January 15th

A static filled view is how we open this footage. After a few moments the static gives way into a darkened room where nothing can really be seen. The sound of a voice cuts through the darkness and speaks to anyone out there that could be listening.

“January 15th.”

The sound of footsteps can be heard off in the distance. They get louder step by step the closer the person gets. Suddenly, a light is flipped on and illuminates the room. The room itself is nothing special to speak of really. It’s a normal hotel room somewhere in California. The large glass sliding door that leads to the balcony lets you know just when this is taking place. The only light that pours into the room from the outside is soft moonlight. The city outside is lit up with lights from various places but if you had to guess it’s maybe something between three or four am pacific time.

The PWA 01 event in Anaheim had ended hours ago and everyone had left the arena after an incredible show. Some people won, some people lost, but everyone had their own unique moments on this groundbreaking show. Another few moments pass again before the voice speaks again.

“There are a lot of things in life that I don’t like. This day just might crack the top five.”

Slowly, the source of the voice steps into view of the camera. HOW Hall of Famer Jace Parker Davidson stands front and center. He’s dressed in a messy three-piece suit. He’s showered and unwound after the PWA 01 event earlier tonight, but you can see from his face that he hasn’t been to sleep. Maybe not for a few days or weeks even. Jace has the LSD Championship belt strapped around his waist. The ICON Championship belt proudly displayed over his right shoulder. The thing that is missing is the HOTv World Tag Team Championship belt that is no longer in his possession.

“You all saw what happened out there tonight in the ring. I’m sure a good bunch of you are having quite the time enjoying the fact that I didn’t get my hand raised in victory. I’m sure somewhere in some side discords, voice chats, and in DMs on social media there are those of you conversing about how Jace Parker Davidson got what he deserved. That once again Jace Parker Davidson shot himself in the foot over something that should have been a slam dunk. Typical JPD, right?”

Jace closes his eyes for a moment as recent events play inside of his head. The thoughts that have been keeping him awake and eating away at him drone on constantly. He opens his eyes and focuses back on the camera.

“It’s like a fly just buzzing around my head and no matter how many times I ignore it. No matter how many times I swat it down. It just keeps buzzing in my ears. I hear all the talk; I know what a lot of you think of me but are too afraid to say to my face. In the eyes of quite a few of you, I am a blight on HOW and the PWA as a whole. Sure, I work hard, I’m good inside of the ring, and I have my uses. However, you never know what Jace is going to say, and you never know what Jace is going to do. As good as he is, he is a risk a lot of us aren’t willing to take. He’s toxic inside of the locker room. He’s a nightmare to PR of HOW and PWA as a whole. To his face I’ll applaud him for his efforts but publicly I have to distance myself from being associated with him in any way, shape, or form.”

Jace rolls his neck a little bit. Clearly, still sore from having wrestled earlier tonight against The Alabama Gang. He adjusts the ICON Championship belt on his shoulder as he straightens his head.

“Maybe I’m just stuck in the past. Maybe I’m just old and set in my ways. Back in ‘my time’ we said and did the things we wanted, and we didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought about it. Yet constantly I’m reminded that it’s 2023 and those things aren’t ‘politically correct’ anymore. George Carlin used to say there were 7 dirty words that you couldn’t say on television. Nowadays there’s a whole fucking handbook on things you can’t do or say because other people’s feelings and sensitivities are the #1 priority of this modern world.”

Jace clenches his jaw and shifts his posture a little bit. You can tell by the expression on his face that the words themselves left an awful taste in his mouth.

“As professional wrestlers we go out there week after week and put our bodies on the line for pieces of leather and gold. Fame and fortune, along with the entertainment of the people that call themselves fans of our sport. On any given night one of us could be hit with a steel chair right in the head. We could be driven through a table. Thrown through a glass window. Leap from the tallest structures we can find. Be hit and sent into barbed wire and it’s to be expected, even accepted and applauded. Fireballs are sent flying around, barbed wire hockey sticks and flaming dumpsters are just another day at the office. Being thrown off of a moving ship isn’t a criminal act. It’s a fond memory to most people.”

Jace pauses and grinds his teeth a little bit. He lowers his hard and an angry chuckle manages to escape from inside of him before he looks at the camera.

“All of that is fine and well but if Jace Parker Davidson makes a comment about two hillbillies playing hide the sausage, then it’s like the sky is falling! Each and every single one of us are so-called professional wrestlers. Each and every single one of us intentionally put ourselves through hell so that we can step through a pair of ropes and get paid to be punched in the face. Each of us chose to be in a combat sport that no sane person would do but as much as we’re supposed to be some of the toughest men and women out there. I find that professional wrestlers are some of the whiniest, softest, safe spaces needing individuals on this planet.”

Jace brings his hands together and begins to crack his knuckles. His legs move back and forth but his body doesn’t really go anywhere. The words boiling at the pit of his stomach and now erupting in front of the camera.

“The world is fucked. It’s been fucked for a long time, and it just keeps getting worse. Homelessness is rising. Wars are breaking out all over the place. People are getting shot in the streets on a daily basis. Even schools have gotten to the point where it’s not even safe for your children to go and get an education because someone out there has an assault rifle and in their feelings about something. Conor Fuse turned STRONK’s head into ground beef using a 50 lb. weight. Chris Kostoff was shot and burned alive on worldwide television. The guy that signs our paychecks. He makes a habit out of shoving a pen into people’s eyes in the most gruesome ways possible. But a comment made by me is where we draw the line. The rest of that stuff is fine but let’s make sure JPD doesn’t say something might come off homophobic or misogynistic.”

Jace begins to twitch with anger as his hand grips the leather strap of the ICON Championship belt tightly.

“Utter and complete nonsense from thin-skinned, weak-minded individuals. Each and every single one of us was picked on growing up in school. 97% of us come from broken homes or have some sort of fucked up bringing but yet we all survived. We all pushed forward and made something of ourselves to the point that we’re on television and making the kind of money that most people can only dream about. So, when did a vast majority of you decide that you’re going to forget all that and worry about the kind of shit some of your own friends and peers used to say to you back in High School? When did some bully from your homeroom making you cry 10-20 years ago become more important than anything else in this world?”

Jace’s face contorts into one of pure sickness. One to the point where it looks like he could vomit at any moment.

“We didn’t wage a war on drugs. We didn’t wage a war against corrupt politicians and governments. We didn’t wage a war against guns. No, we waged a war against words that might hurt someone that we don’t even know. I could go on and on but the point of the matter is that I am who I am. I’m not a family friendly kind of person. You want wholesome and politically correct then watch the fucking Disney channel. I’m here to punch people in the throat. I’m here to plant my boot in the back of people’s heads. I’m here to win matches, Championship belts, and dominate. That is my top priority, yet, the rest of you make your top priority what someone may or may not say in a passing comment. This is why I hate people and being that today is January 15th, it just makes it that much worse.”

Jace paces around a bit in the hotel room to try and blow off some steam. The whole point of this has gone off the rails a little bit but that’s normal for The King of Everything. A man of many words and opinions that often shoots from the hip and worries about the damage later.

“I should be on my way to Chicago right now. Chaos 19 was supposed to be tomorrow night and I was looking forward to it. I didn’t care that the PWA 01 event was Saturday night because I was more than ready for Chaos on Sunday night. But once again you weak individuals couldn’t handle having to wrestle one night, travel, and wrestle again the very next night. So, Chaos got pushed back to the 22nd. That means my plans were ruined. That means I can’t keep myself distracted from the fact that today is the 15th.”

Jace lifts his free hand into the air and runs it through his hair. His hand moves down over his face as his eyesight is strained. His eyes are dry, tired, and sore from the sleep deprivation, but he stops pacing and turns back to the camera.

“That is a problem for me, so, I’m going to make it a problem for all of you. Why do I keep harping on about January 15th? That’s because one year ago today I died. April 2021, I made my return to HOW and professional wrestling as a whole. I won the HOTv Championship belt. I won Wrestler of the Year and yet I had to hear people tell me time and time again that I was washed up. That I was a has-been. That I wasn’t the same JPD that I used to be back in the day. January 15th is the day I suffered a heart attack and died on my way to the hospital.”

“This isn’t kayfabe, this isn’t a gimmick, nor is it a pity party. I literally fucking died. After my big return and fighting my way back to form… the last thing I could have heard in this life was Jace wasn’t good anymore, Jace did literal murder on television even though this is HOW and anyone who has been here longer than a cup of coffee has seen much, much worse. And the best of all? Onlyfans jokes.”

“I busted my fucking ass to come back and do the thing that each and every single one of you take for fucking granted on a daily basis. And what did I get in return? Oh, watch out, Jace is going to slide in your DM’s and ask you for nudes. Oh, no woman wants to join HOW because of Jace. I dealt with fucking crazy bitches like Eli Dresden dragging my name through the mud after I tried to put her over by letting her shove a microphone down my throat. But that’s all I am to all of you.”

Jace points his index finger towards the camera and locks onto it with an icy cold stare.

“I was scheduled to team with Conor Fuse in the Maurako Cup. We were the odds-on favorites to win the entire thing but then I just disappeared. Sure, it was for ‘medical reasons’ and it was played off as an ankle injury. The truth of the matter is that I had died and had to be brought back. The truth is that I spent a total of 42 days in the hospital fighting for my very fucking life. The doctors all said that I wouldn’t make it. They said in the slim chance I did that I wouldn’t be able to walk, I wouldn’t be able to talk, and there was a good chance I’d have severe brain damage. Everything that everyone saw Demar Hamlin go through is what I went through.”

“Watching that whole scene play out on television was sobering really, almost triggering. But the more I sat back and watched, the more pissed off I got. For every single milk carton with my face plastered on it that causes you all to giggle. I was there looking the grim reaper right in the fucking eye. I went toe to toe with what is inevitable, final, and I didn’t fucking back down. I played a game of chicken with the Grim Reaper, and I made that motherfucker flinch first.”

“So, trust and believe when I tell you… I truly do not give a FUCK about your feelings. For every person that gets upset about a constructive criticism I make. For every person that wants to call me a pervert, misogynist, or a stalker. For every person that gets a tummy ache over something that I tweeted. You can all line up and eat my whole ass. I didn’t fight back for five fucking years to get back to professional wrestling to walk on eggshells. I didn’t duel with death and win to worry about your soft ass demeanor. I’m going to continue to mow through the competition and I’m going to keep running my fucking mouth while doing it. And I’m going to stay doing it until either you all bow down before me or my contract is terminated for good.”

“Either way, I’m going to still flip every single one of you off and continue to shit on you on my way to the top or my way out the fucking door. THAT is why I did what I did earlier tonight…”

Jace stops and looks over at his bare shoulder where his half of the HOTv World Tag Team Championship belts used to sit.

“What some of you might see as failure, I see as addition by subtraction. I might have lost ten pounds of gold but that’s a more than fair exchange for getting a 256 lb piece of dead weight off of my back. I had a moment out in the ring earlier tonight. It was an epiphany and a small glimpse into the not-so-distant future. I saw what would become of me and my reign as HOTv World Tag Team Champions with Scott Stevens as my partner. I could have pushed forward; I could have added that burden onto my shoulders for the long haul. But when I looked over and saw that Stevens was more worried about Sunny O’Callahan than he was the match itself, I knew what I had to do.”

“I could have not kicked Stevens off the apron. I could have stepped into the ring and broken up the count when he was being pinned. But I decided to worry about me and me alone. As fun as it was being a Triple Champion, my own inner peace and desires matter that much more. If I’m going to have to do 97% of the work just to retain a tag team title, then I should at least get to choose my own partner. I didn’t choose Scott Stevens; Scott Stevens was chosen for me. So, I did what I had to do to make the message clear that I’m no longer giving free rides to the top of this business.”

“I did what I did to show the world, and to show you, Stevens, that I’m not going to have that plow locked around my neck and do hard labor when you’re just sitting back sipping lemonade and reaping all of the glory like you actually did something. You had it so easy, Stevens, and still you found a way to fuck it up.”

Jace lowers his free hand and places it on the LSD Championship belt around his waist.

“I did the heavy lifting and won us those titles. All you had to do was hold that belt and say thank you. Show a little appreciation that someone out there decided to tolerate you long enough to the point where you could call yourself a Champion once again. But what did you do? You decided to get greedy and decide to try and take the LSD Championship belt away from me. Even though you tried and failed even before we won the HOTv World Tag Team Championship belts. You let MY hard work go to YOUR head and it made you believe that you could bite off more than you could chew.”

“And before you even say it, shut the fuck up. I know that the first thing out of your mouth is going to be that you don’t book the matches or that HE sees something in YOU that keeps putting you in line for my title. That’s just bullshit. Tyler Adrian Best co-won War Games and became ICON Champion. Lee booked us in a Champion vs. Champion match where only one of us could walk away with a title. We went to war but in the end, I bested Tyler and became the Forever ICON Champion. But see here’s the thing, Stevens. Tyler didn’t come after me a second or even a third time to try and take a title belt away with me. He had his chance, he lost, and he had enough respect for me to do something else. Now? He’s over in PRIME about to slice up their entire roster like a Christmas ham.”

“You can’t do that, Stevens. I handed you a Championship belt and you managed to make me regret that choice. I could lay out the map to success right in front of you and you still found a way to fuck it up. I stuck out my neck for YOU, Scott Stevens. Did you think I had forgotten? Did you think that I just magically forgave you? I still remember that it was YOU that tossed me off that steel structure and caused me to break my neck. Because of you and because of Tara, I lost five whole years of my career. But even then… I was willing to put that on the backburner and let you ride alongside me to the top of this company. My mistake was not realizing sooner you aren’t capable of riding beside me. You need to be literally carried to the top like a newborn infant.”

Jace shakes his head a bit and exhales a deep breath.

“That’s why I leveled you with a shot to the head with the LSD Championship belt. That is why I stomped the back of your head almost through the mat itself. And now? I’m going to head to the airport and catch a flight back to Denver. I’m going to sit at home, wait, and prepare for Sunday night in Chicago on the 22nd. You need to pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and focus on Darin Zion. He’s the first obstacle in your path to get another chance at MY title that you’ve lusted after since before ICONIC. IF you get by him then Azula, Solex, and Carey all stand in your way.”

“IF you’re smart? You’ll keep your mouth shut about me and put your nose to the grindstone. IF there is a functioning brain cell left that head of yours, you’ll put in the work and EARN yourself another shot at my title. And after all of that if you’re able to pull it off. At March 2 Glory you’ll learn a lesson you should have learned a long time ago. What you did in 2016 was able to knock me down but not keep me down permanently. Death itself couldn’t stop me.”

“And after I make you BEND THE KNEE one more time. You’ll ask yourself why you ever thought a mere lesser mortal like you, or anyone else, ever thought they could do what career ending injuries and death couldn’t.”

“See you in Chicago.”

Jace turns his back and begins to gather his stuff for the airport as the view once again goes to static.