Hope

 

American Airlines Center

Dallas, TX

 

It’s late afternoon in Dallas, as the Gold Standard John Sektor and his co-tag team champion Jatt Starr sit up in the nose bleeds of the bleachers inside the main arena. The two seats they sit in are the only ones occupied as the huge open space around them is completely dead. Below them the ring crew are busy piecing together the HOW squared circle, constructing the main stage where their Tag Team titles are soon to be defended. 

 

Sektor, dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants, sips his coffee from a cup made to go with the arena logo on it. To his right, Jatt twiddles on his phone as the Gold Standard stares blankly as the ring slowly but surely begins to take shape. 

 

“Pshhh, Heheheh,” giggles Jatt, amused by something on his phone. 

 

Sektor’s eyebrow twitches with curiosity as he notices this. “What’s so funny? Share the joke, man,” he halfheartedly instructs, as though anticipating something goofy that only Jatt would find funny. 

 

“Solex just got a flat after hitting a pothole. What an IDIOT!” laughs Jatt, taking too much enjoyment from Solex’s apparent misfortune. 

 

“Urgh,” Sektor grunts. “Too many fucking potholes in this shithole. No wonder every redneck in this town drives a truck.” 

 

He takes another sip from his coffee, wiping some of the excess off the bristles of his moustache. 

 

“You gassed for this title defence?” he asks of Jatt, with a sense of doubt in his own tone. 

 

“You bet your moustache I am, hermano. Gilda coming back was a sure sign that I have pleased the HOW God’s. We don’t need to worry, my man. They’ll be in our corner tonight,” he says, with earnest conviction. 

 

“Oh, fuck man,” Sektor gasps, his face ridden with guilt. “I didn’t even ask how that went. My heads been up my own ass,” he explains, almost apologetically. 

 

“It’s cool, I know you’ve had a lot on your mind. But things are looking good for Gilda and I.” Jatt has a proud and wholesome smile as he says this. 

 

Sektor’s mouth twitches as he almost smiles, but the grumpy fucker in him prevents it from properly materialising. 

 

“That’s good. But, what made her just turn up like that out of the blue? Seems a little odd to me,” he asks, skeptical and unapologetic about it. 

 

“Oh, her mothers deadbeat boyfriend tried to suggest that she should see a therapist. So of course, she did the only natural thing a person could do in that situation..” he explains, leaving it open for Sektor to fill in the blanks?

 

“She, knocked him the fuck out?”

 

“BINGO! So proud of her. One punch, man, and he was spark-out on his back.”

 

“Go Gilda!” 

 

“Yeah. And, you know, things are still a little weird between her and I, but for the most part she seems to be coming around and I think we’re making great progress.”

 

Sektor doesn’t smile, but he does give Jatt a genuine look and nod of support. “That’s great man,” he eventually says, a hint of sadness washing over his eyes. 

 

“Ahh shoot, listen to me bragging about my amazing rekindling relationship with my daughter whilst you…”

 

Sektor cuts him off in his tracks with a sharp signal from his index finger. Jatt knows all too well by now not that to pull at that thread. A moment of silence is shared by the duo as Sektor continues to gaze down at the ring below them. The ring crew have finished laying the final piece of the canvas and the foundations have been set for what Sektor feels is their biggest title defence to date. 

 

“That’s where it’s all gonna go down, Jatt,” Sektor says, somewhat deeply as he nods down at the, under construction, ring. 

 

“You’re not nervous, are ya?” Jatt gasps, sensing something in his tone. “Surely not. The ice cold killer I know would never be nervous.”

 

“Nervous?” Sektor echoes. “Nah, I’m not nervous. I’m just soaking it in is all. This is a huge moment for us, amigo. Lee is counting on his oldest and most faithful allies to retain the tag titles against a union of fucking missfits.”

 

He let’s out a deep sigh as he watches the ring posts beginning to erect around each corner. 

 

“I just don’t want this to be another banana skin for us, hermano. Teddy is on a heater and Linds is always dangerous.”

 

“I just hope Linds..”

 

“Yeah, I get it Jatt you think she want’s to fuck you,” he groans, again sighing. “The horny bitch will fuck anything with a pulse so dont think you’re special. No, I’m serious man. We thought the Bruv’s was going to be our greatest test. But in truth? I think the two of these could be the most dangerous. They’re all in love and shit. They’re both on a high on cloud fucking nine.”

 

Sektor has that curl in his lip as though he has a bad taste in his mouth. 

 

“Well maybe we need to make that cloud rain.” he says, a menacing smile creeping over her face.

 

“What you got cooking up in that clever nogging of yours?” Jatt asks, smiling with intrigue. 

 

“The oldest trick in the book, hermano,” he says, turning to smile at his partner.

 

“Divide and conquer!” 

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

It sucks! 

 

You all know what I’m talking about. Losing. It SUCKS! I have never in my entire career gone three straight, singles, matches without a win. I’m only one more loss away from equalling Jatt’s piss-poor start to his HOW career. It’s hard, man. Really hard. It’s all very good saying:

 

“Get back on your horse, Johnny! There’s always the next match.”

 

Because that’s fucking bullshit. Every time you lose? It gets harder. Motivation starts to slip away and when you’re at the stage I am in my career? You begin to ask yourself questions like:

 

“Am I past it?”

 

“Am I too old for this?”

 

“Am I not good enough any more?”

 

I honestly don’t have the answers to those questions, I literally cling to hope. Hope, that I can eventually find some form and get back to winning ways. Hope, that I can still climb to the top of the ladder and become World champion again. Hope, that Jatt and I don’t lose the one thing I have left in this world in the fucking Tag titles to Teddy, flavour of the month, Palmer and his slutty, but kinda hot, slice of pussy. 

 

Hope..that I don’t embarrass myself and piss all over the great legacy and name that I have spent my whole career building. 

 

Don’t get me wrong, losing to you Teddy? There’s no shame. You’re good. You’re better than good. A future World champion for sure and who knows? Maybe you’re THE future of this company. You matched me in every single way when we locked horns a few weeks back. You were one step ahead and the whole match felt like a very tight game of chess. When you locked me in that Triangle choke? I knew it was over. I know when I’m beat. I was a million miles away from the ropes with no way of escape. In that moment, I felt like every single victim who I have ever made tap to the Sektor Stretch. My pride, man. 

 

What else does a guy have left when his pride is gone? 

 

I preach to people all of the time that there is no shame tapping out when you know you’re beat. Either tap or have a limb broken or in my case? Get the blood cut off to your brain until you pass out. Believe me, I thought about that option long and hard before I pounded my hand on the canvas. But with my history of brain injuries? I couldn’t risk it. I was still clinging on to the hope that I can still have a future in wrestling. It’s like Big Buff said..

 

..I made a business decision!

 

Doesn’t make it any easier though. Now you’ve gone through Jatt and taken the LSD title away from the Alliance. You’re the hero of your little Union and now every single wrestler who stands against the Best Alliance has HOPE! 

 

It gets worse. Off the back of two bitter defeats Jatt and I have to defend the tag titles against arguably the most in form wrestler in the company and Mike’s sloppy seconds. We can’t lose this match. Could you imagine how that would look? Forget my personal affection for leading the Tag Division. Could you imagine how it would look if the Best Alliance lost another championship to the fucking Union? 

 

The pressure is yet again mounting on my shoulders. I keep a brave face for Jatt because truth be told he’s no more mentally stable than I am. I ever humoured his fucking ritual to sacrfice his little beating stick so that the “HOW GODS” will be pleased and grace us with some divine intervention to get us through the match. Still, it’s nice that Gilda has gotten in touch with him again. A happy Jatt is a winning Jatt. Must be nice, having a daughter who knows you exist. 

 

Of course it’s all the stuff of a lunatic’s dreams but it gives the man HOPE! 

 

This industry has taken more away from me than it has ever given me. I cling to my history because without acknowledging it I am nothing. I will be damned if I allow the Tag titles to be taken away from me. I would sooner die than have my hope taken too. 

 

It’s important that I can keep a lid on things. I’m my own worst enemy in situations like this. Gotta hold it together, Sek. Believe in StarrSek..

 

…Believe in the Best Alliance!

 

The question is, do the two of you believe? Do you honestly believe you can topple an amalgamation of two of the greatest success stories in HOW history? Well let’s look at the tale of the tape here shall we?

 

Jatt and I, we’ve known each other for nearly twenty years.

 

The two of you?

 

You’ve been fucking for twenty minutes. 

 

Jatt and I? We have won every single Tag Team match we’ve had. 

 

The two of you? 

 

Well, the only tagging the two of you have done is when you tagged yourself in on Lindz after Mike rolled off of her. 

 

Now don’t get me wrong, I know you got a reputation as somewhat of a Tag Team specialist Ted. And I’ve already sung your praises loud enough for you to know that I consider you a real threat. 

 

And Lindz? Shit, the bitch is without a doubt the greatest female wrestler of all time. No doubt about it. She’s better than Carey. She’s better than Tara Michaels Davidson. And she’s sure as hell better than that teen fan fiction cunt M.J Flair. Her record speaks for itself and honestly the two of you together have Jatt and I worried. But Jatt has his blind faith and Lee, who isn’t quite so blind any more, seems to have faith that his boys can swat you two love birds aside and send out a statement as this war between the Alliance and the Union reaches boiling point. 

 

Behind every great man is a great woman. Right Ted? 

 

Except, technically you’re the one behind her because as long as you affiliate yourself with a bonafide legend like Lindsee Troi? You’ll always be in her shadow, dude. That’s just facts. That’s gotta pinch a little, don’t it? I know we live in a world now that seems to celebrate women as being equal to men. But we’re old school red blooded males right? We know that the man should be the spearhead of any relationship. So the fact that you’re playing second fiddle to Linds must be a little hard for you. But hey? Riding her coattails might lead you to great things so I don’t blame you. Fuck, I’ve considered marrying a rich old wasp several times and just living my best life. But again, my pride stops me. 

 

I guess what I’d really like to know, Ted, is how you can roll with Linds when you compete in the same company as her old squeeze? Is it not hard for you knowing that Mike Best has been guts deep inside your woman repeatedly? That he wore her like a luchador mask? 

 

I mean I know Mike. I know just how fucking weird his fetish’s are. I wouldn’t mind betting that he took a steamer on her chest and squashed it yelling;

 

ALABAMA PANCAKE!

 

He’s the type of guy who likes to stick his finger in her ass whilst he’s fucking her, feeling the sphincter clench as she’s about to climax and call him Daddy. I bet she’s fucking filthy too isn’t she? I bet you she licked his asshole clean right before he nutted on her face and then made her lick her lips clean. 

 

Dudes packing too! I rolled with him over in UTAH and we shared a shower. I know you aint touching the sides my man. I bet it’s like throwing a hot dog down a hallway. A proverbial wizard’s sleeve and you probably resort to accidentally slipping it up her shitter, which she of course doesn’t mind because she’s dirtiest of sluts. 

 

You’re a stronger man than I am Ted.

 

No way could I be in a relationship with a woman, knowing full well that she’s had BEST DNA in every orifice. Yep, she would have been filled to the brim and queefing and farting the Best spunk bubbles on many a night. 

 

Mike really is a sick little bastard dude. Does she let you do the things to her that he wouldn’t have even given her a choice with? Because Mike’s not the kind of guy you say no to, you know? 

 

Has she ever asked you to feed her a dirty dog?

 

It’s this sick shit Mike told me he made this chick do once. He slipped a frankenfurter up his ass and pushed it out into her mouth, making her chew it. 

 

Am I getting to you yet? Don’t fucking lie to yourself you’re a man. No in fucking hell are you cool with all this. You’re picturing her doing all the nasty things in all the weirdest fucking positions with Mike Best right now. You could hear her moaning, gripping the sheets and biting her pillow as he squeezes her neck and poles it into her all the way down to the hinge. You picture her eyes rolling to the back of her head as he pounds away at her favourite spot until she gushes all over his cock and makes his pubic area all sticky with her juices.

 

I hope you can’t shake those images. 

 

I hope when she extends her hand to you in your corner tonight that you can’t help but think about how THAT hand once gripped the throbbing cock of the son of God. How she probably licked Mike clean off her fingers and probably did a little stink finger too.  

 

Every time you fuck her now you’re gonna see Mike’s face staring back at you. 

 

I get it though, I mean she is hot. I’m looking forward to burying my face in her cunt tonight. Any opportunity I get to squeeze her little snatch I will take. Fuck, I might just slip my hands down her pants when the refs not looking and give her the old dip test, see if the two of you kept to the no fucky-fucky before big match, rule. Cause I’m a sick mother fucker too, man. Ask any woman who has ever stepped foot in the ring with me and they will tell you what a borderline rapist I am when I get my hands on them. I don’t give a fuck. You put a snatch in front of me half dressed? I’m gonna party. 

 

HahahahahahahahAAAAHH!

 

You wanna know why I know the two of you will fail tonight?

 

Because there’s a reason why men and women don’t compete with or against each other in any sport. It just doesn’t work, hermano. As amazing as the two of you are as individuals? You will never be on the same level as Jatt and I. 

 

Anyway, listen, I think I’ve given you enough food for thought. Tell Lindz from me, if you can’t stomach playing hide the salami with her after tonight’s match? Then I have no problem putting my big fat Cuban cock up her ass and spray painting that muhfucker!

 

See you two TWATS in the ring!