An All Time Low

An All Time Low

Posted on February 4, 2022 at 8:21 pm by Steve Harrison

 

January 31st, 2022?

Philadelphia, PA

Red Roof Inn.

 

I opened my eyes and couldn’t see.  I started to panic inside my head until I realized it had seemed that I took my shirt off and stopped with it around my head.  Must have been a good night I thought to myself, a smile coming to my face as if I was Conor Fuse getting a free PS5.  I moved the shirt back down and sat up in my bed.

YAWN

I looked to the right as a small amount of light protruded through the drapes and stopped at the body of Jack Marley in the fetal position sleeping on the floor.  I stared at my right knee, the scar from my surgery staring back at me.  I grimaced at the sight and then kicked out and landed a solid shot on Jacks prone body.  He jumped and put his hands up for a fight, which automatically made me laugh.  He doubled back down and held his ribs.

“What the hell, mon!”

I shrugged and slowly stood up and stretched both my arms to the sky, several visible elbow pops followed.

“Man, what a night…right?”

“Uh…”

I nodded back at Jack, “That refueled was off the chain.  Kostoff and I came to an understanding, and he even liked the name The Miracles on 187 Street.”

Jack still holding his ribs looked back at me with a confused look.  “Ok that is kind of clever, but The Miracle Monsters would make more sense but uh…When did this happen?”

NO FUCKING KIDDING, I THOUGHT ANGRY THAT SOME MORON QUESTIONED MY IDEA.

“Obviously before Scott Stevens became the new HOW World Champion, I mean that is crazy, but I pinched myself and wasn’t asleep.”

“For real, mon?”

I paused and scratched my left temple with my left index finger, “I mean…what happened, Jack?”

He stood up and chuckled, which made my skin crawl, “dude…Conor is still champion, and I can honestly say I have still never been inside the Wells Fargo Center.  Does that give you any hint of what may have happened?”

I rubbed my face with both my hands now trying to rub the cobwebs out of my mind.  “I would remember Sunday Night it was just yesterday.”

“It is February 1st.”

I grabbed my phone and saw it barely had any battery life, but it most definitely read February 1st.  I groaned and stared back towards that idiot lackey of mine, “what the hell happened?”

Jack took a deep breath as he watched me plug my cell phone in, “do you want the version that doesn’t include nudity or…”

I interrupted him so quickly it was like a huge gust of wind had shut his mouth, “who is nude?”

He shrugged, “I mean the real question is who wasn’t, you know what I mean, mon?”

I grit my teeth angrily, “NO I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!”

Jack puts his hands up trying to calm me down, “ok, mon, ok.  So, we get to the Red Roof Inn early Sunday and when we were getting the luggage into the room you started complaining about your knee hurting and long story short you took enough LSD to trip for several days.”

WHAT!?!?

I shook my head and realized that colors did look a tad brighter and my head did feel like a balloon but what the hell.  “And where the hell did, I get Acid from?”

“You told me to help you with dealing with any reoccurring pain so after we got to the room from taking the stairs because as you put it ‘I am surprised this shithole has a functioning front door.’  Thus, when we settled you were flexing the knee.  So, I got some water and tossed the good stuff into it and told you to just take a sip, but you ended up downing the whole bottle before I could do anything.”

I nodded in agreement about Red Roof Inn being a shithole but these days I cannot complain about it.  But my mouth dropped in surprise about acid being HELPFUL, “and you thought…hey…lucy in the sky with diamonds would really help that pain and of course I would drink the whole bottle of water you moron.  Why do I even still put up with you?” Everything just came rolling out without me even attempting a breath.

“I mean without me you would just be yelling at walls, and I don’t mean our old buddy 4th Wahl.”

Ugh, he was right.

I was at an all-time low.

“I don’t know what that says about me,” I said quietly to myself and leaned against the wall as I stared at my charging phone.  Nope, nobody contacting me…like usual.

Jack shrugged, “nothing, mon, we are bros, that’s all that matters.”

I put my hands up and then fell back on the bed, “great, I am certain I will be winning all the titles because of that.”

He nodded, “look, I have been around a long time in this business, Steve.  I understand the ups and downs and the knives that are constantly being taken out of peoples backs.  You haven’t had it easy the past year and trust me nobody is going to feel bad for you.  You need to pick yourself back up and finish what you started.”

I paused.

He was right but at the same time I did not expect that to come from his mouth.  I then realized and looked back at him, “wait…with doing drugs?”

He smiled, “hey mon, teach what you know, right?”

“There is absolutely nothing being taught right now.  You are right that I am by myself though.  I have no fantasies about me walking into the locker room and it being celebrated.  But it does not matter because I am back to prove that I don’t need fake alliances to know who I am.”

“Or clothes!”

I nodded not paying attention enough at first, but I caught on quick, “yea…wait, what!?!”

Jack looked down at his phone completely ignoring my question which irritated me, but it seemed at that time that when my blood started to boil, I would get a tad dizzy.  He looked back up at me with a serious look on his face.  “They released the next card.”

I sighed, “and?”

“Uh,” he paused his sentence and then shook is head, “you have to face the team for Jeffrey James Roberts and Arthur Pleasant.”

I rolled my eyes at the mention of Arthur Pleasant.  I am certain that is common occurrence among everyone.  “I guess just anyone can quit like a bitch and come back like its noting, huh?”

“Sure?”

“It was rhetorical…oh who am I kidding you don’t have any idea what that means just like Bobby Dean doesn’t understand the word moderation.”

Jack laughed, “hey, you should talk, you drank a whole glass of water with Acid in it!” Before I could retort such disrespect, he continued, “but I mean…this isn’t an easy match.”

“Better call the doctor and make sure he meets us next Sunday.”

“Um…about that…”

“What are you questioning me?”

Jack gulped, “I mean…can you really trust this guy?”

I chuckled, “of course not.”

Jack continued with his thought disregarding my comment “And, I mean the guy worked for your dad and this isn’t safe.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jack.  There are safeguards in place and they make it, so our friendly doctor does not mess up.  I need his brain so when it comes time to fight, I can fight at my fullest potential and have the energy required to battle through anything thrown my way,” I replied calmly but with a tad of doubt since I can’t trust the doctor, but I needed to believe in my plan for me to survive what I have gone through the past year.

“Ok, it is not like I can talk you out of anything anyway.”

“Exactly.  Now can you explain this nudity?”

Jack laughed and nodded enthusiastically, “just imagine an ice machine and a dick.”

OH GOD.

“Uh…no?”

“Well…too bad, because you did it!”

I shook my head, “well fuck…cannot be any colder then being with Lindsay Troy.”

Jack bowled over and I put my head in my hands and tried to collect any memories and really hope it was a mop and not another person that I thought was Kostoff.

It was an all time low alright.

 

Fade

 

 

 

Arthur Pleasant…

I will forgive your horrible assumptions on my knee injury since well you know…you were gone because…

You lost that jizz covered smile.  (See I can make stupid cum jokes too).

You took your deflated ball (ego) and went home.

You quit is the easy way of putting it.

You are a fucking quitter and to me it is immensely disrespectful that you ran away after losing to ME in War Games.  If anyone had an argument on having a hissy fit and disappearing after a loss it was when I lost to you.  You were the flavor of the month and then you let that flavor expire by acting like a spoiled child.

I don’t see any reason to rehash stuff that happened after War Games because if you truly wanted to scout me you would have done more then watching me wrestle Jace after I tore my meniscus.

I am happy to see you like Cancer Jiles is happy when a cold sore shows up on that annoying mouth of his.  I don’t see any reason to come back to see you.  You don’t do anything for me but make me cringe so hard that I would rather talk string theory with Jack.  I only feel annoyance towards you.  You are a good fighter, and I can accept that, but you make me glad I don’t have hair because I would have pulled it all out having to listen to you go on and on about the same nonsense.

Look man, if using the same insults, you have used on me already is all you got then I see no reason to defend myself against uncreative half-truths.  You haven’t changed, you haven’t evolved, you just latched on to the new flavor of the month.  I am not back to explain how obnoxious you are.  I am back because I am the Greatest Tag Team Wrestler in HOW.

I am back because the knee is feeling good regardless of me…self-medicating.

I am back because I miss the sound a neck makes when I repeatedly knee it.

I am back because…well, the truth is—I am broke.

Heh.

Yup.

My money is gone, sunk into a venture that will lift me up from my lows and make me an unstoppable machine inside the ring.

So, I sleep at Red Roof Inns when that is cheaper then sleeping in a rental car.  When my first check from HOW comes to me I will feel like a prince.  I can eat NOT Arby’s and sleep in a bed that you are not scared to flash a black light to.  It will be great, and if I can weasel out a bonus by forcibly tearing that ugly tattoo off your chest then I will, Arthur.

It isn’t personal, the truth is YOU seem to have more friends than me in this ridiculous wrestling promotion.  Sure, yours is built around pain and blood but hey you do you.  I am back and see The Best Alliance all scattered around and trust me not even one of them said welcome back to me and even if they did, I wouldn’t accept it.

Chris Kostoff and I are a team in name alone but that doesn’t mean I don’t hold him in high esteem.  This man is a Hall of Famer and has more lives than a Cat.  I don’t see anyone else being as resilient as him and it is true, he doesn’t really care about winning as much as he does hurting people but that just means I have to make sure he doesn’t go overboard.  Hah, truth is I have no issue with him going overboard on you two because if I must touch either of you too much, I am certain to get some disease.

This is going to be a bloodbath, but I plan on slithering my way into a pin, Arthur.  I suppose I will be the snake this time because I will do whatever it takes to win this match.

Your partner is more of a mystery to me.  He entered the fray when I was out injured and by the looks of it, he is a very accomplished wrestler already.  I suppose wrestling and planning out murders go hand to hand, who would have guessed it?

JJR was the wrestler of the year, has lost one match in HOW, and is the current HOTV Champion.  That is a lot of success for someone whose greatest accomplishments in life was cutting the eyes out of pictures and then skullfucking them.  Only in ‘Murica!

He has had five defenses and is still going strong…you know—if you consider using a chair and getting disqualified when facing Darin Zion strong.  There will always come a time when success slows down, and you get surprised, and lord knows that if things went a tad differently, we would all be groaning at a Darin Zion championship celebration.

Maybe I have gotten you at the right time.

Maybe you need Arthur more then I realized.

Maybe you need this because you see the writing on the wall, and it spells out doom for your reign.

Maybe none of this matters.  I don’t care what you are thinking, and I damn sure know you don’t feel anything being a sociopath and all that.  I don’t believe for one second you are taking this match lightly or that you might be a tad angrier then usual that things didn’t go your way last weekend.  You don’t get to where you are by holding onto things and as a literal killer, I am certain you always think about the next kill.

I am not going to be killed.  I am not going to hide because you have succeeded where I have not in the past when it comes to single title matches.  This is s tag match, Jeff.  This is my wheelhouse where I have gone undefeated for a year.  I am happy to show you why they call me the Suplex Saint and if you bring a chair into this, I will drop you headfirst on that.

I am going to prove that I might be rusty, but I am still a brutal competitor inside that damn ring and when this is over you will know that as gospel.

Miracles are there to be taken and no Monsters are going to scare me away from my glory.