Posted on December 14, 2021 at 8:32 pm by David Noble

Before Refueled 83

David settled into a chair in the corner of his hotel room, his anxiety threatening to overtake him, as he took in a deep breath. Across from him sat Lorelai, who looked inquisitive and pissed off all at the same time. It was a look he remembered quite well, a look that haunted him in his nightmares when he managed to fall asleep without alcohol.

It was her face.

As he sat there, he braced himself.

Lorelai continued to look at him, defiant as ever, before she decided to get started with another round of questions.

‘How did you two meet?’

David closed his eyes as he remembered the day, nearly two years before she was born.

‘I had just wrapped up a tour in Japan and was getting on a plane back to the States. I sat next to her on the said plane and when you’re on a plane from Japan to the United States, you’re stuck in thirteen hours of hell. You take all of the free alcohol you can and if a pretty girl sits down next to them, you talk to them to help ease the pain of sitting in a cramped tube of tin for thirteen hours,’ he responded. He then opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘It was the best conversation of my life.’

Lorelai pondered this for a moment before checking it off on her mental checklist and proceeded to her next question.

‘What broke you two up?’

David shook his head.

‘You don’t want to know the answer to that question.’

‘Why is that?’ she shot back.

‘Because your mom has been in the ground for what… a month now? I’m not putting negative things in your head about her. I’m not going to become your punching bag to deal with your feelings in regards to her,’ he responded, a matter of factly.

‘The way I see it,’ she began. ‘I thought I had a dad. A dad that walked out on me when I was a little girl. Then one day I find a birth certificate for someone named David Noble, and my mother tells me that he is my dad. Which is confusing as fuck as you can imagine. In her will, I’m supposed to go to him, but they can’t find him. So now I’m here with you, trying to figure out what the truth is.’

David sighed. She was right to ask the question.

‘Fine. I woke up one day and found you gone. You were a year old. Your mother proceeded to tell me she had been with another guy, the guy I assume she said is your dad, and proceeded to tell me that you weren’t mine, that the other guy was your actual dad.’

David closed his eyes and dropped his head.

‘It was the worst day of my life. I never wanted to be a father, but the day I heard about you, the day I held you, the day I put you against my chest, those are all days that are ingrained into my memory and will forever be. You gave me purpose and meaning in my life. I was adopted as a child. I was the runt of the litter so to say, with a ‘father’ that would’ve drowned me if the opportunity presented itself. The day she took you away from me, the day she told me I wasn’t your father, it destroyed me.’

David sat there for a moment before he rose out of his chair, walked to a sliding-glass door that led to the balcony, and stepped outside, needing a breath of fresh air as the memories and emotions began rushing to the surface faster than he could process it.

Present Day


There is nothing ICONIC about a match that includes Darin Zion, Xander Azula, and Brian Hollywood. Absolutely nothing.

This match reeks of desperation from HOW management. Like they spent their days jerking off while watching midget gloryhole porn, and then realized they need to book a card.

Oh shit! Um, let’s see. Okay, we’ll throw just about everyone into a main event match for the World Championship!

Really? Is this what we just do now? Have massive clusterfucks every five seconds? Didn’t we just do something similar like two weeks ago? How fucking lazy do you have to be to just throw everyone into a ring and let them figure it out?

And then they realized they were going to end up not having me on the card. They realized that with Jack Harmen pulling out (weak as fuck) that it would mean I’d be getting back on the plane and heading home. They couldn’t have that. Absolutely shat themselves while having a cider.

So they throw me into a match with Darin Zion, Xander Azula, and Brian Hollywood.

I want you to read that again.

Darin Zion.
Xander Azula.
Brian Hollywood.

Are you fucking serious?

None of these three fuckheads have even anything close to a winning record. Between the three of them, they’ve got thirteen wins collectively. Jace Parker Davidson has as many wins as the three of them have combined.

Between the three of these individuals, that would’ve been better dried up on the inside of their mother’s thighs than to actually be born, they’ve lost twenty-seven times.

Seriously. At this point, it should basically be whichever of those three wins gets to stay in HOW and the other two can fuck off into the ocean and never grace us (or anyone for that matter) ever again.

I can’t stand mediocrity. I can’t stand people who just take up fucking space. I can’t stand when people are given opportunity after opportunity and do fuck all with it.

I don’t have the mental energy it would take to care about all three of these individuals at the same time. Because they’re not worth my time. This is a match of three equals and then me. Losses happen, I get it. The reality is though that since I’ve walked into HOW, the only person to put my shoulders on the mat and pin me was in my debut match against Jeffrey James Roberts.

That’s it.

The girls that will do anything to sleep with wrestlers have more pinfall victories than these three incels.

I mean, look at Darin Zion.

I know you don’t want to but look at Darin Zion. I mean, seriously, this is a man who has stepped in the ring with me twice now and continues to lose. Once with my assistance to throw his ass over the top rope and then once in a match that he actually put up a fight for, but still ended up not being worth anything at the end of the day.

I will give credit where credit is due. Zion fought. There was a fire in him during that match. The reality though, Zion, is that I brought it out of you. This is what I do. I want the best in the ring, I want everyone in that ring to be the best version of themselves because this is about entertainment, performance, and then at the end of the day, who can perform when the pressure is the greatest.

You don’t belong in the ring with me again Zion and I will remind everyone, especially HOW management, where you belong and that’s nowhere fucking close to me.

So please, do me a favor. Show up, give me your best again, so I can remind you once again that you are only your best when you have to step in the ring with someone like me. Otherwise, you can just fuck off.

I can’t even talk about Brian Hollywood or Xander Azula. The sheer thought of their existence is enough to make me want to question my decision to wrestle. I don’t have it in me today. Maybe next time.


Before Refueled 83

Minutes passed as David stood out there, his eyes focused intently looking out at the lights that danced around, alluring him to find a bar and drink the night away. As the thought festered in his mind though, the glass door opened and Lorelai stepped out, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders due to the nearly freezing temperatures.

‘Sorry,” she muttered. ‘I know all of this is still painful for you. I don’t think I knew how painful it was for you.’

David shook his head. ‘It’s not your fault. That’s the important thing to know here. It’s not your fault.’

A smile appeared on Lorelai’s face. ‘I never thought it was. It’s really fucking dumb when I hear parents tell them that when they get divorced. It’s like no shit it’s not my fault. You two have hated one another for years and I just sit here and eat cereal.’

David chuckled at this. Lorelai found a chair in the corner and sat down in it.

‘So you really don’t know, do you?’

David looked over at her.

‘Know what?’ he asked her.

‘If you’re my father or not.’

David looked back out at the lights and let the thought wrap him up and choke him out for a moment. It was the thought that he had every night, the thought that made him drink.

Then he shook his head.

‘Not a single clue, to be honest.’

Lorelai took a moment to think about this before she stood up and walked over to David. As she stood there, she pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to David.

‘Want to find out?’

As David looked down, she noticed it was a paternity test in her hand. He looked over at her.

‘We can get the answers we’re both looking for. You’re either my father and we figure out that relationship. Or you’re not my father and I can fuck off and figure out my own path in life.’

She paused.

‘It is your choice.’

And David just stood there, staring at the paternity test.

It was like staring down the barrel of a gun and praying it went off.