Post by Rated R on Feb 28, 2013 7:17:51 GMT -5
“Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.”
- Napolean Bonaparte
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
House of Hell Wrestling School
February 19th; 9:45am.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
S’up, the narrator here. You know, the guy doing all the description and stuff from somewhere out in the ether. What, you were expecting the usual first person narration, the usual look into the messed up mind of Trace Demon? Well f**k you, you’re always getting a first person narration and I don’t know about you but I’m getting tired of always hearing Trace’s messed up thoughts. This thing needs someone with flare, someone with pizazz, someone witty who can lay a verbal smack down without descending into chaotic cursing.
But we couldn’t find anyone like that since Morgan Freeman’s stopped taking our calls after the Mexico incident, so you’ve got me instead.
Now, where were we? Oh right, the coward.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Trace has been watching this clip obsessively for a good hour now, and it isn’t even that good a clip. Just Yukio Blaze beating on him and sending him running for the hills. It’s almost like he’s punishing himself, some people get off on that stuff but not Trace.
He likes inflicting pain, not so fussed about receiving it.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rewind, replay.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rewind, replay.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rew…
Wayne McGurk: I’m starting to worry about Penny.
Wayne saunters in like he owns the place. Remember who pays the bills buddy.
Wayne McGurk: Trace, did you hear me?
Trace Demon: Not really, what are you chirping on about this time?
Wayne McGurk: Penny, I’m pretty sure she’s been getting all the students stoned.
And here I thought he said there was a problem.
Wayne McGurk: Trace? God sakes man what is on that computer screen that could be more important that the fact our trainer is getting out students stoned?
Porn? Cat videos? The complete Battlestar Galactica on DVD for a rock bottom price?
Trace Demon: You know, I’ve been thinking. Do you think I might be a little bit bi-polar?
Wayne McGurk: I’ve been telling you that for years.
Trace Demon: Yeah, but it wasn’t really important when you said it. Now I’m saying it so I kind of give a crap. Like I should be angry about this, right? I used to be angry about this kind of stuff.
Wayne McGurk: What, Alecia calling you a coward or you actually running away from Yukio Blaze?
It was a tactical retreat, why does nobody else see that?
Trace Demon: But it’s like a month ago I’d have thrown some kind of hissy fit, thrown a few things around, got a bit of spit going when I was snarling down a camera having a good old time talking about how I was going to rip someone’s head off. Now it’s just like… who cares, I’m going to end Yukio Blaze anyway, why’s it matter if I get all mad beforehand?
Wayne McGurk: Yeah, that really doesn’t sound like you.
Trace Demon: I know man, I know, it’s like that cockiness everyone keeps saying I have is taking over my natural urge to be a generic angry old psycho like half the WFWF roster. Maybe I’ve got a brain tumor or something?
Wayne McGurk: You don’t have a brain tumor.
Trace Demon: You a doctor?
Wayne McGurk: No, but…
Trace Demon: Then stop dishing out medical advice. I could be dying right now and we don’t even know it. Do you know what I’d do to you if it turned out I had a brain tumor and you didn’t let me do anything about it?
It probably wouldn’t involve throwing a party for the handsome narrator in your head.
Trace Demon: I’d do nothing, because I’d be dead obviously.
There’s some real world logic right there.
Wayne McGurk: I’m telling you right now Trace, you don’t have a brain tumor. You might have a narcissism complex and a raging addiction to illegal pharmaceuticals, but you do not have a brain tumor.
That’s a former addiction to illegal pharmaceuticals thank you very much.
Trace Demon: I’m not taking medical advice from a man who dropped out of medical school.
Wayne McGurk: I never went to medical school.
Trace Demon: Exactly!
Wayne shakes his head in complete and utter disbelief. I mean everyone knows that Trace Demon has always been a few screws loose of a hardware store, but this is a whole new level of batcrap neuroticism. And that’s saying something for the man who once went to Vegas and got so trashed he hallucinated talking to himself as a kid.
And that can be considered a quiet week.
Trace Demon: Doesn’t matter, we’ll know by the end of the day whether I’m destined to fly like a soaring phoenix or have my brain rotted by some horrible growth.
Wayne McGurk: Oh god, what have you done?
Trace Demon: Well you know that guy down the hospital, the neurologist who owes me after I saved him from Winston the rampaging Buffalo?
Wayne McGurk: I really think I’d remember if something like that had happened.
Trace Demon: You know, just around the time EBR got fired by King Kraig in a completely unrelated incident?
Wayne just shakes his empty head. Huh, really seems like the type of story that you’d tell people unless you were just making it up on the spot to give some validation for why a neurologist owes you a favour. But who would need to do something like that? Seriously?
Wayne McGurk: Oh come on, please tell me you haven’t booked yourself in for an MRI?
Trace Demon: Well…
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
Some Hospital… somewhere
February 19th; 3:17pm.
Trace Demon: So what’s the deal doc, how long have I got left?
Doctor Higgenbottom, which is totally a real name, we checked, reads over the scan of Trace’s brain, Trace having just spent the better part of half an hour inside of a cramped, creepily white machine and the half an hour before that having said doctor convince him that the machine wasn’t going to suck out his intestines.
There’s a tension in the room. That kind of tension when you’re waiting to find out how long you have left to live because you already know you’ve got an inoperable brain tumor that’s stopping you from getting all riled up the moment a hot announcer calls you a coward. Yes, tension can get that specific.
The seconds tick by, Trace getting more and more nervous. He doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready to float off into the great beyond and confront nothingness / a dude with a big white beard / 7 virgins (delete as applicable). He’s certainly not ready to see all the people he hates up in heaven, though if we’re being straight up honest he’s probably deluding himself if he thinks a guy like him is getting into heaven in the first place, but we digress.
He’s crapping himself right now.
Doctor Higgenbottom: You’re absolutely fine.
Well s**t, that was anticlimactic.
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
The Demon Residence
February 19th; 6:25pm.
He throws some clothes into a suitcase without really paying much attention to what’s going in there. In truth he’s still cut up about not having a brain tumor, it’s harsh news to get that’s for sure, especially when the only other option is that you’ve gone soft because you’ve suddenly got too much money and not enough self-respect. Well, that’s a lie, the only person Trace respects is Trace. Well, himself and all those people fighting for equal rights for homosexuals, but that’s another story entirely.
Alexa Munroe: Why are you packing your bags?
There’s something about people that make them ask really stupid questions. Like “do you think that’s a good idea” and “do you want fries with that?” Only idiots ask those kinds of questions.
Trace Demon: I’m joining a convent and I’ve got to burn all my satanic garb before they’ll let me hook up with the hot young nuns.
Alexa Munroe: Be serious for a few minutes.
That’s a tough thing to ask of someone who’s just found out they don’t have a brain tumor. The woman should know better. But still Trace decides to appease her, because it’ll probably mean less problems when he comes back in a week’s time with Yukio Blaze’s blood on his hands and that ratty beard of his in a bag. What? If you’re going to symbolically, and also very physically, destroy someone who represents the worst moment of your entire life then you at least need to keep the beard so you can burn it or frame it or something.
And for future reference, it’ll definitely be burning.
Trace Demon: You know why I’m packing my bag.
Alexa Munroe: The pay per view isn’t for over another week.
Trace Demon: Okay, maybe you don’t know why I’m packing my bag. I’m going to Canada.
Canada, the cursed word.
Alexa Munroe: Every time you go to Canada you get beaten, or someone dies, or you find a long lost family member, of you try to break into the zoo because you think the gorilla shot you a dirty look and you want to set things straight. You should not be going to Canada.
Ah, that way a good day. The gorilla at the zoo one I mean, all the rest sucked balls.
Trace Demon: I can assure you that I’m not going to get in any fights, nobody is going to die, I’m pretty sure I’m out of long lost family members that we can realistically introduce at least for a few years, and I’m pretty sure that gorilla got shipped out to another zoo because it was a dick.
Yeah gorilla, he called you a dick. What are you going to do about it?
Alexa Munroe: What is going on Trace?
He takes a deep breath, it’s time to tell the truth.
Trace Demon: I’m a serial killer.
Or not.
Alexa Munroe: We both know you don’t have the time to be a serial killer.
Trace Demon: That’s true, I should make more time in the day. Thanks for that babe; it’s really good to know that you support my natural serial killer instincts.
If you didn’t know any better it would be easy to argue that he is attempting to sidestep the question, like whatever he has planned is kind of crazy, even though it… no, it probably is, it doesn’t make any sense to defend it when we all know that Trace Demon only has two kind of ideas. Good ones, and those are few and far between, and the kind of bad that leads to broken bones, ended careers, crying women and babies and the occasional acid trip.
Alexa Munroe: Give me a proper answer Trace, and remember we’ve got your one year old daughter and sixteen year old sister living under this roof as well so it better be a good one.
Ah yes, the other women in his life, his daughter Eliza and his sister Emily. It’s surprising how uneventful both of them had been as of late considering months back they took up most of his time, almost like he was right in the middle of one of those annoying lifetime movies where the moral gets lost amidst the horrible acting.
Trace Demon: It can either be proper or it can be good, it can’t be both.
Alexa Munroe: I’ll take proper for 500 Alex.
Damn, a poorly used jeopardy joke. She really knows how to get him going.
Trace Demon: Short version is that I’m going to see an old man about my early-life crisis because apparently I wasn’t lucky enough to have a brain tumor.
Alexa Munroe: And the long version?
Trace Demon: Is boring and full of pointless exposition that isn’t going to do anything but slow us down.
Somebody get in there and remind him to stop breaking the fourth wall. That’s my thing.
Trace Demon: I get it, you’re worried about me, you’re always worried about me, you’ve got every right to be, I have a history of being a mess, a nightmare, a disaster, but it gets tiring listening to the same thing over and over again. I’ve spent a year sorting my life out and I’m pretty sure everybody is getting sick and tired of hearing about it. I know I am.
Me too.
Alexa Munroe: I’m just looking out for you.
Trace Demon: And I appreciate it, but I’m on the road enough that I know how to look after myself, and it’s time to start a fresh story, one not bogged down by the past, one not bogged down by all the crap that nobody cares about any more. It needs to be all new. New house, new position of power, new focus, new everything.
Alexa Munroe: And what about all the things you can’t just run away from?
There’s so many of them, so many things that drift around in his mind, that recur in times of stress, trouble, in the worst moments possible. These are what recovering addicts call ghosts, triggers from the past that can cause a relapse, that will cause a relapse if they’re not held in check, if they’re not pushed away to such a deep dank corner of the mind that they can’t possibly dig their way back up to catch you out. Trace Demon has spent too damn long trying to do this, spent too damn long getting rid of one to find that another ghost of his past has found its way back up onto the surface. These problems are what have led him down such a dark road this past year, what have made the entire thing feel like some repetitive sitcom with the exact same formula every single time. Problem appears, links back to his past, screws him over and he comes out on top at the end of it all.
It’s gone on long enough and he has tired of the mundane nature of it all. But, like all great epic sagas in the history of mankind before the book can be shut one final obstacle has to be overcome, one final foe slain, one final chapter written before the cover can be slammed shut and a new volume started fresh. For Trace Demon that foe is Yukio Blaze, the ultimate ghost of his past, the ultimate reminder of his one great failure. All of this started with Yukio Blaze, and it must end with Yukio Blaze. So the question of what you do about all the things you can’t just run away from, the question of how you conquer a past that is so determined to conquer you, the question of how you slam shut the cover on the darkness of your mind. Well there really is only one option.
You face them head on.
Trace Demon: I don’t run, I go to war.
< *** >
Toronto, Canada
Holloway’s Dungeon
February 20th; 8:31am.
The one thing about growing up in Canada that you won’t realize until you move away is that you’ll never get properly used to weather anywhere else. Yes, this is probably a fact about anywhere, but for so many people the cold is just part of Canada’s national identity and, after spending a good twenty years living out there, it had become an element of Canadian life that he had just felt comfortable with. In fact it was the heat of a Los Angeles summer that he had never really acclimatised to. It wasn’t that he got all hot and sweaty, he just felt uncomfortable, it didn’t feel right standing outside in the blistering heat when somewhere, probably over in Canada, there was a perfectly good snow bank somewhere.
Holloway: Will you get the hell out of the snow, you’re a grown man.
Trace Demon: S**t, sorry, got a bit carried away there. I still make a damn good snow angel though.
Holloway looks like an old man compared to the last time Trace had seen him, which was only about six years ago based on the weird time scale that his life pre-WFWF seemed to go by. Maybe it was because Trace had grown and everything else seemed smaller, more feeble somewhat, or maybe Holloway had just gotten old. It happens to all of us eventually, not something you can fight unless you’re a former reality television star who ruins their face with too much cosmetic surgery. That was never going to be Trace, nobody was going to cut his face up without a fight.
Holloway: Didn’t think I’d be seeing you around here again after you sold out to the big guns.
Trace Demon: There’s a difference between selling out and becoming a worldwide success. I mean you wouldn’t know about either but not everybody can be as great as me.
Holloway: You know, you were a lot less egotistical when you first came here. A snivelling little runt, sure, but less egotistical.
’Here’ was Holloway’s Dungeon. No, it wasn’t something taken right out of a poorly written but somehow bestselling novel about sexual exploits that Trace had taken part in years before they were a twinkle in an author’s eye. It was in fact one of the most gruelling wrestling schools in Canada, which therefore made it one of the most gruelling wrestling schools anywhere because let’s face it, Canada does it better.
Trace Demon: I never snivelled. Hell the first time we met I punched you in the face.
Holloway was the guy who had taught Trace everything that he knew before he debuted in the WFWF. Yes, a lot of that was just learning how to hit harder than anybody else but that ability to brawl and take a punch got him in the door, and everything else came later when he really needed it. Still, his relationship with Holloway had never been smooth sailing, he was a hard ass vet who didn’t take crap, he’d make you run until you threw up blood and then he’d make you run some more. That was Trace’s kind of trainer, none of this coddling crap, none of this going easy on pathetic little wannabe wrestlers who don’t know a damn thing about the business.
And certainly none of this vegetarian stuff, get him a steak or get out.
Holloway: Aye, and now you’re running away from a man who looks like he’s got bugs in his beard.
Trace Demon: Truth, pretty sure I saw a cockroach in there last week.
Holloway: And yet still you ran.
Trace Demon: I don’t need no cockroaches laying eggs in my intestines. I know they do that, saw it in a newspaper last week.
Holloway leads him into the gyms office and the first thing he can think of is that this place doesn’t even have a flat screen television. That doesn’t bode well for figuring out why he isn’t the rage fuelled monster that he was once upon a time. A rage fuelled monster’s first thought would have been how much force it’d take to break the crappy desk they’re sitting around. Maybe not in those terms, rage fuelled monsters tend to have lower IQ’s than the rest of us. Just go ask Devilkiller.
Holloway: Don’t think I didn’t see you running away like a p***y on national television. You’d think that if you’re going to sell out you’d at least be good at it.
Trace Demon: I am very good. Do you not see the championship around my waist?
Holloway: No.
Trace Demon: Well that’s because I left it back at my hotel room, but the point stands. Also, remind me to call hotel security and make sure nobody steals my title belt, that things expensive.
Holloway: See that’s your problem. You’re all caught up in what’s expensive or in how much money you can make. You got all shined up and forgot how to get down and dirty with the other guys on the roster.
Trace Demon: We’re still talking about wrestling right? Because what you’re describing sounds more like guy on guy porn.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Whatever floats your boat and all that jazz.
Holloway: Will you stop making jokes and start taking yourself seriously.
Trace Demon: I’m very serious, not about the gay porn bit, I mean about wrestling but, oh you know what I mean. Would someone who isn’t serious release a sex tape featuring his nemesis’s wife? Would someone who isn’t serious take over the company from right underneath the boss’s nose? Would someone who isn’t serious…
Holloway: None of that makes you serious; it just means you’ve got a brain. Everyone’s got a brain kid.
Obviously he’s never had a conversation with a certain World Champion.
Holloway: Being serious means walking down to that ring, no matter what two-bit, sell out company you’re in and going to war every night. Being serious means being willing to bleed and risk your body every time you get into that ring. Being serious means not running away when someone comes after you simply because they’ve got the upper hand.
Trace Demon: I do all of those things. Okay, maybe not the running away thing but that happened one time. One! Out of the hundreds of times it could have happened it’s happened once, that’s a great percentile, that’s better than the Laker’s win-loss record.
Holloway: Oh please, you used to be serious, not anymore. Now you’re just a sell out and a coward. You’ll never get anywhere because you lost the will to fight and to hurt people. You’ve got content with the money and your family and the business side of things that you forgot that it’s about the fight.
Trace Demon: I’ll fight you right now.
Holloway: I’m a sixty year old man; you’re gonna beat on a sixty year old?
Trace Demon: I’m equal opportunity when it comes to beatings.
The last thing the WFWF needs is a lawsuit against its owner because he refused to kick the crap out of someone based on their age. That’d be as bad as if he had refused to beat up a midget simply because of their size, he knew better than that. All people are equal when it comes to beatings. In fact, someone remind him to get onto the WFWF’s charity department about making a public service announcement.
Trace Demon: I came here to figure out what was wrong with me…
Holloway: Did you get checked out for a brain tumor?
Trace Demon: Of course I got checked out for a brain tumor, do I look stupid to you? Anyway, like I was saying before you rudely interrupted with good medical advice, I came here to find out what was wrong with me, but I’m starting to think that there’s nothing wrong with me at all. I mean you think being serious is all about hurting people physically, but I can do more than that. I can hurt them mentally, I can hurt them emotionally, I can even hurt then fiscally and then after all that then I can still hurt then physically. Hell I can do it all at the same time. I thought that because I ran I’d lost touch, I thought that because I wasn’t pissed with being called a coward I’d lost my drive, but the truth is I’ve just found something more. I wasn’t pissed because I know the end game, I wasn’t pissed because I know that when we meet in Texas it’ll be game over for Yukio Blaze and that’s what everybody is going to remember, not who was standing in the ring the week before but who is standing tall in the ring on the night. I was a brute because I didn’t know anything else, but now I do, I don’t need to rely solely on being able to hurt and maim people because I can break them mentally as well. I’ve not slipped, I’m better than ever, b***h I’ve transcended.
Transcended? Someone reel him in before he bursts into a church and starts doing a sermon. We all know it’s coming.
Holloway: The only hurting that matters is what you do in a fight, nothing else matters.
Trace Demon: Really? Because I could buy this land right out from under you and tear this place down just because I can. And I’m pretty sure that when you’re homeless, when you’ve got no building to run your little gym, when you’ve got no building to train those pathetic losers in and you’ve got no way of making money, you tell me if it hurts. And I’ll give you a sneak peek to the answer – it will. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to storm out of here dramatically.
And that’s exactly what he does, because if there’s one thing that declares a personal breakthrough it’s storming out of a room dramatically. Wait, it isn’t? Oh screw that, the dramatic walkout is so much better.
On a side note, he did buy that land, and within a month the gym was no more. Of course he later realized he didn’t need the land so he sold it to the Koreans, just because he could.
< *** >
Dallas, Texas
The Site of WFWF Psycho Circus
February 24th; 1:54pm.
He’s always had a bit of a thing for visiting the arena when the ring crew were setting up, especially for a pay per view. There was something about sitting in that ring while everything else is being set up that just got him in the right mind set to go out and kick some ass. Epiphany or not that hasn’t changed. Sitting in the middle of that ring, looking up at the half built Psycho Circus stage, he knows that he is ready to do what has to be done; he knows that he is ready to step into the ring and exorcise the hobo-like demon that is Yukio Blaze.
Sara: You’re looking good today sir.
He knows that his nineteen year old, smoking hot secretary has a thing for him, but that’s really not relevant right now.
Trace Demon: Not the time nor the place Sara.
She clears her throat, attempts to sound professional, but they both know that the only thing either of them are likely to remember of their time working together is when she inevitably comes onto him at the next Christmas party.
Sara: Mr. Pierce wants to see you.
Trace Demon: Tell him I’m not here.
Xavier Pierce: I’m standing right here Trace, I know that you’re here.
Trace Demon: I know where you are, I was just trying to be rude because I think you’re a bit of a dick.
Sara: Um, sir.
Trace Demon: Sorry, you’re right Sara, credit where credit is due. You’re a massive dick Xavier.
This time round Sara can’t contain her laughter, drawing a glare from Pierce. If you know nothing about Xavier it’s that when he glares at you, it’s recommended to make a hasty exit. The guy used to be an arms dealer after all, and only two kinds of people would mess with a former arms dealer. Either you’re straight up stupid or, like Trace, you just don’t care.
Trace Demon: You should leave now Sara.
Sara: Thank you sir.
Sara follows orders well enough, making a hasty retreat away from the ring while Trace pushes himself up onto his feet and climbs out of it, dropping down to the ringside area where Xavier Pierce stands. For two people who are meant to be running a company together, these two hate each other.
Xavier Pierce: Is there a reason you hired the young blonde secretary instead of one of the more experienced candidates?
Trace Demon: I think we both know the answer to that one. Now, why’d you have to interrupt my quiet meditation time?
Xavier Pierce: You meditate?
Trace Demon: Well, I think about new weapons I can make to hurt Yukio Blaze, but that’s the same thing as meditation right? Going to your happy place?
Right now he was thinking of a wooden chair with toothpicks sticking out of it, though he’d have to get a really good carpenter with some seriously questionable morals to put that one together. He’d do it himself but he just didn’t care enough.
Xavier Pierce: Not exactly.
Trace Demon: Whatever, business talk, shoot.
Xavier Pierce: Alright, first off we need to talk about Phillip Schneider’s group.
Trace Demon: I’m not happy about it either man. I’m just about to put one hobo on the shelf and now we’ve got another one, only this guy’s only got the one arm. That’s not cool.
Xavier Pierce: That’s not what I meant.
Trace Demon: You’re not worried about there being a one armed hobo on television every week?
Xavier Pierce: Not particularly.
Wow, here he was thinking that a one armed hobo was creepy and would probably not look great on promotional materials. Maybe he’s one armed hobo-ist? Nah, that’s ridiculous, he hates all hobos equally.
Trace Demon: So if it’s not the one armed hobo, what’s the problem?
Xavier Pierce: The legal issues of it all, not to mention that it’s in very bad taste. I mean he’s got a girl who looks underage using the name of a dead girl…
Can you infringe on the trademark of a dead chick? God, it’s times like these that he wishes Anders was around, that crazy bastard would love legal quandaries like this to work out.
Xavier Pierce: Not to mention the trademark infringement upon Hutton Brown and that fact that we’ve now got a convicted felon hanging around.
Trace Demon: Deville? He was just running a dog fighting ring, it’s not like he killed anyone.
Xavier Pierce: Except Tha CBT.
Trace Demon: Rabies are a bitch.
Xavier Pierce: We need to deal with this before we get lawsuits and public decency complaints from all sides.
Trace Demon: I’m gonna let it slide, I like the craziness of it all. Plus the fact that those crazies are bugging you so much makes me like them even more.
Xavier Pierce: You just said you hated the one armed hobo.
Trace Demon: It’s the Mitt Romney offence Pierce, I’m flip-flopping all over the place and there’s nothing you can do about it because I’m white and republicans love me even if though I hate them.
The rich white man method, you can get anything you want except for the respect of the working classes.
Xavier Pierce: There’s something else as well. I need you to withdraw from you’re match with Yukio Blaze.
For the first time since they started working together Xavier says something that gets Trace Demon to stop in his tracks and turn around in a slow, overdramatic fashion. Withdraw from his match with Yukio? Pierce has to be joking right, this is a joke, the man’s stupid but he isn’t this stupid, he used to be a gun runner, he can’t actually be that stupid.
Trace Demon: You’re not serious right?
Xavier Pierce: It’s bad for business to have the co-owner and one of his employees beating the holy hell out of each other; it’ll ruin our public image.
He really is that stupid. How is he not dead?
Trace Demon: You’re mad, you’re beyond mad, it’s suicidal even to make the suggestion.
Xavier Pierce: But the company…
Trace Demon: I don’t give a s**t about the company right now. I’m days away from stepping into that ring and rectifying the biggest failure of my career and you want me to withdraw from the match? Are you mad, are you certifiably insane? You’re lucky I’m a changed man or I’d be grabbing the fork from my pocket and stabbing you in the eye with it and no, before you ask, you do not need to know why I’m carrying a fork in my pocket.
Xavier Pierce: You are going to ruin us if you go through with this match. You just said you’re a changed man, well change into the business man you claim to be and do the right thing for business and before you say it the right thing for business is not for the owner to carve a bloody mess out of a veteran of the company.
Funny, that seems to have worked for every other company in the history of professional wrestling.
Trace Demon: I might be a changed man but Yukio Blaze is the last thing shadow hanging over my head. He’s like a bad smell, both literally and figuratively and I can’t sit on my ass knowing that he’s there to trying to bite it like the dog that he is.
He really should try and stick to one metaphor at a time.
Trace Demon: Yukio Blaze is my tumor, and yes there is relevancy in that metaphor but unless you’ve been following me around for a week it’ll be very difficult to explain. In short I need to cut him out before he overtakes my entire being and drags me to the depths of hell. I’m going to step into that ring and I’m going to rip him apart like the dog that he is.
Seriously, we were onto a good one with the tumor metaphor and you go straight back to the dog? We really need to work on that attention span... ooh look, a shiny quarter.
Xavier Pierce: Did you just pause in the middle of a dramatic monologue to pick up a quarter?
Trace Demon: That’s beside the point. I’m going to walk into Texas, even though technically I know we’re already here, and I’m going to end Yukio Blaze forever. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to be literally anywhere else right now.
Trace out.
< *** >
Flint, Michigan
Spencer Residence
February 25th; 5:19pm.
Coming here already seems like a bad idea, and not least because the hillbilly at the end of the road has a pitbull on a really thin piece of string and Trace is pretty sure that if he got loose he’d go straight for him. That in turn makes him wonder exactly how long it takes for someone to come to the door which in turn reminds him of all of those times he’s heard someone knocking at the door and then didn’t bother to answer. God, maybe he is as rude as everybody keeps telling him, maybe he…
Oh cool, the door’s opening. Crisis of self-awareness averted.
The moment that she opens the door and sees him she almost slams it shut right there, but his hand darts out to stop her. He isn’t going to be able to do what he needs to do with a door in his way and he’s already kicked enough things down this week that his foot is kind of aching and he needs it in tip top shape for when he shoves it down Yukio Blaze’s throat.
Robin: Get the f**k out of here.
Trace Demon: You know more and more people are answering the door to me like that nowadays? I blame it on the lack of any proper educational reform.
Or it could be that you’ve systematically destroyed the mind and body of her husband while, at the same time, attempting to tear him down by weakening our outright crushing their relationship through a series of vicious and malicious actions including a sex tape and manipulated phone recording.
It probably isn’t, but it could be.
Trace Demon: I’m not here for trouble; I even made sure to check that the old hobo wasn’t in before I knocked. I just want to talk, explain some things.
Robin: I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth.
Trace Demon: Probably the smart thing to do, I’ve been consistently untrustworthy over the years. Can I just mention your house sucks balls? How much are we paying Yukio that he can’t afford to put his wife and kid in a decent house?
Robin: Did you come here just to insult where I live?
Trace Demon: No, it’s just a bonus. Can I come in?
She eyes him up, doesn’t know whether to punch him in the face or let him through the door. She’s much rather do the former after everything that he’s done to Yukio, but she’s always had a weak spot for Trace ever since they spent one night together. Eventually she succumbs, stepping aside and letting him through the front door, just in time too because that pitbull was giving him the evil eye.
Trace Demon: Before you get any ideas this is not going to end with us sleeping together, and I’m not saying this so that when it does happen it seems more shocking, it just isn’t going to happen. I want to cut that expectation out right now.
Robin: Just shut up and say what you want to say before I stab you with whatever’s nearest.
Should probably keep quiet about that fork that, for whatever reason sounds the most normal, is still in his pocket.
Trace Demon: I want to apologise. Where’s the kid?
Robin: I put him down for a nap. Wait, you want to apologize?
Her shocks understandable, Trace has never really been the apology type. Although she doesn’t really deserve to be shocked when she lives in a place like this, it’s downright grotty.
Trace Demon: Yeah, more to the kid than to you though. Through here?
Before she gets a chance to ask what the hell is going on Trace Demon is wandering through her house as she goes after him, attempting to get him to stop. She doesn’t want this barbarian anywhere near her son but she can’t stop him soon enough as he finds Greyson’s bedroom and just walks in, approaching the sleeping child as if it was the most casual thing in the world, instead of being totally, utterly creepy.
Robin: Get out, now.
Trace Demon: Just let me say what I have to say, and then I’ll leave, alright? No tricks this time, no hidden recording devices, no video cameras, no schemes or tricks, I just want you and your kid to understand exactly how sorry I am for what I’m about to do to your husband, to his father. You see, I’m stepping into that ring with Yukio and I’m going to hurt him, there’s no doubt about it. You know it and I know it and there’s no point arguing any other way, he’s going to get hurt and he’s probably never going to be the same again.
Which reminds him, he needs to get a quote on the toothpick chair before he flies back out to Texas.
Trace Demon: I want you to know, both of you, that this isn’t something I want to do. Well the brutally beating Yukio Blaze bit is something I really want to do, but the bit where I leave you and your son with a vegetable as a husband and father isn’t, it’s just collateral damage, you know? So if, when something happens, when I do something to him that can never be undone until science makes some crazy leaps in neurological repairs, I just want you to know that I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Because I’m a nice guy.
Robin: You’re an bunghole. You came round my house to tell me that, you came round to my house to tell me that you intend to cripple the man that I love, the cripple the father of my child? What is wrong with you you disgusting son of a b***h.
Well it’s certainly not a brain tumor, we got that checked.
Trace Demon: Well no, I actually came round here to tell you’re son something.
He turns to the child who, once sleeping, has now been woken by the sound of his mother’s distress. While Robin watches on, shaken to her very core by his words which, let’s be honest, have the slightest hint of being a sociopath to them.
Trace Demon: One day kid, when you’re older and you don’t look like a tiny, ugly potato, you’re gonna want to come after me for crippling your old man; you’re going to want revenge against the guy who made sure that the only things your father is capable of doing is pissing himself. Now when that day comes you’ll know how to find me, I’ll be the guy who owns half the world by then, and when that day comes… I recommend you do nothing. I’m here to tell you not to bother, because I’d hate to end two generations of Blaze inferiority. I’d hate to…
He turns and faces Robin to deliver the killer final line, because that’s how men like him do it, that’s how kings do it.
Trace Demon: But I won’t hesitate. Robin, if you see your husband before the pay per view you give him a kiss, you tell him you love him, because it’ll be the last time he’s got the sense to understand. And don’t worry…
He pauses, glances back at the physically shaken wife of the man he intends to butcher.
Trace Demon: I’ll let myself out.
< *** >
Oh Yukio! Yukio! I know you’re listening to me, I know you’re frothing at the mouth to hear what I have to say, I know you’re hanging on my every word. How do I know this? Because I’m in your head Yukio, I’ve burrowed right on into your mind and now every time you close your eyes you see me. Every time you go to sleep you see me. Every time you try and rest you see me. I’m like a nightmare except when you wake up, I’ll still be here, chipping away at your sanity piece by piece. Chip, chip, chip… oops, there goes another bit, not like you need it though, not going to need your mind at all after Psycho Circus. You know it’s true, don’t you Yukio? You know I’m not making it up this time, you know there’s no getting away from this, not this time round, there’s no running, there’s no escaping, there’s nowhere to hide, I’m in your head and I’m not going away. I’ve found prime real estate and I’m going to build a slaughterhouse in here.
Now you know how I felt when I saw you, when I saw your disgusting face at Survival of the Fittest. It was like I was Macbeth and you were my Banquo, I was the king and you were the ghost trying to send me into the depths of madness. But the problem with that is I’ve already been there, I’ve spent my life in madness and only now have I found my own special sense of sanity. Only now do I know what real clarity feels like, and that is why you’ve come back Yukio! You’ve come back to try and steal my clarity away from me. I bet you thought it’d be easy, I bet you thought when Xavier Pierce offered you another chance that you could walk through that door, through my door, and that you would just be welcomed back with open arms. I bet you thought you’d show up and your presence alone would tip me over the edge enough so that you could put me down just like you’ve always wanted to do. And I mean maybe, once upon a time, it would have been that easy, maybe once upon a time all it would have taken was to see your face and I would’ve plummeted back into the depths of insanity… but not anymore Yukio, not anymore.
I found clarity in your absence Yukio Blaze, I discovered my true capabilities outside of just being able to inflict pain. I discovered how far I can take this thing, how far I can push the envelope without just resorting to violence and vitriolic rampages. Now sometimes that’s what’s needed, and we’ll get to that in just a few moments but first I want to say… thank you. You provided me not only with the perfect opportunity to show what I am capable of now that I can see straight, but you also gave me the chance to vanquish the very last ghost that haunts me. You see you came back Yukio and I realized that the one thing that I cannot let go off is that loss from nearly four years ago. That night when I stepped into the ring in Texas and I had that bullrope wrapped around my wrist, wrapped ever so tightly around my skin and bone, and I went to war with their Random Hero. That was going to be my crowning moment, that was going to be the night that I could look back on and say right there, I made it.
But you took that from me. I didn’t get the job done. You beat me, you put me down for the three and no matter how much blood I split, no matter how much pain I inflicted upon you the only thing that I remember of that night is staring up at the ceiling as the referee counted three. It’s haunted me for too damn long! So when you came back, I knew… I knew that this was my chance to put that to rest but that I couldn’t just do it by breaking your body, I had to break your mind. I had to twist it and bite it and taste your misery as it leaked into the ether. And suddenly, it was like it all just fell into place. Because that night that I spent with your whore of a wife all those years ago suddenly became very useful Yukio, because I knew that showing you the truth about her would ruin you. I knew that showing you exactly how I had soiled her body before you ever got the chance would destroy you. So I dug my nails in and I tore and I ripped and I bit away at every single piece of purity in that so called relationship of yours and it was oh so easy.
I had to goad you Yukio, I had to bring you to the edge. I had to make sure that the Yukio Blaze I’m facing is as twisted and broken as I once was. I need to make sure that you would go the distance before we returned to the sight of my greatest failure. Because I couldn’t have you coming in worried about your family, I couldn’t have you tied to me knowing that in the back of your mind the images of your whore wife and bastard child would hold you back. I needed you to be ready for a war because then and only then would I be able to end you once and for all. A beating is not good enough, a beating is not going to give me the satisfaction that I so crave, no… it needs to be a damn war! I need you to come into this with all of the anger and the rage and the twisted and bruised mind that I have created within you so that you can hit me as hard as I’m going to hit you. I don’t want to drag you to hell; I want us both to go there together! And that’s what’s going to happen Yukio, we’re both going to end up bruised and bloodied and broken but I am going to be the only one left standing.
You see Yukio, I have found clarity, I know how to get the job done with my mind as well as my fists but there comes a time when the only way that something can be ended once and for all is by truly going to war. And what better way to do it that by revisiting the very sight… the very match of what started all this? Sure the name’s changed, it’s not a rip off of a film this time, but everything else remains the same. In 2009 at Texas Chainsaw Massacre it was Trace Demon against Yukio Blaze in Texas in a Texas bullrope match. And now, in 2013 at Psycho Circus it will be Trace Demon against Yukio Blaze in Texas in a Texas bullrope match. Look at the symmetry, it’s like it was meant to be, like this was some kind of divine plan laid out all those years ago! Back then it was a war that I didn’t win but back then I didn’t see things as clearly as I do now, back then I wasn’t dealing with a bitter old man. The differences are there, they’re small, minor little pieces of a jigsaw, but they matter all the same.
I have waited for this for too damn long to let it split through my fingers once again. Yukio, we step into the ring for a very literal rematch but this will not end the same way. I will tear at your flesh, I will smell your blood and I will taste your fear as it drifts through Texas like a plague upon your own soul. There is no escape, there is no running away there is just me, the clear king, and you, the broken down fool. This will be a war but it is one that I cannot allow myself to lose, one that I will not forgive myself for losing. This is a war and it is an ending. It is your ending. I put you down for the final time. I will leave you as a bloodied mess and it will be over. This is the truth that I know. This is my end and my beginning. I will rise from your bloodied corpse and then… only then…
My true terror can begin.
- Napolean Bonaparte
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
House of Hell Wrestling School
February 19th; 9:45am.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
S’up, the narrator here. You know, the guy doing all the description and stuff from somewhere out in the ether. What, you were expecting the usual first person narration, the usual look into the messed up mind of Trace Demon? Well f**k you, you’re always getting a first person narration and I don’t know about you but I’m getting tired of always hearing Trace’s messed up thoughts. This thing needs someone with flare, someone with pizazz, someone witty who can lay a verbal smack down without descending into chaotic cursing.
But we couldn’t find anyone like that since Morgan Freeman’s stopped taking our calls after the Mexico incident, so you’ve got me instead.
Now, where were we? Oh right, the coward.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Trace has been watching this clip obsessively for a good hour now, and it isn’t even that good a clip. Just Yukio Blaze beating on him and sending him running for the hills. It’s almost like he’s punishing himself, some people get off on that stuff but not Trace.
He likes inflicting pain, not so fussed about receiving it.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rewind, replay.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rewind, replay.
Alecia Matthews: Trace Demon is running for the hills like a god damned coward!
Rew…
Wayne McGurk: I’m starting to worry about Penny.
Wayne saunters in like he owns the place. Remember who pays the bills buddy.
Wayne McGurk: Trace, did you hear me?
Trace Demon: Not really, what are you chirping on about this time?
Wayne McGurk: Penny, I’m pretty sure she’s been getting all the students stoned.
And here I thought he said there was a problem.
Wayne McGurk: Trace? God sakes man what is on that computer screen that could be more important that the fact our trainer is getting out students stoned?
Porn? Cat videos? The complete Battlestar Galactica on DVD for a rock bottom price?
Trace Demon: You know, I’ve been thinking. Do you think I might be a little bit bi-polar?
Wayne McGurk: I’ve been telling you that for years.
Trace Demon: Yeah, but it wasn’t really important when you said it. Now I’m saying it so I kind of give a crap. Like I should be angry about this, right? I used to be angry about this kind of stuff.
Wayne McGurk: What, Alecia calling you a coward or you actually running away from Yukio Blaze?
It was a tactical retreat, why does nobody else see that?
Trace Demon: But it’s like a month ago I’d have thrown some kind of hissy fit, thrown a few things around, got a bit of spit going when I was snarling down a camera having a good old time talking about how I was going to rip someone’s head off. Now it’s just like… who cares, I’m going to end Yukio Blaze anyway, why’s it matter if I get all mad beforehand?
Wayne McGurk: Yeah, that really doesn’t sound like you.
Trace Demon: I know man, I know, it’s like that cockiness everyone keeps saying I have is taking over my natural urge to be a generic angry old psycho like half the WFWF roster. Maybe I’ve got a brain tumor or something?
Wayne McGurk: You don’t have a brain tumor.
Trace Demon: You a doctor?
Wayne McGurk: No, but…
Trace Demon: Then stop dishing out medical advice. I could be dying right now and we don’t even know it. Do you know what I’d do to you if it turned out I had a brain tumor and you didn’t let me do anything about it?
It probably wouldn’t involve throwing a party for the handsome narrator in your head.
Trace Demon: I’d do nothing, because I’d be dead obviously.
There’s some real world logic right there.
Wayne McGurk: I’m telling you right now Trace, you don’t have a brain tumor. You might have a narcissism complex and a raging addiction to illegal pharmaceuticals, but you do not have a brain tumor.
That’s a former addiction to illegal pharmaceuticals thank you very much.
Trace Demon: I’m not taking medical advice from a man who dropped out of medical school.
Wayne McGurk: I never went to medical school.
Trace Demon: Exactly!
Wayne shakes his head in complete and utter disbelief. I mean everyone knows that Trace Demon has always been a few screws loose of a hardware store, but this is a whole new level of batcrap neuroticism. And that’s saying something for the man who once went to Vegas and got so trashed he hallucinated talking to himself as a kid.
And that can be considered a quiet week.
Trace Demon: Doesn’t matter, we’ll know by the end of the day whether I’m destined to fly like a soaring phoenix or have my brain rotted by some horrible growth.
Wayne McGurk: Oh god, what have you done?
Trace Demon: Well you know that guy down the hospital, the neurologist who owes me after I saved him from Winston the rampaging Buffalo?
Wayne McGurk: I really think I’d remember if something like that had happened.
Trace Demon: You know, just around the time EBR got fired by King Kraig in a completely unrelated incident?
Wayne just shakes his empty head. Huh, really seems like the type of story that you’d tell people unless you were just making it up on the spot to give some validation for why a neurologist owes you a favour. But who would need to do something like that? Seriously?
Wayne McGurk: Oh come on, please tell me you haven’t booked yourself in for an MRI?
Trace Demon: Well…
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
Some Hospital… somewhere
February 19th; 3:17pm.
Trace Demon: So what’s the deal doc, how long have I got left?
Doctor Higgenbottom, which is totally a real name, we checked, reads over the scan of Trace’s brain, Trace having just spent the better part of half an hour inside of a cramped, creepily white machine and the half an hour before that having said doctor convince him that the machine wasn’t going to suck out his intestines.
There’s a tension in the room. That kind of tension when you’re waiting to find out how long you have left to live because you already know you’ve got an inoperable brain tumor that’s stopping you from getting all riled up the moment a hot announcer calls you a coward. Yes, tension can get that specific.
The seconds tick by, Trace getting more and more nervous. He doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready to float off into the great beyond and confront nothingness / a dude with a big white beard / 7 virgins (delete as applicable). He’s certainly not ready to see all the people he hates up in heaven, though if we’re being straight up honest he’s probably deluding himself if he thinks a guy like him is getting into heaven in the first place, but we digress.
He’s crapping himself right now.
Doctor Higgenbottom: You’re absolutely fine.
Well s**t, that was anticlimactic.
< *** >
Los Angeles, California
The Demon Residence
February 19th; 6:25pm.
He throws some clothes into a suitcase without really paying much attention to what’s going in there. In truth he’s still cut up about not having a brain tumor, it’s harsh news to get that’s for sure, especially when the only other option is that you’ve gone soft because you’ve suddenly got too much money and not enough self-respect. Well, that’s a lie, the only person Trace respects is Trace. Well, himself and all those people fighting for equal rights for homosexuals, but that’s another story entirely.
Alexa Munroe: Why are you packing your bags?
There’s something about people that make them ask really stupid questions. Like “do you think that’s a good idea” and “do you want fries with that?” Only idiots ask those kinds of questions.
Trace Demon: I’m joining a convent and I’ve got to burn all my satanic garb before they’ll let me hook up with the hot young nuns.
Alexa Munroe: Be serious for a few minutes.
That’s a tough thing to ask of someone who’s just found out they don’t have a brain tumor. The woman should know better. But still Trace decides to appease her, because it’ll probably mean less problems when he comes back in a week’s time with Yukio Blaze’s blood on his hands and that ratty beard of his in a bag. What? If you’re going to symbolically, and also very physically, destroy someone who represents the worst moment of your entire life then you at least need to keep the beard so you can burn it or frame it or something.
And for future reference, it’ll definitely be burning.
Trace Demon: You know why I’m packing my bag.
Alexa Munroe: The pay per view isn’t for over another week.
Trace Demon: Okay, maybe you don’t know why I’m packing my bag. I’m going to Canada.
Canada, the cursed word.
Alexa Munroe: Every time you go to Canada you get beaten, or someone dies, or you find a long lost family member, of you try to break into the zoo because you think the gorilla shot you a dirty look and you want to set things straight. You should not be going to Canada.
Ah, that way a good day. The gorilla at the zoo one I mean, all the rest sucked balls.
Trace Demon: I can assure you that I’m not going to get in any fights, nobody is going to die, I’m pretty sure I’m out of long lost family members that we can realistically introduce at least for a few years, and I’m pretty sure that gorilla got shipped out to another zoo because it was a dick.
Yeah gorilla, he called you a dick. What are you going to do about it?
Alexa Munroe: What is going on Trace?
He takes a deep breath, it’s time to tell the truth.
Trace Demon: I’m a serial killer.
Or not.
Alexa Munroe: We both know you don’t have the time to be a serial killer.
Trace Demon: That’s true, I should make more time in the day. Thanks for that babe; it’s really good to know that you support my natural serial killer instincts.
If you didn’t know any better it would be easy to argue that he is attempting to sidestep the question, like whatever he has planned is kind of crazy, even though it… no, it probably is, it doesn’t make any sense to defend it when we all know that Trace Demon only has two kind of ideas. Good ones, and those are few and far between, and the kind of bad that leads to broken bones, ended careers, crying women and babies and the occasional acid trip.
Alexa Munroe: Give me a proper answer Trace, and remember we’ve got your one year old daughter and sixteen year old sister living under this roof as well so it better be a good one.
Ah yes, the other women in his life, his daughter Eliza and his sister Emily. It’s surprising how uneventful both of them had been as of late considering months back they took up most of his time, almost like he was right in the middle of one of those annoying lifetime movies where the moral gets lost amidst the horrible acting.
Trace Demon: It can either be proper or it can be good, it can’t be both.
Alexa Munroe: I’ll take proper for 500 Alex.
Damn, a poorly used jeopardy joke. She really knows how to get him going.
Trace Demon: Short version is that I’m going to see an old man about my early-life crisis because apparently I wasn’t lucky enough to have a brain tumor.
Alexa Munroe: And the long version?
Trace Demon: Is boring and full of pointless exposition that isn’t going to do anything but slow us down.
Somebody get in there and remind him to stop breaking the fourth wall. That’s my thing.
Trace Demon: I get it, you’re worried about me, you’re always worried about me, you’ve got every right to be, I have a history of being a mess, a nightmare, a disaster, but it gets tiring listening to the same thing over and over again. I’ve spent a year sorting my life out and I’m pretty sure everybody is getting sick and tired of hearing about it. I know I am.
Me too.
Alexa Munroe: I’m just looking out for you.
Trace Demon: And I appreciate it, but I’m on the road enough that I know how to look after myself, and it’s time to start a fresh story, one not bogged down by the past, one not bogged down by all the crap that nobody cares about any more. It needs to be all new. New house, new position of power, new focus, new everything.
Alexa Munroe: And what about all the things you can’t just run away from?
There’s so many of them, so many things that drift around in his mind, that recur in times of stress, trouble, in the worst moments possible. These are what recovering addicts call ghosts, triggers from the past that can cause a relapse, that will cause a relapse if they’re not held in check, if they’re not pushed away to such a deep dank corner of the mind that they can’t possibly dig their way back up to catch you out. Trace Demon has spent too damn long trying to do this, spent too damn long getting rid of one to find that another ghost of his past has found its way back up onto the surface. These problems are what have led him down such a dark road this past year, what have made the entire thing feel like some repetitive sitcom with the exact same formula every single time. Problem appears, links back to his past, screws him over and he comes out on top at the end of it all.
It’s gone on long enough and he has tired of the mundane nature of it all. But, like all great epic sagas in the history of mankind before the book can be shut one final obstacle has to be overcome, one final foe slain, one final chapter written before the cover can be slammed shut and a new volume started fresh. For Trace Demon that foe is Yukio Blaze, the ultimate ghost of his past, the ultimate reminder of his one great failure. All of this started with Yukio Blaze, and it must end with Yukio Blaze. So the question of what you do about all the things you can’t just run away from, the question of how you conquer a past that is so determined to conquer you, the question of how you slam shut the cover on the darkness of your mind. Well there really is only one option.
You face them head on.
Trace Demon: I don’t run, I go to war.
< *** >
Toronto, Canada
Holloway’s Dungeon
February 20th; 8:31am.
The one thing about growing up in Canada that you won’t realize until you move away is that you’ll never get properly used to weather anywhere else. Yes, this is probably a fact about anywhere, but for so many people the cold is just part of Canada’s national identity and, after spending a good twenty years living out there, it had become an element of Canadian life that he had just felt comfortable with. In fact it was the heat of a Los Angeles summer that he had never really acclimatised to. It wasn’t that he got all hot and sweaty, he just felt uncomfortable, it didn’t feel right standing outside in the blistering heat when somewhere, probably over in Canada, there was a perfectly good snow bank somewhere.
Holloway: Will you get the hell out of the snow, you’re a grown man.
Trace Demon: S**t, sorry, got a bit carried away there. I still make a damn good snow angel though.
Holloway looks like an old man compared to the last time Trace had seen him, which was only about six years ago based on the weird time scale that his life pre-WFWF seemed to go by. Maybe it was because Trace had grown and everything else seemed smaller, more feeble somewhat, or maybe Holloway had just gotten old. It happens to all of us eventually, not something you can fight unless you’re a former reality television star who ruins their face with too much cosmetic surgery. That was never going to be Trace, nobody was going to cut his face up without a fight.
Holloway: Didn’t think I’d be seeing you around here again after you sold out to the big guns.
Trace Demon: There’s a difference between selling out and becoming a worldwide success. I mean you wouldn’t know about either but not everybody can be as great as me.
Holloway: You know, you were a lot less egotistical when you first came here. A snivelling little runt, sure, but less egotistical.
’Here’ was Holloway’s Dungeon. No, it wasn’t something taken right out of a poorly written but somehow bestselling novel about sexual exploits that Trace had taken part in years before they were a twinkle in an author’s eye. It was in fact one of the most gruelling wrestling schools in Canada, which therefore made it one of the most gruelling wrestling schools anywhere because let’s face it, Canada does it better.
Trace Demon: I never snivelled. Hell the first time we met I punched you in the face.
Holloway was the guy who had taught Trace everything that he knew before he debuted in the WFWF. Yes, a lot of that was just learning how to hit harder than anybody else but that ability to brawl and take a punch got him in the door, and everything else came later when he really needed it. Still, his relationship with Holloway had never been smooth sailing, he was a hard ass vet who didn’t take crap, he’d make you run until you threw up blood and then he’d make you run some more. That was Trace’s kind of trainer, none of this coddling crap, none of this going easy on pathetic little wannabe wrestlers who don’t know a damn thing about the business.
And certainly none of this vegetarian stuff, get him a steak or get out.
Holloway: Aye, and now you’re running away from a man who looks like he’s got bugs in his beard.
Trace Demon: Truth, pretty sure I saw a cockroach in there last week.
Holloway: And yet still you ran.
Trace Demon: I don’t need no cockroaches laying eggs in my intestines. I know they do that, saw it in a newspaper last week.
Holloway leads him into the gyms office and the first thing he can think of is that this place doesn’t even have a flat screen television. That doesn’t bode well for figuring out why he isn’t the rage fuelled monster that he was once upon a time. A rage fuelled monster’s first thought would have been how much force it’d take to break the crappy desk they’re sitting around. Maybe not in those terms, rage fuelled monsters tend to have lower IQ’s than the rest of us. Just go ask Devilkiller.
Holloway: Don’t think I didn’t see you running away like a p***y on national television. You’d think that if you’re going to sell out you’d at least be good at it.
Trace Demon: I am very good. Do you not see the championship around my waist?
Holloway: No.
Trace Demon: Well that’s because I left it back at my hotel room, but the point stands. Also, remind me to call hotel security and make sure nobody steals my title belt, that things expensive.
Holloway: See that’s your problem. You’re all caught up in what’s expensive or in how much money you can make. You got all shined up and forgot how to get down and dirty with the other guys on the roster.
Trace Demon: We’re still talking about wrestling right? Because what you’re describing sounds more like guy on guy porn.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Whatever floats your boat and all that jazz.
Holloway: Will you stop making jokes and start taking yourself seriously.
Trace Demon: I’m very serious, not about the gay porn bit, I mean about wrestling but, oh you know what I mean. Would someone who isn’t serious release a sex tape featuring his nemesis’s wife? Would someone who isn’t serious take over the company from right underneath the boss’s nose? Would someone who isn’t serious…
Holloway: None of that makes you serious; it just means you’ve got a brain. Everyone’s got a brain kid.
Obviously he’s never had a conversation with a certain World Champion.
Holloway: Being serious means walking down to that ring, no matter what two-bit, sell out company you’re in and going to war every night. Being serious means being willing to bleed and risk your body every time you get into that ring. Being serious means not running away when someone comes after you simply because they’ve got the upper hand.
Trace Demon: I do all of those things. Okay, maybe not the running away thing but that happened one time. One! Out of the hundreds of times it could have happened it’s happened once, that’s a great percentile, that’s better than the Laker’s win-loss record.
Holloway: Oh please, you used to be serious, not anymore. Now you’re just a sell out and a coward. You’ll never get anywhere because you lost the will to fight and to hurt people. You’ve got content with the money and your family and the business side of things that you forgot that it’s about the fight.
Trace Demon: I’ll fight you right now.
Holloway: I’m a sixty year old man; you’re gonna beat on a sixty year old?
Trace Demon: I’m equal opportunity when it comes to beatings.
The last thing the WFWF needs is a lawsuit against its owner because he refused to kick the crap out of someone based on their age. That’d be as bad as if he had refused to beat up a midget simply because of their size, he knew better than that. All people are equal when it comes to beatings. In fact, someone remind him to get onto the WFWF’s charity department about making a public service announcement.
Trace Demon: I came here to figure out what was wrong with me…
Holloway: Did you get checked out for a brain tumor?
Trace Demon: Of course I got checked out for a brain tumor, do I look stupid to you? Anyway, like I was saying before you rudely interrupted with good medical advice, I came here to find out what was wrong with me, but I’m starting to think that there’s nothing wrong with me at all. I mean you think being serious is all about hurting people physically, but I can do more than that. I can hurt them mentally, I can hurt them emotionally, I can even hurt then fiscally and then after all that then I can still hurt then physically. Hell I can do it all at the same time. I thought that because I ran I’d lost touch, I thought that because I wasn’t pissed with being called a coward I’d lost my drive, but the truth is I’ve just found something more. I wasn’t pissed because I know the end game, I wasn’t pissed because I know that when we meet in Texas it’ll be game over for Yukio Blaze and that’s what everybody is going to remember, not who was standing in the ring the week before but who is standing tall in the ring on the night. I was a brute because I didn’t know anything else, but now I do, I don’t need to rely solely on being able to hurt and maim people because I can break them mentally as well. I’ve not slipped, I’m better than ever, b***h I’ve transcended.
Transcended? Someone reel him in before he bursts into a church and starts doing a sermon. We all know it’s coming.
Holloway: The only hurting that matters is what you do in a fight, nothing else matters.
Trace Demon: Really? Because I could buy this land right out from under you and tear this place down just because I can. And I’m pretty sure that when you’re homeless, when you’ve got no building to run your little gym, when you’ve got no building to train those pathetic losers in and you’ve got no way of making money, you tell me if it hurts. And I’ll give you a sneak peek to the answer – it will. Now if you don’t mind I’m going to storm out of here dramatically.
And that’s exactly what he does, because if there’s one thing that declares a personal breakthrough it’s storming out of a room dramatically. Wait, it isn’t? Oh screw that, the dramatic walkout is so much better.
On a side note, he did buy that land, and within a month the gym was no more. Of course he later realized he didn’t need the land so he sold it to the Koreans, just because he could.
< *** >
Dallas, Texas
The Site of WFWF Psycho Circus
February 24th; 1:54pm.
He’s always had a bit of a thing for visiting the arena when the ring crew were setting up, especially for a pay per view. There was something about sitting in that ring while everything else is being set up that just got him in the right mind set to go out and kick some ass. Epiphany or not that hasn’t changed. Sitting in the middle of that ring, looking up at the half built Psycho Circus stage, he knows that he is ready to do what has to be done; he knows that he is ready to step into the ring and exorcise the hobo-like demon that is Yukio Blaze.
Sara: You’re looking good today sir.
He knows that his nineteen year old, smoking hot secretary has a thing for him, but that’s really not relevant right now.
Trace Demon: Not the time nor the place Sara.
She clears her throat, attempts to sound professional, but they both know that the only thing either of them are likely to remember of their time working together is when she inevitably comes onto him at the next Christmas party.
Sara: Mr. Pierce wants to see you.
Trace Demon: Tell him I’m not here.
Xavier Pierce: I’m standing right here Trace, I know that you’re here.
Trace Demon: I know where you are, I was just trying to be rude because I think you’re a bit of a dick.
Sara: Um, sir.
Trace Demon: Sorry, you’re right Sara, credit where credit is due. You’re a massive dick Xavier.
This time round Sara can’t contain her laughter, drawing a glare from Pierce. If you know nothing about Xavier it’s that when he glares at you, it’s recommended to make a hasty exit. The guy used to be an arms dealer after all, and only two kinds of people would mess with a former arms dealer. Either you’re straight up stupid or, like Trace, you just don’t care.
Trace Demon: You should leave now Sara.
Sara: Thank you sir.
Sara follows orders well enough, making a hasty retreat away from the ring while Trace pushes himself up onto his feet and climbs out of it, dropping down to the ringside area where Xavier Pierce stands. For two people who are meant to be running a company together, these two hate each other.
Xavier Pierce: Is there a reason you hired the young blonde secretary instead of one of the more experienced candidates?
Trace Demon: I think we both know the answer to that one. Now, why’d you have to interrupt my quiet meditation time?
Xavier Pierce: You meditate?
Trace Demon: Well, I think about new weapons I can make to hurt Yukio Blaze, but that’s the same thing as meditation right? Going to your happy place?
Right now he was thinking of a wooden chair with toothpicks sticking out of it, though he’d have to get a really good carpenter with some seriously questionable morals to put that one together. He’d do it himself but he just didn’t care enough.
Xavier Pierce: Not exactly.
Trace Demon: Whatever, business talk, shoot.
Xavier Pierce: Alright, first off we need to talk about Phillip Schneider’s group.
Trace Demon: I’m not happy about it either man. I’m just about to put one hobo on the shelf and now we’ve got another one, only this guy’s only got the one arm. That’s not cool.
Xavier Pierce: That’s not what I meant.
Trace Demon: You’re not worried about there being a one armed hobo on television every week?
Xavier Pierce: Not particularly.
Wow, here he was thinking that a one armed hobo was creepy and would probably not look great on promotional materials. Maybe he’s one armed hobo-ist? Nah, that’s ridiculous, he hates all hobos equally.
Trace Demon: So if it’s not the one armed hobo, what’s the problem?
Xavier Pierce: The legal issues of it all, not to mention that it’s in very bad taste. I mean he’s got a girl who looks underage using the name of a dead girl…
Can you infringe on the trademark of a dead chick? God, it’s times like these that he wishes Anders was around, that crazy bastard would love legal quandaries like this to work out.
Xavier Pierce: Not to mention the trademark infringement upon Hutton Brown and that fact that we’ve now got a convicted felon hanging around.
Trace Demon: Deville? He was just running a dog fighting ring, it’s not like he killed anyone.
Xavier Pierce: Except Tha CBT.
Trace Demon: Rabies are a bitch.
Xavier Pierce: We need to deal with this before we get lawsuits and public decency complaints from all sides.
Trace Demon: I’m gonna let it slide, I like the craziness of it all. Plus the fact that those crazies are bugging you so much makes me like them even more.
Xavier Pierce: You just said you hated the one armed hobo.
Trace Demon: It’s the Mitt Romney offence Pierce, I’m flip-flopping all over the place and there’s nothing you can do about it because I’m white and republicans love me even if though I hate them.
The rich white man method, you can get anything you want except for the respect of the working classes.
Xavier Pierce: There’s something else as well. I need you to withdraw from you’re match with Yukio Blaze.
For the first time since they started working together Xavier says something that gets Trace Demon to stop in his tracks and turn around in a slow, overdramatic fashion. Withdraw from his match with Yukio? Pierce has to be joking right, this is a joke, the man’s stupid but he isn’t this stupid, he used to be a gun runner, he can’t actually be that stupid.
Trace Demon: You’re not serious right?
Xavier Pierce: It’s bad for business to have the co-owner and one of his employees beating the holy hell out of each other; it’ll ruin our public image.
He really is that stupid. How is he not dead?
Trace Demon: You’re mad, you’re beyond mad, it’s suicidal even to make the suggestion.
Xavier Pierce: But the company…
Trace Demon: I don’t give a s**t about the company right now. I’m days away from stepping into that ring and rectifying the biggest failure of my career and you want me to withdraw from the match? Are you mad, are you certifiably insane? You’re lucky I’m a changed man or I’d be grabbing the fork from my pocket and stabbing you in the eye with it and no, before you ask, you do not need to know why I’m carrying a fork in my pocket.
Xavier Pierce: You are going to ruin us if you go through with this match. You just said you’re a changed man, well change into the business man you claim to be and do the right thing for business and before you say it the right thing for business is not for the owner to carve a bloody mess out of a veteran of the company.
Funny, that seems to have worked for every other company in the history of professional wrestling.
Trace Demon: I might be a changed man but Yukio Blaze is the last thing shadow hanging over my head. He’s like a bad smell, both literally and figuratively and I can’t sit on my ass knowing that he’s there to trying to bite it like the dog that he is.
He really should try and stick to one metaphor at a time.
Trace Demon: Yukio Blaze is my tumor, and yes there is relevancy in that metaphor but unless you’ve been following me around for a week it’ll be very difficult to explain. In short I need to cut him out before he overtakes my entire being and drags me to the depths of hell. I’m going to step into that ring and I’m going to rip him apart like the dog that he is.
Seriously, we were onto a good one with the tumor metaphor and you go straight back to the dog? We really need to work on that attention span... ooh look, a shiny quarter.
Xavier Pierce: Did you just pause in the middle of a dramatic monologue to pick up a quarter?
Trace Demon: That’s beside the point. I’m going to walk into Texas, even though technically I know we’re already here, and I’m going to end Yukio Blaze forever. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to be literally anywhere else right now.
Trace out.
< *** >
Flint, Michigan
Spencer Residence
February 25th; 5:19pm.
Coming here already seems like a bad idea, and not least because the hillbilly at the end of the road has a pitbull on a really thin piece of string and Trace is pretty sure that if he got loose he’d go straight for him. That in turn makes him wonder exactly how long it takes for someone to come to the door which in turn reminds him of all of those times he’s heard someone knocking at the door and then didn’t bother to answer. God, maybe he is as rude as everybody keeps telling him, maybe he…
Oh cool, the door’s opening. Crisis of self-awareness averted.
The moment that she opens the door and sees him she almost slams it shut right there, but his hand darts out to stop her. He isn’t going to be able to do what he needs to do with a door in his way and he’s already kicked enough things down this week that his foot is kind of aching and he needs it in tip top shape for when he shoves it down Yukio Blaze’s throat.
Robin: Get the f**k out of here.
Trace Demon: You know more and more people are answering the door to me like that nowadays? I blame it on the lack of any proper educational reform.
Or it could be that you’ve systematically destroyed the mind and body of her husband while, at the same time, attempting to tear him down by weakening our outright crushing their relationship through a series of vicious and malicious actions including a sex tape and manipulated phone recording.
It probably isn’t, but it could be.
Trace Demon: I’m not here for trouble; I even made sure to check that the old hobo wasn’t in before I knocked. I just want to talk, explain some things.
Robin: I don’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth.
Trace Demon: Probably the smart thing to do, I’ve been consistently untrustworthy over the years. Can I just mention your house sucks balls? How much are we paying Yukio that he can’t afford to put his wife and kid in a decent house?
Robin: Did you come here just to insult where I live?
Trace Demon: No, it’s just a bonus. Can I come in?
She eyes him up, doesn’t know whether to punch him in the face or let him through the door. She’s much rather do the former after everything that he’s done to Yukio, but she’s always had a weak spot for Trace ever since they spent one night together. Eventually she succumbs, stepping aside and letting him through the front door, just in time too because that pitbull was giving him the evil eye.
Trace Demon: Before you get any ideas this is not going to end with us sleeping together, and I’m not saying this so that when it does happen it seems more shocking, it just isn’t going to happen. I want to cut that expectation out right now.
Robin: Just shut up and say what you want to say before I stab you with whatever’s nearest.
Should probably keep quiet about that fork that, for whatever reason sounds the most normal, is still in his pocket.
Trace Demon: I want to apologise. Where’s the kid?
Robin: I put him down for a nap. Wait, you want to apologize?
Her shocks understandable, Trace has never really been the apology type. Although she doesn’t really deserve to be shocked when she lives in a place like this, it’s downright grotty.
Trace Demon: Yeah, more to the kid than to you though. Through here?
Before she gets a chance to ask what the hell is going on Trace Demon is wandering through her house as she goes after him, attempting to get him to stop. She doesn’t want this barbarian anywhere near her son but she can’t stop him soon enough as he finds Greyson’s bedroom and just walks in, approaching the sleeping child as if it was the most casual thing in the world, instead of being totally, utterly creepy.
Robin: Get out, now.
Trace Demon: Just let me say what I have to say, and then I’ll leave, alright? No tricks this time, no hidden recording devices, no video cameras, no schemes or tricks, I just want you and your kid to understand exactly how sorry I am for what I’m about to do to your husband, to his father. You see, I’m stepping into that ring with Yukio and I’m going to hurt him, there’s no doubt about it. You know it and I know it and there’s no point arguing any other way, he’s going to get hurt and he’s probably never going to be the same again.
Which reminds him, he needs to get a quote on the toothpick chair before he flies back out to Texas.
Trace Demon: I want you to know, both of you, that this isn’t something I want to do. Well the brutally beating Yukio Blaze bit is something I really want to do, but the bit where I leave you and your son with a vegetable as a husband and father isn’t, it’s just collateral damage, you know? So if, when something happens, when I do something to him that can never be undone until science makes some crazy leaps in neurological repairs, I just want you to know that I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Because I’m a nice guy.
Robin: You’re an bunghole. You came round my house to tell me that, you came round to my house to tell me that you intend to cripple the man that I love, the cripple the father of my child? What is wrong with you you disgusting son of a b***h.
Well it’s certainly not a brain tumor, we got that checked.
Trace Demon: Well no, I actually came round here to tell you’re son something.
He turns to the child who, once sleeping, has now been woken by the sound of his mother’s distress. While Robin watches on, shaken to her very core by his words which, let’s be honest, have the slightest hint of being a sociopath to them.
Trace Demon: One day kid, when you’re older and you don’t look like a tiny, ugly potato, you’re gonna want to come after me for crippling your old man; you’re going to want revenge against the guy who made sure that the only things your father is capable of doing is pissing himself. Now when that day comes you’ll know how to find me, I’ll be the guy who owns half the world by then, and when that day comes… I recommend you do nothing. I’m here to tell you not to bother, because I’d hate to end two generations of Blaze inferiority. I’d hate to…
He turns and faces Robin to deliver the killer final line, because that’s how men like him do it, that’s how kings do it.
Trace Demon: But I won’t hesitate. Robin, if you see your husband before the pay per view you give him a kiss, you tell him you love him, because it’ll be the last time he’s got the sense to understand. And don’t worry…
He pauses, glances back at the physically shaken wife of the man he intends to butcher.
Trace Demon: I’ll let myself out.
< *** >
Oh Yukio! Yukio! I know you’re listening to me, I know you’re frothing at the mouth to hear what I have to say, I know you’re hanging on my every word. How do I know this? Because I’m in your head Yukio, I’ve burrowed right on into your mind and now every time you close your eyes you see me. Every time you go to sleep you see me. Every time you try and rest you see me. I’m like a nightmare except when you wake up, I’ll still be here, chipping away at your sanity piece by piece. Chip, chip, chip… oops, there goes another bit, not like you need it though, not going to need your mind at all after Psycho Circus. You know it’s true, don’t you Yukio? You know I’m not making it up this time, you know there’s no getting away from this, not this time round, there’s no running, there’s no escaping, there’s nowhere to hide, I’m in your head and I’m not going away. I’ve found prime real estate and I’m going to build a slaughterhouse in here.
Now you know how I felt when I saw you, when I saw your disgusting face at Survival of the Fittest. It was like I was Macbeth and you were my Banquo, I was the king and you were the ghost trying to send me into the depths of madness. But the problem with that is I’ve already been there, I’ve spent my life in madness and only now have I found my own special sense of sanity. Only now do I know what real clarity feels like, and that is why you’ve come back Yukio! You’ve come back to try and steal my clarity away from me. I bet you thought it’d be easy, I bet you thought when Xavier Pierce offered you another chance that you could walk through that door, through my door, and that you would just be welcomed back with open arms. I bet you thought you’d show up and your presence alone would tip me over the edge enough so that you could put me down just like you’ve always wanted to do. And I mean maybe, once upon a time, it would have been that easy, maybe once upon a time all it would have taken was to see your face and I would’ve plummeted back into the depths of insanity… but not anymore Yukio, not anymore.
I found clarity in your absence Yukio Blaze, I discovered my true capabilities outside of just being able to inflict pain. I discovered how far I can take this thing, how far I can push the envelope without just resorting to violence and vitriolic rampages. Now sometimes that’s what’s needed, and we’ll get to that in just a few moments but first I want to say… thank you. You provided me not only with the perfect opportunity to show what I am capable of now that I can see straight, but you also gave me the chance to vanquish the very last ghost that haunts me. You see you came back Yukio and I realized that the one thing that I cannot let go off is that loss from nearly four years ago. That night when I stepped into the ring in Texas and I had that bullrope wrapped around my wrist, wrapped ever so tightly around my skin and bone, and I went to war with their Random Hero. That was going to be my crowning moment, that was going to be the night that I could look back on and say right there, I made it.
But you took that from me. I didn’t get the job done. You beat me, you put me down for the three and no matter how much blood I split, no matter how much pain I inflicted upon you the only thing that I remember of that night is staring up at the ceiling as the referee counted three. It’s haunted me for too damn long! So when you came back, I knew… I knew that this was my chance to put that to rest but that I couldn’t just do it by breaking your body, I had to break your mind. I had to twist it and bite it and taste your misery as it leaked into the ether. And suddenly, it was like it all just fell into place. Because that night that I spent with your whore of a wife all those years ago suddenly became very useful Yukio, because I knew that showing you the truth about her would ruin you. I knew that showing you exactly how I had soiled her body before you ever got the chance would destroy you. So I dug my nails in and I tore and I ripped and I bit away at every single piece of purity in that so called relationship of yours and it was oh so easy.
I had to goad you Yukio, I had to bring you to the edge. I had to make sure that the Yukio Blaze I’m facing is as twisted and broken as I once was. I need to make sure that you would go the distance before we returned to the sight of my greatest failure. Because I couldn’t have you coming in worried about your family, I couldn’t have you tied to me knowing that in the back of your mind the images of your whore wife and bastard child would hold you back. I needed you to be ready for a war because then and only then would I be able to end you once and for all. A beating is not good enough, a beating is not going to give me the satisfaction that I so crave, no… it needs to be a damn war! I need you to come into this with all of the anger and the rage and the twisted and bruised mind that I have created within you so that you can hit me as hard as I’m going to hit you. I don’t want to drag you to hell; I want us both to go there together! And that’s what’s going to happen Yukio, we’re both going to end up bruised and bloodied and broken but I am going to be the only one left standing.
You see Yukio, I have found clarity, I know how to get the job done with my mind as well as my fists but there comes a time when the only way that something can be ended once and for all is by truly going to war. And what better way to do it that by revisiting the very sight… the very match of what started all this? Sure the name’s changed, it’s not a rip off of a film this time, but everything else remains the same. In 2009 at Texas Chainsaw Massacre it was Trace Demon against Yukio Blaze in Texas in a Texas bullrope match. And now, in 2013 at Psycho Circus it will be Trace Demon against Yukio Blaze in Texas in a Texas bullrope match. Look at the symmetry, it’s like it was meant to be, like this was some kind of divine plan laid out all those years ago! Back then it was a war that I didn’t win but back then I didn’t see things as clearly as I do now, back then I wasn’t dealing with a bitter old man. The differences are there, they’re small, minor little pieces of a jigsaw, but they matter all the same.
I have waited for this for too damn long to let it split through my fingers once again. Yukio, we step into the ring for a very literal rematch but this will not end the same way. I will tear at your flesh, I will smell your blood and I will taste your fear as it drifts through Texas like a plague upon your own soul. There is no escape, there is no running away there is just me, the clear king, and you, the broken down fool. This will be a war but it is one that I cannot allow myself to lose, one that I will not forgive myself for losing. This is a war and it is an ending. It is your ending. I put you down for the final time. I will leave you as a bloodied mess and it will be over. This is the truth that I know. This is my end and my beginning. I will rise from your bloodied corpse and then… only then…
My true terror can begin.
