Make You Feel My Love

“…I’ve competed in this market for nearly 25 years and you’re here turning this shit into a joke.  HEHE!  You call yourself REAL LOVE?  All you’re doing is spending time wasting your breath on child’s play.  I bet you couldn’t even tear MY training regimen apart.”

Those words from a senile, old man out of Las Vegas have continued to haunt REAL LOVE’s mind for 5 days now. Some washed up, decrepit old wrestler had the audacity to call me out.  Right in front of a Las Vegas crowd too!  That hack couldn’t even hold the 4Z Network’s jock strap let alone wrestle the future MVW World Champion.

He thinks that his “shitty accountability measure” would help warm my cold, calloused heart.   Bitch, that shit fuels me!  It makes my blood boil and motivates me more.  Chumps like that won’t hold REAL LOVE from showing himself more self-love.  It’s time to bask in my own glory.  REAL LOVE’s gotta do what’s best for REAL LOVE.  Since Darin Zion’s still getting some good ole fashion R&R in Vegas before the big match up with Adam Ellis.  It’s time for the founder of NFZs to indulge in the Vegas lifestyle.

What happens in Vegas…right?

After indulging in copious amounts of blow with some new lady friends, REAL LOVE’S making new connections…

I’d brought my new “friends” up for some intimate drinking time in the hot tub.  Two gorgeous, big busty blonds nuzzled up into The Love Guru’s 19-inch pythons.  Judging by their googly eyes, they wanted to ride on the LOVE CONVOY tonight.  They couldn’t keep their hands off me while I downed another portion of Dom Perignon.  After stumbling across my suite, we made it towards my giant king-sized bed.  Both women sashay towards the bed, seducing me by biting their upper lips.  They caressed their busty bodies.  On cue, my hips swivel for them.  REAL LOVE’S gotta give ‘em a show!

I begin tugging on my robe strings; however, a faint noise throw me off my game.

KNOCK!  KNOCK!  KNOCK!

Folding my arms across my chest, I roll my eyes at my company.  “Did either of you ladies order room service this late at night?”  I asked my guests in a sickeningly sweet tone.  Both broads shook their heads before giving me a blank stare.

“God damnit!” I mutter underneath my breath before securing my blue, silk robe tightly towards my chiseled body.  Throwing on my red velvet slippers, I shuffle towards the door. Grinding my teeth, I grimace about the ordeal.  Who in their right mind disturbs a wrestler like me at 3 AM in the GOD DAMN morning?

Throwing open the fancy oak door to my room, that pestilent fossil stood right in my presence.  My fists ball up, readying to fight this stalker.  I take in a deep breath before shouting at the man.

“WHY IN FUCK GOD’S #97RED EARTH DID YOU STALK ME HERE YOU OLD FUC—”

The geyser wastes no time before slapping one of his business cards in front of my face.  THE MIRACULOUS ACADEMY stood out in big, bold letters.  As he scowls at me, he asserts his irrelevant opinion.

“Maybe if you’d stop wasting your time with these asinine distractions; I wouldn’t have to offer you any help.  You wanna win that MVW Men’s Heavyweight Championship from Sektor’s adoptive kid.   Ditch those vile hookers and meet me here in 3 hours.  I’ll train your pretty little Chicagoan ass right off.”

Before I could refute him, the sad old bastard slams the door right in my face.  It smacks me square on the nose.  Rubbing my nose, my face turns beet red.

Now sneering, I grumble underneath my breath.  I saunter back into the bedroom where both women welcome me back to our little session.  However, as I set the business card on the nightstand, this opportunity piques my interest.  I snap my neck towards both women.  With a jagged motion, I point my finger towards the exit.

“Out!  NOW!” I command with banal tone in my voice.

Both scurry out the door like frightened rodents while I made a make-shift ice pack.   I plop right down into bed, setting my alarm.  2 Hours of Sleep is going to feel like hell.

==========

It’s the butt crack of dawn and you can see the sandbags weighing down my eyes.

It’s the butt crack of dawn.  The sandbags weighing down my eyes are clear as day.  Not even GOD himself would reawaken from the dead at 5:45 AM.  The exhaustion takes it tole on my body.  Dragging my feet across the pavement, I gaze up at this building.  It’s a dungy, broken down building on the outskirts of Vegas.

“Yup!  Probably gonna die here today.” I mumble under my breath before cracking open the squeaky door.

The sun peering over the horizon highlights in the entry way.  To my surprise, the old fart stood with a look of defiance.  He wouldn’t budge a single inch, staring a hole into my soul.  God this trip is so worth it.  I get to clobber this old fuck into the ground.  Like a macho, wrestler does…I’ve gotta make the first move.

“YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!”  I howled at him from the depths of my lungs.  I hurl the entire force of my 220-pound body into my punch.  I have to connect.  My life depends on it.

Not breaking a single sweat, this retired veteran whips me around.  He hurls me straight towards the ground with force.  This fossil jams the spur of what appears to be his size 15 cowboy boot straight into my chest.  Leaning down, the guy talks straight trash.

“Look buttercup, already read up on you.  I ain’t got time to butter up that over inflated ego of yours, Zion.  Count your damn blessins’ now, son.”

My eyes widen in shock while he continues.  “Yer lucky your sorry ass is still signed to HOW.  After you’ve blown so many chances.  Most vets envy worthless bags like you.”

Befuddled, REAL LOVE raises those perfect manscaped eyebrows to his challenger.  I push him away and leap back to my feet.  I lunge straight in his face, barking at him

“Who the FUCK do you think you are talking to REAL LOVE like that?  The 4Z Network’s won…”

This Las Vegas Native cuts me off right at the pass.  “25 different championships around the world.  He’s wrestled in multiple territories.  He’s almost won War Games.  15 years in the damn business and still trapped in the past.  BLAH!  BLAH!  BLAH!  Talk’s cheap, ya little bitch.  Whatcha done in the last 3 years, huh?”

I fold my arms against my chest.  This relic jabs his finger into my pecs.  He continues without a care in the world.  “You wanna live this fuckin’ gimmick?  I’ll make you live it.  You wanna unleash tough, unbridled, unhinged love on your opponents.  I’ll make ya a believer.  Because I can read you like a book son.  No matter how hard ya try to hide it.  You’re fuckin scared you’ll fail.  You’re afraid some bland ass Missouri Old School wimp will embarrass you on live television.  I can hear the squeak in your voice.”

Scoffing at this guy, I roll my eyes before responding.  “For LOVE’S sake, can you at least introduce yourself.  I ain’t gonna train under someone I don’t know.”

The pink-haired old fuck cracks a slight smirk.  He extends his hand out to welcome me.  “I’m Miraculous Mark Magnum.  Wrestled these parts the last 25 years non-stop.  Won multiple championships and still livin’ my damn gimmick.  I won’t let snot nosed punks like your ass ruin the business.  You wanna show your critics real love.   Let’s get to work.”

My jaw drops while he picks up my duffel bag off the floor and heads towards the ring.  I’d heard legends about this guy while training in SoCal at the Battle Arena.  He was a submission artiste before he retired after a brutal neck injury.  The pupils in my eyes widened as my smile grew ear-to-ear.  Now there’s someone who understood what REAL LOVE meant.

==========

12 Hours later

1,000 push-ups…

1,000 squats…

500 Burpees…

500 jumping jacks…

A 2-mile-long run…

Cleaning a mold covered old bathroom…

Assembling a ring with useless young rookies…

All with no running air-conditioning!

This only scratches the surface of this rigorous training session. With adrenaline pumps through my veins. It’s time to show Master Mark my God-given talents.  Finally REAL LOVE can step into the ring.

Magnum set me up with a match with his green-as-shit grandson.  The youngster showed zero ring presence as he slid into the ring with me. In a timid motion, he raises his fists looking to fight.

That’s his first mistake!

Wasting no time, I toss him against the ropes and nail a stiff looking clothesline to the kid’s throat.  Lifting him up, I toss him over my head with a Belly-To-Belly Suplex.  Hammering at young man’s neck, I turn my attention towards The Miraculous One.  He twirls his fingers around, shifting my focus back to his next of kin.

As I pull this kid back to his feet, the young blonde-haired man elbows me in the stomach.  He rushes at me to spear me, I launch him shoulder first into the turnbuckle.  Thinking fast, I get behind this rookie and cling to him for dear life.  Preparing to hit him with a German Suplex, my ears perk up.  Mark’s up on the ropes, lambasting me in front of the class.

“DROP THAT FUCKER ON HIS NECK!  SNAP IT IN HALF!”

I shift my focus towards Magnum, trying to argue some sense into him.  This is his grandson!  His own flesh and blood he begs me to destroy!  “Dude, seriously?”  I ask before his grandson nails me straight in the groin with a stiff kick.

As I’m rolling on the mat in pain, Mark puts me on blast again.  “Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing to do are the same.  NOW FUCKIN’ DO IT!!  OBLITERATE MY GRANDSON, YOU PATHETIC WASTE OF SPACE!!!”

The boy tries to lock me into a Figure Four before my feet yeet him back towards the corner.  Kipping up like my life depended on it; I fly across that ring.  I lunge at the pour sucker and dump him right on top of his neck.  I swivel around before doing it a second and third time.  After releasing him, I sink my arms straight into the kid’s neck.  The Love Handle Lock is tightly secured and the boy’s face turns blue.  I yank back with all the force in the world ready to break his neck.

TAP!  TAP!  TAP!

Mark rolls into the ring and tries slapping me back into the reality.  But I’ve got the lock secured tight.  Screaming at the top of my lungs, I watch as the locker room empties.  A slew of trainers rush at me before I let the poor sap loose, letting his limp body drop.  I scowl at everyone around while trying to walk off.  But Mark stops me in my tracks.

“Doesn’t loving yourself feel good?  Like the good-ole days of your career?”  He remarks before I sneer at him.  Closing my eyes for a moment, I flash back to when I first entered HOW as Brian Hollywood’s personal bodyguard.  I reminisce about purposefully looking to injure my opponents, not worrying at all about style and finesse.  I nod at him while wiping the sweat away from my face.  He continues his lesson.

“You displayed REAL, TOUGH, VISCIOUS LOVE there, kid.  Serving justice in that ring is the purest form of love for a cold-blooded man like yourself.  If I have you doin’ that to my own flesh and blood, imagine what you’ll do to Ellis.  That pencil-necked vanilla white-toast rookie lacks your discipline you finally displayed.  Now stop burying it deep in your soul.  UNLEASH THAT LOVE on the world.  Make them FEAR your love.”

I reach my hand out towards his.  I grasp his wrinkly, liver-spotted hand.  Mark Magnum pulls me in tight for a hug. “Do whatever it takes and stop at NOTHING to win that title.  Walk out of Tombstone, Arizona with that belt draped over your shoulder and your hand raised high.”

“I promise, Mark.  The Love Convoy’s about to hit young Ellis.  I’m gonna splatter his damn guts all over the ring in front of his high school sweetheart.  He will learn TOUGH LOVE..”  I respond before collecting my things.  He pats me on the back before I leave.  I turn towards him before leaving the facility and salute him for all his hard work.

I say on final thing on my way out.  “I look forward to this new partnership.”

==========

How fuckin’ cute!  That young prick Adam Ellis put on a terrible remake of Romeo on Juliet for all the HOW audiences.  He thinks that shit resounds with our audiences.  HOW crowds don’t care about your love story with the red-headed step child of MVW.  Your great grand slam move was to bastardize Shakespeare Love Story to insult REAL LOVE’S GIMMICK?!  It seems like the concussion I gave him made his little brain break.

Truly, Adam, REAL LOVE’S flattered you tried something new.  No one was buying your bland-ass recaps and inch deep insults.   It’s not edge and cool to call the 4Z Network on live television.  We’re TV-MA bitch.  Stop acting like the G-Rated bitch you are.  Your love life doesn’t put HOW fans in seats.  They have an insatiable blood lust.  One REAL LOVE looks on stimulating when I cave your skull in against the mat at Dead or Alive.  No one wants white, bland ass babies like you.  If they did; they’d be lining up Boston Markets nationwide, ordering chicken.

See I tried running that shit on HOW audiences for years.  Everyone loved White Knight Zion, always learning from his mistakes.  So scrappy…so loveable….kept falling on his damn face.

But it didn’t stimulate REAL LOVE’S obsession for gold.  I grew tired of sitting on the side lines.  I couldn’t sit back watching idiots like you and Jiles getting the World Championship matches I deserved.

So, I stopped acting like a submissive beta cuck like you.  For the first time, I set my fucking boundaries.  I put myself first above everyone else in this company.  And people think that’s being an asshole in today’s world.

Your pathetic 21-year-old ass has some fuckin’ growing up to do. These are the life lessons your heroes forgot to teach your whiny ass.  Joe Bergman, Ray McAvay, and John Sektor all failed to teach you the most important lesson in your training.The world isn’t filled with sunshine, rainbows, and unicorns.  No!  It’s a cold hard place where predators like me survive.

I made my statement echo loud and clear.  The old adage from T.F. Hodge goes “Tough Love may be tough to give, but it’s a necessity of life and assurance of positive growth.”  I flipped that switch and won’t look back.  Hell, the amount of self-love I’ve shown to myself makes Jace Parker Davidson envy me.

I’m proud of what I did to Joe Bergman’s ordinary ass.  I don’t have any regrets of capping you from behind.  In fact, I LOVED watching you squirm like the little bitch you are Ellis.  I did it all in the name of LOVE.  I didn’t do it to impress some bimbo broad like yourself.  I did that because it’s my JOB to attain singles gold.  After all, REAL LOVE deserves to adorn himself with some bling after all his blunders.

At Dead or Alive, you’re not wrestling a Missouri Valley mat classic match.  HOW doesn’t put up with that midwestern outlaw bullshit you guys’ spout.  It’s hard-hitting, cold reality.  We don’t sit back looking to become the very best.  We will KILL anyone in our way to attaining glory.

I’m sorry you were stupid enough to stand in my way.  I can’t fix your heart, kid.  But I can sure as fuck break it into a million pieces.

Your morals can carry you only so far.  You can only wear masks for so long until you expose your true intentions.  Go ahead and stand by your pathetic ass country song.  Mama didn’t raise no quitter.  You might be known for throwing good punches and you’re rough around the edges.  You might have a strong backbone, but in this business; you gotta make it on your own. 

You can only protect your fragile, naïve heart so long before someone like me comes in and crushes it.  As Clay Byrd says persistence is for losers.

Your one of MVW’s brightest young stars.  But you act like such a dim bulb.  You’re an oblivious romantic looking for love in all the wrong places.

 Sure, you’ve got an impressive streak.  You earned the HOW Tag Team Championships.  But now you ain’t got no protection in this match.  And that makes you the perfect sacrifice to the LOVE CONVOY.

I’m not gonna hold back on you, kid.  I’m comin’ into Tombstone to wrestle dirty.  I’m not afraid to botch and drive your skull straight into that mat.  I won’t hestitate to snap your neck.  And like yourself, I’m coming with a few cards up my sleeve too.  Hell, I’m not above going to that gunsmith and using a few weapons to put your ass six feet under.  I got NO SHAME walking into this match.  Because REAL LOVE isn’t afraid to do the right thing to yield the right results.  REAL LOVE isn’t afraid to get a little blood on his hands for justice.

You better enjoy your last few sleeps with that MVW World Championship around your waste.  Cling to it tightly like you should with Ginny.  Because if either of you fuckers stand in my way from attaining greatness; I promise…it won’t end well.  THE LOVE CONVOYS about to hit you hard with a dose of TRUE LOVE.  And like Shakespeare’s greatest love story; I promise you; your reign won’t have a happy ending.

I’m walking out of Dead or Alive with the MVW World Championship….AT ALL COSTS.  And I will become the first HOW star to steal another PWA Promotions major championship.  Because REAL LOVE wins in the end.

==========

Two Days Later…

I’m about to embark on the great journey of love HOW’s ever seen.  It’s time to leave paradise to head to Tombstone.  I’ve got an hour and 5-minute flight to Phoenix.   After that, it’s another 3-hour drive straight into the middle of nowhere.  This place is in the middle of Bumfuck Egypt with no cell service.  Before exiting down a flight of stairs to a private section of the airport, I glare down at my phone.  I think to myself.

Still Nothing….

After leaving my personal limo, I step onto the runway near my private jet.  My body starts to twitch while I frantically keep touching my screen hoping to see activity.  The pressure mounts in my shoulders and stomach.

FUCK IT!  I’m not waiting anymore for this response.

I fling open the phone app on the Zi-Phone 13 Pro Max.  My index fingers race to hammer out the digits.  After hitting the Green Call button, I put the phone up to my ear.

RIIIIIIIIIIIIING!

Come on!  REAL LOVE’s time is fuckin’ valuable.  Not much time left before I lose cell phone service in the plane.  Answer the GOD DAMN PHONE!

RIIIIIIIIIIIING!

I take in a deep breath into my lungs, letting out a stiff exhale.  My eye bulge from my skull while my foot tapping hastens.  For the love of GOD!  Any minute now…

RIIIIIIIIIIING!

One more minute left and I swear to GOD if you ignore my fuckin’ call…

CLICK!

In the background, a high pitched, squeaky female voice bellows into my ear drums.  You can barely hear anything she’s squawking at me.  Her faint muttering annoys me while I cross my arms against my chest.  Clearly, I’ve interrupted an important moment.  As she takes a breath, I cut in, interrupting her.

“You finished?  I don’t got time for a college lecture…”

More talking takes place while I look down at my watch.  A scowl forms across my face.  After hearing enough, I interject myself without a care in the world.

“No, no, I don’t need you to handle the fucking marks.  REAL LOVE’S GOT HIS SHIT IN ORDER.  But I need to talk to you about something pressing.”

An indistinct “GO ON” is picked up audibly while I continue on.

“REAL LOVE’S GOT A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY.  Someone in the PWA finally listened and gave Zion another shot at singles gold.  I’ve got the chance to make those fat, lazy, Arizona slobs understand TRUE LOVE.  HOW Dead or Alive…this Sunday.  You can say it’s a PRIME opportunity.  I’m making history competing a second World Championship match.  It’s never happened in this era.  Probably won’t happen again if Lee has a say…”

“WHAAAAAAA?!” The stilled voice echoes throughout the airport while REAL LOVE pulls the phone away and muffles it.  A slow, forming smirk appears on my bleak face.

“It’s a chance we’ve BEGGED like Keith Sweat for months.  When I texted, I PROMISED I had good news.  I’m not disturbing you intentionally for frivolous flings, babe. It’s the opportunity to EARN the respect we rightfully deserve.   Anyways, I need some help.  This little bastard rookie thinks he can disrespect REAL LOVE.  He definitely stood in my path.  Pulled some strings and got this match.”

More faded talking happens while I nod and agree.  I chuckle at the inside jokes getting made.

“You’re absolutely right!  I need a bit of insurance policy.  Seems this washed-up tag team wrestler keeps going back to the well.  He’s hiding behind his new sweetheart now.  It’s pathetic he traded in an HOW Hall of Famer for a flaming haired bimbo as his human shield.  But she got in my way this week.  I had Ellis on the ropes, ready to snap his neck.  I came in ready to injure him and secure the title I rightfully deserve back.  After all, those heathens stole it from me with their massive legal teams.  They never got REAL LOVE.”

Our conversation continues before I finally leap up into the air.  I’ve got a skip in my step as I walk up the stairs into the airplane.

“That’s fantastic you’ll do it, darling.  REAL LOVE appreciates YOU of all people having his back.  That little bitch Alvin Elvis won’t know what hit him.  Seriously, I’m forever grateful to you both for this favor.  I owe you for this.   Thank you, you have no idea how much this belt means to my career.  Now let’s show that pathetic Missouri Valley twirp what REAL LOVE looks like…”

Both of us let out evil cackles as I head up the stairs.  I hang up the phone and a dark look comes over my face. With a sadistic glimmer in my eye, the sinister sneer highlights my tone.

“Now this is personal, Ellis.  You best believe The Love Convoy is coming full steam head into Tombstone  Now I’ll make you feel MY LOVE.”