It’s a normal, boring Wednesday morning for me. Protein shakes, podcasts, and pumping iron littered throughout my schedule. With how shallow my agenda looks, you’d think I am shriveled goods like Stonk Godson. Hell, most people think I’ve got one brain cell like that dolt. Every Wednesday morning, you could find me planted in Gold’s Gym, busting my ass for next week’s match. It’s a time honored tradition to the 4Z Network I wouldn’t break.
But this week is different than most. Instead of the boring regiments of improving wrestling holds, learning new moves, or ring experience, you could find me at the punching bag. Sweat rolled down my head like the Great Falls of Niagara. Instead of the banal jovial smile you could find plastered on my face, it grimaced. With every fist I threw at the black punching bag in front of me, my intensity grew at an exponential rate. I even started grunting with every hit landed.
Everyone in the back knew my excitement when I qualified for the War Games match. Yes, I won that stupid, dumb broad who quit forfeited our match. If Joe Pecci says that fact, it’s true! The Zenith of Gen Z earned his next title opportunity. Under normal circumstances, I’d focus yammering on about opportunities like a child opening presents on Christmas Day. But my mind locks onto only one thought.
I couldn’t shake the obsessive thoughts swirling around in my head. Sektor and I’s encounter on Refueled XCIX is his final HOW television taping. Pressure began to mount at the daunting task of battling my archnemesis of this era. In my mind, the constant doubt mounted up, causing my shoulders to tense. Lee Best handed Sektor this match for some extra clout after his embarrassing performance last week. I’ve spent the better part of this era wrestling as a tag team expert. You could see the clear assignment Lee gave his War Games general; destroy the morale of the locker room with an iron fist.
I grew tired of bottling up my emotions. As my thoughts intensify, they cause me to unleash an ungodly roundhouse kick. Whipping around at full force, my leg causes the bag to quake. It flies off its holder, banging loudly against the pad-covered concrete floors. Flashbacks to every Sektor/Zion match danced in my head, unleashing my hatred. I leapt onto that bag like a ravenous, hungry wolf attacking its prey. Every trial and tribulation I’d experienced over the last 3 years fueled this moment. Every one of my embarrassing junctures came at Sektor’s hands. It made that feeling of contempt worse when it coupled with The Gold Standard’s record against me last era.
As the scene unfolds, I turn my attention to both Conor Fuse and Sir Simon Sparrow, both observing my form. I can overhear them discussing my overall improvement.
Conor Fuse: Get it, bro, get it! #Rally4Z. Let’s goooooo! You’re so focused, you’re so in the game, man. You’re built differently now, at least compared to last year. So close to titles, so often.
Sir Simon Sparrow: Ever since he’s kicked Meredith to the curb…
Interrupting Simon, Conor’s eyes bulge from his head while his jaw drops.
Conor Fuse: Damn right he did. Wait… what? His Princess is in another castle?
In a calm manner, Simon nods back at Conor. His hand extends out towards me in a proud gesture.
Sir Simon Sparrow: The Rembrandt of Wrestling isn’t a simple nickname. It’s truly a work of art what I’ve done for The 4Z network’s career. The Zenith of Generation Z has built his brand. The poor bastard had NOTHING after March 2 Glory. He grew tired of being a pushover.
Conor Fuse: Can you blame him? HOW disrespects Darin Zion all the time. I’m starting to feel it, too. Lee’s wrath, ya know? Everyone loves overlooking fucking Zion but you know what fucking Zion’s gonna do to your old buddy, Simon? Defeat him. Once and for all. Ban Hammer away!
Sir Simon Sparrow: After Azula kicked him to the curb, that poor soul finally snapped. Now, he’s more! He’s a cold, calculating bastard. If I were Sektor; I’d not show up to the arena. If he does; well, he’ll get a lethal dose of Vitamin Z injected into his frail, drug-abused veins.
Conor turns his head back towards me, watching me continue to destroy the bag with a flurry of punches and kicks. After a few moments, I grab the punching bag and suplex it with sheer force towards the ground. Once more, Conor’s astonishment fuels me. They continue to discuss in the background.
Sir Simon Sparrow: Six months ago, I would have bet a lot of money on my former tag partner. Now, he’s yesterday’s news. He’s coasting on the coattails of his retirement announcement. John’s hoping to end his career like Michael Jordan. Too bad Z Gangsta over here’s gonna rip him to shreds. He’ll send him packing back to Miami deflated. I see it in clear, crisp 1080z. Zion will defeat John Sektor and end his career after a war ensues. It’ll end for Sektor the same way it did for Eli Manning: a very sad and pathetic retirement.
Conor Fuse: So Darin Zion of all people ends John Sektor’s game, huh? I like it, I like it a lot. He’s sure to light up MSG…
Before Conor can finish hyping me up, I interject with a harsh tone.
Darin Zion: USE THE Z! M-S-ZEEEEE! It’s now MSZ! Madison Square Zion! Get it right, bro! I’ll let that slide since we’re besties. I respect you, champ. But I didn’t spend the last 4 weeks hyping myself up to have ANYONE ruin my branding initiative. Refueled XCIX is MY night to shine. I plan on taking my rightful place in the spotlight. After I defeat the most dominant LSD Champion for years; I’ll make everyone in NYZ show me the respect I deserve. NO MATTER THE COST! I’ve spent years dreaming about ending Sektor’s career. I will not have anyone sewing doubts in my mind.
For the first time, I notice Conor Fuse rolling his eyes at me. Before I can approach my broski, The True Gamechanger sticks out his hand to stop me.
Conor Fuse: Chill, guy, chill. I got your back. You’ll definitely light up MSZ and conquer the legend for sure. Your stock will rise and everyone will invest in NFZs going into War Games. Clear your mind and take that energy into your match. You’re doing GREAT!
Simon and Conor excuse themselves to discuss more War Games strategies. As they both turn their backs and walk off, I shoot a dirty look their way. That fire returns in my belly while I see Sektor’s face appear on the punching bag. I clench my fists together and continue on my warpath towards John Sektor at Refueled.
“We can’t have a YouTube Segment on the 4Z Network without a word from this week’s sponsors!”
For over 100 years; The Gold Standard defined the US Economy. If your company didn’t own gold; you didn’t mean SHIT in our economic world. While it’s true that our country killed the Gold Standard in 1971; many thought its resurgence in HOW would signal a return to the glory days. After John Sektor debuted for HOW nearly 15-20 years ago; the price of gold skyrocketed. Every embraced Sektor’s dominance within the sport while he racked up championship victories. HOW brought lots of wealth and prosperity back to our country when they invested in John Sektor’s career. Truly a remarkable HOW talent!
But you know as well as I do; times are changing. Inflation is a new threat to our nation’s wealth. Little by little, the MAN continues to chip away at Gold’s value. Hell Gold ruined its own values too. John Sektor sold himself down the water many times. Between the numerous walk outs, cocaine binges, and tales of family abandonment; Americans lost their trust in gold. Let’s face it; when The Gold Standard invested itself in UTAH over the number 1 promotion in the World; it caused the economy to crash. It’s happening right now. The Gold Standard’s now on his 500 millionth retirement tour. He’s probably walking away to go nose deep in some nose candy and diseased hookers. Maybe he’s gonna have another daughter and abandon her too.
But those actions by management and Sektor, hurt your family. It takes food off their tables and leaves your bellies hungry. It threatens to take away your house and everything you busted your ass for all these years. Of course, it’ll kill your retirement hopes and aspirations. And if you dreamed about purchasing a new car…well those fuckers took that away from you too.
You can’t keep investing in something that wrecks YOUR well-being. You need something off the system. You’ve got to have a more reliable, GUARANTEED way to protect your investments. Something that the MAN can’t track and steal.
Today, I, Darin Alexander Zion, am proud to announce to you something that’ll grow in value at an exponential rate. I am bringing the future of money to you NOW. No more risks and emotional damage from that pathetic Gold Standard moron in HOW. I’m launching the cryptocurrency to end all cryptos. My patented method will end traditional NFTs. It’s NFZ!!!! Please welcome the newest craze: ZII.
No, it’s not a blatant rip off of PII. You don’t have to log onto an app like a buffoon and mine it. I’ll do it for you. Invest in Zii to reap all its benefits. On top of single-handedly destroying the Gold Standard; Zii’s got a lot of benefits. It’s reliable, persistent, hard-working, and cutting edge like myself. It’ll never give up on you during hard times. It’ll fight hard until it achieves its goals to fund your family’s future.
Critics will tell you it’s mediocre. But those idiots couldn’t see value if they looked straight at a diamond. While this diamond right here is rough, it can shank your enemies out of spite. I promise if you invest in Zii; it’ll pay you dividends. Especially when I conquer the greatest LSD Champion of all times. You’ll not want to miss the amazing feat at MSZ in NYZ when Darin Zion invests in his future and makes a statement. A statement that will kick off this year’s War Path to World War Z Games. Download this app only on The 4Z Network on Z-Mobile today. And I promise you; instead of dreaming about Fantasy Island. You’ll fuckin’ own it!
Cutting back to today’s adventures, we cut to my extravagant study in the loft I rented in NYZ. The books breaming from the walls can almost overwhelm a person. Seated in front of a solid oak writing desk, I’ve sprawled my War Games plans all over the desk. As I closely review them, my loud voice bellows out from my lungs.
Darin Zion: Chives? Come in here, STAT!
Nothing! No footsteps startled around the loft, nor any noise echo from the vast hallways. The redness in my face continues building up. All while I stare at an item on my TO DO list still remaining open. I waste no time in picking up the small wooden desk to the side and slam it against the floor with brute force.
Darin Zion: GOD DAMNIT, CHIVES! I demand your presence, this instance!!! Get your pale white ass in here before I fire you.
The clopping sound of tux shoes fill the halls. The balding, middle aged British man that Simon hired for me on a permanent basis slides into my study. The pathetic look of utter defeat filled his aura. His shoulders slouched while he answered back with a deflated, British accent.
Chives: You summoned me, Master Zion?
I rush to pull the incomplete list and throw it in my manservant’s face. Scolding him for his apparent errors filled my soul with glee.
Darin Zion: Did you order the fruit basket for Mr. Sektor’s retirement bash I’m throwing for him at Refueled? Because that task ISN’T crossed off my list! You know how I feel about failure right now, Chives. I won’t tolerate it from either you or me on this Warpath to World War Z Games. DID…YOU…GET…THE FUCKING…BASKET?!
Glaring a hole through the poor man, Chives simply rips the list from my hands. Reaching for the pen, my personal butler crosses the task off.
Chives: Sorry, sir. It’s clear as day I made a mistake and forgot to come in here to cross it off. My utmost apologies! Mr. Sektor’s fruit basket will arrive to MSG…
Darin Zion: MSZ you nitwit!!!! We are speaking it into existence here. M-S-Z!!!! I will take NYZ by storm when I retire Sektor. Those New Yorkers WILL worship me. They will praise my benevolence for rescuing them from the Gold Standard’s reign of terror. We will enter a prosperous season when I take the helm over.
Chives: Right sir! It’ll arrive to MSZ on Sunday morning. HOW officials will hand deliver it to the Hall of Famer’s locker room.
I nod at Chives with a sadistic smile plastered on my face.
Darin Zion: EEEEXCCCEEELENT! I’m proud of you, Chives. Taking initiative. But one question, what fruits did you order for Mr. Sektor. I damn sure want my gesture to come across as benevolent.
My eyes batter while I glance at this peon in front of me. Letting out a long, drawn sigh; Chives retorts back at me while shaking his head.
Chives: Only the deadest fruits for the most worthless father in High Octane Wrestling.
Darin Zion: That fits him well! It’s not like the bastard will show up for the celebration anyways. He doesn’t subscribe to the 4Z method of reliability. Sure, you could argue he’s saying that sliver of energy for War Games. Not like it’ll propel him far in winning World War Z games. But his efforts last week showed the world how pathetic The Gold Standard has become. That fuck stick thought showing up and preparation is beneath him. Someone with his pedigree should back up Lee Best’s claims. After all, GOD claims Sektor’s his most reliable right hand. His Harbinger of DOOM and DESTRUCTION. Yet he couldn’t handle the “pitiful, lowly” Darin Zion last week. Last week I proved the 4Z network is better than any cocaine laced promo that worthless hick could cut. After spending years underneath his boots; I became better. I outclassed that hag.
Chives: Absolutely, sir! Conor Fuse and you dominated him and obliterated him to kingdom come. His embarrassment should prevent him from showing up this week. Your help caused Sektor to eat the worst 450 splash in his lifetime.
I ripped Chives by his collar and yanked him towards me. I can feel my warm breath ricocheting right back into my face while I lecture him.
Darin Zion: Do NOT put an asterisk by my performance last week. I did what I had to do to forge bonds with my War Games team. But critics could clearly see Sektor didn’t show the fuck up to that ring. That bastard was coked out of his GODDAMN BRAIN. Hell, he might’ve thrown back too many brewskis. I don’t care what Lee’s best ass kisser can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s earned the right to slowly kill himself from his life choices. This week, I got him all to myself. I don’t have to play the benevolent, lovable face of HOW.
Reaching over I pick up a copy of “The Art of War” by Sun Tzu that Sir Simon Sparrow gifted me. I turn to the most crucial page of the book that influenced my strategy for this week.
Darin Zion: This week, I can play however the hell I choose. I choose intelligence and ruthlessness. The truth path the SparrowDynamics, my dearest Chives! “To know your enemy, you must become your enemy.” As someone who struggled with alcoholism my entire life with my family. I watched how ruthless my father treated me. I could do what I used to do and bitch about it. But I’m choosing to embrace it this week. I’m going to harness all my suffering and torture Mr. Sektor. What he did last week was the biggest sin in professional wrestling. He put in zero fucking effort. I don’t care if the bastard is nursing injuries or has clout. FUCK THAT SHIT! As Lee Best said for years; the Machine goes on without the worthless cogs. You should replace them every chance you get.
Reaching underneath the desk, I pull up my final departing gift for The Gold Standard. A shiny, gold plated grave emerges from out. You can see the inscription clear as day. “Here lies John Sektor. Pathetic Father. Worthless Junkie. The Best Family’s Annoying Chihuahua.”
Darin Zion: This week, I plan on exposing Sektor as the worthless, lazy, jackass he is. Every time this bastard retires; he wants people to sing him praises. Too fucking bad! I have too much respect for our rivalry to go easy on the poor, downtrodden bastard. Last time we fought, he said I was his toughest opponent. But only if I pulled my head out of my ass. Well, I pulled my head out of my ass and I saw his blood pouring out. I see his weakness and like any submission expert; I’m gonna exploit him. I’m gonna come down on him like I’ve never done. I’m treating this like a Pay-Per-View title match and I’m going to reign hell down on him. And once I’m done. I’m gonna deliver his eulogy to the NYZ crowd personally and leave the Bests down one man. Fuck playing nice and rubbing elbows with them. It’s time I grow a spine and show some damn moxie.
Snapping my fingers, I motion Chives to pick up my camera to film a short promo for my “friend” and “idol.” I begin to adjust my blue and green paisley ascot and brush off my expensive gray suit. Reaching down, I slick back my hair with Bumble and Bubble hair gel. I sneer my nose in the air.
Darin Zion: Now, let’s send that wank peasant a message.
Both Chives and I exit to put the cherry on top of my Sektor Retirement Party.
“Mr. John Sektor, it’s a privilege I’m your final singles match on Refueled. I damn sure know you chose me to carry your old, decrepit ass in front of the NYZ crowd. We’ve traveled a long, winding road over the past 8 years when we stepped into that ring. You’ve taken me to hell and back throughout two eras on HOW television. When you announced your retirement, I broke character to rub elbows with you. That’s how much respect you’ve shown me over my career when the cameras turn off. I applaud you for your hard work for HOW. You’ve played a pivotal role in molding the machine. Without you, the 4Z network wouldn’t exist today. I could spend all day kissing your ass and showering you with praise. But I’d be fucking lying through my teeth.
It’s an image thing, Seks; I’m sure you understand.
A few weeks ago, like a fucking mark, I did my last action to earn the respect of the fans and Bests alike. It was my last time breaking my back like a spineless sycophant for the masses to abuse. Since then, your ex-StarrSek partner broke down that sniffling like shit head and molded him into a work of art. He set up this great 4Z network and I don’t plan on letting him down. Simon knew to show me respect.
On the other hand, YOU did not show me that same respect. Every time we stepped into that fucking ring; you vowed to me you’d show me your best after your second era failures against me. I spent time touting you as the worst opponent I had to face after your reigns of terror this era. You fucking built a brand where people EXPECT you to kick my ass. But what did you do last week?
You fucking didn’t show up.
I’m fucking irate, man. Those words barely scratch the surface. You’re one of HOW’s best wrestlers ever and you fucking spend time wanking off like my pathetic ass did against you. You offered no apologies to the Bests or your fans for your worthless performance. You kept quiet, praying to GOD no one could expose your plans to shock the world and win War Games. You think you can coast off your laurels and go untouched.
GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY RING. No seriously, get the fuck out of it.
I’ve spent the latter part of my three years looking up at the lights. Like a good soldier does; I keep showing up weekly. No lies, there’s many times I’ve wanted to pack my bags and leave HOW. Mainly because everyone disrespects me on the daily when I’m one of the most reliable performers on this damn roster. I give news stories, segments, I produce, I do it all. I get zero thanks and zero praise.
But you, well. You lose your LSD Championship and HOW Tag Team Titles, and you’ve packed your bags and went home on the road to our biggest event all year. You probably expect me to kiss your ass and sing your praises like all the others in the back when we fight. You’re hoping I don’t pop my mouth off like a disrespectful cunt rag.
Too bad! That’s not happening. I’m sounding off and I don’t care how much it ruins your legacy. This is a fucking pattern. You phone it home when you fucking set up the big retirement angles. You failed to invest in your own damn brand when it counts. You phone it in like Drew Brees or Ben Rothleisburger when you should perform like Tom Brady. You’ve got more class than ANY of those shitty athletes. Yet you walk out like some jaded teenager from Wendy’s who expects a fuckin’ hand out.
I’m not gonna have that on the War Path to World War Z. I won’t let you disappoint our fans in MSZ like you did last week. I certainly don’t want to bury your ass in 3 seconds for the world to see. I want the old Sektor who gives me hell. You should act like the grizzled old veteran ready to shove your huge ass boots up my ass for disrespecting you like this. Hell, I hope you reign your vengeance and fury down. Because that’s a better show than what you fuckin’ gave last week.
Mark my words, John. You pull the shit you did last week. You show up intoxicated or putting little effort into our match. I’ll fuckin’ bury you 6 feet under for the world to see. I’ll break your arm off, I’ll cave your skull in with a steel chair. I’ll do whatever it takes to leave a Team Best member in a pool of blood. With your performance last week; you don’t deserve your war games spot. Brian Hollywood deserves it more. That asshole shows up every week and performs, even if he looks up at the lights all the time. Even though that bastard’s been fucking coasting the worst out of all of us, he deserves a shot more than you do.
I won’t give you the viking burial. We won’t sing praises. I’ll deliver a eulogy so epic; everyone in that War Games match will FEAR my name. If you’re the fucking Gold Standard. Act like it. I don’t care if something is distracting you. I don’t care if you’re good with what you did. Show ME the respect in our years-long rivalry this week. Put your effort in. Because if you don’t; the Gold Standards career is over. And the era of NFZ will take off.
And I promise you; I’ll make HOW more prosperous than you EVER did.
I hope my words crawled up your ass and lit a huge fire. I pray I pissed you off and we tear it down in MSZ. We gotta give these fans hell on the last show to War Games, bud. Give them every ounce of money my NFZ bros invested into making this show something special. If anyone can hype up the World War Z games with Darin Zion. It’s fucking you.
This week, you have the choice of what eulogy you write for your career send-off. Do you do it right and make it epic? Or will I end you and embarrass you in front of the Goddamn world. Choice is yours bud.
Either way you slice it; I plan on winning. It’s a bold statement, Cotton, and I promise it’ll pay off. I promise I’ll make the 4Z Network reliable when I get that ultimate win over your ass. I’ll make sure not to choke and carry on the legacy you built when I take you down. But if you try to fuckin’ stiff me and do shit. Well…I’ll make sure your real headstone says worse things than I inscribed on my little ‘gift’. See you around this week, bud.”