“So oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh you need to calm down, you’re being too loud. And I’m just like oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh oh, you need to just stop, like, can you just not step on my gown? You need to calm down.” – Mother Teresa or Taylor Swift, I get them confused a lot.
I’m not a bad person.
Well, not a totally bad person..heh-heh.
Before I was in the Group of Death I was in the eMpire and I still stand by that. Before you were the Group of Death you were a card carrying member of the Industry. That’s all the history I know about you but after a year, honestly, that’s all the backstory I need cause you’ve played your hand over and over again.
I’m great at what I do, one of the best.
You’re pretty good at what you do.
And I say pretty good because you haven’t really done anything that impressive. After ending your precious little LBI Dreams despite Mike’s wishes you went on a three match losing streak until you got fed a Brian Hollywood pity match. If you hadn’t been able to get over the hump that is Brian Hollywood then honestly, why are you even here in the Group of Death? I wouldn’t go talking about how that’s your turning point.
But why are you just pretty good, why aren’t you great? Why aren’t you a singles champion? Why can’t you keep a fucking tag team championship I earned? What is so fucking hard about your job?
Oh that’s right.
Lindsay Troy is a fucking mooch.
She finds better men and hopes they can carry her which, I mean I guess that’s how Dan Ryan’s shoulders got so big, he had to drag your dead weight around. Michael was oh so excited when he heard you were coming into the company. Lee said it was his big fantasy booking, to have you in the federation after years of chasing you. I don’t see it and I’ve got a fancy new mechanical eye.
What I do see is when I deign to look in her direction is a woman who stumbled into High Octane Wrestling with high expectations for victory and has yet to meet those lofty goals. In fact the only real difference I see between you and MJF is that you had Michael there to throw a match so you got an empty, cheap victory and you managed to cobble together some tag team victories and some underwhelming victories over who, MJF? “Flyer” Jack Harmen High? Oh boy, the two scrubs I beat at the same time to get my LSD Championship. Pardon me if I’m not exactly sure what’s so impressive about defeating them separately.
So now, a year later, and Dan Ryan is still in the picture but the old Terminator just isn’t enough anymore is he, Lindsay? Just not quite strong enough to pull both of you over the finish line. So what did Lindsay Troy do? She did what all mooches do when they start to see their meal ticket run out, she got herself a new Daddy. A younger one, one who can promise the Moon and the stars.
You got yourself a Michael Lee Best.
The magical Michael Lee Best fix, you know, because Lindsay Troy can’t do anything in High Octane Wrestling alone, she’s always got to have her “family” involved. You had to go get Michael involved, had to weave him into your life so you can suckle at the tit of Best Family Talent. It’s desperate. It’s obvious. It’s so Tara Davidson.
Do you know how many women have hitched their wagon to the Best family name thinking it was going to give them an edge? I’ve already mentioned Tara Davidson but there’s also Kirsta Lewis. There was that dumb bitch over in OCW that saddled up to Mike.. Worked out real well for her didn’t it?.. Heh-heh..
Mike isn’t going to be the life line you are hoping for. He’s not there to help you, you’re there until you you’re not interesting anymore. Until Mike isn’t getting anything out of you, when he’s “pumped” the last of your “talent” out of your freakish Man-Woman sized body. And then? No more Michael. No more bright future in High Octane Wrestling. No more Group of Death.
The future is grim for you.
Thankfully in a rare first I’ll be the one who fucks Mike’s bitch twice before he gets the chance.
So just lean back, baby, and maybe you’ll even enjoy it this time.
“So you’re my mother?”
Max’s voice cut through the silence of the small kitchenette that belonged to the elderly Lincka O’lee, the woman Max had believed for his entire life to be little more than a forgettable babysitter that allowed his dog to be killed. The old woman’s eyes stared down at the piece of paper Max had slammed on the table between them, a written contract between her and Wilhelm Kael ensuring that she would never speak on the matter and in return she received regular payments. Elenore had dug it up somewhere no doubts to throw Max’s already chaotic life into further insanity.
“..it was a different ti-”
The Lord of Kaelsalvania’s hand slammed down on the table with a crashing sound, his face red as his lips curled back into his hateful sneer.
“Yes or no.” He hissed through clenched teeth as his temper threatened to boil over. A few months ago he learned that his father was Wilhelm Kael and now he was learning that he didn’t even really know who his mother was?
“I am your mother, yes.” she said with a sigh, leaning back in her chair as frail looking fingers touched the temples of her forehead rubbing them in circles. “..but it’s.. Not easy to talk about. And there is more you need to know about.”
She turned and stood slowly, her back cracking and her points complaining. Shuffling across the kitchen they sat in she moved a picture of a flower pot to reveal a wall safe. Max’s eyebrow jerked up as he watched her, half curious half still infuriated at the most recent revelation about his past. Opening the safe she retrieved a small green box before pushing the picture back into place. Returning to the table she pushed the box toward Max.
“My real name is Nicole Kael though that person died the day you were born,” she said with a bitter sadness in her voice, her intelligent though tired eyes stared at the box in front of Max. “Any and all questions can be answered by what exists inside that box.”
“Nicole.. Kael? Jesus Christ, is ANYONE in my life capable of telling the truth or at least cluing me in before I stumble onto it myself?” Max snarled as his fingers ripped the lid of the box away to reveal a stack of pictures and papers, some black and white. Pulling them out and staring at them he saw the face of a young boy that seemed to be desperately familiar but he.. He just couldn’t remember who it was. “Pictures? Why do I care about pic..tures..”
Pulling a photo out Max stared at it intensely. Wilhelm Kael, younger, much younger, with slicked back black hair and a beard stood next to a young Nicole Kael between them was a small baby wrapped in a blanket. They looked.. Happy. Pulling the picture up Max stared at the baby picture for a long moment before holding it out for Nicole to see.
“This is me isn’t it?” Max said softly. Nicole nodded solemnly, a smile desperately attempting to find purchase on her face as he remembered better times. He had never seen a baby picture of himself and so he turned it to stare at it again. He was so small, so pathetic.. So helpless. His eye turned to stare at Wilhelm Kael, his face held in a stoic, emotionless glare aimed at the camera. He seemed to stare out of the picture and into Max’s soul the longer he looked. It was a disquieting sensation for the Lord Supreme Dictator.
“Wilhelm married me shortly after the war in Argentina.. I like to think that he loved me.” Nicole started as she finally sat down once again. “..but when I couldn’t get pregnant he became distant, cold. He was obsessed with having a child, an heir. After visiting a doctor we found out that the problem lay with him but that it was still possible to have a child born from his seed, artificial insemination of a few of my eggs before they were reinstated back into my wo-”
“Listen I don’t really give a flying fuck.” Max bluntly cut Nicole off as he dropped the pictures back into the box. “I hated Wilhelm Kael regardless of what his relation to me actually is to me, be him my father or my uncle. The things he has done to me, what he has put me through my entire life? Fuck him and his legacy, and for that matter fuck you too!”
He snatched the box up off the table and threw it against the wall, the photos and papers exploding across the floor. Nicole’s eyes grew wide as she threw herself toward the floor desperately attempting to gather up the discarded glimpses into her and Max’s past. Max glared down at her with disgust as she desperately gathered up the photos, tears starting to stream down the side of her face.
“Pathetic. Crawling on your hands and knees for memories that don’t even matter now. Keep your past.. You were no mother to me. You are no mother to me. Die here, alone, you old hag, it’s what you deserve.” he spat the words down at her before turning to leave.
“Wait, wait!” the elderly woman turned, eyes damp. “I’m sorry, Max! I’m sorry I never said anything!”
Max pauses for a moment, his shoulders hunched as his hands ball into tight fists. Nicole climbs to her feet, her hands collapsed together as though praying.
“Wilhelm did something to you, he did something to your head when you were young, that’s why you can’t remember! He put something in your head,” Her brow furrowed as she tried to think back to a far distant memory. Max did not move, staring away from her at the door he fully intended to move to once she finished. “Something that was supposed to keep all those old memories of your life before the accident distant and disjointed so you’d never figure it out. He told me that even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand, that you’d never accept me.. So.. so I just..”
Her voice trailed off as she dabbed away the tears that had been dripping down her face. Max remained motionless as his brain processed what it was she was telling him. After a few moments he turned, his mechanical eye blazing a fiery #97red. The snarl on his face seemed to have dropped away, replaced with a cunning, unpleasant looking smile.
“Of course. Of course. I’m.. overreacting, I apologize. It must have been very, very hard for you all these years, keeping all these.. Secrets.” he swept over to her, gracefully kneeling down to begin picking up the pictures. One caught his eye.. Him as a young boy tied to a chair, his skin bruised, his face cut, dark circles beneath his eyes and a haunting smile stretched across his lips. He smiled his own repulsive, metal toothed grin as he shuffled it away into the box with the other pictures. “Let me help you and you can tell me all about them, Mother.”
He helped her to her chair before sweeping back around to the other side of the table, sliding easily back down into the chair. Reaching into his pocket he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, idly tapping away at the pack. Secrets were his business and if Nicole Kael wanted to share them, well, who was he to argue with good providence? She seemed to compose herself as he slid a cigarette from the pack, clenching it between his lips as he winked at Nicole.
“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”
Max’s eye narrowed as he stared at the LSD Championship draped across his lap. Blinking he wondered just how long he had been sitting with the title. He looked up realizing that once again he had no memory of where he was or how he had gotten here.
..it might be time to talk to somebody about that..
No, it’s just the nerves, Max tells himself, it’s just that he’s been so busy recently, dealing with his number one fan Kim Jong-Un and he had been warned that the procedure to fix his body might have lingering side effects. It’s probably just the combination of the two, after War Games when things calm down again.. He’ll be fine.
He’ll be fine.
His eye turned back down to the LSD Championship laying over his lap. It was a beautiful title, Max hadn’t always paid to close attention to its surface. It had a classic quality about it, a more traditional design, at least in Max’s opinion, then the World and ICON Championships. He had held it since November defending it six times so far. On Saturday he’d be defending it for it’s seventh time against one of his own stable mates.
Against Lindsay Troy.
He wasn’t particularly happy about it. He actually didn’t mind Lindsay, she did her best and always turned up. At first he had thought she was a bit like MJFlair or Bobbinette Carey, just another bit of fluff, another working girl trying to make it in a Man’s world. Tepid at best, boring at worst.
But she had her sharp edges, her unique qualities that made her stand out. She was strong, tall, powerful, Michael had picked her for a reason and to that end he had to trust her judgement. He didn’t like it at the start, having felt betrayed that the eMpire would shift into this new Group of Death. He fought against it and was a bit of a shit bag toward her but in the last few months she had really put in the work, she had even managed to get a win last Refueled, something that Max hoped would light a fire under her.
It was just a shame a fire was being lit under her right as he was going to have to defend the LSD Championship against her. He had managed to defeat her once earlier in the year but that didn’t mean he was going to do it again. She was laser focused getting assistance from Michael Lee Best, the BEST wrestler currently in the Hall of Fame. A man who had Max’s number basically every time they faced each other.
This was an advantage she had not had before and it was surely not one a veteran like Lindsay Troy was going to let slip to the side.
She was in the Group of Death, that meant she was ruthless, vicious and hungry to win regardless of who the opponent was. If anyone he had faced was going to take the LSD Championship off him, it was going to be her. So when he looked down at the LSD Championship it was less about admiring it and more about trying to figure out a good way to say goodbye.
His fingers traced over the cold golden surface of the LSD Championship, it shined beautifully though scratches and minor gouges in the metal reflected over a decade of abuse, used as a weapon or shield during the course of an LSD match. His thumb brushed over a chip along one of the side panels and a small smile appeared on his lips.
“Who is that? Did Jace put you there? Or was it Scottywood? What’s your story..” Max mused as he lifted the belt to take a closer look at it. “..I can’t believe I never actually paid this close attention to you before. You’re way more fucked than the ICON Championship. Well, figuratively speaking, that ICON title gets around.”
The idea swam in his head that the eMpire might all be tunnel brothers with the ICON Championship and considered for a moment how mentally unfit all three men were. He brushed it away as he ran his hands across another panel as he felt each scar left behind.
“How many of these did I give you? How long have we been together now? Seven months? We’ve lasted longer than most Tinder relationships, that’s special, right? Except, you know, you might have to go home with somebody else on Saturday.” He said as his fingers ran across the faceplate affectionately. “..she’ll take care of you though. She’s a great mother, I heard she has college kids, so you know, she’s old and experienced too.”
He allowed himself a well deserved chortle, in his mind the title laughed with him. He returned to a somber tone as he nodded to himself.
“It has been my great honor and pleasure to carry you on my shoulder, to wear you around my waist. I’m going to fight, fight as hard as I can at Refueled to keep you but.. But you know, it’s a numbers game and Lindsay, she’s very good. I want you to be prepared and I want you to know that I’ll still love you even if you’re not mine anymore and that Aunt Lindsay will be a very, very good Champion should she beat me. Maybe I can get, you know, to hold you on weekends or something.”
Max blinked back tears in the one eye that could actually tear up. The other mechanical eye seemed to flash into a deeper shade of blue as Max’s shoulders slumped forward.
Lifting his arm Max rubbed the tears from his eye and blew his nose, a flesh blast of snot coating the sleeve to his shirt. He seemed disgusted but not enough to do anything about it as he took in a sharp breath. Having completed his goodbye he looked up, his eyes taking in his surroundings once again. Sadness was very quickly replaced with concern as he didn’t recognize anything.
“Where the fuck am I?”
Presented by The Worthiest, Godlike and Glorious Maximillian Wilhelm Kael, Lord of Kaelsalvania, the Greatest Thinker, the Prime Minister of Maxopotamia, the Lord Supreme Dictator, the North Kaelrean General, Reigning LSD Champion, High Octane Hall of Famer, First of his Name! Long May He Maim!