Miserable

 

How Miserable.

 

Let me reiterate to the masses that I did not enjoy not competing at March to Glory.  I missed the retirement match of Mike Best, the crowning of a new TV Champion, the crowning of a new LSD champion, and some fake tag champions.

Honestly, I don’t care about any of that.

I care about not getting the pay day.

Did I mention I was a little light on funds these days?

Yes?

Well, I am just learning from everyone else that repeating the same nonsense over and over is rewarded in HOW.

I am not celebrating sitting at a bar and getting shit faced watching a batch of turds wrestle poorly instead of me gracing the ring with true talent.

Almost said Perfection, heh.

I showed Darin Zion that the rust is starting to disappear off my skills.  He may have received a PPV match, but he went into that match extremely weak, so you are welcome, Jatt.  It is not the first time I have had to help you, but rest assure I hope it is the last.  Run around with Conor Fuse you lose any respect I once had for you.  Oh, who are we kidding I never respected you, but you made me laugh occasionally.

I drank myself silly on the 27^th as I tried with all my might to not turn off the Mike Best power hour and go to bed.  I am soooo happy that our new CEO is a megalomaniac asshole and has already created a Board that he can skeet on after he is done talking about how great he was.  All of them just nodding back at him scared to stand up to his jilted views.

Puke.

I am not upset at anyone for not being booked for the PPV.

I only have myself to blame for my lack of card movement since I came back but when you are dealt a shitty hand you try your best to play out of it still breathing.

I am breathing heavy but at least I haven’t gotten on my knees to beg for a bone from the almighty Best family.  Trust me I have gone down that road with Lee and I won’t ever go down that again.  I am speaking truth to power now, not trying to keep the power in place.  This isn’t from a friendly place or me trying to help the little guy but from ME sick and tired of the phony SOBs that continually get away with things because of the status quo.

I don’t care about you being comfortable.

This isn’t a safe space.

I am not talking about your feelings this isn’t a woke culture battle this is about wrestlers thinking that their seniority will always trump skill.  If it did…it stops now because I am not here for this.  I am back to snap necks, make money, and get that singles title that has continued to avoid me.

I mean if Genosyde can win a title in a match he didn’t deserve I don’t see why anyone else cannot do the same thing.

Least he is new.

So… yea, March to Glory can suck a McKenna Blue eGG.

I am miserable and thus you all will be too.

 

—

 

 

March 26^th

 

 

“Steve Harrison, I am happy you have joined us today on Sean Thompsons Wrestling Hour Podcast.”

My head snapped up, I wiped some spittle from the left corner of my mouth and stared dead eyed in front of me.  Sitting in front of me was a guy I have never seen before but he looked to enjoy eating burgers for an appetizer and as a meal.  He was fat is what I am getting at.  He worse a PRIME trucker hat probably from the Garbage Bag Johnny collection and a Joe Bergman shirt because or course, this guy was a try hard mark.  His beard was as neckish as Teddy Palmer getting with LT on a Friday night after a round of hide the STD.  I was disgusted, why am I always punished with this gobbledygook?

“Uh…” I stammered out of my mouth.  His first words to me had seemingly woken me up from being a zombie because I got to this ugly studio with wrestling posters all around it somehow.  I looked around and saw posters of guys long forgotten like HOW HOF Graystone and Scott Stevens (what happened to that guy?).

He smiled back at me, “I love wrestling history as you can see,” he had obviously caught me trying to catch my bearings by looking at wrestling posters.

I nodded back slowly, “who can forget about,” I looked and pointed at the poster, “Justin Sane!” I never said I wasn’t the king of snark.  “That guy was so creative, just cannot remember which one he was.”

He turned and looked at the poster, “think that is an old FWF poster.”

I sighed, of course it fucking was.  I leaned back in my chair and felt something in my pocket.  I reached down and pulled out a flask.  I lifted it above my head like it was a winning lottery ticket, “score!”  I screwed the top of it and took a small sip and spit it out.  “WATER?!?!”

Sean began to laugh, “I knew it was just a gimmick.”

I tossed the flask and groaned when I registered his comment, “yea sure, so how the hell did I get to your nonconsensual wrestling cave?”

“That guy Jack Marley dropped you off.  We talked to him a few days ago when we ran into you guys leaving the MVW show for Joe Bergman’s comeback match, and he agreed for you to come on.”

I thought that was a dream.

Me going to an MVW show is more like a nightmare.

I do remember rooting very hard for Ultratron-61 to malfunction in the ring though so maybe that was real?

I took a deep breath, “cannot trust anyone in this business, right Jon.”

“Sean.”

“Uh huh, do you think I give a shit what your name is?”

Sean’s smile faded and pretending to read notes on his desk, “well…yea um…since you are here how do you feel about people thinking you haven’t been as consistent or motivated since coming back from your injury?”

I gritted my teeth because this has become a running meme around me these days and it is getting more ridiculous then LOLMIKEWINS.  “Look, if being unmotivated means not being pinned once since I got back then so be it.  I am sick of having to justify my record or seemingly disinterest to a bunch of neckbeard fans and suck up wrestlers in the back.”

“Oh…so…”

I put my hand, “no, let me stop you mark because I want to know what you meant earlier when you said you knew it was a gimmick.”

Sean paused and took a big gulp obviously nervous on how this interview was going.  “I mean…you know, I was just joking around.”

I shook my head slowly, “I have zero idea what people like you mean or what you consider funny.  Do you laugh when Conor Fuse yells ‘STYLE TRANSFER,’ like a stupid child?”

“Maybe?”

I SIGHED!

Surprised?

“Ugh, do you Rally with Zion?”

I put my hand up to him again so he wouldn’t respond.

“Do you think Arthur Pleasant is intelligent and not a whiny baby?”

“Do you think JJR wouldn’t eat your eyeballs?”

“Do you think Stevens Jr doesn’t have a better life with that real Man Steve Solex?”

“Do you think Brian Hollywood has money?  The dude can barely tie his shoes and any money he has would have been spent on calling 1-900 numbers since the only way someone would talk to him is if he paid them.”

I stopped and nodded at Sean, “go ahead.”

He just stared at me and then nodded, “I am not sure what you want me to say, usually we just talk about how much we love wrestling.”

I laughed, “what do you know about wrestling?  GIMMICKS?!?! My flask is a goddamn gimmick to you, right asshole?”

He shook his head so fast I thought it was going to fly off, “no, of course not, I know you aren’t a drunk.”

Oh I am.

And then some.

“No, I am a drunk, Sean.  I love to drink, I want to drink, and I might need to drink to get through days sometimes.  Maybe this isn’t light enough programming for you because I am sure you want to just hear stories about how Cancer Jiles got so high once he peed on Jace and yelled about putting fires out.”

Sean laughed but then looked at my face and noticed I was serious, “Of course…not…um, do you think you have a drinking problem?”

I leaned forward.  ‘YOU HEARD IT HEAR FIRST!”

“I don’t know, Steve, this isn’t going the way I wished it to go.”

I smirked, “of course it isn’t.  I am a mess, and I don’t care if your listeners know or not.  I can tell you that I don’t need help unless it is point me to the closet bar.  Giving up is for losers and if there is one thing I don’t do is give up.  I didn’t give up when I lost to Jatt or Sektor and I didn’t give up when I found out the truth about my past.  Look at me!  I am back from knee surgery and to hell with people who want the real Steve Harrison.  Who the hell is that guy anyway, Sean?”

“Most people would say a guy who wins a lot.”

I laughed, “yea…a guy who wins.  Now I am just a guy who lost his spot because he was injured, do you know how that feels to watch everyone pass you and forget about your accomplishments?”

He paused and wiped his hands on his sweatpants becoming more and more nervous as the interview goes on, “I can understand how you feel but the scuttlebutt is that you were seen with Solex and Clay at the MVW event are you guys making up?”

“Do you see Clay Byrd’s money hanging out of my pocket?”

“I wouldn’t know what that looks like.”

“Probably crumpled with a cowboy hat drawn on it and instead of a rubber band a lasso tying the money together,” I said sarcastically.

He leaned back in his chair a little laugh coming from his ugly mouth.  “That would definitely be a sight to see.  The Clay Byrd Cash would sell at wrestle-cons.  Do you think you guys could ever see to eye again or is just about the money right now?  We haven’t even got to March to Glory which is happening tomorrow night.”

I rolled my eyes, “yea, I really want to talk about an event I am not scheduled for.   When it comes to forgiveness, I am chalk full of it especially if I get something from it.  I have proven to let things slide if it benefits me in the long run.  I have played neck breaker and I have played peace maker and neither have gotten me to where I want to be.”

He nodded back to me again and looked down at a piece of paper that sat in front of him, “is Conor Fuse the goal?”

“THAT VIDEO GAME DORK!?!” I said with a smile.  “I have goals and title or not that bitch owes me money and if I have to drain him of his blood to get it then so be it.”

Sean covers up his obvious Conor Fuse wrist band and I rolled my eyes with a chuckle.  “Well…Conor Fuse does a have a lot of fans.”

“Incels.”

“Excuse me?”

“He has fans that spend all day hating on women because they cannot get any ass and playing video games pretending to be the stupid character in the game.  They roleplay through a scrawny shithead to make them feel successful.” I paused and then finished, “nice wrist band.”

Sean Thompson the great leader of neckbearded virgins stood up angrily, “HEY!  I don’t think we are all like that, Steve and I am not sure this was a good idea.”

I crossed my arms and smiled back at him.  If you know Steve Harrison, you know I like to push buttons because to hell with people being happy.  “I take cash, I don’t trust Bitcoin, bro.”

He put his hand over the mic, “Money?”

I grunted and stood up, “ARE YOU SAYING I AM NOT BEING PAID FOR THIS DRIVEL?”

My yell forced him to take a step back and his hand went off his mic, “sorry folks some technical difficulties,” he said and flipped a switch to turn sound off.  He looked back at me and put his hands, “don’t blame me, Steve.  I told Jack there wasn’t any money involved because it is free advertisement for March to Glory.”

I bent down and picked up the chair and threw it across the tiny area and watch it smack against the wall and make a large noise as it walls to the floor.  Sean stared at it with fear in his eyes like a good wrestling fan with zero athletic ability.  “Man, fuck March to Glory and Jack better have some goddamn good edibles to make up for ruining my day at whatever time it is.”  I looked down at a watch that wasn’t there because of course, this is my life we are talking about here.  “Ugh.”

The podcast was over at this point as Sean had still not turned the sound back on.  He walked over and picked the chair up and attempted to sit it back up.  It fell back down a leg hanging off it.  “Damn…if you sign this, we can probably make some money.”

My ears perked, “oh,” I grabbed a sharpie off his desk and walked over and signed it, “now you are speaking my language.  You have Jacks info so if I don’t hear from you about how much it sold for, I will know that you wish for more things to be broken.”

He nodded as he remembered that we are not buddies, I turned and began to walk out and as I did so, “FUCK MARCH TO GLORY!”

Yea, fuck you bastards.

I hit the Highway for Chicago and knew that when I was back in the ring all will fall before me.

 

—

 

 

Brian Hollywood everyone!

Crickets.

If you were based off your namesake, we would be having a in Memoriam for you at the Oscars because I had no idea you were still around.  You have so little effect on everyone and HOW these days that I figured you were A) dead, B) in PRIME, or C) working as the new janitor.  It doesn’t bode well that your former partner has eclipsed you so much that we don’t even remember you.

Yea…but he won the HOTV title.

For real?

No, I am serious how the hell did that happen?

Oh, you beat Hardcore Home Depot, had a little stretch there of some quality champions getting zero successful defenses.

But look Brian I will always have a place for you in my hollow heart for being my first match and win in HOW.

Thanks.

Do not think that puts us on a level playing field or that you are even close to around my zone of talent.  I beat you after ten years in a coma in a new federation that had no idea who I was.  I was Miraculous though and through it all I will make sure I am again.  These days I will take any victory and get drunk celebrating afterwards because like you I am low on the totem pole.

It sure feels like a punishment to have to face the Hollywood Boyz in back-to-back matches.  The amount of cringe I have endured in two matches would make a stand-up comedian bombing on stage feel bad for me.  It is ok though, Brian.  I have no qualms doing what must be done to move on in my wrestling career.  If I must slum it for a bit to get back to where I belong, I will not only endure it I will succeed in doing so.

As mentioned, I am not a quitter but by the looks of things quitters get title matches in HOW.

SHRUG

This isn’t never personal, Brian. I hope you realize that making it so like Zion tried to do is not going to help you.  I will bludgeon you because I enjoy doing so not because I think you are a low-down dirty scoundrel because come on…that would mean you found a personality.

You are never scared of anyone.

You are always game for a big match.

It doesn’t mean anything.

It means less than nothing.

It doesn’t matter what you say because you have no hope of backing it up inside the ring.  Your words are emptier then JJR’s soul.  I am not sure you even care about competing these days from the looks of it and trust me I can understand how that can happen.  I can understand how you look around see everyone you cannot beat and then have trouble finding one person that you believe you have an advantage over.

Is Lester Moregrimes still around?

No?

Yikes…sorry Hollywood.

I will climb back up and claim what is mine.  You have just been standing still in one place waving at people who just ignore you because why say hi to the help?  The poor’s of wrestling can go clean Cecilworth’s car.  I am sure the Board is hiring people they can blame failures on.

I don’t think you have it in you to climb up, Brian.  I just don’t see how you are going to stand up and face me and believe that you will get your win back from me.  I am not in the charity business, and I will without a shadow of the doubt toss you on your head and pick you up and drop you back on your head.  You mean very little or me and I don’t care about your family or your health.

Why should I?

This business isn’t about friendly contests and I hope to never see what I saw from Scottywood and Carey ever again.  I want to see blood and I want it to be yours all over that mat, buddy.

I was hated so much for my first year or so in HOW that when I tried to figure out who I was and change nobody accepted me.  Nobody would believe that Steve Harrison was showing respect to his opponents and show restraint in being cruel towards my opponents.  Now I just don’t see a point in attempting to change, going forward I am whoever I am.

The good, the bad, and the beautiful bald.  You will get what you deserve, and I will make you as miserable as I have been the past seven months.

It is going to continue with you, Brian and I will not apologize with what I am going to do to you on Sunday in that pitiful city of Chicago.

This is business and the business is all about Steve Harrison gaining back what he has lost.

You began the journey once and now you are just in the way of it continuing.  You should feel honored but after Sunday, you should pray you can feel anything at all.

Crumble in front of me.

Miserable you shall be.

Victory Whiskey for the Miraculous One, the Suplex Saints, the Grim Reaper of the status quo:

Steve Harrison!