Did you know that August is National Wellness Month?
Time for a check-up.
Let me tell you, I for one am not feeling well coming out of Dead or Alive. My head hurts like hell after that DDT from JPD, and that headache was made even worse by realizing Hollywood and I were nowhere near that sweet, sweet prize of winning the tag titles.
But, I don’t have time to dwell on the past, to whine and bitch about losing, or how much my body aches right now.
No, I have to regroup and refocus.
I went after something, and I…stumbled. I fell, even. I’ll cop to that, I’ll own up to it…and I’ll move on. Now that I got that out of my system, I can go back to work on the things I really want to do around here.
Chief among them is to make a statement, loud and clear for everyone in High Octane Wrestling to understand…that I’m not going anywhere.
A lot of folks have been really cute and clever suggesting that I go find some other sandbox to play in, and you know what? I’m sick of it. Sick of the whole damn kit and kaboodle.
Seriously, get over it. I’m here to stay, and no amount of “hurr hurr, go play in some Fisher-Price promotion” is gonna change that.
Nope, sorry, y’all get to put up with me a bit longer.
Especially you, Bobbinette Carey.
I have to admit, I was surprised to see your name across from mine on the proverbial dance card. I wasn’t expecting this one bit.
I thought I’d say all I needed to going into Dead or Alive, and be done with it…and believe me, I had a lot on my mind going into that mess.
After all, to the best of my recollection this is our first time crossing paths in HOW aside from the tag title match in Tombstone…so I figured, you’d go your way, I’d go mine, and that’d be that. You’d go focus on…whatever the hell you were up to, and I’d start back on my unsanctioned path of violence.
But nope, we’re facing off at Chaos 6 instead…and all the feelings I had about you going into our little scuffle at the saloon still ring true.
So, in front of thousands upon thousands inside the Yeungling Center and millions watching at home, I am going to show you exactly what I think about you riding that big ol’ wave of nostalgia stemming from all your past success.
I won’t knock you for the things you’ve earned over the years…I just find it remarkable that you act like you’re just one step away from the World Title, when in reality you haven’t been able to make good on any title shots you’ve had the past year or so.
Couldn’t win the LSD Championship. Couldn’t win a tag team tournament. Sure as hell couldn’t win the Tag Team Championship, not the actual titles anyway.
You teamed up with all the people you call friends, and every damn time your so-called friends have let you down, and in some cases even turned their back on you entirely.
So, the way I see it, you have about as much right to challenge for anything around here as I do…and that’s a strong enough motivation to knock some sense back into you in Tampa.
Because one thing I can’t stand is people flapping their gums without knowing all the facts. Case in point, a lot of folks–yourself included–letting me know the only win I’ve had around was a fluke over your boytoy STRONK and the World Champion, Christopher America.
I ran Josh Conway the hell out of HOW, and by the looks of it wrestling as a whole, because the man realized he couldn’t hack it against a fighter.
Because that’s what I am now, Carey. I’m not a bargain-bin copy of Max Kael…I’m a fighter, a beast with a taste for violence especially inside that cage.
Scott Stevens tried to make a mockery out of me too, Bobbinette, and look at him now. Dribbling at the feet of his GOD, begging for the occasional scrap of acknowledgement as he fights some holy war for the sake of the #97Red.
So hell, if nothing else that shows I’ve had a better string of luck the past month or so than you, little miss “I don’t need to win matches.”
From the bottom of my heart, get the fuck outta here with that noise.
Seriously, do you actually think about what you say, or have the years of putting up with the grind of this business worn down that filter in your head that says “ayo, maybe don’t say that”?
You’ve said some really weird shit the past few months, but I think that takes the cake. I get it, Bobbinette. Your status as a Hall of Famer means you’ve earned the right to be a little cocky about your talent and abilities, and a few perks every once in a while as a gesture of gratitude…but if you don’t need to win matches, what the hell are you actually here for?
Or is that what all that trying to meet up with people is about? Between your failed attempts to find a tag partner and your hanging around with Lexi Gold, I’m starting to think maybe you’re just trying to start a tea party or some nonsense.
I’ll help you figure that out when I beat you from pillar to post, Bobbinette. I’ll help you sort out your priorities, one way or another. We’ll get you back on track in no time, and you can be on the road to recovery.
If you really think so little of me, just wait till I make an example out of you. Another veteran of the business, resting on her laurels until I knock her the hell out.
Let’s see you flap those gums about how weak I am after that, Bobbinette.
The more shit you talk about me, the more foolish you look when you end up losing. You might think your status gets you whatever the hell you want, but losing to me is not gonna earn you any favors. You sure as hell won’t be expecting any free title shots off the back of it.
Call me a clown if you must, but this clown has got one hell of a punchline coming your way.
And I will be laughing my ass off as you try and sort your life out.
Be well, Bobbinette Carey.
Or at least, enjoy what you have as long as I allow you.
Veteran’s Memorial Park
Sierra Vista, Arizona
It’s the day after Dead or Alive, and miles away from Tombstone we find Xander Azula and his crew trying their best to appreciate the beauty of nature within the spacious park, even as the Head Disciple recovers from the injuries he sustained from the bar fight he was in for the tag titles. He is lying faceup on one of the benches, staring up at the sky as he appears to be contemplating something.
Perhaps, his next big play. After all, with Dead or Alive done and dusted it was time to focus his mind on the rest of the year. Rumble at the Rock is fast approaching, and with it an opportunity to build some much-needed momentum heading toward ICONIC…and he knew in his heart of hearts that the next step on his path would be a crucial one.
Xander doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer, however, as his sizable cohort Vagn Dahl steps up to him, the big man casting a shadow on Xander with a look of concern on his face.
“What’s the plan now, brother? Are you back on the path you told us about, or are you focusing your attention elsewhere?”
Xander lets out a heavy sigh as he slowly lifts himself to a seated position, favoring his back as he adjusts himself to a more comfortable angle before finally speaking up with a stern tone.
“Well, for one thing…we get the hell out of Arizona. I’ve no business here at this point in time, and any other concerns can sort themselves out later. I can make the trip back to Vegas when the time is right, but–as you pointed out–it’s time for me to get back to what my purpose has been this year. Besides, I need to get back to training, and…”
Xander is interrupted by a sharp pain from his shoulder, and he rubs the spot over and over again, thinking about another training session with Dawn McGill who has really put him through the ringer over the past couple months. The thought of going through that torture again doesn’t seem to sit well with Xander, or his body for that matter. Suddenly, he feels his stomach growling, and Xander looks over to the Erismobile parked off in the distance.
“Man, I’m hungry. What the hell do we even have to eat, Vagn?”
“Some of those STRONKUMMS things.”
Xander starts to gag at the thought of such an atrocity to food.
“I…I thought we got rid of all that stuff. I don’t want any of that STRONK meat getting in me, no thank you sir!”
The two share a laugh at this, before Vagn helps Azula to his feet with a smirk.
“I kid of course, brother. We have some chicken breast salad ready to go, turns out that Food-O-Matic thing is pretty nifty after all.”
Xander just chuckles at the comment, as the pair make their way toward the van accompanied soon by Mysti and Thomas Crowne. Just as they arrive, Xander’s phone can be heard vibrating against the floor of the van. Crowne quickly grabs the phone, handing it over to Azula who quickly checks the screen to see who’s calling.
Xander rolls his eyes with a sigh as he answers the call, a harsh tone of voice reflecting his lack of interest even as he pushes himself to converse.
“What’d you want, Kenny?”
It’s unclear at first what Kenny is saying, but the reaction on Xander’s face reveals some very confusing, even concerning, news coming from the young man from Los Angeles.
“What do you mean, Randall’s arguing with himself?”
As we hear a vague muttering over the phone, Xander just shakes his head in disapproval.
“No, I can’t say that I care too much about this. You and your pal are doing your own thing, and it’s a pretty fine thing in all fairness…but it’s not mine, so leave me the hell out of it.”
Xander abruptly ends the call, handing the phone back to Crowne before stepping inside the van. Dahl sits next to him, curious as to the content of the conversation…but Xander just shrugs it off with another sigh.
“Nothing important, Vagn. Let’s focus on what we need to do, it’s a long ride back to Missouri.”
With that, Mysti hops into the van as Crowne starts the engine up, the van sputtering into motion as they start the arduous journey back to the Barn for their next session. Xander repositions himself, resting his head on the interior of the van as he closes his eyes, trying to keep a steady focus on what’s to come…even with every bump in the road rattling him awake.
The whole time, all that’s on his mind is what’s next.
Taking on Bobbinette Carey on the first Chaos after Dead or Alive, and gearing up to make his next HOFC challenge…but against whom? He’d already beaten Brian Hollywood and Scott Stevens as stepping stones on his path…and there is only one fight left on his contract, with a few months left in the year.
One last chance to make his statement against those who slighted him.
One final move toward his endgame.
And that seems to set off a lightbulb in Xander’s mind, drawing a wicked grin from the Head Disciple as we fade to black.