Well, there it is.
You’ve thrown your hat in for War Games. You’re all in on this wrestling deal.
One step in front of the other. You’ve taken the hits, you’ve taken the lumps, but you’re still on your feet. No turning back now.
Not like you’ve got a choice. I mean, what’s the alternative? Back on the run? Rippin’ off small timers for a pissant pay day?
This loser with the porn stache and the track marks is just the next in line…
Lester Moregrimes, sitting on the floor of what looks like a crappy hotel room, back against the bed. Terrible lighting.
“And here we go.”
“You did it two years ago, John. Good on you.”
“What’s been done since?”
“You’re part of the Best Alliance. You’re truly going to be one of the picks for War Games.”
“Until I beat you.”
“Then I become the top pick.”
He smiles. It looks more like a leer.
“But you the man, right? You’ve got the tenure, you’ve got the history, you’ve got the legacy here in HOW. You’ve got everyone saying you’ve got this one in the bag just because I’ve had a string of bad luck mixed with shady referees.”
He points at the side of his head.
“I’ve got you, though. I know how to think like you now. I can get in your head. And once I’m in your head?”
“You’ve got nowhere else to run. But how do you think like a John Sektor?”
At this point, Lester raises his arm, where you can see he’s tied a rubber rope around his bicep. He grabs one end in his teeth and pulls tightly, and puts a needle to his vein.
Almost immediately, he nods out.
Flying, through the air and in and out of clouds passing a rainbow and a waterfall and feeling the spray on my face and the sun dries me out right quick all the while there is a chorus of birds chanting my name all the while John Sektor and Clay Byrd and Sulter Kael drop from the sky and land thousands of feet below because they try to fly with Lester Moregrimes and they don’t have what it takes because they stay on the ground and look at me as their opponent when in fact I am far above them with no end in sight especially when I end up at War Games in Japan and descend from Mount Fuji because the top of the mountain is where the gods and immortals live and the gods tend the Japanese gardens against the zombies the way I tend the ring against my opponents who are also like zombies because all they have is the numbers and the wrestling ability and that won’t be enough to win them the War Games and the World Title belt strapped around my waist but it doesn’t weigh me down and cause me to crash because I know how to carry such a thing since it’s what I was built for even harder than Japan was built back after World War II and it’s ironic that another war will be fought there for an even bigger prize since world peace is all fine and whatever but becoming World Champion is the most important thing that can ever happen to me since the belt will show the people watching me up in the clouds that I am the World Champion because you can’t beat me if you can’t knock me down and I clearly don’t feel any pain the way I dished it out to my opponents so far with John Sektor included in that list of challengers that will fall before me after I land in the ring and make it my own the Best Alliance and The Local Union look so small from up here and it’s insane to see them try to reach me but they just can’t I’m cruising along on my clouds and rainbows and waterfalls around Mount Fuji since that’s my goal and I smell bread I’m baking I’m baked I’m hungry for a victory after which I’ll have a sandwich and Sektor can make it for me since that’s all he’ll be good for once I show him that his career can never recover from what I’m about to do to him and I need to dip below the clouds since the sun will burn me and that could be a weakness that my enemies could exploit since all they do is exploit things that aren’t fair like a referee making a fast count or hitting me too hard I need to win this match and of course I will because without this win there’s no Mount Fuji or first round pick for War Games or HOW World Title but that’s ridiculous because I’ll be picked first and entered last and clearly will have the title strapped around my waist my waist is gone my hands are gone my body is gone I’m nothing but pure consciousness now I’m as powerful as a thought and nothing and nobody can defeat a thought I’m unbeatable with no shoulders I can’t be pinned and with no hands I can’t tap out and as a thought I have no form and no limits so I can be as big as I need to be and I can cover everyone all at once and I can win every match every night against every opponent oh there’s my hands and my shoulders and my waist and my rest of me it’s probably better to have a body so I can wear a title belt around my waist after I cover everyone all at once and win every match when I get to war games and eliminate everyone else and jump into the sea of japan like I’m doing right now lower lower lower lower plunging into the water, it’s just like flying only colder and wetter and there are fish here along with everyone else from High Octane Wrestling that I’ve buried deep in the ocean or will bury like John Sektor this fool doesn’t know the best way to make himself famous and that’s to do what I do and just be famous when I’m the World Champion I’ll be famous and make them all pay for their jabs and insults but first I need to get out of this water there we go we’re flying again and there’s some smooth jazz playing somewhere which makes sense since jazz is the soundtrack of music especially when you’re flying just trust me on this it’s coming from that jet airplane that’s following me it’s purple and paisley and won’t let me stop flying I bet I can buzz the building and make it crash wait that’s no good the people on it might die except that none of this is real it’s as real as I make it so I can make the plane crash and make everyone on it be okay since that’s probably the right thing to do because I can’t beat John Sektor and win War Games if everyone thinks I’m a monster. But what if
Lester’s eyes flutter open, and he looks around for a moment, very confused.
“See, John? Simple.”