Wayne McGurk Crimson Existance RP: Beggar's Moon

CHAPTER 2
AMIDST THE DARKNESS, Wayne felt the light shining through; the dark-blue speckles of light and the spaces of eternal black gave way to piercing shades of fuchsia. Wayne opened his eyes and saw the sun shine brightly above him; the ridges around both his eyes were slowly closing- squinting. Wayne lay on his back and felt small particles of dust beneath him. He sat up to find the desert; he was smiling. He didn’t care where he was- the man was where he wanted to be.

I let myself grow soft…

What happens in the ring and when I’m alone are two completely different things. I can almost say I lead two lives. I’ve allowed strangers into my space and invited them to watch me at my weakest; and I’ve allowed to watch me at my strongest. And the man that they saw we’re two completely different versions of myself. I’ve shown you a blood-thirsty competitor, while looking in from the outside at the same man- a loving husband and a doting father. But you see my problem in all this is that I began to confuse both these lives. I found it hard to distinguish the difference between my occupation as a wrestler and the hole I tread home to when they lights fall down.

So strong are the ties, so similar, but yet there’s no way I can’t let them be together. Despite the fact that my body felt like a sack of **** at the time, I can honestly tell you that I deeply enjoyed beating the living hell out of Justin Tyme. I didn’t care for the man; wasn’t like I didn’t like him, I just didn’t care. But I felt so strong and euphoric as we were beating him; the er. I didn’t care if it was out there for the whole world to see, because I wanted the whole world to see what we had just done; to see the justice unfold before their eyes. I wanted every being with beating heart to bare witness to our blood stained hands; everyone, but one. One little girl waiting for me. One little girl who stares up at me, grabs my chin, and calls me Superman; my daughter. I’m not an innocent man, and I don’t give a if I live in an impure world; my soul is its own. But I do my best, everyday, whenever I can, to protect my daughter from this. It isn’t like she’ll understand- someday she’ll know. She just doesn’t deserve it and I don’t want her to have it. All she needs I what I can give. And that belt’ll be a step closer.

I’m doing it again… I’m confusing my personal life with that of my professional one.

Wayne burrowed through his jeans and found a cigarillo. He placed the stick between his lips and went back looking for a light.

Hey Macabre… Got a kid of your own? If anything, I’ll tell you they lighten up the place. They can be a pain the ass everyone in the while, but it passes.

What surprises me about you is there’s a lot of good shining through the mask; it’s only an observation. Guy like you, I’dve figured violence would be almost second nature to you. But I don’t really see that, now do I, poncho?

The heat was getting to him; man, getting moist around the pits and the ass. The pits were nothing, but that sweat between the cheeks just lingers all over you. Staying there until you get the chance to wipe your ass; . He wanted a beer.

In fact, he hadn’t had a clue as to where the hell he was. He was somewhere; wasn’t nowhere near Korea. He knew that. He looked around and saw miles and miles of sand- nothing but plain nothing ness. He started walking… At least he was by the sand.

Macabre, I missed out on the shot at facing you last week. I was there; I was ****; got nothing whatsoever to show for it. My philosophy was that you were the challenge- a new face. Reverend Shadow, he was my ultimate test. He beat me, and it wasn’t like it was a fluke. He’s got the credentials. I kept my eye on Justin Tyme and for that I got clotheslined- you’ve felt it, and it does not feel like a clothesline. If anything, it feels like someone damn near decapitated you. I wanted to put you away and pin Reverend Shadow. You don’t know how much I wanted to do that. But on Crimson Existence, he doesn’t matter- nothing does. He’s got his own **** to deal with and I wish him well. I’ll get to complete one accomplishment friend, and that is to put you away.

I know who you are, you dominated the WFWF at a time where I was jobbing to next coming lowlife. You see, within that time, I changed. I took my life into a new direction, and for that I’ve remained almost undefeated; you were only luck on Felo-de-se. On, Crimson Existence, Wayne McGurk promises to deliver the present I should have given you one week ago. That I promise.

Macabre you are a monster, and to be completely honest, I’m afraid. I fear you, but yet I want so much to beat you. But I’m scared. I don’t know what you’re going to do to me. And if I were to lose… then I most certainly dread conjuring the dire consequences. I’m afraid of losing that shot at the WFWF World Heavyweight Championship. I’m afraid of losing a match… And if indeed I do fail, then I dread the consequence of a losing streak. Because it can happen. Because, if I were to go down, not only would it effect my professional life, but my personal one as well. I can not face that, not again anyway. And I may sound redundant, but Macabre, if you had a wife and a kid waiting for you, you wouldn’t help but conjure the same thing. I don’t know what to expect out of this- could be anything. But just know that for a rare occasion, I will have my entire life on the line for a match. You see, by beating you, then the stress of my incompetence will be washed clean. You would understand if you had a family of your own.

But that’s where you and I stand divided. If you we’re to ask me if I ever wanted a family seven years ago, I would laugh back, shake a bottle of Smirnoff and walk away. I knew ****. But you see, I allowed myself to become available to something new, something I didn’t want in the first place. I felt the longing inside me, and I wasn’t too proud to admit that I love Vanessa and that I cried tears of joy when I heard the news that Scarlet was going to come into my life.

You, because of that sack of **** you tell yourself, you deny yourself of any lasting happiness. Yes, there is a comfort in being sad. And that’s all you have. And for that, you hate. You can’t see past the anger, because for you happiness is wrong. It’s the same way hardcore punk rats would rather scream incoherently to some **** ass song, than sing with joy to the sound of Pete Townsend’s “Let My Love Open The Door”. It’s the same reason why depressed Beatles fans would rather light a joint and cry to some John Lennon song (which, in the end are always the same) than dance to Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Song”; you know what I call those people: adolescents. Stop being a ing teenager and accept happiness.

You can either be an a**hole and **** on everything that comes along, or take everything that comes to you and find a silver lining. Why go on with the rest of your life with a ing headache? It’s because it’s all you want and that is why you are week beyond the brawn.

I can say more and continue to piss on what you have left of a life. But I’m going to back off. I’ve said enough. I’ve got enough to drive into Crimson Existence with a plan and a smile.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

… And yeah, for them, for all of us, it’s definitely worth it.

*
IT WAS CLOSE; just appeared out of nowhere. Wayne dropped to his knees; dear God, let this be true. It was so close he could touch it- coming and growing larger with every new step. Wayne stood, wiped the sand off his knees and continued waling towards it. He was near, and it wasn’t no mirage. It was the real ****; a bar. A God honest bar in the middle of nowhere… Thank you Jesus; give me a beer.

As Wayne approached the bar, which looked just as good as any Tijuana hole, he saw an elderly gentleman having a smoke by the stucco building. He was familiar- couldn’t be him. Wayne motioned closer and the man caught his gaze and smiled. Wayne was close enough to know the man was smoking a joint. It couldn’t be.

Don’t just stand there Wayne. Come.

Louie?

Jesus… Can’t you for once color me father?

What are you doing here?

Well I can see you can’t!

Louie, answer me, what are you doing here?

The question is what are you?

I don’t know.

Then neither do I.

Where are we?
He was being the child again.

One thousand miles from nowhere; down south of somewhere. Your guess is as good as mine.

Louie came closer; Wayne was feeling hesitant.

Don’t just stand there. Come on in and have a drink with me.

Louie began to lead Wayne into the bar.

What’s your poison for this evening?

I just want a beer.

Wait ‘til you try Cherry Beer; Belgian ****. Like nothing you’ve ever tasted.

I’m fine with a Corona or a San Miguel.

Wayne, have I ever lied to you?

Wayne wasn’t going to answer that.

*

WAYNE GAVE IN and ordered a bottle of Cherry Beer.

It ing tasted like a Shirley Temple. No disrespect to the virgin in general, but he did not want to drink this; not now anyway. He wanted to taste that blend of malt, yeast, barley, and rye. He wanted that cold refreshing bite of a sip- he wanted a real damn beer.

Give me a Corona!

They had taken a seat by the counter.

It’s your loss.

That’s fine. You know a glass of Shirley Temple only costs a quarter of this?

Louie reached for the Wayne’s bottle of Cherry Beer.

It ain’t no Cherry Beer.

So, how’ve you been?
Had to start somewhere.

I could do better. But look at you.

Yeah.

In one year, you have accomplished so much more than I ever could.

Don’t say that.

You have. God, I remembered taking you to all my matches. MSG was always something special- despite the fact that I lost every match I had there.

Didn’t you lose every match you had?

And the apple don’t fall far from the tree!

I wrestled there last June; I lost.

A family tradition- I’ll toast to that!

Hey Darla, give my boy here a bottle of Corona!

The bar was indeed a hole; kind of thing you’d find along the southwest and Mexico. Pale emerald walls giving way to squeaking hardwood floors. This was the kind of place that accommodated every God loving lowlife that came along its path. You had bikers, families, musicians, business men… All sorts of different people. What surprised Wayne was the family over on the corner booth; the hell did they get here? Damn, that must’ve been through ****. Place like this, it’d make a hell of a National Lampoon flick.

There was a band playing on a stage playing hard rock; Chicano’s. Just like the Japanese and Pro Wrestling, Wayne believed that Chicano’s or Meztiso’s played the best Hard Rock. It wasn’t too heavy; it was just perfect. The kind of distilled Rock’n’Roll that Wayne always considered to be the real sound of his soul; badass. The band on stage was no different- they we’re definitely better than anything on the radio.

Darla, a blond haired, blue-eye’d, sweet looking; big titted waitress brought Wayne over the Corona. She gave him a smile. A smile that was enough to shine through his heart and smile back at her. She leaned before him; slowly inching her way close to Wayne’s ear. She was whispering:

Honey, if there’s anything you need. Don’t be afraid to ask.

Wayne’s left had a firm grip over the bottle. Her’s reached over his and ran her fingers over his ring finger; feeling his wedding ring. She winked and walked away.

Thank you, dear.

Louie took his bottle of Cherry Beer and raised it high.

If I could get everyone’s attention for one minute… Now, tomorrow night, December 20th 2006, my son will embark on his first real steps to greatness when he takes on that mask-wearing sideshow, Macabre. Wayne had already made a great accomplishment a few months back when he became the International Champion. Just think he’s the only champion in that Federation! Let us wish him luck tomorrow night, and pray for a victory. And if is to return unsuccessful, may he rise even more powerful and determined than before.
All hail the Revolution!
All hail the Revolution!
Cheers!

Everything stopped.

Louie leaned over and took a long good sip of the Cheery Beer.

For the first time in eight years, Wayne embraced his father. He closed his eyes, and held himself back from shedding tear; couldn’t do it here. Not now. Louie embraced Wayne and kissed his son in the forehead.

Thanks Louie.

You need it.

He did it again. Louie McGurk had never been there for his son, but there were those moments when Louie would show his son admiration. He did it in small ways, nothing for major, but to father who had just remembered what it was like being a son again, Louie had given him the world.

They returned over to the counter.

So tell me, how are the girls.

You’ve never seen Scarlet have you?

Not yet. I doubt I ever will.

I know.
Wayne accepted it; there was no way he couldn't.

Wayne pulled out his pocket and took out a picture of Scarlet; the one they took backstage a before the Asian tour.

Is this her?

Yeah.

She’s has Vanessa’s smile; and your eyebrows.

Thanks.
Wayne pulled out another picture, one of Vanessa.

My God, she’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

Wayne had the picture in his hand, and stated into her eyes- she lit him up. He couldn’t help it.

You’re the lucky one. She’s beautiful, smart, funny; the most I had was a woman to tried to place an old Schaghticoke curse on my penis.

You had it coming.

Maybe I did. It wasn’t like your mother was trying… She just let herself go. It says something by now wanting to care about herself; showed a disregard for our relationship.
Wayne never saw it that way.

Wayne handed the photos to Louie.

You can have it.

I couldn’t.

Just think of it as something to hold onto.

Thank you.

I going to take a leak-

What a way to kill a moment.

Cliché. Where the toilet?

Down the right past the stage.

Wayne motioned out of the stool and pat Louie on the back. Despite not knowing where he was, Wayne was comfortable. He liked the place, he was having fun. There was no way he was going to allow himself to leave too soon. Wherever it was, it was a break from the rest of the world and it was what he needed most. H e knew he’d return to where he came from, but that was in due time. He was going to enjoy where he was and while he was at it, he was going to share more alcohol and tobacco with his father.

The band was now playing a rendition of Razorback’s “Seer of Vision”. Wayne had walked past the stage and was coming into the restroom. And then he tripped.