December 15th, 2020
Rebecca Hines watches the door open to the coffee shop and then looks back down to her phone. She is dressed in warm clothes today and her brunette hair is tied into a ponytail. A steaming cup of coffee sits in front her as she waits for it to cool down. Every time the door opens, she looks up and after the fifth time Sandy Reed-Lawson walks into the coffee shop. Rebecca puts her hand up and Sandy sees right away and walk over to the table. They nod at each other and Sandy sits down.
“Do you need a coffee?” Miss Hines asks, afterwards she blows the team from her coffee and takes a small sip.
Sandy shakes her head, “no, I would rather get whatever this is supposed to be…over.”
She smiles innocently back to Sandy and puts her coffee back down on the table, “I think getting you out of your office is better for my mind set.”
“Right, so what is it you want to complain about now, Rebecca?”
Rebecca rolls her eyes and add a bit more creamer to her coffee. “I want to know how you took care of the whole Miracle Milk fiasco and what you are planning.”
Sandy stares at Rebecca with a tiny frown cracking her face for a quick second. “Oh…you think you deserve explanations now? Heh, well I had nothing to do with that.”
“It is not like the news of you talking to one of the customers did not reach my ears. What exactly were you doing with that lady? Steve is an asshole but since I cannot leave, I would like to be kept in the loop on things that might harm me.”
Sandy sighs, “I was just seeing what she knew and passed on the information to that that MAN. He is the only one that has the contacts and power to make it seem like Steve was a victim.”
She takes another sip of her coffee and makes a refreshing noise, “what is the point in saving him from this? He probably would have just gotten a fine.”
“HE does not want to take any chances and have Steve blabbering about the island. That is not something he wants to risk.”
Sandy nods towards Rebecca, “you know…right?”
Rebecca raises her eyebrow and blows on her coffee, “uh…of course. Anyway, what will it take for me to be allowed to leave?”
SRL looks down at her watch, “I think you know the answer to that but why is this coming up again?”
“Have you seen him recently? He is a maniac and a down right piece of shit. Being around him makes my skin crawl right now.”
“You need to just try to control him from doing anything stupid. If HE gets involved again it will look bad for you.”
Rebecca shakes her head, “nobody can seem to tell him anything but this new bodyguard he has.”
She takes another small sip of her coffee the cup cupped in her hands. She holds it under her chin and continues, “He started a few weeks ago and he seems to at least have Steve’s respect, so he listens to him, but the guy is weird. Sometimes he is clam and helpful and sometimes he just seems to be elsewhere.”
Sandy starts tapping her fingernails on the table looking amused by what she just heard. “That is interesting, who is this guy?”
“WHAT!” She exclaims almost jumping from her chair, she looks around and pats herself down trying to calm herself and then leans forward, “did you say William Morris?”
Rebecca leans back a little surprised by Sandy’s outburst, “yea.”
Sandy continues to lean forward, worry now on her face, “he is not supposed to be in America.”
“Wait…you know him?”
Sandy sighs and nods slowly, “yes, he works for my husband and I do not know anything about him coming to work with Steve.”
Rebecca puts the coffee down as her heart rate doesn’t need it with this information beginning to worry her. “He is here, Sandy so what’s the deal?”
“He is great at his job, but he enjoys it and it seems like he NEEDS it at times.”
“Enjoys protecting people?”
Sandy laughs, “no…hurting people.”
She nods, “well sometimes you have to hurt people when you are guarding people.”
Her smile fades, “I think we have a misunderstanding about what he enjoys—most.”
December 16th, 2020
Miracle Enterprise Apartments
The sound of running water surprises Steve Harrison as he rolls over to his left while inside his bed. He looks over at the clock on the bed stand and it reads 4:32AM. He groans, this was way too early for him to be waking up just days away from ICONIC. He had spent the day before doing some cardio at the gym in the Apartment complex and being alone as Rebecca had still not contacted him since she left during the meeting. He takes his left foot and places it on the cold wood floor. He shivers, “ugh,” is whispered, his right foot following to his left to the floor.
He stands up and stretches his arms to the ceiling. His right elbow makes a small cracking noise that he follows up with loud sigh and begins walking towards the sound of the water. He gets outside the bathroom where humming is heard and water still running. Harrison looks around for something to use to defend himself and decides on a letter opener that was on top of the table fifteen feet away from the bathroom door in between the TV and couch in the living room.
“Hey, who is in there?”
“You can come in, Steve,” the almost robotic voice of William Morris says.
Steve grabs the knob to the bathroom door slowly with a confused look on his face. “Uh…please don’t make this weird.”
The Miracle Man jumps back as the door flies open showing William turning back to the sink where he is washing his hands. “Nothing to see.”
Harrison angry from almost having a table implanted on his face responds to Morris, “dude, what the fuck is your deal? I haven’t heard from you in days and now you almost broke my nose.”
Will continues washing his hands, “Sorry, I know its late do you need anything?”
Steve stares at him washing his hands which seems to be the longest hand washing oh all time to him, “your hands get really dirty or something?”
“You could say that.”
Harrison lets out another groan and walks into the bathroom, “could you be anymore vague, Will? You are supposed to help Miracle Enterprise not disappear while not protecting me from the horrible hooligans of the wrestling community.”
The bodyguard of the Miraculous One smirks, “what did you think I was doing?”
Steve looks down in the sink and sees red spots all over it. “Uh…what is that?”
Morris starts rubbing the sink with his soapy hands, “even when you are prepared sometimes you still have to deal with this.”
“Deal with—what exactly?”
“Blood,” Morris says nonchalantly, blood obviously not being something that makes him squeamish. Blood is just something that occurs when you do your job correctly has always been the mind set of William Morris. To be an assassin, to survive jail, and to fight for Harrison’s trainer since he got out of jail has made blood the only constant in his life.
“Wait…why is there blood in the sink?”
He turns the sink off and uses some paper towels to dry his hands. He tosses the paper towel into the trash can and then bends down and grabs a bottle of bleach from the counter under the sink and places it on top. “I forgot my own strength and blood just kind of splattered all over the place.”
Steve raises his left eyebrow in confusion, “Ok, so whose blood is this? Should I call an ambulance?”
William start laughing loudly. Steve’s eyes open wide no longer tired after hearing that laugh. “Oh, no, hahahaha, sorry Steve. This is definitely not my blood.” Morris stops laughing and begins pouring bleach into the sink and using a sponge to wash the entire inside. He stops and reaches to his back pocket where he pulls out some paper. “Oh yea, here you go,” he hands Steve the paperwork and puts the sponge under the hot water and continues his cleaning process.
Harrison looks at and nods with a smile, “Oh man, you got the contract signed huh?” Steve flips the pages and stops at the last page. He puts it closer to his face as if he is reading something he doesn’t understand, “wait…what is this?”
Morris looks up quickly, “my signature.”
“Yes, I see that. This area you signed is supposed to be blank so I can sign it and get my revenge on those bastards.”
He puts the bleach away and washes his hands again, “you were going to make this into a wrestling contest when it should be treated as a private manner.”
“So, that blood…”
“What the hell, Will. This is not something you change at the last minute. I was to get my vengeance on those guys and make them eat that ruined suit when I was done humiliating them with suplex after suplex.”
He shrugs towards Steve, “that is stupid, Steve. I am here to stop you from doing personal things that will endanger you. This is my job and…I enjoy it.”
“I guess I understand but this also feels like you are going against my wishes,” Steve replies his face red in anger. “Can I at least throw eggs at them or something?”
William bends down and grabs the trash bag from the can and ties a knot in it. He walks out of the bathroom the bag in his left hand and pats Steve on the shoulder. “No, there is nothing for you, boss.” He continues walking and right out the front door still holding the trash bag.
The Man of all the Miracles just stares as the door closes behind William. He walks over to his couch and slumps down on it and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “No, huh and did he say he enjoyed it…exactly what did he enjoy?” He moves his body and lies down back down on the couch and stares at the ceiling unable to fall back asleep as he ponders what just occurred.
Happy Birthday—said nobody but a ceiling I stared at for two hours. It spoke just as much back to me as anyone else these days. I suppose those crazy dreams I have would tell me it is my fault. I am not sure my unconscious mind could understand Mr. Morris right now though. I am not sure I want answers to questions I am not sure I should even ask. I am not sure what comes next and I am not sure if I can trust my new bodyguard. It would just be like anyone else in my life, always keep them at a distance.
I am not perfect.
I have never gone on a tirade about me being perfect. I am just an amazing entrepreneur and wrestler that people have decided to put more pressure on. It is a tactic that people use to try to get you off your game. They want to blow up that asshole so when you have a huge opportunity you end up shitting all over yourself. Sorry, I am not going to accept any platitudes from people who don’t know me. You sign a contract with ME and maybe we can talk about how much your opinion means to me. Of course, there are different levels to his shit and when I look out at HOW the only person constantly trying to beat a level is a pasty toddler who literally plays video games all day. Suffice to say…I guess I am always going to be by myself.
Laugh when you want to scream.
Someone told me that…once…not sure who or when but it seems to have made an impression on me.
This type of life will help me when I have to concentrate on wrestling multiple people. All eyes on me and all eyes on everyone else, it will just take a reaction faster than others to make my impact felt. That is what I am focusing on because I have two legends and a prick to deal with.
Odds are the same for all of us but if you were Lee Best and a betting man…hah…you know the money goes on The Miracle Man to hold HIS LSD title high in the air at the end of the match. I don’t care what the stipulation is anymore either. There is nothing that can stop me from getting to my goal.
Oh wow, let me get my Dan Ryan trapper keeper out to make a note that Lindsay Troy just mentioned it was my Birthday and said…
…. Oh, wait it’s sarcasm isn’t it?
It started so well and had my attention because as you mentioned it is all about ME. Then you became a condescending fool.
I tapped? No kidding, I could have sworn I told you to get your laughs out of the way about that and here you are doing just that. I am happy you take my words to heart and got hypnotized into doing everything I said you were going to do. Makes you quite the creative force to watch out for.
EYE ROLL INITIATED.
It is fine though because as you stated it was like a Birthday Gift for yourself to see me hit the mat and lose my first match. I am sure you and the crew had a few high balls and laughs that night but then came back to reality when you realized what happened is not something you can accomplish. You cannot beat me let alone make me tap out. You will just grab for my arm and be turned around for the Enlightenment you sorely need.
Let me admit something to you, LT. I have nothing bad to say about your staying power or heart to keep fighting in HOW. I never said you were a coward. I am just sick of you…the person.
The mom of wrestling.
The arrogance is suffocating from you, LT. You constantly talk down to everyone else because you have had a long career and some success. Now you think it is a badge of honor to just read out loud all the big LOSSES you have had in HOW.
I survived Dan Ryan.
I survived Max Kael
I survived Mike Best’s little coke dick.
Someone should give me a fucking badge for surviving having to listen to this humorless hag.
This isn’t about survival any longer. I am not trying to retire you or wheelchair you to an Assisted Living home. I am laying claim to a title I have had a right to fight for, for over two months. You think you have had to fight for your chances? I have fought and won and not received them because life isn’t unicorns and rose, LT. It is a fucking tornado that does not care what you have planned when it is rolling over your house.
For ICONIC I plan on being that Tornado because your dreams, Jatt’s dreams, and Pikey dreams mean absolutely nothing to me. I will roll over you and leave mass destruction in my wake. I am not a little joke you can brush aside with conman insults.
That is your go to, right?
Watch out for that conman, sorry…boring conman. Heh, yea I am real boring says that bland red head with a goddess of wrestling complex. Is there a goddess of tedious bullshit?
Congrats, hun, you are moving up in the mythical world.
Just to be petty ask my bank account how unsuccessful I have been? The Holy Water alone has made my life comfortable, at the moment. But don’t think for one second that the next awesome Miracle Enterprise product isn’t right around the corner. Maybe I can use all your many faults to find something to fix about you, but I need a down payment from you for the research. It is hard to find someone that would want to waste their time investigating you and all your yawn inducing speeches.
I don’t expect to just show up and win at ICONIC.
I expect to win because I have put in the work to succeed. You are the champ, LT but I have been the person everyone is concentrating the most on and there is a reason for that. I not just a threat. I am the uncrowned LSD Champion coming for what is HIS and I will not be stopped. None of you can stop me.
I am coming for all your scalps and I will do a fucking rain dance afterwards.
Is that wrong to say?
Well, I am just being honest.
Honest Harrison, the man you can all believe in.
Do a bow, do not look in my eyes, and bring me gifts.
Jatt Starr, get all of the foods you enjoy when you are depressed together because this isn’t your Rudy story. This is me forcing you to sit in front of your TV after this match and eating pint after pint of Ben and Jerrys Ice Cream. Hey…at least they help the world with their charities so you would actually be giving back to the world instead of just gorging on it.
I wish I had at least one Carton of Miracle Milk left so I could put Gilda’s ugly face on it but at this point she is probably at the bottom of some swap John Sektor lives close by to. Oh well, I will not lose sleep over the disappearance of your child since you aren’t. I imagine this is a vacation for you but I am guessing the few short weeks she was wrestling was the most time you ever spent with her.
I mean I can understand it would be difficult for you to look at her when she is probably the product of your wife’s affair with…name any delivery company I doubt she was picky at that time.
I mean come on, Jatt—do you even enjoy touching yourself? I am certain you are an expert at the stranger. Sit on your hand and wait till its numb and go to town, perv.
You are nothing but a loss foot waiting to happen because of sweets and if I can quicken up the pace of that at ICONIC I most certainly will.
When a real medical professional (and not the kid who gave you GHB in the parking lot) clears you to wrestler give me a call and maybe I will give you a shot at my NEW LSD title.
Oh great look everyone he is back, ugh.
Someone say a fucking prayer for me because I am literally going to lose my breath by yelling told you so repeatedly. I don’t trust that mother fucker and knew he had some pikey magic left in that fatality punch and I am happy. I am currently smiling because I didn’t want that SOB to leave this world before I have the chance to snap his neck once more.
Welcome back to the living you proud pikey piece of shit. I look forward to showing you that any mind games you prepare cannot work on someone who doesn’t trust anyone. You had your laugh at our expense but lets not pretend that it matters when the bell rings and you have to perform more than a Hail Mary punch from an arm that I worked over quite easily the last time we met in that ring.
Pikey Art at its finest, trying to find any sort of advantage it can create for itself because it knows it is lacking in actual artistic integrity. Blood, spit, and questionable sexual acts can only bring you so far, so this is your last gasp effort. There are no more excuses left for you to whine “fuck off,” about now. You have no more temper tantrums left in your system; I hope. If you take your ball home one more time, please just contact your buddy Eric Dane and head to whatever indie shit fed he ran away too.
This just reeks off “hey gotcha.” Having your little pet talk shit about me on your behalf so you can avoid the pressures of having to defend your bullshit is pathetic. Just paint a fucking yellow streak down your back and get it over with you, you Pikey coward.
It is cute.
I don’t see any reason to pivot to you since you and that dog are about as different as potato and potato.
Let’s just call your title shot OFF. My vocals make Neil Diamond sound like a fraud.
You understand, Phony Freeman?
I will be honest. I could go on and on about how disappointing this entire charade has been but that would take more energy then you deserve, mate.
Nobody missed you, Freeman. I heard downloads of Sweet Caroline plummeted 100% after you faked your death so that is another great aspect of your death.
Now the fun begins, Hughie–for me.
I expect you to accept the outcome when I win at ICONIC.
No more complaining and no more faking your own death. Come to me face to face and ask for a match after I win and don’t hide behind falsehoods.
Reality is the real killer.
I am just the guide for you.
“Did you think I would not hear about William Morris?”
“It is not like that. I just heard myself today.”
“You know what this looks like, right?”
“It looks like your husband is trying to use my son to get what he wants from me.”
“It is nothing like that, plus I know exactly who Jack Marley has been reporting to.”
“I am sure. When William Morris begins working for Steve that gives me pause. We both know what he is best at and having someone that close makes me worried.”
“I think you know who I am looking out for here.”
“Of course, let me talk to my husband about this new situation because it also surprised me.”
“Hmmm…glad I got a bug on her…this might be my ticket out of here.”
Rebecca Hines, amateur sleuth.