we each beat to earn ourselves a shot at the International Championship.

I beat Hutton Brown and Mak Cross, two tough b*****ds before I got into that ring to face Drakz for that title.

And you Elias? You beat...

AJ King and Jon O’Deeves. Two men who would still be wrestling down on the House Shows if the WFWF had the talent pool to keep it running. These are the type of people you have beaten to get yourself an International Championship match?

It might just be me, but I’m noticing a distinct difference in the quality of our opponents.

Sure, you beat David Brennan last week but he’s just another one who hasn’t earned his spot, another one riding the coat tails of people better and brighter than him. It’s almost like a virus and I’m just sitting there watching as it eats away at the company I have been a part of for over four years. Watching as more and more untested hacks get pushed up the card simply because there aren’t enough people to fill the gaps.

The different between the past and the present is that nobody has to try anymore, they just get gifted a spot as long as they’re the least s**t person in the match. If you need more proof let me put it like this. The last time anyone won their first world championship was in 2010, and that man was Wayne McGurk, a man who was widely considered the best wrestler never to have won that belt. Before him was DGX, another man who had long been established before capturing that title.

So who was the last true rookie to win their first World Championship? Who was the last man to really break through the glass ceiling through real hard work?

That was me. Since then all the other new guys have just fallen at the wayside because they were so far out of their depth that they just didn’t belong at the top.

And you Drake Elias? You think yourself skilled enough to be at the top of the card, to be in the co-main event? Well let me make it clear to you.

Just like the rest of them. You don’t belong.

< *** >

Alexa Monroe: What are you watching?

I was too caught up in the tapes to hear Alexa sneaking up on me. Eliza must be asleep because she barely lets the girl out of her sight when she’s in the old family house. This place is old, falling apart and definitely not baby proofed. Eliza might not be crawling yet but Alexa isn’t about to take any risks.

Trace Demon: Just a few matches online. I’ve got to find some time to watch some of this kids stuff if I want to have a chance.

Alexa Monroe: I’m sure you’ll do fine.

She kisses me on the check and sits down beside me on our grotty old sofa. She’s got no interest in my wrestling career but she tries to be supportive. Actually, she usually takes the piss out of it, so hearing her support me is pretty weird.

Alexa Monroe: So who is this guy?

Trace Demon: Name’s Drake Elias. He’s new.

Alexa Monroe: So easy pickings right?

I wish. I learnt enough times last year that if you slack off even the most green of talents can upset you. Elias might be new and he might not have proven himself but that doesn’t mean I can’t go in with some weapons of my own.

Trace Demon: He relies on power and some rookie MMA crap. He’s got a bit of speed but if I take it to the mat I’ll be able to control things. Biggest problem is there’s not enough matches to actually work out an in depth game plan.

Alexa Monroe: So? You never stick to your game plans anyway.

She’s got a point. Things have a tendency to... fall apart nowadays.

Alexa Monroe: What’s all this about anyway?

Trace Demon: What?

Alexa Monroe: We both know you don’t want to be sitting here watching some other guy’s matches. You get frustrated doing that when you have nothing else to do.

Trace Demon: We’ve packed up most of the stuff so I don’t have anything else to do.

She glares at me with her eyebrow raised. Usually I’m a great liar and she even knows when I’m lying then, but today I’m not on form. There’s no point in trying to talk my way out of this one.

Trace Demon: I can’t just go over there.

Alexa Monroe: Why not?

Trace Demon: What would I say?

Alexa Monroe: I don’t know, how about hey, I’m your brother. That sounds like a good start. It’s not like you’ve ever had trouble finding the words before.

When she’s right she’s right. I knew how to talk my way out of any situation long before I became a professional wrestler. I honed my craft by having to come up with new and innovative lies every single day to try and get out of beatings from my dear old dad. To be honest lying and fighting were the only skills I had so I was either going to be a wrestler or a politician.

Trace Demon: I don’t even know where she lives.

Alexa Monroe: Here.

She hands me a piece of paper with an address on it.

Trace Demon: How?

Alexa Monroe: People like to talk in this town.

Trace Demon: What would I do without you?

Alexa Monroe: Nothing pretty.

Of my way to the weirdest conversation I’ll probably ever have I go.

< *** >

I keep a box of photos under my bed (it would be in my closet but my sexuality is already in there) from back when my mother was alive. When she passed away my biggest fear was that I’d end up forgetting her face so I collected every photo that I had of her and stuck them somewhere safe. Somewhere that my grandmother wouldn’t be able to spill something over because she’s always doing that. Old women don’t have the steadiest of hands.

I only open the box when I want to see her face, and the only times that I really need to see her face are times like these. Times when everything just becomes a little bit too much. When she was alive I would have spoken to her about stuff like this. I would have spoken to her about how I’m attracted to girls instead of boys, I’d have spoken to her about how I have feelings for my best friend but can’t tell her, I’d have spoken to her about how I have this other family and that I don’t know what to do about it.

What makes them being back so hard is that they’re the only real family I have and I don’t even know them. Sure, there’s my grandmother but we’ve never been very close and ever since my mother passed away I just wanted that one person, that one family member that you could just call and speak to at any time when something gets to be too much for you. And things get to be too much for me a lot around here.

Recently I’ve been opening this box a lot more often than I used, looking over the photos of the good times I had with my mother before she was taken from me. The first time she took me to the zoo, the first time she ever walked me to school, the first time I had to get my shots. It is in these moments that I remember that there won’t be any more firsts, that there won’t be any pictures of my mother at my graduation; there won’t be any photos of her at my wedding or with her grandchild. There’ll just be these, and that is why I have to keep them.

Sheila Hall: Emily, there’s somebody at the door for you.

Emily Hall: Just tell them I’m busy!

Sheila Hall: Come to the door honey.

With a sigh I place the photos neatly back inside their box, then push it back under the bed before making my way out towards the sitting room. There, in the doorway, I see him.

Trace Demon: Hi Emily, can I come in?

< *** >

08/04/2012

Sometimes you have to make hard decisions, both in life and in business. I am talking about those decisions that have lasting consequences, the ones you make even though they might not make everybody happy. Sometimes they fester inside of you, tear you apart from the inside out, eat away at your soul and conscience... well, for those of us who actually have consciences. It is these decisions that make us who we are, that mould us into the people that we will become.

You might be asking why any of this matters, why I’m even bringing it up, but the truth of the matter is that nothing matters more even in this business. I have made a living on making these decisions, on making the tough calls that others wouldn’t dare to make. Because if you want to be a star, if you want to be the biggest thing in the company then you need to leave your allies behind, you need to make decisions that might hurt others.

In real life it is your job to try not to hurt people. In real life it is your job to ensure that you keep people happy, that you don’t go around hurting people just for your own amusement. In real, everyday life you make conscious moral decisions and if you make the wrong one you find yourself in trouble – with the law, with your friends, with your family.

But when you step into that ring, that moral call becomes different, because the focus is no longer on making sure that you are doing the right thing, it’s making sure that you are doing the right thing for you. I don’t step into that ring with the intention of sending the fans home happy, I don’t step into that ring with the intention of putting on a show or making sure everybody looks good. No, I go out into that ring because I like to fight, because I like to win. When I have to make a decision the only thing I base it on is if it’s the best thing for me and me alone.

The long and the short of this business is that you can’t rely on other people, you can’t be in the mindset of worrying about what your actions are going to do to others because if you do then there’s no point in going on because you’re just going to be stuck in the opening match of the card every single week. I’ve never worried about others when I’m in that ring, I only worry about winning no matter the cost. Just ask Hutton Brown, maybe one of the few people I respect in this business and I still tried to end his career with a chair.

Why am I writing this? Why am I telling everybody this? Well, it’s simple really. I need Drake Elias to know what he is getting himself into. I need him to know that it doesn’t matter what he’s heard about me when I’m outside of the ring, that it doesn’t matter what Drakz or Schneider or anyone else has said about my personal life and the kind of person that I am out in the real world. None of that matter because when I get inside of that ring I don’t care who you are, I will do everything in my power to end you.

I make the hard decisions because I am capable of doing so.

I hurt people because I can do it without letting it cloud my mind when I go home.

And if I can do that to my friends... well imagine what I’m going to do to you Drake.

Imagine.

< *** >

Trace Demon: Hi Emily, can I come in?

What is he doing here? What do I say? I’ve spent weeks thinking about what I would say if one of them finally turned up, if one of them actually came to my door. I’ve spent weeks working out exactly what I would say to them and now here he is and my minds going blank.

Emily Hall: Um, yeah, sure.

I tried working on what I’d say on my walk over here but the words just never came. This is one of those occasions when you can’t work on some speech, when you just need to say what comes to you because that’s the only way it’s ever going to mean anything.

Trace Demon: Thanks.

He walks in and my grandmother directs him onto the couch. I sit on the chair leg, looking at him. My grandmother sits opposite. I wonder what’s going through her head? Did she knew he was coming, did she just keep that from me?

Trace Demon: So, um, I don’t know if you know who I am?

Emily Hall: I do.

Does that mean she knows what I do or she knows what we are to each other? Why don’t people bloody clarify anything when they talk?

Trace Demon: Do you know why I’m here?

Emily Hall: Is it something to do with you being my brother?

I guess she knows it all then. Well that makes things easier.

Trace Demon: Blunt, just like Faith.

Emily Hall: That’s your actual sister then.

The venom in her voice is so apparent that even her grandmother looks a little uncomfortable. Usually I wouldn’t take that from anyone but... I guess she has her reasons.

I didn’t intend to sound as spiteful as I do, but before when I didn’t know whether they knew who I was I didn’t have to come up with any other reasons for them not coming around here sooner. But if they know and they just ignored me then what am I meant to feel now? Angry, frustrated, hatred?

Emily Hall: Why don’t you just tell me why you’re here?

Sheila Hall: Emily!

I wave her objections away.

Trace Demon: No, it’s fine, she has every right to be angry. I’m here because first off to apologize.

Emily Hall: For what?

Trace Demon: For my mother keeping this from us, for not coming over sooner, for not figuring it out, a lot of stuff. I don’t want you to think that we’ve known all this time and just been ignoring you. If I’d have known back then I’d have done something.

Emily Hall: Really?

I nod and smile affirmatively but honestly I don’t know whether I would have, not back then. I haven’t always been the person I am now. I’d like to think I would have done something though. I hope I would.

I can’t tell whether he’s telling the truth. I don’t know him well enough to figure that out but a part of me wants to believe him.

Trace Demon: I’m sure you’ve got questions.

My mind immediately jumps to the one question that I have been asking since the day I found out who my father was.

Emily Hall: What was my father like?

I don’t know what to say. Am I honest with her? Do I tell her the truth? That he was a drunk who beat his children, who didn’t care about anything other than where the next bottle was coming from. It’s times like these that I’m thankful for having spent my entire life learning how to lie convincingly.

Sheila Hall: You don’t have to answer that.

Emily Hall: He does.

Trace Demon: He... he wasn’t a man that you’d get along with; he wasn’t the type of father that you’d have wanted.

Emily Hall: Any father’s better than no father.

Trace Demon: No, you might think that but you didn’t know him Emily. You wouldn’t have wanted to know him. I wish I didn’t.

I’d heard the rumours, that he was a drunk, that he beat his kids but... what could he have done to make his own son hate him so much?

Sheila Hall: I think that’s enough for now.

Emily Hall: What?

Trace Demon: I think she’s right.

He’s out of the seat before I get the chance to argue with him, to ask him to stay and talk more. I’ve only just got him here and now he’s going to leave and I’m not going to get to say any of the things that I really want to.

I’m lead to the door by her grandmother, who has barely said a word since I’ve been here. She looks frail and old; it’s hard to believe that she’s been looking after a teenage girl for the past few years. Emily follows me to the door and gives me this heartbreaking look.

Emily Hall: You’ll come back?

Trace Demon: I’m catching a flight tomorrow morning, but I’ll try and come back down in a week’s time, okay?

Emily Hall: Promise?

Trace Demon: I promise.

And just like that, he’s gone.

< *** >

10/04/2012

I’m on the plane out to California for the show right now. I’ve got so much stuff going through my head that I’m wondering whether writing this thing right now is a good idea. But honestly, it makes a hell of a lot of sense because when you want to say something like this, you want it to be raw and emotional, that’s the way I’ve always lived, that’s the way I’ve always laid my messages down.

This one, this one is a straight up message to Drake Elias. I know what you might be thinking – I’ve already said plenty about Elias in the past few days and every single bit of it is true. I don’t think he deserves the place he’s got on the card, I don’t think he’s earned the International Championship match that he has been gifted and I will not hesitate to end his career if that is something that is needed of me.

But there’s something else that people need to understand. There’s something else that is crucial to understanding why I am going to do what I have to do to Drake Elias. There is one underlying cause for everything that has to happen.

And that cause is...

Drakz.

I don’t know whether it is fear that stopped Drakz from accepting my challenge last week, I don’t know whether he saw into my eyes and realized that for the first time in a long time he has finally found someone who is not afraid to go to the limits with him in order to end everything he holds dear. Drakz considers himself a risk taker, a precursor to all those that have come after him that he believes includes myself. He considers himself the edgiest man in the WFWF, the most shocking member of the WFWF roster.

Well I think he knows that that is no longer true.

I think Drakz knows that he has finally met someone who is willing to go further, to do more and to inflict more violence that he has ever even thought of in order to get what I want. And if he doesn’t think that was true before well he damn well better believe it is now. He better believe that I’m coming after him and that International Championship that we all know should be with me right now.

But what does this have to do with Drake Elias I hear you cry?

Well plain and simple, Drake Elias has something I want. Drake Elias has the next show at that International Championship and I want it. You see, I’ve recently decided to go after anything that I want, to go out and do the right thing even if it hurts me just that little bit inside. I told you I don’t think Drake Elias is deserving because I’m the one who deserves that title shot. I told you that I make the hard decisions because I needed you to understand why I’m going to do what I’m going to do.

Drake Elias has something I want, and I can’t see any better way to get it than to end him in that ring and take it from his cold, dead carcass.

Drake, you are going to be my message to Drakz. And don’t worry about anyone shooting the messenger.

You’ll already be dead.[/center]